Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Hermione's Furry Little Problem
“My apologies Fawkes,” Dumbledore said with a shake of his head, chuckling as he daintily picked up the pieces of his magical devices and placed them carefully on his desk. “Apparently the Coven’s power levels have yet again reached unanticipated new heights.”
Fawkes ruffled his feathers crossly and peered disdainfully at the Headmaster, unconvinced of the adequacy of the apology. The Phoenix was slightly mollified by the appearance of a plateful of lemon-ginger biscuits.
At the direction of the Headmaster’s wand, the delicate magical instruments began repairing themselves and reconfiguring to support detection of higher frequencies and power levels with far less explosive results.
~o0o~
Bellatrix had been extremely annoyed and disappointed when Fenrir Greyback told her that he and some pack-mates had already killed Yaxley. She had been looking forward to torturing and gutting him. Bellatrix considered some of the others who most deserved to die.
Not the Carrows--Bellatrix hoped to bring them back into the fold. She missed her fun with Alecto. Bellatrix found herself growing misty at the idea of she and Alecto torturing Mudbloods and Muggle-lovers together again--she wanted a good excuse to wear her black leather and break out her whips again.
Lucius!
Her ex-In-Law's cowardly betrayal of the Dark Lord was a personal affront. Bellatrix would break out her whips just for Lucius and his son.
But he was completely inaccessible for the time-being. Lucius was likely laying low at the Minister’s home--and her home’s location was utterly unknown. That was a shame. Bellatrix would have enjoyed breaking Lucius--but perhaps she would get another opportunity.
Then Bellatrix remembered that one of the most Treacherous could likely be found deep in the bowels of the Ministry itself and smiled.
~o0o~
Broderick Bode sighed. He was working late again, wondering if he should resign from the Department of Mysteries. He missed seeing his family, and he was concerned by the rumours swirling through the sub-departments that Operations had something massive in the works.
In fact, Bode had been concerned for a long time--ever since the Operations Division Chief and Head of the Unspeakable Office Umbridge had wormed into a position as Head of the Improper Use of Magic Office--and now she was Minister and ran the entire DMLE as well as the DoM. But there was nothing he could do about it. He was just a lowly technician, and Operations ran everything.
All he had to do was keep his head down and follow orders--or did he? Bode couldn’t speak of what occurred in the Department of Mysteries without risking arrest himself, but that didn’t mean he had to do whatever he was told if it violated his principles.
Bode finished cataloguing and storing the latest magical artifact confiscated after being found in Muggle possession when he heard a shout. He looked up to see Rookwood scowling at him from the doorway.
“Look alive,” snapped the Assistant Chief of Operations, “We have a possible breach in the Atrium...”
“What?” gasped Bode, “But who would be mad enough to break into the Ministry...?”
“That’s what we’re going to find out!” growled Rookwood. “Now shut it and get a move on...”
“Wait...” Bode gulped in trepidation, “I’m just a Magical Artifact Storage tech--I’m not Security...”
“You are now...” Rookwood snarled, “Hurry up or I’ll kill you myself.”
~o0o~
Screams rent the air and the sound of shattering glass and small explosions filled Diagon Alley in the darkening evening as wizards and witches finished shopping for the day and store-keepers began closing procedures. Florean Fortescue shoved the last of his customers through the floo in his office and turned back to face the hooligans rampaging through his Ice Cream shop shooting curses from their wands.
Florean swore when he spotted that he had missed one of his customers lying sprawled on the floor. Dead or alive, he didn’t know. Angrily, Florean fired hexes and curses back at the Snatchers.
He dropped two of them with stunning spells, but when one fired a killing curse and missed, Florean retaliated with a concussive spell that slammed the Snatcher heavily into a brick wall with a sickening crack. The Snatcher screamed in pain and collapsed in a broken heap. Florean magically bound the other two prone Snatchers and stepped over them.
Florean breathed a sigh of relief; he could still feel his customer’s pulse. Steeling himself, Florean carefully peered out of his door to see if there was anyone else he could save. His face fell when he saw through the haze two people lying in the street who were clearly dead.
Further down Diagon Alley, Fenrir Greyback roared in fury. Ollivander’s shop was empty--there were no wands and no wand-dealer to be found. And if the shop had moved, there was no indication of its new location; Ollivander had left no clues.
It was never good to disappoint the Dark Lord--Ollivander must be found. Seething in rage, Greyback set the place ablaze with a Firestorm Spell and disapparated.
