Without Wand or Wire

Sarah awoke to the urgent pleading of a boy asking his father if he was alive and to please get up. It seemed a very strange thing to wake up to, until she came to her senses and found herself in an appropriately bizarre situation for such a circumstance. She was lying on her side in some grass, her hands bound behind her, and her feet bound as well. Next to her was the Dursley boy and his old man; the latter seemed to be out cold. She remembered now when the man had collapsed: that other man in the robe and mask had told her something to the effect that he was still alive because they didn't like to kill Muggles too quickly. ...

Kill Muggles? ... Sarah thought back to the conversations she'd had with Nym (what she called usually Nymphadora, as calling one's girlfriend by her surname just felt funny, and calling her "Nympho" wasn't something one did in polite company. ...) Nym often referred to non-wizarding types as Muggles, even calling Sarah "My little Muggle" when they were getting cozy. And Nym had said something, when talking about her work, about a really bad wizard who hated Muggles and "Muggle-borns", and had a bunch of followers who went around in masks, calling themselves "Death Eaters." ...

In masks.

Oh crap! Crapcrapcrapcrap. ...

Sarah could hear more talking. She managed to get herself up in a sitting position, and followed the sound with her ears. As she looked about, she discovered more campers tied up a little bit away from her and the Dursleys, to one side, and a bonfire to the other. The voices were coming from beyond the fire. She recognized one of the voices as the one who'd spoken to her just before she'd lost consciousness. Sure enough, she espied a full head of white-blond hair gleaming brightly in he night -- he must have taken his hood down. No wait, there were two such heads! Were they some cult of people obsessed with bleaching or something? Well, not that was bleaching was bad, she did it herself, although at least she added some colour to it. Nym didn't know how lucky she was, not having to mess with--

[Character study of Sarah ... ]

Focus, Sarah! she reprimanded herself.

She continued her survey of the surroundings. A little further off to the side, standing before the fire, was a very large, very thuggish figure in another black robe and mask ensemble. His arms were crossed, his wand in one hand, pointing skyward. She had the odd sensation that, beneath his mask, he was giving her the kind of look that she would find entirely unwelcome. There was a faint breeze blowing, one that was icily cold, despite the large fire nearby. And off in the distance a ways, she could swear she saw dark shapes floating about.

"Yech, I hate working with the dementors," she could recall Nym telling her. "Leave ya depressed for days, they do, all cold and creepy, floating about like ghosts. ..." Hadn't Nym said something recently about the dementors betraying them to join Lord What's-'is-name?

Ohcrapohcrapohcrap, think, Sarah! What could she do with her hand's tied? What could she reach? She could reach her boots ... her many-pocketed, knee-high combat boots, a punker fave. ... Had they thought to check the pockets? Maybe they didn't think enough of Muggles to bother. After all, what chance could anything a Muggle have stand against a wand?

When the guard looked to be distracted by things being said by their fellows, she carefully felt about for the compartment that held her pocketknife. Eureka! And that wasn't all she found. ...

Pretending to faint, she lay back down on the ground, using the big forms of the Dursley's to help shield her from view. Working fast, she freed herself from her bonds, but pretended to still be tied and unconscious when she heard a figure moving through the grass towards them.

* * *

Fae and Snape watched from across the street as The Boy and his entourage entered The Leaky Cauldron's backalley through its moveable-brick wall.

"Och, it's about bleedin' time, I'm bloody famished!" Fae remarked.

They waited for the wall to close again, as well as an extra minute or two, then opened the wall themselves. As it sealed behind them, Snape allowed himself to imagine eating dinner with Fae alone in the pub, without having to watch the Potter brat--

"So keep your eye out for that snowy owl, 'ey?" Fae said, pointing upwards at a white bird sitting atop the inn's roof. "She'll try to give yeh a warning if she spots anythin' suspicious."

Snape felt a rock in his gut. "You don't want me to come in with you?"

Fae gave him wry smile. "Well, Sevy, let's be blunt, 'ey?"

Here it comes ... The rock seemed to grow heavier.

