Chapter 21. Two Are Not Alone   (September 22, 1997)

One night nearly three decades ago, Arthur Weasley had succumbed to the perils of firewhisky. The morning after that misadventure, he had awoken with bleary eyes to the unpleasant vista of a rough-hewn stone floor. Right then and there, he had very stringently and rigorously pledged a life of moderation, and had honoured that pledge faithfully ever since. This was why he found it so unexpected and disorienting right now to be examining a similar floor, with comparably unfocused vision and a head even more swollen and confused. At least his mouth didn't taste quite so foul.

Arthur's skull throbbed when he tried to think, but he gritted his teeth and did it anyway. He had to figure out why he was lying in a puddle of his own drool...

Uh oh...

Through all the blurry fog in his head, Arthur realized something fundamental: this was no firewhisky hangover. It was much much worse. He was still very hazy on the specifics, but there was one thing he knew for certain: the Minister of Magic, and the entire leadership body of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement including himself... had been deposed.

A few more details lurched into recall: he remembered slipping off to the Ministry before daybreak without waking Molly; walking down the empty corridor to the second level conference room; nodding politely to the dour hit wizards providing meeting security; exchanging morning greetings with Fudge, Bones, Shacklebolt, Chuffington and Sharif...

Passing through a door emblazoned: 'By Order of Minister: private meeting; do not disturb under any circumstances'.

Despite the sign, they had barely touched their coffee before the private meeting had been most rudely disturbed: the six hit wizard security detail had suddenly stormed into the meeting with wands leveled at the six executives they were supposed to be guarding! It was the perfect ambush: there was nobody else on the entire wing to intervene.

Those hit wizards must have been death eaters!

Arthur groaned in frustration. There was always some tension between aurors and hit wizards and it had been exacerbated recently because while Kingsley had been finding it fiendishly difficult to recruit new aurors to replenish his fading corps, Sharif had found a whiz-bang recruiter for the Hit Wizard Bureau who had pulled in more than a dozen new agents in the last two years.

Time to do a background check on whiz-bang recruiter and his much-vaunted recruits, perhaps?

A few more memories slogged their way through Arthur's aching head. The kidnappers had raced in through two doors. Fudge and Chuffington had tried to flee and had been stupefied instantly. Bones, Shacklebolt and Sharif had tried to fight their way out, but the room was fully of booby traps: the hit wizards had simply let them stumble into automated stunner triggers set up near both doors. With no better ideas, Arthur, had simply pretended he'd been stupefied; he had curled up on the floor near Sharif, and waited very quietly for some opportunity to do something useful.

No such opportunities availed: it had been a brutally efficient operation. The hit wizards had magically locked the doors, attached portkeys to all of the victims and in less than two minutes they'd gotten everyone out of the room.

Everyone. Everyone? So... where is everyone?

Despite his raging headache, Arthur's mind was starting to produce answers. He recalled now that they had all been portkeyed into some corridor in this building (wherever this was). Upon arrival, still pretending to be stunned, Arthur had chanced a few surreptitious peaks through thin-slit eyelids. He hadn't been able to figure out much about their location, but at least he noticed that Fudge, Bones, Shacklebolt, Chuffington and Sharif, all apparently still stupefied, had each been dumped into adjacent cells.

Was there any chance of rescue?

The clean, crisp operation within the Ministry building had left very little to chance, so Arthur had little hope of a quick rescue by aurors. That was especially true considering that damned 'do not disturb' sign on the conference room doors. Knowing the dearth of initiative within the Ministry, it was pretty well guaranteed that everyone not invited to the meeting would happily give that room a wide berth for... hours? Days? Yes, if the meeting went a bit long, everyone would probably assume that the Minister and his five highest ranking DMLE executives were obsessed with complex negotiations about something thrilling like protocols for seizure of substandard potion ingredients. The first clue that there was anything wrong, Arthur morbidly realized, would probably be when some usurper declared himself to be the new overlord of the British wizarding community.

Despite that depressing perspective, Arthur was sure he was missing something important. He was convinced he knew something that shed a different light on the situation, but his scrambled brain wasn't cooperating.

Then something strange occurred to him. If he personally had escaped the stunners that the others had been clobbered with, why was he so confused and debilitated?

Why indeed??

His head started throbbing horribly. He couldn't push his memory further right now without becoming nauseous. He shelved the question for the time being and instead tried to calm himself. He closed his eyes and drifted off for several restorative minutes of light sleep. Feeling a bit more functional upon awakening, he got back to work, but he left his balky memory alone and started to think about the present.

Could he escape? Could they all escape?

Not without help. If the others were as badly off as he was, they were definitely stuck for the time being.

Was there any way to signal for help?

Arthur was again struck by that sensation of missing something that his brain refused to divulge. Rather than risk nausea, he ignored it and tried to think rationally.

Could he send a patronus?

No, there was a death eater down the hall watching them. Travers, wasn't it...?

How do I know that?

The nausea threatened again, and Arthur realized that either he must be suppressing a particularly unpleasant recollection, or he had been partially obliviated. Again he trod lightly away from the memory and tried to devise a plan. Maybe he could cast a confundus hex on the guard and gain a little more latitude? Arthur reached as quietly and discretely as possible for his front pocket... but his heart immediately sank... of course they would have confiscated everyone's wands...

Wandless, and still feeling like he'd been hit with a ton of bricks, Arthur succumbed to despair. Slumping into a fetal position, he began to quietly pine over the people to whom he hadn't said a proper goodbye: Molly, Bill, Charlie, Percy (Damn! Why hadn't he tried harder to reconcile with Percy??), Fred, George, Ron, Ginny, Harry...

Ginny and Harry...?

That at least was a small consolation: less than eight days ago, Ginny and Harry had cornered him after supper in front of the Burrow fireplace, delaying his planned return to the Ministry by a good long while, bombarding him with light hearted chit chat that still, days later, had the power to warm his soul. They had casually caught him up on Ginny's charity work and Harry's teaching; they had talked about Muggle communications devices, all the while, the three of us were... pressing our wrists together. Pressing wrists together...?!

Finally, the logjam burst! That was what he was supposed to remember! That was why he felt so brutalized!

Arthur had just been dumped into the cell. Travers had gone down the hall a ways to talk to Rowle. Ever so carefully and quietly, Arthur had pulled his right wrist as closely as possible to his mouth and had whispered, "Audite me Harry."

"AUDITE ME HARRY!" his horribly amplified raspy voice had roared through the basement. Damn!! Some bastard had cast a hell of a sonorus charm on the cell!

He had looked up to see Travers and Rowle staring down at him with very unfriendly expressions on their faces. "Whut's it yer saying, Weasel?" Travers had growled at him from just outside the cell door. "Calling summat? Harry somebody? Harry Potter p'raps?"

Arthur had said nothing.

"Crucio!" Rowle had hissed.

Time had ceased to have any meaning after that: it might have been half an hour, maybe half a day. The cruciatus had come again and again. Arthur had eventually passed out without giving up any useful information because, thankfully, he didn't really have anything useful to give.

So that, then, was the situation: he'd been tortured; he was a terrible wreck... but he had signaled to Harry. There might be hope after all!

In order for there to be hope, though, he had better try to prepare himself for a possible rescue. He opened one crusted eye just enough to examine the cell door. It was a plain, metal barred door that let him look up the corridor... down the corridor. And there was nobody in sight!

He moved his leg. For experimental purposes, he intentionally kicked the wooden bench he was lying beside. It jostled and clunked loudly back into place. He heard one person groan and another cough. He breathed a deep sigh of relief: at least he was not the only prisoner left alive. He listened closely for other sounds... sounds of an approaching guard. After more than a minute's silence he was relieved, albeit also puzzled, to find that nobody was coming to check on them. For some reason, the prisoners had all been left alone.

Arthur tested all of his legs and arms, and confirmed that they all had a functional range of motion, although there were raging complaints to any exertion. He found that someone had taken taken all his clothes and wrapped him in a dusty old grey cloak without buttons or pockets. His bracelet was now also gone.

