Chapter 18
Harry stepped through the DMLE floo seconds after an owl informing him of an emergency meeting had arrived, assuming he’d be the first. Instead, he was greeted by four accusing stares.
“Late night?” Proudfoot asked, an eyebrow raised. Savage crossed her arms, and Kai looked at him with interest. Elfie was wearing an expression that Harry couldn’t read.
Fortunately, Harry didn’t have time to respond because Cragg and Robards swept into the room.
Robards nodded in greeting. “I assume you’ve all read the Prophet?” Everyone murmured sounds of assent and a few cast blatant glances at Harry. Robards ignored them and continued. “In addition to a full confession, Greyback left us a helpful little note that gives us enough information to take down the other Death Eaters.”
“How thoughtful of him,” Savage muttered.
Robards raised an eyebrow but pressed on. “According to Greyback, Jugson and gang have three safe houses. One of these, we already knew about, and they haven’t been back since the battle. One is in Scotland, nowhere near where they’ve been spotted, and one, a muggle warehouse, just outside Ottery-St.-Catchpole. I suggest we swarm it this afternoon.”
“We have managed to locate the blueprints for the warehouse,” Cragg said. “It last went for sale in 1968, so we can assume it has some pretty powerful protections over it, probably made by Voldemort himself. We should be prepared to have to perform blood sacrifice to see the building.”
Harry remembered his trip with Dumbledore to the sea cave in his sixth year. From the protections on that location, he wasn’t hopeful that the only protection on this warehouse would be as simple as a blood sacrifice.
The seven gathered around a conjured desk in the centre of the room as Cragg spread out the blueprint.
“We’ll approach from a distance and attempt to take down as many protective wards as we can before they notice,” Robards declared. “Kai, Cragg, you will take the left-back exit, Elfie and I will take the right. Proudfoot, Savage and Potter, you take the front.” He looked up and caught everybody’s eye before turning and pausing on Harry. “Remember, we want them alive.”
Harry blinked. “Why does everyone think I’m hell-bent on killing all Death Eaters all of a sudden?” he asked, feigning curiosity. He’d never been a particularly good actor, but it was important for him to find out how much the Auror’s knew of his involvement last night.
Savage’s lip quirked. “Are you?”
Harry paused. Was he? George seemed to be. Hermione was staunchly against it. Ron, Ginny and Bill had seemed largely impartial, but, deep down, he knew that each of them would follow his lead. He trusted Hermione and Ron implicitly, but he knew that no matter the situation, they would always follow his lead. Hermione would break her morals for him time and time again and Ron would follow him to death’s door if Harry required it of him.
He glanced at the aurors in this room. He wondered if they’d decide follow him, like Ron and Hermione and Ginny and Neville and Luna and all of Dumbledore’s Army and all of the Order of the Phoenix had. He had no right to expect this, of course – he’d only known them for two days. He didn’t even want them to, he thought. He’d always hated his fame, had always hated that those around him always seemed to have to risk their lives for his. He thought about Fred. Glancing at Elfie, he was reminded of Colin’s still body after the Battle. He was so young – had so much in his future. He would have made an excellent journalist. A real one – not gossipy and corrupt and biased like Rita Skeeter, or as fundamentally mad as Xenophilius Lovegood (he loved the man’s daughter but Harry was willing to admit that they both were a little strange). He thought of Teddy and wondered about the life that he would grow up to have. What would he be like? Would he be a professor like his father? An auror like his mother? A criminal like Sirius (Harry certainly hoped not)? Whatever he became, though, he would be free to choose. Unlike Colin, and Fred, and Lavender, and all the other students who had died fighting for the world they wanted to live in – a world where Voldemort and his Death Eaters couldn’t and didn’t rule.
“A lot of people have died,” Harry said finally. “I’ll do what I can to keep that number as low as possible.” He didn’t have to voice that he would kill again if it made saving the lives of many.
Savage unfolded her arms and nodded. The rest of the group said nothing, but everyone was suddenly far less tense than it had been when he walked into the room.
“Get something to eat and suit up. Portkeys leave in an hour.” Robards instructed and left the room, his dark red cloak flapping behind him in a way that reminded Harry – almost fondly – of Snape. Cragg followed with less flair.
“Well, Potter,” Proudfoot drawled, smirking. “Who knew you to be such a utilitarian?”
Harry rolled his eyes. Proudfoot’s snide remarks were almost as bad as Malfoy’s. “You weren’t in Slytherin, were you?” he asked.
“Why?” Savage glared. “Got a problem with that?”
Harry smiled. Less than a year ago, he would have said yes, absolutely. But, with all that had happened, he couldn’t help but think that cunning and ambitious Slytherins were highly useful. “No,” he said honestly. “The hat was pretty confident I should have been in Slytherin, actually.”
Elfie raised a delicate eyebrow. “You are full of surprises, Harry.”
Kai rolled his eyes at the lot of them. “You all take house loyalty way too seriously,” he said. “I’m hungry. Let’s go and eat.”
Harry laughed and chatted with the others, barely noticing when they’d left the relative safety of the Auror headquarters. Whispers followed him everywhere, so Harry paid them no mind until they’d reached the stairs leading down to the atrium, and a dozen reporters started shouting his name.
“Damnit,” Harry swore, glancing at the others. He hadn’t thought to take his Auror robes off. “I don’t know if Robards wanted people to know yet.”
Kai clapped him on the back. “Well, they know now in either case,” he said and led the group down the stairs.
Harry ignored the questions that were thrown at him until he was in front of the memorial fountain that had replaced Voldemort’s ‘Magic is Might’ statue. He held up a hand to halt their shouts. He wished he’d had the foresight to plan something to say. “It is a great honour to be working with the Aurors. I understand that it is your job to capture this kind of news, but I implore you to remember that this is a place of work and understand that the people who work here are unable to do their jobs properly if you lot are camped out here day in and day out. I trust that you’ve taken enough pictures?”
