Chapter 11- A Watch; a Potion; an Hour
Feb. 4th, 2008 02:02 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
coyotegothTITLE: A Watch; a Potion; an Hour
CHARACTERS: Harry; Abador Brin; Scrimgeour; Cornelius Fudge; Snape; Bellatrix; Voldemort
RATING: PG
WARNINGS: none
FEEDBACK: welcomed
ARCHIVING: please ask
SUMMARY: In this chapter, Harry is infiltrating the Ministry, looking for clues about what happened to Bill Weasley; along the way, he has some unexpected encounters.
This is the latest chapter of my Harry Potter story; essentially, it's my alternate version of the timespan covered by Book 7, and as such, it contains Half-Blood Prince spoilers. (Please note that this series is not Deathly Hallows compliant in the least.)
Chapter 11- A Watch; a Potion; an Hour
Harry paused in the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic. He watched the delegates going to and fro, and felt his stomach roil, as he found himself thinking of the speech he had given- the speech in which he had unwittingly endorsed Scrimgeour's action against the werewolves. His fists clenched, as he thought, It begins here, and now. Whatever I have to do, I'm going to find a way to... to try to make things right. Nothing like this can ever happen again. There has to be a way- has to. He took a deep breath, and wiped his palms on his robes as he looked around. Dozens of witches and wizards of all races, wearing all manner of garb, walked past as he stood there; he could see some faces he recognized from the speech, either chatting with one another or giving instructions to aides, as they walked over to the row of fireplaces. For a moment, Harry was distracted by watching how people’s mouth movements were slightly out of synch with the words they spoke, as translator spells revoiced everything into English, and then the language of the listener. “This way, please, ladies and gentlemen,” Harry heard a Ministry worker call. “The security spells which allow us to keep the Floo Network open won’t last forever.”
Harry could hear delegates talking about the new Muggle Prime Minster Blair as he looked from face to face, wondering who might feel about the Ministry as he did. Who could he talk to, to see if they agreed that what the Ministry did was wrong? What was he supposed to do now? He... Harry suddenly caught a glimpse of Stebbins, the Ministry worker who had criticized the Ministry’s action against the werewolves to him; when Stebbins saw him looking, he went pale and gave a small shake of his head. Voices droned on in the background, as Stebbins made a small gesture toward something behind Harry’s back, then turned and quickly walked away. Harry’s lips pressed together, as he struggled to marshal his Occlumency skills. When he turned around, he saw a large portrait of Scrimgeour watching him intently. Brief images of giving the portrait a two-fingered salute, or perhaps hexing it afire, flickered through Harry’s thoughts, even as he forced emotion from his mind. The painting’s eyes narrowed; it stared at him intently before finally looking around the room.
Harry stifled a feeling of grim satisfaction, and headed back toward the elevators; in the background, he heard voices talking, a babble of translated conversation, as the unusual acoustics of the Atrium bounced sound around the room. “...doing with the Weasley boy,” he suddenly heard someone whisper, in untranslated English. “This is highly illegal... not to mention dangerous...” Harry stood still, and fought to keep his face blank; his pulse quickened, as he glanced around the room, trying to see who might be speaking. No one else seemed to be hearing the conversation, as a different voice replied, “...aware of that. You know... well as I do... vital research... not to mention... Scrimgeour hears you’ve refused...”
“...know that? The problem is... utterly new type of lycanthropy... don’t understand the results we’re getting...”
As Harry listened, he suddenly thought of his invisibility cloak. He looked around the room; no one seemed to be watching him. He sidled into an alcove, and pulled it on. He then edged back into the room, ducking out of the way of wizards rushing to and fro. Where were they? He craned his neck, and thought he could see... someone bumped into him; he backed away hastily, as the wizard recoiled in surprise, and then began waving his hand through the spot where Harry had been a second before. Turning his head constantly to keep a lookout, Harry headed carefully back to where he had seen them speaking. He caught a glimpse of two wizards, neither wearing Ministry robes, speaking: one had his back turned, the other seemed somehow familiar...
“Ladies and gentlemen,” came Scrimgeour’s amplified voice, “we have reason to believe that there may be an unauthorized Invisibility cloak in use on the premises. Accordingly, this room is being sealed; security measures will be implemented.”
Harry cursed silently as he saw the somehow familiar-looking wizard turn, and quickly head back toward the elevator bank. He saw the wizard he'd bumped into speaking agitatedly to a Ministry security wizard; then, from the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of Abador Brin talking to other Ministry personnel. He waited until the others had moved away, and then came up behind Brin. A moment before he spoke, Abador frowned, and started to turn. “Don’t turn around,” Harry whispered. “It’s Harry; I’m right behind you.”
Brin hesitated, and then gave a tiny nod, and a jerk of his head; he started across the room, as Harry followed. Someone took Brin’s arm to speak to him, but Brin pointed in another direction across the room. “I thought I noticed something over there,” he said. “You’d better check it out.” The other man nodded and moved away, as Brin stepped into a relatively isolated corner. Legilimency, Harry saw him mouth. Harry concentrated; he looked into Brin's eyes, sending images of the half-overheard conversation to him; after a moment, Brin hesitated, and then took out a scroll and quill.
Do you know who it was? Brin wrote. Harry hesitated, and then tapped the back of Brin’s hand twice.
One for yes, two for no? Brin wrote; one tap.
Was he wearing a Ministry uniform, with a badge?; two taps.
Brin hesitated. That's still obviously a Ministry worker; there's no way he could've gotten in here otherwise, with security so tight. And he was talking about Bill? You’re sure? One tap.
That sounds like something to do with the Department of Mysteries. Brin wrote. If so, then we may be able “Brin, what in Merlin’s name are you doing?” Scrimgeour snapped; he had come up behind them, and now stood perilously close to Harry. “We have a security breach, and you’re standing here scribbling!”
