The End

Additions to Disclaimer: I don't own anything that has anything to do with Alias, which was created by J.J. Abrams. This chapter title is lifted from the song "Let Your Troubles Roll By" by Carbon Leaf.

Chapter 10: An Undone War Still Wages and Stings

By the following Wednesday, the excitement over the Quidditch game had died down, even among the easily excitable student body and Hermione and Michael had both been called upon to teach.

The rest of the team spent the morning in the library, attempting to continue their research, even though they really had only a limited idea of where this fight would take them next.

Ron finally got fed up with the futility of it all and asked, "When will we find out where Malfoy went?"

"I can download the information to my laptop computer, but we'll have to get away from Hogwarts first," Sydney replied, setting down her quill.

Harry and Ron caught each other's eyes and shrugged, supposing that this was just as good a time as any.

Since it was nearing lunch anyway, they decided to make the excursion a picnic and Harry and Ron went to the kitchens instead to get the food, while Sydney went back to her room for her laptop. They met back in the Entrance Hall then began the trek to Hogsmeade.

Once there, Harry found himself in the limelight again, as random people on the street, who apparently took more time to calm down than giddy students, congratulated Harry on his Quidditch game. Luckily, their destination was on the outskirts of town, so it was decided that Harry didn't need to leave the others for a crowd deterring detour.

"There you have it," Ron said as they approached an inconspicuous rock formation, "the best hiding place in all of Hogsmeade."

"Sirius hid here almost our entire fourth year," Harry said with a hint of sadness in his voice as they started to climb. "Nearly starved to death, but he was never found."

Ron too looked uncharacteristically sullen at the mention of Sirius, so Sydney, although curious about him, decided to find another time to ask.

"Here we are," Harry said as they finally finished the climb and slipped into the cave.

"You'd never guess it was this big from the outside," Ron said, trying to look cheerful, but failing miserably. In fact, both Harry and Ron were looking a bit claustrophobic.

"You alright?" Sydney asked as she pulled her computer out of her bag.

"Oh, yeah, fine," Ron replied, digging through the food they brought along. "Is that really all the equipment you need? I thought it would be a lot bigger."

"All the fancy stuff is in orbit," Sydney explained, taking a sandwich from Ron. "This is just used to retrieve the information."

"What do you mean?" Ron asked.

"Well," Sydney said thoughtfully, "right now, about twenty thousand miles above us there is a CIA satellite. It's tracking the decay of the radioactive isotope we injected in Malfoy and when I tell it to, it will send his location to this computer." When she noticed the confused expression on his face she added, "Are you following any of this?"

"Are there lots of these satellites up there?" Ron asked.

"Only a couple thousand," Sydney replied. Her tone was sarcastic, but she was actually quite pleased that Ron was showing such an interest in Muggle technology.

"Well, that explains why I kept failing my astronomy exams," Ron said. "After that, I'm lost. Harry, you grew up with Muggles, maybe you can translate."

But Harry wasn't listening. He had his head against the stone wall, his brow knit, as though he was desperately trying to block out an unpleasant memory.

"Harry?" Ron asked carefully, shaking him slightly, but to no avail.

Harry was instead sitting in the same place of the same cave, while the rain poured outside and collected an ever deepening puddle on the stone ground. Lightning lit up the dark sky occasionally, illuminating the three huddled figures in the cave.

They were trying to avoid doing anything that would indicate they were there, but eventually Hermione could stand the cold and wet no longer. She cleared the water out of the bottom of the cave, sealed the entrance, and then conjured a small blue fire in front of them. Ordinarily, Harry might have objected, but the heat from the fire was too inviting.

They sat in silence for some time, unable to think of anything to say, or, rather, how to say what they thought. Meanwhile, they all battled with the desire to go and join in the fight and the impulse to stay where they were and wait it out. Occasionally, a bang sounded in the distance, one quite unlike a thunderclap.

