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Return of an Alpha | ||||||
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Category: Alternate Universe Characters:All Genres: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama Warnings: Death, Mild Language Story is Complete Rating: PG-13 Reviews: 409 Summary: For three years, Harry has been Becoming Alpha of Hogwarts. Now another Alpha is returning, bringing with him darkness, chaos, and battle. Watch as sides line up for war, and people and society change. Hitcount: Story Total: 169693; Chapter Total: 3617 Author's Notes: Thanks to Arnel for the Beta work and the article at the end of the chapter. |
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Harry stood in front of the seventh years just two days after Christmas Break, looking over them as they dueled one another to be sure they had followed orders over the holiday, which they appeared to have done. In his mind, Harry saw two images at once: the seventh years and the Auror trainees Samuel and Tonks were training. As of now they were at almost the same level, but Harry knew that by the time they were done this year, the seventh years would be beyond the Aurors. The idea would probably shock the seventh years, but it was the truth, Harry knew, as he thought about the pace they were keeping as they learned how to truly duel. Finally, Harry called, “Enough!” The seventh years stopped, and Tracey and Ginny rejoined him at the front of the group. Water bottles were grabbed and half drunk in one gulp, towels used to wipe sweat from brows. Even while they all did this, though, all the students were paying attention. “I believe you’re all ready for the next step in your training,” Harry stated, and the two girls gave him sharp looks, but he just grinned slightly. The seventh years were excited but also wary, having learned that the unknown was not something they enjoyed from this trio. With a thought, Harry watched the wall behind the group transform, the Room doing its job. Along the wall were rows of swords and daggers, just waiting for the seventh years to begin using them. “Your next stage in training is behind you,” Harry informed them with a grin, and everyone turned and froze in shock. “Take only the dagger that feels completely balanced in your hand. No swords just yet.” “We’re really going to learn how to use those?” Lee Jordan asked, his eyes wide. “Of course!” Ginny exclaimed with a grin. “Otherwise we wouldn’t have even mentioned it.” “It gives us an unexpected edge because most wizards don’t expect swords or daggers, especially from kids,” Tracey said, the last word with a sarcastic edge to it. “We’ll spend the rest of this lesson learning the basic moves with a dagger as well as a few tips that you’ll find will help you in a fight,” Harry finished. “Now go grab the dagger that fits you so that we can begin.” The seventh years needed no further prompting to move to the far wall. As they searched, the girls turned to Harry. “Are they ready for this, Harry?” Tracey asked, and just raised an eyebrow. “I know, I should trust myself, but I think it’s still a little early for them.” “Trace, I’d normally agree with you, but these guys have NEWTs coming up while we take the OWLs, so we’ll all have less time in a few months,” Harry sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose under his glasses. “If we don’t start a little early, we won’t get the chance to train them properly enough so that they can continue on their own after Hogwarts.” When Tracey still looked a bit dubious, Ginny added, “He has a point, Tracey. You know this is the group we have the least amount of time with, so we need to move them along faster than any of us will like.” “Fine,” Tracey finally sighed, and Harry knew she was mostly just worried about training them wrong. “Let’s get to work, then.” Nodding, Harry turned to look at the seventh years, most of whom already had found their daggers to use. “Patronuse s?” Katie asked in surprise as Harry worked alone with the sixth years only a week after break. “Yes,” Harry said. “With Voldemort back, it’s only a matter of time before he uses the Dementors again, which means you all need to learn how to use a Patronus. The next several lessons will be only the Patronus and normal physical training.” “Can you show us yours?” Ron asked, speaking up for the first time that day. The others looked just as interested as the redhead. “Expecto Patronum,” Harry called quietly, his wand pointed above the heads of the older students. “Everyone, meet Prongs, one of the few connections to my father that I have,” Harry said as the silver stag galloped to the ground and around the room, looking for a danger before it just walked among them. “Wow, it’s so pretty,” Cho gasped, and Harry smiled sadly. “Unfortunately, Cho, they’re not meant to be