Harry Potter and the Amulet of the Moon

Chapter 17

Three a Day

Harry was swimming in the Pacific Ocean, a few dozen meters from the beach. He looked up and saw the stars, but they didn't provide the peace and comfort they usually did. He'd tried to sleep, but not surprisingly, failed. Swimming was, at least, better than lying in bed, the visions going through his head. He could visualize how it had happened. He didn't want to, but found he didn't have any choice in the matter. His unconscious, it seemed, was determined to punish him for his sins in this way.

It was altogether too easy to visualize, because of one detail the other Kingsley had given him that he'd much rather not have known: traces of blood had been found in Vernon and Petunia's nasal passages... it was not their blood, but Dudley's. They had been alive, no doubt unable to move, while their son's blood spilled all over them...

Voldemort had known, of course, that this could be determined. It had to be why he did it that way: he wanted Harry to know in no uncertain terms that his victims had suffered horrible torment before they had died. Probably they were tortured too, thought Harry, but that doesn't leave the kind of physical evidence Voldemort wanted left behind. At least not the Cruciatus Curse, anyway. He'd also been given details of the way the victims had died, again in a way designed to maximize the pain and terror.

Similarly dark thought went through his mind until he swam close enough to the shore to see a figure sitting on the beach. At the distance he was, he couldn't make out the face, but the dark skin narrowed the choices, and the larger build provided the rest of the information. Guess I should listen to whatever he has to say, thought Harry resignedly.

He made his way to the shore, walking once he reached waist-high water. Wearing only a pair of dark blue shorts, Kingsley was sitting on the beach only a few feet from where the waves reached the sand. "Didn't know you took early swims," he remarked.

"That's because you usually don't," responded Kingsley. "I go to sleep early, and don't need that much sleep. I like a long swim before and during sunrise. I'm going to kind of miss this place. Can't do this in England, especially in the winter."

"Yeah," said Harry unenthusiastically. He sat next to Kingsley, sand sticking to his wet legs. He would have to go for a rinse afterwards. He assumed Kingsley had something to say, or else the older man would have already begun his swim.

"Did you hear that some of them got the group spell?"

At another time Harry would have been happy, but right then, it didn't seem to matter. "No." After a short pause, he added, "That's good." He wondered why no one had told him, then realized that it was likely that people wanted to leave him alone with his thoughts at a time like this.

After another minute, Kingsley spoke again. "He's trying to get inside your head."

Harry wasn't surprised that Kingsley had been told what happened. "He succeeded."

"Only for a while, I hope," responded Kingsley conversationally. He seemed to be going out of his way to avoid expressing sympathy, which Harry appreciated. He'd had more than enough already. Only then did it occur to Harry that Kingsley was demonstrating good empathy skills, as he'd thought about it enough to know that Harry wouldn't want sympathy.

"Is there some way to get him out of my head?"

"Just time, and an understanding of what he's doing. He could've killed anybody, and he will do that soon. I suspect he'll wait until the first of the year, just for neatness' sake. I'm sure he had their location before that, but just chose now for them because of your catching those six. He wanted to hit you with the biggest blunt object he could find. More will be coming, and you have to be prepared for that.

"You can't let your emotions affect your actions, because that's counterproductive. That's what he hopes you'll do. It's not easy to keep those things separate, I know. But the more you can, the more effective you'll be."

As he stood, Kingsley gave Harry a brief pat on the shoulder, then headed into the water. Somehow, thought Harry, I thought he'd say more than that. But maybe that's all there was to say.

In the week from Christmas to New Year's Day, there were no attacks. Harry confirmed that all the homes of the DA members were protected by the Fidelius Charm, and personally visited two homes that weren't, strongly urging their occupants to do so. He also let himself be interviewed for a front-page Prophet article for the purpose of urging every citizen to protect their home. He reviewed security procedures for well-traveled public areas in which Apparition was possible, such as most of Diagon Alley, and the Ministry Atrium.

On New Year's Eve day, an editorial in the Prophet suggested that the heavy emphasis on precautions was bordering on paranoia, and made reference to the Dursleys' deaths. Greatly annoyed at the implication that his actions were motivated by an irrational emotional state, he decided to seek out the editorial's writer. Most editorial writers were anonymous, but with Blackstone's help, Harry was able to track down the writer, asking a few blunt questions of the man's colleagues.

Shocked by being found and confronted by the Auror Leader, the man--a fairly senior Ministry official whose friendship with the Prophet's publisher gave him occasional license to air his opinions in the paper--quickly backed away from what he had written, admitting that the editorial was nothing but a battle tactic in a turf war with an opposing department head in a fight over Ministry resources. Disgusted, Harry struggled to take no stronger action than to inform the man that while he had no problem with legitimate differences of opinion, he was not about to let himself be used as a pawn for such petty reasons. He warned the man against doing anything similar in the future. Clearly intimidated, the man took pains to assure Harry that he had nothing to worry about. Probably true, thought Harry, as he suspected that the publisher, not wanting Harry to be on his bad side, probably wouldn't allow the man to write in the Prophet's pages again.

