It was the pricking sensation in Harry's scar that first alerted that him that trouble might be on its way toward the Burrow. With the aid of a little burst of adrenaline, Harry roused himself from his drowsy stupor. Swiftly, Harry sat up, pushed himself up from Ginny's bed, and grabbed his flask of Polyjuice potion. He was confident that it had only been about half an hour since he had last roused himself for a swig of the potion, but he took another swig to ensure that he retained Bellatrix's form throughout any attack that might occur.
Securing the bottle onto the belt he had secured around his waist, Harry stepped to the window of Ginny's room and peered out, taking care to move slowly to prevent anyone outside of the Burrow from detecting his presence and alertness. He could see nothing even after charming his eyesight to pick up magical frequencies.
Harry let out a small sigh, wondering if perhaps he was overreacting to the sensations in his scar. In the Lost War, as Bellatrix was so fond of calling it, a slight pricking sensation was something well below Harry's notice. However, Harry was not prepared to gamble in a world where he had not yet established the meaning of every sensation he felt through the scar.
Almost effortlessly, Harry drew his wand and flicked it, casting a silencing charm that would prevent anyone outside of the Burrow from hearing what was happening inside. He stepped out of Ginny's room and onto the staircase landing. "Weasleys!" Harry screamed toward Molly and Arthur's bedroom. "Trouble!"
Feeling slightly disconcerted at hearing Bellatrix's relatively high-pitched voice coming out of his mouth, Harry trotted down the staircase to the main level as he listened to Arthur Weasley bound out of bed.
"Where?" Arthur demanded as he rushed down the stairs in his pajamas with his wand.
"On its way, I think," Harry said, trying to inject a certain amount of diffidence in his voice as he knew Bellatrix naturally would have done.
"Are you sure?" Arthur asked, peering out the windows and into the darkness of the Burrow's yard.
"Not completely," Harry said, realizing too late that Bellatrix would not have admitted that. "Let's just call it a sixth sense. Better safe than sorry, right?"
"Of course," Arthur said.
"I think I will be most effective outside from outside the Burrow," Harry said, moving through the main floor of the house toward the kitchen. "You and Molly should stay in here. Erect shield charms on the inner sides of your walls. Some sound shields for the first part of the battle would not be amiss, either."
"The inner side? Doesn't that leave the structure exposed? And why the sound shields?" Arthur questioned, following Harry to the Burrow's kitchen and wondering precisely what strategy was dictating Bellatrix's strategic advice.
"Trust me on the sound shields. As for the shield charms, their purpose is to save your life, not your house," Harry explained as he surveyed the Weasley's yard from a kitchen window. "If you have extra time, erect shields on the outside, if you wish. Believe me, you will be grateful you started with the inside in the event that things get that bad."
"And what if we get trapped inside?" Arthur demanded, still not buying the peculiar strategy.
"That's why I'll be outside," Harry said quietly as he slipped out the back door and crept through the garden. As he reached the garden's perimeter, he disillusioned himself and brazenly walked across the open yard to a copse of trees that stood relatively near the perimeter of the property.
The prickling in his scar remained, and Harry wondered whether Voldemort would personally lead the attack this evening. Voldemort or no, however, Harry suspected that there would be more than a few Death Eaters. Methodically, he began reviewing the spells he had once been trained to use in large fights against Death Eaters. He had gotten a little bit of practice using them when masquerading as the ghost of Ashworth to haunt Death Eaters. But, he reckoned that he would have been better off if he had found a way to practice them more often in the past. He did not blame himself too much, though. Without the Room of Requirement, it just was not feasible to rehearse attacking and defending against large numbers of hostile combatants.
After as much as a half an hour had passed, Harry began to hear faint popping sounds. It seemed that he had been correct. The popping noises lasted for about five minutes. Sighing silently, Harry estimated that there might be as many as fifty Death Eaters. Gingerly, Harry reached out with his mind to ascertain whether Voldemort was near. He was not. This only partially relieved Harry, for Harry knew that Voldemort could very well appear mid-battle.
Perhaps the only way to ensure that Voldemort did not decide to intrude was to make sure that the Death Eaters never felt they had the upper hand. It seemed to Harry that Voldemort's style was to only show his face and associate himself with the situation if it was going well for him. On the other hand, if Voldemort felt the objective was important enough, he might appear if it seemed his Death Eaters were about to fail.
Realizing that he would just have to wait and see, Harry shifted his position so that he could see the direction from which the pops had come. The wards Bellatrix had modified and erected would be useful, he reckoned, but he knew that no ward could indefinitely hold anybody back.
It took a few minutes and couple of vision-modification spells on Harry's eyes, but eventually, Harry spied a group of Death Eaters gathering together en masse near the ward boundaries on a side of the Burrow that did not have many windows. It appeared to Harry that the Death Eaters intended to combine their efforts to breach the wards. Harry further suspected that other Death Eaters had taken positions at different parts of the ward boundaries to move inward after their compatriots breached the wards.
