Harry Potter 1. A New Approach

_Choices.  
_

_Our whole lives consist of a series of choices._

_Each day is filled with literally thousands of them._

_Every choice we make has a consequence._

_We turn right not knowing what might have happened if we had turned left instead._

_We chose whether or not to betray a confidence of a friend knowing that if we do we may lose that friend._

_We chose whether or not to stand up to the darkness or to cower and hide from it hoping someone else will take it away._

_The only thing that is certain about any choice we make is that once we have made it there is no turning back._

_But there are those that believe that for every choice we make another universe is created where we made the other choice._

_Maybe there is even a universe where the ones we love are dead and where darkness prevailed...  
_

* * *

**ALTERNATE UNIVERSE**

**It has been eight years since the murder of Dumbledore in the Astronomy Tower at Hogwarts. Since then the Dark Lord has successfully gained power and is ruling over the land. Nearly all the original characters are dead or in prison except for Hermione who is now leading a resistance cell against the Dark Establishment. Until recently the Dark Lord thought Hermione was dead too but they have now discovered she is alive. This has forced Hermione's cell to get more extreme with their tactics and have decided to target the supporters of the Dark Lord. Their first target is Borgin.**

**Brian Gould has been chosen to carry out the assassination. This is his story...**

* * *

I looked down the street of Diagon Alley. Where once this was a happy place of magical commerce its stalls and shops now had a rather sullen feel to it all. It was a mild late afternoon but all the same I began to feel quite warm in the long jacket and long peaked hat that I was wearing to conceal my features. There at the end of the street lay what was now the biggest and most extravagant shop on the street, the new Borgin & Burke's. Ever since the Dark Lord had come to power five years ago the proprietor, Borgin, had profited greatly. He had moved from his dingy little shop in Knocturn Alley into the shop once occupied by the Weasley brothers. Then it was the grandest joke shop you ever did see. Now it was dark, menacing and looking rather run down since Borgin chose to increase his profits by refusing to hire help to maintain the place. Despite its size he was still the only person left in his business. This made him an excellent target for assassination.

* * *

THREE NIGHTS EARLIER

It was three nights ago back in the abandoned muggle school that served as our headquarters that we had decided to carry out this assassination. But even more significantly it was when we decided on our new campaign against the Dark Lord and his forces. The decision to up our game had not been an easy one but rather it had been forced upon us. Ever since they had discovered that Hermione, the last of Dumbledore's Army, was still alive and in our organization the Death Eaters have begun a frenzied search for our headquarters. As of yet we have remained hidden deep in the Welsh Valleys. But the general feeling now is that the best defense is a good offence. In short it meant that, for our part, the gloves were coming off.

"So we are agreed?" asked Luke. "Softly-softly is no longer an option."

We, the four leaders of our resistance cell, sat around a large coffee table in what was once the staff room of the Muggle School. I sat on one side of the short legged table leaning forward with my elbows resting on my knees. There was no other way out of this predicament. The only wizard the Dark Lord ever feared was Dumbledore and the possibility of one of his protégés surviving must have rattled him somewhat due to the excessiveness to which his men were searching for Hermione. No reward posters were displayed anywhere however since the Death Eaters didn't want the people to know she was alive because this would have given them a glimmer of hope.

"Agreed" added Gary.

"Brian?" asked Luke.

"Agreed" I responded. I looked over at Hermione sitting beside me. Her features were expressionless and her eyes were vague and almost empty.

"Agreed" she said almost in a whisper. I could read her face clearly even in the dim light of the little, practically windowless, room. She felt enormous guilt at the thought of what was happening to wizards and muggles across the country in the hunt for her and because of the danger that we were now in. I knew that she felt it was a poor way to repay us for her rescue. Until recently our actions had almost gone unnoticed by the Dark Establishment. Our assassinations and sabotage of low key targets was put down to vandals and ordinary troublemakers. Now they were aware of 'Hermione's resistance cell' and that meant that all of us now had a bounty on our heads. No point in going incognito any longer. Time to make a name for ourselves.