~o0o~
Bode’s face went white, but Rookwood was unmoved by the sight of Avery’s body dangling by the neck in the Atrium of the Ministry as the gore from Avery’s disemboweled midsection oozed and dripped to the floor. Avery had clearly been the victim of an entrail expelling curse.
It was too quiet.
Rookwood heard a sudden noise behind him and whirled around too late as an Incarcerus spell bound him from head to foot. Bode collapsed lifeless to the floor, dropped by an Avada Kedavra from Rodolphus Lestrange’s wand.
Bellatrix cackled as she cast a Petrificus Totalus on Rookwood and the ropes of the Incarcerus vanished.
“Those will just get in the way,” the witch said with a lustful gleam in her eyes. She reached into her cloak and pulled out her ceremonial dagger as she knelt beside Rookwood.
“No curses for you Augustus,” purred Bellatrix, drawing a line of red with her dagger across the exposed skin of Rookwood’s forearm, “No, that would be too quick and easy! I think I’ll draw this out slowly--the old-fashioned way...”
Bellatrix cackled and slit another thin red line on Rookwood’s forearm, forming an X through his Dark Mark.
If Rookwood could have screamed, he would have, as the knife came down again, this time aimed at his gut.
~o0o~
Hundreds of fans watching the football match at Sunderland Stadium--the Stadium of Light--began screaming when all the lights and video-cameras went out, and mobile-phone signals were lost. An explosion ripped through the field and a number of muggles fainted as giants tore through the walls and stands.
Snatchers began dropping panicked muggle spectators like flies with curses and stunners, and disapparating with several victims at a time or transporting them via Portkeys. Two dozen Dementors swarmed and began sucking out souls at random.
Lockhart was more careful in choosing his victims, using a discerning eye to locate young muggle girls for himself and Wormtail as he moved through the shrieking and gradually vanishing crowd.
When it was over, the bodies of hundreds lay strewn in the rubble and many were left behind alive, still screaming amid the smouldering ruins of the stadium. Maximum terror had been inflicted, and hundreds more muggles had been captured or killed and taken to be turned into the Dark Lord’s Army of the Dead.
~o0o~
By the time the Minister had flooed back to the Ministry from her home, reporters for the Daily Prophet, the Quibbler, and the International Wizard News Agency were already taking pictures from behind the taped perimeter around the dangling mutilated corpses of Avery and Rookwood; Bode's body lay on the ground nearby. The WNN was doing a live radio report. A glowing green cloud in the shape of a skull and serpent hovered just above the bodies.
There would be no mistaking the hand of Voldemort for the work of a petty thief by the Press this time. Rufus Scrimgeour and numerous Aurors were scouring the area for magical and not so magical evidence, and he gave the Minister the rest of the bad news when she arrived.
“I have fifty Aurors and a Magical Clean-Up squad already in Sunderland,” Scrimgeour scowled at the Minister. “We had to move quickly to obliviate the memories of Giant Involvement from the muggle survivors. And I have another dozen Aurors in Diagon Alley. Florean Fortescue rescued a number of people and captured several Snatchers...”
“This is all clearly part of a coordinated assault by Voldemort’s forces!” the Chief Auror concluded.
“Indeed!” the Minister responded darkly.
The wheels in Minister Dolores Umbridge’s mind began spinning, seeking ways to turn this disaster to her political advantage.
Bode and Avery were no huge loss, but losing Rookwood was a serious blow. However, Dolores nearly had the entire Ministry and the Wizengamot in the palm of her hand, and she still had a whole team of operatives ruthless enough to do deeds as dirty as Rookwood had ever done.
Minister Umbridge needed to locate some of Voldemort’s minions and haul them before the Wizengamot. If she had enough to punish, and played her cards right, this could be the breakthrough Dolores needed to gain a majority on the Wizengamot and begin pushing through her agenda.
“That is two attacks by Voldemort in Tyne and Wear now,” the Minister said sourly. “Voldemort might be located in that region...”
“Possibly, Madam Minister,” interjected Scrimgeour, “I have Aurors scouring the area already. However, that could be a ploy to throw us off his trail altogether, we must be careful not to presume anything at this time.”
“Very true Rufus,” Minister Umbridge nodded. “You seem to have everything well in hand, but please inform me once you have finished interrogating the Snatchers under Veritaserum, and then turn them over to the DoM for further questioning.
“Excuse me, Minister?”
“People only reveal what they believe to be the truth under Veritaserum, and memories can be tampered with--sometimes we must dig much deeper, Rufus. The DoM has the magical means to go deeper--but it is highly top secret of course...”