After a while, Ron glanced at the small blue fire in the middle of the cave, then between Harry, Hermione, and the large bag of marshmallow like snacks he'd bought in Honeydukes, then back to Harry, and finally to his wand. If his companions noticed anything odd about his behavior, they didn't mention it, at least not until he pulled out a marshmallow, stuck it on the end of his wand, and made to thrust the sweet into the fire.

"Wait!"

"Stop!"

Before another second had elapsed, Hermione had grabbed his wrist and pulled his arm back and Harry had pulled out his own wand, apparently ready to extinguish the fire if Ron got any closer.

Ron, however, sat back, pulled the marshmallow off his wand, and burst into fits of laughter.

"Blimey, you two really are tense."

"Give us one reason why we shouldn't be," Harry muttered, with the air of someone who knew he had been tricked. However, it was exceedingly difficult to stay angry with Ron for long, especially after he located some real sticks and passed one of them and a handful of marshmallows to each of his friends.

They might have looked like the Muggle snack, but these marshmallows were clearly magic. They changed color depending on their temperature while expanding until they were approximately the size of a human head, at which point they would explode, covering everything in a sticky mess. This happened several times, until Harry, Ron, and Hermione mastered the timing.

Half an hour later, Ron's supply of marshmallows had been depleted and they all felt rather sticky inside and out, despite Hermione's best cleaning spell. Less lasting was the happy feeling that their brief break from grim reality had given them.

Feeling he could wait no longer, Harry said, "I'm going back to Hogwarts. You don't need to come with me, this isn't your battle."

Ron and Hermione looked aghast.

"Not our battle!" Hermione demanded. "How did you decide that?"

"It just isn't," Harry sighed

"You're going to have to do better than that, mate," Ron said. "It's not like we haven't fought Death Eaters before."

"This time it's different," Harry informed them cryptically.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Harry," Hermione said, "but if you go in there we're coming too."

"Fine," Harry moaned. As much as he wanted to keep them from as much danger as he could, he was grateful for their help, even selfishly so. "But I want you to promise me something."

"What?" Ron asked.

"If I don't make it out, I want you to get out, take your parents and siblings," Harry explained. "Leave England, leave Europe, go anywhere just as long as it's far away, and be happy for awhile."

Neither seemed entirely certain of how to respond to that. Of course they wouldn't just run and leave the world to Voldemort, not while they could still fight, and it was slightly insulting that Harry thought they would even consider behaving otherwise. And why was he going on about dying all of a sudden?

"Harry, if this is about that prophecy," Hermione started.

"So what if it is," Harry muttered.

"You told us Dumbledore said that it will only come true if you and Voldemort make it," Hermione replied.

"Well, Voldemort doesn't know that, does he," Harry pointed out. "And even if he did, you really think he'd let me live, knowing that I'm the only person who could kill him, especially now that we've destroyed all his Horcruxes."

"No one's suffered more at Voldemort's hands," Hermione said, "but that doesn't mean you should go in there looking for a fight. McGonagall sent you that warning so you would stay away."

"McGonagall sent me that warning so I would know what was happening and make my own decision," Harry replied. "I'm going to go in there and fight with everything I have, and there's a good chance I won't live to tell about it, but if I don't try then this is never going to stop."

"Harry, you're going in there, that's fine, and we're coming with you whether you like it or not," Ron said forcefully.

"We've come with you this far, Harry," Hermione added. "This is hardly the time to back out."

Harry wanted to ask them once more to stay behind and not put themselves in jeopardy for his sake, but he knew it was no use. Instead he said, "Can we go then?"

"Harry!" Ron said, shaking him awake.

"What?" Harry asked groggily, returning to his usual plane of reality. He was still in the cave, but it was sunlight pouring down through the cave's entrance, not rain, and Hermione had been replaced by Sydney. "What'd I do?"

"Well, nothing," Ron admitted, "but I was trying to ask you something."

"Sorry," Harry said shakily, wiping his hand across his forehead and stopping over the familiar bump of his scar. "Sorry, I must have drifted off, what'd you need?"

"It doesn't matter," Ron replied. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"'Course," Harry replied. "I'm fine." However, Harry hadn't quite managed the art of looking fine while saying it.