“Itemizing possible responses, Minister,” Brin said, rolling up the scroll as Harry began to carefully edge away.
“Oh? Let me see...” Scrimgeour made a sudden motion with his hand, missing Harry by less than an inch. Scrimgeour frowned, and stared in Harry’s direction for a long moment. Finally, he turned back to Brin, who had tucked the parchment away. “Have you detected anything?” Scrimgeour finally asked.
“No, Minister,” Brin said. Scrimgeour’s gaze locked with Brin’s; finally, he turned, and walked away. There was a pause; then Scrimgeour’s amplified voice came again: “Ladies and gentlemen, we apologize for the delay; it seems to have been a false alarm,” Scrimgeour said. “We’ll be doing one last security sweep, and then escorting everyone to their respective destinations.”
Harry paused, uncertain; Brin bent over as if tying his shoes. “Ten minutes from now,” Harry heard him mutter. “The closet by the nearest washroom.”
*
Harry paced back and forth in the closet, listening to the last of the delegates’ voices fade away as the Atrium emptied. Finally, the door opened, and Brin stepped in. “Harry?”
“Right here,” Harry said, taking off the cloak. Brin pointed his wand at the door, and then murmured a spell. “Right- we don’t have much time," Brin said. "I’ve put it about that a delegate accidentally cast a Disillusionment Charm, which should cover for you. Now, you remember what I said about the Department of Mysteries?”
“Yeah...?"
“I’d assume that’s who they were- they don’t bother with badges and such there.” Brin frowned for a moment. “I can give you the password for the doors down there, but you’ll have to be careful- the security is extremely tight. You can’t go down there as yourself.”
“What should I do, then?”
Brin reached into a pocket of his robes, and pulled out a flask.
“Polyjuice potion...?” Harry asked.
Brin nodded. “I’ve told people that I’m going to be checking on security matters on the lower levels; it won’t be suspicious if I'm seen down there. What does Scrimgeour have you doing this afternoon?”
“More interviews with foreign delegates, I think- something about the Muggle government in Hong Kong switching over, and how that will affect the Hong Kong Wizarding government's supporting the Ministry. That's not until three o' clock, though.”
“Mmm- well, mind the Polyjuice potion doesn't wear off before you get back; I have something that may help you there.” Brin pulled out a watch. “This is enchanted to count down from one hour to zero. When the time runs out, you’d better be back here.”
“Yeah,” Harry said. “Are you sure you want to risk this?”
“I’m ready if you are, Harry," Abador said. "I want to find out who’s been talking about Bill Weasley just as much as you do.” Harry nodded and took the flask, as Abador pulled a few hairs from his head. He dropped them into the potion, which turned a dark green; then, Harry gulped it down. The watch made a chiming sound; its hands began turning. Harry's glasses fell off his face, as his form shifted; with Brin's eyes, he could see clearly as Brin reached out and caught them.
"I'll hold onto these; you won't need them in my form," Brin said. "Oh- and take this." He handed Harry an Auror's badge. Harry took it, nodded, and headed for the door.
“Good luck, Harry,” Abador said. “Remember- you have to be back here in an hour. Oh- and the password to the doors down there is 'Kryptos'.”
Harry nodded, and took a deep breath, before walking to the door. I’m Abador Brin- a Ministry Auror he reminded himself, as he walked back into the room. The atrium was nearly empty now, and the wizard he’d been looking for was gone; Harry paused for a moment, and then walked toward the gateway before the elevators to the lower floors. Deep in thought, he collided with someone.
“Sorry,” he said, recovering. “I must’ve... you!”
The other man recoiled at his tone; it was Cornelius Fudge. “I need to speak to you!” Fudge hissed at him, taking him by the arm and pulling him into an alcove. “Now- it’s urgent!”
“Oh, you do, do you?” Harry snapped, shaking his arm free; all he could think was of how this man had ruined Sirius’s life. “Need my help with sending more people to Azkaban for life without a trial, or some such?”
Fudge stared at him in shock. “What are you talking about?” he asked.
“What an I talking about?” Harry snapped; he had completely forgotten that he was supposed to be Abador Brin. “I’ll tell you what I’m...”
“I need to talk to you,” Fudge whispered urgently. “It’s about The Society of the Sun, and the Weasley boy- I think there’s a connection!”
“The Weasley boy?” Harry asked, confused. “You mean Bill...?”
Fudge took a step backward, and stared at him intently. “You’re not yourself, Brin- what is this?”
Act like Abador Harry thought desperately. “And how am I supposed to act, with the Wizarding UK falling to pieces?” he said. “Voldemort; Dumbledore; Harry Potter...”
Fudge nodded doubtfully, and then glanced around. “You need to contact the Order of the Phoenix- I know you’re associated with them,” Fudge whispered. “We’re all in terrible danger; it seems that...”
Suddenly, Scrimgeour’s voice came from right behind them. “You know, Cornelius- when I bring my predecessor here to serve as a functionary, I expect him to be attending to his duties, not preventing my Aurors from fulfilling theirs. I’ve had two Aurors wasting the last twenty minutes looking for you; have you forgotten our last conversation on the subject...?”
“No,” Fudge said, clearly terrified; Harry backed further into the shadows, and furtively pulled his cloak out of his pocket. “No, I thought- there was supposed to be someone invisible on the premises- I thought I saw...”
“I’m quite sure that my Aurors can attend to the matter without your assistance,” Scrimgeour said, staring at Fudge intently. Then, Fudge whirled, and met Harry’s gaze; for an instant, Harry had a mental image of a huge sun symbol, surrounded by cloaked figures- and beneath it, some sort of gateway, with odd, swirling symbols...
