Companions of the White Warlock

Smoke Year VII - Companions of the White Warlock Chapter XXII Tuesday, November 25, 1997

"Come in!" Harry called nervously. John Russell entered Harry's office at Hogwarts. Harry was seated, with Hermione and Luna on either side of him. Russell took another seat.

"So?" Harry asked simply. Russell sighed.

"No success?" Hermione asked.

"None at all," Russell answered. "He won't even give us his name. I've never seen anything like it."

"Is it possible that he doesn't know any important information?" Harry asked.

"Possible? Unfortunately, yes. I don't think it's probable. As I said, I could get no definite information from him. However, he could not prevent some involuntary reactions. At the very least, he knows where Voldemort was holding up when he last met him, and he knows some of the locations of the Companions."

"Is that information worth enough to destroy his mind?" Hermione asked.

Russell shrugged. "It's a very tough judgement call," he said. "It is, after all, possible that Voldemort learned his lesson from the quarry attack and won't be caught out that easily again. It is also possible that the locations this man knows for the Companions and the groups associated with them are just port-key drops."

"Which are?" Harry asked.

"You show up and there are port-keys available to use," Russell answered. "You may have to use a special password to activate them, or some may be trick port-keys to some volcano or deep under the ocean. Imagine a safe guard, and someone has probably used them, and I would think that the Companions would know a fair number."

"We could still set watch on the locations," Hermione pointed out. "And he could also know the identities of people involved who are out in the general magical communities."

"I'd say it's very possible," Russell agreed.

"But is it probable? is it certain?" Luna asked. "Can we destroy a person for the chance at possibly useful information?"

"I'd say it is probable he could provide us information about the Companions we could really use," Russell said. "Beyond that, well, there I'm less certain. However," he added, "remember, if we go all the way with this, I am stripping away every memory he had. It takes weeks of association spells to clear the dross and we may learn a great deal from chance remarks."

"You've done this before," Hermione stated.

"I have had to do this three times before, including two summers ago."

"I don't think I can authorize it, or ask Scrimgeour to authorize it, either," Harry said. "At least not yet."

Hermione and Luna nodded their agreement. "Are there any ways of softening up his resistance?" Luna asked, "ways which might take some time but which cause no damage?"

"There are," Russell agreed, "however, it means feeding him a rather nasty-tasting potion every day and then keeping him partially sensory-deprived for at least six weeks."

"Meaning?" Hermione asked.

"It means keeping him in a simple cell. The temperature can be comfortable, but shouldn't vary. The same is true of the lighting. The food should be just enough to keep him healthy, and should be bland. There should be as little interaction with him as possible. No reading. No. . . ."

"I think we get the idea," Harry said. The three friends looked at each other, and they shook their heads.

"I agree," Russell said. "If those conditions don't constitute torture, they come close. We might have to resort to such methods, but I don't believe that now is the time."

"Will close confinement at the Ministry be all that much better?" Luna wondered.

"Perhaps not much better, but still better," Russell said. "I doubt if it will soften him, but we can try."

"Should I try Legilimency?" Harry asked. "I don't have any real experience, but. . . ." He trailed off.

"But you have a lot more power than I do," Russell agreed. "In most circumstances, I would agree you should try. However, I think trying to force your way in might cause his mind to actually shut down. There has certainly been extensive tampering done to his mind. We might not only lose him, but you, too."

"Then no," Luna and Hermione chorused.

"You'll talk to the Minister about his confinement?" Harry asked.

"I'll take care of it," Russell agreed. "I'll also mention he might commit suicide if he decides he won't be rescued. He was raised to be a fanatic."

Ron was sitting up in bed, looking longingly out the window when Hermione showed up in the early afternoon. "How are you feeling today?"

Ron shrugged. "A little better. What have you been up to today?"

"I was meeting with Harry, the Prof, and Luna about that lunatic that stabbed you."

"Any progress at getting information out of him?"

"Not really. We'll have to try some slower methods."

Ron looked closely at Hermione. "Why are you nervous?"

"I'm going to make some tests to see if I can help you." Ron gulped nervously.

Hermione pulled her wand and hit the door with a trio of spells. "We don't want to be disturbed." Turning back to Ron, she smiled and walked over to his bed saying, "You don't have to be so worried. This will be a very pleasant set of tests, although I suppose they could be frustrating."

"How so?" Ron asked. "What are you doi . . . eep!"

"Well?" Voldemort demanded, "will you honor our alliance and strike, or not?"

"We will," the burley blond wizard stated, "under two conditions."

Flashes of inspired torture flashed through Voldemort's mind, but he suppressed the impulse. "And what might those 'conditions' be?" he snarled.

"First, you will of course be leading the assault."

Voldemort did not react, although he longed to teach this hybrid exquisite lessons in pain. Instead, he merely nodded and said, "Of course."

"Second, our overseers would like you to strike at Potter again, either directly or indirectly."