"So how shall we begin?" asked Luke.

"Well" I said. "I think you should get what you wanted. A high profile assassination."

"Who?" asked Gary.

"I have a few ideas of supporters of Death Eaters that we could hit" I explained. "Both Hermione and I have been discussing it and we believe that our best plan of action is to side step the Death Eaters directly and begin a campaign against their support infrastructure." Luke winced at the words 'Hermione and I'. He didn't like the fact that our relationship seemed to actually unbalance the decision making within the cell. I'm sure that it made him feel quite threatened. "We need to try to isolate them so that when we go after them directly no one will support them."

"Ok" said Luke. "Who?"

I looked back at Hermione with an approving glance to which she silently acknowledged with a slight nod.

"Borgin!" she said.


	2. The Bitter Reality

I stood in an alley adjacent to a shop on the far end of the street. I reached into my jacket pocket and felt around for the small vial of potion. I held it in my hand and looked at the green liquid inside. The vial was no bigger than the palm of my hand and sealed in by a small cork. I looked around and when I thought I was definitely alone I pulled out the cork. It made a small popping sound as it opened and I quickly downed the potion in one go. It had a strong and very bitter taste and I felt my face twisting in disgust. I waited a few moments until my face began to tingle. That was the sign that it was working. The potion was a development of the Confucius charm in liquid form. It was designed to confuse the features of my face to anyone who saw it. Even if a magical photograph was taken I couldn't be identified. The downside was that it was only effective for twenty five minutes.

Once I was sure that it was working I quickly marched up the street towards Borgin's. The street was now practically empty, it being so late in the afternoon, with only the odd shop still open and most of those were closing. I reached the door and walked in as casually as I could act so. I knew enough not to look around before entering. To do so would arouse the suspicion of an observant neighbour. I just had to hope that Hermione's potion was enough for me to enter without suspicion or identification.

I walked into the shop opening the door as quietly as I could so not to announce my presence and held it as it closed to prevent it from slamming. The shop was a testament to the Dark Arts and was filled with all kinds of potions and artifacts that just five years ago would have been almost taboo to discuss let alone sell openly. There was no one in the immediate location. I quietly began to walk around the shop. I made sure that my movements were confident but not brazen. To the casual observer I was just another wizard interested in the Dark Arts who had walked in off the street but secretly my eyes reconnoitered the whole shop. I was alone. Excellent! But where was Borgin?

* * *

THREE NIGHTS EARLIER

"Borgin! But he's just a shopkeeper!"

Luke's words rang out in an almost panicked voice.

"He's more than just a shopkeeper" I explained. "He has always been a source of supply to Dark Wizards for a long time and he is also a close friend and business associate of Lucius Malfoy."

"He also had a role to play in the assassination of Dumbledore at Hogwarts just before the Dark Lord came to power" added Hermione.

"Taking out Borgin will send a clear message to the Dark Establishment" I said. "We are going on the offensive and any supporters of Voldermort are legitimate targets. They need to know that if they side with them they become a target for us."

"Yeah?" uttered Gary wearily. "But if they side with us then they become a target for Voldermort."

I had already considered that but there was no other choice.

"If people openly and actively support the Dark Lord then they are targets" I explained carefully. "But people just going about their own business, well, that's another thing."

There was a short silence as both Luke and Gary thought about it for a moment. It was clear by the look on Luke's face that he was having problems about targeting a shopkeeper even one as colorful as Borgin

"Look!" I said. "We need to just come out and say it! We can't fight the Death Eaters on their grounds. We will lose. It's a simple issue of mathematics. They have more. A lot more. So we need to adjust our tactics. Because…" Even I found my words distasteful and I hated myself for saying it but it was no good tip toeing around the truth. "Because we aren't an army, we're…"

There was a short silence.

"Yes?" asked Gary with a vague expression.

"We're terrorists" murmured Hermione.