Suddenly, two Aurors came, and stood behind Fudge; the connection was broken as he reluctantly turned, and they led him away. Harry quickly pulled the cloak on; Scrimgeour looked into the alcove where Harry stood, and then strode off down the corridor.
Once he had turned the corner, Harry snuck a glance at the watch: almost fifteen minutes gone. There was nothing for it; if he was going to check the Department of Mysteries, it would have to be now. He put the cloak away, then walked to up the wizard guarding the gateway to the elevators. Taking a deep breath, he flashed his Auror’s badge, and strode forward; the wizard nodded and stood aside, letting him pass. The elevator opened, without its former clattering noise; now, there was merely a smooth hiss of the doors and an ominous hum as Harry pressed the number nine button.
“Department of Mysteries,” the voice said as the doors slid open; Harry took a deep breath, and stepped out into the corridor. The torches’ flames flickered as the lift’s door closed; otherwise, there was silence. Harry turned, and stared at the plain black door he remembered; he shivered, thinking of his dreams of two years ago, dreams that had led to- Harry shook his head, and made himself stride forward... and caught himself, remembering what Brin had said about a password. “Kryptos,” he said.
The door swung open silently; he walked forward into the circular room. It looked exactly as it had the last time- identical unmarked handleless black doors, lit by candles whose flames burned blue. Nerving himself, he picked a door, and walked forward. “Kryptos.”
Nothing happened. Harry hesitated; this must be the room Dumbledore had mentioned- the room with the greatest mystery of all. Wouldn’t Bill Weasley be kept there? Perhaps if he... Suddenly, the room began to rotate; Harry tried to keep track of which door had refused to open, but it was impossible. Finally, they came to a stop. Harry looked at the door before him, before finally saying, “Kryptos.”
The door swung open. “What was that?” He heard a voice call. “Why is the door open?” Harry hastily pulled his invisibility cloak on, and stepped inside. A Department of Mysteries wizard came to the door, and looked out into the hallway, before pulling it shut behind them. “It’s nothing,” he said. “There’s no one there, and the alarm spell didn’t go off.”
“Still, be careful- you know how Scrimgeour’ll be if he thinks there’s been a security breach.”
“Course I do- how do you think I got into the Department? Whichever poor bastard came before me...”
“Yeah.” There was a pause; Harry bit his lip, wishing they would say something useful. How many minutes had gone by?
“Any word?” one finally asked.
“Yeah- it seems to be working, but they want to run more tests to make sure,” the other replied. “I’m actually supposed to run the next series.”
”I don’t envy you that,” the first wizard said quietly. “It’s one thing to do this sort of thing with Death Eaters, but our own people...”
“Keep your voice down,” the other man whispered. “If Scrimgeour thinks you’re not behind this all the way... well, I don’t want to have to train another new assistant. Besides,” he continued in a rather louder tone of voice, “it’s helping win the war against Voldemort- that’s worth any sacrifice. I’m sure he’d agree, if he were able.”
“You’re right, of course,” the first wizard said loudly. There was a chiming sound. “It’s time,” the assistant said.
The first wizard sighed, and got to his feet. Harry paused; as the wizard opened the door to leave, Harry walked out with him. The door closed; the room rotated; the wizard walked to one of the doors, and traced a complicated swirling design on its face with his wand. The door melted away; the wizard stepped through. Harry started to follow- but found himself coming to a stop; he couldn’t advance any further. He tried to push himself forward, but his feet skidded uselessly on the floor; the door reformed, the room rotated, and everything was the same as before. Harry swore viciously, then finally walked to the nearest door. “Kryptos.”
The door swung open; Harry listened for voices, then walked forward... and came to a halt in shock. The raised dais; the stone archway; the fluttering black veil. Come on, you can do better than that he seemed to hear a voice cry. As Harry stared, he found himself feeling an urge to simply walk through the veil, and have done with it. The invisibility cloak had fallen from his shoulders; without thinking about it, he stuffed it in his pocket. He shook his head, and realized that he was standing halfway up the stairs now; the tattered black curtain was brushing at his hand. He stretched out to touch it. Why not? Virtually everyone he knew was dead, anyway: his parents; Sirius; Dumbledore...
Suddenly, he heard voices- not the veil’s whisperings, but human voices. He shook his head again, and forced himself to walk back to the doorway, and through. The hallway rotated, and stopped; Harry turned... and found himself face-to-face with the Department of Mysteries worker he had glimpsed earlier. The man stared at him in shock. “Brin, what in Merlin’s name are you doing down here?”
At the last second, Harry remembered Arthur’s pointing the man out to him at the Quidditch World Cup; Croaker, he remembered. “What do you think, Croaker?” he snapped. “There’s been a major security breach- or perhaps you hadn’t heard?”
“No, I-" The other man paused. “This is highly irregular- I’d better contact Minister Scrimgeour.”
“And let him know how shoddy your security procedures are?” Harry said quickly. “Personally, I don’t think that that’s something you’d care to advertise, but...”
“What? No, that’s not...” Croaker shook his head, looking doubtful.
“After all,” Harry added, mentally crossing his fingers, “with what’s going on with the Weasley boy down here- and apparently, Fudge has already made the connection to the Society of the Sun...”
“He has?” Croaker whispered, going pale. “No... we didn’t say anyth...”
“I’d be more careful if I were you,” Harry said. “After all, look what happened to Bode...”
“What? No, Bode was in the hospital- an accident...”
“Oh, yes,” Harry said, pressing his advantage. “Someone just accidentally brought Devil’s Snare into his hospital room, did they...?”
Croaker stared at him. “Are you saying that...?” He swallowed, and took a deep breath. “I- I’d better check on security myself. Just to be safe, I mean.”
“Yes, I’d say you’d better,” Harry said; he was almost enjoying this. “You never know who could be skulking around.”
