The Kidnapping

Chapter Eight

New York City

Ron felt like they had spent an inordinate amount of time traveling. An enormous expanse of water was whipping by beneath them. He felt like he was going to pass out from the strain.

And then, just as suddenly as they had left Hogwarts, they were there. He felt himself fall over as Hermione knocked into him. As he got up, he saw the skyline of New York City through the window. They were in some sort of loft.

"About time," spoke a voice - a voice belonging to none other than Mad-Eye Moody. "I thought your luggage was going to beat you here. That is, if in fact you're who you look like."

Moody was standing several metres away from them, flipping his wand all too casually in his hand, at the ready to use if need be. His blue eye was shifting around and gazing at them all.

"Moody," Lupin said, "doesn't your eye reveal to you our real identities?"

"Usually, it does," he growled, "but someone may have finally invented a charm that can fool it."

There was an exasperated growl from Sirius.

"I don't suppose you'd care to submit to Veritaserum?" Moody asked, and Ron hoped he wasn't imagining the hint of good-natured kidding in his voice.

"Time is rather short," Dumbledore said with the ghost of a smile. "I'm afraid you will have to settle for Sneakoscope - and besides, I rather doubt you have any Veritaserum on your person." His smile brightened and his eyes sparkled with delight.

"Sadly, you're right there," Moody confessed. He gave the group another look-over with his magical eye, and his lips twisted into what Ron supposed was as good a smile as Mad-Eye could achieve. "Looks like a regular motley crew you have here, Albus. A perennially underemployed werewolf, an escaped convict, a paroled Dark wizard and three teenagers. Not exactly an elite tactical assault team of Aurors, is it?"

The room they were in was plain and undecorated, aside from a sign over a door leading into what looked like the receptionist's office at a police station. The sign read "Portkey Arrivals - Customs." There did not appear to be anyone else there.

"They'll do quite fine, Alastor, of that I am certain," Dumbledore replied cheerfully. "You know that our fine friends Moony and Padfoot typically excel at any activity they set their minds to - as their Hogwarts grades reflect."

"Begging your pardon, Professor Dumbledore," Lupin chimed in, "but is it safe to be talking openly about..." he trailed off, and his head inclined towards Sirius, who was still in his dog form.

Moody smiled. "I arrived here the day after Harry was taken to do some reconnoitring and some talking with the local authorities. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement in England might not pay much attention to Alastor Moody anymore, because he's a paranoid crank, but thankfully my less-than-quiet retirement has gone unnoticed this side of the Atlantic, and I can bend a few ears when I have to.

"Point is," he said, taking a break to take a swig from his hip-flask, "that when I told them Sirius Black was an innocent man, they took my word for it. He's been quietly removed from all the American search-and-detain lists, and if need be, I can call in a favour and have the same thing happen in Canada."

"Thank you, Alastor," Dumbledore said. "That shall make our movements easier. And how have enquiries regarding Mr Salisbury and Miss Scott gone? There was no trouble getting information, I trust?"

"Connor Salisbury is a very private man, and he is unusual in that he has some profile among Muggles - but even then he's just a wealthy recluse, and only about two or three hundred people in the country can tell you where he made his money. My contacts don't have much info on him, but they weren't surprised that he was up to something. Up until now, he hasn't done anything to make them suspicious, but then he hasn't done anything to make him above suspicion, or at least nothing magical.

"What I've found out so far is that he lives in some big mansion and large estate near Mount Solon, where he wants you to meet with him. Keeps to himself, mostly. Catherine Scott is his adopted daughter, and she does a lot of his public work, including groceries. The estate is supposedly covered with anti-Muggle charms, because it's also patrolled, and it's a good bet the guards are those things that you and Snape tangled with."

"So how did he accumulate his present wealth?"

"Well, it's hard to say, but his magic probably has something to do with it - at least helping him make money, if not literally. Most of his work isn't widely known, because it was cloaked in official secrecy during the Cold War." At this point he dropped the normal timbre of his voice. His next sentence was spoken as if he was telling the others that his only child was dead. "The company he owns was instrumental in helping manufacture some of the most critical components for thermonuclear bombs."

Dumbledore, Lupin, and Snape all looked ashen, while the three students were taken aback by the sudden change in demeamour. Sirius growled with displeasure.

"Excuse me, Professor Dumbledore?" Hermione asked. "Why is that such bad news?"

"Muggle and magical history have, since wizards and witches decided to hide themselves, never collided as much as they have during the twentieth century," Dumbledore said. "The worst was the Second World War. I won't get into a history lesson here, but the Muggles inadvertently stumbled upon the most terrible anti-wizarding weapons that could ever be devised. We can only be thankful that they do not know of our existence, for they could well be tempted to use them."

"And those weapons are?" asked Cho.

"Very high-frequency electromagnetic radiation and its by-product: nuclear bombs," Dumbledore said. "Until the last days of the war, all the wizarding world was confident that we were protected, absolutely and ultimately, from any Muggle intrusion into our world. All that changed the ninth of August, 1945. There was a thriving Japanese school of witchcraft and wizardry in Nagasaki. It was annihilated completely along with most of the city when the Americans dropped their second atomic bomb. Between Grindelwald and this new weapon that could breach magical defences, it was as if the sky had fallen."