On the morning of the first day of the new year, Harry found himself on edge, remembering Kingsley's prediction of attacks beginning on that day. All Aurors were on duty, with twice as many patrols as usual. In addition, Harry had several teams of DA members doing casual patrols, pretending to be shopping. They had communication devices, and could alert him at a moment's notice. The idea had actually been proposed by Neville, with the strong support of those doing the patrols. Harry had been uneasy, and only consented when they agreed to operate in groups of four, rather than the customary two with Aurors. He still worried--it would be difficult to deal him a greater blow than to kill four of his friends, especially as Ron and Hermione were part of one group--but as they were Auror trainees, he couldn't reasonably refuse their offer.

Harry had chosen Hedghorn as his patrol partner, and as they walked, he reminded himself that the Hedghorn that he'd seen in the Auror Leader test was not intended to be a realistic portrayal of the man, but was just filling a role. Probably, he added silently. He did wonder why the test didn't simply create a new person for the role, one who didn't exist in real life. No doubt he would never know, as most aspects of the origin and operation of the Auror Leader test were steeped in mystery.

After they'd made their way down the main street, they turned to the residences, and that was when things got creepy. He hadn't been to Hogsmeade for a few days, and as they walked down the street, one he'd walked down many times on patrol, it felt like a ghost town: not from an absence of people, but an absence of houses. One long block on which existed two dozen homes appeared utterly empty, save for a few lawns and garden sheds. It reminded Harry of the post-apocalyptic scenes that he'd seen on Muggle television.

"I gotta say, this is weird," muttered Hedghorn.

"No argument," agreed Harry, looking all around. They'd been on patrol for a half hour, but little conversation had been exchanged.

Hedghorn spoke again. "So, Potter..." Harry knew that Hedghorn knew that Harry was supposed to be called 'Leader Potter', but he wasn't about to make an issue of it. "I wanted to let you know that I've forgiven you for that thing you pulled when we first met."

Assuming this was an implicit apology, Harry tried not to grin. "I appreciate that."

Understanding that his apology had been accepted, Hedghorn nodded. "I'm glad you do. I mean, I did what you're supposed to do--get the upper hand, take control of the situation. Eighty years since there's been a Leader, I'd have believed you more if you'd told me you were the Easter Bunny."

"I'll try that sometime," deadpanned Harry. After a minute, he added, "Probably it was my age as much as anything else," he suggested. "If it had been someone older, you might have believed it, a little."

"Maybe, but I'd have done the same thing."

"And if he really turned out to be the Leader?"

"If he was any decent Leader, he'd be able to turn the tables on me. As we saw."

"You don't know that, do you? Is it some common idea that the Leader should be able to get the better of any other Auror? I mean, I thought it was just the moral aspect."

Hedghorn shrugged. "Some of this is ancient history, or close enough, since there hasn't been a Leader for so long. A few Aurors have been doing some research over the past few days. Garrett found something that said that the Leader would be 'more than the equal' of any Auror when it came to skills. And since you're only, what, fifteen, you wouldn't have had time to develop those skills. Not that you're unskilled--you taught the DA--but nobody your age could be the equal of an Auror. So we imagine there are some skills or abilities you've been given."

Harry had given Hedghorn a 'very funny' look after the word 'fifteen' was spoken, but hadn't interrupted. Now, he said, "I was going to protest that I was seventeen, but I realized that doesn't sound a whole lot more impressive."

Hedghorn chuckled. "That was the point of the joke, really. Anyway, nobody really expects you to tell us what these abilities are, though a lot of us are curious."

"I'm not saying I won't ever. I just want some time to think about it. I definitely don't want them to get out to the public."

"No, obviously you wouldn't," agreed Hedghorn. "But I generally think Aurors can be trusted. But speaking of which... you said last week that anyone who wanted to come clean about the last few months should talk to you. One of the guys in the Ministry who it's now understood was, let's say, working well with the Dark wizards... this guy had a meeting with me, found an excuse to tell me how I'd been ignored, not treated with enough respect by the Aurors, and so forth. Really polished the old apple. Of course I'm not so stupid that I didn't know what he was doing, and I had a reasonable suspicion on whose behalf he was doing it. But a week later he told me I was one of five Aurors getting a raise. I should've told him thanks but no thanks, but I didn't. My thinking was, let's just go along with this, see where it leads. But I soon found myself getting used to it. I didn't even think of myself as compromised, though now I understand I was. I guess they suck you in slowly. Anyway, that's as far as it got, but I wanted to let you know."

Harry had known from Kingsley that Hedghorn had been one of the Aurors who was corrupted in his native dimension; he had wondered whether he'd get a confession on this side. This Hedghorn was telling the truth. Can you punish a man, Harry wondered, for what he didn't do but you're sure he would've done if he'd had the chance? Should you? He'd already decided this, and it was fortunate that Hedghorn and the others hadn't had a chance to be completely corrupted. Not having taken too many steps down that road, it was quite likely that he would continue his career without moral incident... at least, unless another such temptation presented itself. And maybe even if it did, this would prove a cautionary tale.

"Thanks, I'm glad to know that," he said sincerely. After a few seconds, he said, "Let's knock on that door over there. The only house on the block not under the Fidelius Charm, it's kind of conspicuous."

Hedghorn looked doubtful. "Bet nothing'll come of it. But sure, okay."

They headed for the home. "Why do you think that?"

The Auror shrugged. "Some people are just contrary. There's no way this guy--and I'd bet serious Galleons it's a man, not a woman who answers the door--no way he doesn't know he's the only one on the block exposed. Probably takes a perverse pride in not doing what everyone else is, convinces himself the threat is overblown. He'll do things his own way, by Merlin, the rest of the world be damned. Believe me, there's always one."

