Hero Against Own Will

Chapter Four. The Warriors of freedom.

"Independence? From who? The Narretians? The G'lost? Or from your own illusions?" Max cried out angrily, making Moore and Krad cover their ears.

"From the belief that we are simply mortals doomed to die and unable to change our lives..." The Traitor replied.

- Ivan_K, "The Renegades".

Diary of H.J. Potter, 23^rd of January, 2006.

... Another day gone, another fine discovery made. I have finally managed to see that the blade is actually reacting only to the warm-blooded ones, since a pet iguana one of the rebels has is the only living being here that the sword ignores completely. I am yet to find out why does it react so, but I am sure that it's one of those "soul-stealing" blades... Now if I only suddenly got a soulstone falling into my hands...

*****

"So, those runes... They tell the same legend?"

"Not exactly, you see... There were three versions of the legend, all deliberately inaccurate so that all from outside the Order would not have the truth in their hands..."

"And besides the swords and the scrolls there also were?"

"The decorations in the temples. But those are now all under control of the SS, and as far as I know, I am one of the few of us who are still unknown to the Enemy," Max explained.

Harry stretched, for he was sitting here for the fourth hour straight, listening to Max explain it all, now that Hermione finally gave Harry a green light in all this.

"Alright. Then how do we decipher it all? And, most important, why do the SS want the sword so badly?"

"Well, we can still try and win those temples back, because they're not really seriously guarded, and all we need are the photos of it so we can decipher the thing elsewhere... As for the blade - there are nasty rumours hanging about, and they say that Voldemort recruited demons to win this world in the first place. So we are a threat, and we with those swords... Especially Demonslayer... We would become invincible to his minions... And he knows that. And he fears that, apparently."

"And we'll make it come true?" Harry asked with a nasty grin as he eyed the black blade once again.

"We can try."

*****

Several days later, a horrid series of noises made Harry look out into the hallway from his room, an event so rare that several of the revolutionists received a lot of shock from that sight. The reason for this entire disturbance turned out to be the return of a strike team from an attempt of stea-- er-- borrowing a supply of tools and electronics necessary for the establishment of an underground radio station - another of Hermione's Muggle ideas as how to win the crowd.

One way or the other, judging by the looks of what was left of the team, and especially Hermione herself, they did not fare well. Bullet wounds and cuts and several fractures... It sure looked like all hell broke loose out there.

"What happened?" Harry asked of one of the less wounded.

"We got ambushed... Those SS people... led by some blond pretty-boy..." the man tried to explain, but it seemed that words escaped his grasp.

"Malfoy... So, he--" Harry concluded quietly.

"Yes, Harry..." Hermione interrupted, "It seems that either he is a mind-reader..." she stopped as a coughing fit seemed to come over her, and when she coughed, she coughed with blood, "Or there is a mole here..." the last words were barely audible as she lost her consciousness.

"It must be the blood loss that got to her finally..." one of the women tending the wounded said, "Let's move her before she dies here!" she commanded and several men and women helped her carry Hermione's limp form away.

*****

Diary of H.J. Potter, 28^th of January, 2006.

...Yesterday Hermione's strike team returned from their supposed supplies-gathering mission, and those who were still alive at the moment were quite close to meeting those who already weren't. I'm still surprised how some of them made it out alive with so many wounds and so little actually intact flesh.

Hermione herself... Well, she seems to think one of them turned traitor and sold our plans out to the coppers, but I keep thinking there's something else... The blade started glowing in the dark. Not just glowing, it's pulsing in a strange blue-black shade - I think the full moon makes it act that way. Those rumours of Voldemort having allies among demons... Maybe they were right?

*****

Several days later he was called in to her room - she still had not recovered fully from her wounds, but at least she could walk and talk on her own, without a machine supporting her life. He knocked on her door cautiously and, upon hearing a permission to enter, he opened it wide.

"You look like a wreck, do you know?" he said merrily as he walked in.

"Tell me about it," she replied with a weak smile as she hobbled towards him to shake his hand in a welcoming gesture, but winced as pain seared through her left leg. Harry threw himself forwards to support her weight as her own feet seemed to have failed doing that.

"Gee, you must lie down before you hurt yourself!" he said in a semi-commanding, semi-joking voice.

