Harry Potter and the Amulet of the Moon

semprini

Story Summary:
Sequel to Harry Potter and the Antiquity Link. Following the recent disaster suffered by the Aurors, new Auror Leader Harry Potter recruits fifteen trusted members of Dumbledore's Army to become the backbone of the Aurors. To prepare quickly to defend an Auror-less society, they go to an uninhabited island and go back in time a year, planning to train uneventfully, isolated from the rest of the world, and the timeline. But they're pulled back into the whirl of wizarding events in a way they never would have expected.

Chapter 16 - Three For Six

Chapter Summary:
Harry's first successful operation as Auror Leader provokes a brutal response from Voldemort.
Posted:
10/20/2009
Hits:
470


Chapter 16

Three For Six

He went to Auror Headquarters, having already told the Aurors he wanted to meet everyone after the speech; he spend thirty minutes going over plans and giving assignments, including patrols of Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade, and the advisories to citizens that he'd mentioned in his speech. He wanted to spend more time with them, but Kingsley discreetly reminded him when it was ten minutes until the switch, and he returned to the cave.

In the meeting room, Malfoy approached him, hand outstretched. "Good speech, Potter."

Harry tried not to react with surprise as he shook the proffered hand. "Thanks, Malfoy. You watched from that room we were in?" Answered with a nod, Harry continued, "Good. I assume you know you want to be careful about walking around in public, since you're still a high-level target."

"You're not my mother, Potter," Malfoy replied, with exaggerated disdain.

"Ah," Harry said humorously, "so your mother said the same thing?" Malfoy answered with an annoyed look that told Harry he was right. With a grin, he headed to the area where he slept; Ron and Hermione were waiting for him.

"Seven minutes to spare," said Hermione disapprovingly, with a glance at her watch.

"Plenty of time," he joked. Her expression didn't change. "Kingsley was there, he was making sure," he added.

"One of these days, you're going to be talking to someone, and you're just going to collapse," she admonished him. "Not to mention, you'll suddenly look substantially younger."

"Not substantially," he quibbled.

Ron looked at him sympathetically. "I think what you want to say here, mate, is 'you're right, I'll be more careful next time.'"

Harry nodded. "You're right, Ron. I'll be more careful next time."

"You mean, you'll be careful to say that to her."

"Yes, exactly."

Hermione sighed. "Why do I even bother," she wondered rhetorically.

Ron put an arm around her. "Because you can't help it," he said genially. "And I wouldn't have you any other way."

"Liar."

Harry chuckled. "So, what have you two been up to since the speech?"

Ron answered. "We wandered around the crowd as it was breaking up. Oh, did you hear that Thicknesse showed up, less than half a minute after you left?"

"No, I didn't. What happened?"

"I think he didn't expect you to Disapparate like you did. I saw him, and he looked surprised. He was heading over to where you were when you did that. I'd guess he was planning to ask you back up to the podium, since the crowd was still applauding after you left. I guess he'd determined to his satisfaction that it was safe to be seen with you."

Harry scoffed. "What a chicken. He saw how the crowd reacted, he could have joined me before the end. If he needs to see how they react at the end before he'll do anything, then screw him. He needs me a lot more than I need him."

"In what way?" asked Hermione.

Malfoy spoke; only now did Harry notice that he'd been near the room, listening. "The Aurors protecting him could suddenly be called away on urgent business."

Hermione's indignant gasp of "Malfoy!" came at exactly the same instant as Ron's "Good point." She looked at him accusingly.

"I thought of that, actually," agreed Harry. To her glare, he responded, "Not that I'd do it lightly. But if he tries to screw me, then sure, I'd consider it. Kingsley's told me that's hardly a new idea, and is part of the reason why the Minister doesn't mess with the Aurors."

She sighed. "I think you're becoming ethically compromised."

Malfoy sounded defensive. "Just because he doesn't agree with you--"

"Wait, wait, wait," he cut Malfoy off. He looked at her carefully. "Are you serious?"

Unhappily, she looked down. "Okay, maybe that's too strong," she admitted. "I just don't like it."

"Granger, he's Auror Leader. He has to become fluent in the language of power, or else he's no good to anyone. The ability to intimidate is an important part of that. He's not talking about killing anyone; the Minister isn't going to drop dead because he's left alone for a few hours. That would be about making a point. Potter simply has to let it be known that he's not to be messed with, or else he's not going to command respect. He listens to you, so the sooner you get that, the better."

She stared at him coldly, but Harry saw flashes of uncertainty in her eyes. It was clear that there were parts, at least, of Malfoy's argument that she felt she couldn't disagree with. "I don't think it's that bad, Malfoy. It's not like I follow everything she says, like a mindless zombie," said Harry, tweaking Malfoy for his earlier description of him and Ron. "It'll do me good to have her making that kind of argument. I'll be able to hear the other side of it pretty easily from Kingsley, or your counterpart, once we get back."

Malfoy looked curious. "Do you and I talk, on the other side?"