Normally, those players in a battle would have concerned Harry immensely, but Bellatrix had explained her wards to Harry, and he knew that it was infinitely more practical to focus his efforts on the group that would bring down the wards. Additionally, Harry took comfort knowing that Arthur and Molly would probably be able to pick off individual stragglers that tried to sneak about, particularly when the Weasley couple did not have to fear the main group and could observe the attackers from relative safety.
The skin on Harry's arms prickled as the large group of Death Eaters collectively gathered their magic. Steadying his breathing, Harry gripped his phoenix-feather wand with one hand and eased one of his Wandel wands in its holster. It was a little too early for the ghost of Ashworth, but that strategy would be needed reasonably soon.
Abruptly, the large group of Death Eaters let loose with their wands and at least two dozen spells simultaneously bombarded the wards Bellatrix had erected. The wards held, but the explosion of light and sound that followed stunned Harry, and he faltered back a couple of steps, covering his eyes with his left arm. Before he recovered his full faculties, Harry heard another bombardment. The wards held again. His eyes watering, Harry forced himself to glance at the wards so that he could assess them. The Death Eaters had succeeded in all but destroying the wards. It would take one more good hit to bring them down. Even as Harry made this assessment, he saw that the Death Eaters were preparing that one last hit.
Rapidly, Harry erected sound shields around himself and then used his hands to shield his eyes. He knew that in more ways than one, the third time would bear results. The third barrage came and the wards shattered. Although it was the nature of such wards to disintegrate once breached, Bellatrix had taken steps to alter the way of things.
To begin with, she had ratcheted up the magical tension of the spells and energy holding the wards together. A professional ward maker would have disapproved. Such ward makers knew that until spell makers had found ways to reduce the tension level in wards, wards were equally dangerous and protective to those shielded by them because a failing ward that imploded could very well kill the people it had been protecting.
Bellatrix, too, was well aware of the disaster that could follow the destruction of a high-tension ward. However, rather than avoid disaster, Bellatrix had opted to merely redirect it by erecting a passive inversion field that activated itself only upon being faced with a certain amount of force-about the same amount of force that would be present at the failing of the ward.
Consequently, the third time proved to be the charm for Harry and the Weasleys, for rather than imploding with a great deal of force, Bellatrix's wards exploded. Harry still was not looking and could not hear because of the sound shields, but he literally felt the sonic shockwave from the explosion thump against his sound shields. Harry peeked out from behind his arm and saw that a good portion of the Death Eaters responsible for bringing down the wards were now dead or incapacitated. Those unlucky ones had shielded several of the others from the brunt of the force, however.
Harry reckoned that at least a dozen Death Eaters had survived and hoped that none of the stragglers who had taken positions around the perimeter of the wards had found a way to shield themselves in time. Realizing that he needed a better vantage point, Harry started running for the Weasley's broom shed, wishing that he had been given more time to strategically plan for a battle at the Burrow and desperately hoping there was a spare broom or two in the shed.
The Death Eaters spotted Harry moving across the yard and started shooting stunners and hexes at him. Harry ducked low, but did not slow his run toward the broom shed. He did, however, swing his wand out toward the larger group of Death Eaters and repeated a spell incantation five times in quick succession. Small, but extremely bright, orbs of light shot out from his wand and zoomed toward the Death Eaters. Whining loudly and crackling with what seemed like deadly amounts of magical energy, the orbs started dancing above and among the Death Eaters.
The orbs disoriented the Death Eaters, temporarily putting them on the defensive while Harry made it to the broom shed. He threw open the door and found that he had a choice between two regrettably old Cleansweeps. A moment of déjà vu overcame Harry as he grabbed one of the brooms and realized that in his own version of the future, he had ridden that very broom a couple of times when playing Quidditch with Ron and his brothers.
Fluidly, Harry mounted the broom and kicked off, flying relatively fast. Most of the dozen or so Death Eaters were focused on shooting destructive hexes at the Weasley's house, but there were enough standing around aimlessly who spotted Harry, or rather Bellatrix as Harry appeared to be, zooming out of the shed and into the airspace above the Weasley's land.
They began shooting stunners at Harry and he soon found himself dodging beams of red light almost as if he were dodging bludgers. If it were not for the fact that they were trying to kill him, Harry would have found the challenge to be exhilarating. He freed one of his hands from the broom handle, got his wand into the hand, and started firing back at the Death Eaters, though he did not content himself with mere stunners. He let them have exploding hexes.
Feeling a little adventurous as he wove in and out of the red stunners on the Weasleys' Cleansweep, Harry even used summoning charms to throw some of the Death Eaters into the air. This tactic proved quite terrifying for the Death Eaters, but they soon realized they could apparate back to the ground or cast spells to cushion their falls. Seeing that this tact lacked effectiveness, Harry ceased it.
Eventually, Harry realized that he was going to have to bring more firepower to bear if he was to repel the attack sooner than later. He also suspected that the ghost of Ashworth might be the best trick up his sleeve. Unfortunately, he did not think he could do it while flying through the air and dodging spells.
A plan formed in Harry's mind and he took a moment to iron it out as he continued to zoom about the Weasley's property and exchange spells with the Death Eaters. Hoping that he had enough coordination to pull it off, Harry zoomed toward the perimeter of the property and then looped back, heading toward the back of the Burrow, where the Death Eaters could not see him, and drawing level with the roof. Harry stuck out his legs and landed on the roof, simultaneously using his wand to cast the image projection spell.
