Sunday, Bloody Sunday

Chapter Fifteen – A Sanctuary, Safe and Strong

"And every time I’ve held a rose

It seems I only felt the thorns

And so it goes, and so it goes

And so will you soon I suppose."

-Billy Joel, "And So It Goes"

Wednesday, November 5, 2003

The teachers of Hogwarts trooped down the hall, following Minerva to the mysterious meeting. Oddly enough, George and Snape walked side by side behind McGonagall, though the reason for the strange pair was Hermione and Harry, walking together behind them. The confidant gleam of earlier in Harry’s eyes had abated somewhat, but it was clear something had changed since the previous day. "I’m sure this wasn’t all my doing. Where did you get your scarf from?" she murmured.

"Mrs. Weasley. Last night, I wandered for a while... I don’t want to be Harry Potter, but it’s who I am. And when I walked into the infirmary, Mrs. Weasley jumped up and ran over and hugged me. Me. Even after I left like I did, without telling anyone I was going... even after Ron left home to follow me, the stupid git... she hugged me and she told me she’d missed me." He smiled slightly. "And then she told me I’d better expect to be taking out the trash at the Burrow for the next ten years, after all the worry I put her through."

Hermione laughed softly, slinging an arm around Harry’s shoulders as they had dozens of times during school. Harry responded in kind, grinning. "So Molly brought your scarf? And who did those glasses for you – I know you can’t pull more than a Wingardium Leviosa with the lack of practice you’ve had since you left."

"Mrs. Weasley’s been wearing the scarf since I left. She did the glasses, too. The entrance was her idea as well... though with the number of Slytherins at breakfast, I’ve no doubt the Dark Lord will know where I am within days." Harry took off his glasses and squinted at them. "These really are hideous. I can’t believe I wore them for twelve years."

"Where else would you be than Hogwarts?" Hermione prodded, ignoring his attempt to change the subject. "With or without Albus, it’s still the safest place on the island."

Any response Harry might’ve had was cut off as the group rounded the corner into a conference room near the Headmistress’ office. Arthur, Molly, Ron, and surprisingly enough, Remus Lupin were all there waiting, along with Madame Pomfrey cuddling the sleeping James Potter. She rose to hand the child over to Harry before returning to her seat, as the rest of the group chose them as well. Anxious to be near the baby, Hermione found herself seated between Harry and George – hopefully she’d not have to spend the meeting doing police duty – and across from Ron, who smiled shyly at her. When Hermione noticed Ron’s reaction, it was all she could do to keep herself from hiding her face in her hands and screaming. George obviously noticed as well, as he reached over to pat her shoulder encouragingly. Hermione smiled back her thanks.

"I received some disturbing news this morning," Minerva began, prompting frightened glances around the table. Hermione looked from face to face, taking stock of all those present. Madame Hooch was there, and Professor Sinistra, whom Hermione seldom saw out of the Astronomy tower. On second thought, all the surviving professors from Hermione’s own time as a student were gathered in the room, along with the surviving Weasleys who were able to attend. Minerva continued, oblivious to Hermione’s musings. "When Albus died, a list of agents of the Order came into my possession. I’ve been contacting each one in turn, to let everyone know I’ve taken over his role of espionage as well, but there is one man I cannot find. Draco Malfoy is our highest placed spy within Voldemort’s infrastructure, and he’s been missing since noon on Monday. Officially, he’s supposed to be in business meetings in Italy, but his contact reported that he never arrived."

Hermione glanced over to check on Harry’s response to the news – not surprisingly, he was gaping in shock. "Malfoy?" he spoke up, prompting attention from all those assembled. "But... when I left, he was a slimy git... at graduation, he certainly wasn’t on our side -"

"Men change, Mr. Potter," Snape shot in, less than kindly. The two locked gazes, the chill almost tangible in the air.

"Draco Malfoy has been working for the Light since October of 2001, Harry," McGonagall shot in, breaking the frozen silence. "At this moment, he could be dead, or our entire spy network could be compromised. Either way, we seem to have lost our most valuable spy. Since Per-" Minerva stopped suddenly, glancing at Arthur and Molly before starting her sentence again. "Since the murders last Tuesday, there have been an enormous number of disappearances. Virginia Weasley is the most known to all of you, since the dark-haired man swept her away from the mob at the Ministry headquarters on Monday afternoon, but almost a dozen others have vanished. Parvati Patil, the woman acting as secretary to Minister Fudge, and the only one in the outer office at the time of the murders disappeared sometime between Monday after work and Tuesday morning, when she was to arrive for a briefing. Lisa Turpin, the MLES photographer who attended to the bodies didn’t appear at work yesterday morning either. Justin Finch-Fletchley never returned home last Thursday, and Susan Bones left to meet her fiancée for dinner on Saturday night, but never arrived. Terry Boot, Sally-Anne Perks, Morag MacDougal, Ernie MacMillan..."

"Sweet Jesus," Harry blurted out, half climbing to his feet, his horrified expression echoed by Ron and Hermione. "Professor, they’re all from my class, except Ginny. They were all in the battle at graduation."

