Monsters Aren't Real, Son

Chapter 3: Midnight Sortie

October 19, 2008

11:30 p.m.

"I must confess, I wasn't expecting you to accommodate my request quite so soon," George said.

He stood in the darkness outside Malfoy Manor with five other figures, all of them dressed in black from head to toe. Every inch of their clothing was magically charmed to repel offensive spells, thanks to his patented and extensive Weasley's Magical Defensive line (now almost universally referred to as WMD).

"Coincidence, actually," Harry chuckled softly. "We'd just gotten word from an operative the day before your letter arrived..."

"At four in the bloody morning, thanks ever so," Ron grumbled.

George joined Harry in quiet laughter. Ah, revenge is sweet, indeed!

"Anyway, it's a flimsy lead at best, but we've got a secret weapon with us tonight," Harry said.

"Secret weapon?" George asked.

"A hotshot rookie ward buster," Ron explained. "This time, we're hoping to find a few more of the bastard's secret hiding places."

"What's he up to this time?" George asked.

"Nasty business, as usual," Ron hissed. "You know all about that rot involving Umbridge and the Hogwarts' Board from this spring, right?"

George nodded, feeling an angry heat begin to well up inside of him. Delores Umbridge had made a bid to seat herself on the school's governing board. He'd laughed it off at first, confident the mad cow was harmlessly flapping her gums. The idea was utterly preposterous - Umbridge on the Governing Board of Hogwarts!

But then, articles supporting her nomination began getting published in the Prophet. People in Diagon Alley began talking about how she'd supposedly changed, and what a wonderful, inspirational example she'd now set as a reformed (and tragically misled, according to her own revisionist history) woman. "She ought to be given a second chance!" proclaimed the gullible. "She's paid her debt to society and wants to help now."

Some bloody idiot had even come into the Wheezes shop in Hogsmeade, asking George to sign a petition in support of her bid. George's reply had been as vehement as it had been impolite, to say the least. The man had been unceremoniously tossed out in the street on his arse, to boot.

But it was only after Headmistress McGonagall personally wrote to every single Hogwarts student's parents, urging them to oppose Umbridge and reminding them of her horrific disciplinary methods, that people started to come to their senses. Then, over the past summer, George had been among the first and loudest to proclaim he'd not only withdraw his children but his generous financial support of the school as well if Umbridge was appointed.

That was when Malfoy began to surreptitiously rear his ugly head. George and his father had suspected he'd been lurking somewhere behind Umbridge since the very beginning, salivating greedily at the thought of having a puppet on the Governing Board - a position he once held himself but was now barred from. He'd always used his money to smooth things over, to cover the rotten stink with perfume, to disguise the poison with honey.

"He's got to be buying the positive press, but why?" George had asked his father one day last summer.

"Doesn't Draco have a boy about Joey's age?" Arthur had pointed out.

"A bit younger, I think." Then George had snorted. "But why would they even bother with Hogwarts this go 'round? Why not just send the little creep to Durmstrang where he belongs?"

"Now, George, be charitable. The faults of the father don't necessarily pass to the son," Arthur had countered.

"Somebody forgot to explain that little gem of wisdom to Draco," George had grumbled. "His kid doesn't stand a chance."

Arthur had grimaced. "It certainly would appear that Lucius is looking to get his fingers in yet another pie of influence once again. His name still carries quite a bit of weight in the Ministry."

"Which doesn't say much for the Ministry idiots," George had sneered.

"Kingsley knows, and he's watching the situation closely," Arthur had assured his son. "He's put the Auror Department on notice. There's a fine line between legal influence and corruption, to be sure, but he's determined to root out the latter absolutely."

Yet even under the gaze of such auspicious, official eyes, as the new school term began that autumn, questions began to surface about McGonagall's age and health. Mutterings were heard about how she had cooperated with the infamous Headmaster Snape in his torturing of students during the war. Rumors spread about her current lack of adequate control at the school.

Utter hogwash, the lot, George railed silently. As if anyone who'd ever met the woman could question her authority! Or her moral convictions. She'd received the Order of Merlin, First Class for her war efforts and subsequent leadership at the school, for heaven's sake!

Conveniently for the suspected but as yet unproven Umbridge-Malfoy alliance, unrest began to spread throughout the centaur population of the Forbidden Forest at the same time. Seemingly out of the blue, they insisted they were under attack from Wizarding Britain - that one of their own had been murdered in cold blood at the hands of a wizard - and threatened retaliation against whatever human was at hand at the moment unless the guilty party submitted to their own brand of justice.

All eyes had turned to Hogwarts in the days that followed.

McGonagall insisted there was a peaceful solution to be had. Personally heading up the negotiations with the centaurs, she worked to convince them that no one at Hogwarts had anything to do with any attack. She offered both her own services as well as those of the Auror Department to discover who was responsible. The Ministry promised to do what they could to apprehend the perpetrator as soon as possible. Hermione added her guarantee that every available legal resource would be provided to the prosecution.

The centaurs were understandably skeptical. They had little faith in the Ministry that had betrayed them so often. But grudgingly, they had agreed to a temporary truce.

As a show of good faith, a small team of un-wanded aurors ventured into the forest, gathering what evidence there was to be found at the scene of the crime. No body was recovered - the centaurs claimed it had been removed from the Forest, the act of which had been a desecration in and of itself. Finally, the aurors had announced at a press conference that clues had indeed been recovered, and leads were being pursued, but that to comment further on any details might tip off the guilty before they were apprehended.

