Blood-Soaked Succession Chapter 35 (Patreon)

Chapter 35:

XXX

Harry sat patiently as Hermione finished explaining Azkaban's sinking.

Only his inner circle had gathered for the debrief. Hermione sat near the middle of what had become their temporary meeting room table with Ron, Wormtail and Draco nearby. The shades occupied whatever portions of the chamber struck their fancy. James and Lily, still with their temporary bodies, remained together near one of the windows, Sirius and Regulus floated opposite them and Lucius had naturally positioned himself close to Draco.

Dumbledore and Grindelwald were on opposite ends of the chamber. The latter was glaring at the ceiling and the former had his arms crossed and eyes closed. Had something happened while he was gone?

Hermione ignored them and finished describing the retreat, from the first black hands emerging through the cracks to the final sight of Azkaban collapsing into a writhing mass of tendrils and disappearing beneath the ocean.

"We stayed long enough to make certain it wasn't going to come back up, and when nothing happened after several minutes, we left."

Harry considered everything he'd heard. It certainly wasn't what he'd intended when he'd sent them there. Azkaban would have been useful territory to hold. Voldemort would either have to abandon one of the Ministry's most important installations or continue wasting people and resources retaking an island containing absolutely nothing Harry wanted.

Instead, there wasn't an Azkaban anymore.

Still, Harry couldn't find much reason to complain when Hermione had just spent the better part of twenty minutes describing a battle against the Department of Time followed by the island itself trying to murder everyone standing on it. It had been an entertaining yarn.

"I think Regulus had the right idea," Harry finally decided. "We didn't get the island, which is disappointing, but Voldemort can't use Azkaban either, and we didn't lose a single life."

"Several of us lost bodies," Lucius pointed out.

"Easily replaceable," said Peter.

Harry sat and mentally compared the result with everything else they'd accomplished that day.

"I'd give Azkaban a C-plus. Almost a B. We accomplished the important objectives, accidentally destroyed a major enemy installation and everyone came home, but losing the island itself costs us points."

"What is that, like an Acceptable?" asked James.

"Hey! It's a passing grade," Sirius said.

"Underachievers," Lily accused the two.

Harry dragged himself to his feet and crossed the room towards the enormous map they'd hung along one wall. Europe and Asia had been covered in pins, handwritten notes and little scraps of parchment marking everything from known Ministry positions to suspected Death Eater movements. There was also a blown up section for the British Isles.

He took a green pin from the box beneath it and pushed it into the patch of ocean where Azkaban had formerly stood. The place was unplottable anyways, but he put the pin in its general location.

Three green markers now stood out prominently. Nurmengard had one, as did Durmstrang farther north. London kept a conspicuous red mark for St Mungos while Diagon Alley and the Ministry of Magic remained black.

Harry stepped back to examine the day's work.

"Could be worse."

"Considerably," Grindelwald agreed from somewhere behind him. "Although you're wasting an opportunity with Azkaban."

Harry glanced over one shoulder. Grindelwald had finally stopped glaring at the ceiling long enough to re-enter the conversation.

"What opportunity?"

"You can turn its destruction into a considerably greater victory with a little public relations work."

Harry chuckled at the naked Machiavellianism.

"What kind of propaganda did you have in mind?"

"Propaganda?" Grindelwald sounded almost offended. "Nothing of the sort. Just a little spin."

That distinction coming from Gellert Grindelwald did absolutely nothing to reassure Harry.

"We simply claim responsibility for destroying Azkaban, which isn't even a lie. Your people attacked the island, the battle caused sufficient damage to awaken whatever abomination Ekrizdis left beneath it and now the prison is at the bottom of the North Sea. Therefore Harry Potter's forces destroyed Azkaban."

Ekrizdis. Another name that failed with the Resurrection Stone. Probably an alias to his real name as Voldemort was to Tom Riddle.

Hermione opened her mouth, thought about it and apparently couldn't find anything technically incorrect with that statement.