	3. The Weapon

Where the hell is he? My eyes began to move furiously around the shop. I estimated that I had used about seven and a half minutes of the potion and time was not slowing. Having made two patrols around the inside of the shop I was sure there were no customers but also no Borgin! I made my way to the front desk where I could see a dusty old service bell sitting on the counter behind which were a series of shelves with some tatty looking jars resting on them. If I can't find him he will have to come to me. I was less than a few meters away from the desk when I heard the shop door open loudly.

"Come on Creevey you mudblood annoyance!" screeched a woman's voice. "Let's get this over with as quickly as possible!"

"Y-Yes Lady Malfoy" stuttered a voice.

Damn!

I dived behind a large bookcase and peered through the gap in the shelves. It was Narcissa Malfoy. Wife of Lucius Malfoy, mother of Draco Malfoy and the face of what a wizarding wife ought to be in these unpleasant times. She dragged a rather frail looking young man by the arm that I recognized from some of Hermione's old school photographs as Colin Creevey. He's alive! Another of Dumbledore's Army was alive! She'll be thrilled to hear that. But what's he doing with Narcissa? In his hand was a magical camera. What ever it is it doesn't look voluntary.

"Service!" wailed Narcissa as she slammed the palm of her hand onto the bell repeatedly. "Service! Borgin!"

"Coming my Lady" croaked a voice up the stairs.

Borgin trod carefully down the steep staircase that lead to the rear of the shop his arms filled with several jars of assorted insects and crystals that seemed to vibrate of their own accord.

"Ah!" said Borgin spying Creevey who stood beside her like a child who had been told off by his mother for stealing sweets. "I see you have come to my humble establishment for some photo opportunity?"

"Yes!" sighed Narcissa. "Encouraging local businesses and all that. The wife of one of the highest ranking Death Eaters in the country should of course lead by example." Narcissa's voice was bored and hinted at having been rehearsed.

Eleven minutes since taking the potion.

"Did you have to bring that scum my Lady?" growled Borgin at Creevey.

"Oh yes" wined Narcissa. "Sadly a good photographer is hard to come by these days. So he will have to do. Well let's get on with it then!"

"O-Ok" stuttered Creevey. "If Mr. Borgin would hand you a jar of some Cursolon Weed and you hand him some Gold Galleons."

Twelve minutes!

Borgin stood behind the counter and placed the jars he was carrying onto the shelf behind him before reaching up for the Cursolon Weed. He turned towards Narcissa and the two of them got into a rather awkward looking pose that somewhat resembled a happy exchange between customer and shopkeeper. Narcissa's smile was not unattractive but her eyes were strangely dark black holes that, along with her crooked nose, ruined her feminine features. Borgin's face looked almost demented.

Thirteen minutes! Come on!

Creevey held up the camera and pointed it at the forced scene for Voldermort's propaganda machine. After focusing steadily at the two of them for a few seconds Narcissa's impatience seemed to be growing signified by her false smile beginning to droop at the corners of her mouth. There was a large flash and no sooner had the smoke began to rise from the camera Narcissa tightened up her cloak and made for the door with not so much as a word to Borgin or Creevey who quickly followed her with a submissively bowed head.

"Please come again my Lady!" croaked Borgin at the rapidly disappearing Narcissa.

Fourteen minutes.

Borgin's old and aching body limped in the trail left by Narcissa towards the door. He was closing up. Excellent! I unbuttoned the front of my jacket and reached in for the hidden pocket. Inside was where I kept my wand. Next to it was a small bag sealed with string on the top and containing a small amount of Floo Powder. And next to that was my weapon.

* * *

THREE NIGHTS EARLIER

The night had taken a certain distasteful flavor as Hermione's words sank in. Since we had formed this resistance cell we had an impression that our mission was a noble one. What greater mission was there than fighting evil wherever it may lie? Now with one word everything had changed. Terrorists! That was not what we had signed up for! The use of terror as a weapon was something we all associated as the trait of the Death Eaters. The very enemy we sought to destroy and yet here we were. About to adopt the very tactics we despised so much. After much self deliberation Luke turned to me and asked "How are we going to do it?"

"What about one of my Snitch Bombs that I've been working on?" suggested Gary still reeling from the thought of himself as a terrorist?