Croaker nodded, and turned; Harry waited to see if he went in the door Harry had explored earlier- then, he glanced at the watch; five minutes left. Were the watch hands turning faster? He wiped his brow with a sleeve, as he hammered at the button for the lift.
*
Harry was afraid to look at the watch again; he fancied he could already feel his face shifting, as he strode rapidly through the Atrium. He- someone grabbed his arm; he nearly shrieked. “What is it?” he asked, startled.
“Brin, are you all right?” the other man asked- it was Dawlish, the Auror who had previously been trailing Dumbledore. “I was calling your name- why didn’t you answer?”
“Oh? Oh, I, uhh...” Harry flailed for an excuse, flustered by the other man’s staring at him. How much time was left?
“Are you all right?” Dawlish repeated. “You’re acting awfully strangely- have you been jinxed?”
“No!” Harry said anxiously. “No- I’m fine!”
“I don’t know about that,” Dawlish said, looking at him intently. “You’re acting rather strangely- I’d better have a medwizard examine you.”
“Wait!” Harry said, grabbing Dawlish’s arm, as inspiration struck. “I- if you must know, Dawlish, I was using a Detection Charm Moody taught me once. It’s very difficult- I was concentrating on it, when you came up and grabbed me. It’s ruined now, of course.”
“Detection Charm...?” Dawlish asked, puzzled.
“Yes- you may have heard that there was alleged to be an invisibility cloak in use on the premises earlier? You never know- it would be just like the Death Eaters to have two invisible people in here, so that when the first one is detected, the second one...”
“Two invisible Death Eaters?” Dawlish scoffed. “You’ve spent too long working with Mad-Eye!”
“Well, I suppose it’s better than letting Dumbledore get the drop on you twice, isn’t it?” Harry replied, firing up. “You and Fudge and Umbridge and Shacklebolt, for Merlin’s sake, and he takes you all out- and then the next year, he does it to you again. Sounds as though ‘constant vigilance’ wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world for you, if you ask me.”
“I didn’t,” Dawlish muttered, flushing. “Anyway- keep an eye out.”
“You too,” Harry said. “Constant vigilance.”
Dawlish muttered something, and stalked off. Harry struggled to keep a grin off his face as he turned, and then fought not to break into a run as he headed for the broom closet. As he waited for Abador Brin, he wiped at his sweaty forehead, and took deep breaths to calm himself. Where is he? he thought, as he felt his face shift back to normal, and the world went out of focus. He squinted at the watch, but its hands were stuck at zero. Finally, the door clicked open; he lowered his wand as Brin stepped inside.
“Sorry about that,” Brin said, handing Harry back his glasses. “Did you learn anything useful?” Harry summarized the last hour for him; Brin nodded thoughtfully. “Society of the Sun? I never expected Cornelius to put that much together.”
“Is... is he going to be all right?” Harry asked. “I mean- I don’t really care, but... well, they won’t do anything to a Minister, will they?”
“I hope not,” Brin said. “For now, though, it’s you I’m worried about.”
“I think I’m all right,” Harry said. “I’m supposed to be having some sort of tour this afternoon, and that meeting- a chance for Scrimgeour to hold Stan Shunpike over me, I guess. After what I’ve just been through, it’ll almost be a relief.”
“Just be careful,” Brin said. “You never know who could be taking an interest in you next.”
*
Snape blinked, as he stared at the floor, an inch below his nose. He had been kneeling like this for almost ten minutes now; in the small corner of his mind that he kept secret from the Dark Lord, he wished that Voldemort would kill him, or end this game.
“You see, Bellatrix?” he finally heard Voldemort say. “For all your talk of disharmony, Severus is my most faithful of servants, just as you are. Aren’t you, Severus?”
“My life is yours to shape, or to end,” Snape replied, the ritual answer.
“So beautifully spoken,” Voldemort said, a trace of amusement in his voice. “You may rise.”
Snape stood slowly, keeping his gaze on Voldemort’s. Behind Voldemort, Death Eaters encircled the room; to Voldemort's left, Bellatrix stood, glaring at Snape. “If he is such-“ she began, before catching herself, and bowing her head to Voldemort. As his nod, she said, “If Snape is such a faithful servant, my liege, then he should tell us what has happened to Narcissa and her brat! They were supposed to accompany him- why are they not here?”
Voldemort nodded, and then returned his gaze to Severus. “Well, Severus?”
“I have not spoken to her since the previous night, my Lord,” Snape relied. “I do not know her current whereabouts.”
Voldemort nodded. “Yes- alas, dear Narcissa’s courage was never the equal of her concern for her whelp- that’s the main reason she was never granted the chance to wear my Mark. A shame, isn’t it, Bellatrix? It must frustrate you, this blot on the family honor...”
Bellatrix’s teeth clenched; she kept her voice even with great effort. “My liege- perhaps if you were to dispatch Snape to...”
High, cold laughter from the other. “That would be amusing, would it not? Well played- however, I have other plans for dear Severus. Plans that I know will please him greatly. Are you curious, Severus?”
Black eyes glittered. “I live to serve you, Lord; please tell me how.”
Voldemort rose from his throne; he walked down the steps until he stood next to Snape. Red eyes met black ones; finally, Voldemort smiled. “Six years,” he whispered. “For six years, Dumbledore made you watch over James Potter’s whelp- rubbed him in your face. Even helped that accursed Sirus Black escape- that cost you the Order of Merlin, did it not? Not to mention the unimaginable frustration of seeing one of your greatest enemies, taken from your grasp?”
“It did,” Snape said tightly.
“Well, then, Severus: I am nothing if not generous to my followers, and you are my most faithful follower of all. Accordingly, I grant you this highest honor: a chance to avenge yourself on the spawn of James Potter. You will bring Harry Potter here, to me... and then kill him.”
