Dylan groaned in pain as he regained consciousness. His body
ached everywhere because of the way he had fought in Hogsmeade.
Opening, his eyes, he blinked in panic when he realised that he was
in a small room. There were two mattresses on the floor, the other
being occupied by –
"Daphne!" he cried frantically. "Daph, please wake up!"
She winced in pain and opened her eyes. Daphne blinked at him and
croaked out, "Where are we?"
"I don't know, but I'm pretty sure we're not at Hogwarts," said Dylan
grimly.
"Oh, great," muttered Daphne as she sat up. "We've been
kidnapped."
They sat there in silence for five minutes after which Daphne got up
and began examining the room. Their wands and lockets were all
taken away and since they couldn't even summon a house-elf, she
carefully touched the walls of the room, trying to see if there was a
hidden passageway.
"What are you doing?" asked Dylan curiously.
"Trying to find a way out," she replied quietly. Just as she neared the
door, it opened, revealing a middle-aged man with dark brown hair
and very familiar looking grey eyes.
Dylan gasped. "Father," he breathed, his eyes wide in shock and
recognition.
Rabastan Lestrange felt his heart clench when he entered the room
and observed Dylan. Had the boy just uttered the one word he had
been longing to hear since he had found out about his son? He could
definitely see the family resemblance in the boy. The cleft chin that
was dominant in his family over the past two generations was
present and the grey eyes were also another indication. Dylan's hair
was a lighter shade of brown with slight curls, no doubt inherited
from his mother, and his face was on the thinner side as well. All in
all, Rabastan had to admit that his son was a very good-looking boy,
a real eye catcher once he grows up. He reached up and gently
cupped his son's face. He couldn't believe he was finally meeting the
boy he had been pining for so long.
"Dylan," said Rabastan softly as he stroked the boy's face lightly with
his thumb. He suddenly felt uncomfortable. He had wanted to meet
his son for so long and yet now that they were face to face, he didn't
know how to react. After a minute of staring at each other, several
emotions and thoughts running through their minds, Rabastan took
out a slip of parchment and showed it to them. "Read this."
Not having a choice, Dylan and Daphne read what was written on
the piece of parchment.
The residence of the Dark Lord can be found on the highest hill in
the village of Little Hangleton
"Follow me," ordered Rabastan. "If you both try to escape, you'll be
very sorry indeed."
Daphne and Dylan gripped each other's hand tightly as they followed
the older man. They only hoped that Harry and the Ministry would
find them soon.
Rabastan Apparated and they found themselves before a
handsome-looking manor. Moving away from the entrance hall, they
were quickly taken to the ballroom which had been converted into
Voldemort's throne room. When they entered, they saw the Dark
Lord sitting on a throne, with Bellatrix and Rodolphus by his side.
Dylan winced slightly as he and Daphne were pushed to their knees,
forcing them to kneel in front of him.
"Daphne Greengrass and Dylan Lestrange," said Voldemort silkily.
"Welcome to my home."
"Lord Voldemort," said Daphne, looking directly at the Dark Lord.
"Thank you, but we would be more welcome at a place where we
belong."
"Crucio!"
"NO!" shouted Dylan but it was too late.
Daphne was twitching and screaming as the curse impacted her,
even if it was only for a few seconds. Her eyes gleamed with hatred,
flashing an eerie white for an instant, dark blonde hair falling over
her eyes as she glared at her attacker.
"Don't you dare speak the Dark Lord's name," hissed Bellatrix angrily
as she lowered her wand.
Rodolphus grimaced as he looked at Dylan's reaction. This was not
the way he wanted to meet his nephew.
"I must admit, I am surprised, Miss Greengrass," said Voldemort
twirling his wand in his hand. "Not many people are brave enough to
say my name, let alone do so in front of me."
"You're forgetting who I'm betrothed to," said Daphne, getting her
breathing under control.
"Ah yes, of course … Harry Potter's fiancée; how lovely to have you
here, my dear. And here we have the scion of House Lestrange.
Dylan, isn't it?"
"Yes," said Dylan through gritted teeth.