"No!" snapped Hermione. "Definitely not! If we bomb his shop there's a chance that innocent pedestrians could get hurt."

"And if that happens we give Voldermort's propaganda machine all the fuel it could ever want. They'd turn the people against us and they'd be right" I added. "No, we need to do it personally. But more to the point the Death Eaters need to know it was us who did it."

"Why?" asked a dazed looking Luke. "Isn't that inviting trouble? Isn't that what _you_ said we should avoid?"

"It was" I replied. "But I've come to realize that having them identify an act as being done by us does have a certain value to it."

"Oh?" said Luke.

Hermione sat forward to contribute.

"The Death Eaters understand only one thing" she said. "Fear! They know how to use it as a tool. They know how to get the best results from it. But fear is a two way street. When you put so much credit into the use of fear you leave yourself open to attack from your enemies using that very same weapon."

"Ok" said Luke. "So we take out Borgin and then what? Do we release a statement or something? How about a recording of Hermione?"

"No" I interjected. "Something more than that. Something that is going to both infuriate and scare them. We need to present ourselves as a faceless group. A spokesperson-type character only personalizes the organization. But if we remain in the grey in their own mind they will convince themselves we are just as brutal and as efficient and effective as they were when they were planning to topple the Ministry five years ago. That would scare them even more since they are now in the position of their own defeated enemy. And just to add a little something extra we need our own kind of…calling card if you like."

"You mean our own Dark Mark" spat Gary distastefully.

"Yes" I said trying to cover up my own disgust. Gary's head dipped to the side.

"You seem to have given this a lot of study Brian?" asked Gary to which I politely nodded. "But there's an old saying amongst the Wizarding world. He who studies evil eventually becomes evil. Will history remember us as being just as tyrannical as them or at least no better if we adopt their own tactics?"

"It's crossed my mind" I confessed. "But as long as the subject is being taught in a new Hogwarts under the next Dumbledore then quite frankly my conscience can live with it." Hermione reached out with her left hand to hold mine. She knew how much I didn't like this idea but it had to be done.

"So what are we going to use?" asked Luke.

"We need something that's really going to get them rattled" I said. There was a silence as we each thought of something we could use as our signature note before Hermione came up with the winning idea. Magic and metal.

"We've got guns!"


	4. Implementation

Borgin had just locked the door and closed the blinds before straddling back to the counter. I remained perfectly still behind the bookshelf. I now had only six and half minutes of the potion left and I would need every second of it to make my escape. Watching the frail old man leaning against the counter for support begged an air of sympathy from those ignorant of the truth but I put all sympathy behind me and I concentrated solely on the task at hand.

I moved my left leg which had become distinctly heavy. My heart was thumping in my chest. Even breathing became difficult as I approached him one careful step at a time. He had his back turned to me and this allowed me to close in on him without his knowledge but even so why was I this frightened? I had killed before, more times than I care to remember but always with my wand. The killing curse has only one saving grace. It is quick and painless. But this was different. Now I was using a muggle gun. Only once prior to this day had I turned a gun onto another human being. When we went to Cornwall to look for survivors of the Cornish resistance I had to shoot a man. But that was in the heat of battle when my life was at stake. This was totally different. I had planned to do this.

I reached into my jacket as quietly as I could and I felt around for the metal of the gun. My fingers slid over the grip of the handle and into position. Even though Gary had said not to until ready to fire, in my hyper anxious state I put my index finger into the trigger guard and it rested on the arching metal that was the trigger. Now just fifteen feet from the still oblivious Borgin I slid the gun out of my jacket and once it was clear my thumb pressed up on the safety catch and it was ready to fire. I stopped just nine feet from him and my right arm stretched outward in a perfectly straight ninety degree angle from my body.

My right eye looked straight down the top of the gun. The barrel was aimed squarely at Borgin's head. I knew that in a few seconds a bullet was going to rip through his head and kill him. It was a brutal procedure. Muggles are truly barbaric creatures to use such weapons. What a terrible way for a muggle to die. What bigger disgrace is there for a Pure Blood?

