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SIYE Time:15:09 on 29th March 2024
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Abraxas
By Brennus

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Category: Alternate Universe
Characters:Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom, Ron Weasley
Genres: Action/Adventure
Warnings: Death, Disturbing Imagery, Intimate Sexual Situations, Rape, Violence
Story is Complete
Rating: R
Reviews: 369
Summary: It started with a surprising proposals from an unexpected source, but that was only the beginning. Soon, Harry finds himself dealing with forces beyond his imagination and dreams, and ultimately finds that the world is not what he believed it to be.
Hitcount: Story Total: 98731; Chapter Total: 3351





Author's Notes:
I’ve had a number of reviews from people who think that I’ve basically ignored what magic is capable of in the HP universe. Examples that have been put forward include the ‘wards’ (not a term JKR ever uses) around Hogwarts would have stopped the cruise missile working, to the idea that a handful of wizards could easily defeat the Muggles just by throwing a few Imperius Curses about. They then go on to list the effects of various spells and magical protections just to show how wrong I am. Unfortunately, almost none of these people have provided any canon evidence as to exactly why I’m wrong. In fact, 99% of what’s being said appears to be personal interpretation.

Basically, JKR hasn’t provided a huge amount of detail about the magic in her books and we know very little about the limitations of various spells, how exactly they are used, etc. A good example is making a property Unplottable. Now, it is stated that this will mean the property under the effect of the spell will not appear on any map, which various people have stated means the satellites couldn’t detect any buildings or areas which had this cast on them. However, my argument is that the Muggles didn’t detect any specific landmarks. They just identified areas which gave out a thermal reading, without any signs of electricity being present. That’s what they identified, not an actual property, so it’s irrelevant if they appear on a map. The Muggles are attacking grid squares, not marks on a map. Does this fit in with HP canon? Who knows! JKR never gave us enough information about the spell to say one way or the other. This is just my interpretation of it.

So, if anyone does feel the need to leave a review telling me I’ve got it all wrong, then they need to supply canon evidence. I’ll accept references from the books, or quotes from HP Wiki, Lexicon, or Pottermore. If you don’t provide evidence to support your ideas, I will ignore you. Also, remember that this story is being beta read by Arnel, who is VERY knowledgeable about the world of Harry Potter and would pick up any glaring errors I made, I’m sure. Now, on with the show!




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Chapter 21 — The Gathering Storm



“So, the citizens that have come forward have been providing useful intelligence, then?” Mayer asked the MI5 agent as they walked down a dim corridor in the bowels of Thames House.

“Indeed. Obviously, some are more useful than others, but we’re definitely getting a lot of useful information,” the man replied. “We called you here today as we have two couples here that I think will particularly interest you.”

“Lead on,” Mayer told him.

He was eventually led into a dark room with one wall made entirely of glass. Through it, he could see three separate interview rooms, two of which were occupied. Through the one-way mirror, he peered intently at the first couple. The man was obesely fat, but well dressed and respectable looking. The woman, in complete contrast, was as thin as a rake.

“Here we have Mr & Mrs Dursley,” the MI5 man explained. “Mrs Dursley’s maiden name was Evans, by the way, and she’s the aunt of one of our most wanted terrorists: Harry Potter.”

“Potter?” Mayer exclaimed. “She’s his aunt? Is she a Magical?”

“Oh, no. In fact, they’ve both made it very clear that they hate magic. Mrs Dursley attended a regular school in the North of England while her sister, Potter’s mother, went to that magical school we recently nuked. There was very little love lost between them.”

“Really,” Mayer noted with interest.

“It gets better. Potter’s parents were killed during the magical war that ended in the early eighties, and he was sent to live with the Dursleys as his sole remaining relatives. They’ve talked a lot about ‘disciplining’ the boy and ‘forcing’ the magic out of him.”

“Hmm, so Potter was abused as a child?” Mayer asked.

“It certainly sounds like it,” the man confirmed. “From a physiological point of view, it creates an interesting profile of the young man. It would certainly explain his hatred of normal people and his propensity for violence.”

“Most abused children don’t have the power to kill with a wave of their hand, though, do they?” Mayer pointed out. “Still, you’re right. It is interesting. Did they give us anything useful on Potter? Do they know where he is?”

“Sadly, no. Potter left their household last September and they weren’t expecting him back. From what they’ve said, I doubt he would lift a finger to help them even if they were in danger, and he certainly wouldn’t respond to any request for contact from them, even if they knew how to reach him. No, I actually think they are at risk from him.”

“Shame,” Mayer said in disappointment.

“Ah, well, maybe the next couple will be of more help in that regard. In interview room number two we have the Grangers. A respectable pair of dentists from Hampshire.”

“And how can they help us?” Mayer asked, looking at the soberly dressed middle aged couple.

