Born Under A Bad Sign

"Look at this, Petunia!" crowed Vernon Dursley joyfully. "The boy´s going to be out of here a week early! That means only two more weeks!"

"That´s wonderful, dear," said Petunia pleasantly. "Perhaps we could go on holiday to Brighton, like we planned, before our Dudders has to go back to school?"

"Boy!" shouted Vernon, "Get down here! Now!" Harry Potter came down the stairs, seeming quite used to his uncle´s shouting. "Your dratted school says you´ll have to be going back on the 25^th this year, because of safety considerations or somesuch. You´ll have to find your own way to get to London, we´re taking a week in Brighton before Dudley goes back to Smeltings."

"Fine," said Harry blandly, "But I´ll have to let Hedwig out."

"As long as it gets you out of my house sooner, I´ll allow it," said Vernon. "But it´ll cost you your breakfast."

Harry stood by his window, re-reading his letter. It was the first time the Dursleys had allowed him to use Hedwig over the summer. Pigwidgeon had arrived the day before, carrying a letter and a Daily Prophet Special Report on the attack on the Ministry. Harry wished he knew more, but the Dursleys wanted him in the dark about anything to do with the wizarding world, and he wasn´t allowed to stay with anyone else, on Dumbledore´s orders.

He signed the letter, and Hedwig flew away with it in her talons. Harry was elated; in only three days he would be free for another year! He was certain he was being malnourished at Privet Drive, but it would all be offset by Molly Weasley´s enormous dinners. His stomach rumbled at the thought, and he wished briefly that he had a social worker. A flicker of movement caught his eye, and he watched as an owl circled the drive and perched on a house across the street. Old Mrs. Figg had owned the house, but shortly after Harry got back to Privet Drive, she had sold it to an eccentric middle-aged man who stayed inside a lot. Aunt Petunia said Mrs. Figg's relatives had sent her to a retirement home. Harry had seen the new owner chasing grasshoppers around the yard in his nightgown with a pair of fireplace tongs. The owl took flight again, and as it passed the side of the house, a light came on upstairs. Harry felt a stab of certainty that the man was a wizard, and without thinking, he climbed out onto the roof. A flicker of colored light came from Dudley´s room; he was still watching the telly. Harry slid over the edge of the roof and landed in the wet grass. Scrambling quickly across the street, he hesitated for a moment, and then pounded loudly on the strange man´s door. Harry felt a tad worried at that point; how did he know this man wasn´t a Death Eater? Although, he thought, Death Eaters didn´t strike him as the types to- His thoughts were interrupted as the man opened the door. To wear tartan nightgowns, that´s it, he finished. The man had a tanned, flabby face and a receding hairline.

"Oh, it´s you, Potter!" he said with a gleeful smile. "I suppose you saw my owl."

"Er, yes," said Harry uncertain what to do in the face of such late-night enthusiasm. "I thought I´d stop by and introduce myself."

"No need, no need," said the man with a smile. "I know who you are quite well, of course. Mundungus Fletcher´s the name. Dumbledore and the Ministry sent me to keep an eye on you. Though, between you and me, I think they´re trying to get me out of the way. Offered me a cushy paycheck for keeping an eye on you!"

"What do you mean?" asked Harry curiously, "Do you work for the Ministry?"

"I do a little for them on the side," Fletcher responded, "But I do a lot of other things too. Freelance work, you know. Pay is good. And insurance fraud, I do a little of that too. Keep it to yourself, okay?"

"Alright," said Harry, thinking that Mundungus Fletcher may have twigged quite a long time ago.

"Now, you get back on home now. The wards out here aren´t near as strong as they are in there," said Fletcher, pointing at the Dursleys´ house, "And I´m not the expert Arabella was either."

"Who?" asked Harry.

"Arabella. Oh, Mrs. Figg to you, I suppose. She was getting old, so her family put her in a home. She was fairly good with wards, they say. Now, get on back." He shooed Harry across the street.

As Harry turned to go with a yawn, he saw headlights coming down Privet Drive at a good speed, and wondered who would be driving here this hour of night. Probably some students out drinking, he thought.

"Potter!" shouted Fletcher, "Get out of the road!"

Harry turned to look at Fletcher, who had drawn his wand. With a start of realization, he ran across Privet Drive towards Number 4, which looked more welcoming than it ever had. As he reached the walk, he heard screeching tires. He turned to look, and slipped on the dew-covered grass. A black luxury car was stopped at a sharp angle in the road. Someone, he couldn´t see who, shouted "Stupefy!" and there was a flash of red light. A beefy man leapt out of the car, grabbed Harry by the neck and one leg, and threw him into the back seat. Two small creatures Harry recognized immediately as goblins set about him with ropes and a gag.

