“They hate you, Harry.”

“I know.”

“So why do you keep helping them?”

“Because I’m stupid.”

-From a conversation between Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy

Harry walked silently towards the house. It was absolutely destroyed. A stray wall was still standing but was blackened and beginning to crumble. The front step, half missing, was covered in debris. Remnants of books and tables were scattered through the disaster, and the only objects whose identity could be discerned were the bodies of Hermione’s parents.

He stumbled back to the step and sank onto it. One hand dragged through his hair, and the other slowly spun his wand. He knew that he could not have saved them. The vision came too late. It was not his fault; he knew it, but it did not matter.

Whoever was at fault, they were dead. Hermione’s family was dead. She was an orphan like he was. The fact, in any other case, would have created a bond between them, but for him, it would only create a larger rift. Resting for a few moments, Harry collected himself, eliminating sadness, and firming his resolve.

“Happy Christmas, Hermione.” He whispered sarcastically. Walking away from the wreckage and pulling on his invisibility cloak, he heard a faint breath behind him. He drew his wand as he spun, preparing to fight whatever had snuck behind him.

There was nothing.

Harry scanned the area both visually and magically. Hermione’s dead parents were the only others present. He was alone, and he knew it, but he also knew that he had heard something. Turning again, taking a few steps, testing, Harry heard the noise again. “Damn, what the bloody hell is this? As if my life isn’t enough fun, now something I can’t see is following me? Sirius, sometimes I hate my life.”

Once more he heard it. This time though, it was almost a moan, or a failed attempt at a word. Harry’s eye barely saw the movement, but he ran for it instinctively. Hermione’s father had just shifted his hand. The man’s skin was cool beneath Harry’s fingers, but there was fading pulse still present. His body was battered, beaten, bruised, and broken, but he was alive. Harry recognized most of the spells, but three were inexplicable. He pulled the invisibility cloak from his shoulders. It pooled beside him as he concentrated on his sudden patient. Checking Hermione’s mother with one hand, he closed his eyes and returned to the father.

The school had never bothered to teach him healing spells and Severus’ Dark Arts books taught the fine art of survival of the fittest. He knew only what he had gleaned from his time in the Hospital Wing, and the few books he had glanced through. Those spells were quickly exhausted. The spells he needed had only been cast on him while he was firmly unconscious, and he had no recollection of them.

Ashanel. Harry stopped his useless spells. “Ashanel is a healing and restorative draught. It has the ability to save someone on the brink of death. On the brink of death. This certainly counts.” Harry almost left to retrieve it, but he heard Severus’ voice lecturing on its properties instead. Whispering, Harry tried to remember all of them. “Ashanel is instantly addictive. Patients who use it must be hospitalized within a few days for withdrawal symptoms. If they aren’t they won’t survive.” It was an extremely dangerous drug. He shook his head. “It’s better than death.”

He was on his feet, about to Apparate, when everything happened at once.

Behind him, a voice breathed, “Morsmordre.”

Beside him a portkey activated, revealing Hermione, Ron, Arthur and Moody.

Ahead of him, there was a series of cracks, and the Daily Prophet press team appeared.

There were screams, shouts, flashes, threats and a whisper of noise. Harry turned back to the whisper, which had come from the half-conscious man in the wreckage. “Mr. Granger, hold on. Your daughter is here, hold on for her, please,” Harry begged.

Mr. Granger moaned again.

Harry stood, and immediately had to throw up a shield spell; Hermione’s reductor curse ricocheted into the darkness. He gave her no opportunity to cast another. Apparating to Hogsmeade and shouting a summoning charm, Harry waited a few seconds until his bag flew to his hand. Only a moment was spared to check the contents before he disappeared once more.

The scene had descended into chaos. Photographers were trying to capture the entire scene, especially the Dark Mark and the sobbing girl who was huddled over her mother’s fallen form. Arthur Weasley was blocking them as much as he could. Ron was trying to comfort Hermione, and no one was paying any attention to the man who still had a chance at life. As soon as Harry was noticed the flashes doubled, and half a dozen curses flew at him.

With a negligent gesture they were deflected. He waved a hand through the air as he ran and the Dark Mark vanished. Dropping beside Mr. Granger, Harry enclosed them, Ron, Hermione, and Mrs. Granger in a privacy shield. He restrained Ron and Hermione invisibly, and continued to work.