“The Grangers also have a child who attended Hogwarts: their daughter, Hermione. For some time they’ve been growing increasingly concerned about the behaviour of their daughter and her apparent change in personality. Previously, they describe Hermione as a bright, intelligent girl who was extremely responsible for her age. In recent years, they’ve noticed she’s become more argumentative and reckless. They recently found out that she’d been involved in the fighting in the magical civil war, and she’s resisted all attempts by them to persuade her to leave Hogwarts and attend a respectable school. They’ve blamed most of this on her best friend, whom she met at the school.”

“Best friend?” Mayer asked with mounting excitement.

“Her best friend: Harry Potter.”

“This is wonderful!” he exclaimed. “How is the Granger’s relationship with their daughter at the moment? Would she come to them if they asked her to?”

“Yes, they’re very confident that she would. In fact, she left them the very means to do so. An owl, would you believe. These people send messages via glorified carrier pigeons! All they ask is that their daughter isn’t harmed, and that we help them convince her to turn her back on magic.”

Mayer turned and looked at the Grangers gleefully. At last he had a means of flushing this dangerous young wizard out into the open.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

“Is Ginny asleep?” Hermione asked as Harry slipped into the kitchen.

“Yeah, she practically grabbed that Dreamless Sleep Potion from me. I think she just wants a few hours respite from her misery.”

“Ron’s about the same, although he was just sitting staring out the window for the longest time. I really didn’t know what to say to him for the best.”

“Just be there for him,” Harry advised. “I’m sure he draws comfort from you just being near.”

“I hope so,” Hermione said in a worried tone. “I’m more worried about Mr Weasley, actually. He’s been shut up in that room all day. I’m sure he took a few bottles of Firewhiskey in with him.”

Harry nodded sadly. “He lived for his family. Now, he’s lost four of his seven children in short order, and the woman he loved more than anything. I can’t think of anything worse that could happen to the poor man.”

“How about you, Harry?” Hermione asked. “Mrs Weasley was like a surrogate mother to you. How are you taking this?”

“Truthfully? Badly,” he admitted. “I’m just so bloody… angry! Ginny was spitting blood after Hogsmeade was nuked, wanting to kill every Muggle she could lay her hands on. I was the one preaching restraint; that we had to negotiate with them. But look at things now. That air attack on the Burrow was just cowardly. They weren’t given any option to surrender. They were just blown to hell without a second thought. I tell you, Hermione, I’m on the verge of starting a war the Muggles will never forget!”

“Would you turn into another Voldemort? Killing any Muggle that crosses your path, purely because they’re different to you?” she challenged.

“Nah, I would kill them because they’re doing their best to kill everyone I love,” he spat back. “We didn’t start this war, Hermione, and so far we’ve shown great restraint, but are we going to sit back and just let them pick us off one by one?”

“Are you so sure we didn’t start this?” Hermione countered. “Those Muggles don’t see any difference between us. We’re just all magic users to them. Now they’ve found out about Grindelwald and Voldemort; well, I can almost understand their anger, if not their methods.”

“But what can we…” Harry paused and tilted his head. “Did you hear something?”

“That was the front door, I think,” Hermione frowned. “Come on, I think we’d better take a look.”

They both hurried out of the kitchen to find the front door wide open. They peered out into the street just in time to see a tall, balding man stagger unsteadily across the road.

“Bugger, we’d better go get him,” Harry exclaimed, leaping forward.

They both ran out of the house and across the road after Mr Weasley who, despite his drunken stagger, was moving quite rapidly. They had nearly reached him when he stopped suddenly and raised his wand.

“You bastards,” he slurred. “You BASTARDS! I’ve bloody spent my life standing up for you lot, and what do you do? Kill my WIFE! Kill my SONS. BASTARDS!”

A Blasting Charm shot from the end of his wand and impacted on the house directly in front of them. There was a tremendous explosion, with dust and debris being throw into the night air.

“Mr Weasley! No!” Hermione cried and leapt forward to grab his wand arm. With surprising strength, he knocked her flying backwards and shot off another spell. Another house burst into flame.

Not wanting to hurt the man, Harry sent a silent Stunning Spell into his back. Arthur Weasley slumped to the ground instantly.

“Come on, Hermione. Let’s get him back into the house. This is bound to bring police and troops down on us like a pack of dogs!”

Using a Levitation Charm, Hermione lifted Mr Weasley off the ground and hurried back to the safety of the house. Harry lingered, covering them as they ran, looking for the slightest sign of threats. He could hear shouting and a few distant screams, but no one seemed prepared to venture out into the street. Seeing Hermione had nearly reached the front door, Harry turned and ran. He sprinted into the house and slammed the door closed.

“I’ll take him upstairs,” Hermione said. “I think we should just let him sleep this off.”

“Agreed,” Harry replied wearily.

It was some minutes before Hermione returned. She looked extremely upset.

“I laid him out on the bed and placed a charm on the door to alert us if he tries to get out again,” she said.

“Good thinking,” Harry agreed.

“Harry, are we safe here now? I know the house has a Fidelius Charm on it, but it hasn’t stopped the Muggles attacking other properties with it cast. Unfortunately, Mr Weasley has rather announced our presence here.”