"I mean, The Boy's not exactly a member of your fan club. He sees you, and he's likely to up and leave! I'd rather he stay in one place, instead of chasing him all over Diagon Alley. But don't worry, love." She kissed him on the cheek. "I'll be sure to send Tom out with a bite for yeh."

With a sigh, he settled himself against the wall by the door, opposite the dustbins. Poised to open the door, Faelyn gave Snape an encouraging smile before grabbing the handle and stepping into the tavern.

* * *

Pansy eyed the motley group of Muggles strewn about the ground in varying states of health. They literally stank of fear -- some of them had wet themselves. "Do all Muggles live like this?" she asked Goyle the Elder in a shrill voice, dripping with derision. She looked about. "Is every Muggle village as barbaric as this 'Robert's Grove'?" She prayed she was standing close enough for Dumbledore to have heard her through the Communication Glass in Goyle's pocket.

Voldemort's hissing laugh was like nails on a chalkboard to her. "No, young Parkinson, although I can't blame you for thinking so. This is just a 'campground', a place where Muggles 'get back to nature', as it were. And a perfect place for us to get back to our own true natures, don't you think? Come, my followers! This is supposed to be a Dark revel; let us get reveling! Draco, my boy! Why don't you start us off? Pick a Muggle and have some fun! But don't take any of those three," the Dark Lord added, pointing to Sarah and the Dursley men. "I have a special purpose in mind for them. ..."

"Ohhh, Draco!" Pansy cooed, taking his arm. "I've always wanted to try Muggle badminton!"

Draco smiled, and it wasn't entirely fake -- not because he really wanted to play, but because Pansy had just found a way for them to maintain their cover without actually endangering the Muggles too much. They might get banged up, but they would still be alive, and with an Obliviate Spell, they wouldn't even remember the traumatic experience. He had a fleeting thought that Potter and his mates would never be willing to do even a little bad for the greater good. It was a good thing he and Pansy weren't Potter or his friends then. ... "All right, I'm game. How do we play?" he asked.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore swore with a ferocity none would have believed of him. He couldn't make out a blasted thing on Parkinson's confiscated Glass with any real clarity -- had things gone according to plan, she would have taken her glass out of her own pocket and pretended to preen as she asked about their location -- but he could hear well enough to guess that Pansy and Draco were finally at their destination. Which meant they were in the proverbial snake pit -- but Dumbledore had no idea where that was at. He wished they'd come up with the idea of a one-way Glass sooner, and planned it with Mrs. Parkinson instead; Voldemort already trusted her, and would not have had her things confiscated. But it was Snape that had come up with the idea, when they had been discussing whether Draco and Pansy should go to the Revel, after everyone had already been called. The Parkinsons had already been on their way to it, with their own Glasses disabled to prevent accidental exposure.

Albus activated another Glass and contacted the Aurors' office.

"Any luck getting the tracking spell to work?"

"Yes and no, " Moody answered gruffly. "We can tell a general direction, but not a specific point. It could be just a few miles away, or a few hundred."

Dumbledore gave a heavy sigh. "Split the team into groups and have them start flying in a wide spread in that direction. Meanwhile, keep someone working on getting a better lock on Voldemort's position. Whether our airborne operatives or the ones at the Ministry find him first, I don't want anyone going in yet; have them call everyone in to the Apparation Point and wait for me there."

"Understood. Moody out."

* * *

Sarah watched in horror as two other robed figures conjured a badminton net and four racquets out of thin air. They handed two of the racquets to the younger bleached blond and his masked girl. Then they demonstrated how to make a Muggle float in the air, picking one of the fathers that had camped with the Dursleys to demonstrate. Sarah hadn't been particularly fond of that guy either, but it was still terrible to hear his cries as he was paddled back and forth across the net. The other Death Eaters decided it was great fun; some grabbed a couple of oars from the Muggles' gear, while others used their feet to kick the Muggles like they were playing football.

Sarah took the distraction as an opportunity to use the second of the items she had stowed in her boot pockets. Still lying down behind the Dursleys, she pulled out her cell phone.

* * *

Inside The Leaky Cauldron, Harry's party was already seated and trying to decide what to have when a waitress started yelling.

"Fae! Hey Tom, Fae's here!"

