Harry twirled his staff in both hands as he was dodging two jets of sickly looking yellow light. His staff came to bear parallel to the soft-grassed earth below his feet and from either end two large bolts of magma hot flame shot out towards the two Death Eaters he was dueling.
Hermione and Neville were each busy with their own Death Eater, their wands blurs of movement as spells, curses and hexes were traded, each seeking to get under the guard of the other.
The screaming on Harry's left told him that one of his opponents hadn't got a defense up in time, while the right Death Eater simply hurled a Flame-Freezing Charm towards the bolt of fire and it froze into a jagged icicle. Harry gestured with his left hand before the icicle could fall towards the ground and it shot towards the Death Eater like it was launched out of a cannon. Unfortunately, the icicle was too blunt to impale the Death Eater but the ice shattered upon the chest of the surprised dark wizard. The breaking of ribs was heard as the Death Eater was flung off his feet from the resultant velocity and crashed into the ground ten feet away.
The torched Death Eater to Harry's left had managed to put out the flames that had almost begun to burn his skin…as it was, the black robes he had once been dressed in was in tatters and left large patches of skin exposed. There were angry burns on his face and hands though, and Harry was impressed despite himself as to the man's tolerance for pain.
The scorched Death Eater began to throw spells again, the least harmful of which was a Choking Hex. Harry pointed the end of his staff towards the oncoming spells; a shield made up of a complex weaving of blue glowing lines appeared at one end while out of the other end a glowing white light appeared and resolved into dozens of thin white jets of power that zipped around like angry bees. The salvo of spells aimed at him were absorbed harmlessly and in some cases (depending on the spell) deflected back at the caster…Harry released the jets of power and they zoomed towards the Death Eater…taking multiple vectors. The Death Eater's shield saved him from his own spells and some of the laser beam like jets of light, but he clearly hadn't thought that they were self-guiding to an extent and numerous numbers of them penetrated his defenses.
The now dead Death Eater fell to the ground riddled with numerous holes in his body.
He saw the other badly injured Death Eater clutching his ribs in pain and struggling to breathe, but was trying to raise a wand towards Hermione's back, who was still locked in combat with her opponent. Harry slammed his staff into the ground in anger and the jewel at its head began to glow with power. The injured Death Eater did not notice anything wrong at first as he mentally prepared to send a Killing Curse into the Mudblood's back, but the next thing he knew it was as if a giant invisible hand had grabbed a hold of him.
The Death Eater screamed as the pressure caused his broken ribs to begin lacerating his lungs, Harry gestured with his staff and the dark wizard was shot off the ground and high into the darkness of the night sky, his scream was cut short by the sheer velocity at which he was traveling…and he vanished into the distance. A rather clinical part of Harry estimated that the man would probably plunge into the Atlantic Ocean about a hundred kilometers off the west coast of England at the terminal velocity for a falling body in the Earth's atmosphere.
Harry turned to watch the two fierce battles still continuing.
He would not interfere…unless the tide turned against either of his friends. He could probably end the two remaining Death Eaters with apparent ease in this situation. But while it would solve the problem it would also be robbing Neville and Hermione of the opportunity to grow stronger and forge their own path. Harry was on borrowed time back within the wizarding world and he would not allow them to pin all their hopes for the future on him.
As far as he was concerned, his primary overriding focus, was to merely stop the war in the wizarding world. Killing Riddle and disbanding his forces, while providing personal satisfaction could not be the focus…as such a desire would eventually lead to corruption…Riddle's death would merely be a by-product of his efforts.
Nothing is won in war. Both sides lose, in the ultimate end.
Harry's attention was drawn to Neville as the stout former Gryffindor overwhelmed the shield of opponent with a very strong Hex that he couldn't catch because of its sheer speed and sideways slash of his wand later a purple flame traced itself across the Death Eaters chest, causing the dark wizard to fall to the ground in a crumpled heap.
The last Death Eater, wisely realizing that retreat was the better part of valor at the moment, managed to surprise Hermione by flinging a curse near her feet that caused dust, grass and debris to shoot up into her face, a moment later, the dark wizard vanished…no doubt by Portkey.
"Damn!" cussed Hermione, wheezing, coughing and wiping her eyes to clear them of the foreign debris.
"Easy," said Neville, coming over and with a gentle wave of his wand her face was clean and eyes clear.
"Thanks," she said, brushing off her robes and looking around. The battle had taken place on the far outskirts of a village Harry didn't know the name of somewhere in central England. "It seems the Aurors are still busy trying to drive the Dementors away." Harry looked towards the village in the distance and saw what had to be the light of Patronus's radiating upward in the sky from between the various houses and buildings.
"At least they can now focus solely on them," said Harry evenly, "send a Patronus to Shacklebolt that we've taken care of the Death Eater escort." She nodded and a bright ethereal Otter shot out of her wand and raced into the distance towards the village.