Voldemort smiled evilly. He had had a contingency strike plan, which he had hoped he would not have to use. Now, however, it would dovetail nicely into these two demands. "How does this plan sound?"

Sunday, November 30, 1997

"First of all, the good news," Harry said to his Council and his usual outside advisors (Headmistress McGonagall, Arthur Weasley, and Mad-eye Moody). "Madam Pomfrey reports that Ron is progressing nicely. If Snape's information was correct, he could continue to get better for another three weeks or so, and then he'll stabilize as long as he's on the potions." Everyone nodded their understanding.

"Headmistress?"

"There's really nothing to report," she answered. "The academic programs are progressing nicely, and there are no disciplinary problems worth reporting."

"Prof?"

"No leads, no progress," Russell admitted bitterly.

"He cannae hae gone to ground," Moody stated. "He must be planning something!"

"He must be," Harry agreed.

"I hate to bring this up," Remus said.

"Go on," Harry said.

Remus kept his eyes adverted. "Has your link to Voldemort given you any twitches since the battle at the Ministry?"

"Not a twitch," Harry admitted. "Is that worth exploring?"

"I don't think so," Hermione said.

"Why not?" Russell asked.

Hermione and Luna exchanged looks. Hermione turned to the group and said, "We think you're all laboring under a misapprehension."

"In what way?" Arthur asked.

Luna turned to Harry. "Did your scar ever really bother you before you came to Hogwarts?"

"Not really," Harry admitted.

"In fact, it wasn't until you were near Voldemort, planted into Professor Quirrell, right?" Hermione prompted.

"Right. Oh, I see where you're going with this." Harry addressed the group. "Voldemort told Snape that he had not been aware of our connection until after the attack on Mister Weasley here. In fact, he was aware of it that first night. I didn't remember this for a long while, but he entered my dreams, encouraging me to switch to Slytherin."

"Would that even be possible?" Tonks asked.

"If a student or their parents ask within the first week, the Sorting Hat will reevaluate them," McGonagall admitted.

"And the Sorting Hat was uncertain if I should go into Slytherin or Gryffindor," Harry said.

"The point is," Hermione went on, "that most, and perhaps even all, of the contacts were either caused by Voldemort or caused by close proximity."

"So," Luna picked up, "how would Harry push the contact over distance?"

"You might be able to do it," Hermione told Harry, "but we think you'd have to practice Legilimency a great deal to have any real chance."

"Good point," Russell mused. "But who do we get for you to practice on?"

"Oh," Ginny said smugly, "leave that to us."

"No," Harry complained, "not Colin?"

"I think that's who we should ask first," Hermione affirmed.

Harry sighed and turned to Arthur Weasley. "Any news from the Ministry?"

"Only that there is a faction pushing hard to extract information from that Companion by any means necessary," Arthur answered. "I would say we can keep up the slow approach if Riddle doesn't attack before the New Year. If he does. . . ." Arthur shrugged. "Beyond that, there's not a rumble. Even the Press seems to understand that we're all looking for him. Since the dementors were dealt with, though, they aren't nearly as frightened."

"At least we've kept a lid on who the Companions really are," Moody said.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" Tonks asked.

"Keeping the information that we've captured a Companion quite is good," Russell said firmly.

"But is the fact that we now know the Companions exist a good thing to keep secret?" Tonks asked. "If they stay involved, the news will come out sooner or later. The public will be outraged that this was kept from them."

"And if they drop out, that just means they'll be a danger later, maybe a century from now," Hermione pointed out. "Shouldn't they be rooted out now, before they grow even more in power?"

"If we do out them," Harry mused, "that might force them to stay allied with Voldemort."

"Maybe Daddy should start printing some stories," Luna suggested. "That will get people used to the idea. Since some people don't believe parts of The Quibbler anyway, it might not force these people into a stronger alliance, assuming they aren't already in one."

"Good idea," Hermione said, which made Harry and Ginny smile, remembering how Hermione had reacted to Luna in the first months they had known each other. The rest of the group approved Luna's idea as well.

"Does anyone have any other ideas?" Harry asked.

"I did have a request," Arthur said. When he had everyone's attention, he asked Harry, "Molly was wondering where you, where all of you for that matter, might be spending the Yule holidays, should we be so fortunate to still have things quiet?"

Harry shrugged. "Mister Lovegood is making a trip to North America. Hermione is spending Christmas Eve at her parents, and Luna and I, and Dobby, will be at Godric's Hollow."

"Perhaps we should have a big Christmas dinner at Headquarters," Luna suggested.

Harry made a face; Kreacher was still there, after all. Still. . . . "Alright." He looked at Mister Weasley. "You and Mrs. Weasley will just have to get used to being guests instead of hosts."

Arthur smiled at that.

After a number of minor matters were discussed, the Council broke up, leaving Harry alone with Hermione, Luna, and Dobby. "Mister Harry?" Dobby asked.

"Yes, Dobby?"

"May Dobby and Winky plan a nice Yule for everyone?"