“I’m not sure, but I think so. From what we’ve heard, every house that has been attacked has been out in the countryside, not in cities. I think the Muggles just have a very general idea that a magical property is there, and that’s why they have to bomb the whole area. In towns they seem more likely to try and storm properties owned by witches or wizards, and the Fidelius will prevent that.”

“How are they doing it, then? Some sort of satellite surveillance?”

“I think it must be some sort of hi-tech gadget,” he agreed. “I think we’d better go upstairs to the front reception room. We can watch the street from there,” Harry decided.

“Good thinking,” she agreed.

They went upstairs to the little-used room and peered through the window. Outside, they could see the first fire engine had arrived, and that was closely followed by a police car. People were now starting to spill out into the street, no doubt heartened by the presence of the emergency services.

They watched the street outside intently. The police were followed by ambulances, and a short while later an army truck pulled up and a section of heavily-armed troops leapt out. They started either pulling on strange goggle-type devices or peering through bulky sights mounted on their rifles.

“Harry, I think those are thermal imagining sights,” Hermione announced, pointing at one of the soldiers who had dropped to one knee and was scanning the street through the large object. “That must be how they can detect wizards who have cast Disillusionment Charms!”

“Damn, that’s a huge advantage for us gone,” Harry grumbled.

“I was right: they must be using hi-tech equipment to detect us!”

“Can those things see through walls?” Harry asked warily.

“I have no idea.”

They sat there for the next two hours, watching the activity in the street. Although there was a lot of commotion, no one seemed to give the house a second look. Even when the police started going door to door, they bypassed number twelve without a moment’s hesitation. Eventually, things quietened down, although a number of policemen remained stationed outside the two ruined house.

“I think we’re safe,” Hermione said. “Do you think anyone was badly hurt? I didn’t see them take anyone out on a stretcher.”

“No, I didn’t, either,” Harry agreed. “Just as well. I don’t think Mr Weasley would have lived with himself if he’d hurt someone badly.”

“I’m not so sure. His opinion of Muggles seems to have changed a great deal recently,” Hermione replied glumly. “God, I could do with a drink, myself.”

Silently, Harry stood and walked over to a cabinet and pulled out a bottle. He also grabbed two glasses and walked back to where his friend was sitting looking at him in surprise.

“Single malt whiskey. Muggle stuff. Sirius always said he preferred the taste of it,” Harry noted.

He poured two large glasses of the amber liquid and handed one to Hermione. Her nose wrinkled at the smell of it, but she still took a large gulp of the stuff. Wheezing a little, she immediately refilled her glass. Harry followed her example.

The rest of the night passed quickly in a fog of alcoholic fumes. They awoke the next morning, fully clothed, on the sofa together. Both of them were hungover, and utterly miserable.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Later that morning, the occupants of Grimmauld Place gathered in the kitchen. Very little was said, and Mr Weasley seemed withdrawn and sullen. Despite what Hermione had said, Harry was surprised the man didn’t seem terribly repentant about the events of the previous evening. Kreacher had laid on a hearty breakfast, but no one seemed to have much of an appetite. Even Ron just picked at his food as he conversed with Hermione in hushed tones.

The sombre meal was suddenly interrupted by an unexpected arrival through the Floo. The green flames subsided to reveal Luna stepping from the fireplace. A moment later, her father followed her through. Xeno Lovegood made straight for Arthur, ignoring everyone else in the room. He squatted beside Arthur’s chair and laid a hand on his arm. For a moment Arthur looked confused, before tears began to fall down his cheek.

“They took my Molly, Xeno,” he managed to splutter.

“I’m sorry, my friend. I know what it is to lose a wife,” Xeno replied sympathetically.

The damn broke, and Mr Weasley collapsed into Xeno’s arms, howling in despair. The white haired man just held his friend tightly but remaining silent. Perhaps he knew from cruel experience how meaningless words were at time like this.

“I think Arthur and I need to have a talk,” Xeno said eventually as Arthur’s sobbing started to lessen. “Mr Potter, is there a private space we can use?”

“Of course, Mr Lovegood,” Harry said quickly. “Use the main drawing room. Upstairs and second on your right.”

“Thank you.”

Xeno then gently pulled Arthur to his feet and guided him out of the door. Everyone watched them go in silence.

“Daddy will help him,” Luna said firmly. “He knows what it’s like to lose the person you love more than anything.”

“And you know what it’s like to lose a mother, don’t you?” Ginny said in a wavering voice.

“It does get better, Ginny,” Luna told her, hurrying over to hug her friend. “The pain will lessen in time.”

Ginny sniffed but managed to stop further tears falling. Harry suspected that she was more angry than anything, and wondered if she’d been awake the previous evening whether she’d have joined her father in his random attack on the Muggles.

“Oh, have you been listening to the wireless?” Luna asked after releasing her friend.