Harry did not cast out his true image, though. He formed an image of Bellatrix riding the Cleansweep and sent it zooming over the roof to continue the line of flight Harry had commenced with the loop around the back of the house. Once he was confident that he had a firm footing on the roof of the Burrow, Harry let his mind go to the image he had just projected where he continued his fight with the Death Eaters.
The Death Eaters could see no difference between Harry and the image projection that was now zooming around the property shooting and dodging spells. The only difference that was possible to observe was that the spells the image projection cast never seemed to hit their target or anything in particular. In the heat of battle, though, the Death Eaters did not notice this.
Given a little time, they might have noticed, but Harry was moving through his plan rapidly. Suddenly, the image of Bellatrix became a kamikaze as it zoomed toward one group of Death Eaters. Reflexively, they shot several spells at the projection. Falling short of having the image appear to collide with the Death Eaters, Harry directed the image into a fiery crash about five yards from them.
Ecstatic, the Death Eaters cheered as they watched flames explode around what appeared to be Bellatrix's bloody body and the broken broom she had been riding. Feeling somewhat repulsed at the sight of his wife's body burning, even if it was only an illusory image of it, Harry drew his Wandel wand and jabbed it fiercely toward the Death Eaters who had gathered around the image of the dead body. Suddenly, they were engulfed in a cloud of blackness.
With his phoenix feather wand, Harry cancelled the image projection spell, causing Bellatrix and the flames consuming her body to disappear. Then, rapidly, while still maintaining the cloud of blackness around the Death Eaters with his Wandel wand, Harry used the phoenix feather wand to extinguish as many light sources as he could. He then released the blackness spell from his Wandel wand and cast the spell that would summon the ghost of Ashworth.
The ghost appeared a ways down the lane that led out to the main road from the Burrow. It took only a moment for the Death Eaters to spot it.
"It's Professor Ashworth!" screamed one of the Death Eaters, the voice of whom sounded vaguely familiar to Harry. Harry reckoned that it might have been one of his former students. Not very many people would have much reason to refer to him as "Professor."
The Death Eaters were clearly conflicted as to what they should do about the ghost, for they had heard enough stories about it. Given enough time, they might have thought to do something practical, like run away, but Harry was not giving the Death Eaters much time.
Harry twisted the Wandel wand and the ghost's eyes flared, the flaming eyes easily visible from where Harry was standing. Smiling grimly, he flipped his phoenix feather wand so that he was holding it like a dagger. Harry then began stabbing down with it. In response, bolts of lightning began showering down on the gathered Death Eaters, though they did not stay gathered for long.
As the onslaught continued, the Death Eaters scattered in complete disorder, but the bolts of lightning followed them relentlessly. Harry supposed that it was not a very efficient way to fight the battle, but it seemed sufficient, and he was enjoying himself. Eventually, every Death Eater that Harry could see had been downed and was very likely in need of medical attention. It was doubtful that more than a few had died, though, for Harry was not quite so powerful as to be able to cast lightning with killing power at every stroke. But, he was sure that those he hit would remain stunned for a day or two and could expect to wake up with some awful burns. Such burns were probably far better than the punishment those who had fled would face when Voldemort got his hands on them.
From the now strong prickling sensation in Harry's scar, he got the feeling that Voldemort already knew of the failed attack. Smiling grimly, Harry ceased his storm of lightning on the Weasley's yard. Before apparating down to the ground to inform the Weasleys that he indeed had survived, Harry took a moment to ensure through his scar that Voldemort was not nearby or on the way.
Just as Harry's delicate attempts to scout out Voldemort's mind had revealed that Voldemort was indeed far away and probably not about to come to the Burrow, an assailant thudded against Harry from behind and knocked him to the roof, sending both of Harry's wands clattering over the edge and down into the Weasley's garden below. Gasping, Harry rolled over and tried to push the attacker off, but it was no good. Bellatrix's body did not have the muscles to which Harry was accustomed.
"Bella," the attacker rasped, "oh, Bella!"
Harry's eyes widened as he recognized Rodolphus Lestrange. Not good, Harry thought. Should have been more careful about those Death Eaters who went around the perimeter. Still pinned beneath Rodolphus, Harry tried to find a way out of the situation. Flexing his leg, Harry brought his knee up and into Rodolphus's crotch.
Rodolphus's breath came out of his lungs as if Harry had kneed him in the stomach or lungs. Seizing upon the moment, Harry hit Rodolphus and knocked the Death Eater's own wand from his hand. Struggling, Harry tried to reach for the wand, but it rolled off the roof before Harry could get to it.
Recovering, Rodolphus addressed the person he thought was Bellatrix from behind eyes that shone and watered fiercely. "You bloody witch, you'll pay for that."
"You should have seen it coming," Harry muttered.
This seemed to anger Rodolphus. Still lying atop Harry, he brought his fist up and pounded down on Harry's face a couple of times before grabbing Harry's throat and beginning to squeeze. Harry brought both of Bellatrix's hands up and wrapped them around Rodolphus's throat, hoping that perhaps he could squeeze harder and hold his breath for longer.