Arthur wondered how long it had been since he had triggered the bracelet. He wondered whether Harry had really received his signal? If so, had he also gotten ensnared in some sort of trap? Or would his dear future son-in-law materialize around a corner at some unexpected moment, with some wild plan for escape?

Then Arthur wondered something else: what in Merlin's name could be causing those ominous hissing and scraping noises coming from the ventilation ducts?

"I'm very pleased to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Malfoy," Harry said cordially, extending his hand. "I believe we nearly met each other several years ago in Ireland, but were never introduced."

Narcissa watched Harry closely. Her generally cryptic demeanor briefly flickered in amusement at his polite tone, but she didn't let it affect her voice. She extended her hand out to barely brush his fingers before withdrawing again. "Pleased to meet you," she said expressionlessly.

"I have lots of questions I'd like to ask you, and I hope we get a chance to sit down for tea sometime," Harry continued equably, "but I'm guessing that we're both in a bit of a hurry?"

"Yes Harry, we may chat casually at some point, but not now," she replied evenly. "I believe that there are some people in this house that you would like to find. There are others who would like to kill you. I might be willing to give you a bit of guidance toward the former and away from the latter... in exchange for two favours."

"And what did you have in mind?" Harry inquired, striving to restrain the suspicion that sought to creep into his voice.

"Requests of rather modest scope for a boy... for a man... of your means, Harry," she said. "Firstly, I wish to be freed from this house..."

"But this is your own house — can't you just walk out it?" Harry asked skeptically.

Narcissa shook her head. "No, my house has been expropriated for the war effort, and I am a prisoner here. The Malfoy name is not well regarded by the Dark Lord these days. According to him, if I was permitted to leave, I might provide information about activities that are being coordinated on the premises, and perhaps I could compromise the security wards. Anyway, they took my wand, confiscated all of our brooms, and the wards specifically block entry or exit by anyone except those specifically authorized. The wards were down very briefly this morning to permit a portkey from the Ministry, but otherwise this place is incredibly secure."

Harry and Ginny exchanged glances. "Okay, we're hoping to eventually get out of here too, so if we can get out, we'll bring you with us. What was the rest of your request?"

"I would like to request asylum for Draco and myself in your house of refuge."

"Wait!" Ginny exclaimed. "Don't tell me you're trying to get into Harry's house too??"

Narcissa cocked her head questioningly. "I'm not sure what you mean Ginevra. I was informed by Rose Parkinson that supposedly the two of you are operating a safe house for people imperiled by the present conflict?"

Harry nodded thoughtfully. "We are, and we're considering your request. Sorry for reacting that way — it's just that over the past few weeks, Draco has seemed to be obsessed with trying to, er, discover whether or not I have a private residence and, if so, how he can gain access to it."

A wave of angst flashed across Narcissa's face before she was able to restore her stoic shroud. "I honestly don't know what you're talking about, but I'm aware that Draco has been acting in ways that might seem irrational." She sighed deeply. "Both Draco and I know that his life is in terrible danger, but I'm afraid that he and I have very different ideas about what should be done about it. Ever since Lucius was driven into hiding, Draco has been taking on fool's errands in futile attempts to re-ingratiate himself with the Dark Lord. Draco will not share details with me, but I would not be surprised if he's being assigned ridiculous or impossible quests by Lucius's rivals within the death eater ranks. My own grapevine has confided that he's succeeded in nothing other than alienating as many people at Hogwarts as possible. Apparently the careless boy even managed to snap his own wand now, but given his track record he's probably safer without it." She gritted her teeth in frustration. "Lucius and Draco have always fancied bold, reckless action. They have no patience for my style, but I believe that the best way to avoid tragic and wasteful death may be to run from it; to go hide somewhere safe until the storm passes."

"I don't have a problem with that," Ginny agreed, albeit with a frown, "but I wonder how much longer our safe house is going to be safe? How broadly has Pansy's mother been spreading information about the place? Are all your friends talking about it now?"

"Certainly not," Narcissa vowed. "Speaking about anything like that is a fine way to be branded a traitor. Nobody in our circle is prepared to admit that a charity service of this sort is anything more than some devious plot to undermine the Dark Lord, and certainly Rose would never dare discuss it with anyone respectable..." She sniffed audibly, before continuing, "but it happens that she's secretly sympathetic to the plight of us outcast Malfoys and decided to risk whispering to me."

"Okay, I'm glad to hear we're not the talk of the town," Harry responded. "I can certainly understand that being a prisoner to death eaters is unpleasant, and that Draco will likely be very uncomfortable at Hogwarts until the hostilities end. If we get you out of here, we'll transfer you both to our safe house. But I'd like a bit more information on how you think you can help us?"

"I'll tell you the only way of getting into the prison block that would afford you a reasonable chance of avoiding detection," she replied.

Harry nodded thoughtfully. "Your thoughts, Gin'?" Harry asked.

"Getting in there undetected is half the battle, obviously," Ginny responded. "How would she propose we escape?"

"Exit by the same route you got in," Narcissa answered. "You disillusion me when you go to find your friends. Retrace your steps and bring them back here. Together we can bring down the wards around that window," she said, pointing to west wall. "This side of the house is mostly obscured from the rest of the residence — we should have a straight run across the grounds to the wood lot, where we can apparate away."

Harry and Ginny exchanged a calculating look. After a moment, they nodded to each other.

"Disillusion yourselves and I'll lead you to the ventilation grate," Narcissa instructed. "As soon as I show it to you, you'll disillusion me and I'll go wait."

"One moment please," Harry requested. He raised his bracelet and clearly spoke, "Audite me HART."

Ginny regarded him curiously. He met her gaze. "I just summoned the Order," he explained. "Ryan will tell McGonagall that you and I have gone to investigate a distress call from your dad. She'll likely bring a few members; she won't be able to get into the building and won't know what's really going on, but if they show up and sow a little confusion it might help our cause."

Ginny nodded appreciatively. Narcissa glanced at them briefly, but was mostly focusing on other deliberations. A minute later she was leading two invisible people along the west hallway to an atrium: a stately open expanse with crystal skylight and a large marble fountain.

Ginny barely suppressed a gasp at the site of the fountain, remembering precisely this location so vividly from her horcrux-induced vision of a couple weeks earlier. "Nagini!" she hissed.

Narcissa angled her head at the sound to Ginny's exclamation. Her eyes betrayed puzzlement. "Yes," she said slowly, "the snake is in the house. It uses these same ventilation ducts from time to time, so please be on the watch for it. The noise is unmistakeable: intermittent hissing, and the rasping of hard scales over rough tiles."

The scraping sounds from the ceiling grew louder as something approached the ventilation grate on the roof of Arthur's cell.

"Harry?" Arthur whispered, loudly enough to be heard over the rasping but hopefully not loud enough to be noticed outside of the cell block.

"Ssssss!!" came a hideous response that tore straight through Arthur's memories to a hideous experience from the year before last.

Arthur swore to himself as his eyes frantically scanned the cell for anything he might use as a weapon or shield. The only item of any possible value was the wooden bench. Pulling himself fully upright, he forced his complaining muscles to pick up one end of the bench. Raised on end, it was a little over six feet tall, and wide enough to use as a makeshift barrier against attack.

Noises from the ventilation tunnel grew louder, stopped momentarily, and then the grate rattled, shook, then crashed to the floor of the cell with a horrible clamour. The good news was that still no guards came. The bad news was that Arthur was greeted by an old enemy of his — one whom he had barely survived.

"Goodbye everyone," Arthur murmured to himself. "I love you Mollywobbles — be brave dearest! Bill, please take care of everyone — I know you'll do a wonderful job! Harry, I pray you're not coming to try to rescue me — save yourself for more important battles..."

Narcissa's directions were simple: descend the main shaft all the way to the bottom and then take the left branch, which would lead directly over the ceiling portals for all holding cells. There would be one ceiling grate for every cell.