"Then," Grindelwald continued, "you give a nice speech about what Azkaban represented. Generations of prisoners condemned to torture by Dementors, many without trials worthy of the name, an institution so barbaric! Yadda yadda, tearjerker story about your godfather, blehg! Its destruction is a victory for every witch and wizard in Britain and proof that you're dismantling the cruelties of the old order while fighting Voldemort's new one."

Harry stared at him for several seconds. The baby talk voice he used to say it all reminded him way too much of Bellatrix.

Harry looked back towards the green pin marking the empty ocean. There really wasn't much downside. Azkaban was gone regardless, and letting the public imagine its destruction had been deliberate was considerably more useful than announcing that his forces had accidentally awakened the island and barely escaped before it ate itself.

"All right. There's merit to it, but how do we actually get the story out? The Quibbler was shut down and I don't know of another newspaper sympathetic enough to print something directly from us."

Rita Skeeter briefly entered his thoughts. Harry removed the woman from his mind with some anger management occlumency exercises. Sure he was much more capable of blackmailing or bribing her to do what he wanted now than ever. Didn't mean he wanted to suffer her presence.

"The Quibbler isn't shut down," Hermione corrected, bringing Harry back out of his thoughts. "It reopened months ago. Xenophilius started publishing again quietly. Officially it's pro-Voldemort now, or at least sufficiently supportive that the Ministry permits it to circulate. Most of the articles are the same sort of nonsense he always published, except he's been hiding intelligence for us throughout the paper."

Ron grinned from his chair.

"He sends us the cipher on the Galleons every day. Makes the crossword puzzles way more interesting."

Nobody had thought to mention that to him. Then again, he'd apparently been receiving the information extracted from it anyway, so he supposed somebody had been doing their job.

"Perfect."

He crossed to the chalkboard occupying another wall, picked up a piece of chalk and found an open space beneath the steadily growing collection of things requiring his attention.

'Get Quibbler to Print Story on Azkaban.'

Harry underlined it once before stepping aside to examine the rest of the list.

There was considerably more chalk than board remaining.

With everyone effectively grounded for the immediate future, most of the items they'd accumulated were considerably less exciting than the operations they'd just completed. There would be no more assassinations or large-scale assaults until Voldemort retaliated and they had enough new intelligence to decide what to do next.

His forces needed time to recover, Durmstrang and Nurmengard needed to be consolidated and there were enough problems already demanding their attention without creating new ones.

Near the top of the board was 'Refit Durmstrang and Nurmengard for Long Siege', which was already well underway and might be finished before Monday.

Beneath that sat 'Find Number 12', likewise already in progress. Most of their currently disembodied shades had been scattered across the UK countryside searching anywhere Grimmauld Place might conceivably have gone. They were joined by Harry's other self from the Snitch, who had thankfully figured out how to stop possessing Jessica before leaving.

The next entry was considerably less pleasant.

'Locate Luna > Rescue her and Longbottoms.'

Harry lingered on that one before moving farther down.

'Compile Intel on Unspeakables: Abilities, Identities, Combat Strategies.'

"That one," Harry said, tapping the chalk against the board. "How long until that's done?"

"We can probably knock it out before the weekend is over," Draco answered. "We already have everyone's reports from Durmstrang, or at least everyone conscious enough to give one."

Harry scowled.

They hadn't lost anyone at Durmstrang, which he was extremely pleased about. The fortress had been surprisingly lightly defended outside of Rookwood and his two assistants. Unfortunately, nearly Dudley's entire team had ended the operation hospitalized. That alone would have justified suspending further offensive missions.

"I can give you a fairly detailed report on Death," Harry said as he turned towards Hermione. "Obviously leave out the parts about how I knew he was there. In fact, do not share that we know where each one is located. We don't want the enemy to know we know that."

Hermione nodded.

"I'll get everyone's account of Azkaban."

"Actually, can I borrow your memory of the fight?"

She gave him a questioning look.