Harry nodded. "A little. We haven't spent as much time together as you and I have, of course, but he and I understand each other. Ethically, you're further along than him, because you did the right thing. He probably would have, but took too long, so he doesn't have the confidence of knowing he did the right thing."

Malfoy grunted. "He also didn't have to suffer the consequences of my actions."

It occurred to Harry that this was the strongest indication from Malfoy of the weight that his parents' incarceration had been on him. "True, but he and his family did suffer sometimes during that year, because in Voldemort's eyes, both he and his father had failed. It's less bad than Azkaban--"

"Lie down, Harry, it's almost time," Hermione instructed him.

He continued talking as he did so. "So while he didn't do the right thing, he also didn't do the wrong thing. If he'd killed Dumbledore, he'd probably be redeemed in Voldemort's eyes, and maybe his father too. So, his situation is kind of in between. Now, he's more like Zabini, not jumping into any camp. You just didn't have that luxury."

"Well, that's what Slytherins do, keep their options open," said Malfoy. "Remember, Granger, that's why he's got to use his muscle sometimes, like he did with the Minister this morning. Slytherins can smell someone who's irresolute a mile away

Harry's view was suddenly that of the ceiling of his tent; he was back, and Ron and Hermione were on the sofa. As Harry stood, Hermione rolled her eyes. "It'll be nice not to have to listen to him for a while, anyway. I really don't want to know what Slytherins can and can't smell."

Harry decided to refrain from pointing out that Malfoy had a point. "I can understand that. C'mon, let's go talk to the others."

* * * * *

They would have only nine hours on the island, and that number would of course steadily decrease over the following weeks. Six hours of that time went to sleep; the rest, talking to the others, especially Kingsley, and planning. Harry wished that the island time was during the middle of the night; he wanted to be on the other side during the day, where he could walk the streets and be seen. It wouldn't be difficult to persuade others, even Aurors, that he was conducting secret operations during the times he was back on the island, but he preferred not to have to deceive them. He asked Terry to compile a schedule for the next two weeks, and was pleased to discover that starting next week, most of the time on the other side would be during the day, a situation that wouldn't change until the island times became so small that they weren't consequential.

Which brought up another problem: it was easy to lose track of in the whirl of events, but there was still no solution to the problem of how they were going to stop the switching. What if no answer could be found? It wouldn't be so bad for Harry and his friends; they could settle in this dimension without great difficulty. George would even have Fred back. But their counterparts would return to an Auror-less country that expected Harry Potter to be Auror Leader. Currently, that Harry Potter couldn't even attain consciousness without great pain, and no solution had as yet presented itself. But it was hard to imagine what could change the road they were on.

Even so, if one set that aside, things were looking much better. He would have control of forty Aurors, and he would have most of society on his side. People would be on the lookout for Dark wizards, and Harry had already personally taken out at least ten Death Eaters. Defeating Voldemort would of course not be easy, but things definitely looked better than they had a month ago.

After the switch, Harry spent most of the night checking on things he'd been too busy to think about the last time. He visited with the Weasleys, who were still working with the Muggle-born political prisoners, who would gradually be moved to the wizarding world with recommendations on getting psychological care to deal with the long-term effects of exposure to dementors.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, and four DA members who were good on brooms took the Portkey to Azkaban, then spent an hour flying over the sea around the island to look for dementors. They found ten on the island when they arrived, and were able to kill them all; even four who tried to escape were killed over the sea. Harry decided to check every night for the next few days, to make sure the dementors didn't return.

Another predawn operation was to secure Malfoy Manor. Harry had actually hoped that some Dark wizards might try to hold onto it, as by taking them out, he would reduce Voldemort's numbers. But to his surprise and mild disappointment, the house was abandoned. Suspecting magical traps left behind, he went over the house thoroughly, taking over an hour to scan for anything with a magical trace. But except for previously existing magic, he found nothing.

On his arrival at the cave, he'd found over fifty letters that had arrived by owl since his speech, and a dozen more came during the night. He checked them all for magic, but none had any surprises. Reading them, he found most of them to be complimentary, but a dozen expressed concern about the casualties he had warned would be coming.

In the morning, he spent three hours walking around Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade. He talked to people, tried to reassure them, and asked them to report to Aurors anything they saw that seemed suspicious. He talked to Aurors, getting updates on the social and political situation, and advice about what measures should be taken. To his distaste, he also had to talk to the Minister, to request the appointment of a new Head of the Auror Office, as the previous one had been appointed by those under Dark influence. Following Blackstone's advice, he couched it as a 'suggestion' so that Thicknesse would not think that Harry owed him a favor; it was more, Harry explained, that a Head in whom Harry had confidence would be better able to convey the Ministry's 'requests'. The clear implication was that if the current Head remained, he would be ignored. Harry gave Thicknesse a list of five names, any of whom would be acceptable.