The descent was fairly straightforward: an old but sturdy metal ladder was in place the whole way down. Once at the bottom, however, things became more challenging because of the narrow tunnels, but Ginny's years of experience with crowded Burrow dinners had given her a knack with extension charms and she was able to grant them a fairly straightforward transit. They edged their way along the left branch about twenty feet and came to the first grate. They looked down and saw, sprawled on the floor, a gentleman in brightly coloured Middle Eastern robes.

"Akar Sharif from DMLE," Ginny whispered. "Dad knows him."

Harry was just about to suggest to Ginny that she proceed down into the cell to ennervate him, when sounds of a struggle erupted a bit further down the row of cells. He rushed forward another four portals and gasped audibly. Tearing herself away from the sight of Sharif, Ginny bound after Harry, watching him begin to lower himself through an open duct. "You stay up here," Harry hissed urgently to Ginny. "I'll jump down and pry it off him. If I succeed, you stun it!"

"It??" Ginny gasped in dread as Harry disappeared through the hole. She raced the final ten feet to the fifth cell... and what she saw nearly congealed her blood: Nagini was coiled twice around something that was staggering drunkenly back and forth. Half of that something was a bench poised vertically. The other half was her father. Arthur was using whatever strength he could muster to twist and lurch his torso back and forth to keep wood positioned between the snake's gaping, hissing mouth and any of his vital organs. Harry was on the cell floor, urgently appraising the situation, trying to determine the most effective way to distract a snake who had a deathly fixation on its struggling prey.

"Let go!" Harry hissed, unconsciously slipping into parseltongue. "Let him go!" he commanded.

In shock and surprise, Nagini twisted her head away from Arthur, and locked her beady eyes onto Harry. Ginny spotted a fleetingly tangible distance between the snake's head and her father. Without conscious thought, a powerful stupefy ripped from her fist. Although the spell could have knocked the most powerful wizard unconscious, it had only a modest effect on the snake, causing it to sway in disorientation.

The snake's disorientation proved immensely fortuitous, however. Reacting with blind instinct, Harry keyed on the snake's rhythmic swaying and, without any obvious goal, slashed out at its powerful neck with his bare hand.

In the barest instant in which Harry's arm traced out its arc toward the snake, the sword of Gryffindor somehow summoned itself from his trunk, expanded to full size, and lodged itself in his grip.

The blade ripped past scales, cold flesh and bone.

A blinding flash seared Harry's mind; the blast of an anguished horcrux scream... but it passed in a merciful instant. Reptilian blood sprayed violently over the far side of the cell for several seconds, then everything: bench, Arthur Weasley, and dead snake, slumped to the floor in a quivering pile.

Harry shook the burning sensation from his head and looked around. He heard a couple of voices further up the cell block: Amelia and Kingsley were shouting! He turned his gaze up toward Ginny who was still staring in revulsion at the carnage. "Open all the grates, Gin'," he requested. "Conjure ladders for Amelia and Kingsley and get them to move west to the vertical shaft and wait there because we'll need to disillusion them. If you have time, please check the other cells for prisoners and ennervate them if possible. I'm going to cut your dad loose and we'll be up to give you a hand as soon as possible."

Ginny nodded and moved quickly toward cells further to the west, while Harry approached the tangle.

"Are you okay, sir?" Harry asked tentatively, as he pondered the safest way to slice through the constrictive reptile remains around Arthur's waist and midsection.

"I think I'll know better in a minute or two," Arthur grunted with a tense grin as he gasped for air after his tremendous exertion in fighting the snake. "And please call me Arthur, Harry."

"Yes Dad," Harry said with a relieved chuckle. He put the sword back into his trunk, because he preferred the precision of his magical cutting spells. Within less than a minute he had Arthur freed. Although wobbly and in a lot of pain, Arthur promised that he could walk and climb the ladder that Harry conjured. Harry held the ladder steady for him and shepherded him carefully up to the duct, before following.

In the half-light of the duct, Harry could make out Arthur, Ginny, Kingsley, Amelia, Sharif, and one other person he didn't recognize. All were making their way toward the vertical shaft. By counting the number of open portals, he reasoned that Ginny had already managed to free all occupants of the cells to the west of where Arthur had been imprisoned. That meant that Harry would only need to check the remaining two cells further east along the cell block. With this in mind, he called softly to Ginny. "Get everyone to the shaft, disillusion them and get them up to the atrium right now — I'll be up as soon as I've cleared the last two cells."

Ginny flashed him a quick thumbs up and began to coax the stiff and disoriented prisoners onwards.

Harry raced to the eastmost cell and found it empty. He then doubled back to the cell immediately adjacent to Arthur's and spotted a supine body lying on the floor. He pried the grate back and dropped to the floor, rolled the body onto its back and came face to face with... the man who had just sacked him: Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge.

Harry's eyebrow raised ironically for a moment, but he stifled the emotion as he ennervated the politician. Fudge's eyes fluttered erratically for a moment, then flashed open in shock as he came face to face with his saviour.

"Merlin! What the...??" Fudge stammered loudly.

"Hush please, sir. No time for questions — we've got to..."

"Thrashing's all stopped down 'ere," boomed Travers' crass voice from the stairwell. "D'ye figure her ladyship's done supping yet?"

Harry blinked and swore softly. Realizing that there wouldn't be time to coax the disoriented minister onto a ladder, he simply hissed, "Up you go, sir!" and finished levitating Fudge through the open portal just before Travers came into view.

Harry whipped his hand out and dropped Travers in his tracks with a nonverbal stupefy, just as Rowle's shocked face appeared around the corner. Harry launched another stunner, but Rowle was too quick, sprinting his way back up the steps."

Harry conjured a ladder and scrabbled up, to find Fudge sitting in the duct, rubbing his head. The Minister did not look fit for a mad dash through a narrow duct, and Harry didn't want to risk the pounding Fudge would likely get from levitation in the tight space. There was only one, albeit somewhat indelicate, way to proceed. "Sir, we have no time to lose — this may be a little rough, but I'm going to carry you out of here, okay?"

Harry didn't wait for an answer, but simply lowered his shoulder into Fudge's midsection, swung him gracelessly over his back, and staggered as quickly as he could through the duct back to the main shaft. He placed the sputtering Fudge on the ground at the base of the shaft and called upwards, "Ginny are you up there?"

"Yes," came her soft response. He looked up about forty feet to the open atrium portal; he couldn't see anyone, but realized she obviously had disillusioned herself as he'd requested.

"We're going to have to be efficient — the alarm's been raised. Please summon the minister up to the atrium, and I'll scramble up after him."

"Accio Minister," he heard her call from up above, and Fudge soared rapidly upwards with a terrified look on his face. Harry didn't disillusion him yet, because he didn't want to risk an accident in moving someone who couldn't be seen, so he paused a couple seconds for the body to clear half of the shaft and then raced up the ladder.

It was only when Harry had crawled through the vent at the atrium level and raised himself to a standing position at the center of a crowd of disoriented, invisible people that he recognized a flaw in the plan: the building was probably now crawling with agitated death eaters scanning every hallway for the sight of escaped prisoners, but he and Ginny were the only two people who knew how to escape; in order to reach the west tower, the prisoners would need a beacon — either he or Ginny would need to remain visible.

On the spot, he made the decision: both he and Ginny would proceed visibly. Because the owlery tower was remote, and had been unoccupied earlier except for Narcissa, Harry assumed that the death eaters they saw would most likely approach them from behind as they ran, so Ginny could lead the group westward and he himself, with the strongest shield, would guard them and, if need be, lead the enemy astray.

"Ginny," Harry caught her attention, "you're going to have to reveal yourself to lead them out. I'll follow everyone, guard from behind, and make sure we don't lose anyone."

Ginny materialized and nodded affirmatively. "Can everybody run?" she asked the disillusioned captives.

Six positive responses emerged with somewhat muted enthusiasm.