"The Obliviators are going to have their work cut out," said Neville, as in the distance a rather large Patronus crested the rooftops to chase after a fleeing group of five Dementors. "There's no way the Muggles inside the buildings are missing this." The Obliviators – wizards who specialized in the modification of memories – did not exist anymore as a separate group as in the days of the Ministry, but were merged with the Auror Corps; as was the standard Law Enforcement Patrol. He now turned to study Harry's opponents or rather opponent and winced at the state of the Death Eater looking like Swiss cheese. "Where's the other one?"
Harry raised an eyebrow at his friend. "Probably wishing he had brought a broom with him into battle." The tone with which this was spoken left it clear to Neville that he should let the matter drop.
Resistance HQ, Glastonbury Tor
Harry stood leaning against his staff, looking rather exhausted after the Death Eater battle and subsequent mop up of the Dementors attempting to prey upon the village and the modification of dozens of non-magical people's memories. As it was, despite the Resistance's intervention after a tip off from the Goblins working intelligence duties, twenty people in the village had lost their souls.
St Mungo's, the hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries was no more…as such the Auror's had the rather grim task of taking the twenty afflicted people and administering euthanasia on them by cyanide and cremating the remains, since the soulless made for excellent Inferi. There was no other choice. It was either this, or watch as those twenty soulless bodies be made Inferi and eventually kill hundreds more.
Harry had observed this grim preventative action and initially been sickened by it. Was this what Riddle had reduced even his worst enemies to? Sadly, this was the case. But after seeing how disgusted the Aurors were with themselves afterwards it had at least shown that it still bothered them, no matter how many times they did it.
"A rather hollow victory," said Albus sadly after hearing Harry's report of events. The old wizard was looking much better; his long silver white hair was now perfectly straight, his face had regained some color and plumpness, he seemed a lot more animated with his gestures and his voice was strong.
"Indeed," said Harry stoically, adopting a Teal'C like expression.
"Are you certain this Death Eater who managed to escape did not see your face?"
"My hood is powered to remain in place and my face hidden in shadow," answered Harry with a sigh. "All he could report to Riddle is that they encountered an unknown faceless wizard wielding a staff. I am content to let the mystery of me gnaw in his mind."
Dumbledore nodded, conceding the point.
"Has there been any news of Fletcher? It's been two weeks," said Harry with a raised expectant eyebrow.
"No," said Albus with his own sigh, "my contacts abroad are looking, but so far nothing has turned up. If he is still in the British Isles; all of the Resistance has been informed to be on the lookout for him but not to approach, only follow and report on his movements directly to me."
"Good," nodded Harry his mind going at hyperspeed, "can't the Goblins help us by looking into Fletcher's finances?"
"If Mundungus has a vault to store his…loot and gold, as it were, the Goblins would never co-operate and reveal it to us," said Albus with a wry smile, "they allow us only to look at known Death Eater accounts. And since he is no Death Eater, merely a thief, they will not make an exception…Gringotts will not further risk its own reputation as being impartial…they would lose a lot of business if they alienated the criminal underworld. This war has already cut their profits…they will not risk doing something that will cause a gold rush."
"Then how do we find him?" snarled Harry in frustration. "How do you possibly find an old experienced criminal like him when he doesn't want to be found?"
"Ah," said Albus, a grin forming on his face. "I've had an idea about that…we do not have to search for him as such…we have to get him to come to us."
"A trap?"
"From a certain point of view, yes," nodded Albus, his eyes twinkling in mischief. "I prefer to see it as a rather strong incentive based invitation. Remember, I know the scallywag quite well."
"We need bait then," said Harry with a tired grin.
"I know just the thing," said Albus, his eyes glittering in humor and even more mischievously. Sometimes, Harry wondered how it was possible to have a 150-year-old man acting more youthfully than even he himself did.
"He wants us to steal WHAT?" asked Hermione shrilly, her eyes bursting with incredulousness. Harry and Neville winced at the volume. They had gathered in Neville's quarters to plan for the capture of Fletcher.
"You heard me," said Harry evenly.
"I don't believe this!" she said, starting to pace up and down; looking as if steam was coming out her ears as she was thinking.
"Did Albus really suggest this?" asked Neville dubiously.
"He did indeed," confirmed Harry, "and you have to admit, he's known Fletcher for a long time. Apparently what we are going to steal is something Fletcher has coveted for over fifty years. It's in fact, the very reason that he was in the Order of the Phoenix and in Albus's debt. Apparently Fletcher made an attempt to steal it sometime during the late 1960s and he was caught…Albus smoothed things over and managed to arrange a pardon after only three months in Azkaban. Using this life debt, Albus conscripted Fletcher into the Order to keep an eye on the criminal underworld during the first War."
"There has to be another way," said Hermione resolutely.
"If you have a better suggestion Hermione, I'm all ears," said Harry wryly. "It's been two weeks and a lot of people have been looking for him with no success…time is a luxury we cannot afford. The last Horcrux must be found as soon as possible, this is fastest course towards that goal."
"Ok, say we do this," said Neville, looking warily at Hermione as she glared at him for suggesting it, "do we even know what protections are installed around it?"
