Strategy

Chapter Eighteen

Strategy

The Order of the Phoenix began meeting with regularity. Almost daily, in fact. The members who were still attending school, namely Harry, Ron, Hermione and Tanya, had been completely excused from their studies and other duties in order to put all their efforts into Order business.

Excuses were made to the staff and student body for the teachers and students who were no longer teaching or attending classes; most of the student body was unaware of the impending war, and Dumbledore decided it was better that way. The fewer people who knew of their plans, the less chance of Voldemort getting any information.

Because of the late Peter Pettigrew's confessions, it was imperative that Narcissa Malfoy and Macnair, the executioner, be executed at once. According to Pettigrew, these two were the ones that Voldemort was relying on the most. Without his new right and left hand wizards, the core of the Dark Lord's organizational plans would be on shaky ground.

Knowing that timing would be everything, the plans were to kill both these people simultaneously with Voldemort himself. If Voldemort realized his two best and most reliable Death Eaters had been killed, there was no telling what his back-up plan would be.

Snape was charged with dealing with Narcissa. She still trusted him, her unrequited lust for him surpassing any suspicions about his loyalties. Before dying, Pettigrew had assured Tanya and Snape, under the influence of Veritaserum, that Narcissa felt Voldemort was losing his sanity, what was left of it. She was still making her own decisions, believing the Dark Lord would thank her for it in the end.

Moody and Lupin would team up to deal with Macnair. The professional executioner was too suspicious of all wizards and witches to be easily taken in, and Moody came fully out of retirement to add his expertise to Lupin's keen sense of survival and his ability to think on his feet.

Tanya and Harry would be working together closely, deciding for themselves how to deal with Voldemort himself. They would have no way of knowing ahead of time how it could be done. They would have to assess whatever situation they found themselves in, and deal with it accordingly.

All other people in the Order, which would include help from the goblins, veela (most of them), and, if necessary, the centaurs, were to be used taking on Death Eaters. With any luck, even if they weren't successful in eliminating Voldemort, he'd have a hard time recruiting troupes in the future.

Everyone was on edge; losing sleep, skipping meals, snapping at each other when tensions ran higher than normal. Harry felt that the only time he lost that nervous tension was when he was in the depths of sleep.

He sat down to talk with Tanya for the first time in what seemed like a lifetime. He noted the dark circles under her eyes, but was impressed with the steady gaze she leveled at him.

He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "I'm sorry about . . . everything," he said. "From not understanding, or even trying to understand, about Mr. Malfoy. I'm sorry about carrying on like a lunatic about your scar. I feel bad about the doubts I once had when I saw a display of your powers."

She looked deeply into his eyes before answering. "I hope you didn't lose any sleep over any of that," she said. "There are more important things to worry about."

He didn't know if that meant he'd been forgiven or not. He tried again. "Tanya, I wish we could clear the air between us. We're going to have to depend on each other for our very lives, and I'm worried that you don't think you'll be able to count on me."

"Harry," she said quickly, "I've heard many stories about the things you've done. From people who aren't prone to exaggeration, and I know you can keep a cool head, that you can make snap decisions. You don't see yourself as a hero, I know, but I think you just don't know what a hero is.

"I have never blamed you for how you felt about me. It couldn't have been easy to know I kept some things hidden from you, seeing as how close we were getting. I know how shocked everyone was when Malfoy came to the grounds and I . . . well, you know what I did. Dumbledore told me that he showed you his memory of my hearing. If that didn't scare you away forever, I don't know what would.

"And yet, here you are, ready to put it all behind us. I think that shows a great deal of trust in me. And I trust you. We're going to be all right."

He allowed himself to relax, chiding himself for having hoped she'd rush into his arms. He had no right to expect that, and he was here in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place with her once again, this time plotting the demise of the blackest stain on the tapestry of wizardkind.

"Harry, I wonder how much you know of Voldemort's physical make-up nowadays. The last time you came up against him was at the Ministry of Magic, when he was trying to get the Prophecy, right?"