He went to Hogwarts and talked to McGonagall, who told him that there was no small amount of uncertainty there. While Harry had essentially removed Snape as headmaster, he had been silent on who was to succeed him, and had taken that authority away from the governors. He suggested that it be decided on the basis of a majority vote of the professors, which while he did not say so explicitly, he and she both knew she would win. He was surprised to hear that most students had already returned to the school. He met with a few of his allies among the seventh-year students, and urged them to keep the Room of Requirement open, 'just in case,' as well as to provide a quick way to leave the school if necessary. Neville decided to leave Hogwarts, while Dean returned; it would be understood by all at Hogwarts that Seamus and Dean would be Harry's eyes and ears at Hogwarts.

Finally, Harry, Ron, and Hermione moved back into Grimmauld Place, aided by one of the many Secret-Keepers there now were for the old house. Harry asked Luna to stay there, but she decided that she should stay with her father. They returned to their home, which was now protected by a Fidelius Charm. It was no longer necessary to use the cave, but it would stay connected to the Room of Requirement by Portkey.

By the time the fifteen and a half hours of this switch was finished, Harry was comfortable that things were going roughly as they should. Society couldn't turn on a dime, but for one day, what had happened so far wasn't too bad.

* * * * *

Saturday, December 24th was a snowy day, raising the prospect of a white Christmas, which seemed to add to the holiday cheer. Harry and Melanie Frommant walked down the main street together in their Auror robes, looking around occasionally at the decorations and happy shoppers. Harry wasn't approached very often, not nearly as much as on his first few patrols as Auror Leader. People were getting used to having him around, which was definitely a good thing.

"Bought all your Christmas presents?" she asked teasingly.

He grinned. "I wasn't thinking about that so much when I was on the run, and now, I don't really want to go shopping. Wouldn't be hard, though, since everyone wants to give me something for free."

"I wouldn't mind having that problem," she joked.

He looked at her quizzically. "Nobody ever tried to give you stuff?"

She shrugged, with a quick glance showing she was surprised he'd taken what she'd said seriously. "Occasionally, small things, but most people know that you shouldn't give an Auror expensive things. Although once, a few months ago, a man at the Ministry tried to give me what was obviously an expensive necklace. I turned it down, which didn't seem to surprise him too much. Any other time, I would have thought it was a character test."

"I thought they didn't do character tests once you made Auror."

"They don't," she agreed. "I just mean that that's very much like the tests they do for trainees. This would be a bit simplistic, of course. When I did them, they were more clever about it."

"I was thinking about bringing back the character tests, even for veteran Aurors," he remarked, curious what her reaction would be.

She raised an eyebrow slightly. "Well, you shouldn't go around telling people, then, should you," she said wryly. "Not a bad idea, given what we've recently been through. I wasn't the only one offered something like that, and it wouldn't shock me if someone took it. The funny thing is, only an Auror Leader could do the tests on veterans. We'd scream bloody murder if the Ministry tried to make us do that, but a Leader has such moral credibility that there'd barely be a peep of protest. Especially you."

"Why especially me?"

"Because you're the Boy Who Lived. I haven't viewed your Auror Leader test memory yet, but a few people have, and talked about it," she said sympathetically. "It's well known by now that the test gave you back your parents, only to take them away from you again. That must have been... exquisitely painful."

Harry tried to mask his emotions, and was sure that he wasn't entirely succeeding. "It wasn't fun."

"I see the Leader is given to enormous understatement," she observed. "I was surprised when I found out we had a right to view it--I mean, it's hugely personal--but it does make sense. The Auror I talked to, who saw it, she said, 'If he tells me to take a stroll in quicksand, I'm doing it.'"

"Well, let's hope that doesn't become necessary," he said. "So, what are you getting Paul for Christmas?"

She gave him a sad half-smile; in other circumstances, she no doubt would have teased him about his clumsy and overt attempt to change the subject, but at the same time, she obviously understood his wishes. "How do you know--oh, yes, the test. I forgot you got to know me a bit in there. What did we talk about in there, by the way?"

"Not much. You told me about Paul, and gave me some girlfriend advice. And you defended me when Hedghorn was giving me a hard time about some extremely complimentary articles Rita Skeeter was writing about me."

She grunted and rolled her eyes. "That test is real, all right. Both about him, and Skeeter. You going to give her that interview?"

A few days ago, he'd received the request by owl; he was putting off replying, but he knew she would only wait for so long. "I didn't know that was common knowledge."

"She's talked to a few of us, and mentioned that she'd asked you."

"I assume you told her I'm a tiny bit busy?"

She grunted. "Like that would stop her. She's the type that would ask a wizard who was losing a duel how he felt about the fact that his life would be over in a matter of seconds." They walked on for a few seconds in silence, then she gestured to a nearby shop. "You want to go into Zonko's?"

Deadpan, he shook his head. "Nah, they never have anything good."

She grinned. "I'd heard you didn't have much of a sense of humor."

"I'm trying to do better about that. No, I know you meant on business, but it doesn't seem like the kind of place Dark wizards would loiter." He paused. "Is it?"

"Probably not," she agreed. "Just a thought. How about the owl office?"

