Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

Minerva clutched at the table. "Albus? Oh Merlin." She swayed and would've fallen except for Snape's quick reflexes. He settled her into a chair and brought her a cup of tea and one for himself. Then he sat next to her, offering her the comfort of his presence and his gentle grip on her hands.

"But... but... Sirius is dead! I saw him die!" Harry repeated for the fifteenth time. He stared at the board, at the now-smeared letters that spelled out his godfather's name. Hermione pulled him into a fierce hug as he fell into a chair, his shoulders shaking. Bill Weasley, the least affected of them all, followed Severus' lead and brought two cups over to Harry and Hermione.

Predictably, Hermione recovered first. She unwound herself from her friend and drank her tea with a quick nod of thanks to Bill. He jerked his head toward the other end of the room, and she joined him there, though her eyes flickered toward Harry every few seconds.

"You don't think this is some kind of joke, do you?" Bill asked. "Those are about the only two names that would reduce Harry and Minerva to tears."

"A joke? A hoax? I don't think so. What I don't understand is how or why."

"Maybe there's some significance to the numbers that I missed? I assumed they were just for spacing out longer names."

Hermione patted his arm. "The spacing works out too well, Bill. The numbers are just filler. This has got to be the right solution."

"I wonder," Bill said thoughtfully. "These puzzles... the notes... the lack of wards..."

"What?"

"Aberon McGaven – he had to know Dumbledore. Everyone did. So – if he Soulstruck him, then..."

"Maybe Fudge was blackmailing him? Threatening him?"

"And maybe McGaven set things up so that it would be possible to untangle what was going on..."

"McGaven knew about the Order. He probably figured that someone would come looking for Albus eventually."

"You're basing your statements on the supposition that McGaven is not working with Fudge," Severus' voice drifted over to them.

"You're right, Severus," Hermione said as she and Bill returned to the table. Harry had gulped down his tea and was now just staring off into space. Minerva had aged a dozen years in moments, and had her face buried in her hands. Snape had an arm around her shoulders, but he was obviously already thinking past whatever he was feeling.

Damn him, Hermione thought. Doesn't he know he's making me jealous? She shot a glare at the back of his head, then ran her hands through her hair wearily. Jealous of Minerva? Granger, you have GOT to get a grip. Maybe YOU should take some of that Heliax.

"This third puzzle may be a key then," Bill said.

"I thought it was an anagram of some kind," Harry turned to face them, his eyes dark with grief and anger. "But I hadn't gotten very far with it." He lapsed back into that mindless staring into space.

Hermione looked at the puzzle again. It was only one line of letters.

INIITP MONNEA PTVKNG OEI TE RSS H T I A B N L T E

"I wonder..." Not bothering to use magic, she grabbed a blank piece of parchment and began writing, using block letters and being careful to line up the columns as she wished.

INIITP

MONNEA

PTVKNG

OEI TE

RSS H T I A B N L T E

"Oh my..." She continued writing. A moment later, she looked up.

INIITP

MONNEA

PTVKNG

OEI TE

RSS H

T I

A B

N L

T E

"I think I've got it." She didn't shout, but the words were enough to bring all of them to her side, even Minerva still sniffling intermittently.

"Important notes invisible ink tenth page," Bill said. "Incredible."

"Severus gave me the idea – with the solution to the other puzzle."

"Tenth page of what?" Harry asked.

"I'll be right back!" Hermione dashed off.

"So where'd she go?" Bill demanded of no one in particular.

"McGaven's notes," Severus said. "I'd bet my next paycheck – if I were employed – that she's gone to fetch McGaven's notes and will come back asking if anyone knows a charm to reveal hidden writing."

Harry snorted. "I don't think a charm will show anything."

"Why not," Minerva asked. "A simple Finite Incantatem will lift most concealment charms."

"Aberon likes Muggle books, and Muggle codes. What's to stop him from using a purely Muggle form of invisible ink?"

"Is there such a thing?" Bill barely beat Severus to the question. "A non-magic form of invisible ink?"

"Yes, there's actually two that are easily available. Lemon juice and," Harry flushed painfully, "urine. When they dry they become invisible until exposed to heat."

"Mr. Potter, do I want to know how you know about these things?" Severus asked.

"A Muggle book, actually, Professor. It was a spy novel."

"What was?" Hermioine asked as she reentered the room, her arms laden with McGaven's notes. "And does anyone know of a good charm for making hidden writing show up?"

Severus chuckled, and Harry shrugged. "It was a discussion on invisible ink, Hermione."