Harry nodded. He didn't know if Hedghorn was right, but it made a certain amount of sense. He supposed there would just have to be some things one learned through experience.

Reaching the door, Harry knocked. Seconds passed with no answer; he knocked again. Hedghorn was looking at the door carefully, from bottom to top. The door looked solid and expensive, made of a dark and solid wood, with streaks of black all over. "What?" he asked Hedghorn.

"This door, it seems..." He pointed his wand at the house and muttered a spell. "One resident... ah, okay, I know who this is. Guy named Woodburn. The door is kind of a pun, though I think it was done by his father, long since gone." He motioned to the dark streaks. "Woodburn, get it?"

"Yeah, I do. But what's his thing?"

"Hermit. Family had money, enough anyway, and he never goes out. Gets everything delivered, doesn't mind paying extra. Uses people like Kitterman."

"If he never goes out, how do you know him?" wondered Harry.

"Reasonably well known among Aurors. Certain citizens typify one class of person, and Woodburn equals hermit. You'll learn them all. Stevenson the pompous gasbag, Whitington the obsessive collector, Delvin the nymphomaniac, Shelton the paranoid schizophrenic. You get the idea."

Harry glanced quizzically. "Were you kidding about the nymphomaniac?"

Hedghorn shook his head. "Nope. Wish I was. At 58, it's not pretty."

Harry tried not to grin. He stepped back and looked up at the second floor balcony, which was stacked with odd items and had no space to walk or sit. He raised his voice to near a shout. "My name is Harry Potter, and I'm the Auror Leader. Please open the door."

No response. "Told you," said Hedghorn casually.

"We're coming in," said Harry loudly. "We just want to talk."

This prompted a response, at almost deafening volume; the speaker had to be using a magical microphone, and the volume sounded as if it was all the way up. "No one comes into my house unless I say."

At the same volume as before, Harry responded. "Then please come down and open the door, sir. If you don't, we will come in. We don't have to come in, but we need to talk to you."

The man spoke through the microphone again, but the volume was lower this time. "A man's home is his castle."

"Generally, yes, sir. But your castle is in great danger, and as a matter of public safety, I must talk to you about it. If you don't open the door in the next minute, we're coming in."

Harry decided to give the man more than a minute. After a minute and a half, the door opened just a crack. A man's figure was behind it, but the figure was clearly a projection, the result of a spell similar to the one Malfoy had used when meeting Blackstone. Harry decided he'd settle for that, as long as he could communicate with the man.

"Thank you, sir," he said, deciding to pretend that it was actually the man standing there. "The reason I'm here is that Voldemort has basically announced his intention to kill anyone he can find. If you look out your windows, you'll see that most houses in Hogsmeade are under the Fidelius Charm; yours is the only one on the block that isn't. That makes you highly vulnerable, and I strongly recommend that you protect yourself and your home with that spell."

The voice was raspy; Harry wondered how long it had been since the man had talked. "Who did you say is going to attack?"

"Voldemort, sir."

"Who's that?"

Harry exchanged a surprised glance with Hedghorn. "A very powerful Dark wizard. He's sometimes referred to as You-Know-Who."

"Never heard of him. And he'll have nothing against me, so I don't need to protect myself."

"He doesn't need to have anything against you to kill you. He kills for the sake of terror. Your house is standing out like a sore thumb."

"Do I have any legal obligation to do as you say?"

Hedghorn gave Harry the slightly raised eyebrow that said 'I knew this wasn't going to work.' "No, you don't."

"If I don't do as you say, are you going to disturb me again?"

Harry couldn't keep a sigh out of his voice. "No."

"Goodbye, then." The door closed.

As they walked down the path to the street, Hedghorn said, "Look at it this way. He couldn't do it anyway. Since he's a hermit, there's no one he'd trust enough to be his Secret-Keeper."

"Better to trust a stranger than to be dead," muttered Harry.

"For you and me, sure. But one thing you're going to learn is that some people operate by very different rules than most of us do. I believe that in his mind, what he's doing makes perfect sense. The important thing is, you've done all you can."

That's not going to make me feel better if he dies; Harry thought it but didn't say it, as he knew Hedghorn was right. You can't save somebody from himself. Pointing to a house in the distance, he said, "What about that one?"

Hedghorn shook his head. "That's abandoned, there's no--"

A sharp beeping sound emanated from his communications device, and from Hedghorn's as well. "Code Red! Diagon Alley, Quality Quidditch!"

The two men Disapparated, and Harry found himself standing in front of the shop in question. Followed by Hedghorn, he entered, and found three Aurors. Three bodies lay sprawled on the floor; the shopkeeper was shaken but not harmed. He was someone who Harry had talked to, both in this dimension and in the other. "Ray, what happened?"

"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." He shuddered. "Not gonna hang around to find out, tell you that. I'm not working for the next little while. Not leaving my house."

The owner of the shop Apparated in, and one of the Aurors who'd responded first took him aside to inform him of what had happened. The other, kneeling over one of the bodies, looked up at Harry. "Leader Potter, something here."

Lying on his back, the dead man's shirt seemed to be absorbing blood, but from the inside; there was clearly a wound to the chest despite there being no damage to the shirt. The Auror did a spell that made the shirt and undershirt temporarily transparent, and Harry gave a start. Carved in the chest, as if with a knife, were the words, 'three a day.' Harry winced. The gauntlet had been thrown down.