Suddenly Borgin looked up. He must have seen my reflection on one of the jars because he spun around on the spot quite suddenly. Looking down the barrel I saw his face about to gasp as I squeezed the trigger. There was a loud popping sound not too dissimilar to the sound one makes when apparating. The recoil of the gun vibrated up my arm. Borgin's body fell to the floor. Dead!

I dashed towards his fireplace, hiding the gun back in my secret pocket before taking out the Floo powder which I proceeded to throw into the fireplace. It burst alive with green flames and I quickly climbed into them.

"Three Broomsticks!" I declared. The flames engulfed me and I found myself whizzing through the Floo network passing several fireplaces until I tumbled out of one into a very crowded and noisy tavern. Only the odd one or two people even noticed my arrival. Steadily and as quickly as I could I made for the door, knowing that my potion was going to wear off in just a few seconds. Once through the door I was now standing in the deserted streets of dead London. With so much magic from Diagon Alley still active I could apparate back to the school without the worry of Death Eater Tracers.

Only members of our cell can apparate directly through the Wards and Charms that protect our headquarters from unwanted guests. I landed rather abruptly in the main hall of the old muggle school. I landed with a slap on the tiled floor which caught the attention of Hermione and Gary who were walking down the adjacent corridor. No sooner had I sat up Hermione had caught hold of me and held me tightly.

"Its done!" I said breathlessly to Gary. "It's done."


	5. The Daily Prophet

TWO WEEKS LATER

I picked up today's issue of the Daily Prophet. The title declared "Muggle Gun Murders now number 5." The bi-line said "An exclusive report by Rita Skeeter." I read on.

* * *

Citizens! A terrible darkness has fallen across our great wizarding world ("You got that right!"). In the past two weeks the heinous crimes committed by persons unknown that began with the tragic murder of Mr. Borgin, the proprietor of the very reputable Borgin & Burke's magical supplies of Diagon Alley, now number a total of five murders. Although the Auror Office has stated that these are the work of ordinary criminals unofficial sources within the Ministry of Magic have said they believe this to be the start of another 'terrorist' campaign not unlike the one seen in Cornwall during recent months that was recently quashed by the Ministry's forces. The perpetrators of these crimes have a very unique way of carrying out their vicious and unprovoked attacks. They use a muggle weapon called a gun.

"The persons responsible for these atrocities have no respect for wizarding life!"

Those were the angry words of Lucius Malfoy our benevolent Deputy Minister for Magic. Speaking from his home Mr Malfoy echoed the words of many in our world. "Mr Borgin" he said. "Was much more than a shopkeeper to me and my family. He was like family and as anyone who knows me will testify family is the most important thing to me as it is to all pure wizards. The muggle loving scum who carried out these attacks have no concept of such things and they must know that pure and honest wizards and witches everywhere will not tolerate this despicable behaviour."

As well as feeling the loss of a close and dear friend the murder of Mr. Borgin just two weeks ago has hit the Deputy Minister much closer than was first thought. It is believed his delightful wife Narcissa Malfoy, head of the Good Housewitch Movement, was in the shop just moments before the vicious and bloodthirsty attack took place. It was a deeply moving moment to see a man of such strong moral fibre as Lucius Malfoy have such pain in his eyes at the thought of what might have been had his wife not concluded her business with Mr. Borgin as early as she had.

The ferocity of the attack on Mr. Borgin is truly the trait of a coward. Mr. Borgin, a man of advanced years and a sickly posture nevertheless put up a heroic fight as he defended his business. Aurors investigating the murder stated upon completion of their investigation that the attackers killed Mr. Borgin with at least fifteen of the metal projectiles known as bullets that are fired by a gun but not before he fired off several jinxes and hexes at his attackers. Any honest wizard or witch cannot help but be saddened by the incident.