It was soon obvious that "tenth page" was less than specific. Finally, they divided the stacks of notes into five piles and went through every page individually searching for the invisible writing. Two hours later, they were finished – unsuccessfully.

"Well damn," Bill said. "I had hoped it would be easy."

"You've been very fortunate so far," Minerva reminded them. "If the Ministry was still warded with Anti-Apparation spells, you'd still be searching for these notes."

"Merlin's bones! Minerva, you're a genius!" Harry shouted. "These are copies of the notes! We need the original pages!" He grabbed his cloak. "I'll go get them and put the copies in their place."

"You're not going alone," Hermione said. "I'm going with you."

Harry picked up the notes. "No you're not." He swung the cloak over his shoulders and left, the soft pattering of his footsteps marking his path.

"Mr. Potter has the right of it," Severus said slowly. "It will be faster for him to go alone."

"But he might get caught!" She stood up. "I'm going after him."

Severus reached out a long arm and plucked her wand from her hand. "Better one gets caught than all. Let me remind you of what you said to me earlier: there is more at stake here than you or me or any individual wizard."

Their eyes met and Hermione felt her objections melting away. A niggling little voice in the back of her head reminded her that it would be much nicer to stay here with Severus. She told the little voice to shut up.

And so they waited. Every few minutes, someone would take a deep breath as if to say something and then simply let it out again. Or there would be the sound of throat clearing, heralding the beginnings of a sentence but no sentence followed. Hermione looked at her watch; it seemed to be stuck, for it hadn't moved noticeably in the last however long it had been since she'd looked at it. She shot Severus a dirty look where he sat, still holding her wand.

"This is ridiculous," Minerva finally said into the smothering silence. "Mr. Potter is an accomplished wizard. We should be making plans to... to do something!"

"What can we assume?" Severus asked. "Let us assume that Fudge is indeed responsible for Albus' Soulstriking, and that he is held prisoner somewhere. What then?"

"That will be sufficient reason to call the entire Order back," Bill said firmly. "Half the reason that it splintered after the war is because no one could agree on who would be in charge."

"So that gives us who – in addition to the five of us?"

"Tonks, Moody, and Kingsley for starters." Hermione said.

"My family." Bill's eyes were stormy. "Dad was really angry with Mum for restoring Percy. But he'll come around for Albus. So me, George, Ron, Ginny, Mum and Dad."

Slowly, carefully, Severus asked, "Not Percy?"

An eloquent shrug. "I don't know, Professor. I love him; he's my brother. But I don't think I trust him yet."

Minerva put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I think we should leave him out of our plans then, though someone will have to keep watch on him."

"We shouldn't make firm plans until Harry gets back," Hermione said. "But we've got what – thirteen of us to storm the Ministry? That's not going to work very well."

"Stealth and guile, not overt force," Severus replied. "The same principles that you used to break into the Ministry - twice."

"Obviously parental love is sufficient to break a Soulstriking," Minerva mused while Hermione glared at Severus. "We should assume that filial love is also." When the other three gave her looks of non-comprehension, she sighed. "Harry is the obvious one to break the spell for Sirius. But Albus – that will have to be you, Severus, or me."

"A good thing for us that Aberon didn't restrict love to the romantic type," Bill said. "That would make things considerably more difficult."

The sound of footsteps in the corridor silenced them. A moment later the door opened and Harry came in carrying a large box. He kicked the door shut behind him and put the box on the table with a sigh of relief. "Nothing's changed at the Ministry, but the Aurors got into a disagreement about the rules for their game. I had to wait till they resolved it." He tapped the box wearily. "Here are the notes. I also used an All-Seeing Eye spell, and found a Muggle loose-leaf notebook taped to the underside of one of the shelves."

"And you brought it along also?" Hermione asked.

"Any tea left?" Harry sat down. "Yes, I brought the original with me. There's an invisible duplicate – transfigured out of an ordinary beaker – in its place."

Bill brought him a cup of tea. "You sit and recover, Harry. We'll take a look at this."

"Nice work, Mr. Potter," Severus said.

Hermione emptied the box onto the table. "Here's the original notes. Here's the notebook."

"Bill and I will look over the notes for the invisible ink – and anything else that might be useful," Minerva decided.

"So Her... Miss Granger and I will look through this notebook." Severus picked it up and opened it at random, then began flipping through the pages. "It's empty."

"Invisible ink, remember?" Hermione reached for her wand and then rolled her eyes. "I need my wand back, Severus." The moment he returned it, she snatched a teacup and charmed it to emit heat. "Hold it next to that with the pages fanned out so they all get the heat."

"How long does this usually take?"