* * * * *

3 DEAD AGAIN, AT HANDS OF YOU-KNOW-WHO

"Doing Everything We Can," Says Auror Leader Potter

By Dirk Willgert, Jan. 3

For the second day in a row, three wizards were killed yesterday in a style that leaves no doubt to Aurors that the murders were committed by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. As we reported yesterday, the evil Dark wizard also killed three on the first day of the new year, leaving on one of the bodies a grisly inscription promising three new victims every day. Yesterday's events appear to be a dark confirmation of his intentions.

The victims were all members of one family: David Oliver (47), his wife June (45), and his mother Betty (71). The three had been shopping in Diagon Alley, and were killed within minutes of returning home. Sure to cause great disquiet in the wizarding world is the fact that the Oliver home, like a great majority of wizarding homes at the present time, was under the Fidelius Charm. This means that while He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named should not have been able to access the house, he clearly did.

The slaying occurred at approximately 4:45 p.m., and was reported to the Aurors by the Olivers' son Evan, who had been upstairs and came down when he heard unusual noises. The news spread quickly through the Ministry, where high-level officials called for calm. To the eyes and ears of this reporter, however, those officials themselves were less than the perfect picture of calm. In an indication of the quickly spreading panic these killings are beginning to cause, no Ministry officials would speak for the record, even to condemn the murders. "What good will condemning them do?" asked one mid-level official. "Who doesn't condemn murder? What's important is that nobody wants to be the next target."

Auror Leader Harry Potter would speak for the record, provided that his comments appeared in this article in full and unedited. The Prophet agreed, with the proviso that it would not print his use of the name of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. The Leader was clearly unhappy, and reluctantly agreed to this condition, provided the Prophet made clear what it was doing. Potter's use of the name has been substituted here with [he].

Q: What can you tell the people of the wizarding world, many of whom are wondering whether they will be on the wrong end of the day's trio of murders?

A: I can say that we're working very hard, doing our best to keep our eyes and ears open. I'd like to say, as I've said before, that we want to strongly urge people who witness anything strange to report it to Aurors at once.

Q: Forgive me, Leader Potter, but I can't help but feel that your answer will not be of great reassurance to those I mentioned who are greatly concerned about their safety.

A: I understand that. But the very unfortunate fact is that there's not much more I can say. [He] is extremely powerful, canny, and deadly. We Aurors are doing our best, but we cannot be everywhere at once, and his Disillusioning spell is so good that he can appear invisible even when in motion. We are confident that he will eventually be caught. What we cannot know is when.

Q: How was He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named able to penetrate the Olivers' Fidelius Charm?"

A: We can't know that, of course. Our best guess right now is that he put a spell we call a Temporary Trace on one of the three victims, then when they Apparated, he Apparated to their home. The Temporary Trace breaks, for a very short time, the Fidelius Charm. There might have been a one-minute interval where he could enter their home by force.

Q: How did he track them? The Ministry has such tracking equipment, but He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named certainly should not.

A: I'd be extremely surprised if he did. We know that one of the victims was a classmate of [his] when he was at Hogwarts. We believe that he recognized her, and happened to know where she lived. He would then be able to Apparate there without tracking equipment or spells. I believe that this won't happen to most people who protect their home with the Fidelius Charm.

Q: Why do you believe he has begun these killings?

A: He had been controlling the government, which controls the Aurors, so he had control over society. Now I'm the Auror Leader, which gives me control over the Aurors, which takes away his hold on society--

Q: Do you mean--I apologize for interrupting, but do you mean that he who controls the Aurors controls society?

A: I mean that if you control the Aurors, you can control society if you choose. I don't choose to, because that isn't the role of the Auror Leader. But for him, I'm very sure that an important reason to control the Ministry was the control of the Aurors that it would bring. This was one of the important reasons he kept hidden: he didn't want Aurors looking for him, and he didn't want Aurors refusing Ministry orders on the grounds that the Ministry was controlled by [him].

Q: So, these people would not be dying if you hadn't become Auror Leader.

A: It's possible to look at it that way. But I think it's important to realize what the alternative would be: a government controlled by [him].

Q: With respect, Leader Potter, there would be many who say, at least no one was suffering under the previous government.

A: The fact is, many Muggle-borns were suffering. A few hundred lost their wands, dozens were sent to Azkaban and have suffered greatly. Twelve are missing and presumed dead. Those who aren't Muggle-borns tend to overlook this, and as you know but the Prophet hasn't reported, there's a movement among many Muggle-borns to emigrate. They say they don't want to be part of a society that would throw them overboard for its own protection.

Q: Is that what you believe happened?

A: I'm saying that's what they say. I understand why they say that, and I understand why most wizards didn't rise up in protest when it happened. Many were afraid to do so. But what you said about no one suffering before points up what's been going on. A segment of our society was cruelly repressed under the previous government, and the Prophet has devoted exactly no space to it. These people have a lot to say, and it's a discussion our society needs to have.

Q: Do these deaths, including those of your Muggle relatives, balance that?

A: No deaths balance other deaths. What I'm saying is that evil has to be opposed. It doesn't matter who's on the receiving end of it. It's just that simple.

Q: Do you think the Olivers' teenage children would feel better on hearing that?

A: Having lost several people close to me in this fight, I know very well that nothing I or anyone could say will make them feel better. All any of us can do is our best, and that's what I, and the other Aurors, will continue to do.