"Yeah." He shuddered at the memory of being possessed by such an evil being, once again thankful for the intervention of Professor Dumbledore, who had stepped forward to save Harry's life.

"He's not the same wizard now," she said, breaking into his thoughts. "He's no longer immortal. He's no more invulnerable than any of his Dark Wizards."

"What makes you think so?"

She just looked at him. "Do you know nothing of my talents? I know."

"Tanya, I'm not doubting you. It's just that you never told me about it. Not you, nor anyone else. I'm working blind, here."

She lowered her eyes, thinking. "You're right. I didn't mean to be so touchy about it." She leaned closer to him. "I sense things. Things that I know to be true; I seem to pick up on them without actually learning about them, but more as if I'd known all along. The gaje call it clairvoyance."

"I've heard of that," he said in awe. "I didn't know you were clairvoyant. I'll bet Trelawney would have loved you," he said, smiling.

"No," she admitted, "Trelawney hated me. She knew I was legit and it drove her crazy, thinking I'd expose her. She doesn't realize that no one really buys into her theatrics."

"So that's how you got all that information about Pettigrew and Malfoy, then."

"No, that's something else. Have you heard of astral projection?"

"Yes, but I never believed in it until Spring holiday, when Snape was beside himself with worry when you didn't return right away."

"Aye, he mentioned you were there, waiting with him for a while. Thank you for your concern."

Again, he felt disconcerted. He could still glean no feeling as to whether she was still feeling slightly cool toward him and was merely being polite, or if she was warming up to him, knowing he cared. Clearly, he would learn no more about what she was thinking than she was willing to tell him. He could use some clairvoyance of his own.

"What you have to understand about Voldemort is that he is more vulnerable to you now than he's ever been before. He has a physical body that can be killed.

"On the other hand, he is probably still the most powerful wizard in existence, next to Dumbledore. And the Prophecy says you must be the one to kill him. Many of us don't believe that, but the general public will continue to live in fear unless we can assure them that it was you that ended his life. They need closure. We all do."

He looked steadily at her, knowing it was going to come down to this. Was he really prepared to kill? Even Voldemort? She'd refrained from killing Malfoy. Was it because she couldn't bring herself to do it, or because, as she'd said, she wanted him to live long enough to suffer as he had made her suffer.

She must have seen his indecision in his eyes, because she slammed her hand down to the table between them. "Damnit Harry, this is no time to be unsure! You have to accept that this has to be done, or we'll all spend the rest of our lives running and hiding from this magical Hitler!"

He'd started when she hit the table, and cursed himself for appearing weak. He didn't feel weak; he felt fired up and ready to do battle. But he was also honest with himself. It wouldn't be easy. He'd do it; he had no doubt of that. But he knew it would cost him dearly.

"Voldemort knows he's vulnerable. According to Severus and Dumbledore, he typically struts about like a rooster while playing with people's lives. He'll probably do the same when we confront him now. Don't let him play his little cat-with-a-mouse games with you. Don't let him have a chance to finish a sentence. Don't make it dramatic. Just kill him as soon as you see him. This may be your only chance. He won't play with us for long."

He bristled at her tone. "Do you think I do the things I do for kicks? I know how dangerous he is!"

"And he knows how dangerous you are," she said smoothly. "He will try to talk you out of your concentration; he'll tell you things that are untrue, but he'll mix it with truth to confuse and attack you. If you stop to listen to him, we're both done for. And so is everyone else."

He met her gaze and held it unblinkingly. "I understand, Tanya. And I agree. You can count on it."

Her eyes finally softened. "I know I can, Harry. I'm glad I can." She stood up and left the kitchen, not looking back. Harry sighed, wishing he knew how she felt about him, really.