Harry's party turned to see what the commotion was about, and found the waitress in question waving towards a woman who'd just walked in. Fair-skinned and ruby-lipped, with her hair worn loose in long, black waves accented by the odd ribbon and braid, the newcomer was rather fetching. Instead of robes, she wore a black overskirt with a hunter green underskirt, a black corset with silver laces, embroidery, and piping, and, beneath the corset, a light purple blouse with bared shoulders. Adorning her waist a shimmering black, fringed scarf, festooned with glittering bangles; similar baubles lined the matching shawl she had draped loosely about her arms. She only wore sandals on her feet, and no jewelry anywhere.

[Enter: Faelyn Dagdha]

"C'mon in," the waitress told her, "and sing for your supper, love! It's been too long!"

Faelyn almost grimaced, but managed to give her greeter a wry smile. "I have coin, Alice, I dunna need to work fer it anymore." Just great. Apparently Alice wasn't a part of the Order; if it had been Tom that had greeted her, he would have known better than to draw attention to her. Of course, Fae knew Alice well enough to know that, while she was a nice enough person, she was also a loudmouthed gossip; doubtless that was why she wasn't in the Order.

"Pish-tosh, love, your coins'r no good 'ere! No, it's music we're after! Come on now, just one song! Old Bradley's left his lute, you can use that!" Alice gestured towards the table-space where performers generally stood.

The Boy and his friends were sitting very close by it. They were looking at her; she was afraid Ron remembered her.

"You can put your eyes back in your head now, Ron," Hermione told him, clearly not amused.

He blinked at her. "What?"

"Don't know why she'd turn your head that much anyway," she continued, pretending to be bored by the whole affair, but her friends knew better. "She's not nearly as pretty as Fluer."

He gave her a scoffing laugh. "Hermione, I was just thinking she looked familiar; it's nothing to get worked up about."

Hermione continued the act, saying, "Who's getting worked up? I'm just telling you to quit gawking at the poor woman, that's all," before taking a sip of her tea.

Och, Fae, maybe it's better if yeh do remind Ron of who yeh are she thought to herself. It'll get him out of hot water with his girl, and probably make it easier to keep an eye on The Boy. Besides, it's not like they'll know yer in the Order, or have reason to be suspicious of yeh being here even if they did. ... "All right, Alice, I'll do it, but give me a moment, 'ey?" And she headed over to The Boy's table.

* * *

Tonks nearly fell off her broom when her cell phone rang. Then she nearly dropped it as she tried to answer it. "'Ello?"

"Nym!" came Sarah's voice, sounding faint but urgent. "You've got to come over here quick--"

"Sarah, love, I can't, we're in the middle if something really important--"

"Nym, please, there are *snap*crackle*"

"What was that, love? I can barely hear you; you on the Underground or sommat?"

"Tonks!" Moody called to her from his broom, warningly.

"I'm at work!" Sarah told her, with a note of desperation. "Listen to me, Nym! Those blokes what you been lookin' for, those Death Eaters, they're here! They say they're gonna kill--"

Another, much louder voice broke in, startling Tonks nearly off her broom again as it bellowed in her ear, "HELP! HELP, PLEASE! SEND THE POLICE!" and then she could hear Sarah hissing angrily in the background, "What are you doing, you ruddy idiot?! Give that back!"

And all went quiet.

Tonks stared at the phone in horror, barely breathing. This had to be the single most thing she feared in the world: You-Know-Who getting ahold of someone she loved. And now it had actually happened. Only the fact that she was several hundred feet in the air kept her from flying into anything.

"... Tonks?" Kingsley asked, not liking the wan look she'd adopted.

"H-he has Sarah ..." she told him, dazed, and he had to strain to hear here above the wind.

"What are you going on about, girl?" Moody barked, his voice snapping her back to reality.

"I said You-know-Who has my girlfriend!"

Moody didn't waste time with comfort or pity. "Where was she calling from, Tonks?"

"R-Robert's Grove. I-it's a campground -- one of the ones we used for the Q-Quidditch World Cup last su-summer." She should have brought a coat; it was cold up there in the sky. ... She couldn't stop shaking. ...