Q: Lastly, what advice would you give the people of the wizarding world, to stay safe?

A: The same as before, except that to be very sure that one doesn't have a Trace on them, it may be better to avoid Apparating directly to one's home. Aurors will set up a special area in the Ministry Atrium with special sensors to detect any magic. If one Apparates there and waits three minutes, one can go home with total confidence.

Q: Thank you for your time, Leader Potter.

* * * * *

In the spacious living room of Malfoy Manor, Draco Malfoy held up the newspaper. "Not your best interview, Potter."

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Kingsley took seats; also present were Lucius and Blackstone. "I had a feeling you'd say that. I take it you agree, Mr. Blackstone?"

The old man inclined his head slightly. "Given the questions you received, it was to be expected. You are who you are, and you did what you felt was right. But of course, Draco is correct in that it was not effective in terms of rallying society together, as should be your goal. I have said before, and I will say again, that in a time such as this when society is under attack, efforts must be made to unify society rather than divide it. Your words, true as they were, contained strong hints of blame towards non-Muggle-borns, and many will feel defensive."

Harry struggled not to argue, because he still felt that he was right, even though he also knew Blackstone was right, in his own way. "What do you think I should have said?"

"In response to his comment that no one suffered, you should simply have disputed him without specifically mentioning to whom you were referring, and emphasized that your duty is to protect all of society. You could have added 'not only segments in favor' or some other such formulation. Most would have understood without feeling directly blamed."

"Maybe they should feel blamed," Ron challenged him. Draco shot him a hostile look; Blackstone had no reaction.

Kingsley spoke. "Ron, that doesn't help. Like it or not, Blackstone is right. It's the reality, and Harry needs to understand that. You know I sympathize with the Muggle-borns, but if I'd been there and known what Harry was going to say, I'd have told him not to say it. As it is, we're lucky that the Prophet didn't run some blaring headline like, 'Potter Says Wizard Lives Worth Sacrificing For Muggle-Borns.' That is what a lot of people will take away from it."

Ron wasn't satisfied. "Speaking as one who's risked his life for the benefit of all wizards, I don't have a problem with that."

Kingsley sighed. "I get that, Ron. It's your emotion talking, and there's nothing wrong with that. But Harry is, in effect, the leader of our society right now. He has to represent everyone, not pit one group against another, or do what'll be seen as that. If Voldemort were defeated right now, he'd have the luxury of trying to start a reconciliation, and again, he'd have to be seen as not taking sides. But with people dying, and him seen as responsible for keeping people safe, now isn't the time for that, however 'right' it is." Ron was unhappy, but didn't respond further.

Harry turned to his other close friend. "Hermione?"

She was also very unhappy. "As a Muggle-born, and one who understands history, I have to extremely reluctantly agree with Mr. Blackstone. Emotionally, of course, I feel like Ron does. I wouldn't disagree with anything you said yesterday. But Kingsley's right, this isn't the time. You can't be reminding people of what they did wrong when you're trying to rally them for a common purpose."

Discouraged, Harry said nothing, thinking. Draco turned to his godfather. Gesturing to Harry, he asked, "Can he walk this back? Assuming he's willing to?"

Blackstone nodded thoughtfully. "A carefully worded statement would repair some of the damage. Something that emphasizes that we are all in this together and should not point fingers, and that no such notion should be read into his remarks. That sort of thing. It should be written in advance, and as an aside I would advise the Leader to for the time being only give interviews in which questions are in writing, with time to consult before responding."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "I think I can learn from my mistakes."

Blackstone nodded his acknowledgment. "No offense was intended. In such a sensitive situation, one can never be too careful."

"I suppose I can't argue with that," Harry reluctantly conceded. "Okay. I'd like you to write the statement. But first, I'd like to ask you to accompany me to the Ministry. Tell me who I should talk to, be with me while I do it."

"Why?" asked a surprised Ron.

"Two reasons. One, he can help reassure Ministry leaders who aren't Muggle-friendly that I'm not trying to be divisive. Two, I'd like him to take their temperature with his ability, find out what the situation is over there."

Harry saw from both Malfoys' faces that they were pleased by the idea. "An excellent suggestion, Leader Potter," said Blackstone. "But I should warn you that in the past I have made public statements about Muggle-borns that you would find objectionable. I have never been a friend of that community."

Harry nodded. "All the better. Muggle-borns know I'm with them. I want mainline Slytherins to know I'm not against them."

"Then, of course, I will do as you ask."

The meeting with those chosen by Blackstone lasted for almost an hour, rather longer than Harry had hoped. Afterwards, Harry found a small meeting room for a private conversation with Blackstone. They took seats at the table.

"I thought it went well," said Harry. "How about you?"

"Indeed, quite well," answered Blackstone. "You were effective in assuring them that you would not neglect their interests, and that you did not hold their support of the previous government against them." A trace of amusement crept into the voice of the undemonstrative man. "Even though I did detect that on a few occasions you were, one could say, stretching the truth."

Harry couldn't help grinning a little. "You could say that. But Kingsley was right: I have to represent all the people, even the ones who did things I don't approve of. I assume the power readings also showed it went well?"

Blackstone nodded. "They began somewhat suspicious, and surprised that I was advising you. That fact, and your later comments, reassured them, and their power signatures strengthened throughout the meeting as they grew confident that you were not a threat to their power. I believe you will read comments in tomorrow's Prophet to the effect that Ministry officials are behind you." With a wry upturn of the left side of his mouth, he added, "These comments will, of course, be anonymous. They are understandably concerned about their safety."