Minerva nodded slowly. "Draco Malfoy is the only Slytherin on the list, and Virginia Weasley is the only member of a class other than ’98."

"He took half of them before I’d even been found... didn’t he? It took from Tuesday to Sunday evening to locate me, after Professor Dumbledore died. They can’t be connected to me, right?" Hermione gently lifted James from his father’s arms. Harry hardly seemed to notice, his concentration focused entirely on McGonagall’s next words.

"Albus was your Secret Keeper, Harry..." Several of the professors glanced at each other in shock, obviously not let into the news until then. "Normally, a replacement would’ve been found within hours after the death of the first Keeper, but the magic of the deceased wears off within a day or two. The first of your classmates to disappear was Justin, on Thursday. You-Know-Who was most likely very aware of your location by the time Justin was taken."

Harry sunk slowly into his seat. "Why didn’t he attack, then? Why take my classmates? I hardly knew half of them!"

"Death Eaters usually attack on Sundays," Ron offered softly. "I’d forgotten how long you were gone. The first Bloody Sunday was the week after you left."

His face was easily as pale as marble, face buried in his hands in silent grief. "Harry, we don’t know if they’re dead," Mrs. Weasley offered, though she looked near to tears herself.

"Most likely, he’s making a point – he’s trying to tell us that Harry’s disappearing act wasn’t an escape," Hermione murmured. A few of those present nodded in agreement. "After all," she continued, "why take only the class of ’98, and only those he wasn’t particularly close to, except to make a point – however morbid that may be."

"Until any bodies are found, they’re believed to be alive." Minerva sent a stern glance at Harry, whose face spoke otherwise. "It’s obvious the kidnappings are connected to your return, but whether they’ll be used as hostages or warnings is yet to be seen. As things stand now, I’ve warned the rest of the non-Slytherin members of the class, and they’ll be either taking Secret Keepers or returning to Hogwarts to help with the defense of the castle."

"Defense of the castle?" Madame Hooch put in. "Is there intelligence suggesting we should expect an attack?"

Snape gave a snort of indignation, which was cut off by another stern glare from McGonagall. The Headmistress continued. "There’s nothing explicitly stating it, no... however, Harry is here. That, and the castle is a symbol of strength and victory to the British Wizarding community. Since the Founding, lore has it that no army has taken the castle. If You-Know-Who takes it, no matter the price, he thinks he’s won the war."

"As if that would be true," Arthur Weasley put in, the scowl on his face seeming out of place on the normally cheerful man. "He must know that – otherwise, why bother to manuever two different candidates for Minister of Magic to his side? And for all we know, the third could be working for him as well!"

"Things can’t be as grim as you’re saying they are, Minerva," Snape quipped, face plastered in a superior sneer. "If I know Albus, he had dozens of back-up plans written up and locked away for every conceivable action. There must be something for this outcome."

McGonagall nodded shortly, summoning a shallow stone basin, engraved with runes, from the back of the room. "Indeed he was ready for the moment of his death. He left a long list of instructions for me. Most disturbing was the number of wards around the castle that were connected to his lifeforce. I’ve managed to replace a good number of them, but I’ll be asking for a great deal of help over the next few days. The most important, however, is this Pensieve. He left specific instructions as to whom would be watching it – we are missing only three from that list; Draco Malfoy, Virginia Weasley, and Frederick Weasley."

"How are we all going to see it?" Harry whispered to Hermione, trying not to detract too much attention from McGonagall.

"Special spell," Hermione murmured back, rocking James slowly to keep him from fussing.

Minerva pointed her wand at the Pensieve sitting on the desk. "Those gathered here were essential in the last war or in the years since You-Know-Who’s return. Expromere," she finished, sending a shower of sparks at the stone basin.

The ghostly figure of Albus Dumbledore appeared in a swirling mist from the liquid-filled bowl. He smiled cheerfully and looked about. The figure was recorded, of course, and didn’t notice Poppy Pomfrey bursting into tears or Minerva McGonagall hiding her face in her hands in anguish. "Hello, there!" he called out, beaming. "If you’re using this Pensieve, I’m no doubt dead and buried – but have no fear, I’d never leave without passing on a few things."

"Get on with it," Snape was heard to mutter, causing glares to be shot at him from several quarters. He glowered and sunk into his chair.

The shade continued, oblivious. "Now, then – first things first! Get an owl, and get Harry Potter back from wherever he’s hiding out over the pond, if he’s not back already. As I was his Secret Keeper, the boy could be in grave danger." Minerva looked incredibly guilty, shooting an apologetic glance over at Harry. "He’s the key to the fall of Voldemort, just as he was the last time around. Harry Potter’s blood flows in the veins of this incarnation of the Dark Lord, tying the lives of the two together. As Voldemort seeks to kill Harry, only Harry can possibly kill the Dark Lord."

The faces of everyone present turned to regard Harry. For his part, the Boy Who Lived sunk into his chair. "Bloody hell."