He nodded. "Sure."

A young couple gave them a nod in greeting as they passed at the entrance. "They probably think we're a mother and her son shopping," she joked.

"You don't have any kids, do you?" he asked as they entered the shop. A dozen people were looking at catalogs; more were looking at information posted on the walls. They kept their voices down so as not to attract any more attention than their robes already did.

"No, we don't."

"How old are you?"

Bemused, she raised an eyebrow. "Nobody ever told you you shouldn't ask a woman her age?"

He shrugged, surprised that she would object. "I am Auror Leader," he pointed out.

"And on behalf of middle-aged female Aurors, while we're willing to die on your command, telling you our age is another matter entirely."

He wasn't sure to what extent she was joking. "You aren't really middle-aged, are you?"

She sighed lightly, as if surrendering. "Depends on how you define it. I'm 39." His eyebrows went high in surprise, but he made no comment. She smiled. "Thank you, Harry. That expression was a very nice compliment."

Uncertain how to respond, he just shrugged. "I just don't see what the big deal is about age."

She smiled again, this time in what seemed to him a motherly way. "It'll be interesting to have such a young Leader," she remarked as the headed toward the room containing the owls. "A very good wizard, but still a lot to learn about life."

"It always smells like a pet shop in here," he commented.

"A hundred owls'll do that."

She opened the door to the larger room. As he walked through, he saw about ten people, some waiting in line to see the staff, others standing at stations equipped with forms and writing implements. Like a Muggle post office, he thought.

Suddenly, he registered something odd: at one of the stations for forms, there appeared to be a young couple, perhaps in their late twenties. But their form and appearance fluctuated. One minute they were that couple, but the next, they were two taller men wearing dark robes, the type Harry associated with Dark wizards. He thought he recognized one, but he wasn't sure. Fortunately, they weren't looking in his direction. Their appearance to Harry continued to shift between the two versions he'd seen.

He stopped and whispered to Mel as casually as he could manage. "That couple, pink blouse, green shirt. Anything strange about them?"

She looked in another direction, pretending to survey the owls. "No, why?"

Again making an effort to appear casual, he turned back toward the door and left the room, knowing she would follow. They stood near the door. "Slide," he instructed, using the shorthand for the spell that would cause onlookers' glances to 'slide' off them, to pay them no particular attention unless one was making an active effort. They both cast the spell on themselves. She looked at him expectantly.

He described what he had seen. "I think I've just found another Auror Leader power," he speculated. "The ability to see through Polyjuice Potion."

"Who are they?"

"I'm not sure. I think one of them is Crabbe, the Death Eater. He was there the night Voldemort came back, but I didn't get an extremely good look, because of the hoods. If it's him, the other is Goyle."

She nodded. "Custody, or TT?"

Even though putting a Temporary Trace on them would be difficult, Harry didn't hesitate. "TT. Watch the door, I'll be right back."

He briskly headed for the restroom. Fortunately, it was unoccupied. He locked the door behind him and Disapparated to the bedroom at Grimmauld Place, threw his Auror robe on the bed, Summoned a Muggle cap, then reappeared in the restroom. He opened the door and walked out to meet Mel again.

"Not much of a disguise," she observed. "You're still Harry Potter."

He tilted his head down. "Yeah, but the robe is kind of a giveaway. I'll keep my head down or away from them. We were lucky they weren't looking last time. I'll do my best to be casual."

He walked back into the room, the Slide spell still on. He didn't look in the direction of his quarry, but became quite interested in something on the wall behind where they stood. Wand up his sleeve as far as possible while still using it, he shot the TT at one, then the other, relying on peripheral vision for his aim. Satisfied that he'd done it--there was a soft blue glow around both of them that he was sure only he could see--he left the room as inconspicuously as he'd entered it.

It only took him a few steps to reach her. "Lose the robe, and get backup. Two people out here, no robes. Everyone on duty should be ready for a raid. If we get that lucky," he added. She nodded and Disapparated.

A Temporary Trace only lasted three minutes at the most, and if the two didn't leave within that time, the spell would have to be updated. It was tricky to get close enough to do a spell on someone without their knowing once; doing it repeatedly took great skill and/or luck. Or, thought Harry, someone who can see spells, and so who can hit from a greater distance and be sure whether he's hit the target or not.

She was back in almost exactly a minute. "Done," she said, in her best professional manner. "Robert and Margaret are outside the building."

"Good." Harry positioned himself near a wall, looking at a catalog which rested on the counter against the wall; forms and pens were plentiful. From his position, he could glance through the door when it opened and closed, which it did with some regularity as people moved from one room to the other. "Isn't it kind of late to be doing Christmas ordering anyway?" he wondered absently, trying not to look at the door too often.

She was standing on his left, looking at the same catalog. "For some items, they'll do a 12-hour rush. Fifty percent extra." At his surprised glance, she shrugged. "A lot of people put things off till the last minute."

A minute later, he glanced at his watch. "Damn. Two and a half minutes. I have to do it again."