But the damage to McGonagall's reputation had already been done. It made no logical sense, but since when did mob mentality ever bend to logic? The whole mess had happened in her back yard, as it were, and on her watch. Parents began to panic. Children were withdrawn from the school and terrified letters published in the paper. In one fell swoop, McGonagall had lost the confidence of the general public.

Just last week, Delores Umbridge had stepped forward with a plan of her own to deal with the "Centaur Problem," as it was now referred to. She insisted she'd decried the presence of the centaurs all along, exhorted for years about the dangers they posed. Reminding everyone how she'd been kidnapped and tortured by them herself, she proposed a new plan: forcible relocation of the British centaur population to a new reservation on an island in the North Sea.

"They don't appreciate proper civilization," Umbridge had explained in the latest Prophet interview, her horrible photograph tittering girlishly. "If they don't wish to live peacefully beside decent humans, then by all means, they should leave. A deserted island ought to seem like paradise to them, I should think. They certainly have no business living anywhere near a school, for heaven's sake - a fact which I have frequently mentioned in numerous unanswered complaints to the current Headmistress."

"We must always think of the children, mustn't we?" Umbridge had urged plaintively.

"Yeah, I remember," George growled in distaste. "Malfoy's stink is all over that mess."

"Whatever you think you know, I promise you, it's worse," Ron insisted.

"Ever heard of gris-gris?" Harry asked.

George was taken aback. He had heard of such a thing, but only in whispered tones from his dodgier connections for potions ingredients. Dabbling in voodoo often proved to be a very slippery slope and could quickly go from comparatively innocent love charms to dark stuff, indeed. The talismans and amulets often contained horrific items; body parts - human or otherwise - were considered powerfully magical in the religion.

"What does that have to do with anything?" George demanded.

"Apparently, someone in Britain is sending out feelers, claiming to have centaur parts for sale," Harry said, his voice hard.

"Three guesses who it is, and the first two don't count," Ron added in an equally hard voice.

George nearly took a step backward, literally reeling as the connections clicked together in his mind. "Malfoy murdered the centaur? To get back at McGonagall for opposing Umbridge?" he hissed, horrified.

"Malfoy needed someone slimy enough to do his bidding on the Board but with a public face that could be shined up," Ron explained. "The pink bitch was perfect for the job."

"But Umbridge hated her time at Hogwarts. Ever wondered what could have possibly induced her to consider having anything to do with it again?" Harry asked, unnerving George by glaring at him with a green fury in his eyes George'd never seen before.

"I'm betting the centaur part of it was Umbridge's requirement. Her reward, I suppose, for cooperating with the plan. The fact that it's all causing problems for McGonagall right now is just icing on the cake," Ron spat.

"Nothing's proven... yet," Harry replied darkly.

Monstrous! George thought, his mind roiling. The bastard's greed knows no bounds! It wasn't enough to murder for political gain? He had to desecrate the body and attempt to make a financial profit as well?!

"It'll be a war," George gasped. "If the centaurs find out the victim was...." Dismembered, he gulped silently. Then sold as parts!? Parceled out to the highest bidders? Put to unspeakable uses!?

"If it's true, and if they find out, you're right," Ron said pointedly.

George looked at his younger brother, startled by the jaded tone of his voice. "You aren't going to just let Malfoy and Umbridge get away with it!" George cried. "For the sake of political expediency?" The centaurs had a right to justice, just like anyone else!

"Why do you think we're here tonight?" Ron snapped. "They're not getting away with anything," he snarled.

Harry waved the group to huddle up. "Is everyone ready?" he asked. "Are there any questions about the plan tonight?"

George shook his head along with the rest of the team. He understood what was expected of him and now looked forward to it more than ever. They're not getting away with anything, he heard Ron's voice repeating in his head.

"I want everything tonight to go by... the... book," Harry directed, slipping into command mode. "Let's make sure everything we find will be admissible before the Wizengamot.

"Sykes, Petersen, - you'll go with the Weasleys. And all of you remember, you do not recognize Landis. None of the Malfoys have much talent for legilimency - occlumency is more their style - but we have no idea who else might be in there, so keep it clear in your mind. Take her into custody with everyone else."

"Understood, sir," a young woman answered him, the young man beside her nodding as well.

Harry turned to a young man standing a little away from the group. His eyes were closed, yet it was still clear he was intently focused on the mansion before them.

"Have you broken through the wards yet, Abercrombie?" Harry asked.

"Almost," replied the little fellow who barely looked old enough to be of age. "I can feel it's linked to an alarm of some sort. When I break this last bit, they'll know it," he warned his superior.

"Right," Harry said. "Let me know the instant you're through." He turned back to the group. "We'll apparate into the main hall on my signal."

Ron turned to his little patrol. "We're to fan out, cover all four floors. Nobody goes anywhere alone - got it? Round up everyone you find, disarm them, and bring them back to the main hall. There's a good chance the little boy is in there - no spells on him."

Sykes, Petersen, and George all nodded.

George's pulse was racing and his hands sweaty with excitement. He'd just been handed a legal excuse to exact revenge on a Malfoy, and he was planning to make the most of the opportunity. Rotten, stinking, filthy excuse for a human being anyway....

"I'm through!" Abercrombie hissed.

A loud wail pierced the night in the same instant.

"Now!" Harry shouted, and all six wizards disappeared into thin air.