“No, we assumed no one would be broadcasting,” Hermione admitted.

“Do you have a wireless set here? You should really turn it on. Someone’s trying to contact you, Harry,” Luna explained.

Sharing a suspicious look with his girlfriend, Harry ran upstairs and retrieved the radio from the room where it had been sitting unused. He carried it downstairs to the kitchen where he and his friends hurriedly set it up. Luna selected the right frequency, and soon a scratchy voice could be heard.

“Calling Harry Potter. Calling Harry Potter. This is the International Confederation of Wizards calling Harry Potter. Mr Potter, if you can hear this message, can you please contact the headquarters of the ICW in Strasbourg by any means available. This is most urgent! If anyone knows the location of Mr Potter, please pass this message on to him. Calling Harry Potter. Calling Harry Potter…”

“The ICW?” Harry exclaimed in surprise. “Why would they want to speak with me?”

“Dumbledore was Supreme Mugwump, remember,” Luna pointed out. “I’m sure he would have told them about you and Ginny. With every witch and wizard in the world under attack, I’m sure they want to contact as many powerful people as they can.”

Harry nodded. “I think it might be a good idea to talk with them, actually,” he agreed. “Maybe they have a bloody clue what to do about all this.”

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

It took two days for them to reach Strasbourg, and they wouldn’t have made it without Fleur’s local knowledge. The whole of France seemed to be in uproar with soldiers everywhere, and skirmishes with local witches and wizards commonplace.

The ICW’s headquarters were actually just outside the city itself, and had been attacked by Muggle aircraft half a dozen times already. Fortunately, the main building was underground and the French Army had yet to penetrate the complex. It had made it extremely difficult to get in, however, and in the end they’d needed to Stun a number of soldiers and Imperius several more.

They’d been met by a distinguished German witch named Bauer who seemed extremely pleased to see them. She’d been especially glad of Mr Weasley’s presence as they had apparently been having difficulties contacting members of the British Ministry. Arthur was rather shocked to find himself acting as temporary Minister for Magic in the absence of any higher ranking Ministry official.

The group were led into a large conference room already occupied by a diverse group of people dressed in a fabulous assortment of robes. They all shared the same haggard expressions on their faces, however.

Once Harry and his friends were introduced, an oriental-looking wizard who failed to give his name briefed them on the global situation.

“We are facing nothing less than a global war of extinction,” he began. “Just over ten days ago, the Muggles, in a totally unprecedented move, united as one to attack wizards and witches in every corner of the globe. This included, as I’m sure you’re aware, the detonation of three nuclear bombs; one in Britain which destroyed Hogwarts and the nearby village, one at the Durmstrang Institute and a third aimed at a large magical settlement in Brazil. There are no reports of survivors at any of these locations.”

“Oh, God,” Hermione whimpered.

“Elsewhere, attacks have been undertaken using normal Muggle weapons, but these have been just as effective in many places. The Muggles seem to know far more about us then we could have ever have suspected and have planned their attacks well. In Russia, for instance, we estimate that three quarters of the magical population have been killed and the rest are being hunted down like animals. The story is the same nearly everywhere. Even India, where they were reluctant to join in initially, has now begun a systematic campaign of eliminating every witch or wizard they can find. A surprising number of Muggleborns and Half-bloods have been betrayed by their own, non-magical, family members, such has been the effectiveness of the propaganda aimed at us.”

“But why is this happening?” Bill Weasley demanded.

“It appears the Muggles are upset at the number of casualties they have suffered in the numerous magical civil wars that have occurred across the globe,” a witch with an American accent explained. “Let’s face it, every country with a sizable magical population has had some maniac claiming to be a Dark Lord starting a war over the last fifty years. Them finding out about Grindelwald and his activities during World War Two was the final straw. We’re reaping what we’ve sowed, I’m afraid.”

“Quite why this is happening now, we have no idea,” the oriental wizard continued. “We can only assume the recent conflict in the British Isles pushed them over the edge. Lord Voldemort was particularly vicious when it came to his treatment of Muggles, and perhaps this has convinced them that we are a serious threat to their security. All attempts by the ICW to negotiate with the Muggle Governments have been rebuffed and several of our envoys were shot on sight.”

“That happened to our last Minister for Magic,” Arthur informed them solemnly.

“Ah, we suspected as much,” the man nodded. “That’s a great shame. I only met him once, but I thought highly of Kingsley.”

“So, what are we going to do about this?” Harry demanded. “Are we going to just sit here and let them slaughter us?”

“No, and that’s why we’ve been so keen to get you here,” the man said firmly. “The previous Chief Mugwump, Albus Dumbledore, was lavish in his praise for you, Mr Potter, and made very clear to us that he expected you to replace him some time in the future. Unfortunately, circumstances have altered, somewhat, and we must now ask you to fulfil another role, that of leader of the British Resistance.”

Harry said nothing but inwardly cringed. Why did people always feel the need to dump this crap on him?