"If you can't, be sure to put up a field," she advised. He was about to ask when he realized she meant an anti-Disapparation field. He nodded as he walked through the door.

Fortunately, the two Death Eaters were now at the service window being helped, their backs to him, so this was much easier. He found an excuse to walk behind them, shot the spells, saw the blue glow, and returned to the outer room. It wouldn't be long now, he was sure.

A minute later, the two left, walking through the outer room and exiting the building. Harry and Mel left ten seconds later, wanting to avoid being on their heels, and knowing the other two Aurors would pick them up.

The two were walking down the street; nearby, he could see Spencer and Mulligan loitering unobtrusively. "I'm getting my Cloak," he said to Mel quietly. "I'll be right back."

Fifteen seconds later, he was back; Spencer and Mulligan were now with Mel. "They Disapparated," said Spencer. "A few seconds before you got back."

"Let's go," said Harry. All three Apparated to the magic detection center, which Kingsley was currently manning. "On the map," he said. Harry looked up at the wall; it provided the location of the person with the TT, represented by three maps: one of England, one of the city or village, and one of the one-block area around the subject. The third map indicated that the subjects were not in a building, which Harry and the others had expected might be the case. It was a standard precaution to Apparate a few times in case one was being followed, and Voldemort would likely insist that his followers take all precautions.

"You three, come in thirty meters away, out of sight. I'm going in under the Cloak, ten meters, low power." On the island, Kingsley had taught Harry and the others how to Apparate at low power; it made the Apparition sound much softer, but it increased the chance of Splinching. He didn't like it, but he knew he didn't have much time; they would likely wait for no more than thirty seconds before moving on to wherever they would go next. Whether that would be another intermediate stop, or the final one, they could not yet know. He threw the Cloak over himself as the others departed.

Concentrating on summoning the right intensity, he Disapparated. He was in fact about ten meters away, and the two showed no signs of having heard anything. The blue glows surrounding them were present, but fading. Relieved, he shot off another two TTs, his hand sticking out from the bottom of the Cloak. Seeing the glow become stronger again, he walked away as briskly as he could under the Cloak. About ten seconds later, the two Disapparated again.

Back at headquarters, the map changed to a new location. "This time, they're inside," reported Kingsley. "A fairly small house; they appear to be in the living room. Outskirts of Hogsmeade."

Harry looked at Kingsley. "This is the one, right?" The tone made it more a statement than a question.

"That'd be my guess, yes," agreed Kingsley.

Harry moved his eyes up to get Luna's view. "Get Ron and Hermione," he instructed her. "Tell them to Apparate to the detection room."

She acknowledged his request, and in a very short time, both were standing near him. "This building," he said, pointing at the map. "This wall, here."

Kingsley raised his eyebrows. "We're not going in through the door?"

"What if the place is under the Fidelius Charm?" asked Ron.

Harry knew that the TT while in effect canceled the Fidelius Charm, but didn't want to waste the few seconds it would take to explain this to Ron. "I don't want to take a chance they have Portkeys set up," he explained. "Get ten people out there, lay down App fields," he instructed, using the shorthand for an anti-Disapparation field. "We'll take down that wall, then we go through."

Harry put an arm around Ron and Hermione's shoulders, and Apparated them both to where he wanted to go. Behind them, Aurors Apparated in, and Harry could see the fields go up. He nodded to his friends. "Now."

"Reducto," they chorused, and fired as one. The spells came together, and the impact on the wall was as instantaneous as it was dramatic. The wall blew apart, and the Aurors behind Harry and the others immediately began firing. Two inhabitants were on the floor, apparently injured. A few people fired back, but they were overcome by greater numbers. No more than twenty seconds after the blast, all six inhabitants were unconscious or injured. The Aurors moved in to secure the building.

Kingsley, who had been inside, walked up to Harry, who was heading in. "Four of them are known Death Eaters, in addition to the two still under Polyjuice Potion." He gestured to the man and woman on the ground, one with blood on his arm from the explosion.

Harry walked closer and looked down. "It's Crabbe and Goyle," he said, now confident. To a surprised Ron, he added, "Their fathers, I mean."

Ron smiled. "Great."

Harry nodded to both of his friends. "Thanks for the help."

"Any time," said Hermione, and they both Disapparated.

Harry lingered at the scene to look around the damaged hideout. Aurors were going over the place, pointing their wands to check for anything with active magic, like a Portkey. Harry didn't need his wand, and checked for a few minutes but found nothing. He went back to headquarters.

He found himself being congratulated and complimented by a dozen Aurors. "Six DE's, not a bad day's work," said one.

"I'm sure their master will be worried about them," joked another.

"Is the interrogation underway yet?" asked Mel.

"I'm not sure," responded Harry. "Where would that be?"

"There's a special room, I'll show you," she said. She led him through a corridor to a room with no windows, a table, and a seat on either side. A few seconds later, Kingsley entered behind a Confunded Crabbe. Kingsley put him in the seat, and from Crabbe's motions, it was as if gravity was stronger there. Harry looked at Mel, who explained. "That chair has stationary magic that doesn't allow movement."