"Yes, mother..." she replied with a grin as he helped her to her bed the medics set up in a specific way for her current state.

"So... What did you call me for?" he asked when she was lying down finally.

"Well... As you're the leading scholar here - I'm not up to snuff since I last did any scholar activity five years or so ago - I want you to know that this Demonhunter sword business is to be done over with as quickly as possible..." she stopped here to cough, "...and Max can help you in that. Even if Voldemort isn't using demons to do his bidding anymore, if he ever did, those blades might work as a symbol - they're not forbidden for nothing."

"I know, and Max seems to agree... But don't you think that two men don't make an army yet and your people are too weak or undertrained for what you want us to do?" Harry asked earnestly.

"I know, but this is going to be a bit different from you might've seen. We know only of one Demonhunter temple still intact, and Max can lead you there. Problem is, only a small team could make its way in and out safely... After all, all you need are the photos of the place."

"Yes, but they have to be good for my work to be possible," Harry replied, "And that means we'll need to be inside for a long time, and the guards might not agree with our tour taking too long... Unless we arrange that they can't disagree, that is..." he added with a hungry predator's smile.

"You're reading my mind," she replied merrily.

He was almost out the door when he turned around and looked at her with interest suddenly.

"You said you were a scholar?"

"Yes... Before the additional limits to the Muggle-born society, I was working in experimental fields of physics," she said with an absent-minded smile, as if she was looking into the past as she said it.

"Experimental?"

"Hand-carried lasers. Could be a military breakthrough, if it was finished, but the wizards up above thought better of giving Muggles and Muggle-borns such a weapon..."

"...And they shut you down?" Harry supposed aloud.

"Exactly. I went here and there, but could find no appliance to my quite area-specific knowledge anywhere, so I resorted to more extreme ways of spending my life," she replied with a shrug.

"Trying to save the world?" Harry asked of her with a grin.

"Trying to free the world from the idiocy and darkness it had plunged itself into," Hermione replied with a suddenly serious face, "Harry, Max says he knows where you can find a temple of the Demonhunters. Apparently, you have to go with him, as you're the specialist on this kind of stuff... And it seems that we need your help. Don't make us regret helping you, okay?"

Harry stood there for several moments after her words finally reached his mind, but since neither of them could think of a single thing to say, he just nodded and left swiftly.

*****

Wherever I'll go you'll be with me,
My first thought and my last,
Though we'll depart in bitterness,
One day you'll understand...
Will you still wait for me?
Will you still cry for me?
Come and take my hand...

- Blind Guardian, "The Maiden and the Minstrel Knight".

He did something he didn't do for a long time - he went to get himself a drink. Going up into the bar, the Blind Guardian song, a beautiful ballad, enveloping him as he waded his way through the crowd towards the bar, ignoring the looks several Resistance people threw him - he was still at large, and being out in the open surely wasn't a good idea.

"Barkeep - whiskey," he asked, reaching into his pocket and fishing out a small roll of 10-pound notes. He accepted the proffered glass and downed it one gulp. It didn't change anything in the way he felt, so he asked for one more. This one, however, he drank in slow small gulps as he surveyed the crowd.

"I never knew a person with your ideals could end up in a heavy metal joint."

He turned towards the voice, an all-consuming feminine voice, so familiar, yet so alien at the same time... The pretty face of Virginia Weasley was what he saw upon close inspection.

"Oh, Miss Weasley... I didn't know that being a sister of the Minister of Culture you'd favour such places yourself," he replied merrily as he finished off what few of his drink was still left and ordered one more. "I myself ended up in here since this was the closest place that has my favourite drink," he explained as he raised the freshly filled glass as an explanation, "And your excuse will be?" he added with a smile.

"Let's say it gets quite dull being the always-correct little sister of my brother, so I seek places which can be surely alien to the likes of him."

"Heh. As if he doesn't listen to rock or anything like it?" Harry asked with a grin.

"Nope. On the contrary - hates it with a passion. So, naturally, after growing up next to him, I am attracted to such places by my very blood," she explained as the barman handed her the drink she ordered - some wild-coloured cocktail, it sure looked as if it was a hellish mix of alcoholic substances so different that an unprepared human organism surely would have melted on the spot if said organism would've done what she did - downed it in one go, and faster than Harry did with his whiskey too.