"How can nuclear bombs penetrate magical wards against Muggle technology and weaponry?" Hermione asked.

"It is precisely because they make use of gamma rays," Dumbledore said. "Since we don't teach physics at Hogwarts, I won't go into too much detail, but gamma rays and their ilk are an integral part of the very nature of reality, for wizards as much as for Muggles. You might notice that every so often the aura of magic around Hogwarts feels inexplicably weaker for a time, and during that time, spells are more likely to miscast or simply not work. This happens when bursts of high-frequency radiation from the Sun strip away layers from the Van Allen belts that surround our world. When that happens, the amount of X-rays, gamma rays, and cosmic rays - each more powerful than the last - penetrating these protective belts increases, often dramatically. When those rays bombard our little corner of Scotland, we feel the effects with a temporary diminishment of our powers.

"If you were to go to the site of any nuclear or thermonuclear explosion, or to a nuclear reactor, or to any place that was consistently exposed to a great deal of high-frequency radiation, you would find that you would be completely unable to use magic. These sorts of energies annul magic. That is why no magical ward can protect us from nuclear weaponry."

"And that," Moody growled, "is the problem. Connor Salisbury, as a wizard, deliberately furthered research into what could be potentially used as an anti-magic technology. The only thing worse would be telling the Muggles who to use it on and encouraging them to do it."

"But... he wouldn't!" Hermione said, appalled. "Think of how many innocent Muggles would also die if he did something like that."

"There'd be trouble if he simply had an ICBM dropped on Hogwarts, yes," Snape retorted, "but if they ever managed to create the technology, what would stop an enemy from showering the area around the castle with gamma rays and breaking down the anti-Muggle wards - as well as temporarily annulling our powers so they could assault the school without fear?"

"But Hogwarts is Unplottable," Cho said. "They'd have to find it, first."

"They could just try the procedure on every deserted, ruined castle in Scotland," Moody said. "Sooner or later they'd strike gold. Then again, if Salisbury really wanted to, he could probably buy his own warhead in Kiev, smuggle it in, and turn all of Scotland into a giant glass parking lot, and take Hogwarts out in the process."

"I rather doubt that Mr Salisbury would find the destruction of Hogwarts in such a manner satisfying," Dumbledore said thoughtfully. "Someone powerful enough to command such creatures as he does would not resort to such a blunt, brutal act. The truly powerful make use of as little of their power as they can; all the better to make their opponents either underestimate or overestimate the extent of their potency. Connor Salisbury has acted so far with the confidence that comes from knowing that he can succeed, even if he does not always do so."

"Which is where we come in," Lupin said.

"Exactly," Moody said. "The local boys have set up surveillance around Mount Solon, and they're looking into whatever they can find about those Dark creatures Salisbury has." Just the libraries and archives of England were being equally combed by Ministry wizards. "How about at our end of the pond?"

"We have people looking into the matter," Dumbledore said. "Not so much for Harry's sake, as Fudge seems to be losing his patience with him, and with myself, but because of the menace Salisbury's minions present. They were able to get through wards that should have repelled everything, and understandably that has the Ministry worried."

Sirius had by this time transformed into his human form, and he chose to join in the conversation. "Plus it's good politics - one of our own gets kidnapped, and an expert team goes on behalf of the Ministry and rescues him, with any luck quickly and efficiently."

"And discreetly," Moody finished.

Ron looked at Hermione and mouthed I'm starving to her, patting his stomach and looking pained. She gave him a look that in no uncertain terms suggested he keep quiet about it, at least for the time being. You just ate breakfast, she mouthed back.

"So when and where is our luggage arriving, Professor Dumbledore?" Sirius asked.

"Here, in a few hours' time. I suggest we get ourselves to our rooms. We will make New York our base of operations until we head to Mount Solon." Dumbledore had a twinkle in his eye. "Once we know where we're staying and where we can discuss our plans without prying eyes seeing what we're up to, I suggest we go find ourselves some lunch."

= = = = =

Some hours later, Dumbledore, Snape, and Moody were meeting with some local officials. Lupin and Sirius were with Ron, Hermione, and Cho as they checked out the sights of New York City. They were dressed in Muggle clothing to avoid attracting attention (their luggage had arrived two hours after they had).

"Unfortunately, there's not a lot to see in New York that's related to magic that we can find without some help," Lupin was saying. "The building we're staying in, where we arrived, is owned entirely by America's Department of Magical Affairs, their equivalent to our Ministry, and it's the principal site of things magical in this city. There are lots of other spots, but unfortunately I can't remember where they are."

Then he stopped suddenly, sniffing the air.

"What is it?" Cho asked.

Lupin's face turned grim. "I smell a rat," he said, and his hand clutched in the jacket he was wearing for his wand.

"Damn!" Sirius said, going for his own wand. Fear and anger played out across his face.

"Wormtail?" Hermione asked.

"Yes," Lupin said, still smelling the air. "He came by this way two hours ago..." He blanched. "He wasn't alone." His wand was out, and he scanned the streets and the nearby buildings furiously.

