Companions of the White Warlock

Smoke Year VII - Companions of the White Warlock Chapter IX

Voldemort looked out onto the devastation in the quarry, stunned. He had not realized that any of his followers had known the exact location of the quarry, and so while he had known the mission of the night before had somehow failed, he had not thought to move his main base. He had thought himself and his followers protected by his brilliant warding.

Twelve streaking cruise missiles filled with high explosives and incendiaries had proved him wrong.

The floor of the old quarry was strewn with large burnt chunks of giants and trolls, and smaller pieces of most of his followers. His active Death Eaters were now reduced to fifteen.

Voldemort looked over at the three figures coming towards him. Severus and Bella had been with him inside the small cave when the attack came, and they could not have feigned the terror they had felt when it had occurred.

"No survivors?" Voldemort asked. The pair shook their heads. "Very well. Severus, do not return to your potions. If it was Wormtail who betrayed me, then he would likely have been able to betray you as well."

"Yes, Master."

"We shall retreat for a time and regroup, and train some new recruits," Voldemort said. "The dementors are still in hibernation. When they come out after the equinox, we shall be back on the attack. Let Potter and his allies flail away and believe they are winning. Our return will only feel all the more devastating."

Voldemort picked up a broken board and turned it into a portkey while Snape, Bellatrix, and Vincent Crabbe, the only human survivors at the camp, packed up the few salvageable items.

Voldemort glared at Bellatrix when she came up to him. "Do you have something to say?"

"I was wondering if we might not leave Potter a going away present, Master," she suggested.

"Tell me about it tomorrow." Then they, and Voldemort's snake, portkeyed away to where the other Death Eaters were located.

Draco Malfoy paced in his room, or rather his cell, wondering where things had gone wrong.

For a cell, it was not bad, although Draco could not acknowledge that yet. It was a fair-sized bedroom with a toilet and shower in a separate room. There were books, a comfortable bed, a desk, and two comfortable chairs. However, there were no doors, and a silent Hogwarts elf was keeping an eye on the young wizard.

Draco could not move past the threshold, and the elf would not pay any attention to him, let alone obey him.

So, Draco paced.

His life had obviously gone very wrong at some point (or perhaps more than one point), but he just could not admit to having had made any errors. Obviously, it was Pettigrew's fault that he was where he now was in the first place. Beyond that, he could not blame himself, he could not blame his father, and he certainly could not blame that monster that he had been taught to nearly worship his entire life.

Could he?

"Wearing out the carpet, Ferret?"

Draco turned on the voice and reached for the wand that was no longer there. "Fuck you, Weasel."

"Well, that's two things you don't have to ever worry about," Ron sneered.

"What are you talking about, you idiot?" Draco snapped.

"You reached for your wand. You'll never use a wand again, Malfoy. And you won't be having sex where you're going." Ron grinned nastily. "Or perhaps you will. Some of your father's friends will probably enjoy using a pretty boy like you."

Draco was speechless, although he sputtered at Ron.

"Nothing to say?" Ron asked. "You might be interested to know that all the Malfoy estates and the Malfoy Trust are being confiscated, right down to the Gringotts vaults here and abroad."

"You're lying," Draco breathed, horrified.

"Nope. If you ever do get out of prison, which won't be for at least fifty years, you'll be poorer than any Weasley ever worried about being. And just think, if you had really tried, if you had had a decent, friendly bone in that arrogant body of yours, you could have been Harry's friend, too. You could have been on the winning side. YOU chose the Darkness, Malfoy. You chose to take that Dark Mark on your arm when you weren't even of age."

"I had no choice!" Draco yelled.

"You did," Ron retorted. "You could have said 'no'."

"I could not!" Draco snapped. "Aunt Bella insisted! I couldn't have said no!"

"You could have," Ron retorted. "You either didn't want to say no, or you were too afraid to say no. So, you're evil, a coward, or both. Think about that for the next fifty or eighty years." And with that, Ron walked away.

"This isn't over, Weasley!" Draco yelled. "I'll win in the end!"

Voldemort watched his exhausted Death Eaters pack away the remaining supplies and other odds and ends they would need in their exile. To them, he looked much as he had since his return. If any had any doubts of his power or their mission, none dared to express them.

To himself, Voldemort had to admit surprise that Wormtail, of all his followers, had betrayed him. It was not that Voldemort had ever thought Pettigrew was all that loyal a follower. He was a follower from fear alone. Voldemort had believed, however, that as powerful a motivator greed (for gold, power, or anything else) might be, fear was more likely to produce results.