CHARACTERS: Harry; Abador Brin; Scrimgeour; Cornelius Fudge; Snape; Bellatrix; Voldemort
RATING: PG
WARNINGS: none
FEEDBACK: welcomed
ARCHIVING: please ask
SUMMARY: In this chapter, Harry is infiltrating the Ministry, looking for clues about what happened to Bill Weasley; along the way, he has some unexpected encounters.
This is the latest chapter of my Harry Potter story; essentially, it's my alternate version of the timespan covered by Book 7, and as such, it contains Half-Blood Prince spoilers. (Please note that this series is not Deathly Hallows compliant in the least.)
Chapter 11- A Watch; a Potion; an Hour
Harry paused in the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic. He watched the delegates going to and fro, and felt his stomach roil, as he found himself thinking of the speech he had given- the speech in which he had unwittingly endorsed Scrimgeour's action against the werewolves. His fists clenched, as he thought, It begins here, and now. Whatever I have to do, I'm going to find a way to... to try to make things right. Nothing like this can ever happen again. There has to be a way- has to. He took a deep breath, and wiped his palms on his robes as he looked around. Dozens of witches and wizards of all races, wearing all manner of garb, walked past as he stood there; he could see some faces he recognized from the speech, either chatting with one another or giving instructions to aides, as they walked over to the row of fireplaces. For a moment, Harry was distracted by watching how people’s mouth movements were slightly out of synch with the words they spoke, as translator spells revoiced everything into English, and then the language of the listener. “This way, please, ladies and gentlemen,” Harry heard a Ministry worker call. “The security spells which allow us to keep the Floo Network open won’t last forever.”
Harry could hear delegates talking about the new Muggle Prime Minster Blair as he looked from face to face, wondering who might feel about the Ministry as he did. Who could he talk to, to see if they agreed that what the Ministry did was wrong? What was he supposed to do now? He... Harry suddenly caught a glimpse of Stebbins, the Ministry worker who had criticized the Ministry’s action against the werewolves to him; when Stebbins saw him looking, he went pale and gave a small shake of his head. Voices droned on in the background, as Stebbins made a small gesture toward something behind Harry’s back, then turned and quickly walked away. Harry’s lips pressed together, as he struggled to marshal his Occlumency skills. When he turned around, he saw a large portrait of Scrimgeour watching him intently. Brief images of giving the portrait a two-fingered salute, or perhaps hexing it afire, flickered through Harry’s thoughts, even as he forced emotion from his mind. The painting’s eyes narrowed; it stared at him intently before finally looking around the room.
Harry stifled a feeling of grim satisfaction, and headed back toward the elevators; in the background, he heard voices talking, a babble of translated conversation, as the unusual acoustics of the Atrium bounced sound around the room. “...doing with the Weasley boy,” he suddenly heard someone whisper, in untranslated English. “This is highly illegal... not to mention dangerous...” Harry stood still, and fought to keep his face blank; his pulse quickened, as he glanced around the room, trying to see who might be speaking. No one else seemed to be hearing the conversation, as a different voice replied, “...aware of that. You know... well as I do... vital research... not to mention... Scrimgeour hears you’ve refused...”
“...know that? The problem is... utterly new type of lycanthropy... don’t understand the results we’re getting...”
As Harry listened, he suddenly thought of his invisibility cloak. He looked around the room; no one seemed to be watching him. He sidled into an alcove, and pulled it on. He then edged back into the room, ducking out of the way of wizards rushing to and fro. Where were they? He craned his neck, and thought he could see... someone bumped into him; he backed away hastily, as the wizard recoiled in surprise, and then began waving his hand through the spot where Harry had been a second before. Turning his head constantly to keep a lookout, Harry headed carefully back to where he had seen them speaking. He caught a glimpse of two wizards, neither wearing Ministry robes, speaking: one had his back turned, the other seemed somehow familiar...
“Ladies and gentlemen,” came Scrimgeour’s amplified voice, “we have reason to believe that there may be an unauthorized Invisibility cloak in use on the premises. Accordingly, this room is being sealed; security measures will be implemented.”
Harry cursed silently as he saw the somehow familiar-looking wizard turn, and quickly head back toward the elevator bank. He saw the wizard he'd bumped into speaking agitatedly to a Ministry security wizard; then, from the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of Abador Brin talking to other Ministry personnel. He waited until the others had moved away, and then came up behind Brin. A moment before he spoke, Abador frowned, and started to turn. “Don’t turn around,” Harry whispered. “It’s Harry; I’m right behind you.”
Brin hesitated, and then gave a tiny nod, and a jerk of his head; he started across the room, as Harry followed. Someone took Brin’s arm to speak to him, but Brin pointed in another direction across the room. “I thought I noticed something over there,” he said. “You’d better check it out.” The other man nodded and moved away, as Brin stepped into a relatively isolated corner. Legilimency, Harry saw him mouth. Harry concentrated; he looked into Brin's eyes, sending images of the half-overheard conversation to him; after a moment, Brin hesitated, and then took out a scroll and quill.
Do you know who it was? Brin wrote. Harry hesitated, and then tapped the back of Brin’s hand twice.
One for yes, two for no? Brin wrote; one tap.
Was he wearing a Ministry uniform, with a badge?; two taps.
Brin hesitated. That's still obviously a Ministry worker; there's no way he could've gotten in here otherwise, with security so tight. And he was talking about Bill? You’re sure? One tap.
That sounds like something to do with the Department of Mysteries. Brin wrote. If so, then we may be able “Brin, what in Merlin’s name are you doing?” Scrimgeour snapped; he had come up behind them, and now stood perilously close to Harry. “We have a security breach, and you’re standing here scribbling!”
“Itemizing possible responses, Minister,” Brin said, rolling up the scroll as Harry began to carefully edge away.