"The best security money can buy, at least from a non-magical perspective," said Harry thoughtfully, "and there are magical wards as well, placed there since before we separated ourselves from the non-magical world during medieval times."
"So it's not going to be easy," concluded Neville.
"Not by any stretch of the imagination," said Harry grimly.
"Can't we bring the owners in on this?" said Hermione plaintively, now looking resigned. For she knew that when Harry put his mind to something…not much would stop him. "I'm sure if we just explained…"
"The whole point is to make it appear as a genuine robbery," said Harry patiently, "we can't afford for it to look too easy. The press is sure to get wind of it and it will be international headlines the next day in both magical and non-magical worlds. So no matter where Fletcher has hidden himself, he will hear of it. It will either flush him out to Albus' contacts…who will be keeping an eye on international travel…or we will tell the Goblins to drop hints to the underworld that we'll be holding a little auction. But don't worry Hermione, we'll be sure to return it to its rightful place once we have Fletcher in our grasp."
London, England…
It was founded nearly a millennium ago, and expanded on in the centuries since. It has protected, housed, imprisoned and been for many the last sight they would see in this life. It has been the sight of the British Government and the living quarters of the monarch's…the sight of renown political intrigue…it has also oddly been the home to lions, bears, and (to this day) flightless ravens…not to mention notorious traitors and framed members of court, lords, ministers, clergymen and knights.
This was the Tower of London.
And incidentally it was also home to Crown Jewels…
"It's located in East London on the boundaries of the boroughs of Stepney and the City of London," said the earnest looking Tour guide, with his slightly balding head glinting in the sun overhead and his gray hair immaculate and tweed suit. To Harry's eye he carried an aura of confidence of a man who knew his subject and has been doing this for a very long time.
Harry glanced in amusement at Neville; who was looking uncomfortable in his normal clothing of a casual shirt and jeans, apparently he felt it was too tight and he could be occasionally seen waddling slightly. Hermione of course, was quite comfortable in her spaghetti strap sundress that showed off her beauty rather well…a few of the younger guys in the tour group were giving her interested looks. Thereby Harry was rather confused as he felt himself getting irritated and possessive at their ogling.
He put it out of his mind as the Tour group was now walking along the pedestrian route across Tower Bridge.
"To the east of the Tower you can see St Katherine's docks," continued the tour guide. "And the Tower of London dominates the river approaches to the City of London; as a reminder to those entering of where you might end up if you came here with…less than honest intentions."
The tour group crossed the bridge and paused across the street from where the outer wall of the Tower was in rather prominent view.
"The Tower of London is the oldest palace, fortress and prison in Europe," said the tour guide neutrally, though there was a hint of pride in there. "The great fortress was originally created by William the Conqueror. The site he chose was the same site on which Claudius, a Roman Emperor, had built a fort over a thousand years earlier…remnants of this fort is still visible in the Tower."
"As king succeeded king, additions were made…the fortress was enlarged by building walls and smaller towers around the central keep. Towards the end of the twelfth century, Richard the First added to its defensibility by building a moat around it, which was fed by the River Thames. Unfortunately," the tour guide now sported an amused look, "the engineers of the time got it wrong. With the rising of the tide the moat should have been flushed out, but the elevation was incorrectly calculated. The result that the water in the moat was not flushed and eventually the sewerage and water stalled in it and the smell…well, apparently it even added to the defensibility since no one would dare go for a swim." Some among the tour group chuckled and shuddered theatrically. "The moat was drained in 1830 and the amount of human remains found made it obvious that some did indeed try to brave the moat…and failed."
"As you can see, the Tower of London is roughly square in shape with two lines of defensive walls enclosing the Great White Tower in the centre…"
Harry listened only with half an ear from that point on as the group crossed the street and they were escorted through a visitor's entrance gate. He opened his mind to the Universe and saw that the Tower did indeed have an Anti-Apparation and Anti-Portkey Ward extending around to the boundaries…one which was rather old. The wards, unlike Hogwarts, were hardly as powerful…since a similar concentration of power would've interfered with electronics.
"As you can see," said the guide, "we're entering at the base of Tower Hill, and this gate is where prisoners were handed over to the Sheriff of London"
The group continued forward and now other visitors and tourists were seen milling about, their noses in brochures, their digital cameras around their necks or in their hands and taking snaps. Multitudes of nationalities and ethnicities were on display as well. Harry looked around and saw that they were now walking along a small causeway and prominent ahead was a tower with an arched passageway between and overhead were ancient portcullises.
They crossed the moat, which was now a healthy green lawn and eventually entered through yet another Tower, this one called the Byward Tower. Harry eventually found himself standing within the Outer Ward. To the left was Mint Street (once housed the Royal Mint) and they continued walking along Water Lane.
Finally, they entered the Inner Ward, and with Bell Tower in the background the group walked down the inner street toward the central forward area of the complex.
"Anything?" whispered Hermione from beside him.
