HP Fic: "Heal The Pain" - Chapter 20 - 'The Rescue'

[aibhinn_fics]

Title: Heal The Pain
Chapter 20 - 'The Rescue'
Rating: Teens
Words: 9,384

Harry watched as Ginny eyed the expanse of trees beneath them just before she dipped her wing and began spiralling down toward a medium-sized clearing. He dived after her on his borrowed broom, knowing that if he looked back, he'd see seventy-five other brooms following behind him.

He came to a landing next to her, at the edge of the clearing, and turned to watch as the others came in, some more gracefully than others. By the time the last of them had alighted, Ginny was in her human form again, wincing as she stretched out her arms. "Flying hurts," she observed.

He frowned in concern. "Are you all right? We could always make you another Portkey to--"

"No," Ginny said firmly. "I'm a member of the Order of the Phoenix, and that's my brother they've got in that cabin. I'm not going anywhere."

Moody and Remus approached, with Bill, Charlie, and the twins behind them. The Weasleys all looked exceedingly grim and determined. "All right there, Potter? Weasley?" Moody asked.

"Yes, we're fine," Harry replied.

"Good. Weasley, you know the area--where are we in relation to the target?"

"About a quarter of a mile north," she said. Turning to her right, she pointed through the trees. "Almost directly that way. Ron's being kept in a small room with a window, on the north side of the cabin. I didn't see any Death Eaters patrolling more than ten or fifteen feet into the woods at most, and the majority of them stood with their backs to the trees and watched the clearing. It was almost as though they were more concerned about guarding against each other than against anyone else coming for them."

Moody snorted. "They likely were. Not a lot of trust among them, and rightly so."

Twilight, who had been near the back of the crowd in the air, approached at last. "Good, you're all here. We need reconnaissance before we make any plans. How far are we from the target?" Ginny repeated her information, and he nodded. "Right. We need an idea of where the Death Eaters are, what the entrances are to the cabin, and what kind of resistance we're going to be seeing." He frowned, considering. "Onyx, Castor, Pollux, I want you to reconnoitre the cabin itself. See if there's a back door, and what kind of guards you can find, along with anything else you think is of interest. Blaze, Seth, I want you to reconnoitre the clearing in front of the cabin. All of you, I need everything you can give me, right down to the colour underpants the Death Eaters are wearing, if you get a glimpse. Get in, get back out. No heroics, hear me? There's no way five of you can take on twenty Death Eaters, even Disillusioned, and I don't want you trying. No sense giving away our element of surprise."

"Yes, sir," Harry said, echoed by the others. He noticed about ten Ministry officers--Aurors and Unspeakables--already ringing the clearing, and smiled in approval to himself. The first thing Twilight or Moody had done was set sentries. Nobody was taking anything for granted.

"Right, then. Come back as quick as you can with the information." Twilight turned to Ginny as Charlie and Bill left. "Miss Weasley, we have need of you back here, if you'd be so kind."

Ginny and Harry exchanged quick smiles and touched hands briefly before Ginny left with Twilight. Harry turned to the task at hand. "One of you two is going to have to Disillusion me," he said to the twins, "because I still don't have my wand back."

"Poor ickle Harrykins," George said sympathetically.

"I'll do it," Fred said, pulling out his wand. "But before we do, let's talk strategy for a minute."

"We know how to run a surveillance, Fred," George said with some asperity.

"I know, but I'm paranoid, so humour me, all right? Once we're in sight of the cabin, work your way round the back. We'll rendezvous behind the biggest tree on the edge of the clearing behind the cabin. If there's confusion about who's where, light your wand-tips behind the trees. It can't be much later than four, so there's still plenty of light; it's unlikely they'll be able to see it, and it'll be just enough for us to find each other. In case of accidental discovery, Stun the Death Eater and Disapparate back here. With luck, they'll assume we're either a local, or another Death Eater. If they do assume we're with the Ministry, the lot of us are far enough away that it's unlikely they'll find us in a cursory search."

"Someone will certainly hear us Disapparate," Harry pointed out.

"Yes, but that cabin and clearing are full of wizards, and surely someone's got to be Apparating or Disapparating round here. And we certainly don't want to be caught, do we?"

"Not before Ron's safe," George agreed.

"Right. Harry, since I have to Disillusion you, you go first. We'll follow at thirty-second intervals to keep from running into each other."

Fred reached out and tapped Harry on the head with his wand. Harry immediately felt the chill run down his neck, as though snow had got under his collar. He held his hands out and watched them disappear as the spell's effects reached them, then watched as his feet did the same.

"That is the weirdest thing to witness," George said in a tone of voice that suggested he'd said it before, and would again.

"I'm off, then," Harry said, struggling to keep his focus on Ron, where it belonged. "I'll meet you two there."

He glanced up to see where the sun was so he didn't get turned round, then headed off through the woods. This was an old evergreen forest with a thick canopy, which meant that the undergrowth grew in clumps since very little light reached the forest floor. He kept an eye on his footing to ensure he didn't step on anything that would make noise, but for the most part the forest floor was spongy with needles and he made no more noise than an owl in flight.

He moved directly forward until he could see the cabin through the trees, then angled to the right to work his way around back. The trees were only ten or fifteen feet from the back of the cabin, but he noticed four Death Eaters standing guard, two to either side of the back door, looking more alert than any Death Eaters he'd ever seen. He slowed his pace to a crawl, making certain he didn't brush any of the undergrowth that had managed to grow, or make any noise that might attract attention.

Near the southwest corner of the cabin--the farthest corner from where he'd approached--there was a huge old fir tree whose trunk was far too big for even two men to join their hands round, and whose lowest branch had to be thirty feet up. Harry cautiously made his way round the back of it, watching carefully to be certain the guards weren't paying much attention this way. He didn't have a wand to light, so he stepped a little further out of the way, to avoid having his foot trod on by whichever of the twins followed him.