"To this effect, a spell has finally been created to counter the Killing Curse using Light magic. Harry Potter intoning aedifico cavum at the same moment Lord Voldemort casts the Avada Kedavra will create a vortex of magic, one from which only the caster can escape. Voldemort will be trapped within the vortex and stripped of all ability to do magic simultaneously. While the effects of this spell have obviously not been tested, I’m positive that the combination of these stimuli will be the end of our Dark Lord troubles for quite some time!" Hermione couldn’t help but gape at the cheerful face of the Headmaster’s recording. She wondered how long the answers had been held in the depths of the Pensieve; how long ago Dumbledore’s spell could’ve rid the world of Voldemort’s evil. The recording kept smiling broadly, if a little more somberly than moments before. "Remember the incantation, and remember that Harry must be the one to cast it – I’m not sure if it will work effectively for anyone other than Voldemort’s blood brother. I wish I could be there to see its use, but I have confidence in all of you. Good luck!" And the image faded.

Silence reigned for a long beat before protests of confusion and anger burst from around the table. Minerva stood, pushing the Pensieve out of the way, and called for attention. "Listen to me! I don’t know how long the spell’s been ready! I don’t know why Albus wasn’t ready to use it before now, but I’m sure there was a reason!"

"But we have it now!" George exclaimed, pushing to his feet to address Harry over the top of Hermione’s head. "You’ve got your wand, Potter! We can lure You-Know-Who to wherever, you cast the spell, and Poof! We’re free!"

There was another roar of discussion, this one tinged with excitement. Hermione shook her head, rocking James to comfort him. They didn’t know. They didn’t realize.

Harry’s response brought silence. "I can’t cast the spell."

"What?" George broke it, face growing red in fury. "What do you mean, you can’t cast it? Say the bloody words and finish the damned war!"

"You don’t understand, George... I want to cast it, but I can’t." He sighed and stared down at his hands. "I haven’t used magic in four years. I can’t cast a spell of that power – in fact, I can’t gather the power to summon my glasses to me in the morning."

~

Several hours later, in a back alley of Hogsmeade, Draco and Ginny crouched, waiting for darkness to descend. Her hair once again dulled to a conservative brown, not even Madame Rosmerta at the Three Broomsticks had recognized Ginny – and Draco’s similar disguise easily hid his identity. "Malfoy, are you going to tell me the specifics of the plan yet? It’s only a few minutes until sundown, and I’m sick of waiting on you."

"We’ll have to Apparate right to the edge of the field and make a run for it... there are Death Eaters in the forest. I’d just glamour myself invisible, like I usually do to make my reports, but there’s not enough Veela blood in me to cast a glamour as powerful as that on you," he muttered with a frown.

"So go in with invisibility. I’ll make a run for it, while you make sure to slip inside and grab Madame Pomfrey, in case I’m hurt." Ginny shifted away from Draco slightly, unnerved by the expression of caring on his face.

Malfoy shook his head forcefully, his gaze intense. "There’s no way I’m letting you run alone. It’ll be five Death Eaters chasing you within moments of Apparating. That’s suicide."

"How does anyone make it to the school if so many Death Eaters are against them?" Ginny retorted with a snort of indignation borrowed from Blaise. "I don’t look like a Weasley at the moment, I could walk right past them!"

"Ahh, but they’re specifically watching for you, on Voldemort’s orders," he countered. "There were Death Eaters egging on the mob. They WANTED a chance to catch you – and they’ll stop you to figure out who you are before you can get halfway across the Quidditch field, unless you make a run."

"Fine! I’ll run, and you’ll run under your glamour thing!" Ginny grumbled, crossing her arms.

Draco sighed in resignation. "Fine. I’ll get Madame Pomfrey the moment I enter the building, alright? I’m just worried about you."

Ginny climbed to her feet awkwardly, taking a step away from Malfoy. "Right, worried about the Mudblood-lover. Are you ready to do this? My mum is probably sick with fright."

She heard Draco make a few choice curses as he stood, but he brushed off his robe and readied himself with a nod. "I’ll count to three. On three, Apparate to the cedar at the edge of the Quidditch field. That’s the closest Apparation point to the castle."

"I know, Malfoy. I went to school there too," Ginny replied with a glare.

Draco visibly winced at the use of Malfoy, but began the countdown anyway. "One," he muttered, tapping his wand to the side of his head. He slowly faded from sight, leaving just an outline, and then nothing. "Two." The disembodied voice came from somewhere closer to Ginny, but she ignored it and closed her eyes to prepare.

"Three."

She Apparated, turning immediately to start dashing for her goal. The back doors near the Quidditch pitch were easily within reach, though she heard a shout of alarm less than a minute after appearing. Ginny changed her straight run to a zigzagging pattern as the first curse was hurled at her from behind. The door, her only goal. Every ounce of strength thrown into making the distance.

Ginny’s hand clamped onto the door long before the Death Eaters would’ve had a chance to catch up with her. Turning the corner, she collapsed against the wall inside the protection of Hogwarts and sunk to the ground panting for air. Finally, she’d come to her sanctuary.