Shacklebolt flew up beside her, his face grave. "Tonks, you gonna be okay? We need to get to the Apparation Point, make Portkeys. ..."

Tonks closed her eyes, trying to get her breathing under control. And as suddenly as her anxiety had come, it had subsided. She knew what she needed to do. She held up the cell phone, and pulled out her wand. "Portus!" She quickly tossed the phone to her partner before Apparating.

* * *

"I was not gawking!" Ron insisted, indignant. "You were looking at her too; does that mean you were checking her out, Hermione?"

That was precisely the wrong thing to say. Ron was only saved from a vicious verbal skinning from Hermione by the intervention of Faelyn.

"Well, well, if it isn't the youngest Weasley boy!" she clapped him on the back. "How's yer mother?"

Ron snapped his fingers. "Faelyn! I knew you looked familiar! It's been a long time!"

"That is has, young cousin -- well nigh a decade since the last big family gathering! I'm surprised yeh remember me!"

Hermione turned an interesting shade of rose, Ron thought. "C-cousin?" she squeaked.

"Third cousin, actually, on his mother's side. Faelyn Dagdha. But call me Fae, please!"

Fae held out her hand, and Hermione shook it, saying her own name meekly with her eyes a bit downcast. Harry shook Fae's hand too, saying his name as well, but he had an eye on Hermione, unable to hide a grin. When Fae shook Petunia's hand, the Potions Mistress fought hard to leave the disdain she felt for the woman out of her greeting -- she'd heard terrible things about Harry's upbringing -- but still managed it. What she had seen of the woman that day belied the stories she'd been told, so she wanted to give Petunia the benefit of the doubt.

Besides, there would be plenty of opportunities to poison the woman, if the rumors proved true.

"Do you live nearby?" Ron asked, diplomatically ignoring Hermione's embarrassment. "Last I heard, you were working at St. Mungo's, in the Potions Research department. ..."

"Aye, I did live here in Diagon Alley, for about ten years even, until just a couple of weeks ago. Now I'm living at Hogwarts. I'll be the new Potions instructor."

This time Ron did gawk at her -- and so did Hermione and Harry. "New Potions ... but we just saw Snape the other day ... is he dead?" There was a note of hopefulness there.

"Ron!" Hermione hissed.

Fae laughed. "Sorry to disappoint yeh, but no. Professor Snape is taking on Defense Against the Dark Arts." Ohhhh, it's a very good thing I convinced Sevy to stand guard outside. ...

Harry and Ron looked like they were going to be sick. "He finally did it. ..." Harry muttered.

"Well, look at it this way," Hermione started, with forced cheer, "At least now you can take Potions!"

Ron raised his brows and looked at Harry. "Hey, there is that!" Then something seemed to click in his mind, and he gave his cousin a wary look. "Um, you will take students with 'E'-level O.W.L.s, into your N.E.W.T-level class, won't you?"

Fae gave him a "You've got to be kidding" kind of look. "E-level??" She started to shake her head, eyes closed. When she opened her eyes, the boys were wearing twin looks of horror. She laughed. "Och, I'm only joking; course I do! But don't think that being my cousin's going to get yeh any special privileges, young man!" she added sternly, wagging a finger. "Now if yeh'll excuse me, I need a word with Tom before I sing for me supper, and I'm fair starved. ..."

* * *

Dudley had heard Sarah behind him, talking into her cell phone. In his terror, he turned and grabbed it from her, and started yelling into the phone, begging for help. Unfortunately, this meant he'd attracted the attention of the Death Eaters.

Dudley and Sarah were hit by several Stunning spells, Dudley, thanks to his bulk, taking most of them. The phone was hit as well, which was why Tonks had suddenly heard nothing. Goyle the Elder hurried over, and picked up the device. He had no idea what it was.

He should have made sure that Sarah was truly out of it.

She grabbed hold of her pocketknife and thrust it hard into Goyle's abdomen. By sheer dumb luck, she'd hit a vital organ. He staggered backwards, falling to the ground, and Pansy's Glass fell out of his pocket.