"Beside a rather weak ward around the general area…nothing," said Harry softly.
Finally, after numerous little stops to explain this history of a particular gate or area or Tower, they arrived at the White Tower; 90 feet high, standing at ground level it made for a particularly impressive sight, of course it had nothing on Hogwarts. Above the battlements on the upper levels rose four turrets, one at each corner of the Tower. The entrance to the tower was reached by an external staircase, as there were no doors at ground level…again to disadvantage any invader.
The first thing they encountered, and here the Tour Group paused again, was the Tournament Room. It contained an amazing collection of armor dating from the Middle Ages all the way to 1914; they next walked to an adjacent room containing a collection of ancient hunting weapons, from old flintlocks to crossbows.
They ascended a set of staircases and they finally arrived in the room that housed what they were looking for. The room itself was long rectangular in shape, with a highly polished wood linoleum floor and various square display cases of different sizes placed evenly around the floor space.
In the central, most prominent display case was their bait. Harry, Hermione and Neville stood just a few feet away from it and gazed at the Crown Jewels rather ambivalently – this was one of those moments you realize that you are about to do something that you never imagined doing…ever.
Most prominent in the display, was the Imperial State Crown; this is what was worn by monarchs at their coronation; the most prominent gems in the crown was a beautiful sapphire in the cross patte above the monde and just above the rim was a blood red ruby and countless smaller diamonds that sparkled all over in the lighting of the room. While priceless…this was not their target and not Mundungus Fletcher's Holy Grail. Harry tore his eyes away from the Crown to look below it.
The Royal Scepter is what called to the thief's greedy heart. It was a rod of chased gold, with an extremely large peerless diamond called the 'Star of Africa' held in a heart shaped mount. Above this was an amethyst with a diamond-encrusted cross set with an emerald. Harry was rather surprised as he gazed with his mind's eye at the Scepter.
"Hermione, was a wizard at any point on the throne of England?"
"Umm…let me think," she said thoughtfully, "oh yes, the last was Aethelred the Unready, he ruled around 979 AD. According to official wizarding history at least, he was the last wizard to sit on the throne."
"But you doubt this is true?" he said softly, he had caught the skeptical tone of voice she used.
"There had to have been a few wizards or witches to turn out in the various bloodlines of Royals over the past thousand years," she argued in a whisper. "But this was around when Hogwarts was founded and one of the prime reasons for it's founding was that Muggles began to fear and distrust us. I think that any Royal that developed magical talent was either kept from attending Hogwarts or they did so under an assumed identity; as such there would be no official record of them. Why do you ask?"
"Because the Royal Scepter is a magical foci," said Harry easily.
"You're kidding," said Hermione with wide eyes. He shook his head.
"You mean it's a wand?" asked Neville in confusion.
"Not really," said Harry, "a Scepter can't be used as you would a wand, it requires the same mental dexterity required to wield a staff…"
"So it's just a short version of a staff," concluded Hermione. He nodded. "What security do you see?"
"Non-magical or Magical?"
"Magical…"
"There's a rather complex Alarm Ward tied to the normal security systems set to go off if excess magic levels are detected," said Harry, looking around the glass case, "rather ingenious, whichever wizard did it managed to find a perfect blend between electronics and magic…I'd almost call it Technomagic…"
"I thought magic and technology were mutually exclusive," whispered Neville.
"Hardly," said Harry, thinking of nearly every piece of Ancient technology he'd come across. "You just have to have the right level of technology to channel magic, though this is clearly not the case here…no, this wizard managed to cast just enough power and complexity in the ward at a low enough level to still allow electronics to function normally alongside it."
"That's not a very strong ward then," said Hermione.
"It's not designed to keep a wizard out," said Harry thoughtfully, staring at the magical energy of the ward as it flowed through the display case, "ah…quite amazing, the ward is there as a lure…any disruption by a wizard trying to break it and the standard alarms are tripped, sealing off this room with heavy metal gates…trapping anyone inside."
"And there's no Apparation or Portkey's out…so you're in trouble," said Hermione.
"The wards here might keep your average wizard from apparating, but as I've demonstrated I am hardly a normal wizard," said Harry with airy smile.
"Quite," said Hermione dryly. "But what about the non-magical security?"
"There are miniature cameras at strategic points all around the room," said Harry, his eyes closed. Hermione had no idea how he could be possibly be sensing the technology in the room. "There are vibration sensors on the floors, microphones to detect any sound, thermal sensors that detects the body heat of a person…oh and a weight sensor underneath the crown jewels that will register if there is any disturbance to the jewels themselves."
"No wonder Fletcher was caught," said Hermione in awe, "there's no way he could've pre-empted all those security systems…even with magic."
"So how are we going to do it?" asked Neville despondently.
Harry opened his eyes and a smirk developed on his face.
Later that evening…
Hermione and Neville stood atop one of high walkways of Tower Bridge that looked down upon the Tower of London. In the evening the Tower was lit with great floodlights that shone from the ground up and made everything look even more beautiful and majestic than it already did. The area they stood on was closed to the public at this late hour, and as such they had merely apparated to this point…and waited.