Unfortunately, Harry found once again that Bellatrix did not have Harry's muscles. To make things worse, Harry's arms and legs were beginning to hurt fiercely. Rodolphus released his chokehold on Harry and slapped Harry's arms away. "You think you're a match for me?"
Harry did not respond because he now felt pain all over his body. His silence seemed to anger Rodolphus even more, and the Death Eater grabbed Harry by the throat and began choking him again. Feebly, Harry reached up and tried to choke Rodolphus as well. Suddenly the pain engulfed Harry and he felt like his skin was on fire. It was then that Harry realized that it had been more than an hour since his last dose of Polyjuice.
Rodolphus continued choking Harry, but he was now staring in consternation at his assailant. The transformation seemed to last forever, but as soon as it passed, Harry secured a chokehold on Rodolphus and squeezed much harder than Bellatrix's hands had been able. Then deciding to change strategies, Harry released his hold on Rodolphus's neck and delivered a blow to the Death Eater's nose, breaking it.
Harry then wrapped his arms around Rodolphus and rolled, bringing himself to the top. He punched Rodolphus a couple of more times and then began choking him. Rodolphus was barely fighting back as he stared with shock into the face of Harry Ashworth.
Thoughts were racing through Harry's head as he watched the life drain from Rodolphus. Though he was no stranger to killing enemies on the battlefield, Harry was not accustomed to staring the victim in the eyes as he did so. Should he kill Lestrange even if he thought he could capture the wizard alive? Surely, Lestrange had done many awful things deserving of death, but Harry did not see himself as a judge or jury.
On the other hand, if Harry left Lestrange alive, he would expose at least one of Harry's secrets. Were Harry's secrets so crucial to the war efforts that he should feel justified in killing to preserve them? And what of Bellatrix? Harry knew that Lestrange would always come after her if left alive. Once again, though, was it Harry's duty to kill someone because they would probably go after his wife? Could he condemn someone for what they might do in the future?
Before Harry could decide one way or the other, Rodolphus sensed Harry's hesitation and with a sudden surge of energy, pushed Harry off of him, shooting to his feet and preparing to jump on Harry. Harry's defense instincts kicked in, and he rolled toward Lestrange. He then shot his foot up toward the Death Eater and planted it squarely in his crotch, effectively giving the Death Eater another dose of pain, but more crucially, pushing him from the roof.
Screaming, Rodolphus Lestrange fell from the abnormally tall roof of the Burrow where he landed head first on one of the stones that made the path that led to the Weasley's back doorstep. The sound of Lestrange's impact should have been sufficient to signal that the Death Eater was dead, but Harry still peered over the edge of the roof to confirm that Rodolphus Lestrange had suffered a severely broken neck.
With a sigh of relief, Harry fumbled around his person until he found the bottle of Polyjuice potion. Taking a dose, Harry laid back and endured the transformation back into his wife's body. He then lay there, contemplating the death of Rodolphus Lestrange.
Harry was weary when he returned to his and Bellatrix's flat. Happily, he discovered that Bellatrix, in anticipation of his coming home from the Weasleys, had ordered some breakfast from a local restaurant and brought it home for them to share.
"I take it the attack happened," Bellatrix observed drily as she sat down across from Harry, who still was under the effects of Polyjuice. Save for the fact that Harry looked like he had flown through a fiery briar patch, the couple looked almost identical.
"You could say that," Harry said, popping the cap off his orange juice and taking a long sip. "But, I think it would be more accurate to describe it as a battle or a war."
"Oh?" Bellatrix asked, pausing as she waited for Harry to elaborate.
"Your booby trap wards took out a lot of them at the start, but there were still plenty to fight after that," Harry explained, pausing long enough for a mouthful of egg. "All in all, there were about fifteen for the morgue and twenty for Azkaban at the end. The rest escaped."
"That many Death Eaters participated in the attack?" Bellatrix questioned. "I would have expected no more than ten."
"That's about what the Weasleys thought," Harry agreed. "By the time Arthur and Molly realized that we were facing so many, it was too late to send for the Order or Aurors."
"Why send so many Death Eaters to kill the Weasleys?" Bellatrix wondered.
"Moody thought that maybe they were trying to capture the Weasleys immediately after an Order meeting so that they could interrogate them, or worse, impersonate them at the next meeting," Harry said.
"Interesting," Bellatrix said, putting down her fork and taking a sip of orange juice from her own cup. "The Order and Aurors arrived to clean up afterward, did they?"
"Yeah," Harry said. "They were pretty impressed with your skills."
Bellatrix quirked a smile. "As they always should have been."
"There's just one other thing," Harry said after a brief lull in the conversation. "Rodolphus Lestrange was there. He died."
"Well done, Harry," Bellatrix said, smirking. "Did he die a dimwit or did he go down fighting?"
"Err, he was fighting," Harry admitted.
"I guess you can take satisfaction from that, too," Bellatrix said.
Harry nodded awkwardly, not wanting to talk about the subject anymore. The couple continued to make their way through the breakfast, alternating between eating and perusing the different sections of the morning edition of the Daily Prophet.