"Not long," Harry replied. The tea was beginning to revive him. "No more than ten minutes. God, I have got to get back in shape! All that spell-casting wiped me out." He stretched tremendously. "Any luck yet?"

"The edges of the pages are turning brown, but I expect that's not quite what we're looking for," Severus replied dryly.

"Eeek! No – maybe we should take the pages out of the notebook and heat them separately." Hermione took the notebook away from him. "Here." She opened the rings. "Keep them in order, if you can." She handed him the first two pages. "Give those a few more minutes, and then if you don't see anything, try the next two."

"And what will you be doing," he muttered to himself as he did her bidding. "Cozying up to Potter again?" He watched as she crossed over to where Harry was sitting, and leaned on the table chatting with him quietly. A wave of quiet rage swept over him, and it took him several moments to recognize it as jealousy.

The feeling was forgotten as letters began to appear on the pages he held out to the charmed teacup. Letters, then words, then sentences and paragraphs slowly appearing in dark brown against the flimsy white notebook paper. "I've got something," he said triumphantly. "Look!"

They crowded around, looking at the first pages while he took the next two and began exposing them to the heat.

"When one has much to say of questionable nature, one takes various odd actions which may save one's life at some indefinable point in the future. After these recent events, I feel I must take measures. I am not irreplaceable, and I know it well. So I revert to the tricks of my Muggle-born childhood friends. It is all too ironic that children's games befuddle adult wizards.

"So – Soulstriking. A good idea at the time, I thought. I've always enjoyed modifying spells to suit my own purposes. It's perhaps a little tedious, but there's a beauty in creating something entirely new out of something old and forgotten. No one remembers the battles hundreds of years ago, where the House Elves were forced to submit. Most wizards don't even know they're geased to serve. Most elves probably don't even know it these days; it's been long enough now that the ones who actually remember the war are dead as are the first of their children."

Bill stopped reading. "Interesting background, but hardly important. Let me have the next two pages."

"...have set up my own lab in the Ministry where I can actually perform the spell. Of course, the Minister says he will have his guards force the prisoners to drink the potion for me. I wish I'd had more time to do research – I was close to doing away with the potion entirely. I will begin with my experiments tomorrow.

"Disaster! The jar I was using was cracked and exploded during the transfer process. I will have to be sure to reinforce the protective spells on them before doing the transfer. One less Death Eater to worry about, though. The body did not survive the experience.

"The Minister wasn't at all upset. He urged me to complete my research, my work. The Aurors have captured many Death Eaters, and it is fitting that they be used to refine the spells that will put an end to them forever."

"The rest of this is just more of the same." Bill snagged another teacup and charmed it for himself. "The more, the merrier." He picked up the next pages and began warming them. "I'm guessing that if Aberon said tenth page, he meant tenth page."

"But what he considered important might not be everything we need to know," Harry objected. "We really need to go over everything."

"You're right," Hermione said, handing him the four pages that Bill had already skimmed. "Here. Oh, and number them, would you?"

"We're not returning them?" Bill asked. Then he looked at the pages he held. "I guess we can't, now that we've revealed the writing."

"True enough," Harry replied, as he printed careful block numbers in the upper right corner of each page. As each page was done, he blew gently across the ink to dry it, then set it aside. "We shouldn't number them until after the writing's exposed – we don't want to write over it."

Severus put down the quill he'd just picked up. "An excellent point, Mr. Potter."

"Let's be sensible here," Minerva interjected, coming over to join them. "Two of us can hold the pages up to the heat. One can put the numbers on them after the writing shows up, and the last two can do the first read-through."

"Gryffindors," Severus muttered. "Always having to take charge." He ignored the glare, raised eyebrow, snort, and snicker from his four compatriots.

"For your sins, you get to do the first read-through with Hermione," Harry said with a wicked grin." He handed Severus the pages. "These are already done. Have fun."

"Mr. Potter, you may do the numbering, as your penmanship is better than mine and far better than what I remember of Mr. Weasley's." Minerva said primly.

"So you and I get the scut work, eh?" Bill gave Minerva a grin. "Harry, here's page five and six for you."

Hermione took the first four pages and settled down in the nearest chair. Severus sat next to her and she began reading aloud.

"... first successful Soulstriking today! Lawrence Nott will never cast another Unforgivable Curse again! The Minister was very pleased, and we had dinner together at his manor. He's a very curious man – had a lot of questions about the Soulstriking process. He wanted to know if it was possible to separate out the parts of the Soul that control magic – if they could be removed entirely, then the remainder of the Soul could be restored. Of course a person subjected to that would be a Squib – but that's more humane than execution."

Severus snorted softly. "How can he think that?"