Pansy rushed over, on the pretense of helping, but intent on reaching her Glass. She fell to Goyle's side and fetched the Glass up, her back to the other Death Eaters. "This is Pansy Parkinson!" she told the little mirror, holding it close to her mouth. "We're at Robert's Gr--"

Dudley, being so much like a bull elephant, had shaken off the effects of the Stunning spell fairly quickly. He gripped Pansy in a headlock, causing her to drop the mirror and her wand, and her mask to come free. Dudley then grabbed hold of the knife, yanking it free of Goyle the Elder, who let out a howl of agony. The younger Dursley got to his feet, pulling Pansy up with him, and faced the approaching Death Eaters, his eyes white with abject terror.

Draco, who had been running after Pansy, and Goyle the Younger, who had been intent on helping his father, both stopped short and drew their wands.

"DON'T KILL HIM!!!" Voldemort commanded, still thinking to use Harry's relations to draw him out into the open.

The Death Eaters all looked about, uncertain what to do. To add to the confusion, Tonks Apparated into the field just then -- on the Death Eater side of the bonfire. She looked about, frantic to find her lover.

Voldemort had been expecting her. "SEIZE THE AUROR! I WANT HER ALIVE!" he commanded, and the Death Eaters scrambled to obey.

* * *

Fae drew Tom the innkeeper to the corner of the bar, out of earshot of the crowd. "Has Albus contacted yeh?" she asked quietly.

He nodded. "He told me to expect The Boy, and about the ... party tonight. If The Boy leaves, then I get to go to the party," he added grimly.

Fae nodded. It was nice to have an extra pair of eyes watching -- especially a pair that could get away with staring at the inn's inhabitants, since said eyes belonged to the inn's owner.

"Oh, and Fae, don't worry about singing," Tom continued, "Alice was out of line!"

Fae smiled. "Och, no, I promised. But I'll still pay for the meal, Tom." She put a handful of Sickles on the counter. Tom tried to protest, but she cut him off. "Some of that grand stew o' yer's, an' a mug o' hard cider. An' bring a turkey leg an' a glass o' mulled wine outside to Sevy, eh?" She turned and went to the table-space where the lute awaited. Arranging her skirts, she sat on the table, legs crossed, the lute in her lap, and, with long, burgundy-painted nails, began to play a sad, quiet tune, so she could keep an ear on The Boy.

* * *

Tonks spotted Sarah, and the two ran towards eachother, Tonks firing wild shots of the Stunning Spell over her shoulder. Goyle the Younger hit Sarah from behind, knocking her to the ground. Furious over what she had done to his father, and unable -- or unwilling -- to get past the large Muggle boy holding Pansy captive, he settled for pummeling her. Tonks hit him with a stunning spell, but to no avail; before she could try again, she was hit with a spell herself.

Fortunately, the cavalry arrived. The air became a storm of spells as members of the Order of the Phoenix came rushing out from the surrounding trees, Albus Dumbledore leading them. Some of the Death Eaters Apparated instantly at the sight of the enraged wizard who had defeated Grindelwald. But Dumbledore only had eyes for Voldemort.

Draco ignored everything but Pansy. He aimed his wand at the boy who held her hostage. "Let her go!" he snarled.

"P-put the wand down!" the Muggle boy responded, his voice cracking. He pushed the blade into Pansy's neck, drawing blood.

Draco lowered his wand. Dudley backed away slowly, dragging Pansy with him.

"Draco!" Lucius snapped from a dozen feet off. "Don't let the Muggle escape!"

"He has Pansy at knifepoint!" Draco protested.

"Oh for heaven's sake, Draco, learn your priorities! Let her die if you have to, just stop the Muggle!"

"NO!"

Lucius stared at Draco in disbelief. He shook his head in disappointment. "I'm sorry, son, but if you care that much about what happens to Parkinson, then she's become a liability. You'll thank me for this one day." Lucius aimed his wand at the retreating figures. "Ava--"

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

There was a flash of green, and Lucius stumbled forward, falling impossibly slowly. Draco stood there, breathing heavily, wand still raised. Time seemed to stop.

He'd killed his own father.

There was a great rushing sound in his ears, and then all was silent and dark.