Harry gave Dobby a small, sad smile. "Yes, Dobby. Go ahead."

"Is Mister Harry feeling well?"

"I am, Dobby. You and Winky start putting your heads together. Don't forget to consider Sandy in your plans."

"Of course not, Mister Harry!" Dobby disappeared.

"What is wrong, Harry?" Hermione asked. "I can see it's something."

Harry just gave a little half-shrug and stood. He kissed Hermione's forehead, kissed Luna with a bit more passion and said his goodnights.

"What was all that about?" Hermione demanded.

"Do you mean it is not clear to you?" Luna asked, surprised.

"No," Hermione admitted, "I don't understand."

"Harry cannot believe he will ever have a normal life," Luna said. "You know his greatest fantasy as well as I do -- to marry, to sire a family, to play with his children."

"That should be more than a fantasy," Hermione protested.

"I agree of course," Luna said, "but he does not believe he will ever have normal happiness. It's not that he believes he doesn't deserve it, of course, just that he's afraid something will always happen to prevent his happiness."

"He believes he has a wierd, then," Hermione mused.

"Exactly: wierd, fate, kismit, call it what you will," Luna stated. "It's not that he even thinks he's cursed. Still, we can hardly argue that most of the time, Harry is robbed of anything like a normal life."

Hermione nodded and said, "I'm surprised he hasn't tried to distance himself from you after Fred and Ron were attacked."

"He has tried to hint at that, but I assure you, I have ways of proving to Harry that I am not going anywhere," Luna said with a satisfied look.

"Yes, I understand you spend a few nights a week out of the castle," Hermione said drily.

"How did you know?" Luna asked. She knew that Hermione was well-aware that she and Harry were lovers, of course, but not that she knew their schedule.

"The elves know, and they weren't certain if they should report your absences to Professor McGonagall. Since you are on Harry's Council and aren't a regular student anymore, they decided to ask me."

"Ah."

Hermione smiled. "Nothing else to say?"

"No," Luna said. "Have you got the test results back from Ron's specimens?"

"No, I'm waiting until there's a larger database. I don't want to know the results yet."

Luna put a friendly hand on Hermione's shoulder. "Just in case all the results are bad?"

Hermione shrugged. "I know, I should be braver. Ron needs some hope. I'm so afraid that after a few months or a few years of this, he might just . . . give up."

"I cannot imagine Ronald taking that road to the next plain," Luna said doubtfully.

"Long term pain and depression can drive people to do desperate things," Hermione said softly.

"I hope you're wrong," Luna said.

"So do I."

Luna leaned over and kissed Hermione gently. "Be of good hope, my companion."

Hermione gave her friend a wan smile. "Thank you. Now go cheer up Harry."

"I plan to." Luna smiled. "Care to come along?" she teased.

Percy Weasley hesitated outside of his flat. He had not intended to work so late, especially not on a Sunday. Percy's hand hesitated to open the door, and then his hand dropped. Even Percy knew he was working too hard. Percy acknowledged to himself, for once, that his temper was frayed and that he was very tired. He decided then and there that, barring some emergency, he would take a long weekend the next weekend. Maybe he and Penny could make a trip to some Muggle place that she liked. Although he did not care much for the Muggle world, Penny came from there and missed it.

"I'd better tell her that first, right after I apologize," Percy muttered. He took a deep breath and unlocked the door.

Percy looked around, and frowned. The flat was dark. 'Penny must really be angry,' Percy thought. Usually, no matter how late he was, she would be up sitting in the small parlor. Penny had a minor position at Gringotts, and she always had plenty of paperwork to scrutinize.

Percy sighed and went into the bathroom. After changing into his pajamas, he tiptoed into the bedroom. Percy slipped into the bed and froze.

Penny wasn't there.

All sorts of horrible thoughts ran through Percy's mind. Exactly how angry was Penny? Surely, not angry enough to. . . . Percy sprang out of bed and went into the parlor, waving a candle on.

Nothing. Nothing was out of place, no note. Percy picked up the candle and walked into the kitchen. He glanced once around the room, but then froze. He turned back towards the stove.

"Penny!" Percy knelt on the floor and touched his wife. Her body was warm, but not warm enough. Percy touched her neck, and pulled back his hand quickly, having found no pulse. "No!"

"Oh, that is the least of your problems, Percy Weasley."

Percy spun around, pulling his wand. His eyes went wide. "Voldemort!"

"Indeed," Voldemort replied. "And just when did you first dare to say my name, Weasley?"

"Potter might not be right about much, but he is right about you," Percy spat.

"Is he? And what are you going to do to avenge your wife, to save your self?"

Percy looked confused. He backed up a step as Voldemort took on forward. Percy next bumped against the wall. There was no place else for him to go.

Percy raised his wand, his hand shaking. He tried to think of some hex, some defense, anything to stave off whatever was about to happen.

Nothing popped into his mind.

"Nothing to say? Well, I do." Voldemort smiled. "Imperio!"