“Oh? Let me see...” Scrimgeour made a sudden motion with his hand, missing Harry by less than an inch. Scrimgeour frowned, and stared in Harry’s direction for a long moment. Finally, he turned back to Brin, who had tucked the parchment away. “Have you detected anything?” Scrimgeour finally asked.
“No, Minister,” Brin said. Scrimgeour’s gaze locked with Brin’s; finally, he turned, and walked away. There was a pause; then Scrimgeour’s amplified voice came again: “Ladies and gentlemen, we apologize for the delay; it seems to have been a false alarm,” Scrimgeour said. “We’ll be doing one last security sweep, and then escorting everyone to their respective destinations.”
Harry paused, uncertain; Brin bent over as if tying his shoes. “Ten minutes from now,” Harry heard him mutter. “The closet by the nearest washroom.”
Harry paced back and forth in the closet, listening to the last of the delegates’ voices fade away as the Atrium emptied. Finally, the door opened, and Brin stepped in. “Harry?”
“Right here,” Harry said, taking off the cloak. Brin pointed his wand at the door, and then murmured a spell. “Right- we don’t have much time," Brin said. "I’ve put it about that a delegate accidentally cast a Disillusionment Charm, which should cover for you. Now, you remember what I said about the Department of Mysteries?”
“Yeah...?"
“I’d assume that’s who they were- they don’t bother with badges and such there.” Brin frowned for a moment. “I can give you the password for the doors down there, but you’ll have to be careful- the security is extremely tight. You can’t go down there as yourself.”
“What should I do, then?”
Brin reached into a pocket of his robes, and pulled out a flask.
“Polyjuice potion...?” Harry asked.
Brin nodded. “I’ve told people that I’m going to be checking on security matters on the lower levels; it won’t be suspicious if I'm seen down there. What does Scrimgeour have you doing this afternoon?”
“More interviews with foreign delegates, I think- something about the Muggle government in Hong Kong switching over, and how that will affect the Hong Kong Wizarding government's supporting the Ministry. That's not until three o' clock, though.”
“Mmm- well, mind the Polyjuice potion doesn't wear off before you get back; I have something that may help you there.” Brin pulled out a watch. “This is enchanted to count down from one hour to zero. When the time runs out, you’d better be back here.”
“Yeah,” Harry said. “Are you sure you want to risk this?”
“I’m ready if you are, Harry," Abador said. "I want to find out who’s been talking about Bill Weasley just as much as you do.” Harry nodded and took the flask, as Abador pulled a few hairs from his head. He dropped them into the potion, which turned a dark green; then, Harry gulped it down. The watch made a chiming sound; its hands began turning. Harry's glasses fell off his face, as his form shifted; with Brin's eyes, he could see clearly as Brin reached out and caught them.
"I'll hold onto these; you won't need them in my form," Brin said. "Oh- and take this." He handed Harry an Auror's badge. Harry took it, nodded, and headed for the door.
“Good luck, Harry,” Abador said. “Remember- you have to be back here in an hour. Oh- and the password to the doors down there is 'Kryptos'.”
Harry nodded, and took a deep breath, before walking to the door. I’m Abador Brin- a Ministry Auror he reminded himself, as he walked back into the room. The atrium was nearly empty now, and the wizard he’d been looking for was gone; Harry paused for a moment, and then walked toward the gateway before the elevators to the lower floors. Deep in thought, he collided with someone.
“Sorry,” he said, recovering. “I must’ve... you!”
The other man recoiled at his tone; it was Cornelius Fudge. “I need to speak to you!” Fudge hissed at him, taking him by the arm and pulling him into an alcove. “Now- it’s urgent!”
“Oh, you do, do you?” Harry snapped, shaking his arm free; all he could think was of how this man had ruined Sirius’s life. “Need my help with sending more people to Azkaban for life without a trial, or some such?”
Fudge stared at him in shock. “What are you talking about?” he asked.
“What an I talking about?” Harry snapped; he had completely forgotten that he was supposed to be Abador Brin. “I’ll tell you what I’m...”
“I need to talk to you,” Fudge whispered urgently. “It’s about The Society of the Sun, and the Weasley boy- I think there’s a connection!”
“The Weasley boy?” Harry asked, confused. “You mean Bill...?”
Fudge took a step backward, and stared at him intently. “You’re not yourself, Brin- what is this?”
Act like Abador Harry thought desperately. “And how am I supposed to act, with the Wizarding UK falling to pieces?” he said. “Voldemort; Dumbledore; Harry Potter...”
Fudge nodded doubtfully, and then glanced around. “You need to contact the Order of the Phoenix- I know you’re associated with them,” Fudge whispered. “We’re all in terrible danger; it seems that...”
Suddenly, Scrimgeour’s voice came from right behind them. “You know, Cornelius- when I bring my predecessor here to serve as a functionary, I expect him to be attending to his duties, not preventing my Aurors from fulfilling theirs. I’ve had two Aurors wasting the last twenty minutes looking for you; have you forgotten our last conversation on the subject...?”
“No,” Fudge said, clearly terrified; Harry backed further into the shadows, and furtively pulled his cloak out of his pocket. “No, I thought- there was supposed to be someone invisible on the premises- I thought I saw...”
“I’m quite sure that my Aurors can attend to the matter without your assistance,” Scrimgeour said, staring at Fudge intently. Then, Fudge whirled, and met Harry’s gaze; for an instant, Harry had a mental image of a huge sun symbol, surrounded by cloaked figures- and beneath it, some sort of gateway, with odd, swirling symbols...
Suddenly, two Aurors came, and stood behind Fudge; the connection was broken as he reluctantly turned, and they led him away. Harry quickly pulled the cloak on; Scrimgeour looked into the alcove where Harry stood, and then strode off down the corridor.