"Ah."

Kingsley stood to one side and spoke to the prisoner, the Confundus spell having been removed. "So, Crabbe, it seems to me right now that a switch in your loyalties would be in your best interest. This may be the only chance you get."

The large man stared at Kingsley stonily. "I will never betray the Dark Lord. When he takes power, he will see to it that you and those like you are burned the rest of the way."

Puzzled, Harry looked at Mel, then at Kingsley, who raised an eyebrow in an expression that looked more amused than anything else. "It's a reference to my skin color," he explained, holding up an arm to illustrate. "You know, as if I've already been burned to some degree..."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Very clever."

Kingsley eyed the prisoner again. "I don't know, I heard better ones at Hogwarts. In my first year," he said to Crabbe, as if to emphasize Crabbe's stupidity for not being able to think of a better insult. "Okay, well, there's always Veritaserum."

Crabbe laughed. "That will not work," he said confidently. "The Dark Lord has developed a potion that will make Veritaserum useless."

"Well," said Kingsley casually as he prepared the serum, "it's nice to know that he has such little faith in your abilities that he prepared for your capture. Let's see if this really works or not."

With a spell, he caused Crabbe's mouth to open, and remain open wide. Kingsley poured a small vial of Veritaserum onto Crabbe's tongue.

The effect was nearly instantaneous. The tongue lit up, and in two seconds was a bright orange, as Crabbe screamed in agony. A few more seconds, and it reminded Harry of a hot piece of charcoal; some black and some orange. Kingsley Silenced Crabbe, who was still screaming. Very soon, the tongue was a limp, black shard, and it crumbled into dust, resting at the bottom of Crabbe's mouth. Sighing, Kingsley Stunned Crabbe to put him out of his immediate misery.

"Wow," said Harry, eyes still wide. "Nasty."

Mel shook her head. "I'm sure Voldemort thinks that was very clever."

"He's right, it does make Veritaserum useless," observed Kingsley dryly. "Gotta give him credit for that. Quite a piece of work, that man is."

"I guess we won't be trying that on the others, right?" asked Mel.

Kingsley gestured to Harry. "Your call."

Harry shrugged. "Ethics aside, it seems like it wouldn't do too much good, practically speaking. I don't like the idea that we'd be burning their tongues on the off-chance that he didn't do all of them."

"Just to be a devil's advocate," clarified Kingsley, "it wouldn't be us burning their tongues, it'd be Voldemort. If you or I take Veritaserum, it won't burn our tongue off. I'm sure you see my point."

Harry shook his head. "I do, but it seems like a technicality. We know what's going to happen; it feels like the same thing."

"I don't disagree," said Kingsley.

"No other way to make them talk?" asked Harry.

"Just good old-fashioned torture," said Kingsley.

Harry's eyebrows went high. "We don't actually do that, do we?"

"Generally, no." To Harry's surprised look, he added, "The thing to keep in mind is that generally, torture doesn't work. If we took Goyle and started in on him, he might resist at first, but people usually break at some point. But what if he has no valuable information? It's reasonably likely that we already know most of what he could tell us. If we torture him on the chance that he has some big piece of information, like Voldemort's location, it increases the chance that he'll tell us some lie, just to make the torture stop. We get bad information. We waste time tracking it down, or worse yet, conduct an operation on the basis of bad information.

"Now, if," Kingsley continued, "if we know, 100%, that he has information that's critical for us to have, and it's something we have the power to check on and know we're not being lied to, then torture can work. Not will, but can. So, I guess the point of what I'm saying is that I can't say that torture has absolutely never been used by Aurors in the past hundred years. I actually can't say that it hasn't been used in the past twenty, but if it has, I'm not aware of it. Let's just say that I can conceive of circumstances where I would seriously consider it."

"Let's just hope it doesn't come to that," said Harry, knowing that he would have to be the one to make any such decision. "But we could threaten them... I mean, we could show them the memory of what happened to Crabbe, then tell them that we'll give them the Veritaserum if they don't talk. Right?"

Kingsley shook his head. "Not if you're not prepared to carry it out. Death Eaters are afraid of Voldemort, they know what happens to anyone who lets him down. If I were a Death Eater, I might let my tongue be burned off before doing something that would make me his enemy. So, if you do it and don't follow through, you're just letting them know that any threat you make shouldn't be taken seriously."

"If they're already in custody, does that really matter?" asked Mel.

"If you assume they're never going to escape, then you have a point," conceded Kingsley. "But then you've foreclosed the possibility of threatening them again."

Harry sighed. "Okay. I suppose we can be happy just that we got these six, and we probably wouldn't have gotten much from them anyway. I've heard that Voldemort doesn't even make his location known to Death Eaters, I suppose in case something like this happens."

"That's a pretty good way to look at it," agreed Kingsley. "Now, what do we tell the press?"

"Why do we need to tell them anything?" asked Harry.