"He has no idea what it's like to live without his magic. He probably doesn't know any Squibs. Here," Hermione handed him the pages. "You read for a while." Harry skittered another four sheets across the table to her, and she took them with a nod of thanks in his direction.

"...success rate is now about one in three. Fudge says he would like it to be better, but he's not trying to push me. He's concerned about sentencing an innocent man, and he's right. I'll have to work on it.

"It's a problem with the potion, not the spell. The Soulstriking works properly, but the body doesn't survive. If the spell were at fault, the Souljar would shatter. Fudge has collected the Souljars for the failures. He doesn't want them taking up space in my lab. He's asked me to dinner tomorrow night."

Hermione handed Severus the next set of pages. "What on earth would Fudge want with their Souljars?"

"I don't know." He drained his tea and set the cup back down.

"I got quite a shock today when I went into my lab. Lucius Malfoy! I had no idea! He always seemed so respectable! I'm rather glad the Soulstriking worked; if he's truly innocent, he can be restored. He was my tenth success. I've begun making a record – just in case.

"I've been thinking about what Minister Fudge said about removing magic from the Souljar. It should be fairly easy to do – a modification of the Soulstriking spell. I think I'll work it all out, and tell him at Christmas – it'll be a surprise! He's been working very hard lately; I do hope he's not sick."

"Some surprise," Severus grumbled.

"Hush." There was a beat, a pause, before Hermione continued, "I didn't mean quit reading! Honestly, Severus!" Their eyes met for a thousand-year moment until he turned back to the pages in his lap.

"I believe I've determined how to extract the magic essence from one Souljar and add it to another one. I'll need to do some experimenting, of course, but I've no lack of test subjects. I've also solved the problem with the potion! I need to be a little more consistent in how finely I chop the jacamar feathers. They're awfully tough, so I need to make sure my knife is freshly sharpened!"

"What dunderhead taught McGaven potions?" Severus grumbled. "Even Longbottom knew that by the end of his first year." Before Hermione could respond with the name and complete C.V. of McGaven's teacher, he continued reading.

"Three Soulstrikings today! I'm almost too exhausted to write this. Wetherby Stebbins, Rastaban LeStrange, and Zachariah Wilkes. All successful! I'm positive now that the process is foolproof! Sent an owl off to the Minister and let him know. Not an hour later, he stopped by and offered to buy me a drink. How flattering! He had a new question for me also – he asked if it was possible to put a Soul into a different body. I asked him why on earth anyone would want to do that. He said if someone was wrongfully convicted, but their body had been damaged (MacNair's comes to mind), that it would be something to offer. Where do you get a body without a Soul though? That's obvious once you think about it – you restore it into another body that's been Soulstruck.

"The Minister is really looking unwell. I've heard a rumor that he's using a Glamour when he has to make public appearances. He only drank water tonight. I didn't want to say anything, but I think he needs to see a good mediwitch."

"Seven pages, Hermione. Bits and pieces of clues on all of them." He looked up as Harry handed him a stack of papers. "Thank you, Mr. Potter."

"That's the last of them, Professor. Please go on."

"I've been too busy these last few days to write in my journal. There was an extended sweep and several arrests – I've had a lot of work to do. It gave me a bad turn to see Arthur's son in my lab. But he was convicted. I wouldn't do this otherwise. That Bulgarian Quidditch player – he was another surprise. He was probably using the Dark Arts to help Bulgaria win their matches. There's rumor that they'll have to forfeit all their games for the rest of the season.

"The Minister stopped by again, late in the day. He says he has a special project that he wants me to work on when this work is done – oh yes! I almost forgot to mention it! There are less than ten Death Eaters remaining in prison, and their trials are scheduled for this week. I won't be sorry to put this behind me, but I know I've made the world a better, safer place. Poor Minister Fudge – he looks dreadfully ill – thin and papery.

"I have done some more experimenting, and I've successfully transferred magic essence from one Souljar to another. I chose Nott as the donor because he wasn't a powerful wizard, and I wanted to be careful. I added it to Lucius Malfoy's jar. I still can't believe he was a Death Eater! If he's ever restored, the extra magic will be some form of reparation.

"I took great pride in my work today! The Minister came and watched – he hasn't done that before. But then, today was the day I Soulstruck one of the worst of the lot! He was a traitor – he's the one who was responsible for getting Albus Dumbledore killed! Good riddance, Severus Snape!"

Severus put the papers down on the table with shaking hands. "Someone else had best finish reading this. I might shred these pages into little pieces if I continue."

Hermione put a hand on his arm. "It's all right, Severus. We don't believe it. We know the truth."