pretty, though you’re quite right that they’re beautiful,” Harry said, allowing his magic to wane so that Prongs disappeared. “A Patronus is hard to learn, and it’s even harder to use against a Dementor. What you have to do is think of a time when you were truly happy, or felt loved. Everyone, think of a time now.” Harry fell silent as the sixth years and Ron closed their eyes to think. He knew this was only the basic way to learn, but if they saw results from the very beginning, he would be able to teach them what sort of thing a Patronus truly needed to work. “Once you have your memory, allow that feeling to fill you up, and then say the incantation Expecto Patronum,” Harry continued as he saw eyes opening around the group. Soon the room was filled with calls and silver wisps, but the group was pleased with itself when Harry told them it was really good. Now what they had to do was try to think of happy emotions whether they were love, happiness, or laughter, it could even be all of them together, and Harry informed them of this. Once they understood this idea, Harry told them all to just keep practicing the spell, and he walked among them then, giving advice on memories and emotions, telling someone when he or she needed a stronger thought in mind. All in all, the teens were quite pleased and proud at their work by the time they had to leave, even though none had a Corporal Patronus. Harry forced himself to stay silent as he left the Defense classroom with his friends, his face an emotionless mask and his normally shining green eyes dull. When they finally got to the boys’ dormitory, he went straight to the wall and punched it as he screamed pure fury. The adrenaline and anger kept the sharp pain of his hand from reaching his brain even as the others rushed over, Tracey grasping his hand lightly as she looked it over. “Why?” Harry snarled quietly, but he knew the others heard him. “Why would anyone put that — that bitch at a school full of students?!” A sudden heat in his hand reached his brain, and he looked at his right hand to see Tracey’s wand pointed at it, probably healing the bone he broke by punching the stone wall. The open wounds were already closed and the blood cleaned off. “How could she have gotten worse in just a month?” Harry asked rhetorically, knowing his friends had no answer. “It’s only been two weeks since break!” “She’s planning something,” Daphne said, and Harry turned along with the others to face her, but they all knew she was right. “Something’s going to happen, and soon,” Draco said in agreement, nodding. “What could make her so pleased that she’d openly taunt you, Harry?” Theo asked. “I mean, she knows that antagonizing you won’t do anything for her because she can’t use a Blood Quill on you for detention.” “I don’t know why she did it, but I was about to snap in there,” Harry sighed, sitting on his bed. “If the class hadn’t ended when it did, I probably would have.” “We could all see that,” Tracey told him softly, sitting down beside him and placing a hand on his shoulder. “I wish there was some way to get revenge on that woman for all she’s done,” Harry groaned, flopping back onto the bed, pulling off his glasses and putting them on his pillow so that he could cover his face with his hands. “If only she wouldn’t get so much worse because of pranks on her,” Blaise sighed from where he sat with Daphne on his bed. “Then it would be so easy to get revenge.” “The time for pranking will come,” Tracey told the group. “Until then, just think about how many rules we’re breaking because of the Hogwarts Protectors and how annoyed she must be, knowing we’re up to something, but unable to find out what.” Harry cracked a grin at the thought, though he was still covering his eyes with a single hand. “Come on,” Daphne finally sighed. “We’ve got that essay for McGonagall to do.” “At the rate this homework is going, we might have to slow down on the training just because the OWL students are being piled high so much,” Harry grumbled, pulling on his glasses again as he sat up, spotting similar expressions of aggravation on his friends’ faces. “Or we could just have some of the others teach with only one of us there,” Tracey suggested, and Harry paused before shaking his head at his own stupidity. “We could just have Ginny teach the sixth and seventh years as long as others — maybe the twins or Astoria — are there with her,” he told her, and Tracey nodded in agreement. Harry knew it was now a mental note for both of them to talk to Ginny about it as the teachers gave the two of them a larger workload in preparation for the tests in just over four months. Unfortunately for the group, homework was calling them. Astoria nodded to herself as she watched the third years run through the moves she had taught them over and over, walking among her students and correcting one here and