"Okay — let's go!" Ginny urged and took off at a fair clip, cutting southwards across the west end of the atrium, making for the west corridor. Harry stood for a moment, making sure via his aura perception that everyone was able to run reasonably competently. After confirming this, he raised his shield and followed.

The last of the captives had just barely made the right turn into the west corridor when four death eaters skidded into the northeast corner of the atrium and spotted Harry. Fortunately he had sensed their approach a split second beforehand; he screeched to an abrupt halt and fired a barrage of stunners before he was even consciously aware of doing so. Two of the death eaters went down hard; the other two, rather than continue the fight, ducked behind a pillar momentarily, likely pausing to signal for backup.

Harry took a quick glance around for additional fighters. Nobody else was imminently close yet, but he could hear, in addition to the footsteps of the prisoners moving ahead and to the right, that there were definitely more people running this direction from somewhere down the east corridor.

He took off running to catch up with the rest of his charges and was relieved to discover, via his essence perception, that they appeared to be keeping up with Ginny, although Fudge's breathing sounded painfully laboured. Following about forty feet behind the rest, he approached a dog-leg bend in the west corridor, determined that Ginny and the six Ministry executives were now out of any direct line of fire from the atrium, then glanced over his shoulder to check the situation behind him.

He'd been spotted: he could see at least a dozen death eaters sprinting to close within hexing distance. They were fanned out diffusely — it would be futile to try to hit them all with stunners, so he slammed his right trainer hard to the floor to come to a jarring instant halt. Several pursuers slowed themselves and trained their wands on him, but Harry gambled that they were still too far away to accomplish much since most spells in the normal death eater dueling repertoire required good aim. Not so for Harry however: he took a split second to concentrate his energy, then fired the most powerful, wide-impact everbero he could manage. He turned and ran without stopping to assess the damage but there were encouraging sounds of chaos: doors rattling on their hinges, chandeliers crashing, and confused, angry shouts. The sounds of pursuit had dwindled to nothing: the spell had likely been enough to knock several people down and hopefully inconvenience the rest.

Harry had run less than thirty feet when he suddenly heard a thunderous roar coming from somewhere to the north. He chanced a quick glance back and saw six death eaters: they had apparently evaded the worst effects of the everbero and had entered the west corridor, but had all wheeled about and were shouting in agitation. Another boom sounded, and Harry saw flashes of light coming from on high — someone was blasting the crystal skylight above the atrium. "Order of the Phoenix!" he shouted in relief. Perfect timing!

Racing to catch up with the prisoners, Harry helped Ginny shepherd the group around the second dog-leg turn and out toward the open door into the guest den beneath the owlery. Unceremoniously scooping up Fudge who'd fallen to his knees, Harry raced through the door and dropped Fudge onto a chesterfield. Harry locked and sealed the entrance, while Narcissa instructed Ginny in how to drop the wards on the west wall.

As Ginny finished cancelling the wards, Harry looked unenthusiastically at the opening: without modification it would be too small, and too high off the ground to permit a fast exit, especially considering Fudge's and Arthur's impaired mobility. "Everyone away from the window!" Harry shouted, waving his hands to direct people toward the the north and south walls. As soon as everyone was clear, he unleashed a powerful reductor curse that crushed an eight foot span of the west wall into fine sand. "Much better," he declared, ignoring several gasps from the prisoners.

"Narcissa, I need to reveal you, okay?" Harry requested. "We'll need you to lead the way to a spot where you know we'll be clear of the wards; Ginny and I will shield you as we cross the grounds."

Narcissa took a deep breath. "That's fine," she said.

"Okay everyone, this is it!" Ginny shouted. "One quick sprint and we'll be clear." She, and the now-visible Malfoy matron took off across the grounds.

As the other captives made their final dash over the lawn, Harry followed at a moderate pace, running backwards much of the way to scan for any last minute interference and to take stock of the Order attack that seemed to be occupying most of the death eaters' attention. He quickly confirmed Narcissa's assessment of limited sight lines between this wing and the rest of the residence; he actually had to veer off the path to view the bombardment, which was targeting the central atrium. Harry knew that the death eaters were aware that the prisoners had escaped from their cells, but surmised that the captors must still be counting on the integrity of their wards to keep everyone trapped on the premises while they dealt with the Order attack — a shocking tactical error that someone would likely pay dearly for! Regardless of the precise scenario, nobody was tailing, or even watching, as Narcissa and Ginny led everyone over the last few feet of lawn and disappeared into the trees.

They were free!

Joining up with Ginny, Harry helped her cancel the disillusionment spells on the Ministry executives. Chuffington and Fudge immediately launched into enthusiastic expressions of gratitude, but Harry raised his hand firmly to cut them off. "No time for that yet please — we really need to get clear of the estate before anybody congratulates anyone! Voldemort will be furious when he pieces together what's happened. If anybody inside starts issuing any sensible orders, those death eaters are going to forget about the Order ruse in an instant and head straight west to find us, so we need to move!" He gazed around at the anxious faces. "I want everyone to go straight to St. Mungo's as a precaution. Now, does anyone besides Ginny or me have a wand?"

No hands went up; people exchanged nervous glances and began to anxiously calculate how long it would take to side-along apparate everyone in shifts.

"That's okay — I can portkey us all out," Harry assured them. "Narcissa, I want you to wear this," Harry switched his HART bracelet mode from from field to monitor and placed it on Narcissa's wrist. "Now please bump your bracelet with Ginny's."

Ginny quickly intuited Harry's plan. "I'll apparate to St. Mungo's and signal Narcissa in, right?" she queried.

"Exactly!" Harry affirmed. "We'll make sure everyone here is touching Narcissa's bracelet, and that will transport them to safety."

"Great!" Ginny exclaimed.

She was just about to disapparate, when Harry waved. "Gin', I need to go let the Order know that they can stand down. I'll meet you at the hospital in twenty minutes or so, okay?"

She nodded. "Please take care Harry! We're so close to pulling this off, I don't want to lose you at the last minute!"

"You bet!" Harry assured her. "See you in a few!"

Ginny disapparated and, after Harry had shown Narcissa how to activate the portkey, everyone else vanished.

Suddenly all alone in the wood lot, Harry finally allowed himself a deep sigh and a smile. He gazed eastward toward a small hill near the main drive in front of the residence where Moody, Lupin, Bill, Hestia Jones, Dedalus Diggle, Emmeline Vance and McGonagall were still launching a barrage of powerful percussive spells at the Malfoy wards. Harry felt a surge of blended guilt and gratitude: they had come; they had arrived in numbers with almost no idea of what to expect, or even what the mission entailed other than some vague notion that they were needed. Ryan had probably told them that it was a possible kidnapping; if so every moment spent ineffectually battering the mansion's powerful wards probably made their effort feel ever more futile. But in fact, every noisy, ineffectual moment they had pounded at the wards had been sweet, beautiful distraction to Harry's ears.

"I wonder if they'll be surprised to see me?" Harry wondered aloud as he spun around and apparated ten feet behind Moody.

After updating and relieving the elated Order members, Harry left for St. Mungo's with Bill in tow. By the time they arrived, all prisoners had already been quickly examined and released, except for Arthur who required an overnight regimen of restorative draughts to counter the residual effects of the cruciatus curse, as well as elementary healing for several broken ribs. An orderly met them at the reception and offered to take them directly back to Arthur's room.

Harry had barely taken a step inside the door, when Molly tackled him. "Eep," he squeeked as he felt his feet leave the ground. "Er, is this how you broke your ribs, Arthur?" he joked breathlessly.

"Ha! Such cheek!" Molly huffed, but her attempted pique was no match for the vibrant smile on her face. "But thank you so so so much for yet another Weasley rescue, Harry! Whenever are you going to learn that we're supposed to be protecting you?!"

Harry laughed happily. He threw an arm around Ginny and squeezed his beautiful and unshakeable partner. "It wasn't all me. The Order arrived at the perfect time to spare us a clean escape, and there's no way I could have done it without Narcissa and..."