Minerva picked up the discarded pages. "I'll continue. I'm getting the feeling that time is essential." She cleared her throat and began.

"The last of the Death Eaters has been Soulstruck! There are thirty-four of them, all lined up in blue Souljars on my lab bench. I've got half a dozen jars left. I was going to throw them out, but the Minister says that I should keep them – that he might sentence other criminals to be Soulstruck one day – but only the very worst.

"He also asked me if I could teach another wizard how to do Soulstriking. I hated to disappoint him – it can't be done. I've tied too much of myself into the casting of the spell, so only I can do it. When I designed the spell, I didn't want it falling into the wrong hands. I did build in a fail-safe though – any powerful wizard can break the spell under the right circumstances.

"I'm getting a bit nervous these days. Maybe it's my imagination, but the Minister seems distracted, as if he has something on his mind. He gave me such a look when I told him I couldn't teach anyone else – it startled me. It scared me. It made me feel like I was a rabbit and he was a hunting hawk. I'm glad I've been keeping this journal in invisible ink. This evening, I went through and made some additions and changes to my notes. More childish puzzles, and probably not necessary. But..."

Minerva stopped for a moment and sipped at her now-cold tea as she turned to the tenth page of the notebook.

"Merlin help me, this has gone beyond all reason and I cannot stop it. I don't know what to do!

"Fudge came to see me today while I was straightening out my lab. He reminded me of the new project he'd mentioned a few weeks ago. He took me into a part of the Ministry where I'd never been, down to the lowest sub basement. He had a lab set up there, much like my old one, but bigger and all-new equipment.

"Then we sat down to talk – and he told me what he wanted me to do.

"He's dying. Cancer – a Muggle disease. It's rare for wizards to contract such things, but it does happen. Neither Muggle technology nor wizard magic can do anything about it. And he doesn't want to die – and so he has decided to live.

"He had two more prisoners, he told me. Special prisoners, and both powerful wizards. He wants me to use the Soulstriking process to transfer his Soul into one body, and then transfer the magic of the other to him in his new body. I thought he was joking and then he gave me that hawk-look again, and told me I didn't have any choice.

"He's kept records. There were forty-two Death Eaters that died during my experiments. I had no idea it was that many. He will bring forty-two charges of murder against me if I don't help him, and he will personally make sure I am given to the Dementors.

"Merlin help me! I am such a fool! And a coward! I agreed. Before I realized what he was doing, he put a Compulsar Hex on me. I don't have to do what he says, but every time I disobey, pain wracks through my arms and legs. It gets progressively worse. He has told me not to tell anyone of this, and I won't. But the Hex is specific, so I am recording it in my journal.

"So, he brought in the first prisoner, and I thought I was dreaming. Sirius Black was supposed to be dead! Fudge laughed at me and told me to do my job. I had to obey him. While I worked, he told me that Dementors can pass through the Veil without harm, and bring things back. He'd originally meant to release Black and get Harry Potter's eternal gratitude – but then he learned he was mortally sick... and that's when he got this depraved idea.

"That was bad enough, but then... then he brought in the second prisoner, and I saw what he meant to do. He wants to be transferred to Black's body and have me combine Albus Dumbledore's magic with his. The result... well... my theory says that he will become amazingly powerful. Almost god-like. Or perhaps, devil-like would be more accurate.

"I asked how he managed to capture Dumbledore, and he bragged about it. It was during the fight – everyone was watching Voldemort and Harry Potter. Dumbledore was distracted, and Fudge hit him with a Stupefy, seized him, and Apparated.

"So now I have Soulstruck the most powerful wizard in the world, and rendered him helpless. Fudge was going to kill Dumbledore's body, but I told him that it might cause the magic to fade. He agreed, reluctantly. Then I suggested that adding Black's magic would make him even more powerful. He liked that idea. I also told him that I would need to do some more research, and could begin testing in early January.

"He permitted me to go home tonight with a reminder not to talk about this. I asked him why? Why this evil? He laughed at me and showed me the Dark Mark on his arm. It's faded, but still obvious what it is. I suppose my shock showed on my face, because he laughed again – a high, horrible laugh – and said he'd been in Voldemort's service for years and no one knew. Even Dumbledore hadn't known.

"I have been a fool, but I'm not stupid. Once I complete this – once the transfer is complete and the stolen magic transferred to him, I will be expendable. More, I will be a liability. I keep hearing that laugh in my head. That horrid laugh. If I get drunk, perhaps it will stop."