One of the goblins shouted in a shrill voice, "Boss! Let´s go!"

There was a pause. "Boss?"

A man´s head lolled back over the handbrake; he had obviously been stunned. Harry was trying to get a look at his face when Mundungus Fletcher´s head came through the back window with a crash of breaking glass and a cry of "Ow! My face!" A goblin immediately grabbed Fletcher´s ears, and hopped nimbly out the shattered window, taking Fletcher with him onto the pavement. A third goblin Harry had not seen slid into the driver´s seat, fell onto the floor trying to reach the pedals, and floored the car. Mundungus Fletcher was left in the middle of the road, shaking a figure half his size by its long, pointy nose. The beefy man held a cloth up to Harry´s face, and he lost consciousness.

When Harry came to, he was still in the car, bound and gagged. A goblin was steering, sitting on the shoulders of another who worked the pedals. Another goblin sat in the seat on the left, and the beefy man was in the back on Harry´s right.

"Harry Potter!" croaked the goblin in the front. "Allow us to introduce ourselves."

The beefy man rumbled quietly, "We shouldn´t tell him our names, Trigg." The goblin that was named Trigg reached across Harry and slapped the big man´s face hard.

"We don´t let Horace here talk," it said cheerfully. "He´s not the sharpest knife I the drawer, if you take my meaning. Anyway, this is Darj," one of the goblins poked its head around the seat, "And this-,"

The other goblin looked at Harry over the seat back and squealed "Chaft!" in a high-pitched voice.

"This is Chaft," he continued, "And this is our boss," finished Trigg, indicating the unconscious form of the man Harry had seen earlier. His face was still hidden.

"Now that you know us, we feel obliged to inform you, Mr. Potter, that you need fear no bodily harm from us as long as you are in our care, unless you refuse to co-operate with us or speak when not spoken to. Now that that´s taken care of, Chaft will put you out again. We ask that you please bear with us." Trigg giggled.

Chaft leaned over the back of the seat with a strong-smelling rag, and though Harry struggled, he was soon unconscious once more.

Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, Head of Parliament House, etc. was asleep at his desk, the lights dimmed. He had sent his aides home for the night, as he had some work to catch up on. His head was resting on a speech he had been memorizing for an appearance the next day. Moonlight trickled in through an open window. A light tap on the shoulder roused the Minister. Someone was behind him; Fudge blinked sleepily as he turned.

"Cornelius. It´s nice to see you working so hard on your office´s obvious shortcomings," said the person, pulling a mask off of their face. The Minister´s eyes shot open, and he choked.

"Snape!" he stuttered through his coughs. "What are you doing here?"

"Dumbledore has relieved me of my `duties´ for a time," said Snape softly. "I was sent here to tell you of some very important news. Apparently, Harry Potter has been kidnapped from the house at Number 4, Privet Drive, despite our wards. Mundungus Fletcher, our man in that area, had his memory partially wiped. He is at Hogwarts right now, and we are trying to resuscitate his memory."

"Potter´s kidnapped? But how? Our strongest wards were protecting that house, and we would have detected any magic done on the premises!" shouted Fudge.

"Please calm yourself, Minister," said Snape. "I would not want to be found here dressed like this." He held up his Death Eater mask. "We believe Potter was lured out of the house somehow, not understanding how the wards worked. That was when he was abducted. We do not know where he is, but we suggest you the Muggle government to help in the search. It may be that his kidnappers are not wizards, as we detected no magic except for a stunning spell. Our analysis shows our agent, Fletcher, performed it. Dumbledore left for Privet Drive as soon as we heard the news, but he said he would be in contact with you personally as soon as possible."

"Do we have any other leads?" asked Fudge. He looked a little overwhelmed.

"Yes. We discovered a goblin at the scene. He appeared to have been involved in quite a struggle, but you know how hard it is to kill a goblin. We have him in confinement at Hogwarts, but so far we´ve not been able to make him talk. Goblins are resistant to magic, as you know, and if he doesn´t want to talk, there isn´t much we can do about it."

Fudge rubbed his temples, as he considered all that he had been told. "Perhaps one of the members of the Goblin Liaison Office could be of assistance. Goblins are eccentric little buggers, and you could use someone with experience in the field. He may be able to convince it to," Fudge gave an enormous yawn, "To talk. I should speak to some people before the Prophet puts this out; it´ll take some work to calm people down. This is the last thing we needed right now, I´ll tell you. I probably won´t be getting much sleep for a while."