"I suppose you will want to get some sleep," Bellatrix said, finishing the last sip of her orange juice. She set it down and pushed the cup and plate to the side for Kreacher to clean. "I was planning on running some errands. Later today, there is something with which I probably shall need your help."
"All right," Harry said, suddenly remembering the Order meeting the evening before. "Before you go, I was hoping you could make out a check to the Order."
"Say again?"
"I attended the Order meeting last night," Harry said. "I promised to donate twenty-five thousand galleons toward helping Death Eater victims. I'll probably need you to sign and owl the check, seeing as I can't duplicate your signature."
"You just went and dropped twenty-five thousand galleons on the Order?" Bellatrix asked, her voice raising half an octave.
"It's for a good cause," Harry defended. "Besides, it's my money."
"It's our money," Bellatrix retorted in a heated tone of voice. "Couldn't you have consulted with me before doing that?"
"I didn't think it was a big deal," Harry said. "Dumbledore promised to give an accounting of it."
"Oh, great."
"It will be spent responsibly," Harry reassured her.
Bellatrix sighed. "Maybe I am overreacting."
"No, I understand," Harry said. "I'm sorry."
Bellatrix shook her head. "No, it's nothing. I have spent plenty of galleons when you were not around."
Harry nodded slightly, though he agreed immensely. He searched around for a way to change the subject. "What was it you wanted my help with later?"
"Ah, yes, that," Bellatrix said, seeming suddenly nervous. "All my horcrux tests failed," she admitted. "The only thing left to do was to give the diary to Pettigrew and let him write in it."
Bellatrix did not have to say anything more than that for Harry to get the lay of immediate plans. Harry knew all too well what the inevitable result of letting the diary take over Pettigrew would be. Vaguely, he could understand the strategy and how it could outweigh even the risks posed by keeping Tom Riddle prisoner. Despite this, Harry felt uncomfortable with having had to sacrifice Pettigrew for the sake of the greater good. Unbidden, memories of his third year came to his mind-when he had spared Pettigrew. On the other hand, he also remembered his fourth year… and all the other things Pettigrew had done in the war that followed.
"You don't approve, do you?" Bellatrix asked boldly.
Harry closed his eyes and sighed. "It's just that it is so sudden."
"You think you can go spend a bunch of money on the Order, but when I do something else on my own, you fall apart," Bellatrix said, her voice again rising to that unpleasant half octave step.
"I thought I already apologized for spending thousands of galleons without forewarning you," Harry retorted, now feeling rather irritated.
"So, now you think I should apologize for taking the next logical step in this war?"
"Well, if we're going to start killing prisoners in cold blood, then yeah, I would like to be involved in the decision beforehand," Harry declared angrily. "Or alternatively, if you're going to be killing people without consulting me, then maybe I would like to donate money to charity without consulting you ."
"Well, then, be my guest," Bellatrix screamed before her voice dropped into a deathly cold tone. "Only, if you expect me to write the check, forget it. Go to Gringotts and get a cashier's check. Or perhaps, sign your own bloody name." With that, she stood up and stalked out of the room. A moment later, Harry heard the door slam.
Letting out a sigh, Harry reckoned that he might as well go take a shower and then sleep it off. He only wished that he could have the comfort of knowing that Bellatrix was sleeping it off, too. Harry looked around for a clock to check the time. With any luck, he could be fast asleep by the time the Polyjuice wore off and thus avoid the awful transformation back into his own body.
Professor Dumbledore was sucking on two lemon drops when Moody arrived straight from the Weasleys to report on the aftermath of the battle. The aged ex-auror exited from the green floo flames in the fireplace and sat himself down in a chair across the desk from the headmaster.
"I hear that it was far worse than any of us anticipated," Dumbledore said.
"Pretty much," Moody said.
"No casualties, though?"
"None," Moody said, suddenly grinning viciously. "That girl wiped the floor with the Death Eaters. I reckon Voldemort is still punishing the ones that escaped."
"Did Arthur or Molly describe the battle for you?" Dumbledore asked, curious to hear just how well Bellatrix did in a battle against a large number of assailants.
"Even better," Moody said, reaching into his robes and retrieving a small vial. "Arthur gave me the memory. I think you'll want to see it."
The pair was soon inside of Dumbledore's Pensieve, watching as the wards violently exploded outward. Dumbledore eyed the events carefully and very analytically. Moody, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying the show more than he was analyzing events.
"High-tension wards, I should think," Dumbledore observed.
"Clever, wasn't it?" Moody said, his tone of voice completely absent of anything grudging. It seemed that Bellatrix had won a fan in him.
"Dangerous, I think," Dumbledore replied.
"Yes, but executed flawlessly."
The wards fell and they watched as Bellatrix disappeared from sight only to remerge on a broomstick. "I find it odd that Mrs. Black suddenly has developed an affinity for flying," Dumbledore commented as he watched Bellatrix weave in and out the hexes being shot her way all while firing of her own spells.
"It's never too late to learn," Moody observed as he used his wand to take control of the memory and speed it up.