“The only way we’re going to get the Muggles to come to the negotiation table is for them to realise that they can’t just wipe us off the face of the planet with impunity, and that we’re a force to be reckoned with. They only way we’re going to achieve that is by striking back.”

“And just what will that entail?” Hermione asked. “Are you expecting us to just mindlessly kill men, women and children just like Voldemort would have done?”

“Absolutely not,” the man replied, sounding offended. “We have drawn up a clear set of rules of engagement. Our primary priority is to attack the Muggle military. We’ll need to take out their nuclear capability first, as this has proved the most dangerous. After that, we need to destroy their airplanes and artillery. If we can destroy a good proportion of their offensive capability, there’s a decent chance we can get them to talk to us.”

“How would we even know where to start?” Ron asked indignantly. “What do we know about the Muggles?”

“We can find out quite a lot from unclassified sources,” Hermione argued. “I’ll sure I can easily find a list of bases British bomber aircraft are flying from, for instance. Attacking their nuclear capabilities will be harder, though. Most of it is mounted in submarines.”

“We may have allies and resources that can help us,” the man informed her. “It’s not just wizards and witches who are under threat. All magical creatures seem to be slated for elimination. The goblins, for example, are livid about the attack on Gringotts in London, and have pledged to help us.”

“The centaurs and the merpeople can’t he happy about what happened at Hogsmeade, either,” Harry agreed. “Perhaps they can help, if any of them are left, of course.”

“The Muggles have united against us, so it is time for all magical beings to gather together to fight this menace,” the man said. “So, Mr Potter, can we count on you to organise and lead the British resistance against the Muggles?”

“Yes, you can,” Ginny said before he had a chance to speak, “and we’ll all help him.”

Harry shrugged. “You heard her,” he grinned. “I might be prepared to take on the entire Muggle army, but I’m not daft enough to argue with my girlfriend.”

“See, there’s proof that he has some intelligence,” Ginny said with a smirk.

The assembled Confederation members smiled for the first time in a long while.

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One week later

Harry peered through the chain link fence and across the wide open space of the airfield. RAF Coltishall in Norfolk had been selected at random as their first target and would very much be a test of their capabilities.

As soon as they had returned to the UK after their visit to the ICW, Harry and his friends had thrown themselves into researching and planning what amounted to a military campaign. Hermione had been a veritable whirlwind, and Harry suspected she was actually enjoying the idea of destroying the Muggle’s weapons of war. Truth be told, so was he. These warplanes that could indiscriminately rain death down on unsuspecting people on the ground were a fine place to start in his book.

As well as planning, they had also tried to reach out to the remaining magical community in Britain, and he’d been pleased to discover just how many people he knew had avoided the Muggle forces. Their real breakthrough had come when they found Lee Jordan, Fred and George’s old friend, hiding out in his family home. He’d immediately agreed to join them, and had brought a great deal of radio equipment with him. Soon, he’d set up a wireless network which the Muggles had so far been unable to either track or jam. At last, they had a means to communicate with their fellow witches and wizards.

Unfortunately, a lot of the Muggleborns Harry had gone to school with had been arrested. It appeared that the Muggles had kept records of which children had not attended a regular comprehensive after junior school, and used these records to round them up. All too often, possession of a wand had been a death sentence for them.

But now it was finally time to hit back. A team of twenty witches and wizards were currently lurking outside the perimeter fence of the Royal Air Force base ready to strike.

“Do you think that guard will be around again soon?” Ron whispered. They’d seen an armed guard walk past doing a perimeter check just a few minutes ago.

“Doesn’t matter if he does,” Ginny argued. “We’re going to start blowing up those planes pretty soon, and everyone will know we’re here then.”

“Yeah, but no point announcing our presence before we have to,” he shot back.

“It’s time, anyway,” Harry announced after glancing at his watch. He began to crawl back to the others and the two Weasleys followed him.

Picking up his broom which had been lying on the ground, Harry pushed himself up and to his feet. Glancing around, he could see his strike team copying his actions. They’d decided that attacking the base while mounted on brooms would be the best way to cover all of the large base. Hermione had found aerial pictures of the airfield on the internet and everyone had a set target to deal with.

“Okay, this is it, everyone,” Harry announced. “Just stick to the plan: get in there, destroy your assigned targets fast, and then get out. Just do what we set out to do, and don’t get side-tracked. Good luck, everyone.”

“Thanks, Harry. You, too,” Katie Bell said firmly. She’d been one of the first to volunteer for the mission, and the obvious choice to be included with her superb flying skills.

“Let’s go!” Harry cried, and shot into the air on his beloved Firebolt.

Nineteen other brooms followed him, heading straight for the cluster of buildings across the grass. They had nearly reached the large, concrete apron before anyone noticed them. The Muggle ground crew then began yelling in alarm at the sight of broom riders bearing down on them rapidly.