Once he had turned the corner, Harry snuck a glance at the watch: almost fifteen minutes gone. There was nothing for it; if he was going to check the Department of Mysteries, it would have to be now. He put the cloak away, then walked to up the wizard guarding the gateway to the elevators. Taking a deep breath, he flashed his Auror’s badge, and strode forward; the wizard nodded and stood aside, letting him pass. The elevator opened, without its former clattering noise; now, there was merely a smooth hiss of the doors and an ominous hum as Harry pressed the number nine button.
“Department of Mysteries,” the voice said as the doors slid open; Harry took a deep breath, and stepped out into the corridor. The torches’ flames flickered as the lift’s door closed; otherwise, there was silence. Harry turned, and stared at the plain black door he remembered; he shivered, thinking of his dreams of two years ago, dreams that had led to- Harry shook his head, and made himself stride forward... and caught himself, remembering what Brin had said about a password. “Kryptos,” he said.
The door swung open silently; he walked forward into the circular room. It looked exactly as it had the last time- identical unmarked handleless black doors, lit by candles whose flames burned blue. Nerving himself, he picked a door, and walked forward. “Kryptos.”
Nothing happened. Harry hesitated; this must be the room Dumbledore had mentioned- the room with the greatest mystery of all. Wouldn’t Bill Weasley be kept there? Perhaps if he... Suddenly, the room began to rotate; Harry tried to keep track of which door had refused to open, but it was impossible. Finally, they came to a stop. Harry looked at the door before him, before finally saying, “Kryptos.”
The door swung open. “What was that?” He heard a voice call. “Why is the door open?” Harry hastily pulled his invisibility cloak on, and stepped inside. A Department of Mysteries wizard came to the door, and looked out into the hallway, before pulling it shut behind them. “It’s nothing,” he said. “There’s no one there, and the alarm spell didn’t go off.”
“Still, be careful- you know how Scrimgeour’ll be if he thinks there’s been a security breach.”
“Course I do- how do you think I got into the Department? Whichever poor bastard came before me...”
“Yeah.” There was a pause; Harry bit his lip, wishing they would say something useful. How many minutes had gone by?
“Any word?” one finally asked.
“Yeah- it seems to be working, but they want to run more tests to make sure,” the other replied. “I’m actually supposed to run the next series.”
”I don’t envy you that,” the first wizard said quietly. “It’s one thing to do this sort of thing with Death Eaters, but our own people...”
“Keep your voice down,” the other man whispered. “If Scrimgeour thinks you’re not behind this all the way... well, I don’t want to have to train another new assistant. Besides,” he continued in a rather louder tone of voice, “it’s helping win the war against Voldemort- that’s worth any sacrifice. I’m sure he’d agree, if he were able.”
“You’re right, of course,” the first wizard said loudly. There was a chiming sound. “It’s time,” the assistant said.
The first wizard sighed, and got to his feet. Harry paused; as the wizard opened the door to leave, Harry walked out with him. The door closed; the room rotated; the wizard walked to one of the doors, and traced a complicated swirling design on its face with his wand. The door melted away; the wizard stepped through. Harry started to follow- but found himself coming to a stop; he couldn’t advance any further. He tried to push himself forward, but his feet skidded uselessly on the floor; the door reformed, the room rotated, and everything was the same as before. Harry swore viciously, then finally walked to the nearest door. “Kryptos.”
The door swung open; Harry listened for voices, then walked forward... and came to a halt in shock. The raised dais; the stone archway; the fluttering black veil. Come on, you can do better than that he seemed to hear a voice cry. As Harry stared, he found himself feeling an urge to simply walk through the veil, and have done with it. The invisibility cloak had fallen from his shoulders; without thinking about it, he stuffed it in his pocket. He shook his head, and realized that he was standing halfway up the stairs now; the tattered black curtain was brushing at his hand. He stretched out to touch it. Why not? Virtually everyone he knew was dead, anyway: his parents; Sirius; Dumbledore...
Suddenly, he heard voices- not the veil’s whisperings, but human voices. He shook his head again, and forced himself to walk back to the doorway, and through. The hallway rotated, and stopped; Harry turned... and found himself face-to-face with the Department of Mysteries worker he had glimpsed earlier. The man stared at him in shock. “Brin, what in Merlin’s name are you doing down here?”
At the last second, Harry remembered Arthur’s pointing the man out to him at the Quidditch World Cup; Croaker, he remembered. “What do you think, Croaker?” he snapped. “There’s been a major security breach- or perhaps you hadn’t heard?”
“No, I-" The other man paused. “This is highly irregular- I’d better contact Minister Scrimgeour.”
“And let him know how shoddy your security procedures are?” Harry said quickly. “Personally, I don’t think that that’s something you’d care to advertise, but...”
“What? No, that’s not...” Croaker shook his head, looking doubtful.
“After all,” Harry added, mentally crossing his fingers, “with what’s going on with the Weasley boy down here- and apparently, Fudge has already made the connection to the Society of the Sun...”
“He has?” Croaker whispered, going pale. “No... we didn’t say anyth...”
“I’d be more careful if I were you,” Harry said. “After all, look what happened to Bode...”
“What? No, Bode was in the hospital- an accident...”
“Oh, yes,” Harry said, pressing his advantage. “Someone just accidentally brought Devil’s Snare into his hospital room, did they...?”
Croaker stared at him. “Are you saying that...?” He swallowed, and took a deep breath. “I- I’d better check on security myself. Just to be safe, I mean.”
“Yes, I’d say you’d better,” Harry said; he was almost enjoying this. “You never know who could be skulking around.”
Croaker nodded, and turned; Harry waited to see if he went in the door Harry had explored earlier- then, he glanced at the watch; five minutes left. Were the watch hands turning faster? He wiped his brow with a sleeve, as he hammered at the button for the lift.