"Except that I've found that those who don't take to broomsticks in their childhood often do not take it up as adults," Dumbledore countered. "I do not think Mrs. Black ever rode a broomstick while at Hogwarts. Don't you find it odd that she is now riding a broomstick with the skill and precision of a professional Quidditch player?
"Perhaps," Moody said, brushing off the observation. "This is the important part right here," he said, slowing down the memory just as Bellatrix disappeared from sight yet again.
Dumbledore and Moody then watched as Bellatrix disappeared before suddenly shooting over the top of the Burrow and crashing into the ground. Surprise showing in his twinkling blue eyes, Dumbledore stared at Bellatrix's burning corpse.
"An illusion spell, I should think," Moody declared, pausing the memory and stepping forward. He leaned down, sticking his head through the fake flames around Bellatrix's body.
"It would appear that Bellatrix did not share everything she knows about illusion spells with us." Dumbledore concluded.
"That's a pity," Moody said. "This particular illusion spell is very good, but not perfect. If we could use this illusion spell, we could use the Ashworth ghost ploy almost whenever we wanted."
Where are imperfections in this illusion?" Dumbledore asked, moving closer to the illusion.
"The illusion of blood is everywhere, but there are no open wounds," Moody explained. He then straightened himself and pointed to the roof of the Burrow that faded into obscurity. "I assume that Bellatrix stationed herself up there. We won't see her anymore because Arthur's line of vision was completely cut off from there."
The two aged wizards then observed as the battle proceeded with the appearance of Ashworth's ghost and the storm of lightning. When they exited the Pensieve, Dumbledore returned to the chair behind his desk and sat down heavily. "Perhaps I have estimated Mrs. Black's prowess," he said by way of conversation.
Moody did not take a seat. "Gives us something to think about. We should increase our efforts to recruit her to working directly in our ranks."
"You're probably right," Dumbledore agreed. "I was already planning on speaking to her about other matters."
"Hopefully your meeting with her happens soon and goes well," Moody said. "I'm afraid that I promised Arthur that I would go and help erect new wards as soon as I finished talking to you."
"They aren't going to ask Mrs. Black to re-erect her high-tension wards?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes twinkling.
"Though highly satisfied with the results, Arthur and Molly feel like they would prefer less… exciting wards," Moody observed, grinning crookedly as he existed the room and shut the door behind him.
Dumbledore's eyes continued to twinkle as he stared off into space for several moments. He was just about to push himself out of his chair and make his way down to breakfast when a knock at the door announced a new visitor.
"Come in," Dumbledore called.
The door opened to reveal Rose Potter. "Hello, Headmaster, I was hoping you might have a moment."
"Yes, of course," Dumbledore said very solemnly, rising to invite her in to take a chair. "What can I do for you this morning?"
Rose took offered chair and leaned forward in it. "Leo and I have been in communication with Bellatrix Black," she began. "She's searching for more magical objects like the diary."
"Yes, I am aware of that," Dumbledore said, not entirely sure how much he wanted to reveal to Rose.
"I know where one is," Rose announced.
This got Professor Dumbledore's attention. "How did you come to know where it is?"
"I had a vision in our Divination class," Rose explained.
"When you broke the crystal ball," Dumbledore interrupted, suddenly having caught onto the reason behind the story of Rose's stranger-than-normal behavior that had circulated among the staff during the past few days.
"Err, yes," Rose admitted.
"Then I must applaud you for taking steps to protect the secrecy of that vision," Dumbledore said, a slight note of approval in his voice.
"Thank you," Rose acknowledged. "I thought that the fewer who knew, the better. Leo and I did take steps to inform Bellatrix, though. We were hoping that she might be able to tell us more about the hiding place."
Dumbledore sat back in his chair and regarded Rose with thinly veiled consternation. "You took steps to keep the vision a secret, but then immediately informed Mrs. Black? I thought that given your past history with her and these magical objects, you might at the very least be hesitant to associate with her."
"We have had our differences, but I know she's on the right path," Rose admitted, speaking quickly as her façade of maturity fractured while she tried to explain an illogical act.
"All right, so you have overcome your differences," Dumbledore said, accepting the proposition for the sake of the conversation. "Now, why would you need to consult Mrs. Black about the hiding place if you saw it in vision?"
"The thing is, I had a vision of the room where the object is, but Leo and I cannot find the room anywhere in Hogwarts even though we know that the room is in Hogwarts. We contacted her to see if she knew anything."
"Did she?"
"I think so," Rose said. "But, she would not tell us anything about the room."
"Fascinating," Dumbledore said. "Perhaps if you told me about the room I might recognize it."
Rose described the room and everything she had seen in detail for Professor Dumbledore, who listened with rapt attention. "Once we find and enter the room, I suspect it will take quite a bit of time to hone in on the object itself considering how much stuff is in the room."
"I am afraid that I do not know anything about this room," Dumbledore admitted, speaking slowly as he mentally reviewed his memories for anything that might ring a bell. "There are many rooms that are not always accessible and that have been forgotten. Perhaps the room you saw in vision is one of those rooms. Or perhaps, it is a room like the Chamber of Secrets."