After a moment or two, there was a breath of a voice from a few feet away. "Onyx?"

"Here," he breathed back.

There was a pause, and then a wand lit just a foot or so from Harry's chest. He reached out and felt for where the owner's hand should be, and found it, warm and solid. "Which are you?" he whispered. "I can't tell by the voice."

"George. Fred's on his way."

"Fred's here," a third voice said, and a wand lit from behind the tree next to them. "Let's get to work."

Following the procedure that had been drilled into him in the Corps, Harry, as point man, stayed to the far right. Fred would move to the far left, and George would take the centre. Each of them would make mental notes as to what they saw, then return to their base camp and compare them.

Harry got down and crawled on his stomach to get a closer view. Even though none of the guards could see him, if he accidentally bumped the branch of a fern or a bush, they'd be more likely to think it was an animal if it were low to the ground. He found a spot that was relatively comfortable, and took in everything he could.

Back door with a Muggle lock, probably secured; four guards at the back; windows to either side of the door, one tiny, the other bigger but farther away from the end of the cabin where Ginny said Ron was kept. The tiny one's probably a bathroom. Can't see in. He craned his neck to the right. No guards apparent on the south wall; that means that there's nothing of importance there. That fits, if Ron's kept in a small room on the north side of the cabin.

He tried to see whether the guards were carrying Muggle weapons, but finally gave up; their robes were too bulky to tell. Though, if they are, he thought, they've got slits cut in their robes for easy access, because the weapons aren't visible and there's nothing to indicate they've been Disillusioned and are slung over shoulders or strapped to belts.

He looked carefully for more to report, but there wasn't much. The guards stayed planted in their spots against the house, and their eyes didn't seem to focus beyond the tree-line. It was as though they were expecting their enemies to walk right up to them.

And maybe they are, if they're guarding the cabin from each other.

Slowly and carefully, Harry crawled backward, avoiding the brush, then got to his feet. Moving as silently as he could--which was silent indeed when he put his mind to it--he headed back toward the clearing where they had all landed.

When he got there, the twins had already removed their Disillusionment charms. He moved toward them. "It's me, Fred," he said in a low, clear voice--it was entirely too quiet in that clearing for the more than seventy people gathered there, and even though he knew the reason for it, it was a bit eerie--and touched Fred's shoulder.

"There you are." Fred followed Harry's arm to his shoulder, then tapped Harry on the head with his wand. Harry immediately felt the shivery sensation of the Disillusionment charm being removed, and saw Fred and George's eyes focus on him as he became visible. "All right," Fred said. "Debrief. George, what did you see?"

"Four guards, two to either side of the back door," George said promptly. "One window big enough to enter or exit by. Nobody patrolling the roof, and no entrance or exit there except by a stovepipe chimney."

"Harry?" Fred asked.

"Concur with George's findings on the west wall. The door had a Muggle lock on it, though I couldn't tell whether it was fastened. No window nor door on the south wall, nor guard."

"That tallies with what I saw," Fred said, nodding. "I also saw one window on the north wall, patrolled by one guard. I believe that's the window Ginny said she saw Ron through, but I couldn't get close enough to check for myself." Fred looked between them. "Recommendations?"

Harry had been thinking about this all the way back. "I recommend a team of four to go in after Ron," he said. "Stun or Petrify the guard on the north wall by the window, move in and Stun guards by the back door, then go in after him. They should probably take a Portkey to St Mungo's with them so that he can be removed from the scene immediately. Once Ron is safely away, they can rejoin the fight against the rest of the Death Eaters."

The twins looked at each other. Harry could sense that odd form of near-telepathic communication they'd evidenced before--what Ginny called Twinspeak. "We like it," Fred said after a moment, turning back to Harry.

"We had a plan in mind ourselves," George added.

"But yours is better."

"Let's take this to Twilight and Moody."

Twilight and Moody, when approached, were impressed. "That fits well with what we'd already decided," Moody said. "We're going to have all the Ministry officials--Unspeakables and Aurors--ring the clearing, and when the rescue team is in place and have signalled, they'll attack, creating a diversion. That should free the rescuers from all but the most devoted of guards."

Twilight snorted. "Devoted Death Eaters? Not likely. I daresay most of them will Disapparate at the first sign of trouble."

"But not all," Moody said firmly.

"Where will the members of the Order be while this is going on?" Harry asked.

"We've already spoken to Remus Lupin about it. They'll be Disillusioned and on brooms near the treetops. They're our second line of defence, in case there are more Death Eaters than our initial intelligence suggests; they can fire from cover and stay more or less out of harm's way."

"We'd better inform the squad captains of our plans, so that we can get them moving," Twilight said. He raised his wand above his head, and it shot blue sparks into the air. Though the sun was still high, they were clearly visible, and immediately one person from each group detached him- or herself and threaded their way through the near-silent crowd of people to receive their briefing.

"If we need you," Moody said in a clear dismissal, "we'll send up red sparks." He turned and joined Twilight.

George raised an eyebrow. "Well, since they don't need us here," he said, "let's go find the others. I'm fairly certain I saw Dad at some point in all this mess."

"He didn't stay behind in Hogsmeade?" Harry asked in surprise, following the twins through the crowd. They seemed to know exactly where they were going.

"Harry, mate, where have you been for the past five years?" George said over his shoulder, walking round a group of people who were standing closely together, murmuring softly. "Dad's always been right at the front of the fight against You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters. He's not about to hide in the rear guard now."

"Oh, for pity's sake, George, say his name!" Fred chided half-heartedly. "Oh--there they are."