Reaching this point was the signal for them all to split up. The aircraft were all scattered across the base, many of them housed individually in hardened concrete shelters. At least ten planes, Harry was pleased to see, were parked in a neat row out here in the open. He left them to the others while he and Ginny banked hard and headed towards the control tower. This was a squat building with what looked like a glass dome mounted on it. He could see people inside the dome, pointing at them as they approached. These were people who had guided the bombers to kill many, including Ginny’s mother, he reminded himself. They would be the first Muggle casualties.

“Now!” Ginny cried, pointing her wand at the building. Harry did likewise and two bolts of pure white energy shot from the tips of their wands and impacted on the control tower nearly simultaneously. The building was blown to pieces in a split second, sending a shower of brick, glass and dust into the air. They didn’t pause to admire their work, but banked their brooms hard left, heading for a huge hanger.

The hanger doors were open, but they didn’t plan to enter it. Instead, they split up with Harry flying to the left of the enormous building and Ginny to the right. As soon as they came level with the eighty foot high walls, blue bolts of light erupted from their wands, easily cutting through the metal structure. Flying fast and low, the pair of them quite literally cut the hanger down, and as he turned and started to gain altitude, Harry could see the huge building starting to collapse in a twisted heap.

Taking a moment to look around, he could already see dozens of fires raging around the airfield. Glancing back at the apron, he could see the aircraft parked there were now burning wrecks, their wheels collapsed and their fuselages engulfed in flames.

Suddenly, a huge explosion filled the air and Harry turned his head in time to see a gigantic fireball expanding into the air.

“Katie must have got the fuel dump,” Ginny called across to him, a huge grin plastered to her face.

“Yeah, she… shit!”

As he’d start to speak, a loud popping noise attracted his attention. Looking around, he soon saw a group of men in camouflaged uniforms firing their guns at a passing broom. The rider, who had been busy destroying one of the concrete hangers, hadn’t seen them and was hit instantly. He slumped off the broom and fell onto the grass below while his broom continued to fly on its own for a short while, before nosediving into the ground.

“Bastards!” Ginny yelled and turned her broom in the direction of the soldiers. Harry followed suit and the bore down on the troops, who noticed them coming and shifted their aim.

Knowing his girlfriend’s burning anger at the Muggles who killed her mother and brothers, Harry decided that he would cast a Shield in front of the pair of them as he suspected she would be bent on taking more offensive action. He was right, as even as the first of the bullets bounced harmlessly off his protective shield, Ginny shot a large fireball at them. The troops saw it coming and turned to run, but it was too late. The fireball impacted in the middle of the group and exploded, incinerating most of them and blowing the remainder into the air like they were rag dolls. They hit the ground hard and none of them showed any signs of life.

“Right, we’ve been here long enough. Retreat!” Harry’s magically enhanced voice called out.

Instantly, all the broom riders in sight turned and headed back to their rally point. Ginny followed their example, but did continue to throw fireballs at anything still standing as she flew.

They flew over the fence and landed some distance away in a small field. Harry quickly did a headcount.

“Only Melling missing,” he noted with satisfaction. “We saw the Muggles get him, unfortunately.”

“We blew the crap out of the place!” someone yelled joyfully.

“Don’t get cocky!” Harry said loudly. “Everyone, follow the plan! Apparate to your designated location and we’ll meet up for a debrief tonight. Well done, everybody, now go!”

One by one, the group popped out of sight, leaving Harry and Ginny alone.

“Good work, sir!” Ginny announced happily, giving him a smart salute.

“Yeah, like you follow any orders I’d give you,” Harry snorted.

“True, but it’s fun to give you the illusion that you’re in change once and a while,” she laughed.

Shaking his head, Harry grabbed her hand and they Apparated back to Grimmauld Place, their first mission a success.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Hermione was waiting anxiously for them when they returned. She’d wanted to take part in the raid but had been extremely uncomfortable with the idea of killing Muggle soldiers. Fearing that her hesitation might prove costly in a combat situation, Harry had forbidden her from coming with them.

“How did it go?” she asked after releasing Ron from the death-like hug she’d given him.

“The mission went perfectly, but we did lose someone,” Harry admitted.

“That bloke called Melling. I never found out where he was from,” Ron admitted.

“He was part of the Administrative Services in the Ministry,” Arthur said as he came over to join them. “Good bloke, I always thought.”

“One thing that came out of this mission is the fact that we need better communications between us. If we’d been able to give Melling a warning, he might still be here. He was shot in the back and never saw the soldiers who did it.”

“Cowardly swine,” Arthur growled. His opinion of Muggles had changed greatly in recent weeks.

“Maybe we could do something with a Protean Charm,” Hermione pondered.

“We need to do something,” Ron agreed. “Once the spells started flying it was impossible to communicate with each other. If nothing else, we’ll have to work out a series of signals for next time. You know, like red sparks means retreat, or something.”

“Yeah, good thinking,” Harry agreed. “We’ll do that until Hermione has a chance to come up with something a bit more sophisticated.”

“Come into the kitchen, everyone,” Arthur told them. “We’ve got piping hot soup laid on. You’ll need it after all that.”