"Yes, that was what I was thinking," Rose said. "What do you suppose we should do?"
"Do?" Dumbledore asked.
"We will want this magical object for ourselves, will we not?" Rose asked.
"Yes," Dumbledore agreed hesitantly. "Obtaining these objects is now one of my utmost priorities for waging the war against Voldemort. However, Mrs. Black seems to be more effective at accomplishing this task than I or anyone else."
Rose looked at Professor Dumbledore quizzically. "So, what are you saying then?"
"I think," Dumbledore said slowly, "that it would be helpful to the Order, and the war effort in general, if you offered Mrs. Black any assistance that you are willing to offer should she ask."
"So, help her find and capture these objects?" Rose asked.
Dumbledore nodded slowly as he looked past to Rose and stared into space. "Yes. Please do not speak of this to anybody, however. Even Order members. The capturing of these objects is a highly sensitive operation. Secrecy is imperative."
"There is little I do not tell Leo," Rose replied. "And what about my parents?"
Dumbledore was silent for several moments. "I think that you can involve any of your young friends that you feel you can trust and towards whom Mrs. Black is not averse. As for your parents, that will have to be your concern when you decide what aid you can offer Mrs. Black if she asks."
"Why do you not ask other adult members of the Order to help Bellatrix?" Rose asked, frowning.
Professor Dumbledore shrugged, and slumped forward, leaning on his desk. "I am afraid I do not have much choice in the matter. I think Mrs. Black needs assistance in her endeavors, but she has so far refused to accept any save for, on occasion, you and your friends."
"Why would she only take assistance from my friends and I?" Rose wondered.
Dumbledore smiled faintly. "I suspect it is because she feels she can manipulate and overpower you easily. Working with older Order members involves too many discussions where people express their own opinions about how something should be done."
Rose did not seem to appreciate the suggestion that Bellatrix viewed her as someone easy to manipulate, but she pushed past that. "And if Bellatrix captures an object with our help? What then? Do we allow her to take it to wherever she hides? Or do we attempt to capture it for you?"
Dumbledore frowned. "Do not try to subvert Mrs. Black's efforts. For the time being, I will let her decide what is to be done with these objects."
His cloak billowing behind him, Snape retreated from breakfast in the Great Hall and made his way down through the castle and into the dungeons to his office so that he could make last minute preparations for his first class of the day. To his surprise, he found the door of his office open and the light on. Whipping out his wand, he stalked into the office, prepared to verbally abuse whichever student he found there. Inside, he found Bellatrix Black sitting at his desk in the process of thumbing through a rare potions text.
"How did you get in here?" Snape barked.
Bellatrix looked up from the text and locked her gaze on him. "Hello, Severus."
Snape stood silently, glaring at her, the question still in the air.
Seeing that he was not about to back down, Bellatrix snapped shut the potion text and stood up. "Surely you remember the time when my husband was potions master at Hogwarts," she said. "This was his office, and I spent a lot of time here."
Snape leered at Bellatrix as she returned the book to its rightful place on one of the shelves. "Professor Ashworth may have been the potions instructor, but he was by no means a potions master."
"I think my husband would have had no qualms in agreeing that you were always better at potions than he," Bellatrix said. "I, too, think you are a marvelous potions mater. In fact, that is why I have come to see you."
"What do you want?" Snape hissed.
"Veritaserum," Bellatrix answered.
"For what?"
"Pettigrew," Bellatrix said, retreating to visitor side of the desk as Snape slithered in and established ownership over his chair. "Most potions are for sale in the right places, but not Veritaserum. Seeing as I have not yet cozied up to the Ministry, I thought of you as the next best opportunity."
"I am not really inclined to assist you in your shenanigans," Snape said. "Particularly, I am not inclined to help because while you have captured Pettigrew, you have yet to produce Draco for your sister and have failed to send her word about his condition."
Bellatrix smiled. "Fear not, lover boy. Draco is safe."
"Then hand him over to his mother," Snape ground out angrily as his nostrils flared. "Keep your oath."
"I never promised delivery," Bellatrix replied, smirking. "I promised to not kill him and help him when I can. I have not killed him and arguably, you could say that I am helping him."
"What does it profit you to keep custody of Draco?" Snape bit out, trying to hide rising emotions.
"It will profit me quite a bit," Bellatrix said calmly. "In fact, I think it is about to profit me this very moment."
"How so?"
"Well," Bellatrix said slowly. "If you give me a small vial of Veritaserum without further fuss, I promise to contact Narcissa within the next seven days and arrange for her to have the chance to visit with Draco for a few hours. There is a half-decent Muggle restaurant not far from where Draco has taken up residence. He and his mother could have lunch. Draco would love it. After all, I do not really go out of my way to feed him. You could even come along, if you wanted."
"How dare you," Snape hissed.
"It is for a good cause," Bellatrix reminded him. "You know? As in ending the war? I could turn you and Narcissa into war heroes."
"The end does not always justify the means," Snape tried to argue.
"Look Severus, if you make this any more difficult, I will go upstairs and convince Professor Dumbledore that I need Veritaserum. If I have to do that, Narcissa does not get to see Draco this week, and you will still be handing over a sample of your Veritaserum," Bellatrix declared.