Both of them broke into a jog, and Harry, perforce, did too. Bill looked up from the parchment he was studying and smiled, rising. "Here are Fred, George, and Harry," he said. Percy and Mr Weasley also rose and turned, and Charlie, who had already been on his feet, flashed them a grin.

"What news?" Mr Weasley asked.

Fred gave the details of the current plan while Harry craned his neck, looking to see where Ginny was. "We don't know yet who they'll tap for the rescue team, though," Fred finished.

"It had better include me," Hermione's grim voice said from behind them.

All three of them turned, startled. "'Mione!" Harry said, stepping forward to hug her. "Where have you been?"

She hugged him perfunctorily and moved back. "Anyone know why I wasn't originally informed of this?" she said icily, ignoring Harry's question to glare at each of them. "Why I was left in my little Forensics office, happily working on reports until I went looking for Twilight and couldn't find him?"

There were slow shakes of heads around the group. "No idea," Mr Weasley said, apparently baffled. "Unless they--well--" He stopped, flustered.

"Unless they knew about Ron and me, and tried to keep me out of it because I'd be too close? Too emotional?" She certainly wasn't emotional now; her eyes were hard as agate, her tone harder.

"That can't be," Harry said quickly. "They pulled in all the Weasleys." Because he'd specifically asked Order members to find them, he realised. But if Hermione was at work, only Twilight could have summoned her--none of the Order could even have spoken with her.

"Well, thank goodness for Circe and her ability to track Twilight," Hermione snapped. "If not for her, I wouldn't have known where to go after you left Hogsmeade. As it was, she was able to have a Portkey made for me that brought me straight here."

Harry realised suddenly that he still hadn't found his wife; he'd been momentarily distracted by Hermione's appearance. "Where's Ginny?" he asked.

"Flying secondary reconnaissance over the building in her Animagus form," Mr Weasley told him. "No, now don't fret, Harry. She'll be fine."

Red sparks went up from the direction of Moody and Twilight. "That's for us," George said. "They said they'd send up red sparks if they needed us. Why don't we all go? No sense in making them tell whatever it is multiple times."

Harry noticed the squad captains returning to explain what they'd been told to their people, as he, Hermione, and the Weasleys headed toward the command group. Twilight and Moody were speaking with Lupin, who was nodding as though in agreement. "Ah, good," Twilight said as they approached, "you're all here. I've got your assignments. Castor and Pollux, since you've thoroughly blown your intra-Ministry guise as a single man, you two will work together and head the group taking the south side of the clearing--the blue group. You lot have the farthest to go, so you'll want to collect your people as soon as I finish giving instructions. You, like the other two groups, are to wait in the brush until red sparks go up from behind the cabin, then move in and take out all the Death Eaters you can find. Got that?" Fred and George nodded solemnly. "Then take yourselves off to the side, use blue sparks to draw your men to you--you'll have two squads total--and go."

Fred and George obeyed. Twilight looked to Bill and Charlie. "Blaze and Seth, your group will take the east end of the clearing, opposite the cabin. Same drill--hide in the brush, wait for red sparks. You're the green group."

"Right," Bill answered for both of them, and they two stepped aside. Twilight turned to the others.

"Moody and I will command the third, and largest, group--the north side. We'll be largest because the room Red Knight is in is on the north side, so there almost certainly will be more guards on that side. You two, Zephyr and Onyx, along with Tonks and Miss Weasley, will be the rescue squad." He held up a hand to forestall Harry's immediate protest. "Miss Weasley has considerable recent experience from the War, so she can hold her own on her way in, and it will be she who will accompany Red Knight to hospital via Portkey. That leaves three trained officers not only to get her in there safely, but to fight their way out, and we needn't give any of you up just to see Red Knight safely to St Mungo's." He looked at Mr Weasley. "Arthur, we need you and Remus Lupin here to coordinate and to send any other wounded off if necessary. You can create Portkeys, both of you?" They nodded. "Excellent. Are there any other questions?"

"Where's Ginny?" Harry asked again. He really wasn't certain he liked the direction this was taking--he hated the very thought of putting Ginny in danger like that.

"Right behind you, Harry," her voice said.

He whirled, startled. "Oh. I didn't hear you back there," he said, a bit sheepishly.

She grinned at him. "Well, you wouldn't, would you? Owls fly silently."

"You lot," Moody said in a grim tone, causing them all to turn back to him, "are what all of this hinges on. Get in place, take out the guards outside the building, and send up red sparks. That'll be our cue to begin the diversionary attack. Remember: none of us will move until we see those sparks. Understand?"

They all nodded.

"Right. We'll get ourselves in place--you do the same."

Twilight had already moved a few paces away and sent up his own set of sparks--orange. A group was swiftly gathering around him, and as Moody joined them, they began explaining the details of their mission in low voices. A shadow swept over Harry, and he glanced up, blinking in surprise at the sight of a number of brooms apparently flying by themselves, heading in low over the treetops. The Order, already Disillusioned and getting into position, he realised.

Tonks appeared at his elbow. "All right, you three," she said in a manner very unlike her usual exuberant self, "As I'm the ranking officer here, Moody and Twilight have put me in command." She handed Ginny an old sock. "That's your Portkey to St Mungo's. Put it somewhere safe, and remember to have it touching Ron's flesh, not just his clothes, when you activate it." Ginny nodded and stuffed the sock into a pocket of her jeans. "Now," Tonks went on, still talking to Ginny, "I know very well just how capable you are--I've worked with you in the Order and I fought with you during the War. But no matter how capable you are, you are not to take chances. Your job is to get in there and take Ron to safety; ours is to see you safely in, then get back out ourselves. Got that?"

Ginny looked as if she wished she could find a reason to argue, but couldn't. She nodded.