Harry gestured vaguely towards her forehead.

"The fight with the Head of Time. I want to see him. We might be able to identify him from his body. I may spot some birthmark or tattoo."

"With what? We don't have a Pensieve."

"You absolutely have a Pensieve," Dumbledore corrected. "I gave mine to Aberforth upon my death. I'm quite certain he would be willing to lend it to us."

Ron audibly gasped.

"We could use that for everything!" Ron leaned forward, suddenly considerably more interested in the meeting. "Why give everyone reports about the Unspeakables when we can show them? Put the memories in the Pensieve and let everyone watch the fights themselves. They'd see what the Unspeakables actually do, how they cast, what their magic looks like and what worked against them."

Harry lowered the chalk. That was considerably better than another collection of reports for people to read.

Hermione was already shaking her head.

"Not mine. Absolutely not. Half the people fighting beside me at Azkaban were dead, and several were possessing bodies. We can't show memories containing shades or anything else Voldemort doesn't know about."

"Right," Harry agreed.

That eliminated most of Azkaban, but not the idea.

Harry looked around the room as he considered what memories they could safely use. His own fight with Death contained nothing particularly compromising beyond abilities Voldemort already knew Harry possessed. Prophecy might be even better. Ten people had fought Rookwood and his assistants from different positions around the courtyard, which meant they had ten different perspectives on the same engagement.

"Mine against Death," Harry decided. "Then Durmstrang. Get memories from everyone who fought Rookwood and make a composite of the useful parts. Different angles, what each person saw, anything they noticed about the mist or how those three reacted before attacks. We can turn the whole thing into observational training."

Ron looked extremely pleased with himself.

Harry turned back towards the chalkboard and added another line beneath the Unspeakable reports.

'Pensieve Training?'

Hermione waited until Harry finished writing before drawing his attention back towards the earlier entries on the board.

"We need to tell Cho and the Creeveys about Number Twelve."

Harry almost asked why. Then he remembered who else had been living there.

Right. Dennis and Colin's younger brother Eric had been among the residents, along with Cho's younger sister. Most of the people Harry had moved into Grimmauld Place weren't fighters at all. The Bulstrodes, Jessica and several others had been there precisely because Number Twelve was supposed to be a safe house, somewhere far removed from the increasingly dangerous work being done elsewhere.

Harry rubbed his forehead.

"I'd really prefer nobody else knew we'd managed to lose an entire house."

"Those three deserve to know," Lily told him.

"I know."

Worse, Cho and the Creeveys were still active members of his forces without any other duties. Keeping them ignorant while dozens of other people searched for their missing siblings meant deliberately refusing three additional people who had every reason in the world to help.

Harry picked up the chalk again and amended the relevant entry.

"Tell them and add them to the search."

That left another problem Harry had been deliberately avoiding since his other self told him what happened.

"What about Perenelle? How exactly do we contact her and explain that we can't deliver what we promised?"

Dumbledore finally opened his eyes.

"If Perenelle is sufficiently upset with us, I imagine she will return to Nurmengard herself to express that displeasure."

That was not remotely the answer he'd wanted. Unfortunately, it was probably the correct one.

"Fine."

He stepped away from the chalkboard and looked around the room. There was little more they could accomplish by continuing to talk about the problems, and everyone had work waiting for them.

"Wormtail, go to Durmstrang and see what bodies they recovered. Prepare anything useful for possession before they start decomposing. Hermione, Draco, Ron, you're coming with me back to Kazakhstan. We'll start assembling the Unspeakable reports and arrange to get Dumbledore's Pensieve from Aberforth."

Peter nodded and disappeared towards the door while Harry turned towards his parents.

"Mom, Dad, check the safe houses around Britain. Tell everyone to keep their eyes and ears open for Luna and anyone missing from Number Twelve. Sirius, Regulus, Lucius, I want you searching the most likely places Luna could have been taken. I would start with St Mungo's, the Ministry and Hogwarts respectively. Don't engage anyone and don't possess anybody unless you absolutely have to. Just find her."