"And the drinking? You always like that?" he asked carefully. She coughed after she swallowed, and that was a reply in itself.

"No," she replied hoarsely, "As they--" she nodded at the stage where someone was harassing the guitar in a Motorhead song Harry didn't know, "--say, today is a good day to die."

"Ooh, the young lady knows her Manowar, eh?" an all-leather-clad man in his mid-forties asked of them as he passed by. Virginia nodded affirmatively, and, when the man left, shrugged at Harry, both of them erupting into laughter.

"So, Mr. Potter, how does it feel to be on the run?" she asked of him with a grin he could not quite characterize.

"Is it a threat?" he asked seriously. She shook her head. "Feels awful. Can't go into a bar to get a drink - you have lots of people asking for autographs..." he started, making her laugh, but went on nonetheless, "...until when all have those, then they call the cops," he finished with a serious face, and that made her laugh even harder.

"No, it wasn't a threat..." she replied matter-of-factly, "I still am thinking what made us slip back then... At Hogwarts..." she added, quieter and somewhat sorry-looking.

"Probably it was my Squib manifesto," said Harry, "After all, that's why they kicked me out. And I still wonder why you would act as a complete stranger back then - at the party last year."

"Hey, you changed a lot... So I didn't recognize you at first... And when I did, Ron came about and it wasn't quite a fitting company for talking to my ex-boyfriend, eh?" she asked with a smile that made Harry feel like melted butter - warm all over.

"Well, that would've depended on what you want from said ex-boyfriend..." he replied as he finally downed that glass he was holding in his hand for a considerably (as compared to the previous ones) long time and set it on the bar.

"I'm afraid I don't know that myself, frankly, and know of no way to fix that..." she replied, looking confused and (as Harry thought, at least) extremely cute.

"I think I do..." he replied in a whisper as their lips met in a quick kiss that left both of them slightly tipsy and wishing for more.

"Now I remember!" she exclaimed suddenly, making Harry draw back in surprise.

"What?" he asked, looking baffled and feeling disoriented.

"Why we split up back then! I caught you snogging Hannah!" she said merrily, as if retelling a funny joke.

"Yeah, but she was kicked out the next year, when the halfbloods were banished, right?" Harry asked. Virginia nodded in reply.

"Yeah, I was all like 'Serves you right for stealing my guy!' back then..." she said with a grin that clearly said that she still thinks the same.

"So... Do you think there's a chance for the two of us... now?" Harry asked warily.

"Harry! There you are! Max said there's pressing business!" Dean's voice interrupted whatever Virginia was going to say as Dean himself waded through to crowd to grab Harry by his hand, "So stop drinking and let's go!" he added, but then cut himself short as he noticed her.

"Hey, you're Dean Thomas, aren't you?" she asked merrily, "Where are you taking Harry?"

"He's helping us solve a small problem here... Now if you could excuse us..." Dean replied weakly as he forced himself through the crowd, pulling a swiftly excusing Harry after him.

"See you soon! Sorry about this!" Harry yelled to Virginia before she left his sight as the crowd closed in on the place he occupied at the bar.

"No problem!" he heard her yell back before the noise of the music and the voices of the crowd blocked that reminder of her existence in his life as well...

*****

"Okay, the plan's as follows: I have made a rough map of the area as I remember it. We move in from the south--" Max started, pointing out the directions on the makeshift map that looked (and probably even was) hand-drawn, "-- and down this road. There's a probable sniping point in this window, since it's high above and is not very visible from the ground, but the shooter that's up there sees you as if you're in his hands. That's why we're taking two more men onto this mission," he said, gesturing over to the two shadows outside the light of the only lamp in the room. The "two more men" stepped up boldly, and one of them Harry recognized.

"Nev? What are you doing here?"

The young man named Neville Longbottom, expelled the same year as Harry for failing the exams despite his pure blood, shrugged.

"Hey, they didn't let me do any real jobs as a Squib. So the best for me was to come to these guys. Of course I still have to do a cover-up job, but this time I know it's for some purpose."

The other man, however, was not familiar to Harry's eyes, since he was wearing a mask, although the uniform, on the contrary to its bearer, was. The uniform he was wearing was one of the standard-issue uniforms of the special ops police force of the United Kingdom that was issued after Voldemort took control of it, although it did not bear any name tags, rank signs, stars, insignias and other stuff that's usually on one's uniform, as if this one was just out of the warehouse. The mask was a fitting one - the kind of masks that Special Forces members wear to hide their faces (and the kind skiers wear to keep their faces warm).