there just slightly. They had come along well in the single week they had been using the daggers, she knew. Soon they would be at the point to begin using them left-handed as they had learned to use their wands. After that would come learning to use them while doing their hand-to-hand combat lessons, fighting one another with dulled blades. At least using the daggers had stopped the complaints of physical training because everyone had realized why they had been forced to do them; one doesn’t use a weapon like a dagger or sword without being able to move well. Pleased with the results, Astoria went back up to the front of the group and pulled out her own dagger, turning so that her back was to them as she walked them through a new series of moves. Neville walked up to the second years, Hannah just behind him and to his right. The two twelve-year-olds they were aiming for had their backs to the older pair, but the other second years nodded so that Natalie and Graham turned around quickly, grinning a bit as they spotted their friends. “Can we take a seat?” Neville asked for the pair, gesturing to the two empty spots on either side of their friends, and everyone at the table nodded. “Do you need something?” Natalie asked kindly, looking from Hannah beside her to Neville on the other side of Graham. “As you all probably know and have heard, OWLs are coming up, and the professors are getting worse and worse about homework and revision for the fifth years,” Hannah started, and the second years nodded, though Neville saw poorly-hidden smirks on their faces. He barely held back the urge to shake his head sadly at their thoughts that obviously surrounded the students complaining about OWLs. “It’s going to be hard for the two of us to continue teaching you second years as often once we get closer to June,” Neville added, and at that the smirks disappeared as they looked between the fifth years sadly and with despair in their eyes. “But,” Hannah said, holding up a hand as they began to open their mouths to speak, “we were wondering what your thoughts would be if we combined the first and second years so that Natalie and Graham could cover for us on the days when there is no chance of us being there, with possibly another student not worrying about exams as much as us there to help out.” Graham and Natalie shared raised eyebrows while their friends began whispering excitedly at the prospect of getting to see their leader friends teaching. “There’s no problem with it on our side,” Graham said finally, turning to face Neville while Natalie nodded in agreement. Across the table, three second years were pumping their fists in the air. “Let’s try it tomorrow evening, then,” Hannah suggested, and the five second years all nodded in agreement, allowing Neville to let out a silent sigh of relief. He and Hannah hadn’t been sure if Graham and Natalie would agree to this, and it had been a worry for them, knowing how much more difficult their workloads were about to become. “See you later, Graham, Natalie,” Neville said as he and Hannah stood up to go let some of the others know of the arrangement. The second years just waved as they returned to their earlier conversation. L ord Voldemort stood watching his followers as they began to prepare for their mission. Broomsticks were brought out, robes and masks were put on properly, and groups formed. Everyone knew his job tonight, and it was all Voldemort could ask for as he moved from his spot in the doorway to the front of the room, yew wand drawn. “Tonight,” he said in his voice that reminded most of snakes, “we retrieve our brothers and sisters from Azkaban!” Bella trix Lestrange cackled happily as her Dark Mark burned. The pain was her friend, something she welcomed proudly and with open arms. Nothing she felt from her Mark compared to what she felt from her enraged master, even after all these years. Pulling back her robe sleeve, Bellatrix looked down at the black Mark as it moved from side to side, almost enchanting her as her eyes followed the movement. As she watched, the movement began to gain intensity, the skull’s serpent tongue going from left to right so fast that it looked like a single, thick, immobile line rather than the thin, moving one it was. In her mind, Bellatrix could imagine the snake hissing loudly and intensely, an insistent tone to the hisses. Most wouldn’t know what the Mark’s movement meant, but Bellatrix understood it on a level that most couldn’t. It seemed to be a subconscious thought in her mind, slipping its way through her madness to be sure she understood it completely. Her master was coming for her. Lucius Malfoy was the leader of the group that had been assigned to make sure the Dementors were on their side and would leave the Death Eaters alone. If they didn’t agree peacefully, each person in the group of seven could use