The room gradually emptied as everyone separated to carry out their assignments. Draco, Wormtail, Hermione and Ron headed towards the exit to wait for Harry, while the shades disappeared through the nearest wall rather than bothering with the door. James and Lily followed the others towards the entrance since they had to be beyond Nurmengard's wards to activate their portkeys.

Harry had nearly followed when Dumbledore called after him.

"Harry."

He stopped.

Dumbledore hadn't moved from his side of the chamber. Neither had Grindelwald.

Harry looked between them before gesturing for Hermione and Ron to continue without him. Within another few moments the three of them were alone.

"I would prefer another assignment," Dumbledore said.

Harry glanced towards Grindelwald.

"Why?"

"Because I no longer wish to remain here with him."

Grindelwald rolled his eyes towards the ceiling again.

Harry considered asking what had happened between them while he was gone. Whatever argument they'd had was clearly none of his business, however, and learning the details would probably only make him responsible for mediating it.

"No."

Dumbledore looked surprised by his flat refusal.

"I need both of you here. Voldemort is going to try retaking Nurmengard eventually, and when he does I want the two of you defending it."

Grindelwald laughed.

"Oh, I see," he said. "An important fortress captured this morning and defended afterward by two men. Voldemort sends a force to retake it, they fail, and suddenly everyone begins spreading rumors about how strong your forces are that two are enough to repel anything they can throw."

Harry nodded. That was exactly the point.

The psychological value alone was worth it. Voldemort's forces didn't need to know the two defenders were Albus Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald. They only needed to repeatedly encounter two unidentified wizards powerful enough to make Nurmengard effectively untouchable. Rumors would do the rest.

There was also the less flattering reason Harry wanted them here. They were Albus Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald. Between the two Harry wasn't sure who he trusted less to not meddle. He wasn't stupid enough to forget what either man had been capable of while alive. Keeping both isolated in a fortress far from the action suited him perfectly well.

Dumbledore looked unconvinced.

Harry sighed. It was time to pull out the big gun.

"He died protecting you." Harry said, nodding towards Grindelwald.

The room became very quiet.

"He lied to Voldemort to stop him from robbing your grave, and it cost him his life."

Grindelwald's expression changed in a way Harry couldn't decipher. Dumbledore slowly turned towards him. Whatever passed across his face was equally impossible to read.

"How could you possibly know that?" Grindelwald asked.

"I was watching through Voldemort when he did it."

Harry tapped the scar upon his forehead.

"You two either work out your issues or stay on opposite sides of the castle. I don't particularly care which. If you want better company, write down a few names of dead people and I'll see who I can bring back to spend time with you."

He had enough problems without adding a century of lovers' quarrels. Straight or gay.

Harry left Dumbledore and Grindelwald to whatever painfully overdue conversation they were about to have and caught up with Ron and Hermione near Nurmengard's entrance. Lily, James, Wormtail and Draco were already gone.

"Change of plans. Malfoy Manor first."

Hermione stopped with one hand already reaching for the Portkey that would take them back to Kazakhstan.

"Why?"

"We need to tell Cho about Jun. I'd rather she hear about Number Twelve from us before we send her out looking for it."

Hermione nodded and exchanged one Portkey for another. She and Ron donned their masks as Harry took hold. The familiar pull caught somewhere behind his navel before Nurmengard disappeared.

They landed upon the grassy hillside near Dartmoor.

The wrought-iron gates appeared before them as they landed and swung inward to permit their passage. Harry crossed between them with Ron and Hermione close behind, watching the concealment charms peel away until Malfoy Manor and its surrounding grounds returned to view.

He made it several steps into the courtyard before stopping.

Millicent Bulstrode was standing near the manor with her mother beside her and Cresspool fretting over them both. They were visibly alive.

-

Sorry for posting so late. Had to take my grandmothers dog, Luna, to get euthanized. No I didn't name her.