Did Molly know about Ginny's role? It just occurred to Harry that in making the snap decision to respond to Arthur's signal, he had not considered how Molly would respond to her only daughter stepping willingly into the middle of a perilous mission. It now seemed like second nature to involve Ginny, since she had been steadfastly at his side through so much excitement in the last six months, but this affair had been exceptionally risky and voluntary.

"And Ginny," Molly finished for him.

Obviously it's no secret.

Harry couldn't read Molly's tone and expression, so he forged ahead. "Ginny was absolutely brilliant this morning," he declared simply and earnestly.

Molly nodded solemnly. It was a while before she spoke, but when she did, her words came out evenly. "Of course she was brilliant — she's half Prewett, isn't she?" Molly said with a small smile, seasoned with sad recollections. She sighed deeply. "I realize that Arthur signaled you, Harry, and we know that you and Ginny are nearly inseparable, so we can't exactly scold you for endangering yourselves. No mother wants her children to see and experience such horrible things," she added, turning her gaze from Ginny to Harry and back again. "But any mother should be frightfully proud of children so brave and resourceful."

Harry grinned and little sparkles of moisture collected at the corners of Ginny's eyes. The three of them embraced as Bill and Arthur nodded knowingly to each other. "I'm so utterly grateful that the three of you somehow managed to get in there and save him," Molly said softly.

"The three of us!" Harry repeated, jolted back to other concerns. "Where is Narcissa?"

"She's in the waiting room just around the corner, dear," Molly replied. "I can go find her if you need her?"

Harry nodded. "Yes please! I need for her to stay in our presence at all times until we get her to the safe house. As soon as Riddle figures out what really happened this morning, she's going to be in mortal peril. Because of that, I'm afraid I'll probably need to keep my visit here short so that I can get her safely under cover as soon as possible."

"We understand perfectly," Molly assured him as she left to retrieve Narcissa.

Discussion paused as a healer's aid entered quickly to administer one of Arthur's potions. After he had consumed the draught, he turned his attention back to Harry with a fond smile. "You've really outdone yourself, son," he exclaimed. "Extraordinary operation — that sort of daring and efficiency, and the fact that you saved the Minister's life, is probable grounds for Order of Merlin. Or that's what Amelia hinted to me right before she left."

Harry shook his head. "There's no point in discussing any of that yet. The wasp's nest was already stirred up before this morning and I'd wager that they're spitting mad now. I think they'll be demanding a lot of our attention for the next while.

As Ginny gazed around the room, her smile waned a bit. "I'm a little surprised nobody else waited around to thank Harry," she said with a hint of disappointment.

"No, but they all offered sincere regrets," Arthur conveyed. "It was critical to get them all back to the Ministry immediately to prove to the world that they were alive, and that the Ministry was still in their hands. Supposedly there was a big panic about an hour ago because one of the bureaucrats — a bloke by the name of Pius Thicknesse — issued a statement saying that Fudge and all the top DMLE brass had resigned and fled the country. Fudge ordered everyone to schedule immediate public appearances, restore control over their departments and begin to gauge how many traitors have infiltrated the ranks."

Narcissa entered the room. She nodded in reserved politeness to the occupants then quickly moved to a quiet corner in order to make way for an influx of Weasleys immediately behind her. Molly followed with two tall redheads: a slightly bewildered looking Ron and a tense, contrite Percy.

"Father!" Percy exclaimed, with a pained expression.

"Percy," Arthur said softly in a tone lingering somewhere between sorrow and wistful affection. "I've been thinking a lot about you." He paused for emotive reflection. "I was thinking that we can't let this fester any longer. I'm not certain what needs to be done to put things right, but I do know that we absolutely have to reconcile right now, before anything else happens to either one of us, do you understand?" Arthur's face spread into a grin. "Especially considering the sort of dangerous line of work we're in."

Percy winced through the entire statement and missed the lighthearted humour as he strove to keep his emotions in check. After a moment of paralysis, he simply surrendered. He crossed to the bed and, taking care to avoid the bandages, he lowered his head and one arm across his father's chest and began sobbing. Arthur gingerly wrapped an arm over his son's shoulder, to comfort him.

Ron quietly beckoned Molly, Bill, Ginny and Harry toward the door, and the five of them stepped outside to give father and son a quiet moment.

"Percy had a rough morning," Ron whispered as they assembled in the hall, "When McGonagall brought me up to the headmaster's office to floo here to see Dad, we caught Percy in the middle of a call with one of Fudge's handlers. The bloke told Percy that Fudge wanted Harry reinstated at Hogwarts immediately and here's how he phrased it:..." Ron paused for a moment to assemble his best imitation of a stuffed shirt, "'The Minister expects the Hogwarts Executive Administrator to take full responsibility for the egregious act of firing Potter'. So right in front us us, Percy arched his back and told Fudge's chum, 'I would be more than happy to reinstate Potter and take full responsibility for whatever other bloody nonsense the Minister wants to pin on me.'" Shock descended over everyone's faces as Ron finished by saying, "Percy then resigned from the Ministry effective immediately and broke the floo connection."

"Oh dear," Molly moaned.

Harry stared down the hall grimly. "Typical bureaucratic conservation of misery," he grumbled. "There's no way they can ever praise one person without slamming someone else!"

The group descended into awkward silence before Harry spoke again. "Listen everyone," he said, "there's much here that needs to be said; there's healing that needs to be fostered, but I'm afraid I have a very pressing issue that can't be postponed — I need to get Narcissa and Draco hidden before anything happens to them. Ginny, it would be great if you would stay here with your family for a while, but do you suppose you and Ron could try to make it back to the castle again by mid-afternoon? There are loads of things I need your help on. Could you also let Percy know that I'd also really value his help if he's willing to talk to me?"

"Absolutely!" Ginny answered. "Thank you for always knowing how to deal with us Weasleys, Harry!" she exclaimed with a smile before catching him in a tight embrace. She kissed him deeply, but pulled away before either of them could get lost in the moment. There was just too much to do!

Harry smiled, conveyed his fond farewells to the gathered family and left to escort Narcissa away.

"Operative Greengrass reporting, SIR!"

Harry looked up from the late lunch that he was taking in his office and burst out laughing at the snappy salute. "Cut it out, Daphne," he said with a grin. "Grab a seat," he exhorted, clearing a space among the pile of reports that Ryan, Quinn, Laura and Hermione had dumped on his desk. "Antipasto?" he asked, pushing a plate in her direction.

"Hmmm..." she said. Her fingers hovered over the plate for a moment like a browsing honeybee. She grabbed two small squares of focaccia and began to assemble a diminutive sandwich. "Mission accomplished, sir: cargo has been delivered and does not appear to be too cranky," she declared as she scrutinized her creation.

"Oh good," Harry sighed. "Draco didn't make a big fuss?"

"Ferret seems to like new den better than Snape-hole," she said in between munches.

Harry smiled. "Are you in frequent contact with Sally?" he asked. "Because if Draco gives her any flack, I want to know about it."

"We exchange daily owls," Daphne assured him, "and I already told him that if he causes trouble I will personally incinerate ever one of his eyebrow hairs. One at a time. Intra folliculus..." she grinned evilly. "Henceforth, I do not expect any problems," she added casually as she spied an olive and speared it deftly. "Oh, and you may be interested to hear that the goon squad has now disappeared as well."

"Goon squad? You mean Crabbe, Goyle and Bulstrode are gone?" Harry asked.

Daphne nodded. "Three little duckies waddled out the front entrance this morning before breakfast and haven't been seen since," she declared as she added a mozzarella cube to her toothpick.

Harry thought about the news for a moment. "Is Snape glad to have his office back?" he asked, knowing that Daphne always seemed to know what was going on in the dungeons.

Daphne's eyes narrowed. "I don't know. Snape did not show up for any classes today. That's not too shocking considering you and McGonagall missed lectures too and half the upper level students skipped class, but... let me think..." She closed her eyes for a long moment. "No, he hasn't been seen at meals or in his office since the little drama on Saturday night..."

Harry frowned deeply. "Gone too?" he wondered.