He could not believe that Pettigrew had suddenly found a backbone. That meant that the rat had decided that he was more afraid of Potter winning than he was of Voldemort's wrath.

And that was a bit worrying, even for Voldemort.

Tuesday, July 22, 1997

A very tired John Russell met with Harry, McGonagall, Remus, Tonks, Moody, and Hermione that evening.

"You look more tired than I am, Prof," Harry said lightly. "And you weren't even being tortured by Moody all day."

Russell looked at Moody, who simply said, "Had 'em doing sprints and hexes all day."

Russell sat down heavily. "Whereas I was dealing with the Minister all day, which was equally tiring, if for very different reasons."

"What happened?" Harry asked.

"The attack on the quarry went off well, by all the evidence. They found the remains of giants, trolls, and people. No sign of Voldemort or his snake, though, or of any of his effects. The Ministry and Order emissaries to the remaining giants have already reported that they are back leaning towards neutrality, so that's good, anyway."

"I take it there are no clues as to where Voldemort went, or how many followers he might have left," Moody put in.

"No and not really," Russell answered. "There were a lot more bodies than they had anticipated. With luck, Voldemort might be down to under two dozen Death Eaters, but as we found out, he seems to have tapped into a new source from central Europe. We're still waiting to hear about where that might be and how many that might include."

"Durmstrang," Harry muttered.

"Very possibly," Russell agreed, "although that is far from certain. More likely, while they might have graduated from Durmstrang they probably aren't affiliated with it."

"When do we transfer the prisoners?" Moody asked.

"The two werewolves to be executed go tomorrow morning, right after dawn," Russell answered. "Pettigrew is staying, but he will be going straight to South America, accompanied by a group of Ministry people who are going to continue to question him through early September. Jason Smith and young Malfoy are going with him. Pettigrew has a life sentence, Malfoy fifty, years, and Smith has ten years."

"The Ministry didn't kick up a fuss about Smith?" Remus asked.

"Not really. The giants going neutral so quickly encouraged Scrimgeour. He agreed, albeit without any enthusiasm, that executing the two werewolves while sparing Smith might encourage some of any remaining werewolves to leave and keep the others neutral."

"Did the Minister agree to lifting most of the impediments?" Hermione asked.

"More-or-less," Russell said. "The employment bans are lifted, but the registration requirements are going to be somewhat stricter, unless the werewolf can get sponsored by six people who are Ministry employees or who they define as 'people of high character."

"Do I know any?" Remus asked.

"Quite a few," Russell said with a smile. He unfolded a sheet of parchment. "If Harry, Hermione, and Minerva would care to sign, you're taken care of."

"It's only half a solution at best," Hermione said with a sniff.

"Half a solution is better than an entire problem," Remus retorted.

Saturday, July 26, 1997

Fleur was, of course, being married from her home in France. This caused a fair amount of teasing of Ron and Ginny, who had assumed that the Burrow was the center of Fleur's world just as it had been their's.

It was a small wedding party that gathered at the small estate in the Luberon mountains of Provence. From Fleur's side, there were her parents and younger sister, a younger brother whom they had not known about (he was a rather morose Fifth year from Beauxbatons), and a dozen other relatives and a dozen of Fleur's friends.

All the Weasleys, even Percy and Penny, were present, as were Harry, Hermione, Luna, and Neville, plus a few of Bill's friends from school and work. There were also two dozen security wizards, most of them French plus a few members of the Order.

The wedding was still an hour off, and Bill was being teased by four of his brothers, while Harry and Arthur tried to stay neutral. It was at that point that Percy came into the room where they were waiting.

It was clear that Percy had had a few too many samples of the local marc and was feeling no pain. He staggered up to Bill and stared at his face.

"Problem?" Bill growled.

"Not with you," Percy stated. "You used to be so handsome, so smart. Where did it get you?"

"Percy. . . ." Arthur warned.

Percy sneered at his father. "You had the talent and blood, if not the connections, to go far in the Ministry, and you preferred to stay in your odd little niche, never mind that your lack of ambition hurt your family. You all preferred to take risks for that crazy old coot instead of helping the proper authorities. . . ."

"Fudge wouldn't listen. . . ." Ron started.

"And Dumbledore never told the whole truth!" Percy yelled. "He gave out cryptic little hints or bald statements with no evidence and demanded that everyone follow him! That is no way to run a government!"