There was a long silence when Minerva finished reading. Bill let out a long breath. Harry buried his face in his hands, tears leaking through his fingers. Severus studied his hands where they lay on the table in front of him. Hermione bit her lip, and blinked furiously. Minerva had grown steadily paler as she spoke, and now she sat down, grief and anger mingled on her face. Time seemed to stop for a while.

"We need to get Albus out of there," Severus said finally. "and Black," he amended with a glance at Harry. "If this plan is allowed to come to fruition, no one who crosses Fudge is safe." He crossed over to the sideboard and poured fresh tea for them all.

"You're right, Professor," Bill said. "And sooner rather than later." He all but forced Harry's fingers around a teacup. "We're all members of the Order. Let's act like professionals."

"It's late," Hermione said, "and we're all worked up. We shouldn't do anything tonight."

"Tomorrow night," Harry said in a half-strangled voice. "I think I'll go mad in white linen if we wait any longer."

"I'll owl the rest of the Order," Bill said. "I assume we're meeting at Grimmauld Place?"

"That would be best, I think," Hermione said. "It's easier than explaining why everyone's coming to Hogwarts."

They left it there.

~*~

"What if no one shows up?" Harry asked. "The Order hasn't been active for months."

"In the owls I sent, I said 'News of A.D. Meeting.' They'll be here. It's half an hour yet." Bill cracked his knuckles. "I'm glad you finally got rid of that picture, not to mention that crazy house elf."

"Kreacher?" Ron walked in the door. "Good riddance to him! Good to see you, Harry. I heard you're teaching at the old school this year?"

"Me and Hermione both, Ron. She's teaching Potions as a favor to Minerva."

"Nice." Ron sprawled in a chair. "So, Bill, how about a preview of this news?" He put on his best innocent look.

"Sorry little brother, I only want to say things once. Let's wait till everyone else gets here."

The Order trickled in by ones and twos, except for the rest of the Weasleys who came en masse. Even Rita Skeeter showed up, looking unwontedly serious. The last time they had all been under this roof had been the morning of the last battle. The symbolism was not lost on them. When everyone was present – for they all had answered the summons – Minerva took the floor.

"We've recently acquired information about Albus' disappearance. We know approximately where he is being held, and why, and by whom. We have extremely limited time to effect a rescue. I'll summarize, provide copies of our information, and then we'll discuss plans." With a wave of her wand, she sent copies of Aberon's notebook around to everyone in the room. "The passages I believe are important are marked, but there is almost certainly more useful information that I didn't catch. Please hold your questions until I'm done."

She explained what they'd learned, though she neatly avoided the subject of Severus' restoration. "So, Albus' body is in a cell under the Ministry somewhere, along with Sirius Black's. We need to rescue them and restore them. Questions?"

"Something else we have to do also," Arthur Weasley said slowly, "is find McGaven and put him in protective custody until we can convene the Wizengamot. Fudge will kill him, and he is our only real witness."

"Not quite," Hermione answered. "Severus can testify also."

"But..." Arthur stopped and looked at her with enlightenment dawning. "You bought him at the auction – the memo came across my desk. So..."

"Yes, Arthur," Severus came forward from where he'd been standing in his best Grim pose. "Miss Granger risked a great deal to restore me."

There was a collective reaction at the table. Ron rolled his eyes and snorted in disgust, earning himself a kick from George who whistled in admiration. Arthur shook his head and muttered about fools rushing in where angels fear to tread, while his wife and daughter burst into tears of joy.

"Good job, Hermione!" Alastor Moody rumbled. The former Auror rose and looked Severus up and down. "Glad you're back with us, Snape. You're a better man than you give yourself credit for."

Tonks grinned and elbowed Kingsley, then the two applauded vigorously. Rita regarded both Severus and Hermione with a contemplative stare, saying nothing.

Minerva rapped on the table. "Business, please. Arthur is right. We need to find McGaven."

"We should do that at the same time as we spring Albus and Sirius," George said. "If Fudge finds McGaven missing, he may kill them, and vice versa."

"So two field teams," Tonks said, "Plus a team here for communication."

"I'm going to be on the team that rescues Sirius," Harry said in a voice that denied any appeal. "He's the only family I have."

"I'll be on the communication team," Rita said brightly. "It's what I do best." She tilted her head to one side. "Severus, could I... interview you?"

"Absolutely not," he snapped. The Heliax must have worn off. I'll need to be sure to take some more when we return to Hogwarts.

"Perhaps when this is over?" She caught the growing scowl on his face. "It was just a thought."

"I'll be on the communication team also," Minerva said. "We need at least two more here.

"I'd say that I should go after McGaven," Alastor rumbled. "I've shared more than a few drinks with him."

"Likewise," Bill said.