"Probably," Daphne admitted with a troubled look on her face.

Harry sighed deeply. "If they're all truly gone and aren't just faking their absence, then I guess it's good news and bad news. The good news is that all of the most likely saboteurs are out of our hair..."

"The bad news," Daphne continued for him as she tracked down an elusive pepperoncini, "is that the rats have abandoned ship."

"Harry, I would like to personally thank you for your courageous action that saved my father's life," Percy declared gravely as a troop of Weasleys entered Harry's office later that afternoon. Apart from Charlie (still in Romania), Arthur and Molly (at St. Mungo's) the whole family had gathered in front of his desk.

"You're welcome, Percy," Harry responded, "I trust you've already thanked Ginny, who was just as responsible as I was?"

"Of course I have thanked Ginevra..." Percy replied. Harry cast a glance furtively across the room to where Ginny stood with a bemused look on her face. Percy cleared his throat, and continued, "I'm grateful to you both equally, but given my recent behavior toward you, Harry, I feel compelled to extend a public olive branch."

"The gesture is accepted and appreciated," Harry mused genially. "We're glad to have your eminent skills back on the right side."

Percy blushed modestly, before shifting gears. "Ronald informed me that you believe I might actually be of value to your plans?"

"Yes," Harry declared enthusiastically. He reached behind his desk, retrieved a box and proceeded to sweep the pile of reports from his desktop into it. He handed the overflowing box to Percy. "Detailed castle defence plans," Harry explained. "I've skimmed everything briefly; I have some opinions on some of the plans, but I would like a fresh eye to scrutinize them before we consider any changes. Could you please run through everything with a devil's advocate mentality, and give me your frank opinion on anything in there that concerns you?"

"I'd be delighted to," Percy said earnestly, accepting the box. "Where should I work?"

"Do you remember where the DADA classroom is at the end of this hallway?" Harry asked. Percy nodded. "Great," Harry continued, "We've set that as our base of operations. Feel free to take any unclaimed desk."

Percy nodded and began to make his way out the door, but Harry stopped him. "Percy, I expect that my own role in things may well take me outside of the castle as things progress. If you spot a problem and can't track me down, please don't hesitate to discuss it with either Ron or with Ryan Jenkins. Ryan will be the busybody overseeing things in the DADA classroom."

Percy regarded Harry for a moment; he opened his mouth as if about to ask a question, but then merely nodded. "Understood Harry," he said, and made his way down the hall.

Harry smiled at the remaining Weasleys. Ron and Bill were standing sombrely; Ginny was sitting casually on the window sill with an amused smile on her face, and the twins were fidgeting mischievously. "So, are my favourite entrepreneurs here to help?" Harry inquired of the twins.

"With vim and vigour!" Fred proclaimed.

"Gusto and zeal!" George added.

"Great!" Harry said. "I'm afraid I haven't had time to dream up any exciting mission for you, but am prepared to leave you to your own devices. You can flip through some of the plans and reports that Percy's reading, or maybe just hang around the control centre looking for opportunities to improvise. Is that too ill-defined for you?"

"Absolutely not," Fred opined.

"No," George added, "Your open-ended request will be met with gloriously unconventional flourishes."

"Perfect!" Harry laughed. "Go forth and flourish to your heart's content!"

The twins winked and made their way out into the hallway. Whispers and laughter receded in the distance as they went.

"I'd better go too," Ron said. "I'm way behind on the tactical modifications I needed to make." He groaned weakly. "It's going to be a long night."

"It will be for all of us, Ron," Harry responded with a stoic face. "I appreciate the effort! I'd like to drop by after supper and run through your preliminary plans with you, Ryan, Ginny and maybe Percy if that's okay?"

Ron went suddenly very wide-eyed. "Oh! In that case, I really need to get cracking then!" He scurried off down the hall.

Bill had been standing toward one side of the office in silence, seemingly lost in his own contemplations. At Ron's departure he, too, began to move toward the door.

"Bill is at Hogwarts by McGonagall's invitation," Ginny clarified from her perch. "He and she are our Order representatives for the time being."

Bill nodded. "Sorry I haven't been the life of the party. I've had a lot on my mind."

"No worries, Bill," Harry assured him. "If you or McGonagall need anything, please drop by the classroom."

"Thanks Harry," Bill replied. "In return is there anything I can help with?"

"Well," Harry pondered, "I would expect McGonagall will keep you busy enough, but if you find you have any free time, then it would be wonderful if you could track down Laura Madley, Lucia Blevins or Jimmy Peakes and tell them that you're an expert at wards."

"Will do," Bill responded as he scribbled the names down. "On that note, I should probably go confer with Minerva. I'll track down your students later and plan on catching up with you tonight?"

"Sounds good," Harry answered. "Oh, but hey — do you know if Remus or any other Order members are going to be joining us?"

Bill paused by the office door in thought for a moment. "Remus will be here soon. He dropped by to visit Dad not long after you left St. Mungo's. We discussed the situation briefly. Basically Remus, McGonagall and I all tend to trust your assessment that Hogwarts is in imminent danger, but all of the other Order members, Dad included, are more of the opinion that Voldemort will slink into the shadows for a while after today's debacle. If anything overtly exciting happens up here, the Order will swing into action and support you in full force, but for the time being, most of them are optimistically taking time to breathe a sigh of relief."

"They're breathing easy because they don't know about the horcrux situation," Ginny stated bluntly.

Bill turned to stare at her as he puzzled it out. "Merlin's beard!" he gasped. "The snake!"

Harry nodded. "Nagini's dead — Riddle is running out of lives! If our figuring is correct, that was the last horcrux he had that is not under our direct control."

Bill whistled. "Do you think he's panicked enough to thrash around blindly then?"

"Almost," Harry replied. "The fact that he's not attacked us yet suggests to me that he hasn't progressed to full-blown panic yet. I suspect that he's spending a little time checking the status his horcruxes. He knows that the diary, the ring and the snake have been destroyed. He probably doesn't know the exact status of the cup. Kreacher told me that the locket that we took custody of was placed under exceptionally powerful wards in a seaside cave somewhere on the east coast. Perhaps he's gone off to check on that right now?"

Bill frowned as he did the math. "Where did he hide the final horcrux?" he asked.

"Right here in Hogwarts," Ginny replied.

Bill swore under his breath. "So even if he wasn't obsessed with trying to kill Harry... even if he hadn't figured out that you two were collecting his toys... he'd still come charging up here yelling bloody murder and demanding his dainty little tiara back?!"

Harry and Ginny nodded solemnly.

"I'd better ask Minerva if we can get more Phoenix members up here," Bill resolved. "This really is going to be the flash point!"

"I'm convinced that things are going to get very nasty very quickly," Harry agreed. "The more Order support, the better! I wonder about aurors? Do you have any feel for Kingley's situation?"

"Indirectly," Bill replied. "As an Order member, Kingsley was taking a wait-and-see view on Hogwarts and I think he'll help out however he can, but as an auror I'm afraid that he's completely glued to the Ministry. I doubt he'll so much as glimpse his own bed for a week now that a coup attempt nearly succeeded right under his nose. I hate to say it because Kingsley is such a capital fellow, but the only thing working in his favour right now is that his name isn't Akar Sharif."

Harry winced. "Sharif is head of the Hit Wizard Bureau?"

Bill nodded grimly.

"Poor Akar," Ginny said, shaking her head.

"Anyway," Bill concluded, "I would imagine that aurors may show up here, but only if it's obvious that death eaters are attacking here in large enough numbers as to mathematically rule out an imminent attack on the Ministry."

"Not an encouraging thought," Harry remarked.

"No," Bill admitted. "Let's hope that all of this defence planning pays off!" he exclaimed as he turned to go find the acting headmistress.

And with that, Harry's office was suddenly the way it should be. In the most tumultuous, teetering moments, there was only one person who could make Harry feel perfectly grounded...