They were rather miffed at Harry.
His plan for stealing the Crown Jewels didn't give them anything to do…they were no more than spectators at a Quidditch game. The only possible situation that they could do anything was in the unlikely event that Harry was captured. Two hours ago they had all three stood atop Tower Bridge and Harry had told them to stay here and in that moment he was gone with barely a sound of Apparition.
"How long has it been?"
"Three minutes since the last time you asked," said Hermione irritably, twirling her wand absentmindedly through her fingers.
"It's taking too long," declared Neville shortly.
"Neville," said Hermione in exasperation, "Harry has to fool a complex set of Muggle devices without tripping the Alarm ward, in other words, he can't use too much magic or the wards raise the alarm, but he needs magic to fool the devices."
"Isn't that like a Turkey or the egg problem…"
"It's chicken or the egg," said Hermione with a sigh, "and yes, that's a good analogy, but the trick is to find a balance."
Silence descended among the pair again as fifteen minutes passed.
"How long has it been?"
Hermione was on the verge of charming Neville's voice away…when a figure appeared out of thin air in the darkness to their right along the walkway. There was a brief flash of light from the motorway below that allowed them catch sight of Harry's face. It also allowed them to partially make out his figure…and for a moment Hermione thought that he was naked! But the next moment she thought she must have imagined it, because he walked forward and was dressed in black as night wizard's robes.
"Harry!"
"Hey guys," said Harry distractedly, staring down at the Tower.
"Did you get it?" asked Neville.
"Oh…yes, of course," he said, and turned back to them and pulled out of his large robe pocket a foot long thin bundle wrapped in white cloth. He carefully unwrapped it and there, as beautiful as it was behind the glass of the display case, was the Royal Scepter in his hands. They admired it for a few moments and Harry wrapped it again and pocketed it in his robes. "And now…" he said, turning to look at the White Tower, he raised his hand and flicked his fingers…there was a brief flash of sparks from his hand…
The Tower of London was suddenly lit up to three times its normal level of lighting and soon distant figures could be seen sprinting towards the White Tower from all over the grounds, converging on it. Hermione was rather surprised that no wailing alarm had gone off; then again, it was most likely a silent alarm…not a minute later numerous police vehicles streamed towards the Tower…their sirens also conspicuously off.
"Harry, what did you do?" asked Hermione curiously.
"Well, I conjured a golf ball and let it hover in mid air over the floor from two meters up…" he explained with a grin.
"And when you flicked your fingers…you ended the spell?" asked Neville.
"Indeed," said Harry.
They watched the bustling of security forces that had flooded over the Tower of London grounds for a few moments before Harry decided that it was best to leave. He placed a left hand on Hermione's shoulder and his right on Neville's and all three vanished into thin air.
"I must admit I had a few doubts as to whether you would be successful, Harry," said Albus, who was now for the first time in a long while out of his sick bed and seated on a lazy boy chair. The old wizard had carefully unwrapped the Scepter and was admiring it from different angles, whilst still keeping it partially covered in the white cloth, to stop his hands from smudging the fine gold finish of the ancient magical foci.
"Why?" said Harry with a curious frown.
"My dear young wizard," said Albus with a fond chuckle, "I'm the one who was approached to ward these jewels from magical thieves in the first place."
"Should've known," grumbled Harry. "That kind of magical Paradox trap is exactly your style…make the ally (in this case, magic) of an enemy his own worst enemy."
"Indeed," said Albus, his eyes twinkling in mirth, "and I would surely like to know how you fooled my clever little trap."
"And you should know," said Harry mock-chidingly, "that a wizard should never reveal his own work and secrets."
"Too true," chuckled Albus, his eyes now turned to the Scepter, "oh, how Ollivander would've liked to be here now…"
"I take it the original Scepter was made by one of his ancestors," stated Harry, inviting elaboration. Ollivander the wand maker was now missing for five years running. He had disappeared before the Sixth Year of Clone Harry's education at Hogwarts. Initially it was thought that Riddle and his Death Eaters had captured him, but later intelligence from a Death Eater defector showed that Riddle was also in the dark as to the wand maker's whereabouts. It was then clear that Ollivander had hidden himself to prevent his person from being kidnapped and his services used by Riddle to give an advantage of to the Dark side; if that happened then the loss of a wand for a Death Eater would be inconsequential, but the same for a Resistance wizard would be a severe blow. Harry could only admire the wand maker for his foresight, he had taken himself out of the equation and kept both sides on a level playing field.
"Yes," nodded Albus, "though what we see here is not the original Scepter, since most of the diamonds was not discovered until this century…it's still fully functional as a magical foci, as it should be…this Scepter is what is used by the Royal family to detect if any child born into the line has magical potential." Albus lowered the Scepter and wrapped it up again. "But its beauty is not why we stole it…from tomorrow, when the theft hits the news, my contacts will be keeping an eye out for Mundungus. If they hear or see nothing in a week, then I will ask the Goblins to place word out that the thief of the Scepter is accepting bids for it…in that case you, Harry, will need to assume the alias of the thief when the auction takes place."