The Head Auror regarded the Minister shrewdly for a moment before responding with a nod, “Yes Madam, I understand!”
Fawkes ruffled his feathers crossly and peered disdainfully at the Headmaster, unconvinced of the adequacy of the apology. The Phoenix was slightly mollified by the appearance of a plateful of lemon-ginger biscuits.
At the direction of the Headmaster’s wand, the delicate magical instruments began repairing themselves and reconfiguring to support detection of higher frequencies and power levels with far less explosive results.
~o0o~
Bellatrix had been extremely annoyed and disappointed when Fenrir Greyback told her that he and some pack-mates had already killed Yaxley. She had been looking forward to torturing and gutting him. Bellatrix considered some of the others who most deserved to die.
Not the Carrows--Bellatrix hoped to bring them back into the fold. She missed her fun with Alecto. Bellatrix found herself growing misty at the idea of she and Alecto torturing Mudbloods and Muggle-lovers together again--she wanted a good excuse to wear her black leather and break out her whips again.
Lucius!
Her ex-In-Law's cowardly betrayal of the Dark Lord was a personal affront. Bellatrix would break out her whips just for Lucius and his son.
But he was completely inaccessible for the time-being. Lucius was likely laying low at the Minister’s home--and her home’s location was utterly unknown. That was a shame. Bellatrix would have enjoyed breaking Lucius--but perhaps she would get another opportunity.
Then Bellatrix remembered that one of the most Treacherous could likely be found deep in the bowels of the Ministry itself and smiled.
~o0o~
Broderick Bode sighed. He was working late again, wondering if he should resign from the Department of Mysteries. He missed seeing his family, and he was concerned by the rumours swirling through the sub-departments that Operations had something massive in the works.
In fact, Bode had been concerned for a long time--ever since the Operations Division Chief and Head of the Unspeakable Office Umbridge had wormed into a position as Head of the Improper Use of Magic Office--and now she was Minister and ran the entire DMLE as well as the DoM. But there was nothing he could do about it. He was just a lowly technician, and Operations ran everything.
All he had to do was keep his head down and follow orders--or did he? Bode couldn’t speak of what occurred in the Department of Mysteries without risking arrest himself, but that didn’t mean he had to do whatever he was told if it violated his principles.
Bode finished cataloguing and storing the latest magical artifact confiscated after being found in Muggle possession when he heard a shout. He looked up to see Rookwood scowling at him from the doorway.
“Look alive,” snapped the Assistant Chief of Operations, “We have a possible breach in the Atrium...”
“What?” gasped Bode, “But who would be mad enough to break into the Ministry...?”
“That’s what we’re going to find out!” growled Rookwood. “Now shut it and get a move on...”
“Wait...” Bode gulped in trepidation, “I’m just a Magical Artifact Storage tech--I’m not Security...”
“You are now...” Rookwood snarled, “Hurry up or I’ll kill you myself.”
~o0o~
Screams rent the air and the sound of shattering glass and small explosions filled Diagon Alley in the darkening evening as wizards and witches finished shopping for the day and store-keepers began closing procedures. Florean Fortescue shoved the last of his customers through the floo in his office and turned back to face the hooligans rampaging through his Ice Cream shop shooting curses from their wands.
Florean swore when he spotted that he had missed one of his customers lying sprawled on the floor. Dead or alive, he didn’t know. Angrily, Florean fired hexes and curses back at the Snatchers.
He dropped two of them with stunning spells, but when one fired a killing curse and missed, Florean retaliated with a concussive spell that slammed the Snatcher heavily into a brick wall with a sickening crack. The Snatcher screamed in pain and collapsed in a broken heap. Florean magically bound the other two prone Snatchers and stepped over them.
Florean breathed a sigh of relief; he could still feel his customer’s pulse. Steeling himself, Florean carefully peered out of his door to see if there was anyone else he could save. His face fell when he saw through the haze two people lying in the street who were clearly dead.
Further down Diagon Alley, Fenrir Greyback roared in fury. Ollivander’s shop was empty--there were no wands and no wand-dealer to be found. And if the shop had moved, there was no indication of its new location; Ollivander had left no clues.
It was never good to disappoint the Dark Lord--Ollivander must be found. Seething in rage, Greyback set the place ablaze with a Firestorm Spell and disapparated.
~o0o~
Bode’s face went white, but Rookwood was unmoved by the sight of Avery’s body dangling by the neck in the Atrium of the Ministry as the gore from Avery’s disemboweled midsection oozed and dripped to the floor. Avery had clearly been the victim of an entrail expelling curse.