Ginny dropped down from her perch by the window and walked across the now-quiet office to Harry and lowered herself to straddle him comfortably as he sat in his chair. They wrapped their arms around each other and sank into each other's eyes as Harry lazily rocked back and forth. Time suspended itself as Ginny caressed the skin below his eyes: weary careworn eyes that would need days of leisure and happiness to once again be recognizable as those of a seventeen year old. She smiled for him; smiled to remind him that he made her happy and that she always hoped she could do the same for him.

He smiled back. It was the smile of someone who knows that for all the surrounding world seemed chaotic and exhausting, true happiness was mere inches from his face.

"You said something to me this morning that I didn't properly reply to," Ginny whispered.

"Oh?" Harry inquired.

"Yes," she replied as her eyes averted downwards toward his neck. "We were about to charge off into peril together, and you said the most perfect thing to me. The proper response, at a minimum, would be 'I love you too, Harry,'" Ginny told him solemnly. "But in truth there are no words that can possibly describe what you mean to me." Her eyes ascended very slowly to meet his.

Harry smiled softly within the sunshine of her gaze. Words were not one of his current strengths either, so he raised his face to close the tantalizing distance between then and they united. For once there was privacy. There was no danger or urgency. There was only the sensation of warm lips pressing together, the seascape sound of contented breath, and the comfort of pure empathy.

After a while they pulled apart again, to complete the communion with fingers that traced along familiar paths, eyes that caressed, and the remaining necessary verbal exchanges.

"How's your dad?" Harry asked.

"He's fine," Ginny assured him. "When I left, his ribs barely hurt at all anymore, and he was going to go under a restorative sleep draught to complete his recovery from the cruciatus. But you know what? More than anything, I think the chance to flop around in a comfortable bed being waited on hand and foot was the best thing for him. It's not the cruciatus that he really needs to recover from — it's six weeks of frantic flailing at the Ministry that's taken the worst toll. I wish the healers had told him he needed to stay a week."

"I'm sure you're right," Harry said as he continued to rock them gently. "And how about your mum?" he asked. "Is she worried with six of her kids holed up here in the castle awaiting peril? Or does she agree with your dad that we're hopefully due for a respite?"

"She knows we've all followed you back here, and she's aware that you believe everything is headed for a massive collision," Ginny admitted. "But she didn't hit the roof or break down in tears when we left. She told us all to look out for each other, and to look after you."

"Hmmm..." Harry murmured noncommitally.

"I'm not going to put words in Mum's mouth," Ginny continued, "but you've saved Dad twice, you've saved Bill, saved me some untold number of times... perhaps she's accepted that we just can't run from trouble anymore. Trouble will keep finding us, unless we stand our ground and do something to stop Trouble once and for all."

"It's ironic," Harry mused, "that we just sent the Malfoys into hiding for precisely the opposite reason."

"Ironic perhaps, but completely rational," Ginny countered with a smile. "The friends of the Malfoy family are not cut of the same cloth as Weasley friends. And Malfoys are certainly not of the same calibre as Weasleys."

"William has apprised me of the precise reasons for your assumption of an imminent attack, Harry" McGonagall said as she and Bill took seats in Harry's office. "I have requested more assistance from the Order. Remus will be here shortly, as you know, and I hope that Emmeline, Dedalus, Elphias and Alastor will be able to join us a well. I have contacted Kingsley regarding possible auror support and he is currently meeting with Amelia. Both of them are immensely sympathetic to your cause, but it is uncertain whether they will be able to break through bureaucratic obstacles in time to help in a meaningful way."

"Any help that we can get at this point will be most appreciated," Harry replied, "but I'm cautiously optimistic that we have the resources to pull through even without the aurors."

McGonagall nodded solemnly. "I guess we can only hope, can't we?" She studied her hands for a moment. "As acting headmistress, I am authorized to make emergency decisions to evacuate students. I am permitted to do so, even without consulting the full faculty body, and in the interests of time I am tempted to do so. There is one person, however, whom I feel compelled to consult, Harry, and that is you."

Harry studied her closely for a moment. The implication was clear: was he prepared to approve the evacuation of students even though students were the lifeblood of his whole operation? As a faculty member with a pending dismissal, it was easy for him to make use of willing student volunteers, but now that Fudge had reversed his sacking he was back in a moral grey area. He stared into space for a moment, weighing his conflicting responsibilities.

"Here's my recommendation, Minerva," Harry stated. "We should vacate all students who wish to leave, and any students whose parents specifically request evacuation. But be aware that it might already be too late to safely relocate all Hogwarts students. If we fail to evacuate, I will personally take full responsibility for the safety of the students."

McGonagall nodded. "Good point — the floo network was sabotaged this morning, apparently in conjunction with the Ministry coup; people are still making calls over it, but it is not reliable for transport. Parents will have the option of apparating to the gates and side-apparating their children home, but otherwise we'll have to rely on the Hogwarts Express. I'm told that it is being readied for a ten o'clock departure from Hogsmeade station tomorrow morning," she said. "But Harry?"

"Yes?" Harry replied.

"I admit I will rely heavily on you and your students to develop and implement defense plans, but please understand one thing..." McGonagall fixed Harry with grave eyes. "In terms of responsibility: that is mine and mine alone. If things end badly, I must accept all of the blame."

"I understand Minerva," Harry acceded.

"I trust in you, of course, that things will not end badly," McGonagall added expressionlessly as she rose and excused herself to make a floo-call to the Ministry.

Ryan was observing the battle of Weasleys with a mixture of impatience and bemusement. Harry's face was knotted in concern. Ginny was rolling her eyes. Hermione, Laura and Quinn were glancing about, looking for excuses to be somewhere else.

"It is of the utmost impetuousity to knowingly permit adversaries to enter into the heart of the edifice!" Percy stated. The declaration was conceptually identical to each of his last three proclamations, but his expansive vocabulary allowed a semi-infinite number of distinct-sounding permutations.

"But it's the only way to trap them!" Ron protested, self-consciously aware that he had been reduced to stammering repetitively.

"Is not!" George dissented as he walked into the classroom, carrying a box of ward stones that needed reconfiguration.

"Is too!" Fred maintained as he returned from the loo.

"Is not!" George griped.

"He hit me, Daddy!" Fred whined.

"He hit me first!" George insisted.

"I'm telling Mummy!" Fred vowed petulantly.

"Would you please shut up!" Percy growled.

Harry raised his hand. "I have an idea," he said, bringing an end to both the real and simulated bickering. Everyone, including at least twenty people who were not actually part of the leadership meeting itself, paused their to listen.

"The battle can be won without this tack and it introduces risks that many of us have been trying to avoid," Harry reasoned, "But Ron's scheme is the only credible plan I've heard for actually capturing death eaters. Without it, we could easily win the day but allow almost every foe to vanish into the mist to fight again." He tapped his quill inklessly onto his parchment as he thought things through. "Ron and Laura, could you work together to create a switchable bottleneck?"

"A what?" Ron asked.

Harry laughed. "That's a term I just made up. I'd prefer to be able to keep the eaters completely out of the castle as long as we want, but if the battle is going according to set expectations, I think maybe we really will want to allow one or two ward points to go down in a controlled way. Ron proposed allowing penetration into the Entrance Hall, so maybe we could locate switchable wards in a place that could funnel enemies through a tight choke point leading right where we want them."

"I fail to see how a scheduled breach is any less problematic than an unscheduled one," Percy argued.

Harry grinned at the elder Weasley sibling. "That's because there are aspects of this plan that I haven't shared with you. I'm afraid I can't share them with any of you yet, but will ask you to trust me. Let's just say that I'm planning a surprise that I hope will sow confusion and demoralization among our enemies. We will permit the breach if and only if my own plan goes as expected, and will schedule it precisely at the time when their confusion and demoralization will be most debilitating. In their distracted state, there should be a much reduced risk to our tactical teams if they swoop in and stupefy anyone caught in our little web."

The entire room had gone utterly silent as everyone contemplated the concept.