He turned to his father. "You have some contacts now with the Muggle government, don't deny it! Ask them if they allow one person to run things on their personal whims and personal information, without accounting to anyone. They'll tell you, of course not! They call that dictatorship, tyranny, autocracy! They hate it and so should we! People make mistakes, governments make mistakes. It's better to have collective government because that protects the collective rights! Dumbledore would have run us like a benevolent dictatorship and You-Know-Who would have an evil one, but they both rely on the say-so of one wizard!"

Percy turned on Harry. "And now it's you? I'll never follow you, Potter! You've done nothing but disturb order since you got on the train that first time!"

"Your head is so far up your arse you can't see anything," George said, disgusted.

"If you're so bloody powerful, Potter, why don't you heal Bill?" Percy spat. Bill's scars had stayed fresh, weeping blood and serum, until the full moon. Since then, they had only crusted over slightly.

Harry turned to Bill. "I don't know if it would work, but I can certainly try," Harry said. "I'm pretty certain I couldn't make things worse."

"What? You arrogant. . . ."

At that point, Charlie grabbed Percy in a head lock and covered Percy's mouth with his other hand. Fred grabbed Percy's legs and Ron grabbed his arms.

"Take him to Penny and then hit him with a sobering charm," Arthur said. He turned to Harry. "Harry. . . ."

"Give it a go, Harry," Bill said. He pulled his handkerchief out and tucked it around his neck. "Just in case it bleeds at all."

Harry laid his hands over the worst of the bites and concentrated. His hands glowed blue for a moment, and then Harry took his hands off.

Harry's hands had blood on them, but they were not covered by any means. Bill's wounds looked a bit fresher, but they also looked healthier.

"That does look better," Arthur admitted. He waved his own wand, and the cuts partially closed and crusted over. "Much better. I think those might actually mostly disappear now." Arthur and Bill looked as awestruck as Harry.

"I wish I had thought of it before," Harry admitted.

"None of us thought of it either," Bill said. He moved his face. "It feels a bit better. Even if it just lasts for a few hours, that's a help."

At that point, the other three brothers came back in. "You look a bit better," Charlie said bluntly. "Harry?" Bill nodded.

"Thanks," Ron said to Harry, who simply shrugged.

"It's almost time," Arthur said.

"I need to talk with Harry in private a moment," Bill said, waving Harry over. "No need to be embarrassed," Bill told him. "This is business."

Harry knew Bill had been largely filled in about the Horcruxes. Having a professional curse breaker working on your side was a great resource. "What is it?"

"At some point, we might get the chance to disembody Voldemort again," Bill pointed out. "He could do less damage, but on the other hand, he could hide more easily that way."

"True," Harry agreed. This had been discussed a number of times over the last month. "But how do we contain him?"

"I don't know if we can, but that's not the point," Bill said. "If he is ever disembodied, that means he'll want to come back. We need to check out his father's grave, and see if any more of the body is missing than the long bone he used the last time."

"I'll tell the Prof to send someone to collect all the Riddle family bones," Harry said.

"That should work," Bill agreed.

"Come on, son," Arthur said, coming back in. "It's time." He placed his hand on Harry's shoulder. "You, too. You're a true Weasley, son."

Harry smiled.

Thursday, July 31, 1997

After Harry's birthday party at the Burrow, he and his friends returned to Hogwarts, where they would be meeting so that Harry and McGonagall could hear reports. Besides most of Harry's paladins (Russell, Hagrid, Tonks, Remus, Ron, Hermione, Luna, Ginny, and Neville), Moody and Arthur were there.

"Who should go first?" McGonagall asked.

"I believe I should," Russell said. "Acting on the advice of Bill Weasley, I and some friends investigated the Riddle graves at Little Hangleton. Tom Riddle Senior's body was only missing the left femur. We removed all the Riddle family bones and destroyed them. We are certain we got all the major bones and teeth that were present."

"Major?" Hermione asked.

Russell shrugged. "If any other bones were there, we would have found them. We were missing quite a few of the ear bones, plus two hyoids from the other graves, but are those likely to have dissolved or gnawed into nothing by now. Voldemort would have taken major bones."

"But you found everything else?" Harry asked.

"Right down to the knuckle and toe bones," Russell agreed. "Voldemort may have other ways of reanimating himself if we disembody him, but he won't be able to redo the last ceremony."