"Knowing that we got half a dozen DE's would be good for public morale," pointed out Mel. "And it doesn't tell You-Know--" She reacted to Harry's sharp look. "Okay, okay, it's just a habit. It doesn't tell Voldemort anything he didn't know, or wouldn't have found out soon enough. I can't think of any reason to keep this secret. And I hate to say it, because I know how you feel about it, but... this would be a very good time to do that interview that Skeeter's been pestering you about. Just be sure to mention my name," she joked.

He rolled his eyes. "How about, you do the interview, and don't mention my name," he retorted.

She gave him a sympathetic grin. "The burden of the Auror Leader. Having to deal with parasites like Skeeter."

He turned to Kingsley. "I assume you think this is a good idea too." To Kingsley's nod, Harry continued, "How do I explain how I saw them? I'm not about to let everyone know that I can see through Polyjuice Potion."

Kingsley's casual tone suggested that it was an easy question. "'For security reasons, I can't provide any details of that operation.' It's a standard response to that kind of question; we've all used it on a number of occasions. Just keep in mind that she's likely to ask you the same question in a number of ways, try to catch you off guard. Also, be sure to stipulate that the article will be reviewed by the Aurors to make sure security details don't slip in. That's standard for articles about anything that could be a security matter."

Harry nodded, suppressing a smile. He would tell Skeeter to submit the article to Hermione for approval. That would let Skeeter know that she was on a short leash. She may have told the truth about Dumbledore, but that didn't mean he had to like her.

* * * * *

Indeed, the headline on the Christmas morning Prophet blared out, "Potter's Christmas Present: Six Death Eaters Captured." No other news appeared on the front page: there was the Skeeter interview with him, a straight news article that was naturally light on specifics, and an article about the Death Eaters captured, including names, photos, and comments from those who knew them, many of the comments not for attribution.

He decided not to make the rounds that morning, worried that some people might try to use the day as an excuse to give him presents. Hermione approved, while Ron thought Harry was being silly. Harry decided not to bother explaining to Ron the discomfort involved in turning down gifts from well-meaning people.

In between errands at Auror Headquarters, Harry spent most of the day at the Burrow. In recognition of the special occasion, every single Weasley--even Charlie--was in attendance, as were Fleur, Hermione, and Neville. They all talked, listened to music, and drank hot chocolate and eggnog. Harry hadn't bought any gifts, but was given a few by Arthur and Molly. Ron couldn't resist joking that as Auror Leader, Harry naturally couldn't accept any gifts. Harry was somewhat annoyed at the joke--he thought he had a good reason for being reluctant--but managed to keep his reaction down to an eye-roll. Other than that, he enjoyed the time.

Luna would be having dinner with her father at their home, but she agreed to spend an hour with Harry at Grimmauld Place before their respective dinners. Harry relayed his annoyance with Ron as they sat on the living room sofa; she nodded thoughtfully. "It may have to do with the thing about money that you've said he has," she suggested. "Maybe for him, the fact that you'll be given gifts that he wouldn't is like you always having had more money than you knew what to do with, while he had too little."

Harry frowned. "I thought he'd gotten over that."

"Maybe he has, but I think some situations can bring that kind of thing up again. I'd just be patient, it'll go away naturally."

"I've already been pretty patient," he grumbled. "Well, I shouldn't spend all our time together complaining about this. I'm just happy to be with you."

She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "As am I, with you."

He put an arm around her, and they moved closer. "At least one good thing about this is getting to spend Christmas with the people who are still here," he remarked. "George gets to spend one more Christmas with Fred, and you have one more with your father. That's something, anyway."

She nodded silently, but a pall came over her face. Harry wasn't sure how good he was at reading expressions, but this one was very atypical for her. "What's wrong?" he asked.

She paused, and it occurred to him that one thing he could count on with her was that she would never give the automatic answer 'nothing' when something was obviously wrong. I should try not to do that, he thought. Of course, if I do, she'll probably call me on it.

"You're right, of course, but... I feel as though it's wrong for me to contemplate the benefits of being here, since it's because of me that we're here in the first place."

His face fell. "It wasn't your fault--"

"Come on, Harry. Of course it was."

"We don't know that."

"It's the only explanation that makes any sense." Seeing him about to object again, she raised her hand. "Harry, let's not argue about this. I admit that we can't know it for an absolute fact, but both my mind and my gut tells me that it's the case. In my mind, it is my fault unless it's proven otherwise."

He shook his head. "I wish there was something I could say to change your mind."

Her smile was wistful. "I wish there was too, but the reason there isn't is that what I say makes sense. Ask Hermione. If you push her, she'll admit that it's what makes the most sense."

He decided not to tell her that he already had, and Hermione had given the answer she predicted. He was about to say that she couldn't have had any way to predict that her actions would cause the switching, then at the last second remembered that he had warned against anything that could affect space/time, of which going to another dimension was a perfect example. He pulled her into a hug, hoping that would be better than words.