With their nods of agreement, Harry continued. “I promise that there will be an opportunity – a more appropriate opportunity – for you to ask questions shortly. Until then, I’d be most grateful if you could treat the Ministry with the respect it deserves and try not to disturb it during working hours.”
The reporters took a few more photos and asked a few more questions, but, after it became clear that Harry was not going to give them anything else, rather guiltily filed out of the building.
“Sorry guys, I should have done a notice-me-not,” he said.
Savage grinned back at him. “Eh, mum will be pleased I’m in the paper. Besides, you got them to leave us alone finally1 Really, that should warrant you with another Order of Merlin.”
Harry rolled his eyes. “Please no more,” he whined. “The robes I had to wear at that ceremony were hideous.”
Elfie shrugged. “Witch Weekly said you looked most dashing.”
“Why on earth would you read that rubbish?” Savage asked accusingly. “That magazine is the singular reason Britain didn’t have witch’s suffrage until 1980.”
Harry blinked in surprise. “I didn’t realise it was that recent,” he said, shocked. He knew he’d get an earful from Hermione about not paying attention in History of Magic. His stomach curled at the thought that his mum had probably not had the chance to vote before she died.
“It seems quite unbelievable, doesn’t it?” Elfie smiled at Harry’s grimace. “I’d like to clarify, I do not read that magazine. I simply listen when other people are gossiping.” She raised a thin eyebrow. “There is nothing in this world that is more important than knowing what and whom people gossip about.”
Savage looked like she was going to argue, but Harry thought Elfie had a point. Gossip and rumours in the Wizarding World were nearly always false but were a good indication of what the common man was thinking, and Harry, Ron and Hermione had long since learned to keep up to date with whatever nonsense the Prophet was printing, even – no, especially – when it was about himself.
Kai steered them into the cafeteria and indicated to a large table. As they sat down, a plate of sandwiches floated over with two jugs of pumpkin juice. Proudfoot helped himself to two, eating quickly.
“Woah, Proudfoot,” Kai grinned. “It’s as if you don’t know when your next meal will come.”
Harry winced. Savage and Elfie looked distinctly uncomfortable. The war had left many with empty stomachs.
“Shit,” Kai said. “I’m really sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”
Proudfoot waved him off. “I’ve always been like this – never had manners. Isn’t that right, Savage?”
Savage smiled. “At Hogwarts, he used to be able to eat five slices of toast before the eggs even arrived at Breakfast.”
Harry grinned, reminded of Ron. It really was a shame that Ron no longer wanted to be an Auror – he would fit in well with this crowd. “I always loved that about Hogwarts – that there was always so much food.”
Proudfoot, Savage and Elfie nodded in agreement.
“What was Ilvermorny like?” Elfie asked Kai. Harry looked up with interest. He had always been fascinated to hear Fleur’s stories of Beauxbaton’s and Krum’s of Durmstrang when they were waiting impatiently in some tent or another during the Triwizard Tournament.
Kai shrugged. “Well, it was pretty cool – living in a magical castle and all that. From what I gather, though, it was a bit more like a normal muggle highschool than Hogwarts. We had to take a certain amount of non-magical subjects. Math, Literature, Science, Muggle History.”
Harry found himself nodding. “I always thought it was strange that we didn’t have Maths or English.”
“I think your friend, Miss Granger, is working on a petition for the Wizenmagot, actually,” Elfie said conversationally. Harry blinked. He was certain Hermione hadn’t mentioned that. He knew she had ideas for educational reforms, but had never really gone into that much detail.
“Ooft,” Savage laughed. “That’s not going to make her very popular with Teddy when he’s older.”
Harry smiled, but feigned indignation. “Teddy is going to love maths,” he declared. “And he’s going to be really smart and study and always be on time and never lose house points.”
“Good luck with that,” Elfie laughed. “My Kevin hasn’t even opened one of his textbooks in preparation for his OWLs.”
After lunch, the five of them made their way to the Auror changing rooms, where Cragg and Robards were talking quietly between themselves.
Harry made his way to his locker and opened it. Inside, along with his backpack and another pair of shoes that he’d brought the other day, a black vest had magically appeared.
Cragg slapped him on the back. “You probably won’t need it, but that vest is laced with protective spells. An AK can still get through, and a few seriously powerful dark spells, but it should save you from the worst of the damage of other spells. Fair warning: it still hurts like a bitch if you get a bombarda to the chest.”
Harry nodded and took off his robes, slipping the vest over his shirt. It warmed and stretched and tightened until it fit him like a glove. The almost tight pressure around his chest was almost calming in a way. Grounding. He slipped his robes back over his shoulders.
Robards came up to him. “I should’ve warned you about the press.”
“I shouldn’t have been prepared,” Harry said. “Does it muck everything up now that they know what I’m doing?”
Robards shrugged. “They would have found out sooner rather than later. Besides, it made a big difference that you were able to get them to leave.”
Harry nodded. He didn’t point out that he was the reason that they’d been camped out there in the first place.
“Right,” Robards said louder, calling everybody over. He pulled out three tiny shoes from his pocket and enlarged them to their normal sizes. He gave the croc to Kai and Cragg, the latter of whom held the neon green shoe out like it personally offended him. “Left-back.” He gave a bright red heel to Elfie. “Right-back.” Finally, he passed a black boot to Harry, Proudfoot and Savage. “Be sensible. Be quick. Bring them back alive,” Robards said calmly. He glanced at his watch. “10 seconds. Good luck.”
Harry, Proudfoot and Savage gripped on to the boot tightly as they started to spin rapidly and blinked out of existence.