|
Grave Days | ||||||
|
Category: Post-Hogwarts, Post-DH/AB Characters:All Genres: Action/Adventure, Drama Warnings: Death, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Situations Story is Complete Rating: PG Reviews: 153 Summary: Front page: THE DAILY PROPHET 4 May 1998 WHERE IS HARRY POTTER? Despite the Official Ministry Statement (published above) we are no closer to receiving an answer to the question on the lips of every witch and wizard in the country. Where is Harry Potter? It appears that Mr Potter left Hogwarts School early yesterday morning, apparently in the company of his close associates Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley. An attractive young Ministry clerk, who did not wish to be named, told The Prophet “He’s at the Ministry, having an important meeting with the Minister. My friends and I saw him. He asked us out to the pub, but we had to turn him down.” This statement is at odds with a leaked report from the Portkey Office, which claims that Mr. Potter has fled the country, travelling to Australia with his companions. When asked about rumours that Mr Potter had been seriously injured and was being treated at a secret location, Acting Minister Shacklebolt said simply, "Nonsense." Hitcount: Story Total: 115229; Chapter Total: 7262 Author's Notes: Thanks once again to my beta's Andrea and Amelíe for their comments, corrections and input. Constructive criticism is always gratefully received. |
Previous Next |
|
||||
|
10: Deadlines ‘How did you know?’ Hermione asked. ‘The sneakoscope,’ Harry told her. ‘It was registering something, but it took me a while to figure out what. It’s a good thing I gave it to Ginny. I think she realised before I did that it was loudest when she was next to me.’ He gazed admiringly at his girlfriend. Ginny nodded. ‘When I got close to Harry that last time I wondered if there was someone invisible hanging around him. But he knew before I could ask.’ She returned the gaze of admiration. ‘Harry asked me for a distraction. They hadn’t attacked, so I thought that they might be trying to listen to him, so I gave them something to hear. What are we going to do with her, Harry?’ He looked down at the prone figure on the grass. Her jewelled glasses were twisted inelegantly; her acid green robes were muddy and grass-stained. Rita Skeeter’s arms and legs were rigid; as immobile as her curled blonde hair. He berated himself for not realising sooner. George hadn’t been joking this morning. Before their three-a-side Quidditch game he’d been reading the paper. Skeeter had promised the Sunday Prophet an exclusive because she had planned to come to this funeral and eavesdrop. But how had she found out where they were? ‘Ginny, take her bag and search it, please,’ asked Harry. ‘Hermione, take her wand; everyone else, wands away.’ After Ginny and Hermione had carried out their tasks and stepped back, he removed his full body bind curse from the journalist. ‘Harry Potter,’ Skeeter said ingratiatingly. ‘You’ve grown into quite a good-looking young man since we last met.’ She curled the corners of her mouth upwards, but her attempt at a friendly smile was as thin and brittle as her chipped green nail varnish. ‘You really must learn restraint, Harry, and try not to attack on sight. Assaulting a harmless reporter, that’s not a good idea, is it?’ she suggested. ‘Just think of the bad press.’ He stared at her, trying to keep calm. He couldn’t afford to lose his temper, not until he found out how she’d found him, found them all. He watched her struggle to stand. No one offered to help her. She had almost regained her feet when Ginny, who had moved behind the reporter, silently used an extremely accurate and low powered reductor curse to knock one of the heels from her stilettos. Everyone laughed when she fell back to her knees, cursing and swearing. Skeeter examined her broken shoe suspiciously. Even more dishevelled, she laboured back to her feet. Standing awkwardly on one heel and one flat shoe, she struggled to regain her composure. ‘You appear to be unbalanced,’ observed Ginny. Harry struggled to keep a straight face while everyone else laughed. Rita simply glared at Ginny, shrugged disdainfully and turned to Hermione, she held out her hand. ‘I’ll have my wand back now thank you, Harmony,’ she commanded imperiously. Ron glared at her angrily, Hermione simply smiled. ‘So you can try to escape?’ Hermione shook her head grimly. ‘I don’t think so.’ ‘You’re upset, I can see,’ Rita continued. ‘Harry ditched you for wheelchair-girl and then ditched her for the little red-head, did he? I really don’t know what he sees…’ Rita stopped talking, spluttering and gagging. ‘Tongue tying curse,’ Harry explained politely. ‘I’ll remove it, but I want answers, not questions, do you understand?’ Rita nodded, her face twisted in contempt. ‘How did you know that we’d be here?’ asked Harry, releasing the curse. ‘Harry, I couldn’t possibly give away my source of information,’ Skeeter said, smiling sweetly. ‘Of course, an exclusive interview with “the chosen one” might change my mind.’ ‘An exclusive interview will cost you five thousand galleons,’ said Harry without thinking. Ginny looked at him in horror. Rita Skeeter gave a wolfish smile. ‘Paid to the Society for the Assistance of Muggleborns,’ he clarified. Katie Bell gasped; Ginny smiled. It was an idea that Harry had been considering for a few days. An interview might counteract some of the wilder rumours. The payment would help Muggleborns; it would be worth it for that. ‘How noble,’ Skeeter sneered. ‘Just answer Harry’s question,’ Neville threatened. Rita looked at him contemptuously. ‘I see you’ve brought your fan club,’ she told Harry scornfully. ‘We’re not his fan club; we’re his friends,’ Luna corrected politely. Rita turned and looked at Luna in open disbelief. ‘Don’t be stupid, Quibbler-girl;’ she derided. ‘He needed you once, so he used you, that doesn’t make you his friend.’ ‘That just shows how nasty and selfish you are,’ snapped Ginny incandescently. ‘Of course, having neither fans, nor friends, yourself, I can see that you might find the idea difficult.’ She had opened Rita’s handbag and was busily rifling through the contents. Get out of there,’ Rita snapped at Ginny. ‘You can’t look through other people’s property like that.’ ‘You do, don’t you?’ retorted Ginny. ‘All the time, I expect. Look at this, Harry.’ Ginny passed him a scrap of parchment. It contained the dates, times and locations of all of the funerals Harry and Kingsley were both going to attend. How? Harry thought hard; only three people had seen the diary, himself, Kingsley and Brenda … and possibly Umbridge, he realised! He decided to keep that thought to himself for a while. ‘Have you given a copy of this list to anyone else?’ Harry interrogated. ‘Why should I tell you?’ asked Rita dismissively, not meeting his gaze. She has! Harry realised. ‘Rita,’ he said, ‘there’s every chance you’ve compromised Kingsley’s security. Who did you tell?’ ‘Kingsley,’ Rita observed. ‘On first name terms with the new Minister, are you Harry? I thought that this “at the Minister’s side” stuff was just a publicity stunt orchestrated by Shacklebolt to cover for his obvious lack of competence. Apparently I was wrong. You do like to tag along with the famous, don’t you? That old duffer Dumbledore…’ She stopped, shocked. Everyone around Harry had stepped closer, dozens of young witches and wizards had their wands pointed at the journalist. ‘Rita,’ smiled Harry maliciously, ‘have you met Dumbledore’s Army? You’d better be careful what you say.’ ‘This is a funeral,’ he continued fiercely. ‘A funeral for a friend who died fighting Voldemort.’ Rita still winced at the name, Harry noted vindictively. ‘Fighting for what he believed in, for Dumbledore,’ Harry continued, no longer bothering to keep his temper in check. ‘You know as well as I do that some of Voldemort’s followers escaped. If you have done anything, anything at all, that might bring any of the escaped Death Eaters to this funeral, I will do my best to have you sent to Azkaban for a very long time.’ While he was talking Harry had been thinking quickly. Tomorrow’s funerals had been well publicised. Notices had been placed in the Daily Prophet. Kingsley had, he knew, ensured a high level of security. Today was different. Apart from the young witches and wizards already here, there would only be McGonagall and Kingsley. No wizard, it had been reasoned, could find one Muggle funeral in an out of the way part of northern England, not when there had been no mention of it in the wizarding press. Was he being paranoid, he wondered? The sixth years, apart from Ginny and Luna, had travelled by Portkey. The DA had Apparated. Skeeter could not possibly have followed them, Umbridge was the only possibility. Better safe than sorry. He decided to confront the journalist. He’d made a fool of himself before after all. Harry looked around at the anxious and angry faces in the Creevey’s garden. ‘No-one but us was supposed to know about this funeral, but Rita Skeeter has found out; from Umbridge,’ Harry announced. Rita’s face betrayed the truth of his statement. He was now certain he’d guessed right. ‘Unless anyone else here wants to admit to telling someone where we are?’ Harry looked searchingly at the students he didn’t know. ‘We don’t know where we are, Harry,’ said Jack Sloper. ‘We came by Portkey, we could be anywhere.’ Harry nodded. ‘I suspect that Skeeter’s passed the information on.’ He ignored Rita’s frown. ‘There may be an ambush at Colin’s funeral,’ he concluded. The idea sickened him. The wands surrounding Rita moved even closer. ‘Who did you tell?’ he asked again. ‘No-one,’ Rita snarled, looking him in the eye. Harry was puzzled; he’d been certain that she had. Her latest answer confused him. Perhaps she was better at lying when she’d had a chance to think. ‘She didn’t tell anyone,’ Ginny observed. ‘But she passed a copy of the note to someone.’ Skeeter’s expression showed that Ginny was right. He thought back through his questions and smiled gratefully at his girlfriend. Skeeter scowled, but remained stubbornly silent. Harry fumbled in his pocket and found his card, he showed it to Skeeter. ‘Harry Potter, Trainee Auror,’ she read aloud, surprised. ‘So, those wild rumours are true, too. Well, this is news.’ ‘I’m arresting you for being an unlicensed animagus, for breaking into Azkabhan and on suspicion of compromising the security of the Minister for Magic,’ Harry informed her. ‘You can’t!’ Rita Skeeter was outraged. ‘You cannot deprive an honest reporter of her liberty on a mere suspicion.’ Harry hesitated, he’d spoken without thinking. He was untrained, ignorant of the law, could he arrest Skeeter? ‘He can,’ said Leanne Cowper. Everyone turned to look at her; she blushed at the attention but continued, ‘Article 16b of the decree for Ministerial Security allows any authorised law officer or Ministry official to arrest someone suspected of harming, planning to harm, or threatening a senior Ministry official.’ Harry looked at her in amazement. ‘There’s no such law,’ said Skeeter dismissively. ‘There is,’ Fenella Gray spoke softly, shamefaced. ‘Dolores Umbridge drafted that law, my father worked for her, he helped write it.’ Leanne looked at Fenella in disgust. ‘You’re Abraxus Gray’s daughter?’ ‘Later,’ Harry ordered. ‘She’s right,’ Leanne admitted, grudgingly, scowling at Fenella. ‘Umbridge was completely paranoid after your raid on the Ministry, Harry. She thought that everyone was out to get her.’ ‘Not quite everyone,’ said Justin, smiling grimly, ‘but most of us were. We simply never got the opportunity.’ ‘The decree hasn’t been repealed yet,’ Fenella added. ‘At least, I don’t think it has.’ ‘It hasn’t,’ confirmed Leanne. ‘The Minister hasn’t had time, what with the problems in Azkhaban and everything else.’ ‘Oh, sweet irony,’ observed Ginny; smiling innocently at the reporter. ‘You’ll regret this, all of you,’ Skeeter threatened them, pursing her lips. Harry ignored her protests and conjured thin cords from his wand. She collapsed to the ground, bound and gagged. ‘We need to check out the cemetery,’ announced Harry. ‘Now.’ Dozens of grim, angry and startled faces looked at him expectantly. He sought out Ron and Hermione. They nodded their agreement, though Hermione looked confused and Ron concerned. Hermione clung tightly to Ron. She was not at her best not thinking clearly. She was in no state to help him to make plans, and Ron was still much too concerned about Hermione to assist. ‘You’re right, Harry,’ Ginny confirmed. ‘It may be nothing, but we need to be sure.’ He turned to Ginny; Neville, and Luna were at her side and nodding their agreement. Harry smiled gratefully at his girlfriend, and made his decision. ‘Neville, use your patronus, contact Kingsley, let him know that we’ve got Rita Skeeter here; she’s wanted for questioning by the Auror Office. Tell him that it’s possible, likely I think, that she’s told others about this funeral, and tell him why.’ He handed Neville the parchment from Rita’s bag. ‘Justin, when do the cars arrive?’ asked Harry; while Neville quickly read the parchment and then cast the Patronus charm. ‘Less than half an hour,’ came Justin’s clipped reply. ‘Can you take me to a spot where we can see the cemetery, now?’ ‘Yes’ ‘Harry,’ cautioned Hermione. ‘Cloak please, Hermione’ ordered Harry. ‘I’m scouting, not fighting.’ ‘And I’m coming with you,’ Ginny blazed. ‘No, not yet, Ginny,’ Harry told her. ‘Justin and I will check out the area.’ Ginny looked at him carefully, she stared straight into his eyes. She was searching to make certain that he wasn’t trying to keep her safe again he realised. ‘If there’s anyone there, we’ll come back for reinforcements,’ he vowed. He held her gaze. Her eyes read his honesty. She nodded. ‘Okay,’ she said, in immediate, unconditional agreement. He smiled gratefully at her. ‘If you’re not back within five minutes,’ Ron began. ‘…you’ll get reinforcements anyway,’ Ginny finished her brother’s sentence determinedly. Harry wanted to kiss her, but their location, and the urgency of the situation prevented it. Behind the Weasleys, the grim-faced remainder of Dumbledore’s Army nodded in agreement. ‘Hermione, cloak, please,’ Harry asked again. Hermione opened her black handbag, pulled out the beaded bag and threw it to Harry. Opening the beaded bag, Harry waved his wand; his invisibility cloak flew out, shimmering in the afternoon sunshine. He caught it with his wand hand, closed the bag, threw it back to Hermione then motioned Justin to join him under the cloak. ‘Be careful,’ ordered Ginny as Harry and Justin disappeared under the cloak. ‘I will, Ginny, I promise,’ he assured her. ‘We’ve got to check.’ ‘I know.’ She smiled at him. Harry grabbed Justin’s arm. ‘Far enough away that no-one will hear us Apparate, but close enough to see,’ Harry instructed. Justin nodded resolutely, and with a crack, they left the Creeveys’ garden. They appeared on a small patch of grass. Behind them was a black asphalt footpath. On the other side of the path was a grassy bank led down to a river. To the left was an almost empty car park beyond which was a high grey stone wall. Harry could see the roofs of houses over the wall. A small wooden sign where footpath and car park met indicated the presence of a “Riverside Walk”. To the right the asphalt path ran alongside the river, heading upstream into distant hills. Directly in front of Harry and Justin was a steep grass embankment seven or eight feet high, at the top of which was a gnarled and ancient hawthorn hedge. A few yards to the right there was a V-shaped gap in the embankment. An ash track led up through the gap, rising slowly until it was level with the top of the embankment. At the junction of the track with the riverside path a second sign pointed to “The Church.” ‘This way,’ Justin whispered; quickly leading Harry up the track. It was straight, and screened on both sides by the thick hedges. After twenty yards they were level with the top of the embankment. Ten yards more and they reached a gap in the hedge. Justin pointed to his left through it. They were overlooking a cemetery and church. It was Harry realised, a beautiful spot. Directly in front of them was the cemetery, beyond that was an old stone church. To the right, another high stone wall separated the church from the back gardens of several large stone houses and an old school building. They looked carefully into the cemetery. There were several huge and ancient trees, oaks and chestnuts, scattered amongst the graves. Near the church the gravestones were old and weathered; those stones closer to Harry and Justin were newer. About one hundred feet from the church and two hundred from where they stood was a mound of earth; next to the mound a black pit stood silent and empty, awaiting the arrival of its occupant. The final destination, the last resting place of Colin Creevey lay patiently waiting. Harry stood for a moment, overcome. He stifled a sob. ‘It’s not your fault, either, Harry,’ Justin whispered, squeezing Harry’s shoulder. ‘Homenum revelio,’ Harry whispered for the second time that afternoon, then, ‘Muffliato.’ He turned furiously to Justin. ‘Four,’ he hissed. ‘They can’t hear us because of the Muffliato spell. Do you know Homenum revelio?’ Justin shook his head. ‘Missed school last year, like you, remember?’ he explained with a sour smile. ‘That’s the invisibility revealer, isn’t it? Ernie mentioned it; he knows it, he learned it in the DA last year. Hannah knows it too; she calls it “the barmaid’s friend.” She wanted to teach me, but we never found the time.’ ‘I’ll show you where they are,’ Harry told Justin. Despite his anger, he almost smiled; he was unable to imagine Hannah Abbott as a barmaid. ‘One there.’ He pointed to a spot next to the entrance from the side of church. ‘There.’ He pointed to the gate, leading to the footpath. ‘There.’ He pointed to a sarcophagus near the centre of the cemetery. ‘And there.’ He pointed to the rear corner of the church. Justin looked from location to location. ‘Surrounding Colin’s grave,’ Justin noted. His face, like Harry’s, was pale and angry. Harry nodded. ‘Now,’ Harry continued, ‘we go back, organise the DA, and ambush the ambushers.’ Harry was speaking calmly, but he was having difficulty keeping his anger under control. Skeeter and Umbridge! Between them they had disrupted a funeral. Harry held out his arm for Justin. ‘I’ll take us back,’ he instructed; Justin grabbed his arm and they left for the Creevey’s house. When they appeared in the garden, Harry swept off his cloak and threw it to Hermione. She caught it and, with fumbling fingers, put it back in her bag. A lot of people started asking questions, but Neville, Luna, Ginny, Susan, Hannah, Ernie and Terry had wands pointing at Harry and Justin. ‘What was the last order you gave me?’ Neville barked. ‘Contact Kingsley,’ Harry replied. ‘Well done, Neville, good thinking.’ Harry held up his hand for silence. ‘Well done, Justin, too, the perfect spot for scouting.’ ‘Bad news; there are four people, either under invisibility cloaks or disillusioned, in the graveyard. They’re all within thirty feet of Colin’s grave.’ The hisses and curses which greeted Harry’s statement were accompanied by several thumps and a nasal whimper from Rita Skeeter. Jack Sloper, Fenella Gray and several more of Colin’s classmates were backing away from her. Harry suspected that one or more of them had kicked the trussed and helpless reporter. He didn’t care. He looked around at the angry, expectant, faces of Dumbledore’s Army. They all felt exactly as he did, he realised. How dare someone try to mount an attack at a funeral! Only Katie’s friend Leanne looked unsure. She’d been at the Battle of Hogwarts Harry remembered, but he wondered how good she was in a fight. She was brave in her own way, no doubt; he knew what she’d done from inside the Ministry. But to Harry she was an unknown; would she be a liability in combat? It was time for him to make decisions, Dumbledore’s Army were waiting for orders. ‘I won’t allow this funeral to be disrupted, or cancelled,’ Harry announced, ‘so we split into four teams. Each takes one opponent.’ ‘Why don’t we just wait for the Aurors?’ Hermione pleaded. ‘We don’t know how long they’ll be. If we act quickly, we can do this. It’s twenty-odd against four. We know where they are and they don’t know we know. They won’t be expecting us.’ Harry looked disappointedly at his friend. ‘Someone will need to stay behind and keep an eye on Skeeter, the Muggles, and this lot.’ Harry nodded to the rest of the students, who had been listening eagerly. ‘We can help,’ Jack Sloper said. ‘Most of us are seventeen and a lot of us fought at Hogwarts.’ ‘Yes, I want to help,’ agreed Fenella Gray. Jack Sloper looked at her, astonished. ‘Colin was my friend,’ she continued, she glared at Jack and stood up straight and tall. She was an oddly impressive, even slightly scary, sight when she wasn’t slouching. ‘Look,’ said Harry, ‘you can’t Apparate. We can.’ ‘Ginny and Luna can’t!’ Fenella continued. ‘Luna can,’ replied Harry. ‘No she can’t, not legally,’ Hermione interjected angrily. ‘She hasn’t passed her test, she hasn’t even had lessons.’ ‘Daddy taught me,’ Luna informed Harry as the cause of their disagreement on arrival at the Creevey’s became obvious. ‘We don’t have time for more arguments,’ Harry told her. ‘Luna got you here without splinching anyone, that’s good enough.’ ‘We’re going, but it’s going to be DA members only, that’s my final decision,’ Harry told the other students. ‘We need you here anyway, to stop the Muggles finding out what’s going on. When we leave, there’ll only be half as many people in the garden as there should be. We can’t leave this place completely empty.’ Ginny’s classmates looked at him mutinously. ‘You can’t go if we don’t take you,’ he told them bluntly. ‘I’ll need at least one of the DA to stay here, too, and they may need your help.’ This poor attempt to pacify the younger students had been unsuccessful, he realised. They were still unhappy; but they remained silent, that would be enough. ‘Now,’ Harry asked the DA, ‘who’ll stay here?’ ‘I will,’ volunteered Lavender. ‘Then no-one need worry about me. Anyway, I can’t Apparate until I can stand.’ ‘I’m staying with Lavender,’ announced Seamus, to his friend Dean’s obvious surprise. ‘I’ll stay too, if that’s okay,’ suggested Katie’s friend Leanne, solving another problem for Harry. ‘Great,’ Harry said. Harry looked around at the rest of Dumbledore’s Army, his allies, his friends, the people he knew he could rely on. Groups of five, he thought. ‘We need four groups ... Hufflepuffs,’ (he counted four–someone is missing, he thought), ‘plus one more.’ ‘Me,’ announced Neville, going to stand with Justin, Ernie, Susan and Hannah. The Hufflepuffs smiled and welcomed Neville. ‘Ravenclaws.’ The six Ravenclaw students moved closer together. Only Padma Patil had any distance to move, as she was standing with her twin, Seamus, Dean, and Lavender. As she moved, she glanced at Parvati. Harry spotted her concern. ‘Padma,’ Harry suggested, ‘stay with Parvati; and Ron, Hermione and Dean, you’re the third group.’ Padma moved back to be with her sister while the other Ravenclaw students: Luna, Michael, Cho, Anthony Goldstein and Terry Boot gathered together. He looked at the remaining group (Quidditch, he thought). George, Angelina, Katie, Alicia and Lee all stood together. Ginny moved to join them. ‘Not you, Ginny,’ Harry ordered. She rounded on him furiously, about to explode. ‘You’re coming with me,’ he explained hastily. Her anger evaporated instantly. ‘Ginny and I will go in together and help where we’re needed. Hopefully we’ll have nothing to do.’ ‘Teams,’ he addressed the four groups, ‘we don’t have long. I want you to organise yourselves. They’re invisible, so, attackers, you should know Homenum Revelio. If there is a group who doesn’t have anyone who can use that spell, let me know now! When you arrive, I want someone in each team to cast the anti-apparition jinx, we don’t want them to escape; someone else should cast Muggle repellers, just in case; and the other three will attack.’ ‘Decide between yourselves who’s doing what; and do it quickly,’ Harry concluded. Harry looked at the groups; they were talking rapidly, determinedly, organising themselves. George had lost his surly, miserable demeanour; there was a gleam in his eye. Everyone was concentrating on the tasks they’d been given. He knew that they could be trusted to follow his instructions. ‘Harry,’ Dennis Creevey called dashing up the lawn from the house. ‘I thought this might be useful.’ He produced a sheet of glossy paper from under his jacket and handed it to Harry. It was a photograph, taken, as far as Harry could see, from a point in the air very close to where he and Justin had scouted the graveyard. ‘Colin photographed the whole village two years ago,’ Dennis explained. ‘Brilliant, Dennis,’ Harry congratulated the youngest member of the DA. ‘This is just what I need.’ He took the photograph, used the Geminio spell to duplicate it three times and went quickly from group to group. He showed them the locations of the ambushers, gave each group a target and left them a photo. ‘Which group am I with?’ Dennis called after Harry as he gave the last group, Lee and his old Quidditch team, a photograph and told them the location of their target. Harry’s face fell. ‘Dennis …’ he began; then he realised that, although he didn’t want to take him, he couldn’t leave Dennis behind. He looked at Ginny; she stepped alongside Dennis, put her hand on his shoulder and nodded. ‘… you’re with Ginny and me.’ ‘Let me know when you’re all ready,’ he ordered. ‘We need to …’ He was interrupted by the sudden appearance of a silver lynx. The deep voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt resonated across the garden. ‘Stay where you are,’ ordered the lynx, ‘I am organising four squads of Aurors.’ ‘Oh, good.’ Hermione was obviously relieved. ‘The Aurors will deal with it.’ ‘NO!’ shouted George. He Disapparated! |
| Reviews 153 |
Previous Next
|