"Oh my, so much hostility for one so young," said Voldemort in
amusement, looking at the boy with red, pitiless eyes. "Yes, I can
see the resemblance. You have Rabastan's eyes. How was your
meeting with your father, Dylan? Excited to finally come home?"
"The first person who comes under the purview of family is my
brother," said Dylan quietly, clenching his fists. "Home is always
where my brother is. I would happily live on the streets if I had him
with me. Since Harry is not here, I'm not at home, nor is this my
home."
Rabastan frowned as he heard that statement. What did Dylan mean
by that? Wasn't the boy happy to be reunited with him, his father?
"How touching … such devotion towards a boy who is not even
related to you by blood; don't worry, Dylan. Your brother will be here
soon enough. In fact, he was supposed to come here tonight with
you, but my servants messed up. I have told them repeatedly not to
underestimate Harry Potter, but do they listen?"
Voldemort summoned a silver instrument and placed it on a table
next to his throne. Extracting two wands, he placed them on it,
getting the readings through a slip of parchment.
"These are your wands, aren't they? Walnut and Dragon Heartstring,
twelve and a half inches; Bella, you might want to keep an eye on
Miss Greengrass here; both your wands are nearly identical in
nature. And you, Dylan, Rowan and Phoenix feather, twelve and a
quarter inches ..."
"Yes, can we please go now?" Dylan winced when his head was
shoved down painfully.
"Mind your language around the Dark Lord, Dylan," said Rabastan
harshly. "You should be honoured that he is taking time to talk to you
at all and is this the way you respond to him? Do you have a death
wish?"
"I don't have a death wish, Father, but it is difficult to talk to him when
I have nothing to say. I just want to know why we are here."
"You are here so that you can be amongst your family again," said
Rabastan angrily. "What's wrong with you, Dylan? I thought you
would be more excited and happy in finally meeting us for the first
time, but you don't seem to behave that way at all. Do you know how
long your Uncle Rodolphus and I have been wanting to see you and
talk to you? Is it because of Dumbledore? What did that old bastard
do? Has he brainwashed you over the years?"
"I'm not stupid enough to listen to that manipulative old goat," Dylan
frowned. "Yes, I have always wanted to meet you, Father, but I also
hoped that it would be under better circumstances. I never thought I
would be the prisoner."
"You would have preferred me to have been the prisoner instead?"
asked Rabastan in disbelief. "Do you take pleasure in your own
father being trapped and tortured in a cell in Azkaban?"
"You took pleasure in torturing Frank and Alice Longbottom into
insanity and trapped them in their minds forever, and then doing the
same to my mother, albeit differently. Compared to that, you got off
pretty lightly, Father."
"Why you little shit!" snarled Rabastan furiously as he slapped Dylan
hard. Dylan didn't utter a sound as fell face-first on the floor. Soft
hands picked him up and hugged him protectively. Even though she
was sitting on the ground, covered in bloodstains, Daphne managed
to retain her regal look as she looked at Rabastan haughtily.
"Tsk, tsk," Voldemort clicked his tongue mockingly. "Such behaviour
is quite unbecoming of someone of your station, Dylan. Insulting
your own father? What would the world say?"
"The world already calls me all the possible names, so another
shouldn't count," said Dylan quietly as he wrapped an arm around
Daphne's waist, hugging her closer. "Let us go."
"So soon? I still have a question to ask you. Will you join us, Dylan?
Will you take your place at your father's side and become a Death
Eater like him, your uncle, aunt and grandfather? Think about the
honour that shall be bestowed upon you. Not many can boast of
three generations of Death Eaters. You, unlike Draco Malfoy and
Theodore Nott, are not weak. You cannot escape, so don't try it. As
for your brother, Harry will also be given a choice to join me. I know
that he will join me this time and become a Death Eater. Join me and
you both can stand proudly by my side as I conquer the world."
Grey and blue eyes fixed on red as they stared at one another.
"Never," said Daphne quietly and clearly. "My loyalty is to one person
only for all eternity and that person is my fiancé. No one else."