Harry was afraid to look at the watch again; he fancied he could already feel his face shifting, as he strode rapidly through the Atrium. He- someone grabbed his arm; he nearly shrieked. “What is it?” he asked, startled.
“Brin, are you all right?” the other man asked- it was Dawlish, the Auror who had previously been trailing Dumbledore. “I was calling your name- why didn’t you answer?”
“Oh? Oh, I, uhh...” Harry flailed for an excuse, flustered by the other man’s staring at him. How much time was left?
“Are you all right?” Dawlish repeated. “You’re acting awfully strangely- have you been jinxed?”
“No!” Harry said anxiously. “No- I’m fine!”
“I don’t know about that,” Dawlish said, looking at him intently. “You’re acting rather strangely- I’d better have a medwizard examine you.”
“Wait!” Harry said, grabbing Dawlish’s arm, as inspiration struck. “I- if you must know, Dawlish, I was using a Detection Charm Moody taught me once. It’s very difficult- I was concentrating on it, when you came up and grabbed me. It’s ruined now, of course.”
“Detection Charm...?” Dawlish asked, puzzled.
“Yes- you may have heard that there was alleged to be an invisibility cloak in use on the premises earlier? You never know- it would be just like the Death Eaters to have two invisible people in here, so that when the first one is detected, the second one...”
“Two invisible Death Eaters?” Dawlish scoffed. “You’ve spent too long working with Mad-Eye!”
“Well, I suppose it’s better than letting Dumbledore get the drop on you twice, isn’t it?” Harry replied, firing up. “You and Fudge and Umbridge and Shacklebolt, for Merlin’s sake, and he takes you all out- and then the next year, he does it to you again. Sounds as though ‘constant vigilance’ wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world for you, if you ask me.”
“I didn’t,” Dawlish muttered, flushing. “Anyway- keep an eye out.”
“You too,” Harry said. “Constant vigilance.”
Dawlish muttered something, and stalked off. Harry struggled to keep a grin off his face as he turned, and then fought not to break into a run as he headed for the broom closet. As he waited for Abador Brin, he wiped at his sweaty forehead, and took deep breaths to calm himself. Where is he? he thought, as he felt his face shift back to normal, and the world went out of focus. He squinted at the watch, but its hands were stuck at zero. Finally, the door clicked open; he lowered his wand as Brin stepped inside.
“Sorry about that,” Brin said, handing Harry back his glasses. “Did you learn anything useful?” Harry summarized the last hour for him; Brin nodded thoughtfully. “Society of the Sun? I never expected Cornelius to put that much together.”
“Is... is he going to be all right?” Harry asked. “I mean- I don’t really care, but... well, they won’t do anything to a Minister, will they?”
“I hope not,” Brin said. “For now, though, it’s you I’m worried about.”
“I think I’m all right,” Harry said. “I’m supposed to be having some sort of tour this afternoon, and that meeting- a chance for Scrimgeour to hold Stan Shunpike over me, I guess. After what I’ve just been through, it’ll almost be a relief.”
“Just be careful,” Brin said. “You never know who could be taking an interest in you next.”
Snape blinked, as he stared at the floor, an inch below his nose. He had been kneeling like this for almost ten minutes now; in the small corner of his mind that he kept secret from the Dark Lord, he wished that Voldemort would kill him, or end this game.
“You see, Bellatrix?” he finally heard Voldemort say. “For all your talk of disharmony, Severus is my most faithful of servants, just as you are. Aren’t you, Severus?”
“My life is yours to shape, or to end,” Snape replied, the ritual answer.
“So beautifully spoken,” Voldemort said, a trace of amusement in his voice. “You may rise.”
Snape stood slowly, keeping his gaze on Voldemort’s. Behind Voldemort, Death Eaters encircled the room; to Voldemort's left, Bellatrix stood, glaring at Snape. “If he is such-“ she began, before catching herself, and bowing her head to Voldemort. As his nod, she said, “If Snape is such a faithful servant, my liege, then he should tell us what has happened to Narcissa and her brat! They were supposed to accompany him- why are they not here?”
Voldemort nodded, and then returned his gaze to Severus. “Well, Severus?”
“I have not spoken to her since the previous night, my Lord,” Snape relied. “I do not know her current whereabouts.”
Voldemort nodded. “Yes- alas, dear Narcissa’s courage was never the equal of her concern for her whelp- that’s the main reason she was never granted the chance to wear my Mark. A shame, isn’t it, Bellatrix? It must frustrate you, this blot on the family honor...”
Bellatrix’s teeth clenched; she kept her voice even with great effort. “My liege- perhaps if you were to dispatch Snape to...”
High, cold laughter from the other. “That would be amusing, would it not? Well played- however, I have other plans for dear Severus. Plans that I know will please him greatly. Are you curious, Severus?”
Black eyes glittered. “I live to serve you, Lord; please tell me how.”
Voldemort rose from his throne; he walked down the steps until he stood next to Snape. Red eyes met black ones; finally, Voldemort smiled. “Six years,” he whispered. “For six years, Dumbledore made you watch over James Potter’s whelp- rubbed him in your face. Even helped that accursed Sirus Black escape- that cost you the Order of Merlin, did it not? Not to mention the unimaginable frustration of seeing one of your greatest enemies, taken from your grasp?”
“It did,” Snape said tightly.
“Well, then, Severus: I am nothing if not generous to my followers, and you are my most faithful follower of all. Accordingly, I grant you this highest honor: a chance to avenge yourself on the spawn of James Potter. You will bring Harry Potter here, to me... and then kill him.”
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no subject
Date: 2008-02-05 11:53 pm (UTC)Also, hooray for incoporating the Muggle world and its politics a little. I've always felt they couldn't be that darn disconnected.
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Date: 2008-02-06 12:39 am (UTC)