"Very well, Bill and Alastor – you two will find McGaven and try to bring him back here. Do you want a third?"

"Probably a good idea – easier to cover our backs."

"I'll go," Tonks volunteered. "It sounds more like action and less like sneaking around. My cup of tea."

"Molly and I will stay with the communication team," Arthur said. "That leaves who for the main field team?"

"George, Hermione, Ron, Kingsley, Harry, Severus, and Ginny."

"Not Ginny," said the owner of that voice. "I'm going back to the Burrow to take care of Percy as soon as the meeting is over."

"Who's in charge?" Ron asked. "Kingsley?"

"Not me," the retired Auror said. "I think Snape should lead this dance."

"Agreed," Hermione said just as Ron opened his mouth to protest.

"But..." Ron began again.

"No, Ron," Harry said. "Snape's the best choice. If you can't deal with it..."

They locked eyes, the two longtime friends, and it was Ron who looked away first. "You're right, Harry." Then to Severus, "I'll do as you say, sir."

"Very well then. We have only one objective: get Black and Albus out of there quietly and quickly and without getting caught. You Weasleys are in charge of diversions – both arranging them so we can get in and out, and having them available for emergencies. So you will be both point and rear-guard. We'll set up an Apparation point within line of sight of the Ministry. Kingsley, do you know the Aurors on night shift any more?"

"Not really. Haven't been by at night for a while."

"Then you're our outside lookout. You keep our Apparation point clear. You'll also be primary communicator to the team remaining here."

"Yes, sir." Kingsley turned to the communication team. "I can only keep two links up at this distance, if I'm going to be good for anything else."

"Same," Tonks interjected. "Damn useless spell, that Speech Relay is."

"It's better than nothing." Kingsley replied. "Can't rely on having a fireplace handy to Floo."

"Molly and I will be your links," Arthur said, "and Rita and Minerva can link with Tonks."

"Right. Loquimisso!" He touched his wand to Arthur's left ear, then repeated the spell on Molly while Tonks did the same to Rita and Minerva.

While the communication links were being established, Severus continued with his instructions to his team.

"Mr. Potter, Miss Granger, and myself will handle the actual rescue. When we get into the room, we'll check for traps and alarms and disarm any we find. Release any binding spells on the prisoners, and so on. Then, Mr. Potter, you will Apparate back here with Black, while I do the same with Albus. Miss Granger, you will then take down all our spells and work your way out with the Weasleys covering your retreat. Get back to the Apparation point, and then back here. With any luck, we can be in and out in less than an hour. Questions?"

Predictably, Hermione raised a tentative hand. "What about the inside team communicating back to Kingsley?"

"Can't do it," Kingsley answered. "Communication spells broadcast their presence, and any Auror worth the title will recognize them if he gets within fifty feet. So you'll be going in incommunicado."

"Any other questions?" Snape caught and held the eyes of each member of his team, one at a time. "Ready?"

A ragged chorus of affirmatives answered him, and he nodded slowly, then looked up at Minerva. "My team is ready."

"We're ready too," Moody said. "It's early enough that we're likely to catch McGaven in a pub. Save us the trouble of rousting him out of his house. Poor bloke – I'd drink too, if I had those troubles on my mind."

Minerva shook her head. "Severus, you'll need this." She handed him a wand. "Albus had a box of unregistered wands stashed over here. I still don't know how he got them. That one is ash and phoenix feather, like your old one."

As his fingers closed over the wood, he suddenly felt complete again – as if a vital gap in his soul had been filled. "Thank you, Minerva." He gave her one of his rare hugs, which she returned with interest.

Minerva looked at the clock, then at the faces of her friends. "Good luck, then, to all of you. One or the other of us will always be here if you need anything."

"Now y'see," Kingsley said to Ron right before they Apparated, "that's why he's a good leader. Twenty years as a spy – the man knows how to think on his feet."

~*~

Their chosen Apparation point was the same place Hermione had used only a few days ago when they'd engineered the first break-ins. Kingsley set up a series of passive alerts and subtle warn-offs that would keep most Muggles out of the vicinity. While he was doing that, the other five set up the static Charms they would need – Hermione's Catfoot spell on all of them, and Chameleon spells on Ron, George, Snape, and Hermione. Kingsley declined, preferring his own See-Me-Not spell. Harry, of course, had his cloak.

As before, they Apparated into the first sub-level of the Ministry as soon as the Aurors resumed their interminable game of Exploding Snap. George got a thoughtful look on his face as he regarded the staircase that led up to the main level. He knelt next to the bottom stair and muttered an incantation. A moment later he straightened up. "Let's go." He adroitly stepped over the stair he'd just trapped.