Harry let himself he guided into the kitchen, pleased to see Mr Weasley acting a little more like his old self. Of course, it could be down to the fact that they’d just destroyed a load of the machines that had killed his wife and sons, but Harry tried to remain optimistic.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPH PHPHPHP

“How bad was the damage?” Mayer growled.

“We lost fifty-one airmen killed with another forty wounded. The airfield is virtually unusable, with nearly every ground facility destroyed, including the main fuel tanks. Most worrying of all, we lost fifty-two Jaguar fighter-bombers in the raid. It was the aircraft they were definitely going for,” the Royal Air Force officer explained.

“Hardly a surprise. We’ve been bombing them pretty fiercely for days now,” an Army general noted.

“This will be the first of many such attacks,” Mayer predicted. “From now on, security at all military installations must be stepped up. Are your reserves all now called up?”

“Yes, the Queen signed the mobilisation order yesterday and the recall notices went out immediately,” the general confirmed. “We’ll be able to use the Territorial Army to guard key points like the airfields, freeing up the regulars to undertake direct action against the Magicals.”

“Excellent,” Mayer nodded. “Home Secretary, any word on securing the second nuclear release?”

“It should be confirmed before lunch,” the man confirmed. “It helps that the target is so remote.”

“This island in the North Sea is some sort of prison, you say?” asked an admiral. “Would it not be more prudent to capture the place and see if any of the prisoners are prepared to help us?”

“I’m afraid not,” Mayer said, secretly appalled at the idea of any of the Magicals working with them. “This prison houses their most hardened and dangerous criminals. These people are mass murderers, happy to kill anyone, Magical or normal. No, these are exactly the sort of people we need to eliminate. Plus, an assault on the island would be highly dangerous and we would probably lose a lot of men. No, this is the best way, believe me.”

“Well, it will give us a chance to try out our Trident missile subs,” the admiral acknowledged.

“What about our other secret project? Have the family agreed to help?” Mayer asked.

“They have, but only on the strict understanding that their daughter isn’t hurt,” the Head of MI5 said. “We’re ready to send the message whenever you are.”

“Go ahead,” Mayer said grimly. “The quicker we take down this wizard named Potter, the better.”

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP HP

Hermione slipped out of the house and into the darkened street. She’d told nobody where she was going as she knew that they would only try and stop her. Checking to make sure the coast was clear, she Apparated from the small patch of trees situated in the middle of Grimmauld Place.

She arrived in the back garden of her family’s house in Winchester. Through the window, she could faintly see lights on and was relieved that her parents were up and moving. The Grangers were always habitual early risers. Hurriedly, she tried the handle of the back door and found it unlocked. She slipped into the kitchen and sighed with relief.

“Mum? Dad?” she called out.

“Hermione? Is that you?” she heard her mother’s voice respond from the living room. Hermione hurried out of the kitchen and into the front room, to find both her parents on their feet.

“Hermione, you came,” her mother said happily. “After that last argument we had, I was afraid you wouldn’t.”

“Of course I would come!” Hermione exclaimed. “I know we’ve had our differences, but you’re still my mum and dad. What was it you needed to speak to me so urgently about?”

“Oh, there’s been so much going on, I hardly know where to start,” Mrs Granger said in a distraught manner.

“Here, sit yourself down in my chair so we can talk, we’ll take the couch,” her father said, guiding her to the armchair he normally sat in.

“Okay,” she agreed apprehensively. Her mother seated herself on the couch opposite and looked at her with an almost pleading expression.

“I’ve just got to nip upstairs for a moment, and then we can have a nice chat, eh?” he father said and vanished out the door. Instantly, Hermione became suspicious.

“Mother, why did you ask me to come?” she asked firmly.

“Hermione, sweetheart, your father and I are worried about you,” Jane Granger began. “So many terrible things have happened and you seem to be mixed up in all of them. Is this really what you wanted to have happen when you went off to that blasted magical school of yours?”

“A school which is now a pile of radioactive rubble thanks to the government, despite what they’ve been saying, although I’m sure you’ve figure that out for yourselves,” Hermione retorted. “Did you stop to consider that I could have been at Hogwarts when they dropped the bomb if circumstances had been different?”

“That just proves my point! Don’t you understand just how bad things have got if the government has to set off a nuclear bomb on its own territory? It just shows how dangerous these Magicals are if they have to take such radical action. You’re just blinded to their evil…”

“No, Mother, you’re wrong! My friends aren’t evil, we’ve been fighting Dark forces for ages! The government have just assumed we’re all like the Death Eaters, which is ridiculous. That’s like saying all Muggles are serial killers based on Jack the Ripper!”

“So, we’re Muggles now, are we?” her mother said coolly. “You’ve started to disassociate yourself from us, have you?”

“Mum, ever since I found out that I was a witch I’ve been disassociating myself from Muggles, but not because I hate them or look down on them. It’s just that I’m different to them. But I would never try and distance myself from you or Dad. I love you!”