"Very well," nodded Harry.
The following morning the news of the theft hit the news media with the force of a storm. All over the UK there was a feeling of anger that anyone dared to do such a thing…this feeling was most prominent in the Royalist supporters, those ambivalent were outraged in a fit of patriotism…since the Jewels were a symbol of the country, democrats or anti-monarchs simply shrugged and while they condemned the theft and mourned at the loss (due to their historic value) they didn't really care.
For the next week, Harry, Neville and Hermione, went out on nearly daily raids against any target they could find. Any magical business that was willingly in cahoots in with Riddle and financing him became the victims of strange fires that consumed the property and its merchandise despite numerous wards to prevent such occurrences and intrusions. In actual fact, before the fire was started, Harry would place beacons on anything that would benefit the resistance and it would be transported out by the Achilles in orbit and he would let them materialize just before the Transporter Rings on top of Glastonbury Tor…where they would be Ringed down. The goods included anything from food to Foe Glasses, and other things that they didn't want the Dark side to benefit from.
On other nights they would merely 'buzz' the homes of known Death Eaters. This involved either tripping an outer magical ward or merely attempting to break the ward…either way, it would instantly become known to the occupants of the home that it was under attack. They would summon help from other Death Eaters and just as they apparated in Harry, Hermione and Neville would apparate out. Similarly, the Aurors would do the same at numerous other locations at specific times.
Harry found it hilarious to watch through the night as the Death Eaters nearly howled in frustration at what appeared to be another false alarm.
'Buzzing' became a favorite sport for Fred and George Weasley (though they took it dead seriously that they were dealing with deadly opponents), the infamous, notorious, twins and pranksters of the Resistance; who would use numerous magical items of their own invention to make the Death Eaters lives that much more chaotic. Imagine coming out of your home in the morning only to find that the area around your house has been turned into a massive swamp with crocodiles, deadly snakes and all a manner of stinging insects. Or that that new hairbrush you just bought caused your hair to shrivel out. Or to find that that pumpkin juice bottle you bought had been laced with a magical glamour that made it appear as if you were Voldemort himself and it lasted for a week.
Finally, a week had come and gone, and there was still no sign of Mundungus Fletcher.
Therefore, Albus' plan B had come into effect and not a day later, an incognito Goblin had informed one of his contacts in the criminal underworld that the Scepter was to be auctioned by the thief in a week. The place of the auction was not revealed, except that any prospective bidder had to be at the statue of Admiral Nelson in front of Buckingham Palace on early Monday morning. This served the purpose of keeping things civil…, as no one would dare start a magical battle in the middle of London rush hour traffic. Because if you placed a bunch of magical thieves and criminals in close proximity…it wouldn't be long before an old rivalry would flare and cause a major scuffle.
And so it was, that on Monday morning, at exactly eight o'clock, that eight wizards and three witches congregated at the Statue of the famous Naval Admiral that had defeated the Spanish Naval Armada. All of them had their hoods up to conceal their identities and they glanced at each other warily, all their hands visible and at their sides so as to not give away the impression that they might be reaching for a wand.
Now such a congregation of wizards and witches would…on any other day, attract odd glances from any passing Muggles. Who were those people who dressed in dark colored robes? Who wore hooded cloaks these days? But it was immediately clear to the more magically talented of the group that someone had did some preparation for this initial meeting…as there was a Muggle Eye Repelling ward on the immediate area around the statue. Anyone non-magical looking at Nelson's statue would know it was there, but their eyes would not be able to focus on it and their gaze would slide past it.
This was immediately apparent as a Garbage man who poked at rubbish with a sharp stick passed within a few centimeters of the wizards and witches and didn't see them at all. The Garbage man did his job and walked off.
The assembled group's nervous watch on each other was interrupted as a wizard apparated within their midst…a wizard that in an obvious display of magical skill, made naught a sound as he appeared. He wore ubiquitous black robes and had an overlarge hood that concealed his face. The black wizard raised his hands to show no wand was in them.
"Greetings," said the wizard.
"Who are you?" said one of the witches without preamble.
"That is not important," said the black wizard dismissively.
"You most certainly are not part of the community," stated one of the other wizards, this one wearing purple robes. "Our reputation is of utmost importance to us, through the Thieves Guild we all at least know of each other through our aliases…and a general idea of each others' skill. The skill to rob the Scepter is not found on the British Isles and your accent definitely suggests you hail from here."
"My, my," chuckled the black wizard appreciatively. "You lot, are clever…you would have to be. But if you doubt my intentions…why would you come at all?"
"Fresh blood is always welcome in the Guild," said another wizard with a shrug. "And a chance to bid for the Scepter is too good to pass up."
"Yes, well…we have a little problem there," said the black wizard lightly.
"Problem? What problem?" said one of the wizards.