"And who's the copper?" Harry asked of Max, nodding at the man in question with suspicion.

"Let's say I'm here to help and end on that," the masked man said.

"Is it my imagination, or his voice is somehow familiar?" Harry thought, but then considered that if they, meaning Max and Hermione, trust him, so shall he. For the time being, at least.

"Then how shall we call you?" Neville asked strictly, "You don't expect us to call you 'Hey' and 'Come here', right?"

"Right. You can call me Snake."

"Alright, Snake it is then," Max announced merrily, looking as if he was the only one who knew who this man really was, but would not share this knowledge even if threatened with death. "Let's get on with it. Neville's doing the sniping job for us tomorrow, and this will be his sniping place," he explained, pointing at the map, "Please make sure he knows it's you and does not put a bullet through your head in the middle of the fight, alright?"

Harry and Snake nodded affirmatively.

"He holds himself like he's really military, not police... I wonder where he got that nice uniform..." Harry thought as he listened to Max describe how they should be identified.

"Harry - you're with the black armpatch. Snake gets a green one, mine will be red. Neville's going to be the one without any, since he's not going into the actual field, but staying at the hilltop. Neville - if you do have to leave, warn us by the radio, okay?"

"Er... What will we be wearing so that we can only be distinguished by armpatches?" Harry asked carefully. Snake simply jabbed himself in his chest.

"These. I've got three more sets of those in my car upstairs. We can easily deceive the guards that way, since they use a wide mix of camouflage uniforms - the Lord doesn't think this temple is of major importance to him. Yet. Therefore, the supplies are going out of line - what's left (if anything) is what they get (if ever). And this is our big fat chance."

"And since you're wearing this uniform... And hiding your face by a mask... What are your interests in this case?" Harry asked suspiciously, trying to remember whose voice Snake's reminds him of.

"My interests? Let's say I have my own issues with the rule of the Lord, and want to make sure it comes to an end. In current circumstances, it means helping you lot out."

"Alright. When are we starting out?" Neville asked as he put the long bag he had on his shoulder all this time. It looked as if something rifle-like was within.

"In three hours. It's a long drive, so make sure you have everything ready," Max replied as he rolled up the map.

*****

Diary of H.J. Potter, 1^st of February, 2006.

...This is getting weirder and weirder every single day. Tonight Max announced that we're going in to that temple of the Demonhunters. Part of me rejoices as it's going to be the biggest archaeological discovery in my life. Part isn't, since he's bringing some strange guy calling himself Snake along - and I feel like I know him. He acts as if he's military or the like, yet he refuses to tell anything about himself - he even hides his face behind a mask.

Also, to attend this meeting, I was forcefully dragged away from Virginia, my precious Virginia... I still remember our short but sweet kisses back in school - I was 15 then and she was 14... She thought that a guy in glasses is cute, and I thought that a guy in glasses that met her is incredibly lucky...

But then I was kicked out of school and soon moved to Germany - and met her again only last Christmas... Seeing her that day made me feel as if time had stopped, as if I was fifteen again, and again in love... And I have a suspicion that she's feeling the same - and now we accidentally run into each other. I might even start believing in fate if things keep going that way...

*****

Harry's packing up was short and easy. The two Berettas he got from his journey here, several spare clips for them (two from Seamus and three more from the local "warehouse"), the black sword that Max let him keep for the time being and the daggers he stored in his sleeves just in case as every self-respecting paranoid person would've done if said person had access to two of such easily concealed daggers. After a quick check of everything, he closed his bag and headed out.

Snake, Neville and Max were already outside, waiting for him.

"So, we set out on our crusade against those infidels guarding the temple, eh?" he asked of them with a happy grin.

"And we shall bring victory home!" Neville added in the same tone.

"And prove that independence is the true way of humanity!" Max continued.

"And get into the blasted car before we are arrested for shouting in the street in the middle of the night as well," Snake observed as he got into car, occupying the front passenger seat, Max taking the wheel and Neville and Harry getting onto the back seat.

"And we're off!" Max announced as he started the engine.