Tonks turned to Harry. "You're without your wand," she began, her brow furrowing.

"I'm quite good enough at wandless magic to hold my own," he assured her. "I won't be a liability." She still hesitated, and he added, "Twilight and Moody obviously think I'm qualified. Remember Moody's challenge at the meeting this morning?"

She still appeared reluctant, but slightly less so. "All right," she allowed. "Hermione, I'm not worried about you in the least, but remember, our job is to get Ginny safely in to Ron first. After that, we can battle as much as we like, but you're not to actively go after anyone until we've got Ron safely to hospital."

Harry couldn't imagine why Tonks would give that lecture to Hermione, of all people, until he looked more closely at his best friend. Now that she'd been assigned to the rescue detail, the icy fury in her eyes had become a gleam of anticipation. Harry understood that gleam; he'd had it more than once in his life, particularly when he'd walked out to challenge Voldemort as the Dark Wizard had stood, laughing, over Ginny's inert body at the Last Battle. They've targeted Ron, Harry thought, watching her. That's made this mission personal for her--probably for the first time ever.

"They're waiting for us," Tonks said. "Let's go."

Quickly and quietly, the four of them moved into the woods toward the cabin. Tonks was in the lead, with Hermione behind her, then Ginny, and Harry tail most.

This was even more nerve-wracking than the earlier recon mission with the twins, as none of them were Disillusioned. It was too easy to hit a friendly with a mis-aimed shot when you couldn't see where they were. And the very last thing we need is to lose someone to friendly fire, Harry thought distractedly as he tried to watch his footing, Ginny, and the woods around them, all at the same time. What was it Elijah used to say in training camp? 'Friendly fire isn't.'

Tonks went to ground behind a tree, and immediately they all did the same, taking cover but keeping her in sight. A snap of a twig warned them as a Death Eater stalked through the trees, not even attempting to keep his passage quiet. Tonks signalled to Hermione, using the battle sign language the Ministry had taught in both Auror training and their own Unspeakables' training camp. Harry translated mentally. You fire, I'll back you up.

Hermione nodded, took a firmer grip on her wand, and stood, saying quietly but firmly, "Stupefy!"

The Death Eater had no chance to do anything but widen his eyes in surprise before the Stunning spell hit. Before he could crumple, Tonks stood and said, "Wingardium Leviosa!" The limp body remained hovering in midair, rather than crashing down loudly into the bush beside him. "Locomotor mortis," Tonks murmured, and the Stunned Death Eater floated slowly toward them. Harry was impressed; the whole operation had taken less than half a minute and had been so quiet that it was unlikely someone even ten feet away would have heard.

Tonks directed the Death Eater's limp body into a clump of ferns that had grown up where a tree had fallen, letting in sunlight through the canopy. She let it drop into the middle of the greenery, where it couldn't be seen unless one was looking for it. "There," she said very quietly. "Let's go see about the guard at Ron's window."

Ginny frowned. "Why can't I just go in through the window, without us having to go all the way around the back and in through the house?" she asked, just as quietly.

"Because we don't know what's beneath the window inside, and we can't risk you climbing over something noisy."

"But if we got the window open," Ginny said reasonably, "I could fly in, Tonks. I don't have to climb."

Harry blinked, dumbstruck at the simplicity of it. He'd somehow managed to forget she was a full Animagus, even after the events of the day. Tonks, too, seemed startled. "Oh," she said. "Erm. That--could work."

"And be loads safer for all of us." Hermione had pulled herself out of her own surprise and was now smiling at Ginny, who blushed. "Good thinking."

Harry looked at Tonks, his heart much lighter than it had been. "Change of plans?" he asked hopefully.

Tonks blinked again, then, as if coming back to herself, said, "Yes. Good work, Ginny. Come on, let's go."

They started off single-file again, in the same order as before. Harry was much more comfortable now; it was, as Hermione had said, a great deal safer for all of them, particularly Ginny.

It was as silent around the cabin as it had been in the woods. The single guard Fred had seen next to Ron's window was still there, looking more than a little bored. They crawled on their bellies from clump to clump of undergrowth, making no sound. The guard noticed nothing. He was leaning against the house, feet bracing him, arms folded across his chest. Harry couldn't quite tell because of the way the shadow from the overhanging roof fell across his face, but he thought the guard's eyes might even be closed. 'Dedicated Death Eaters' indeed, he thought.

Tonks signalled silently again, first to Hermione--Same. You attack, I'll backup--then to Harry--You, window. They nodded. Ginny, who did not understand the signals, simply waited, trusting that they'd tell her when to move.

They took this guard down the same way they'd taken the other, leaving him propped out of sight behind a tree. Scanning to either side to be certain the coast was clear, Harry dashed out of the brush and ran in a crouch toward the window. He ducked down beneath it, then slowly and carefully raised his head to peer inside. There was nobody there but Ron, bruised and unconscious, lying with his leg at an unnatural angle. Swiftly, Harry pressed his hands to the window and, remembering the snake at the zoo on Dudley's eleventh birthday, whispered an incantation.

The pane disappeared, and Harry ducked instinctively as Ginny flew in over his head. She landed beside Ron, melted back into her human form, and pulled the sock from her pocket. She folded Ron's limp hand around it, making certain she was touching it, too. "Activus," she said, and both of them disappeared.

Harry turned to flash a thumbs-up at Tonks, but a series of shouts from the front of the cabin startled him. More shouts followed, then a flash of what was clearly a thrown curse. They've started without us, he thought in surprise. Apparently Tonks had the same thought; she went ahead and sent up the red sparks, but was sprinting toward the noise as she did. Hermione and Harry followed.