“Then how come we’ve seen so little of you in the last few years? Come the summer holidays, you stick around for a week or two before you’re off again and we’re left with no idea where you are or what you’re doing.”

“The war with Voldemort was coming to a head. Harry needed me!” she protested. “I had hoped that after he was defeated we could spend more time together as a family, but everything’s just fallen to pieces!”

“I wish I could believe you love, I really do, but this Harry Potter seems to have brainwashed you. I dread to think what that boy has convinced you to do. Well, no longer. You can come in now.”

Hermione turned in her chair to see the barrel of a gun pointed directly at her. Her fingers automatically began to reach for her wand, but she knew she’d never make it in time.

“Put your hands on your head!” the armed man yelled. A second later, three more men all dressed in black combat gear and carrying submachine guns entered the room. As Hermione reluctantly raised her arms, one of them yanked her to her feet and began to roughly pat her down. The man soon found her wand, which he snapped in two without a moment’s hesitation.

Hermione’s arms were forced down and handcuffs slipped over her wrists. Angrily, she turned and glared at her mother.

“You bitch! You traitorous bitch!” she yelled. “They’ll shoot me, you know. Is that what you wanted? Do you hate me so much?”

“I don’t hate you, my love,” Jane Granger said calmly. “You’re just not seeing sense at the moment. But these men will help you. They’ll deal with all the brainwashing you’ve suffered, and we’ll get out wonderful little girl back again.”

“You really believe that?” she yelled as the men started to drag her away. “This is a war of eradication! Any person with magical abilities will be killed if they’re caught! You’ve just signed my death sentence!”

Hermione’s world suddenly went black as a bag was pulled over her head. She was roughly pushed out of the house and led to what she thought was a van. She was thrown in the back and the vehicle began to move immediately.

Fighting back the tears, she howled in frustration at how stupid she’d been.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP


Harry, Ginny and her father sat in the kitchen, munching on toast and talking about unimportant things. After the frantic action of the previous day, they all felt that they needed a little downtime. Kreacher was shuffling around, preparing a second breakfast for them and grumbling if he encountered a pot or pan not cleaned to his satisfaction. He really was a completely different elf to the one Harry had first encountered.

The peaceful morning was interrupted by Ron entering the kitchen and slumping into a chair next to Harry. He looked around sleepily before frowning.

“Where’s Hermione?” he asked. “She was already gone when I woke up.”

“And why, Ronald, would you be expecting to see Hermione as soon as you woke up?” Mr Weasley asked in a frosty tone.

“Err, that is, she….err,” Ron floundered.

“Is she not upstairs?” Harry asked quickly. Once Arthur started quizzing Ron about his sleeping arrangements it would only be a matter of time before he and Ginny were dragged into it.

“Yeah, have you looked in the library?” Ginny added, obviously thinking along the same lines.

“No, I stuck my head in there to check if she was about. That’s always the first place I look for her,” Ron pointed out.

“Miss Granger left the house early this morning,” Kreacher croaked.

“Really? Did she say where she was going?” Harry asked.

“I’m afraid not,” Kreacher replied. “I got the impression she was trying not to be seen by anyone when she left. Perhaps she went back to the Muggles?”

“All her things are still in her room,” Ron said with a frown, obviously too worried to care about the implications of his words.

“Do you think she went to see her parents?” Ginny suggested.

“She hasn’t exactly been on good terms with them, has she?” Ron reminder her. “Besides, it would be a big risk to take, wouldn’t it? That just wouldn’t be like her, at all.”

Further conversation was halted by the Floo activating and a panicky Luna leaping out.

“Is it true?” she demanded. “What the Muggles are saying, is it true?”

“What are the Muggles saying?” Harry asked in confusion.

Luna ignored him and looked frantically around the room. “Where’s Hermione?” she demanded.

“We don’t know. We were just talking about it, actually. Kreacher says she snuck out early this morning,” Ginny told her friend.

“Oh, no!” Luna wailed. “We always listen to the Muggle news on the radio each morning, just to keep tabs on things. They announced this morning that they’d just captured one of the leaders of the terrorist group they’ve been fighting, and they said her name was Granger! She’s been taken to the MI5 headquarters here in London for interrogation.”

Ron cried out in dismay while Harry sat back in his chair, stunned. Hermione wouldn’t have left the house without a good reason, and he’s bet his last Galleon that it had something to do with her parents. Either she’s been spotted entering the house, or her parents had betrayed her. Either way, this was a disaster.

“We’ve got to get her back,” Harry said firmly.

“But how? Don’t you think it was a little suspicious that the Muggles announced where they were taking her? I wouldn’t be surprised if this is a trap to capture us all,” Ginny said.

“Of course it’s a trap,” Harry growled. “They’d be stupid not to try and use her like that.”

“Then what do we do?” Ron demanded.

“We walk into the trap, but we arrange a little insurance, first,” he smiled grimly.









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