"I suppose that is understandable," agreed Harry. "So, there were some people you thought we should visit individually?"

They stood and exited the room. They had walked down a corridor and turned when Harry's communication badge went off. "Code Yellow, Ministry, fifth floor, meeting room 5G."

Harry broke into a run for the nearest stairs, but stopped himself after a few steps. He turned back to Blackstone. "With me, as fast as you can manage."

The man walked briskly to fall in with Harry. "You should go ahead."

"No. For all we know, that could be something to get me away from you. He might know you're here."

"No doubt he does," responded Blackstone as he hurriedly ascended the stairs, "but you can Apparate. Are you not needed there?"

"It was a Code Yellow, which means that whatever happened has already happened. I could Apparate there, but I want that to be a secret for as long as I can manage." Having reached the top of the stairs, Harry looked down the hall and saw that two Aurors were already there. Blackstone gestured that he should feel free to run, and Harry did.

The Auror, a woman in her early fifties, met him at the entrance to the conference room. "This happened about ten minutes ago, according to our spells." With a look that told Harry he wasn't going to like what he saw, she gestured him inside.

Two men were slumped forward in their chairs; one had fallen onto the floor from his sitting position. Harry's heart sank as he saw that one of those at the table was Arthur Weasley.

He was still awake eleven hours later, at the time of the switch. Physically tired and emotionally exhausted, he wanted to sleep, but he knew he should check in with Kingsley. He stood and left the tent.

About half of those on the island had fallen asleep on the other side and continued that sleep on the island. Others, including Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and George, were already at the main table. England had been very cold, but the island was its usual, comfortable low seventies after midnight.

At a distance, he could tell by Kingsley's expression that Hermione was giving him the news about Arthur. He approached the table and took a seat while she gave Kingsley the essential details. Kingsley expressed his sympathy, as did others who hadn't talked to Ron, Ginny, and George since the last switch. "I can only imagine how your counterparts are going to react when they get back there and get the news," said Hermione sadly.

Kingsley nodded his agreement. "Speaking of which... Ron and Hermione, your counterparts told me they left a message in the Pensieve for you two and Harry. They wanted me to make sure you looked at it before you switch back."

A few minutes later, they put their hands into the Pensieve, and were looking at the other Ron and Hermione. "We'd like to talk to the three of you," began Hermione, "about our Harry's situation. We worry that not enough attention is being given to his problem."

Ron spoke. "Now, we know that there was nothing that could be done until recently, because we and you were in hiding on our side. And we understand that with your Harry in the open as Auror Leader, it isn't the easiest thing in the world for you to get treatment for our Harry."

"But something may be possible," continued Hermione. "And if it is, you're going to have to be the ones to do it, since we're only there for less than five hours at a time, at night, and less every day. It may be possible to find someone who would know something about this, and could keep it quiet."

"Or," said Ron, "there's another possibility. We could take that Portkey to Australia and visit that family that your George met. Your Kingsley says the man is good and trustworthy, so I'm sure he could keep a secret. We could entrust him to inquire with people he knows--and Kingsley says he knows a number of people internationally--on the condition that nothing about this reaches England."

"I know this wouldn't be 100% safe," said Hermione earnestly. "But our Harry has been in a coma for over a month, and we know that's bad for his overall health. Something needs to be done. We know you, especially Harry, have your hands full right now. But my counterpart could look into it. Please think about it, and let us know what you might be able to do." The memory finished.

Back in the tent, the three exchanged glances. "Um, Hermione," said Ron, "correct me if I'm wrong, but wouldn't it be really dangerous for you to even make inquiries? I mean, if you start talking about Horcruxes, and it gets back to Voldemort..."

"Yes, I thought of that too," she agreed. "I must not be thinking very clearly."

"I can understand why they're frustrated," ventured Harry.

"Oh, absolutely," agreed Hermione. "I would be too. But I have to say, I really disagree with my other self. The risk factors in both of their suggestions are high. We don't know that we can trust anyone in St. Mungo's that strongly, and it's a very big chance to take. And as for Australia, we can trust Foster, but can we be sure he won't make a mistake in who he trusts? And the penalty for a mistake is a potentially catastrophic time paradox. We were going to keep George in a cell for risking that, and now, we're going to do it ourselves?"

Harry spoke. "But if she suggested it, maybe the danger isn't as high as you think."

"I'm me, Harry. I know better than she does; I have more information. She isn't being as rational as I would normally be."

"Why do you think that would be?" asked Harry, puzzled.

"Maybe it's because they spend all that time around that Harry," suggested Ron. "And we're taking over their lives, in a sense. Maybe they're not happy about that, and it's affecting the other Hermione's judgment."

She nodded. "It could be."

"Could you leave the return message, Hermione?" Harry asked. "Tell them that of course we sympathize, and we'll keep on the lookout for any way possible. But also mention the problems that we talked about."

"Don't worry, I'll make everything clear."

"Good," he said.

* * * * *

A half hour later, Harry was finishing telling the story to Luna as they sat on the sofa in his tent. He had been so busy throughout the day that he hadn't had a chance to spend any time with her on the other side.

She shook her head sadly. "I felt so bad when I heard. I can't imagine what the Weasleys are going through."