"My brother is my life," said Dylan promptly. "I know what you offered
him. I know that he turned you down even after you offered him a
place as your son. If he did not join you then, he will not join you
now. I will not betray my brother."
Voldemort's eyes grew cold. "Even if it means going against your
father?" he asked, his anger barely restrained.
Dylan looked at the furious face of Rabastan Lestrange. He had
seen the affection in his father's eyes before, but now that the older
man realised they were not on the same side, there was only anger
– and dare he say it, pain and sadness. Rodolphus didn't meet
Dylan's eyes either. All his dreams of spoiling his nephew seemed to
be crashing around his ears and there was nothing he could do to
prevent it. The Dark Lord's word was law, after all.
"I can live with myself if I go against my father, but I cannot live with
myself if I go against my brother."
" Crucio! "
Daphne and Dylan screamed and thrashed around in intense pain,
but after ten seconds, the Dark Lord stopped.
"So be it," said Voldemort coldly. "Bella, take them to the dungeons
and convince them to make the right choice."
"You're going to accept what he says and allow your own son to be
tortured?" asked Daphne angrily, disgust clear on her face as she
looked at Rabastan.
"If he really were my son he would not stand against me," spat
Rabastan, trying to hide the obvious pain he felt, forcing the tears
away. "He's being a rebel and rebellious children are punished,
aren't they? Well, I hope Dylan learns his lesson before we talk again
and then , if he is willing to make the right choice, I'll accept him as
my son!"
"You disgust me," spat Daphne. "And you ," she rounded on
Voldemort, her deep blue eyes glowing an eerie white, not showing a
hint of fear as she pointed her hand at the Dark Lord threateningly.
"Be warned, Voldemort. Harry will come for us. You have made a
grave error in kidnapping us. You have already declared your death
sentence. I don't know if I will live to see him again, but when he kills
you, when you are at the brink of death after Harry conquers you,
remember me !"
" Crucio! "
Voldemort lowered his wand as he saw the twitching sixteen-year-old
girl be led away from the throne room by Bellatrix. How dare she
threaten him? Bella would ensure the girl got what was coming to
her. Harry would kill him, would he? Well, he would kill Harry Potter
first ! It matters not how useful Harry's loyalty could be for his future
plans. He had given the boy a chance to join him and Harry had
declined. He had to remember now that Harry Potter was the boy
prophesied to kill him. He would not take the chance anymore. The
plan to retrieve the prophecy sphere from the Department of
Mysteries was not going well, but it was only a matter of time before
he would gain access to the Ministry.
Harry Potter would be taken care of as soon as possible. This,
Voldemort was sure of. He would kill the boy himself. He was not
worried about the boy killing him. His Horcruxes were all safe.
What could a fifteen, nearly sixteen-year-old boy, however talented,
do against an immortal, invincible Dark Lord? Nothing and no one
could defeat Lord Voldemort!
A golden eagle flew above the skies of Little Hangleton, not really
attracting any sort of attention from the people below. It was a
mundane eagle, so people didn't really bother with it as it glided over
the village. However, to those who could observe it, they would
realise that the bird was quite unique. The eyes for one weren't
yellow like they were supposed to be – they were a brilliant shade of
green. There was also a dark patch in the feathers above its right
eye in the shape of a lightning bolt.
The eagle seemed to be searching for something, but it could not
find what it was looking for.
After half an hour of gliding over the village, the eagle flew high
above the clouds, twisted in a way that should not have been
possible for an eagle, and disappeared.
The eagle appeared again suddenly in the sky above Scotland.
Descending into the Forbidden Forest, the eagle changed into the
form of a teenage boy. The boy was more than six feet tall, had silky
jet black hair and cold emerald green eyes. Taking long strides, the
boy walked towards Hogwarts Castle as if he were on a mission.
Entering the Slytherin common room without even needing the
password, Harry walked towards the rooms of the fifth years and
opened the door and entered without invitation.
"Good evening, Draco," said Harry coldly as he stepped into the
room. "You and I need to talk."
"About what?" asked Draco, his eye twitching in anger.