It was like being in the Last Battle again. Aurors and Unspeakables were engaged in fire-fights with Death Eaters--more Death Eaters than Harry could ever remember seeing in one place. There must be more than a hundred! he thought as he waded in, wandlessly casting Disarming and Stunning spells on everyone he saw wearing black robes.

"Avada Kedavra!" he heard a woman's voice shout from his right. He threw himself to the ground by instinct, but the Killing Curse hadn't been aimed at him. It had been aimed at--

--What?--

--another Death Eater, whose lifeless body slumped to the ground. The woman who'd cast it turned toward Harry, but he got off a Stunning spell just in time. Picking himself up, he moved into the shadow of a tree and took a closer look at what was going on. What he saw astounded him. Not only were Aurors and Unspeakables fighting Death Eaters--the Death Eaters were fighting each other!

He was so surprised by what he'd seen that it took him a long moment to understand the ramifications of it. If Death Eaters are fighting Death Eaters... then what we have here are both of the groups who've been fighting for pre-eminence, not just the one who kidnapped Ron! We could destroy them utterly--finally take out the ones who escaped after the Battle and end the War for good!

And with that, he stepped out of the shadows and began working methodically through the crowd, Stunning everyone he saw in a cowled robe without any concern for his own safety. It was as though his fear had been completely removed from him--as though he were walking through a crowd of children, not a mass of people, at least two-thirds of whom were enemies.

He'd Stunned at least ten when a figure stepped directly in front of him, jarring him out of that odd trance-like state. Harry blinked, then narrowed his eyes. "Malfoy," he acknowledged.

"Potter," Draco responded. "So this is your idea of a little fun, is it?"

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Apparently more than just me. Seems you've got more enemies than the Ministry."

Malfoy sneered. "None worth speaking of," he said. "But that's neither here nor there. This is finally our chance to see who's better, for good and all."

"Merlin's beard, Draco, do you still wonder about that?" Harry asked, feigning surprise. "Nobody else in the world does."

Malfoy gritted his teeth. "I've still got your dear friend Weasley," he snarled. "I wouldn't be too cocky if I were you."

"Actually, St Mungo's has Ron. I saw Ginny take him. Handy things, Portkeys. I imagine he's had his leg repaired by now and--"

Malfoy growled and drew his wand. Harry held a hand, palm-out, towards him. "Watch it, Malfoy," he warned. "Even wandless, I'm more powerful than you. Don't be stupid."

He fully expected Malfoy to attack him anyway, and so when the blonde's eyes widened and he stepped back a pace, he was startled. It took him a moment to realise Malfoy's eyes were focused over his shoulder, not on him. "No!" Malfoy screamed. "Don't! He's mine!"

"Avada--" said a hoarse woman's voice behind him.

Harry was halfway to the ground before he consciously processed what was going on, and the fear returned in spades, clenching at his insides as he dove for the grass, praying he would be in time.

But instead of the second half of the incantation, he heard what sounded like a firecracker on Guy Fawkes Night. He hit the ground, rolled into a somersault, and came up on one knee, facing the woman whose voice he'd heard.

It was Bellatrix Lestrange. But she wasn't aiming at him any longer; she was looking down at her chest, at the hole that had appeared there. Blood spurted from it, soaking her robes. She raised her head, her expression one of shock and dismay, then crumpled to the ground.

Harry looked round to see Major Miller standing about fifteen yards away, lowering the gun that had now been Disillusioned. Harry knew he should give some acknowledgement, some thanks to his barrister for saving his life, but all he could do was stare. Miller apparently understood; he grinned, flipped a jaunty salute to Harry, and turned back to the fighting.

Malfoy was still staring at Bellatrix. "What--was that?" he breathed.

"A gun," Harry said, pushing himself to his feet and shaking off his shock. "A weapon from the Muggle armed forces. Even more effective than Avada Kedavra, because it will kill with or without intent."

Malfoy swung to look at him, eyes wide, breathing ragged. "D-don't kill me," he breathed, dropping his wand and holding up his hands. "Please, please, don't kill me, Potter--I'll do anything--"

Harry grimaced in disgust. "Yes, I know you will, Malfoy," he spat, and held out his hand. "Stupefy!"

Malfoy collapsed to the ground, Stunned, and Harry immediately scanned for his next target... but there didn't seem to be any. Death Eaters littered the ground like fallen leaves, guarded by the men and women he'd come with. It was over.

It was over.

His knees gave out, and he sat down hard on the grass, staring at Bellatrix Lestrange's dead body. Neville, mate, he thought, I wish you'd survived to see this. She's gone.

"Harry!" Hermione was pelting toward him, with Fred and George right behind. "Are you all right? You're not hurt, are you?"

He shook his head and allowed George to pull him to his feet. "No, I'm fine, thanks to Major Miller." He hugged Hermione close. "It's over," he whispered. "We got both groups of them. The War is over!"

"All but the clean-up," Fred said dryly. Harry released Hermione and looked at him questioningly. Fred nodded toward his left, and Harry saw Twilight, Moody, and Umbra Nacht coming toward them. Harry took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and went to meet them.

--------------------

Ron was awake and coherent when Harry, Hermione, and the Weasleys who'd fought arrived at St Mungo's, weary but jubilant. Mrs Weasley was already there, of course, summoned by Ginny once Ron was with the Healers. Once they'd all had their chance to see that Ron was all right, Mr Weasley took Ginny (who was nearly dead on her feet) and Mrs Weasley out of the room while Harry, Hermione, Bill, Charlie, and the twins took their turns telling Ron the story of his rescue and the subsequent battle.

Harry had pulled Ginny to him for a moment before she left. "Ginny, I need you to listen to me," he'd said quietly but intensely. "Now that it's known that you're a Seer, even if it's only known to a handful of people, you're at risk. Until I can arrange a guard detail for you, or some other means of keeping you safe, I want you to promise me that you won't go anywhere but St Mungo's and The Burrow."