"I'm going to inform Albus of this," Snape said as he stood and unlocked his potions cabinet.
"Be my guest," Bellatrix said irritably.
Scowling even though she had gotten precisely what she wanted, Bellatrix stalked through the Hogwarts dungeons. The Veritaserum was for a good cause, and surely, Professor Dumbledore would have given it to her had she but asked for it. She just did not want to talk to him today-not about horcruxes, not about Pettigrew, and certainly not about sizeable donations to the Order. A vague thought crept into her head that maybe she should just go up to the Headmaster's office and write the check Harry had promised. It was for a good cause, after all. Harry had not meant to offend her.
Bellatrix shook her head and quashed the thought. Of course he didn't mean to offend me, she thought furiously. He just seems to think that he can make important decisions independently while I cannot. How dare he question me about Pettigrew! How dare he be offended! I know what I am doing. Doesn't he trust me?
"Bellatrix?" a small voice asked, intruding on Bellatrix's thoughts.
Realizing that she had let her guard down while thinking about Harry, Bellatrix spun around to identify who had addressed her. It was Ginny Weasley, and she suddenly looked like she regretted interrupting Bellatrix's train of thought.
"Hello, Ginny," Bellatrix said very formally while attempting to regain her composure.
"I just wanted to thank you," Ginny said rapidly, her face heating up in embarrassment. "My mum told me about how you have been sleeping at the Burrow, and then of course, last night."
Silently, Bellatrix regarded Ginny for a moment before answering. "I will be sure to pass along your gratitude."
Ginny looked shocked. "But… if… then how?
"Polyjuice," Bellatrix said, suddenly smirking. "Remember though, that little tidbit is still protected by the oaths of secrecy you took." She was about to turn her back on the Weasley girl, but suddenly another voice was hailing her.
"Mrs. Black," came Rose Potter's voice.
Bellatrix suppressed an annoyed groan.
"Mrs. Black," Rose said again as she approached the spot in the hallway where Bellatrix and Ginny were standing. She was carrying her satchel, seemingly on her way to her morning class. "What are you doing here?"
"Making social calls," Bellatrix said. "What do you want?"
"I just wanted to let you know something."
"What?" Bellatrix asked.
"On this hunt for magical objects, my friends and I are willing to help you," Rose said. "If we can do anything, let us know."
From the look on Ginny's face, this seemed to be news to her.
Bellatrix allowed the smirk to return to her face. "Yes, well, the next time I need to invade Hogwarts and need someone on the inside, I will let you know. Otherwise, you shall have to wait for summer." Bellatrix said.
"You are too kind," Rose said somewhat sarcastically.
"Aren't I, though?"
"But," Rose said, lowering her voice substantially, "I reckon we could sneak out of Hogwarts if it was important enough."
Bellatrix rolled her eyes. "I can see it already," she declared. "The tide of the war turns because Hogwarts students start cutting classes."
"Let us know should the need arise," Rose said blithely, overlooking Bellatrix's sarcasm.
"Oh, I will," Bellatrix said, a false grin on her face as she casually waved goodbye and walked away from the two younger witches. She hoped that she could find a less-travelled path that would take her to the secret entrance she had employed to get into the castle unnoticed.
"So, let me see if I have this straight," Amelia Bones said to Arthur and Molly Weasley as she reviewed the notes she had taken in a small notebook. "You were asleep in bed. Suddenly, this attack happens. Your wards suddenly explode. You are exchanging spell fire with a rather large force of Death Eaters, and then suddenly the ghost of Harry Ashworth appears at the end of your lane, walks on up to the house, and lets loose with rapid-fire lightning strikes."
"The lightning came after the ghost's eyes flared," Arthur corrected, looking at Amelia with an extremely bland expression in his eyes.
"Right," Amelia said, noting it on the parchment. She shut the notebook, placed it on the table, and picked up the cup of tea Molly had provided at the beginning of the interview. "It may be just me," she said, "but I find it a little odd that this ghost, who has only ever shown itself in London, suddenly showed up here for a Death Eater battle in the countryside."
"Well, everywhere the Death Eaters go, the ghost is sure to follow," Molly suggested.
"That's feasible enough," Amelia admitted, sitting there and casually sipping tea as if the matter had been settled. Just as Arthur and Molly relaxed, Amelia struck. "Now, tell me. Who was sleeping in your daughter's bedroom last night?"
"What makes you think someone was sleeping in Ginny's room?" Molly demanded.
"The blankets were rumpled," Amelia pointed out.
"Ginny could have rumpled them at Christmas," Arthur said.
"Yes," Amelia said, "right after dying her hair black and leaving some of it on the pillow."
"Are we the ones on trial?" Molly demanded.
"No," Amelia said, "but I have a strong personal interest in certain current events."
"Well, how about you do everybody a favor and keep your theories to yourself," Arthur said.
"Notice that I waited to broach the subject until after my colleagues finished cleaning up your yard," Amelia said. "Be assured that I will be the soul of discretion." She stood up, took her notebook, and slid into her cloak pocket. "Give Bellatrix Black my regards, if you will."