Ron crossed his arms and demanded, "Come on, mate, let's have it."

"It's nothing," Harry said, groping around for a satisfactory excuse. "I was just thinking."

"About what?" Ron pressed.

"Marshmallows," Harry replied with a smirk.

"Ha, yeah," Ron laughed.

Sydney's laptop started beeping suddenly, causing both Harry and Ron to jump, but Sydney merely looked at it curiously.

"What is it?" Harry asked.

"The computer determined where Malfoy went," Sydney replied, tapping a few buttons. "It looks like he's been there for a few days, this might be their base. I'm pulling up a visual." She turned the laptop so they could see the screen. "Recognize it?"

"Can you give it a wider view?" Harry asked after studying it a moment, "so we can see nearby cities as well?"

Sydney did as Harry requested and pointed out London on the map. The dot indicating Malfoy's location was several miles to the west. She overlaid a map on the satellite image, revealing that the dot was in Wiltshire.

"Malfoy Manor," Harry breathed.

"You're sure?" Sydney asked.

"Yes," Harry replied.

"Oh, that's original," Ron said, disgusted. "Leave it to him to use his own mansion. We could've guessed there and not even bothered with the Quidditch match."

"It doesn't look very well guarded," Sydney said, zooming back in on the building. "There aren't even any guards outside."

"Wizards don't need guards to keep something protected," Ron said. "We found that out in our first year."

"They're trying to stay unnoticed, anyway," Harry reminded them. "Guards on the outside would only arouse suspicion. The place is bound to be protected by charms."

"Well, there must be some way his followers get in without having to deal with all that, the trick is to find it," Sydney said. She changed the display to show an infrared readout. The image immediately changed from a regular picture to a colorful map of the area, with red spots generally indicating people. However, there was a great black void right where Malfoy Manor was supposed to be.

"What are we looking at?" Ron asked.

"Well," Sydney said. "The building is here, but the satellite isn't picking up any heat from it. That means that either something isn't letting any of the heat escape-"

"Or there's so much Magic there that your satellite can't get through it," Harry finished for her.

"You can guess which on is more likely," Sydney said.

"There must be something going on in there," Ron said.

***************

That afternoon the team met in their common room to discuss what they had found.

"So we have no idea what the inside of the building is like and no way of finding out," Michael said after Harry, Ron, and Sydney finished explaining themselves.

"Yeah, that's pretty much it," Ron replied.

"Well, we can't expect to pull this off if we're going in there blind," Michael said.

"It doesn't look like we're going to have much of a choice," Hermione declared. "If this is the best your satellite can do, I don't know of any spell designed to map an area we can't see."

"Well, maybe it's time you learned one," Sydney said accusingly.

"Alright!" Ron exclaimed. "Yelling at each other about it isn't going to help anything. Why don't we just figure this out calmly like civilized people. Harry, you've been awfully quiet, what do you think?"

Harry had been staring into the nearby fire and was only startled out of his reverie enough to say, "Dobby."

As could be expected, Sydney promptly asked, "What's a dobby?" and, while Michael didn't actually say anything, he couldn't help but call Harry's sanity into question for uttering such a random word.

Ron and Hermione, despite having the advantage of knowing who Harry was talking about and why, were divided as well. Ron promptly said, "Of course! Why didn't I think of him?" while Hermione said, "Oh no, we can't bring him into this."

"Oh, come on, Hermione," Ron cried. "Don't start with that spew thing again. He can help us."

"Hasn't he seen enough of the Malfoys for one lifetime," Hermione retorted.

"All we need from him is a map of the place," Harry said. "It's not like we'd ask him to fight or anything."

"Maybe not," Hermione said, "but the fact of the matter is that he's so loyal to you, Harry, that if he thinks you need help he'll give it in whatever way he can. Whether you intend it or not, telling him what we're doing will get him involved."

"What if we don't tell him?" Harry asked.

"How do you intend to do that and still get the information we're looking for?" Hermione replied, crossing her arms.