Everyone nodded their understanding and satisfaction.

"We also searched the Riddle House," Russell went on. "I doubt we missed anything significant, and he didn't hide anything there or on the grounds, or the graveyard, or at the Gaunt shack." Russell could not mention the Horcruxes in front of Arthur or Hagrid, who did not know the details. Since none had been found, he could skip over that aspect.

"Good job," Harry said.

"Next," McGonagall said.

"Professor McGonagall got the Headmaster's notebooks with his speculations on the Philosopher's Stone and the Chamber of Secrets," Luna said. "He believed that Voldemort could have recreated himself by himself with the Philosopher's Stone alone, although that would have destroyed the Stone. He was unsure about the Chamber."

"We'll search the Chamber Saturday," Moody said.

"Exactly who will?" Ginny asked nervously.

"Myself, Russell, Harry, Granger, your brothers Ron and Charlie, Lupin, Tonks, Hagrid, McGonagall, and Flitwick. Slughorn will be along to help deal with the basilisk carcase. Those twin terrors will be along after their shop closes as well if we're still there."

Everyone nodded, Ginny for once with satisfaction that she was not being called on to go somewhere.

"Ginny," Harry asked, "did you want to come?"

"No, not especially," Ginny admitted. "I don't think it would help me 'get past' what happened. If you need the help, though, I'm happy to go."

Harry looked at Moody, who shrugged. "No, not really," Harry said. "I just wanted to give you the opportunity if you wanted it."

"May I come?" Luna asked. "If I wouldn't be in the way, I'd like to do a little piece for The Quibbler."

"Sure," Harry said.

"Can we take Lockhart down?" Ron asked.

"What for?" Russell asked, before anyone else could.

"I figured I could hit him on the head with a rock again," Ron answered with a straight face.

"I rather think that curing someone with a head injury by hitting him again is a myth," Hermione said drily.

"Cure him?" Ron asked. "Naw, I'd just like to wack the git a few more times."

Hermione and several others rolled their eyes at that. "Next!" Harry said.

"The centaurs 'ave finished markin' their territories," Hagrid spoke up. "They took a bit more than I thought they should've, but not nearly as much as we were afraid they might. I think they an' the spiders will have some problems, then that's none of our concern no more."

"Probably not," Harry agreed. "You don't think those spiders would side with Voldemort, do you?"

"I don't know what they're likely to do," Hagrid admitted. "Still, I did mention to them that he were the one behind the basilisk, so I don't think they would 'ave anything to do with him if they knew it were him."

"Are they settled into a set territory?" McGonagall asked.

"Aye, that they are," Hagrid said.

"Remus?" Harry asked.

"It seems as if all the rogue werewolves were either captured or killed the other day," Remus admitted. "The few remaining fence-sitters are still sitting as far as I can tell. Once the news about the lifting of some of the restrictions become generally known, I'm sure we won't have any trouble with them."

"That will go down well in the Minister's Office, although I can't say it will be popular in a lot of other places," Arthur said.

"I'm hardly shocked," Remus said drily.

"The Minister seems . . . well, not happy or satisfied, but he seems to think things are going moderately well," Arthur said.

"I think he's getting a bit too heavy-handed in using Harry's name," Hermione said.

"I told him that last night," Arthur said. "He agreed to cut back a bit."

"Has he contacted the Muggle Prime Minister yet?" Hermione asked.

Arthur shook his head, "Not directly. Kingsley has been briefing him, and the Minister knows that."

"Anything else, Mister Weasley?" Harry asked. Arthur shook his head.

"Hermione?"

"Nothing new," Hermione said.

"Ron?" Ron just shook his head. Ginny and Tonks did as well when they were asked.

"Neville?"

"Not really. We have the new greenhouses up and working, if you think they're still necessary."

"I would think so," Harry said. He looked at McGonagall and Russell.

"The dementors are still out there, stronger than they were a year ago," Russell said.

"The Minister has had the aurors do a new home defense manual," Arthur added. "There are going to be Patronus classes offered starting in September."

"And that's one reason why the Board decided to keep the school open only to First through Fifth years," McGonagall agreed. "They and the Ministry seem to be hoping that the older teenagers can help defend their homes against dementors."

"The new suggestions include asking extended families to spend the nights together, so that there would be enough people to stay awake in the night," Arthur told them. "Groups are more difficult to overwhelm than an individual."

On that note, the group broke apart.