Despite having never been trained, his hands seemed to know what they were doing, and Harry was not arguing. The same horrid guilt that he should have moved faster, that he could have helped the mother began to creep back into his mind, so he silenced it sharply. His former companions were watching him with hatred seeping from their eyes amid the tears.

Mr. Granger stirred again, more definitively than before.

Harry finished his work, summoned his things, and stood. “It was Ashanel. You’ll need to take him to Mungo’s immediately. I’m sorry about your mother. I wasn’t fast enough.”

He vanished.

>=====<

Charlie Weasley barely suppressed his shout. There was a stabbing pain in his side as a mark there burned black. He immediately left the long table at Grimauld and ran for his room. As the door flew open he summoned a vial and his clothing. The potion was quickly drained and the robes quickly donned. The mask was placed even as he disapparated, and he appeared at the meeting place with the others as if nothing was wrong.

He had luckily been alone at Headquarters. It was so much harder for him to get away when there were others he had to make excuses to.

The potion took effect just as the Dark Lord appeared. He bowed low, prostrating himself on the sooty ground. He was immediately approached, and his mind ripped apart by painful legilemency. The Dark Lord found nothing. “How did they react?” he hissed.

“The Mudblood has collapsed entirely, her assignment will not be completed for weeks at the earliest. Dumbledore is in shock. The Order is in chaos. The media is blaming Potter, and has the pictures to go with it. The Prophet is running a picture of Potter leaning over the bodies with the Dark Mark over his head.”

“Did he hear you?”

“Yes, but he didn’t recognize my voice, and he did not follow. He fell perfectly into your plan My Lord. Within a day he will be incapable of moving in the wizarding world without being watched.” Charlie was grinning cruelly beneath his mask, despite what he had to say next. “My Lord, there was one mistake made.” Voldemort turned, his eyes boiling with rage, and Charlie answered quickly. “Potter was able to save the Mudblood’s father. He was not dead when the boy arrived.”

Voldemort gave no sign before he began the Cruciatus curse. Charlie screamed, collapsing, and rolled in his efforts to escape the blinding, consuming pain. His punishments were regular; he had never attended a meeting and escaped unscathed. Finally, the Dark Lord tired of the screams and released the curse.

Charlie remained there, in too much pain to even whimper.

The Dark Lord had already moved on to Malfoy. Charlie recognized Draco’s voice, and forced his mind to listen.

“Potter’s success at saving anyone can only be attributed to luck, My Lord. He is a disgustingly untalented wizard.”

“The Mudblood’s project.” Voldemort did not deign to ask questions of his minions.

“Is delayed long enough for certain texts to be rewritten. We will target what she has done this far in two days with the next attack. She will never complete it once we are done.”

A coin in Charlie’s pocket heated, and he moaned. Voldemort turned to him. “My Lord, I am of no use to you if they know I am here.”

“Get out worm, return when you have information of any use.” After a few seconds under the Cruciatus, Charlie was permitted to Apparate away. His robes were stashed in his room, he drank a different vial of potion, and he popped into the meeting.

“Why are you late boy?” Moody shouted.

“I was in the loo.” Charlie answered, smiling.

“Alastor, we have more important things to address.” Dumbledore interjected. “The Grangers were attacked tonight. Our spies had no warning of it. We need to know why they were attacked, and how they were found. Their house was unplottable and warded. Mr. Granger is currently in Mungo’s, and will remain there for almost a month. Ms. Granger and Ronald are there now. The only reports we have state that Harry Potter attacked them. I am sorry, but I must ask you to work in spite of the holidays. Charlie, you will be in charge of this.”

“Yes sir.”

“Does anyone know anything more?”

Charlie shook his head.

>=====<

The rest of the meeting passed without incident, excluding Charlie’s constant memory pains and effort to maintain his Occulemency blocks. When he was allowed to leave, he stumbled to his room, ignoring his mother’s questions and face-planted into his bed. He was about to drift into peaceful slumber when three faint pops announced the arrival of his brothers.

Fred handed him a restorative draught, which he appreciated more than he could express, and after drinking it, Charlie was able to sit up.