"I...uh...well," Harry stammered, deferring the question to someone else.

Sydney picked it up, but she didn't seem very happy about it, because she said, "We still don't know who this Dobby is, and once we get this figured out I expect a full explanation. That said, Michael and I could go find him, claiming to be with the Ministry of Magic and say we were assigned to clean out the Malfoy residence. From there we'd tell him we need an accurate map of the place and any potential places where he could have hidden any dark arts supplies, to the best of his knowledge."

"You'd do that?" Ron asked.

"Sure," Michael replied with a shrug. "We do it all the time, it's one of the best ways the CIA gets information."

Even Hermione conceded to the soundness of this plan, so it was agreed that Sydney and Michael would meet Dobby the first chance they got, which, Ron reminded them, was probably as soon as they could, because there was only a few hours until dinner.

"Right, then," Harry said, "before you meet Dobby there's something you need to know."

"What's that?" Sydney asked.

"He's a House Elf," Harry replied.

"What's that?" Michael asked. The Muggle was completely serious, but the repetition of the question caused Ron to chuckle softly.

Several steps ahead of the rest of them, Hermione had managed to locate a small encyclopedia in her room and come back without anyone noticing she'd left. She located a picture of a House Elf and showed it to the Muggles, who tried to hide their surprise; up until that point they had only been vaguely aware of sentient magical species other than Wizards.

Hermione, who had researched all there was to know about House Elves during her S.P.E.W. days, proceeded to give Sydney and Michael more information about the tiny servants than could ever come in useful; their relationships to Wizards, their role in society, and their tendency not to accept pay. It wasn't until she showed signs of beginning a very detailed history of the strange creatures that Harry and Ron jumped in.

"Dobby used to work for the Malfoys," Harry said. "But he's a bit odd of a House Elf and didn't like it there. I managed to free him and now he works in the kitchens here."

"He's not odd," Hermione argued, "he was a slave. The others would do well to follow his example."

"Hermione," Harry said, "we've got a job to do. Can we argue about this later?"

"Sorry," Hermione mumbled.

Harry and Ron finished the explanation with information that was actually helpful, such as how to get to the kitchen, how to tell which elf was Dobby, and the importance of not mentioning that Harry, Ron, or Hermione were involved.

"There's one last thing," Harry said tiredly as Sydney and Michael gathered up parchment and quills. "If Dobby looks like he's going to start hitting himself, stop him."

"Why would he do that?" Sydney asked.

"House Elves are forbidden from speaking ill about their masters," Harry explained. "Dobby doesn't work for the Malfoys anymore, but if he starts criticizing them or revealing secret information then he might start to punish himself anyway."

"And there's no chance that he's seen Sydney and I before?" Michael asked.

"Oh," Hermione sighed, looking downtrodden.

"The House Elves come and clean at night," Ron replied. "It's possible that Dobby has been in here."

"And there's no way of knowing for sure?" Sydney pressed.

"Well, if you go in there and he recognizes you it should be a big hint," Ron said with a shrug.

"Guess so," Sydney said. She put on a strange expression which the wizards had come to recognize as a combination of a smile and a grimace.

"We'll just have to have another story ready then," Michael decided.

With that the Muggles left, leaving a very nervous group of Wizards behind.

***************

When Sydney and Michael reached the kitchens, they and found themselves surrounded by dozens of tiny House Elves. Nothing the three Wizards had said could have prepared them for the strangeness of the scene, but with the coolness of trained CIA officers, they put their own surprise aside and asked for tea as though they had been dealing with House Elves their entire lives. While the drinks were being prepared, Sydney caught sight of a green shirt among the sea of red pillowcases.

"Dobby?" she called.

"Yes, miss?" Dobby replied, eagerly coming forward, the oddness of his attire now in full view.

"You once worked for the Malfoys, did you not?" Sydney asked.

"Yes, miss," Dobby replied, this time with a hint of disgust in his voice.