"I think this tour is over," Sirius said, softly and hoarsely. "Wormtail wouldn't go anywhere unless he was with Lord Voldemort."

Cho jumped and gasped at the sound of the name, and both Hermione and Ron went pale. Ron's wand was shaking in his hand as he turned around to look at a skyscraper behind him.

"Sirius will lead the way back," Lupin said with a calm voice. "Cho, you go behind him, Ron, you follow Cho, and Hermione stay behind Ron. I'll take up the rear. If anything happens, Sirius and I will try to hold them off while you three get back to the building. Understand?"

"Yes," Ron said in a croaky voice as he took up his place between Cho and Hermione. He cast another glance at the smooth, glassy towers around them: no way to see inside. What if You-Know-Who was preparing an ambush?

"Let's go," said Sirius.

Lupin had been keeping track of their distance relative to their building, and with his guidance they easily navigated their way back, without incident.

Cho breathed a visible sigh of relief once they were inside. They headed straight for the lift - the American witch at reception had been confused until they had told her they were looking for the elevator.

They rode up for a minute in silence until Lupin spoke.

"We need to find Dumbledore. He needs to be apprised of the situation."

= = = = =

The hidden safe house had been built during the height of the Dark Lord's previous reign of terror in England, and it had been used as a base of Death Eater operations in America, what few there were at the time. Had Voldemort's triumph in England come to pass, he had been preparing to quickly move the bulk of his forces to the United States to take control there.

That ambition had fallen apart with the Dark Lord's ill-fated visit to Godric's Hollow, but the safe house stood, mostly unused. The local forces of law and order had never found it, and the Muggles didn't know it was there. Which meant it was still perfectly useful.

Hence, Pettigrew thought, it was a natural place for them to stay in while he and his master were in New York City.

"Did you see them, Wormtail?" Voldemort asked him quietly. "They passed not fifty feet from this place. The werewolf smelled us. They know we are here, in this city."

"They can't know about this place..." Pettigrew stammered, and trailed off.

Voldemort was silent for a moment. "No, no, they don't know," he said at last. "It is of no matter. We may have served ourselves well with this serendipitous turn of events. They will fear emerging from their own hiding place as long as they suspect we are looking for them. Curtailing their mobility here in New York will assist our own."

"But won't they tell their contacts here..?" Pettigrew stuttered to a halt again when Voldemort raised an eyebrow at him.

"Do you think we need worry about whatever forces may be marshalled against us, Wormtail? Save Dumbledore and Salisbury, there are no wizards or witches who can hope to stand against me. And you, of course, will not leave my presence unless you are in your Animagus form, so your safety is assured. They will not find us here."

"Yes, of course, my Lord," Pettigrew said. How long would this have to go on? Ever since finding Voldemort in Albania, he had never left the Dark Lord's side for very long.

Perhaps you should have never gone looking for him, he heard himself think. He quickly repressed the thought with a shudder. It would not do to think such a treacherous thing with his master nearby.

He had to keep down an ironic snort of half-laughter. Had he not betrayed everything he had stood for: friendship, freedom, and Gryffindor? He struggled to bury that thought as well.

What's wrong with me? He thought to himself. All the long years he had spent as the Weasley rat, he had never engaged in an inner debate about his turn to Voldemort. He had successfully tramped down whatever had remained of his conscience. Why, then, was it insisting on making a comeback, and why now, of all times, when he was, due to his circumstances, almost continuously in the presence of a most unforgiving master?

Because Harry let you get away, said the voice in his mind again, as unrelenting and as punishing as any of Voldemort's Cruciatus curses. Pettigrew risked a glance at Voldemort... what if he knew what sort of internal dialogue his least-favourite servant (but most useful of late) was having? The Dark Lord was busy examining the layout of the village of Mount Solon in a large scrying bowl, paying absolutely no attention to the miserable creature not twenty feet away.

Pettigrew decided he should get back to the task assigned to him earlier in the day: making sure all the wards and shields on the safe house were still up and running properly.

= = = = =

"Hardly a surprising turn of events," Dumbledore said after taking a sip of whatever wine was in his glass. They had finished supper, and were discussing Voldemort's presence in America. "He wants Harry as badly as we do - not for the same reasons, of course - and he received a ransom note as well."

"But what are we supposed to do about... him?" Hermione said, not quite bringing herself to say Voldemort's name.

"Nothing," Dumbledore said. "Lord Voldemort knows that, for the most part, we are here together, and he should easily conclude that even when we separate, I will be able to respond quickly if he attempts an attack on anyone else. There is little else we can do, other than not letting him intimidate us into staying ensconced here."

"If we can get our hands on Peter, though," Sirius said with a tone of menace in his voice.

"We will not harm him, first and foremost," Dumbledore said. "The punishment he receives for his deeds should be decided by the Wizengamot, and not by any one of us." His voice was soft, but there was an undercurrent of fire and steel.

"Of course, Professor," Sirius said grudgingly. There was a brief moment of awkward silence.

"Now, who's up for some ice cream?" asked Dumbledore, smiling brightly.