"Rest assured, Minister, there will be many more sleepless nights ahead for all of us in the next while," said Snape, and he left the room with his long robes trailing behind him.

Albus Dumbledore was sitting on a purple beanbag chair in the deepest, darkest dungeon of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry with a mug of hot cocoa on the floor beside him. His glasses sat far down on his long nose as he stared into the narrow glassy eyes of his opponent.

"Bah! These `sweets´, as you call them, would tarnish silver!" spat the Goblin dismissively. The Sherbet Lemon he threw stuck to Dumbledore´s sleeve. "If you expect to get me to talk by feeding me, you´ll be sorely disappointed."

Dumbledore sighed, picked up his cocoa and left the room. As he passed a side corridor on his way out of the dungeons, he nearly tripped over the tiny form of Professor Flitwick.

"Any luck, Albus?" he asked excitedly.

"I´m afraid not, Filius. It´s no use. I even gave him sherbet lemons, my own private stock. He still won´t talk." Dumbledore picked the sugary candy off his sleeve and put it in his mouth.

"Albus, that´s disgusting. The Goblin had that in its mouth, didn´t it?" said Professor McGonagall, emerging from a washroom just down the hall. Dumbledore tried to look innocent, staring up at the ceiling, but he choked on his candy and began coughing softly. McGonagall and Flitwick laughed at him as he cleared his throat.

"Minerva, I was just telling Professor Flitwick here that the Goblin still won´t say anything, even when I give him candy."

"Stop being ridiculous, Albus, you know Goblins are allergic to sugar. I was coming down here to tell you that I´ve just spoken to Minister Fudge. Severus has told him about Harry, and he´s sending a specialist in Goblin relations to help us get some information about our friend; name´s Mockridge. He should be here any time; he lives just a few hours out of Hogsmeade. I think we should have someone at the gates to meet him," she said with a meaningful stare.

"Alright, we´ll play rock, parchment, knife then," said Dumbledore. "Three way." They took out their wands, sending tiny images of their choice out to do battle. Dumbledore lost. "Best two of three," he said, frowning.

"Just go, Albus. You choose rock every time, and it´s not even funny any more."

Cuthbert Mockridge arrived at the gates of Hogwarts early in the morning and was startled by the appearance of Albus Dumbledore out of the shadows, wearing a fluffy pink bathrobe and bunny slippers. He seemed quite sleepy.

"Headmaster Dumbledore! It´s been a long time since I´ve been at Hogwarts, I didn´t expect you to come meet me at this hour. I figured we´d start tomorrow. My name´s Bert Mockridge, I´m head of the Goblin Liaison Office." Mockridge took a tiny coffee thermos out of his robes, tapped it with his wand to make it grow, and took a sip.

"Ah, Mockridge. I remember you. Class of ´49, isn´t it? Did the Minister tell you our situation here?" asked Dumbledore.

"No, he just told me to get here as soon as possible, and that you have a recalcitrant Goblin. He seemed to want to use that word, recalcitrant."

"Well, here´s where we´re at," said Dumbledore. "Harry Potter has been abducted from his home, we don´t know by whom, but our man on the scene, Mundungus Fletcher, managed to knock out a Goblin before its accomplices could escape."

Mockridge thought for a moment. "What have you tried with the Goblin so far? And has Fletcher told you anything that could be useful?"

"Why don´t we go inside, Bert?" said Dumbledore, shivering. "I´ll tell you all about it on the way down."

"So far, we´ve given the Goblin a dose of Veritaserum, which didn´t have much affect. We´ve tried various truth spells and such, but he shook them off too quickly for us to get anything. I tried giving him candy, but no to that as well." Dumbledore was eating a package of jujubes as he and Wimple walked to the dungeons.

"None of the things you´ve tried would affect a Goblin much. They resist magic, as you know, and I´m surprised your friend even managed to stun one. Veritaserum ingredients aren´t selected for effectiveness against Goblins, there´s no recipe I know of that would work well at all. And they are, as a rule, allergic to sugar. If you let me have a go at him, I´m sure I´ll be able to elicit something. It´s too bad Fletcher´s lost his memory, I´d like to know how he managed to disable a Goblin." Mockridge was highly excited at the opportunity to interrogate a Goblin.

The Goblin was sitting sullenly in its cell with its arms crossed when Mockridge arrived.

"I´m Cuthbert Mockridge, head of the Goblin Liaison Office. I have been told you may have been party to a very serious abduction case earlier tonight. If you do not tell me what you want to know, I can have you imprisoned, stripped of your papers, or deported. Now, what is your name?"

"Pric," answered the Goblin with a sneer.