She'd frowned. "What about your trial?"

"I'll have protection for you by then, don't worry," he'd said, smiling. "But I'm quite serious, Gin. There's no way to stop information once it's out, and there's no guarantee everyone at the Ministry is trustworthy. All right?"

He must have looked as concerned as he felt, for she'd nodded. "I promise to stay within wards," she said, and attempted a smile of her own despite her exhaustion. "Don't worry about me."

"Too late for that," Harry had said wryly. He'd given her a quick kiss and watched as she left with her parents.

Now, half an hour later, the story finished, Ron stared at them in amazement. "Death Eaters attacking each other?" he repeated. His bed had been raised so he was sitting up, his leg unbandaged but still resting atop a pillow. The Healers had told him to expect to be staying in hospital a couple of days; the hours that his leg had remained unset had caused further damage, and it would take some time to repair. Privately, Harry suspected that the Healers were keeping him in an attempt to force him to rest.

"Apparently, the group led by Malfoy was the one who'd kidnapped you," Bill told him, "and the group led by the Lestranges happened to attack on the same day. We had enough people with us that it was more or less a rout, though we did lose a pair of Aurors and three Unspeakables, mostly by getting in the way of others' spells. It was rather like Bedlam out there."

Ron drooped slightly at the report. "Five dead, eh?" he said quietly. Hermione, who was sitting closest, took his hand and squeezed it.

"Don't you dare pretend to be responsible for that, Red Knight," Charlie snapped in his officer voice. "You were ambushed. You could hardly be blamed for that."

"What about Blade?" Ron asked. "Was he ever found?"

Bill shook his head slowly, and Ron drooped even more. "No traces of him at all so far," Bill said. "Was he with you when you went into Hogsmeade?"

"Of course; we were on assignment. We were supposed to be investigating a report of suspicious activity on the outskirts of town. There's a little cave up in the mountains there where Sirius used to hide when he was on the run, before he went to Grimmauld Place. I thought they might be up that way, so Blade and I decided to take a look. It was supposed to be a quick-in, quick-out, low-risk mission." He leaned back against his pillows and closed his eyes, squeezing Hermione's hand again. The others were silent. "How many were wounded?" he asked finally.

"Eighteen," Charlie said, "but mostly minor wounds. All in all, I'd say we got off rather lightly, especially given how many Death Eaters were there."

"Yes, we did," said a deep, gravelly voice from behind them.

Harry shot out of his seat, extending his hand, ready to cast a hex. The others, except for Ron, all had their wands out as well, though they lowered them as Major Miller came limping in the door. Harry and Hermione snapped to attention--he was, after all, higher-ranked than they--but he waved them back down. "At ease, Captain Potter, Captain Granger. We won't stand on ceremony. Please, sit down, all of you."

"What happened to your leg?" Harry asked as they all sat.

Miller dropped into the chair that Mr Weasley had sat in and pulled a face. "I slipped and twisted my ankle, of all things. That'll teach me to go to battle dressed for the office. Damned shoes." He looked at Ron. "Good to see you're recovering well, Captain."

"Thanks to you and everyone else who came looking for me," Ron said.

"Nonsense. I came along for the ride. I've not had so much fun in years." Miller turned his attention back to Harry. "Captain Potter, you and I need to speak very soon. Tomorrow morning, nine o'clock. Bring Miss Weasley along, too."

The sober expression on his face made Harry frown. "Trouble, Major?" he asked.

"I don't think so, but there's always the possibility. It may actually turn out to be the best thing for us." He clapped Harry on the shoulder and rose. "I'll let you get back to your visiting. Captains--Colonels." He nodded toward Ron, Hermione, Bill, and Charlie, then limped out and closed the door behind him.

Ron frowned. "What was all that about?" he asked, bewildered. "Harry, you don't suppose all this has done something to your trial, do you?"

The others traded looks of worry. Harry shook his head slowly as he leaned back in his chair, still frowning. "I don't know," he said slowly, "but I'm anxious to find out." He, too, rose. "I'm going to see if I can find Nacht and Twilight, and then I think I'd better get back to the Burrow and see how Ginny's doing."

And let her know Major Miller wants to see us tomorrow, as well. Please, he thought as he slapped Ron fraternally on the shoulder, hugged Hermione, and shook hands with the others, please, if there's anybody listening--I could really use some good news, for once.

-----------------------

The first thing Harry noticed as they exited the lift the next morning was the music emanating from Major Miller's office. Again. He felt the briefest of flickers as they passed through what must be an alarm ward. Looking down at his wife's expression, he grinned despite himself; either something was irritating her nose, causing it to wrinkle in the cutest of fashions, or she'd felt the ward too.

The guard Minister Bones had promised him yesterday had been waiting downstairs at The Burrow when they'd got up this morning, and had accompanied them silently on their way here. He'd waited at the bottom of the lift, saying there was no need for him to go up with them. Harry took that to mean that Major Miller's office was even safer than home, and was grateful for the reassurance; it was one less thing on his mind.

The office was brighter, somehow, than the last time he'd visited. The desk was spotless; there were no boxes of documents waiting to be shipped, no unanswered correspondence piling up on the desk, and, most significantly, no temporary administrative assistant behind the desk. Miss Levine was back, and all was right in Major Miller's office. The familiar scent of coffee swirled through the air. The door leading into Major Miller's chambers was open, and the sound of unaccompanied piano was spilling out. The music was the sound of competing melodies chasing each other like squirrels racing around trees. Harry scratched deeply into his knowledge of Muggle classical music and guessed that it was probably Bach; Aunt Petunia had collected quite a lot of classical music and had liked to play it whenever it was warm and the windows were open. Not for herself, Harry had decided years ago; for any of the neighbours who might possibly come close enough to hear it.