Sadly Mr. Borgin was only the beginning. Just two days later Mr. Flannigan of Tailor's Row in Surrey was murdered in his home. Mr. Flannigan was a respected member of the Muggle Management Guild and known for his charitable treatment of the Muggles who have been rescued by our benevolent Ministry for Magic from the horror of the Plague that has devastated the muggle world. The Auror Office, headed by Bartemius Crouch Jr, issued a statement that went into detail regarding the death of Mr. Flannigan. Many found this report disturbing but Crouch said that it was necessary that the people know what kind of criminals we are dealing with…

* * *

"What are you reading that crap for?"

Gary sat next to me in the Three Broomsticks Tavern holding a half empty glass of Butterbeer in his hand. I sat at the bar facing forward with the Daily Prophet in my hands. Gary stood several paces from me and facing the other way. The two of us did our best to appear as though we were strangers just enjoying a drink only speaking at random intervals.

"They're worried!" I uttered. "They are trying to hide it under all the phaff but…" I glanced around quickly. "If you read between the lines you can tell. They are worried."


	6. The Three Broomsticks

Both Gary and I sat in three Broomsticks. It had been almost two and a half weeks since we had killed Borgin. The tavern was half full of wizards enjoying a drink, if anyone really enjoyed anything anymore. Even here the feel of the Dark Lord's grasp could be felt. The atmosphere was as it was everywhere. The conversations amongst the patrons were heavily subdued. Everyone watched what they said for there was always a possibility that the Auror Office had planted listening charms within the building.

The only exception was a young woman wearing long pink robes that hugged her features tightly. She had strikingly long blonde hair from which a transparent veil hung to enticingly hide her face. She glided from group to group propositioning men with a ludicrously high price that they couldn't afford and so she moved on the next. She would glide to one group and spread a little joy as she convinced them of a good time and then left them disheartened when they couldn't afford her. Glancing up from my paper I watched her go to the bar after unsuccessfully propositioning another young man who very obviously could afford her company. She ordered two drinks from the barkeeper. As she leaned over the bar I couldn't help but glance at her allure to which Gary gave a strongly disapproving look to me before downing his Butterbeer.

As the barman filled the two small glasses with what looked like Fire Whiskey she looked around for another person to approach and caught my gaze. She gave me a slight smile as I returned to my paper. Gary downed the last of his Butterbeer before placing it loudly on the bar.

"Have fun" he uttered sarcastically as he began to leave.

She walked over and put the glass on the table in front of my paper.

"A man shouldn't drink alone!" she said, her voice soft and feminine and with a distinctly French accent.

"Then why don't you join me?" I suggested. "I've never drank with a Veela before."

"Oh!" she gasped. "You've found me out. But I'm only part Veela. Still it's enough."

"Enough for what?" I said with a smirk.

"To get what I want!" she said alluringly.

"Veela are known for getting what they want" I said. "They say no man can resist them."

"Since I'm only part Veela then I guess I can be resisted" she replied before feigning a frown.

"Well I wouldn't want to upset someone as beautiful as you now would I? How much?"

She leaned over and whispered into my ear. "Fifty Galleons!"

"Hmm!" I smirked. "Fair price. A little fairer than I'm sure you offered these other gentlemen."

"Don't flatter yourself" she said. "Let's just say I'm willing to take a cut on my profits tonight since business is so slow."

I looked her up and down in front of every man in the tavern, each of them watching with baited breath. I smiled lecherously before saying "Let's go!"

"Bring your drink" she said signalling to the glass that I hadn't even touched.

"Ok" I said as I picked up the Fire Whiskey and followed her towards the staircase that lead upstairs. "I didn't catch your name, Veela?"

"It's whatever it needs to be" she replied which caused the patrons to explode with laughter and chants. Following her up the stairs I could only imagine the disapproving thoughts Gary was no doubt having in his head right now.


	7. Gabrielle

She lead me to a room upstairs which had a small thin door. She opened it to reveal a boudoir of luxurious pink pillows arranged on the floor around an enormous bed with silk sheets surrounded by waving curtains. I walked in and marvelled at the finery having lived in near squalor at our headquarters for so long. The sounds of the Tavern downstairs could still be heard clearly through the door.