"Yes, I´m sure you are," replied Mockridge, unable to keep from smirking.

"Why were you in Privet Drive at midnight?"

"We were hired by a wizard to steal another wizard. Probably it has something to do with politics."

"Who do you mean by `we´, and who exactly hired you?" asked Mockridge.

"I don´t give up my team´s identities, human. Sorry," hissed Pric.

"Fine. I am afraid I have no other choice. You will relinquish your papers and live out your live in a centaur reserve," said Mockridge. Pric´s eyes shot open in terror.

"No! You can´t send me to live with centaurs! They´re crazy, stars this and star that, always telling you what´s going to happen! They´ll drive me insane!"

"Just answer my questions, and you´ll be back on the outside in no time," said Mockridge.

"There are four of us. Me, Chaft, and Darj do the work. Trigg sets up deals for us. We may not be cheap," said Pric proudly, "But we´re the best choice for smuggling, kidnapping, and- damn, I´ve lost my pamphlet." Mockridge almost burst out laughing, but managed to contain himself.

"Yes, and who hired you?" he asked.

"We don´t know his name, but he seemed a bit desperate for cash. He had a bodyguard named Horace. We ended up having to order him around, neither of them seemed too bright."

"Describe the man who hired you." Pric looked thoughtful for a moment.

"He was regular human age," he began.

"You mean middle aged?" asked Mockridge.

"Yeah, that. Anyway, he wasn´t too tall, and he seemed fairly nervous. He´d a large midsection, and his face was always red. And it looked like he´d been in some fights. He always wore fairly old black robes with gold stitching"

"How much was he paying you?"

"He said he couldn´t give us more than 150 Galleons in advance, so we upped him to 500 Galleons, to be paid when the job was finished." Pric seemed satisfied with the amount.

"That´s a lot of money. How could you be sure he would pay you?" asked Mockridge.

"Trigg figured it was worth the risk. No-one´s stupid enough to screw Goblins over anyway."

"When did this man approach you?"

"About two weeks ago. He said he´d like to hire us for a kidnapping, and we named our fee. He went a bit pale, and asked if we would meet him again in a week. When we met him again, he had 150 Galleons to pay in advance, and that was it. If the job doesn´t go off right, we don´t demand payment, mind, so he was well off there at least. We figured he would try to ransom the kid. Apparently he´s some sort of wizard celebrity."

"Would you be able to work with a sketch artist on this, to get an idea of what this man looked like?" asked Mockridge.

"I guess so," answered Pric. "I´m not answering any more questions. Get out of here."

"Sure thing. You´ve been very helpful. The sketch artist will be in to see you in the morning."

"And his nose was broken, too." The sketch artist waved her quill over the parchment and said "Infractus Odorus." Ink lines traced across the parchment, completing the picture. Professor McGonagall stared in shock.

"Albus, that´s Ludo Bagman!" she exclaimed.

"But why would Bagman kidnap Harry, at a time like this?" mused Dumbledore. "It can´t just be because he needs the money. There´s got to be something more to it. Even Bagman´s not foolish enough to remove Harry from our protection with Voldemort at large. I´m afraid I don´t understand Ludo´s motives here."

"Perhaps he´s been placed under the Imperius Curse," suggested Professor McGonagall. "Or maybe the Death Eaters bought him off!"

Dumbledore thought for a moment.

"Almost anything is possible at this point. We just don´t have enough information to go about making assumptions. We´ll simply have to track down Ludo and get Harry back before Voldemort can get his claws on him. We do have an advantage here, I think. Unless Ludo is working for the Death Eaters, we have a leap on them due to our little Goblin friend."

"We should start immediately, then!" said McGonagall.

"I agree," replied Dumbledore. "But before we do anything, I must contact Severus."

Severus Snape reclined uncomfortably against the base of a stone angel. He shifted his weight off of his numb shoulder, and read the inscription again: Timothy Davies, 1812-1865. His contact should have been here by now; the sun was already too high in the sky for his liking. He´d give the man five more minutes, and then he was leaving. It wouldn´t do to be seen hanging around a cemetery cloaked and hooded; the Muggles already thought vampires lived here. Severus yawned and prepared to leave when he saw a woman wearing several layers of clothing to ward off the morning chill come down the path next to him. She was carrying a bouquet of roses, and didn´t seem to have seen him. He moved into the shadow on the west side of the grave to avoid notice, but the woman must have seen him move, because she turned off the path and approached him. Kneeling in front of the stone angel, she deposited her bouquet.

"Severus, is that you?" she asked softly. Snape looked around the side of the grave carefully.

"Where is Roberto? I had agreed to meet with him. Who are you?"