"I decided I should be the one to tell them," he said, trying to hold down the emotions that the memory brought up. "But both with Ron, and with his mother, both of them knew just from looking at my face that someone had died. Both times, they just asked, 'who'. It was hard enough just to tell them that."

"Do you think Mr. Weasley was targeted?"

"Hermione asked the same question. It's hard to say, but I don't think so. Voldemort must have been walking around the Ministry invisible, saw Mr. Weasley by chance, and followed him to a meeting. But then again, he only started back at the Ministry with the new year, so Voldemort could have been waiting for him to become vulnerable. It's hard to say."

"I guess the Ministry people will be really nervous now," she said.

Harry grunted. "That's putting it mildly. Other Aurors and I were constantly being asked by Ministry people what we were going to do about protecting them. Some are talking about not coming in tomorrow."

"Could it reach a point," she wondered, "where society just shuts down because people are afraid to go out?"

"It's already getting close to that," he agreed. "We're getting dozens of requests, demands, people telling us that they aren't going out, or they aren't going out unless this or that is done. Now, we can't spend so much time on patrols, but it doesn't matter, because there's almost no one to protect on patrols. People aren't going out walking around, they're Apparating from place to place. What they want is to be able to go from one place to another and not have to be in an unsecured environment. I don't blame them, and we're spending most of the time working with the stationary magic specialists to set up barriers. What they tell me, and so far this hasn't appeared in the Prophet, is that they're not super-confident that anything they do can't be broken by Voldemort. His magic is so powerful, and his knowledge so extensive, that they just can't be sure. And if it happens that he breaks through some barrier that we put up, people are just going to go nuts. It's doing real damage to society's morale, and I guess that's an understatement."

"Did a similar thing happen eighteen years ago?" she asked.

"I've asked Kingsley and Remus, and they said yes, there was a similar panic. That's why the Boy Who Lived became such a celebrity, people who feared for their lives saw him as some kind of savior. The difference between then and now is that now, people feel as though there was a choice, and that by becoming Auror Leader I made that choice for them. As Malfoy has said, a lot of them would just as soon I hadn't done anything. As long as they can deny it, they'd live under Voldemort if it meant they personally were safe. Back then, there wasn't the perception of a choice, so nobody blamed anybody."

She raised her eyebrows. "Do you think people blame you?"

He tilted his head. "I think not many people would use that word, though if the death count goes up by three per day for any length of time, more and more will. I think it's more that people can't help but notice that people they know, important people in society, weren't being bothered, and now they are. They were willing to ignore the Muggle-borns, but now they can't ignore it. As Kingsley said, they don't really want to blame me, because I'm Harry Potter, I'm the Auror Leader, and they know I'm doing my best. But their patience will run out at some point."

"What happens then?" she asked.

Harry shook his head, remembering something he'd been told. "I'm told that among the Aurors, there's a betting pool on which date a Prophet editorial suggests negotiating with Voldemort, offer him or some representative some position of influence in exchange for stopping the killing."

She frowned. "It seems like... an inappropriate thing to bet on."

"I think it's just gallows humor," he suggested. "Being an Auror can be a grim job, especially at a time like this. I think it's a kind of stress relief."

She held his hand in sympathy. "What are you going to do?"

"Like I said, the best I can. I just don't know if that's going to be enough."

She met his eyes, and he could see her confidence. "It will. You'll do it." He wasn't sure whether or not he could agree, but he would try. See yourself as she sees you, he said to himself, remembering something she'd once said in another situation. Be the person she sees. He would try to persuade himself that he could do it.

* * * * *

As the next week passed, things got no better. Objectively, they didn't get worse, but every day that passed in which three people were killed and Voldemort continued to elude the Aurors felt like a very bad day.

Contributing to the sense of crisis was the fact that most of those killed continued to be Ministry workers. The Prophet loudly trumpeted every day's deaths, and Harry and the Aurors came under ever-increasing pressure to do something to stop Voldemort. The fact was, for all their efforts, Harry knew that it was very possible that Voldemort simply could not be stopped.

On the morning of the eleventh Harry Apparated to the Park to eat in their mess area with other Aurors, as he had taken to doing over the past week. A dozen others were already there; house-elves dashed out to set up Harry's food. He exchanged greetings with the Aurors.

Mel held up the Prophet. "Amberson won the pool," she remarked, gesturing to the young man opposite her. "He picked the eleventh."

An older man named Landers spoke up. "Now, was that the date the editorial was written or..." With a half-smile, he trailed off as he was drowned out by derisive laughter.

"I will not be tricked out of my winnings," declared the young Auror.

"Can I see?" Harry asked Mel. She handed him the paper, folded open to the editorial in question. Shaking his head, Harry started to read.

Conversation continued around him. "What I liked," said Mel, "was the bit about appeasement... what did he say exactly?"

Another Auror read from her paper. "Of course we do not intend to suggest appeasement..."

"Of course not," said the older Auror sarcastically. "Merlin forbid."

"Yeah, that was great," agreed Mel. "When they go out of their way to tell you that they're not suggesting appeasement--"

Two others joined her in chorus. "That's how you know they're suggesting appeasement."

"What does everyone think the reaction will be?" asked Amberson.

"Public or Ministry reaction?" asked another.

"Both," he said.

"Ministry," said Mel, "can be predicted pretty easily. Waffling, no real comment one way or the other until they know the public reaction. The public, that's more difficult. Most won't like the idea, though more for the appearance than the practical result."