“What did you learn tonight Charlie?”

“That I wish I’d let one of you be the spy.” He groaned as another memory pain hit him. “They’re going to destroy Hermione’s project: all of her research and her ability to do more. He wouldn’t let me help them on it. He wants me to keep reporting on the Order and maintaining that Harry is the bigger threat, which won’t be too hard since the world has gone mad.”

“Harry conjured the Dark Mark?” George asked.

“What?”

“The Prophet has a photo of Harry waving his hand and the Dark Mark appearing. It isn’t their cover, but it’s still there.”

“Bloody hell,” Charlie muttered, “They must have edited the shot. The images would have been close enough together that it would have looked…Dammit.”

“It’s not your fault mate.”

“I know.”

“Did the Legilemency block work?” Fred asked.

“Yeah,” Charlie muttered, “Both of them, not that Voldemort didn’t do his best to test it.”

“Concentrate on what we need to do.” Bill asserted, “Did you learn anything else?”

“One of the Death Eaters’ voices sounded familiar, but I can’t put a name to it yet. Hopefully a few,” he yawned, “a few days, will be enough for me to remember.”

“Try. Recognizing a voice isn’t enough.”

“There’s another attack planned. Two days. They’ll go after Hermione’s work then.” Charlie suppressed the yawn, “We’ll need to,” yawn, “have it all,” yawn, “duplicated by then.”

Bill frowned. “We’ll finish in the morning and then take the report to Harry at noon.”

“No we should finish now.”

Bill shook his head. “I’ll bring Harry the information of the attack, but you need to rest.” Charlie looked to Fred and George for help, and found none.

“Sorry mate—”

“—but you are working —”

“—on three sides, of this—”

“—war, and you need to get—”

“—your—”

“—beauty—”

“—sleep.”

“We’re just glad that in the end you’re on our side.” Bill interrupted. “Now sleep.” Charlie had no qualms about obeying his older brother.

>====<

HARRY POTTER KILLS GRANGERS!

In an appalling event, Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived and traitor attacked the parents of his one-time friend Hermione Granger last night, just two days before Christmas. Mrs. Granger lost her life to this horrendous and despicable man, but Mr. Granger managed to escape with his life despite a final attempt to kill him by Potter. This second attempt was caught on camera when Daily Prophet reporters put their own lives at risk and traveled to the scene of the crime.

Potter illegally Apparated into the area, and hid himself from view along with former companions Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger before vanishing. Soon after, Mr. Granger began to recover, though he is currently recovering at St. Mungo’s.

Neither Ronald Weasley nor Hermione Granger have released statements, but Albus Dumbledore has stated that, “This action will no longer be tolerated. We will not sit blithely by while a traitor is allowed to destroy what little peace we have and interfere with our hope for victory.” Minister Fudge released a concurring statement, and vowed to stop Potter’s actions.

POTTER INFILTRATES MINISTRY AND MUNGO’S!

Harry James Potter, Boy-Who-Lived, and traitor entered the Ministry of Magic early this morning. He traveled to the Hall of Records and took with him innumerable files. Authorities have announced that surveillance never saw him, nor did he harm any Ministry workers. However, he left a note in the Hall of Records, (the contents remain classified) and waved goodbye as he left. Several aurors attempted to capture the traitor, but he managed to escape. The Ministry was luckily nearly uninhabited today, thanks to the hour and that today is Christmas Day.

A few minutes after Potter left the Ministry, St. Mungo’s announced that there had been a break-in. As he had at the Ministry, he was not seen until he was leaving. Officials are not yet sure his reasoning for entering Mungo’s, but have promised not to rest until they know. The Magical world must now ask itself just how safe we really are.

MINISTRY ANNOUNCES AMENDMENT TO TRAITOR ACT

As much of the Wizarding world expected, and hoped, today a new clause was added to the Traitor by Association Act. The amendment adds to Article One, section One, and Article Two, section Five. It expands the definition of a traitorous act to include anything which goes against the Ministry’s goals, and eliminates the laxity in punishment of underage offenders. It opens the possibility of life in Azkaban, and the Dementor’s kiss.

The Amendment has been met with widespread support and it is expected that a second amendment will be announced within the next month.