He was seething. It was Potter's fault that the mission had failed. If
anything happened to his parents, it was because of Potter and his
interference. His fist tightened and his knuckles turned white as he
tried to control his anger. No, he couldn't attack Potter. The younger
boy was too powerful and Draco knew he would stand no chance in
a fight with the Potter heir.
"About your loyalty to Voldemort … and the fate you have in store,
should you make the right decision. Give me all the information you
have on Voldemort's headquarters."
"Why should I help you?" asked Draco, a sneer automatically
forming on his face.
He realised his mistake a little too late as he was thrown against the
wall painfully. A second later, Draco realised that he was being
choked. Harry Potter seemed to be using wandless magic to lift him
off the ground, lightly squeezing his throat in the process.
Harry loomed dangerously over the boy as he released his hold on
Draco, making the Malfoy scion fall to the hard floor.
"You don't have a choice, brat . Answer my question, now. Why the
Fidelius? I thought Voldemort didn't care for that charm."
"It's not much of a protection, but more of a deterrent," explained
Draco, gasping for air after Harry released him. "He doesn't want
people actively looking for the place. If it is invisible, how can the
enemy even think of launching an attack?"
Harry hummed. "So there are plenty of other protective
enchantments in place, I assume?" he asked mildly.
"I don't know what wards he has put up, but I expect there are
plenty," said Draco slowly. "But I do know this; those wards were
recently installed, so I'm not sure how powerful they are yet."
Harry nodded in understanding. Riddle Manor – even if he could not
remember what it was called or where it was – was a Muggle home
which meant that there were no ward stones placed underground
during construction. It was not designed by a wizarding architect.
Voldemort must have done it recently once he realised the
advantages he had in having his own manor, even if he hated his
Muggle father. The Dark Lord hated depending on everyone, so why
should he live at someone else's house when he had his own?
Riddle Manor was hardly small. Draco was right. Even if there were
lots of protective wards and enchantments, they could be broken by
an army. If the army didn't know where to find the manor, there would
be no question of launching an attack at all.
"Who is the Secret Keeper? How does it work?" asked Harry quietly.
"Aunt Bella. Whenever a new recruit is brought to the place, they are
given a slip of parchment on which the location is written in her
handwriting."
"I see," said Harry slowly, stroking his chin as he thought about the
possibilities. "Now, let's discuss your recent actions."
Draco palmed his wand, but he found, much to his shock, that he
was frozen, magically bound by the younger boy.
"Don't make another mistake, Draco," said Harry, as his eyes
darkened. "I understand that you were forced to do this, but don't
think that absolves you of your crime. You also had a choice. It was
your decision to help that bastard and you helped him kidnap
Daphne and Dylan. Your decision led to injury and death. Don't play
the pity card in front of me. I'm your cousin through blood and Dylan
is your cousin through marriage. Where's the family loyalty, brat?"
"I didn't know of the kidnapping!" said Draco heatedly.
"Maybe so," said Harry coldly. "You know what? Let's make a deal.
I'll ensure that you are not sent to prison, or worse, sentenced to the
Dementor's Kiss. Convincing the Council of Magical Law won't be
too hard."
"In return for what?" asked Draco wearily, shuddering at the mere
thought of having to spend several years in Azkaban.
"Swear fealty to the House of Potter."
There was a pause for several seconds as Draco looked at Harry as
though unable to believe what he had just heard. Recovering, he
spat, "Never! The House of Malfoy bows to no one! We won't be
anyone's puppet! Besides, I'm not the Head of House for me to
swear loyalty to you."
"Is that so?" asked Harry dangerously. "Your family has lost its
power, Draco. You yourself said that your father is not valued by
Voldemort as before. Your political power is non-existent. You have
nothing to back your pride. If Voldemort finds you, you're as good as
dead for failing in the mission he assigned to you. Albus Dumbledore
is very much alive. Don't be a fool. You are the heir of House Malfoy.
Swear fealty to the House of Potter and protect yourself, or trust me,
I will make your death very painful indeed."
Truthfully, Harry had no intention of killing Draco, but the threat was
enough to make the boy sweat, especially after he had witnessed
Harry's fight with Snape. The Malfoy heir was more useful to him
alive than dead, especially if he could force the boy to swear fealty to
the Potter family.