"Ron, I'd like you to figure where the bottleneck should be in order to optimize it as a trap," Harry resumed. "I also want an idea of how long it should be open in order to enable a decent number of enemy through there but not give them enough time to start breaking into the rest of the castle. Percy — it's absolutely critical that we not foul this up, so I'd like you to second-guess Ron at every step, but please try to work together — we're all under a huge amount of pressure right now; my biggest worry at this point is that we all drive each over completely mad."

Harry turned to Hermione. "Could you accompany Ron as he maps the bottleneck and place your anti-portkey wards throughout the area to try to completely block their opportunities for magical exit?"

Harry finally shifted his attention to Laura. "I don't know if anyone here has experience casting switchable ward spells Laura, but maybe you could talk to the twins. If anyone can figure something out in the next few hours, it's them."

Everyone nodded.

"The last thing I need from everyone is a way for me to apparate out of here. In order to spring my own little surprise, I'm going to need to leave the castle."

"We'll find a way, Harry," Ryan assured him.

"Harry," Laura asked, "If' you're not going to be here, how will we know when to open the bottleneck?"

"I'll signal via the HART bracelets," Harry advised.

"Sarah, Mary-Jo, Quinn and I are HART monitors right now," Ryan elaborated. "But It's critical that the ward teams be synchronized with the dynamic response. Laura please ask Sarah for the fourth monitor bracelet and wear it until further notice. Sarah can wear a field bracelet instead."

Laura nodded and turned to find Sarah on the other side of the classroom.

"How will we know when to engage the trapped death eaters?" Quinn asked.

"You'll know it's time," Harry declared, "when you see them frantically clutching their dark marks."

Ron hated to admit it, but he'd never really addressed the leadership deficiencies that had tainted his troubled first year of quidditch captaincy. He could strategize and plan, or he could be friendly and funny, but he couldn't do it all at the same time. Unfortunately, the more stressed and tired he got, the more dominant his cranky old Ron-brain got, drowning out that other voice that had all the good ideas. People around him were starting to get a bit weary of Ron-brain.

"And so," Ron told the assembled leadership as he fidgeted nervously with his wand, "the bird from Hufflepuff..."

"Sometimes known as Laura," the Hufflepuff girl clarified from beside him with a flinty glare. "Tweet tweet tweet..." she muttered under her breath, earning appreciative snickers from Fred and George,.

"Er, sorry Lorna , I didn't see you there!" Ron stammered. "Has everybody met Nora? She put switchable wards into place, here and here..." he jabbed his wand a large map of the Entrance Hall and Great Hall areas that Lucia had conjured and spellotaped across several desks. "The wards are right on the big front doors, so when Harry's signals, we'll reverse Fred's switch charms, which will leave the doorway unprotected. The death eaters should be able to tell pretty quickly that their spells are penetrating."

"Please walk us through what you see happening when the enemy realizes that there's a gap in the defences," Harry requested.

"Okay," Ron replied, gesturing with his wand. "The eaters stream through the anteroom into the Entrance Hall, then over here into the Great Hall. Hermione has the place laced with anti-portkey wards..." he pointed out the small grey disks distributed liberally across the map, "so we should be able to pin them all in there."

"Thanks Ron," Harry said as he cast a small point of light onto the map with his finger and flicked it around to regions of interest. "This is all pretty much what we expected, but studying the map raises some questions. First of all, I count no fewer than six secondary entrances routes leading off into the rest of the castle from the Entrance Hall. How do we prevent the enemy from taking those other routes? Secondly, two of the walls in the Great Hall are strictly interior walls — they're not of fortification grade, and haven't benefited from centuries of standard annual warding spells that Hogwarts maintenance always casts on the exterior battlements. How are we going to prevent people from blasting through the east and south walls and into the castle courtyards?" He paused for emphasis. "It's absolutely critical we get this right. We simply can't afford for combatants to break out of the trap and start streaming into the rest of the castle. There's no way the school can muster enough skilled fighters to wage floor-by-floor, room-by-room combat with hundreds of enemies."

"These were my precise concerns,Harry," Percy interjected.

Ron gave his brother an agitated glance. "Er, well for the Great Hall, I asked Lorena to send some of her tykes out to double- and triple-ward the walls. If they're smart enough to cast decent spells, it should hold for a while."

Laura drew her wand and tapped it distractedly for a moment before taking a deep breath and putting it safely back into her pocket. George furtively passed her a small piece of parchment that she glanced at. She peeked surreptitiously at Ron's back, and stifled a giggle.

"Yes, but what about the secondary routes off Entrance Hall?" Ryan asked.

"Well, for that," Ron responded haltingly, "I, um, was hoping we could put one or both of our tactical teams out there to sort of, you know, direct traffic?" His neck was getting deeply flushed from the scrutiny.

Harry shrugged. "I was really hoping to avoid face-to-face confrontation until after my second signal... but I guess we can consider it."

"Okay," Ryan said as he began to pace along a bare stretch of floor opposite from Ron and the map. "Remember that many of the calculations we're making are geared toward keeping everyone in the castle safe. Keeping that in mind, I need to know two things. How long can walls the Great Hall keep a large nest of angry dark wizards penned in? And, how many people stationed in the Entrance Hall will it take to ensure all the invaders stay away from the balcony and the back hallways?"

"What?!" Ron sputtered.

Ryan blinked in confusion. "I asked, how long..." he began.

"I heard what you asked!" Ron exploded. "Listen, I've been slaving away at this bloody nonsense a big chunk of yesterday last night and today. I'm sick to death of everyone always second-guessing dumb old Ron. If nobody thinks I can deliver on this then just say so!!"

"I wasn't second guessing you Chess," Ryan re-attempted gamely, "I just need to know..."

"Forget it! I'm going to the kitchens!" Ron yelled at the stunned faces surrounding him, "I'll be gone as long as I bloody well feel like it. If any of you ingrates needs something then why don't you just go to hell!"

He spun around to leave the room; the luxuriant red and black rooster tail that had somehow sprung profusely from the back of his trousers over the last several minutes swept grandly through the air behind him, scattering a flurry of ward disks and parchments off the map. He stomped away heedlessly, leaving clattering chaos and an astonished room in his wake.

"Angry bird," Fred observed with raised eyebrows as the door slammed.

Harry sighed wearily. "Hermione?" he asked. "Would you be willing to accompany me on a stroll down to the kitchens?"

The final grey glimmers of the equinox twilight were fading in the window of the private chamber in the Hospital Wing. Ginny squeezed Harry's hand as the two of the stood for several minutes in silence.

"Sir," Harry began haltingly. "Sir, I never really got comfortable calling you Albus, so I hope you don't mind if I speak formally..."

The old man was perfectly still and peaceful, although the flickering light of the single lamp seemed to animate his features slightly, giving the impression of restful breathing. But of course Harry knew that the headmaster could not have done so in days.

"If you preferred, I suppose we could call you Sir Albus," Harry murmured in jest. Ginny laughed softly. For an instant, the lamplight decorated the headmaster's face with a glimmer of a smile.

"Sir, I'm stretching my brain, worrying that I'm missing something, but I think we've got it nailed. Ginny and I know how we're going to lure Riddle away. We know what we're going to do with him. The students down here have defences and wards covered. We know how to signal back and forth. They even had a plan to capture death eaters..." Harry trailed off again as he gazed at Dumbledore's resting face.

There was the slightest flicker in the corner of the room; a little poof noise too soft to be heard. The castle bell tolled the half hour: a brief, solitary, mournful note throbbing across the night.

"So anyway sir, that's what I came here to ask. Am I forgetting anything?" Harry stood silently. He and Ginny held their breath for several long seconds in the low light.

You two alone may prevail. But never forget: you two are not alone.

Ginny startled and stared at Harry. He nodded slightly, faced her and grasped her other hand. The two stood in the dark room for an indeterminate time. They turned back to the frozen headmaster. "Thank you, sir." they whispered in unison, bowed their heads and then quietly exited the room hand in hand.

Two dark avian eyes watched them fade into the darkness and step out into the hall. A gentle undulating trill filled the air.