It was too quiet.
Rookwood heard a sudden noise behind him and whirled around too late as an Incarcerus spell bound him from head to foot. Bode collapsed lifeless to the floor, dropped by an Avada Kedavra from Rodolphus Lestrange’s wand.
Bellatrix cackled as she cast a Petrificus Totalus on Rookwood and the ropes of the Incarcerus vanished.
“Those will just get in the way,” the witch said with a lustful gleam in her eyes. She reached into her cloak and pulled out her ceremonial dagger as she knelt beside Rookwood.
“No curses for you Augustus,” purred Bellatrix, drawing a line of red with her dagger across the exposed skin of Rookwood’s forearm, “No, that would be too quick and easy! I think I’ll draw this out slowly--the old-fashioned way...”
Bellatrix cackled and slit another thin red line on Rookwood’s forearm, forming an X through his Dark Mark.
If Rookwood could have screamed, he would have, as the knife came down again, this time aimed at his gut.
~o0o~
Hundreds of fans watching the football match at Sunderland Stadium--the Stadium of Light--began screaming when all the lights and video-cameras went out, and mobile-phone signals were lost. An explosion ripped through the field and a number of muggles fainted as giants tore through the walls and stands.
Snatchers began dropping panicked muggle spectators like flies with curses and stunners, and disapparating with several victims at a time or transporting them via Portkeys. Two dozen Dementors swarmed and began sucking out souls at random.
Lockhart was more careful in choosing his victims, using a discerning eye to locate young muggle girls for himself and Wormtail as he moved through the shrieking and gradually vanishing crowd.
When it was over, the bodies of hundreds lay strewn in the rubble and many were left behind alive, still screaming amid the smouldering ruins of the stadium. Maximum terror had been inflicted, and hundreds more muggles had been captured or killed and taken to be turned into the Dark Lord’s Army of the Dead.
~o0o~
By the time the Minister had flooed back to the Ministry from her home, reporters for the Daily Prophet, the Quibbler, and the International Wizard News Agency were already taking pictures from behind the taped perimeter around the dangling mutilated corpses of Avery and Rookwood; Bode's body lay on the ground nearby. The WNN was doing a live radio report. A glowing green cloud in the shape of a skull and serpent hovered just above the bodies.
There would be no mistaking the hand of Voldemort for the work of a petty thief by the Press this time. Rufus Scrimgeour and numerous Aurors were scouring the area for magical and not so magical evidence, and he gave the Minister the rest of the bad news when she arrived.
“I have fifty Aurors and a Magical Clean-Up squad already in Sunderland,” Scrimgeour scowled at the Minister. “We had to move quickly to obliviate the memories of Giant Involvement from the muggle survivors. And I have another dozen Aurors in Diagon Alley. Florean Fortescue rescued a number of people and captured several Snatchers...”
“This is all clearly part of a coordinated assault by Voldemort’s forces!” the Chief Auror concluded.
“Indeed!” the Minister responded darkly.
The wheels in Minister Dolores Umbridge’s mind began spinning, seeking ways to turn this disaster to her political advantage.
Bode and Avery were no huge loss, but losing Rookwood was a serious blow. However, Dolores nearly had the entire Ministry and the Wizengamot in the palm of her hand, and she still had a whole team of operatives ruthless enough to do deeds as dirty as Rookwood had ever done.
Minister Umbridge needed to locate some of Voldemort’s minions and haul them before the Wizengamot. If she had enough to punish, and played her cards right, this could be the breakthrough Dolores needed to gain a majority on the Wizengamot and begin pushing through her agenda.
“That is two attacks by Voldemort in Tyne and Wear now,” the Minister said sourly. “Voldemort might be located in that region...”
“Possibly, Madam Minister,” interjected Scrimgeour, “I have Aurors scouring the area already. However, that could be a ploy to throw us off his trail altogether, we must be careful not to presume anything at this time.”
“Very true Rufus,” Minister Umbridge nodded. “You seem to have everything well in hand, but please inform me once you have finished interrogating the Snatchers under Veritaserum, and then turn them over to the DoM for further questioning.
“Excuse me, Minister?”
“People only reveal what they believe to be the truth under Veritaserum, and memories can be tampered with--sometimes we must dig much deeper, Rufus. The DoM has the magical means to go deeper--but it is highly top secret of course...”
The Head Auror regarded the Minister shrewdly for a moment before responding with a nod, “Yes Madam, I understand!”
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