"I'm with the Ministry of Magic," Sydney continued. "My associate and I are heading the team that will dismantle Malfoy Manor. Any information that you can give us about the layout of the interior would be greatly appreciated."

"You have been working with Harry Potter?" Dobby asked.

"Only in a limited capacity," Michael cut in. "Mr. Potter and his friends also had very valuable information about the Death Eaters."

"But you are teachers here," Dobby interjected, looking confused.

"That is simply the reason we tell people we tell people when they ask why we are staying here. Most of the people who fought Voldemort are involved with Hogwarts in some way. By living here we can gather information from them without causing suspicion, since we are also hoping to draw out any Death Eaters who may have avoided Azkaban," Sydney explained, hiding her annoyance at the House Elf's ability to see through their story so easily.

A look that the agents couldn't quite read crossed Dobby's face, but he said, "Dobby will tell you whatever you need to know."

***************

A few hours later, Sydney and Michael returned to their dormitories with several pages of parchment covered in detailed maps of Malfoy Manor and enough snacks to last the group a month.

What they found wasn't promising. Dobby's information was five years old, but it showed a well fortified old manor with few entrances and a multitude of narrow hallways just begging to have traps set up in them.

"Bloody hell," Ron muttered.

Everyone else agree with his sentiment, Harry especially. He could hardly form a coherent thought as he stared, aghast at the map, remembering another ill-fated trip through a similar maze in his fourth year.

"What are we going to do then?" Hermione asked.

"Oh, there's a way in," Sydney replied, pulling the map toward her for closer inspection. "There always is, the trick is finding it."

"I guess we couldn't just Apparate in," Ron sighed.

"I'm sure that's about the first thing they thought of defending against," Hermione replied. "Not to mention the fact that they'd probably hear us."

"What about Sydney and Michael?" Harry pointed out. "We can't leave them behind."

"Brooms?" Ron suggested. "Floo Powder?"

"I don't know about brooms," Hermione admitted, "but Floo Powder's out, I'm sure they'd defend any fireplace connected to the network."

"We could go in the front door as long as we're disguised as Death Eaters," Michael said.

No one responded, but Harry, Ron, and Hermione couldn't help but look at him as though he'd just uttered one of the most stupid ideas they'd ever heard. Meanwhile, Sydney was nodding slowly.

"Well it seems to work pretty well for the CIA," Michael replied, noticing the Wizards' looks, "but if you'd rather, we could just go up the front door dressed normally and try to fight it out from there."

The Wizards didn't even bother with a response to that suggestion.

"Well, if you've got another idea," Sydney sighed, pushing the map away.

"Nope," Ron said.

"Nothing," Harry added.

After a slight pause, Hermione let out a timid, "Maybe."

"Let's have it," Sydney said, pushing the map toward her.

"Well, we're assuming that the Death Eaters would guard the fireplace connected to the Floo network, but they wouldn't be expecting anyone to get inside through another fireplace."

"And if they are?" Michael asked.

"Then we'll have to fight our way out I suppose," Hermione replied.

"And how do we get to these fireplaces?" Ron pointed out.

"Fireplaces have chimneys," Hermione explained, "we'll just get up on the roof and climb down them."

"The chimneys are accessible," Sydney said, glancing at the map again.

"We should probably go in small groups," Hermione said. "One or two people in each, more than that and we'll make too much noise."

"That still leaves the problem of going in practically blind to an area that is probably heavily guarded with no easy way of getting out and little or no backup," Michael sighed.

"This is your version of a better plan?" Ron agreed.

"Well, it's better than hoping that we, three teenagers and two Muggles, won't immediately be spotted as imposters when we try to go in under disguise. This could work," Hermione said passionately.

"Besides, there are twenty fireplaces, they can't guard them all," Sydney pointed out.

"There's three floors, we should come in on the first and third, then work our way to the second," Hermione continued. "Chances are Malfoy will be somewhere in the middle, so we can meet up, take him out, and leave."

"At which point we grab our brooms and ride off into the sunset," Ron said, sounding excited.

They stayed up until the early hours of the morning, mapping out the mission and contingency plans.