"What was that?" Hermione asked.

"A modified version of one of my new products," George grinned. "Anyone who steps on that will get the urge to hit the facilities... and it gets stronger pretty fast."

"Clever," Severus approved. "That might buy us some extra time."

"Oh, but we'll have to come all the way back to remove it!"

"No you won't. This spell dissipates in about an hour leaving very little magical residue – about what you'd see if someone with spelled shoes stepped there recently." He twirled his wand nonchalantly. "I've keyed it to alert me if someone triggers it also."

"Like one of the Aurors. George, that's incredible!"

"I'll take point," Ron volunteered. "I've gotten good at finding traps and the like." He rubbed his nose, "After Charlie and Fred... well, I thought it would be useful, so I've been studying it on my own."

They made their way down the corridors, Ron leading the way. Every so often he would stop and make a sweep for detection spells. George was sparing with his delaying spells, placing them at intersections, and sometimes going several feet down a path not taken to plant one.

They found the doors to the second level easily enough, as Harry and Hermione both remembered the way from when they'd been at the auction. The stairs to the third level were quickly located also, and they descended again with George putting a Sticky Hinge hex on the door after it closed behind them.

They had some trouble locating the stairway to the fourth level, and their half-hour was nearly up by the time they found it.

"How many levels?" Harry asked. It was one of the first things he'd said since they'd entered.

"This is it." Severus replied. "If McGaven was accurate, we'll find them here."

The corridor was perhaps a little shabbier than the upper levels, its paint not quite as bright, and the air a little mustier. It exuded an air of disuse. Ron turned to face them. "Wards ahead, and warn-offs." A fluffy cloud of pink smoke flared out of his wand and settled over the wards, showing a series of bars at knee and chest height criss-crossing the corridor. Other clouds of pink smoke clung to the walls where warn-offs and other alarm spells were located. "I'd say we're onto something – this is going to take a few to unlock."

It took several minutes of joint effort, but the wards and warn-offs faded quietly. "I think," Hermione said, "if we can, let's put them up from the other side."

"Someone's just tripped the first delay," George interrupted. "Let's move."

They moved. Once past the barrier, the corridor made a sharp right-angled turn and dead-ended in a door on the left and another straight ahead. Ron grimaced. "No wards here. I'm going to go back and put that mess back up. I don't think the Aurors will take it down again."

"I'll go with you," George said. "It'll go faster with two of us."

Severus nodded, and the Weasley boys disappeared around the corner.

The door on the left wasn't locked. It opened to reveal the laboratory described in McGaven's notebook – or one identical to it, down to the chains hanging on the wall. Severus gave the shackles no more than a passing glance, but Hermione saw his jaw muscles tighten. They gave it a quick once over, and turned their attention to the other door. This one was locked, and refused to respond to Harry's Alohamora.

Harry's fists clenched. "Mellon!" The door remained locked. "Damn!"

Severus raised an eyebrow at Hermione, who gave him an eyebrow right back. "Let me try, Harry." She pointed her wand at the lock and began murmuring incantations.

George and Ron came trotting back. "All set. Now we can Apparate out from here."

"Haven't you got that door open yet, Hermione?" Harry asked. Just as he finished speaking, the lock gave a quiet click and the knob turned. Shaking with eagerness, he was about to shove the door open when Snape's hand fell on his shoulder.

"Wards and alarms." Severus said quietly.

The Weasley brothers already had their wands out. "Door is clear," George said. He pushed it open slowly, alert for signs of trouble.

Another jet of pink smoke flew from Ron's wand and settled on the floor just inside the door, and in a spiral design in the air in the middle of the small room. "Pressure alarm there in the floor," he said, "and a Confounder Hex in the room. Clever hex, that. It makes you forget what you came in the room for."

"I'll take them down," Hermione said. "I've got to put them back up to cover our trail anyway." It took nearly four minutes, but alarm trap and hex quietly faded. She sagged against the door frame. "Go on – it's clear now."

Harry nearly bowled Severus over as he charged into the room. It was small and windowless; the only light came from the corridor. Two crumpled forms lay on pallets on the floor, and Harry's vision blurred with tears as he recognized one as his godfather. He knelt beside Sirius, feeling for the pulse at the throat. There was one, barely.

"Pick him up and Apparate, Potter!" Severus had lifted Albus in his arms already, and was glaring at the younger wizard. "We're past our time."

It was surprising how light Sirius was, Harry thought in the back of his mind. He hoisted him into a fireman's carry and nodded to Severus. "Ready!"

They Apparated, leaving Hermione and the Weasleys to clean up their trail and make their own ways out.