Landers spoke again. "If you gave people Veritaserum, and one of the choices was 'I would support sharing power with Dark wizards provided that I was not told that that was what was happening, and I could pretend that nothing morally objectionable was going on', that would be the one they'd pick."

"Sure, if you make it easy for them," joked Mel.

"Well, look at us," said the young woman. "We were pretending that nothing was going on, and we knew better--"

The older man took offense. "We work for the Ministry! What were we supposed to do?"

"What Tonks, Kingsley, Hestia--"

"And if we'd all done that, Dark wizards would have become the new Aurors--"

"Hey, c'mon, c'mon, break it up," urged Mel loudly. "We've had this argument dozens of times, let's not have it again. Harry has come to lead us out of the wilderness."

Harry put down the paper. "And it seems like a lot of the Ministry would just as soon I hadn't. I think I know, but let me ask you... when the Thicknesse government took over, did the Ministry know--"

A few of the older ones cut Harry off with loud chuckles. "Sure they knew," said a middle-aged man named Anton Callis. "Reichstag, 1933."

"Decree of Banishment, 1382," responded Landers.

"I knew you were going to say that," said Callis, apparently amused.

Harry looked at them with a 'what's going on?' expression. "Oh, this is new for Harry!" said Mel, feigning excitement. "I'm sure he'll enjoy this. History lectures, and only a little less boring than Binns'."

"Feel free to fall asleep," said Landers casually.

"Oh, I usually do," she agreed. To Harry, she explained, "These two are history buffs. I should say, magical history, but Anton here also knows quite a lot about Muggle history, so we get to hear about that too. They have this little competition where they try to think of the most pertinent historical parallels for whatever situation is being discussed."

Callis spoke animatedly. "1382 was the last time an unapologetically and unabashedly Dark wizard ruled England," he explained. "There was a Council of Advisers at that time--"

"Oh, I remember something about this," said Harry. "Lund-something?"

"Lundhoffsen, yes," agreed Callis. "Anyway, the Council had some power, but they didn't want to risk opposing Lundhoffsen, so they wrote up a Banishment Decree, basically dissolving their own body. They still retained some local power, however. The Reichstag, which I think is a more apt parallel, handed over their power to Hitler in a way that was supposed to be temporary, but most knew would actually be permanent. They remained a rubber stamp for Hitler."

"Can we really say the Ministry gave away their power?" asked Amberson. "I thought it was more that it was taken away."

"On the surface, it was taken away," agreed Callis. "But many of the department heads and Undersecretaries knew that the Dark wizards were back, and trying to take control. There had been unofficial talks, and the high-ranking people were afraid of being assassinated by You-Know-Who--"

"Excuse me?" interrupted Harry sharply.

Mel chuckled. "I love how Hedghorn's cracks don't bother him, but he gets really annoyed when anyone says 'You-Know-Who.'"

"Can't fault his priorities," remarked Landers.

"Anyway," said Callis wearily, "In deference to the Leader, they were afraid of being assassinated by Voldemort, so they agreed not to oppose Thicknesse being Minister. Now, to be fair, they didn't know Thicknesse would be under the Imperius Curse; they just thought he'd be someone who would represent the interests of the Dark wizards to some extent. They didn't exactly realize they were handing over the keys to the store--"

"Oh, I don't buy that," cut in Landers. "That's what they say now--"

Harry heard Luna's voice in his head. "Ron just Apparated over, he says he needs to talk to you, urgently. He wants you to meet him at Grimmauld Place."

Looking upwards, he saw Ron's face through Luna's eyes. "Tell him I'll be there in a few seconds." He stood, putting a large, last bite of food on his fork. "Ron's calling, says it's urgent. Gotta run."

"If it's anything for us, we'll be here," said Mel. Harry nodded as he chewed the last bite, and Disapparated.

In the living room of Grimmauld Place he saw Ron, Hermione, and Malfoy, the latter of which was a bit of a surprise. "What's up?"

"I asked him to get you," said Malfoy. "Fastest way, since I don't have access to Luna's place. Would you all Apparate over to Malfoy Manor for a few minutes? It might be nothing, but I want to know what you think."

Curious now, Harry nodded, and they were suddenly in the Apparition parlor of Malfoy Manor. Nodding greetings to Lucius, Narcissa, and Blackstone, who was still staying with them at Lucius and Draco's request, Harry asked, "What is it?"

Malfoy pointed to an envelope on a table. "That arrived about fifteen minutes ago. It's for me, and when my father tried to take it off the owl, his hand went right through it. I, on the other hand, can touch it."

Harry exchanged surprised looks with Ron and Hermione. "Hermione, are you familiar with this?"

She nodded. "I've read about it. It's very unusual, because it's not considered so necessary, since you can get an owl that will only surrender its message to the person himself. It's also unusual because to do it, you need a hair or other physical material from the person--" Her mouth fell open as realization dawned. She looked at Malfoy. "Is it?"

He gave a small nod. "I think so. From the Dark Lord."

* * * * *

Next: Chapter 18, Feints and Lures: When a chance to capture Voldemort presents itself, Harry must decide whether it's an opportunity or a trap.

From Chapter 18: Lucius gave him a level stare. "I do not think it likely, but regardless, you should give her Veritaserum without further hesitation. There is nothing to be lost by trying."

"Well, her tongue," Harry couldn't help but point out.