Such a phenomenon hadn't been seen for more than fifteen hundred
years, but Harry was beyond pissed with the Malfoy family. Their
actions, starting with Abraxas Malfoy, were what caused this war in
the first place. Without his very first Death Eaters, especially
Abraxas, Voldemort would never have gained as much power as he
had. With Lucius opening the Chamber of Secrets with the help of
the diary Horcrux and Draco's role in Daphne and Dylan's
kidnapping, Harry didn't feel any remorse in manipulating the boy in
front of him. The House of Potter deserved vengeance for being
wronged by so many people in recent years.
An hour later, Harry walked out of the Slytherin Common Room,
intending to meet his father. His new ally had given him information;
information which the Ministry of Magic would find useful.
HP*SAVIOUR OF MAGIC*HP
Harry watched Elizabeth and Astoria Greengrass weeping in the
corner, his heart filled with guilt. Had he not been betrothed to their
daughter, Daphne would never have been targeted. He had
expected them to blame him, but they had not. Cyrus had only
demanded an explanation.
"Voldemort wanted to kidnap Daphne from what we have found out,"
said Sirius quietly as they sat in his study at Black Manor. "However,
given recent attacks, it is clear that his motives were much more
than that. He obviously wanted to kidnap Dylan and Harry too,
though why I have no idea."
"I know why," said Harry. When they faced him, he said, "Voldemort
wants me as a Death Eater. The night of the third task, he actually
offered to adopt me as his son, but I declined. He still believes that I
can be turned, which was why he went after Daphne. If he holds her
prisoner, I would dance like a puppet and through me, he can control
you, the Minister of Magic, which is exactly what he is hoping for.
Dylan is a different matter. Voldemort knows how strong our bond is
and he is also Rabastan's son. It would be a great asset to have
Dylan on their side instead of ours."
"Harry found more things in Dumbledore's mind," said Sirius with a
grimace. "It appears he knew about the kidnapping attempt on
Daphne, but he didn't do anything against it. In fact, he encouraged it
when Snape said it could make him more trusted amongst the Death
Eaters should they succeed."
"What?" hissed Cyrus angrily. "You mean the old goat knew that
Daphne was going to be kidnapped and did nothing? Why?"
"It's all for the greater good, though how he thought he could end the
war with Daphne being kidnapped is beyond me," said Harry quietly.
"I found out that he sacrificed my parents to end the last war as well.
There is a prophecy about me and Voldemort; that's why my parents
went into hiding in the first place. He leaked the prophecy to
Voldemort through Snape and when my parents were too good at
not getting caught, he took the second attack on Potter Manor as an
advantage and placed them under the Fidelius Charm with Pettigrew
as the Secret Keeper. How did it matter if two adults and an infant
died if Voldemort could be defeated as well? How did it matter if the
members of the Order of the Phoenix were sacrificed if he could
save the general magical and Muggle population from Voldemort's
wrath? He is a most effective chess master and yes, his actions did
cause Voldemort's downfall, but in the end, he became exactly what
he was trying to destroy while telling himself that he was different."
Truthfully, Harry was not really surprised by Dumbledore's actions
because deep down, he had suspected it. Thousands of witches and
wizards had been killed by Voldemort and his Death Eaters and
Dumbledore had been desperate. He was leading the war effort so
as any effective leader would do, he sacrificed a few to save many. It
was no doubt efficient. Just like Voldemort, Dumbledore had been
doing everything he could to win the war. His actions were
disgusting, betraying people whose loyalty in him was unshakable,
but Harry could understand Dumbledore's motives. He may not
agree with them, and he may hate Dumbledore for eternity for what
he had done to his parents, but he understood .
But he would never forgive Dumbledore for leaving him at the
Dursleys and raising him like a weapon that was to be deployed and
destroyed at the right time. He would never forgive Dumbledore for
putting Sirius in Azkaban for ten years when there was no need for it.
He would never forgive Dumbledore for the way he sacrificed
Daphne, just to protect Snape's rank in Voldemort's inner circle.
