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