"Roberto couldn´t make it. I was sent here as soon as possible. Call me Lucy. Do you have your report?" Snape removed a thick envelope from his cloak and handed it to her.

"Take this to Dumbledore posthaste," he said quietly as she put it away. "Do you have any instructions for me?" Lucy reached into her cloak and took out her wand.

"Actually, Severus, I do have some instructions for you. Lord Voldemort has ordered you to die, as soon as can be arranged. Avada-"

"I´ll take that, my dear," said a calm voice behind her. Albus Dumbledore now held the wand she had been pointing at Severus. "You shouldn´t be trying to perform spells like that, you know." He smiled grimly and said "Stupefy." Lucy slumped to the ground. Dumbledore pulled up the left sleeve of her shirt and ran his fingers over it, revealing the Dark Mark. "It would seem we can no longer count on Roberto´s services, Severus. I don´t suppose you´ll want to spend too much time with me in the open, so let´s exchange envelopes and part." Dumbledore handed a small package to Snape.

"My report is in her back pocket. It contains information on a raid the Death Eaters are planning in Bath. Look into that carefully. Goodbye, Albus."

"Goodbye, Severus, and good luck." Snape Disapparated. Dumbledore found the envelope, and emptied the Death Eater´s pockets. He took out his wand and muttered "Obliviate." He snapped the Death Eater´s wand in half, slipped half of it into each of her hands and propped her up against the grave before Disapparating.

"My God, Mum! Look at this!" George Weasley was holding the Daily Prophet, on which was written the headline "Harry Potter Kidnapped from Relatives´ Care!"

"Oh, dear," said Molly Weasley. Her face seemed to be on the verge of cracking. "How could this happen? Maybe he just ran away from that awful Aunt and Uncle of his."

"No, it says here that the Ministry captured a Goblin at the scene. Here, read it." George´s brow was furrowed and he looked more and more worried as he read.

"You read it to me George, I don´t think I could bear it," said Molly.

"Alright, it starts with a bunch of stuff we already know about Harry and the wards on the house that activate when he´s there...wait, here it says `Magical Law Enforcement Service Officers arrived on the scene after sensors detected a stunning spell outside the house. Though Potter was already gone, found at the scene was an unconscious Goblin, alongside the Ministry Agent who had been keeping the house under surveillance. The agent, who cannot be named for security reasons, was subjected to a memory charm and is currently being resuscitated at Hogwarts. The Goblin, identified only as Pric, is also at Hogwarts, and is undergoing questioning.´ Then there´s a bunch of stuff about Goblins, and crime syndicates. And it says the kidnappers fled in a Muggle car. That´s about it." Molly was sniffling when Ginny came down the stairs.

"What´s going on? Why are you crying, Mum?" she asked. Molly tried to say something but burst out sobbing.

"Harry´s been kidnapped, they don´t know by who," said George. "Go wake Fred and Ron up. This is a family crisis. We´ve got to get him back before the start of term."

Harry stared at Ludo Bagman, trying as hard as he could not to laugh. Though he knew his situation was no laughing matter, he couldn´t suppress a chuckle when he thought back on the events of the last day and a half, and why Bagman was hanging by his ankles from the rafters of the abandoned warehouse where the Goblins were keeping them both.

It had happened when Bagman woke up from the stunning spell Harry assumed had been thrown by Mundungus Fletcher. Horace had roused Bagman roughly, and Bagman had whispered to him for a few minutes when the Goblins came back into the room. Bagman had shouted "Now!" and tried to stun the head Goblin. The Goblin had shaken it off and leapt onto Bagman´s face. In his attempts to wrestle the Goblin off of Bagman´s face, Horace had succeeded in knocking Bagman out once more. The Goblins had tied Horace in a whole lot of rope and taken him outside "To dispose of," as Trigg had said. Bagman had been strung up so that his face was on a level with Harry´s, only upside down. His face was red both from writhing about and all the blood rushing to his head. Although both he and Harry were gagged, both could often be heard making noises: muffled cursing from Bagman and stifled laughter from Harry.

The three Goblins entered the room again, apparently having decided what to do with them.

"We´re ransoming you both to the highest bidder," announced Trigg pleasantly. He stood on his tiptoes to tweak Bagman´s nose. "There´s got to be a zoo somewhere that would want this idiot back. Really, everyone knows you don´t mess with Goblins." He turned to Harry, grinning wide enough to show all his teeth. "As for you, one of my contacts has brought me the first bid on you already- 130,000 Galleons. I´ll be able to buy Luxembourg when this is through!"

Harry was fairly sure he knew who would pay that much for him. It was not a reassuring thought.