Harry wasn't lying when he said that he would let the world burn to
protect Daphne and Dylan. Yes, some would not consider that to be
a good trait, but Harry was not 'good' in the traditional sense when it
concerned the people he loved. When he loved, he loved
passionately and did not do things halfway. He would get his fiancée
and brother back.
A world without Daphne and Dylan was not a world he wanted to live
in.
Cyrus clutched his head as tears filled his eyes. "Is there any means
by which we can get Daphne back?" he croaked. The only reason he
knew his daughter was still alive was because of an ancient blood
magic ritual. But even blood was useless in tracking her down and
he only hoped that she wasn't badly hurt.
Sirius stroked his chin as he looked out of the window. Ten minutes
later, in the bowels of the enormous building that housed the
headquarters of the British Ministry of Magic, Sirius opened a black
door with a golden handle which led him to the Department of
Mysteries.
Daphne groaned in pain as she tried to sit up. Bellatrix was truly a
sadistic bitch. Daphne had never felt more pain in her life. She was a
mess, with blood all over her robes and a nasty looking gash on her
cheek. The sleeves of her robes were ripped and she was still
shaking badly from the after-effects of the Cruciatus Curse. She
grimaced as she saw Dylan stir beside her. Carefully helping him sit,
she tore a piece of her dress and dabbed the wounds on his face
with it.
"We need to find a way to get the hell out of here," muttered Dylan,
wincing in pain, a tear flowing down his pale face. He too looked a
mess, his shirt ripped in several places with cuts on his face and
body.
"I agree," said Daphne quietly. "Wandless magic would keep us alive
for a while, but we can't conjure food, only water. I'm not sure if
they'll provide food, but it is best if we keep our options open. We
only have one other ability left which might help us."
Dylan looked at her curiously. "What is that?"
"How far along are you with the Animagus transformation?"
He sighed in frustration. "I'm so close yet so far away! I know what
my form is, but I'm not able to completely transform! Why do you
ask?" asked Dylan curiously.
Daphne smirked darkly, the anger clearly visible in her deep blue
eyes. "There might be wards that keep witches and wizards in here
trapped," she whispered. "But what about animals? Can they keep
us in if we turn into animals?"
"Our forms are also lethal," breathed Dylan, realisation dawning on
him.
"We both know that Bellatrix would be back for another round," said
Daphne grimly. "If we can surprise her and kill her off, we might be
able to escape undetected."
"Oh well," said Dylan as he stretched, wincing in pain. "A dangerous
plan is better than no plan at all."
A man wearing a large black cloak was prowling around Knockturn
Alley. His face was covered by a hood as he walked in long,
confident strides. He was here to meet someone. He turned a corner
and found the place he was looking for – a shabby pub which looked
empty at first glance. Going inside, he ignored the stares as he
walked up to the barman.
"I'm here to meet my contact," he said in a low voice. "Identification –
Pureblood 2689 ."
The barman nodded. "Walk up the stairs; it's the first room you find
on the left," he said gruffly. The man in the hood left a single silver
coin on the table which the surprised barman took immediately.
Walking up the stairs with supreme confidence, his hands inside the
deep pockets of his robes, he came across a door to the left. He
knocked on the door once, twice, thrice in a pattern. There was a
creak as the door opened automatically.
The man entered without invitation. If he was startled by the
ridiculous pink wallpapers and kitten plates, he didn't show it.
"Ah, our newest client," said a very fake, extremely surgery sweet
voice. "Identification?"
"Pureblood 2689," said the man smoothly in a deep voice. He looked
around and saw that there wasn't a chair for him to sit, so he flicked
his wand in a fraction of a second and conjured a comfortable
armchair for himself. The wand was out of sight immediately.
"Ah, yes," said the woman. " Hem, hem . Your name?"
The man paused. "Wilson, Evan Wilson."
The woman was dressed in a pink cardigan and the sweet
expression on her face was clearly fake. The man could see the cold
blue eyes, just barely concealed by her cheerful demeanour. She,
quite frankly, resembled a large, fat toad. Just looking at her was
enough for anyone to hate her and her giggle wasn't helping either.