a Patronus and knew they were to protect the prison with them. As they landed their brooms on the island, they slipped almost silently to a section of the island that Lucius remembered journeying to many times during the first war. It had become the agreed meeting place between Death Eater and Dementor. Just as they got to the spot, a group of three Dementors swooped to it, the coldness seeping into Lucius’s body growing more intense as he stood merely feet from the creatures. Still, he ignored it as best he could and bowed a little before speaking. “My master, Lord Voldemort, wishes for you to stay at Azkaban for a bit longer to keep your cover. Soon, very soon, the time will be right for you to enjoy yourselves upon the souls of those in Britain. For now, though, he requests that you pass along the message that we Death Eaters, led by the master himself, are here to retrieve our brothers and sisters from the clutches of the Ministry.” Lucius fell silent as the three Dementors turned to one another, talking in a way not even the Dark Lord understood. Within a minute, two of the Dementors had flown off in the direction of the prison, leaving the final to gesture with its skeleton-like hand for the seven men to follow it. Looking over his shoulder, Lucius gestured to his men, mentally scoffing at how they feared the Dementors even though it was obvious the creatures were on their side. Still, his nod and gesture reassured them enough for the group to begin its trek to the entrance of the prison. From there, they could see Dementors gliding off to different areas of the prison, leaving the Death Eaters without Dementor protection. Nodding at the Dementor, Lucius pulled back the sleeve of his left arm and pressed a single finger to the Dark Mark resting there, sending a signal back to his master that the Dementors were out of the way. Theodore Nott Senior led his group of fifteen men into the actual prison, their own mission in mind. The Dark Lord had just given them the go-ahead by burning all of their Marks at once, and after the instinctive wince, they had left their waiting positions immediately, knowing time was of the essence. A full week of studying the designs of the prison, stolen by Malfoy from the Ministry under their noses, allowed easy movement through the labyrinthine corridors, not a single person slowing down in confusion as they stalked forward silently, Silencing Charms having been placed on their feet. Suddenly, footsteps ahead of them made them all freeze, Nott’s left hand raised in the air, fingers out. When it became obvious that the footsteps belonged to a human guard headed in their direction, he gestured for all but two of the men to slip into the shadows, leaving the two Death Eaters to take out the man quickly, Stunning, Body-Binding, and wrapping him up in an instant. Once he had been moved out of their way, they continued on, stopping each time they heard a guard to bind them up as well. Finally, they reached a room deep in the middle of the prison, and they heard voices from within it. A smirk spread out on Nott’s face; the guards had no idea of what was occurring in their own prison. Gesturing to his men, they waited until Nott blasted the doorway in before streaming into the room, Stunning every man in sight. Once all were Stunned, Body-Binds and ropes were placed on them all. All the wands were collected from those met in the corridors as well as in here and were given to Nott, who destroyed them all with a quick fire he immediately put out once they were ash. “Go find the others,” he ordered, and all but one of his men nodded and left, sweeping silently through the prison to get rid of all the guards. The last man went through a storage area in the room to find the wands of their comrades, finding them easily and barely locked up. If only they could have killed them, Nott sighed internally, but their master had no said deaths. Not yet at least. Once the world knew the Dark Lord was back, they could kill all they wanted. For now, though, Stunned and tied up and without a wand was the best they were permitted to do. Too many deaths couldn’t be covered up, but captured and left unconscious could be. One-by-one, the men returned, wands in hand to prove their successes with various guards. Each wand was left on the ashes of the last batch, all destroyed once all fifteen men had returned. “We’re done,” Nott announced, pulling back his left sleeve to touch his Dark Mark to inform their master. “Let’s get out of here.” Lord Voldemort reveled in the feel of a Dark Mark being pressed yet again. This time it was Nott’s, meaning Azkaban was finally ready for him and the group of five other men to enter it and complete the mission. So far, it had been a complete success, and Voldemort felt it would continue to be so with Fudge as Minister, denying his return as