Miss Levine looked serene, twirling on her chair as she moved from one work surface to the next. Her formerly pallid complexion had picked up a bit of colour, and she'd done something with her hair.

"Captain and Mrs Potter," she said with a broad smile. "He's expecting you. Go right in."

Ginny started towards the door, but Harry stopped her with the briefest of touches on her arm, just above her elbow. "Thanks," Harry said, "but I'd rather wait until he finishes."

"Oh," Miss Levine said, sighing, "that old thing. He's been practicing that all morning. There's a spot he cocked up somewhere near the middle of the fugue about eight-thirty, so he's been playing it over and over again. It was delightful the first three times through, but I'm getting a little tired of it by now. He expressed himself quite, er, forcefully the first time through, so I think this is some sort of twisted penance."

The music abruptly stopped. "It's not penance, Jenny," Major Miller said in his usual raspy voice. "Snake-belly-low Protestants don't do penance--or so my thoroughly Catholic office manager has informed me once or twice."

Miss Levine rolled her eyes. "Yes, sir, whatever you say, sir, and by the way, I don't think it's physically possible to do some of the things you suggested when you muffed that part of the fugue. The Potters are here; are we going to volley back and forth, showing them how witty we can be, or are you going to see them?"

"Why can't we do both?"

Miss Levine hooked her thumb, pointing towards the open door, mouthing "That man," to them, pulling an exasperated face. Ginny chuckled softly and walked into the inner office. Harry followed.

The inner chambers were as cluttered as the outer office was composed. Stacks of parchments and rolled scrolls were on every available horizontal surface. A sack trolley next to the coffee pot held a stack of document boxes, each of which was marked with the same Ministry of Magic Court-Martial Docket Number. The top of Miller's desk held a stack of notebooks, each with coloured clips and flags peeking out of the edges like garden gnomes peeking through the leaves of Mrs Weasley's garden at de-gnoming time.

Major Miller twirled around as they entered and rose from his chair at the keyboard, walking with a detectable limp. He took Ginny's proffered hand, pulling her into an avuncular embrace and kissing her on the forehead and cheek. "I didn't get the chance to congratulate you the last time I saw you, Mrs Potter."

She beamed. "Thank you, Major Miller."

Releasing Ginny, he turned to Harry, gripping his hand firmly while giving him the briefest of hugs. "Do you know how completely cocked-up my day became after you missed your last appointment?" he asked with a note of humour in his voice. He moved stiffly to the chair behind his desk, waving them to the client chairs.

Harry sat, not quite knowing what to say; the sudden reminder that he would be dead without Miller's interference yesterday had stopped his voice. Finally, he cleared his throat. "Nice shooting," he managed. "Thank you."

Miller smiled wryly. "It's just like riding a bicycle; you may step away from it, but it does all come back to you."

A look of concern had formed on Ginny's face. "Harry, what are you talking about?" she asked, frowning.

Harry hesitated; he hadn't told Ginny how close he'd come to dying, simply because there had been so much else to say in the meantime. Miller, again coming to Harry's rescue, said, "Mrs Potter, there are two things that I'm qualified to do: try cases, and shoot Muggle firearms with fair accuracy. Yesterday, I was preparing to do the one, and ended up doing the other. Bellatrix Lestrange was about to curse your husband when I accelerated her appointment to meet with the Almighty."

"I see," Ginny replied, throwing a we'll talk about this later look at Harry, who tried to look repentant. "Major Miller," she continued, "what did you do in the Royal Marines when you weren't playing the piano?"

"I was a sniper," Major Miller said, twiddling a quill on his desk.

"I see," Ginny said again. Harry saw her eyes beginning to shine with unshed tears. "Well, I thank you also--I've got used to having him around." She reached over without looking and took Harry's hand.

Time to turn this conversation in a less-maudlin direction. "You called?" he asked Miller, rubbing a thumb across the back of Ginny's hand reassuringly.

"Yes, Captain." Miller dropped his quill on the blotter and sat back in his chair, putting one foot on the now-empty file drawer that stood open to his left. "As I said earlier, lawyers live vicarious lives--the client makes all the serious decisions. That's what we've come to today. And as this directly affects Mrs Potter as well, I asked her along."

Harry felt a familiar chill along his spine. "What decision needs to be made, Major?" he asked soberly.

Miller waved a hand, indicating the boxes stacked round the room. "I'm ready for trial, Captain Potter. These notebooks have everything tabbed and indexed: every witness interview, every deposition transcript, every photograph and document, every line of direct and cross-examination. I'm ready. I can beat this case--we can win at trial."

"But?"

"But--the prosecutor called yesterday afternoon, just before I came to see you in St Mungo's. They've offered a resignation for the good of the service in lieu of Court-Martial."

The news hit like a punch to the gut. Harry was silent, trying to take it all in. Resign in lieu of Court-Martial... resignation instead of trial--but why?

Ginny spoke up, pulling Harry from his reverie. "I don't understand, Major. What does that mean?"

"It means that Harry submits his resignation," Miller said, rocking back in his seat and crossing his right ankle over his left on top of the drawer. "Once the Commander of the Unspeakable Corps accepts the resignation, the charges are dismissed and Harry becomes a civilian. No more trial. A certain outcome, versus the gamble inherent in any trial." Miller turned his attention back to Harry. "I can win this case, Captain, I'm certain of it--but I can't guarantee the outcome. So," he smiled, "what do I do, Boss?"

"Give me advice," Harry said, more sharply than he'd intended.

Miller shrugged, still smiling. "That's fair."