The black wizard snapped his fingers at one of the witches. This witch had a dumpy look to her and was wearing wrinkled brown robes and a few strands of long gray hair could be seen poking out of her hood. The witch in question snapped as straight as a washboard and fell face forward onto the ground. As the event dawned on the assembled witches and wizards, wands sprang into hand from sleeve holsters and bore down upon the black wizard.
Harry sighed and with but a come hither gesture of his hands all the wands aiming at him shot out of their owners hands and landed at his feet.
"Peace!" he shouted at the group.
"Peace?" shouted a thief incredulously. "You attack one of our own and expect us to sit idly by? How do we know we're not the next one to be wandlessly petrified?"
"Simple," said Harry and in front of every witch and wizard there was a flash of white light and ten sacks of gold appeared, in each was a thousand Galleons. "A recompense for the inconvenience of my ruse." They warily lifted the bags and opened them.
"You stole the Scepter…just to lure her here?" asked another thief shrewdly.
"Indeed," was all Harry said, and with sweep of his hand the wands at his feet flew back to their respective owners. "Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, for your interest in the Scepter, but it is not for sale. It will be returned to its rightful owners and given even more protection. You may now go back to whatever misdeeds you had planned for the day."
The ten remaining magicians, obviously not wanting to further inconvenience such a powerful wizard, promptly disapparated on the spot. Harry turned to the prone witch and sighed with disappointment.
"Really, Mundungus, reusing disguises are we," he said wryly, "it wouldn't have mattered anyway if you were disguised effectively…I can smell that distinctive tobacco you use a mile away."
The witch remained silent.
"Oh yes, of course, how silly of me, you can't talk," said Harry theatrically. He pulled back on the hood of the witch and saw how the long gray hair was loose now and clearly a wig. He flung the wig away to reveal the familiar scruffy hair that he remembered Fletcher possessed. Harry turned over the petrified body and stared into that grubby old face that usually had an old smoking pipe in its mouth. The old thief's eyes were glaring daggers. "Relax, an old acquaintance of yours just wants to have a little chat. Then you will be free to leave."
Harry conjured a blindfold around Fletcher's eyes and willed the ward around the statue away, next he grabbed Fletcher by the crook of the elbow and both men vanished.
Resistance HQ, Albus' Quarters.
Harry guided Fletcher to sit on a wooden stool that faced the lazyboy Albus was seated on. He conjured a backless chair of his own and sat down a meter away from Fletcher facing his side. Harry would let Albus take the lead in the questioning, since there was always a chance the thief could deduce who Harry was by the nature of the questions and by what he knew of Fletcher…as it was Harry thought that he had said too much by telling Fletcher how he had been identified.
Albus raised his wand and the blindfold vanished off Fletcher's eyes.
"Hello, Mundungus," said Albus genially.
"Dumbledore," said Fletcher in a disgruntled fashion. "Doing better I see."
"Ah yes, my powers and health are returning, thank you for your concern," said Albus with an eye twinkling grin. "And how have you been faring?"
"Busy," grunted Fletcher, folding his arms defensively and looking around the room.
"And just what have you been busy doing besides hiding from me and everyone else after you began treating Harry's inheritance with light fingered contempt?"
"Not much," said Fletcher, some anger leaking into his voice.
"A tiresome and lonely existence it is to hide from everyone," said Albus solemnly. "Not to mention…unprofitable."
"What do you want, Dumbledore?" said Fletcher pointedly, it seemed he was in no mood for the usual small talk Albus would engage in.
"Ah yes, time is of the essence, isn't it," commented Albus lightly. "To put it simply, I wish to extend you an offer. You can come out of hiding from me and my associates around the world, without fear of detainment, pursuit or prosecution from Ministries outside of Britain…you can start your life again in a country of your choosing…since I doubt you wish to remain on the Isles while all this unpleasantness is going on."
"And what do you want in return?"
"An item that may or may not be in your possession or you will at least know who has it," said Albus seriously.
"That's all?" asked Fletcher, looking suspicious and skeptical.
"Indeed, that's all I require of you," commented Albus.
"What item?"
Albus raised his wand and gave it a little twirl. Just above Fletcher's lap there was a slight flash of light and out of thin air a replica of Slytherin's Locket appeared hovering in mid-air, it began to slightly rotate to show the prominent 'S' on the Locket to the thief.
"Oh…that," said Fletcher and looked away from the replica hovering in front of him. Albus gave his wand another flick and the replica vanished.
"Where is it?" asked Albus simply.
"Why d'you want it?"
"You do not need to know," replied Albus with a slight trace of insistence in his voice. "This is a simple barter trade, your freedom…for this, not an exchange of information."
"That's a Founder's Heirloom, Dumbledore," snapped Fletcher in return. "Salazar wore that around his neck…it's value is almost priceless…"
"Freedom when it's not possessed is just as priceless, if not more so," countered Albus. Fletcher hesitated with his comeback for a moment. But Harry felt a flare of inward triumph…so Fletcher still had it.