he was. Without a word to his men, Voldemort stalked to the stone building. He knew they would follow him without a word. Waving his yew wand at the double doors, Voldemort blasted each door inwards. They bashed into the walls on either side of the doorway. It left his way uninterrupted, though he caught sight of bound men against the walls among the shadows of the dark corridors. Finally, they reached the place where his Death Eaters were awaiting him, most gone with madness but still curable for fighting if he wished it. There were some looking eagerly at their master, and still others had pride shining on their faces as they realized they were being rescued by their master himself. After blasting each prison door open, he left it up to his men to attach a Portkey to each prisoner. He himself only had one extra Portkey, and he knew which follower would be receiving it as he made his way to the final area: the most highly protected section. As he opened the last few doors, Lord Voldemort stopped long enough to help each Death Eater from his Inner Circle to stand, taking in their weak, exhausted, and somewhat mad appearances. He knew they’d be able to fight within a few months, but it was a very lucky thing that he had Severus to brew up potions to help them recover from fourteen years in here. He finally reached the last cell in the prison. Inside was a woman with tangled, black hair hanging in front of her face, who was looking up at him with heavily-lidded blue eyes. The look upon her face was a mixture of adoration, awe, pride, and pure happiness. “Come,” Voldemort said, holding out a hand for his most-trusted follower, who took the hand without hesitation. He led her from the cell, and he saw one of his Death Eaters nod at him, informing him that they were ready. Voldemort handed Bellatrix his spare Portkey before pulling out his own in one hand and tapping it with the other, setting off the chain reaction of Portkeys going off, every single Death Eater feeling the pull behind their navels as they were pulled from the island, hopefully never to see it again. Amelia Bones was awakened by a yell from her Floo, calling for her immediately. Standing, she pulled on a dressing gown and rushed to her fireplace, the face of Samuel Davis staring back at her, an unreadable but obviously bad expression on his face. “What is it, Samuel?” she asked quickly, and he took a deep breath before replying. “Amelia, I was just informed by Tonks, who was on duty tonight at the Ministry just in case because Harry’s scar has been hurting all day, that at least ten Death Eaters have just been broken out of Azkaban not even an hour ago.” Amelia felt her blood run cold as the color left her face, her mind running as she realized how disastrous this could be for them. “How?” was all she could manage to ask. “Those at Azkaban didn’t even see the Stunners hit them,” Samuel reported, and Amelia understood. “Stunned, body-bound, and tied up with ropes?” she asked, and he nodded his affirmative. “Voldemort must have brought his entire force with him to be sure it happened quickly and quietly.” “By the state of the front doors of the prison and the wards, it appears Voldemort himself led this mission,” Samuel added, and Amelia started. Voldemort almost never led an attack himself! “Get as many Aurors as you think we’ll need out there to be sure the other prisoners don’t use this chaos to escape,” Amelia ordered. “As much as I try, I’ll never succeed in getting the Dementors out of Azkaban, so tell the men to use Patronuses around them at all times. I don’t trust the Dementors, so the most I can do is have men there at all times.” “I’ll do it immediately,” Samuel stated. “We’ll have to meet at the Manor tonight,” he added, leaving the moment Amelia had nodded in agreement. Once Samuel had left her fireplace, Amelia rushed back into her bedroom to change. The Aurors needed their boss to be sure they got what she wanted done. MAS S BREAKOUT FROM AZKABAN! DEATH EATERS FREE WITH WANDS! BE ON THE LOOKOUT! Just after midnight last night, ten very dangerous Death Eaters escaped from Azkaban Prison. The mass breakout left the prison’s guards Stunned and tied up and the prison wide open. Details of how the prisoners escaped are sketchy, and the Daily Prophet has every reporter looking into the matter. The Ministry has no comment on this matter at this time. There is no word on how they escaped, but every reporter is looking into it. For information on each escapee, continue to pages 2,3,4,5,6,7, and 9. AN: *Whistles innocently* I thought it would be interesting to show HOW Ol’ Tommy-Boy got those ten Death Eaters out of Azkaban, and what better view point to use than the Death Eaters themselves? If you found that half of the chapter chilling, then I did my job well. |
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