*****

Snape labeled his bottles with a shaking hand. What he was planning to do with this Potion shouldn't happen to a rabid dog. But it was a sure thing, and considering Narcissa's penchant for the unattainable, he felt reasonably sure he could talk his way into spending some private time with her in her quarters, where he knew he'd not be disturbed, providing he could pull this off before Voldemort knew what any of them were up to.

With Tanya fully back on her feet after her harrowing escape from the astral plane, and with Snape having calmed down after her loving display of just how much better she felt, he could finally concentrate on making the potion that would enable them to get past Voldemort's most inner circle. It would be up to others to take down the first resistance.

Tanya had, after many protests from Snape, "visited" Narcissa long enough to find her new home. She was living alone now, having sent Draco away to relatives in Germany. She was apparently lonely, Tanya having witnessed some pretty disgusting things she did on those nights when Narcissa found herself missing the attentions of her vegetable of a husband. Snape had been amused listening to Tanya describe what she'd seen, and he was once again reminded that Tanya really hated this part of being clairvoyant and astral.

Moody and Lupin had explained to the rest of the Order how they'd charmed various Muggle weapons to adapt them for the need to take out Macnair before he even knew they were around. After practicing with a Muggle-wand, or as Harry explained to them, a handgun complete with silencer, Lupin could hit a target as well as anyone could expect. Moody, not being willing to leave a single thing to chance, cast further charms on the bullets they would use, ensuring that they would hit Macnair's heart, even should Lupin aim over his head. The bullets would dissolve in Macnair's blood within seconds after piercing his heart, leaving no ballistic evidence for the Ministry to deal with, and spreading toxins throughout his body that would disappear after a few minutes.

These charmed bullets were in the gun Lupin now carried wherever he went, although the hope was that it wouldn't be necessary until Tanya, Harry, Snape and the two of them timed their plans to the minute.

The riskiest factor was Narcissa. There was no logical way to predict how much time it would take for Snape to set her up. Or even if he'd be able to. Any other weapon would do no good, as she habitually charmed herself to the equivalent of a Muggle who wears a bullet-proof vest that encased his entire body. None of the usual charms would work either, as she made it a habit to keep herself in the public eye of Muggles. No one was willing to risk discovery from the Muggles, who would find a way to throw the proverbial monkey wrench into the works at the worst possible time. Thus, Snape was forced to come up with a solution that would enable them to be alone, with nothing more than sex on her mind.

Snape tried to gloss over details of his plan as much as possible, feeling like nothing more than a gigolo, but he suspected that those with not enough to do had plenty of time to speculate upon just what was involved in her impending assassination. And he also wondered how he was going to get through the evening, lavishing attention on a woman he detested, especially after he had become used to the attentions of a woman he loved. He'd damn well better get some decent compensation from the Ministry if he proved successful. It was way above and beyond the call of duty, in his opinion.

According to Tanya, the best night to corner Narcissa would be this coming Friday night, around 10:00. That's when she could usually be found in that vile little disco that she claimed as her favorite haunt.

Harry, Tanya, Moody, Lupin and Snape worked out together that if Snape could lure her away from the disco back to her flat by 11:00, she could be dead by 11:30.

With that in mind, it was decided that Macnair would have to be found and eliminated by 11:30 as well. Macnair was a home-body, preferring his own company to anyone else's. Tanya had already determined the wards on his private home, and frequent visits to that house while he was out further determined that he didn't frequently change these wards. Already, the knowledge that she can cause physical changes while in the astral was coming in handy.

At 11:00, Harry and Tanya would Apparate to the small cottage that currently housed Voldemort. They could take him out whenever they had the opportunity, the sooner the better. Once he was out of it, it didn't matter how long the others took. Preparations were going on all around the cottage, deep in the nearby woods and villages, to house a number of wizards who would prepare the cottage for an unimpeded entrance.

With the plans set, the Order agreed to meet with its members for the last time on Friday at 9:00. Time enough to make any necessary last minute changes, but not so much time that everyone started getting nervous.

The war would be a quick one, with most of the world none the wiser.