"No…I'll only consider giving it…if you tell me why you want it…"
"Mundungus," said Albus softly, "that knowledge is too dangerous. Before I would even consider telling you the barest of facts I would require your Unbreakable Vow that you will not release this information." Harry was slightly surprised that Albus was willing to compromise in this fashion…but in retrospect, if the destruction of the second to last Horcrux required their revelation to Fletcher, then it was a risk worth taking. The Unbreakable Vow was an oath sworn on the powers and very life of a wizard…if the wizard violated the oath in any way it meant instant death.
Fletcher gazed shrewdly at Albus.
"This has something to do with You-Know-Who," stated Fletcher. Albus didn't answer nor did he allow his face to betray anything to confirm or deny Fletcher's statement. The thief stared at the old wizard for a long time and seemed to be debating something with himself while he was staring at Albus. Eventually, Fletcher sighed and look away from Albus' gaze…only to turn to Harry, "Be our bonder."
Harry was amazed that Fletcher would agree to an Unbreakable Vow…for a person in his profession it was unheard of…but there had been more than a battle of wills going on when the two elder wizards had stared at each other. Harry stood as Fletcher did and the thief joined his right hand to Albus' left, he placed his own hand just over the joined hands.
Harry nodded at Albus and with but a thought he brought forth his own power and reached out to the Universe around him as well…this would make the Oath even stronger.
"Will you, Mundungus Fletcher, conceal and protect the information I will give you after this Oath is cast, even under torture and pain of death?" said Albus seriously.
"I will," said Fletcher. There was a flash and from Harry's hand a thick band of blue power shot out and bound their hands…it lingered for a few moments and seemed to fade into their joined hands.
"So mote it be," said Harry, distorting his voice and withdrawing his hand.
"Well, Mundungus, I suggest you settle down," said Albus with a sigh as they broke the grip they had on each other.
Fletcher sat down and leaned forward to listen intently.
"The locket is simply…a key," said Albus carefully, it seemed as if he was carefully weighing each word before they left his mouth. "It is a key to the final destruction of Voldemort."
Fletcher shuddered visibly at hearing the dreaded name, but his eyes became as big as saucers as his mind comprehended what Albus said.
"What?"
"Slytherin's Locket was found many years ago by the wizard we would eventually come to know as Voldemort," explained Albus darkly. "And he enchanted it to carry a piece of his own soul, it became a Horcrux. They act as anchors that hold him tethered to this existence. If anyone managed to kill him now, his spirit would simply be disembodied to a spectral existence, much like a ghost…and all that would be needed was another restoration ritual and he would be back as if nothing had happened to him."
"You…you…you can't be serious Dumbledore…that's…that's beyond compare…horrible…it's not…" said Fletcher spluttering.
"You cannot base an Unbreakable Vow on a lie," said Albus calmly. "Before Voldemort can be finally conquered the Horcrux needs to be destroyed."
Fletcher suddenly looked frightened out of his wits and reached into his pocket to retrieve a small wooden box that had an ornate finish to it. The old thief's hands were shaking as he struggled to open what Harry saw was a box that was enchanted and keyed to Fletcher's own magical signature…a personal Strong Box of sorts. Finally the lid was opened and for a moment it looked like Fletcher would drop it…but he regained his grip and reached in and his entire hand disappeared into the box…clearly it had much bigger inner dimensions. The thief rummaged around inside and a hurried frustration began to appear on his face. His expression froze and suddenly he pulled his hand out and unceremoniously flung something to the floor.
Harry leaned down and picked it up. It was a heavy golden locket. He let it hang in the light from its chain and as the locket turned he could see the ornate, serpentine 'S' on its face. He gave a gesture with his other hand and the locket glowed a strong blue…there was indeed a soul bound to this.
"Are you done? Can I go now?" asked Fletcher gruffly.
"Hermione!" called Albus. She entered at a brisk pace wearing her gray robes. "Please blindfold Mundungus and escort him out." She pulled out her wand and after checking the visual obstruction to see if it was complete led him by the arm out of the room and closed the door behind her. "Allow me, Harry," said Albus gesturing to the Locket.
Harry wordlessly handed it over. "That was a rather ingenious use of his fear of Riddle. Any ideas on how to destroy it?"
"Each Horcrux is unique, the enchantments and protections on it differ greatly," said Albus, "Tom would do this purposefully to further thwart any wizard who realized what his protections against death were and managed to retrieve them. I have a lot of time on my hands and will begin research immediately into how it can be done. I suggest you rejoin your friends and continue your efforts at undermining Tom's hold on Britain in the meantime."
"Very well," nodded Harry, "but…when the time comes I must be the one to destroy it. Just be glad that my Healing device was capable of restoring your hand." Harry pointed to the limb in question. It had been gravely injured in Clone Harry's Sixth Year at Hogwarts, when Albus had retrieved Slytherin's Ring and destroyed the Horcrux that it contained.
Albus only nodded and began to study the Locket intently. Harry reluctantly left intending to find Neville so that they could plan their next move.