"And I also feel bad that the other Luna won't get to spend this Christmas with her father, and it'll be the last one," she said as she held him. "I... I try not to talk about this, but since I am already... I think about this every day, Harry. I know I'm responsible for this, for everything that's happened. It weighs on me. I was so careless, I just did what I wanted to do..." She went silent, holding onto him more tightly.

"I understand," he said as he held her. "Sometimes I feel the same way."

She looked up at him in confusion. "Why would you feel like this?"

"I'm Auror Leader, and I brought us back in time, knowing there could be dangers. That gives me more than enough responsibility."

She sighed. "I'm sorry."

"Please, don't apologize. It's--well, I don't think of it as your fault."

"That's very sweet of you. But it was my idea, anyway."

He had to think for a minute before he understood what she meant. "It wasn't so much your idea, as you realized that it's what must have happened. If you look at it that way, it's more like fate. It's as though we didn't have much choice. And also, keep in mind that we have to get back, or else your meeting with your father on the other side can't happen. So, it must be that we get back."

"Or, there'll be a catastrophic time paradox," she said glumly.

"That won't happen." Probably, he added to himself.

"Couldn't it be that the Luna you saw in that vision was the other one, and not me?"

He hadn't thought of that. "I guess it's not impossible, but for some reason I really don't--oh, the necklace! You were wearing that necklace in my vision. Well, a necklace, anyway. I didn't recognize it then, couldn't make out the shape. But your father said it suited you, and now, I understand that meant because your name is Luna, and the moon--"

The badge he wore on his uniform made a sharp, loud noise; it was the first time it had gone off since he'd started wearing it. Not now, he thought. "Yes?"

It was Kingsley's voice. "Harry. Code yellow, Diagon Alley, main square."

"What does 'code yellow' mean?" As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Harry realized he should have just gone rather than asking.

"I'll explain later. For now, just get here as fast as you can."

"Okay." He didn't stand up immediately. "I'm sorry--"

"Go," she urged him.

Her expression told him that she wasn't happy, but understood that this would happen sometimes. He'd wanted to do more to make her feel better, or less guilty, but duty called. He wondered how many dozens or hundreds of times something similar would happen in the future, then stood and Disapparated.

There was already a crowd, and Harry had to make his way through part of it to where he could see the Aurors were. Some people were looking up; he did as he moved, and saw the Dark Mark. Great, he thought. Somebody got killed. This had to happen sometime, I knew.

But nothing prepared him for what he saw once the crowd, recognizing him as he pressed through, parted enough to allow him to see what was the focus of attention. From a distance, there could be seen three bodies, so red it appeared that blood had been poured all over them. Two larger, one smaller, and as he got to within ten meters, he saw that the shape of one of the bodies looked disquietingly familiar. He broke into a jog, and it was only seconds until his surmise was confirmed. Carelessly piled together were the bodies of Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley.

Inside, he cringed. How did I not think of that, he asked, damning himself. I never gave them a thought since I got here. They were okay last time, maybe I thought unconsciously that they'd be okay this time. But this is my fault, and I can't do anything to make it right. I hope they didn't suffer, but knowing Voldemort, I wouldn't bet on that. He came to a halt, and looked down, away from the grisly scene.

"Who are they?" asked one of the dozen Aurors on the scene. Nobody answered.

Kingsley walked over to Harry. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.

"Is there anything we can do about the crowd?" whispered Harry. He was very conscious of the gawking.

Nodding, Kingsley cast a spell. Harry saw no observable changes, but people started dispersing. "It's a temporary spell, and easily defeated by someone who wants to try, but it hides everything in the immediate area from observers for a few minutes. We may have to update it."

"Can't we get them out of here?"

"We have to do a crime scene analysis," Kingsley pointed out. He pointed to a group of six Aurors standing together. "Interview the crowd, find witnesses. Get a few accounts for the Pensieve." They nodded, walking away in different directions.

"Harry," said Kingsley, in a more businesslike tone. "I can guess what's going through your mind right now. But I have to remind you that you're the Auror Leader, and you need to be that right now. Take charge. Self-recriminations can wait for later."

He gave Kingsley an angry look, even though he knew Kingsley was right. The anger faded from his face. "What is there to do, that I personally need to do?"

"Like I said, take charge. You're fairly new, so you may need to ask about certain details. Where we take the bodies, where the post-mortems are done, things like that. St. Mungo's has a couple of pathologists, and an Auror usually supervises in cases like this. There's a well-established procedure."

"Okay," said Harry, trying to put aside his feelings. "Take me through it, step by step."

* * * * *

Chapter 17, Three A Day: Wizarding society starts to panic as Harry and the Aurors are unable to stop the escalating violence.

From Chapter 17: "It... it was You-Know-Who," said the very frightened man. "It had to be. I didn't get a good look at his face, he was wearing a hood, but what little I saw was... weird, creepy. It had to be him. He killed those three... then he turned and looked at me. I thought I was a goner. But he spoke... that voice, so high, so terrible... he said, I'll be back for you. Don't know why he didn't kill me."