"I heard from some reliable sources that there are those here who
could use my services," said Wilson smoothly. "The source also said
that I had to go through you to gain access to the upper levels."
"I'm not sure what you are talking about, Mr Wilson," said the woman
sweetly. "I am simply a businesswoman, nothing more. I don't think
you are the type of client I would prefer. You may leave."
"What do you take me for, Madam Umbridge?" asked Wilson
dangerously and with a swift wave of his wand, she was bound
tightly. "I know what sort of business you are running here and I'm
not here as your client . I want you to help me get in contact with
important people. I'm not interested in you ," he said with a sneer.
"Y-You can't do this!" whispered Dolores in fear and anger. "Do you
know who I am?"
"An employee of the Improper Use of Magic Office at the British
Ministry of Magic," said Wilson with a dark smirk. "The former Senior
Undersecretary to Minister Fudge, but that job went down the drain
when he got sacked and Minister Black came to power. But I must
say, I never expected a prostitution ring ... oh, may Lord Hades have
mercy on your soul. What have your parents taught you, my dear?
Crucio!"
Dolores screamed and screamed but there was no one there to hear
her; the wards ensured that. After a sufficient amount of time,
knowing that she would not be able to rebel, Wilson pointed his
wand at her.
" Imperio !"
"You will recommend me to Lucius Malfoy."
Dolores nodded blankly. Once she was done and had sent the letter
through owl post, the assassin obliviated her and the barman and
walked out of the pub. Sneering at Umbridge's clients , he decided to
do something about it.
That pub in Knockturn Alley had been raided that night by the Aurors
and many people were arrested, including one Dolores Umbridge,
who had been swiftly dozed with Veritaserum, revealing her
involvement in the attempted murder of Harry Potter by repeatedly
sending Dementors to Nottingham to have him kissed. The victims of
the prostitution ring were sent St Mungo's to recover. A plot which
had been going on for nearly a decade had been uncovered, just
because an assassin named Evan Wilson had needed Umbridge's
help to get to Lucius Malfoy.
"It's risky," said Croaker, Head of the Department of Mysteries,
frowning. "Are you sure it won't be detected?"
"I'm counting on it, sir," said Harry impassively. "I'm not saying it is
foolproof, but at least it isn't something as obvious as a simple
glamour or the Polyjuice Potion."
Under Crocker's watchful gaze, Harry stepped in front of a mirror as
he pointed his wand at his face and began hissing. The books he
had found in the Chamber of Secrets had been very useful,
especially the Parseltongue spells. This was an ancient variety of the
glamour charm, so Harry was hoping that it could not be detected or
countered that easily. The black hair changed to red, the high
cheekbones sank lower, the nose shortened, the lips thickened
slightly and the eyes turned from green to a darker shade. The skin
tone also became darker as he finished his glamour.
"What do you think?"
"I wouldn't recognise you as Harry Potter," Sirius replied after a
pause. "Good, I think this should do it. Algernon, give it a try."
Croaker pointed his wand at Harry's face and fired a powerful
reversal spell. The glamour didn't budge. "You're right, it works."
"How are we going to communicate?"
"We can't. Communicating with us would put you at risk, but we have
found a way to track your movements and listen to what is going on."
The Unspeakable extracted a very small crystal. "We'll put this inside
you so that any conventional scans of a Probity Probe cannot detect
it. We'll be monitoring you constantly so once you know that you are
in trouble, we'll help."
"When you said you're going to put it inside me, what exactly does
that mean?" asked Harry; his voice was steady and cold as always,
but he seemed wary. He had a bad feeling about this.
Croaker simply raised an eyebrow. "We'll need you to drop your
trousers and underwear for that," he said, sounding faintly amused,
a hint of a smile forming on his usually stony face.
"I thought so," muttered Harry. "Wait, if you stick it up there, it will
come out when you try to remove it, right? I don't want to have a tiny
crystal stuck up my arse for the rest of my life."
"It'll be fine," said Croaker dismissively.
"Easy for you to say, you're not the one having it," said Harry darkly