Harry sighed and rubbed his face with his free hand, trying to organise his thoughts. This sudden jump from the weeks-long worry about a trial, to a sudden 'all clear', had his guts all a-roil, and he didn't know what to think. "If I decide to go to trial," he said, "what happens if we win?"

"If we win, as certain as night follows day, you will be separated administratively on the grounds that you are unfit to serve as an Unspeakable, based upon your actions that night. I can't beat that case--the burden of proof is lower and frankly, you know that your temperament isn't what it needs to be for the Corps. You're a damn good leader, Captain Potter, but following orders isn't really your style." Miller paused. "And I don't think you want to ask for reassignment to a technical or administrative billet. I can't see you shuffling papers for the rest of your career."

Truer words have never been spoken. "And if I resign instead? Take what they've offered?"

"You become a civilian, your wand is returned, and you'll have no criminal record. Whether or not you retain your clearance will be up to the discretion of the Commander of the Corps. Which brings up the next topic of discussion." Miller took his feet down from the drawer and sat up, leaning his elbows on his desk and folding his hands. "Major-General Twilight came by to visit right after I got notice from the prosecutor; spooky coincidence, that. He said something about a discussion regarding a liaison between the Unspeakables and some rummy outfit known as the Order of the Phoenix. I told him that I didn't know what he was talking about, as I'm just a dim-witted barrister, but I'd pass it along to my client and see what he had to say."

"The--Order?" Harry repeated, dumbfounded.

"Yes. Seems the Major-General, Umbra Nacht, and some bloke with the unlikely name of Lupin had a discussion whilst you were in the midst of cleaning up the mess you lot made yesterday up in the Lake District." Miller dropped his bantering tone and pinned Harry with a gaze. "What he actually said when he talked to me was, 'Onyx is too damned good an officer to lose, and if he goes to trial, we will lose him. I don't want to do that.'"

Harry's thoughts whirled. Some part of him insisted it couldn't be this easy--there was no possible way it could be this easy. I performed an Unforgivable curse on another human being, he thought. I tortured him. I knew exactly what I was doing, and I tortured a man. Can I really just walk away from that? Can I live with myself if I don't do something in reparation?

He looked at Ginny. She was sitting silently, biting her lip as though to keep from influencing him, but he could see the light in her eyes. She wanted him to take this offer. She wanted him to resign from the Corps, rather than go to trial and risk losing everything.

Of course she does, wanker, he thought in disgust at himself. It's her life, too. You made her part of this; you tied your life to hers. It's not just you anymore.

He looked down at their joined hands, at the place where his wedding ring should be. The gold band rested against his chest beneath his shirt, an almost unnoticable weight until he thought about what it really, truly symbolised.

If you were willing to go to Azkaban to keep her from having to testify on your behalf, he thought, looking back up at his wife's face, if you were willing to sacrifice yourself at the Battle rather than watch her get hurt or die, don't you think having to live with your actions is a remarkably tiny price to pay? And if it's reparation you want--if you become the liaison between the Order and the Ministry, you'll still be working with the Corps, albeit as an agent rather than an officer. If you go to trial, you'll be dishonourably discharged and unable to help at all. Another thought occurred to him--If you're dishonourably discharged, what will that do to Ginny's guard detail? Will they still be able to protect her?

And that decided him.

"Major Miller," he said finally, turning his eyes back to his barrister, who sat waiting patiently for him to come to a decision, "I'll be resigning from the Corps of Unspeakables. Thank you for all you've done on my behalf."

Ginny squealed with delight and launched herself at Harry, who just barely caught her. She flung her arms around him and squeezed as tightly as she could. Harry buried his face in her hair and held her. "It's all right, love," he murmured. "It'll be all right."

"I know," she said thickly, and he realised she was crying with happiness and relief. "I know. I just can't believe it." She pulled back and looked at him, and he reached up to wipe the tear-tracks from her cheeks with his thumbs. "I thought for a moment you were going to refuse."

He heard the door softly click shut, and knew that Major Miller had left them alone. "I considered it," he said quietly. "But I--I can't just let it go, Gin. I can't allow myself to be thrown out of the Corps and lose my chance to keep fighting, just to satisfy my conscience over having tor--"

She put her fingers over his lips, stopping him. "You have nothing to feel guilty about, Harry," she said fiercely. "Nothing. You and I have fought evil nearly all our lives, along with our families and our friends. Our lives have been irreparably damaged by these people, for no reason other than their perverted need for power and control. You lost control once--once­--in nineteen years. I think that's a pretty good record, myself."

Harry chuckled; he couldn't help it. "How am I going to argue with that?" he said.

"You can't, so don't bother."

He laughed outright this time. She grinned and turned as though to say something to Major Miller, pausing when she saw he was gone. "Where is he?" she asked, turning back to him.

"I heard him leave a minute ago. I expect he's giving us a chance to talk before I actually do anything irreversible." He smoothed a wisp of hair from her face. "There's another reason I decided to resign, you know," he said.

"What?"

He smiled. "You," he said softly. "If it were just me, I could endure just about anything. But I couldn't put you through that as well."

"Harry, you didn't have to do anything just for me," she said earnestly. "I'd go right through everything with you. You know that."

"Yes, I do." He kissed her. "But this way, you don't have to."

She blinked rapidly, and he saw the tears forming in her eyes again. "I love you, Mr Potter," she said.

"I love you, Mrs Potter."

He helped her shift so she was sitting sideways across his thighs, and they just held each other for a long moment. At last, Ginny said, "I imagine Major Miller is waiting for us."

Harry smiled into her hair, running a hand up and down her back. "This is his last case before retiring, Gin," he said. "I daresay he won't mind if we take up his office for another little while.