"Make yourself comfortable!" she said smiling. "But first I must insist on..."

"Oh!" I stuttered. "Of course." I put my drink on a small table beside a large illuminated mirror before taking my money bag out of my pocket. She counted every one of the Galleons as I put them down next to my drink one by one onto the table next to an array of perfumes and make up that I thought, having Veela blood, were unnecessary.

"Very good" she said satisfied it was the right amount. "Oh! There's too much noise! How can we get comfortable with all this racket?" She walked over to a drawer under the mirror and pulled out a small whistle. "This'll help!" She held it to her lips and blew into it. There was no sound from it. In fact there was suddenly no sound at all from outside the room. Handy things those Desonicators. Nobody can hear in or out. "That's better isn't it?"

It was perfect! We had both played our parts well for anyone who was watching. The Veela prostitute was in fact our cell's contact. She placed the Desonicator onto the table and looked back at me. Her smile dropped the moment she had silenced the room.

"How are you Gabrielle?" I asked.

"I'm good thank you" she said as she walked towards me. "I have the information you requested." She picked up the glass I had walked up with and drank the contents quickly, almost desperately, in one big gulp which caused her face to twist in disgust.

"What's the matter?" I asked thinking she was upset about something to which she rather angrily held up her hand to silence me. She took out her wand which was concealed up the sleeve of her robes and proceeded to tap the glass three times. Upon the third tap the empty glass began to change colour. It turned a rather dusty brown colour and continued to do so until it was no longer transparent. Then I watched as the sides thinned and a hole appeared in the bottom that grew larger and larger until it met with the sides. Within a few seconds the glass had become a rolled up piece of parchment.

"Here!" she said. "They are moving it tomorrow night. You will find details of the route they are taking and how many guards are accompanying it." I took the parchment off her as if it were made of solid gold. This was what we were hoping for.

"How reliable is the source?" I asked.

"Very" she replied. "Poor fool loves me. Tell him he's the greatest lover in the world and he'll tell you anything."

"Thank you so much" I said honestly as I stuffed it into the hidden pocket of my jacket where I kept my wand. "I know this must be hard for you. But…"

"Oh please" she said in disbelief as she stormed passed me across the room toward her bed. "I've been a whore long enough to know I'm only good for as long as I'm paid for. After that…"

"That's not true with us!" I said angrily as I grabbed her arm and pulled her around to face me. Even I was shocked at my anger but not as much as she was. She looked at my hand on her arm with a look of some discomfort. I don't think that it was because I was physically hurting her rather it was a case of it was usually a Death Eater client that treated her that way. "I'm sorry" I said as I let go.

"It's ok" she said with a smile of understanding.

"You are no tool to be used" I added.

"But I am convenient. Unless of course _you_ want to service a Death Eater? I have a little blue number that you'd look fabulous in" she chuckled. I didn't laugh. It was true that Gabrielle Delacour was a well placed and convenient contact with a somewhat unique access to the Death Eater guards at Malfoy Manor. She was extremely important to us in our resistance cell being able to pass on information that she had picked up from her clients. But somehow it just didn't seem right to use her this way.

"I told you before" I said. "If you want out we will get you out."

"That's sweet" she said, her English always having been better than her late sister Fleur's. "But I know my part to play. Speaking of which. I've meant to ask you something."

"Oh?" I said. She walked over to her mirror and sat down in front of it before proceeding to brush her long hair. "What's that?"

"Are you the ones that are doing the killings?" she asked. "The ones the Daily Prophet are calling the Muggle Gun Murders?"

I thought for a moment before answering but I suspected my pause probably gave me away.

"Yes" I replied. We trusted Gabrielle enough to tell her the truth. "Is that a problem?"

She chuckled slightly. She stopped brushing her hair for a moment and turned to me.

"You know better than that" she declared.

For all her finery and her skill of almost forcing a man to fall in love with her that her Veela heritage afforded her I knew that deep inside harboured a troubled young woman. Her sister was the famed Fleur Delacour, the Beauxbatons Tri-Wizard Champion of several years ago. Later Fleur became engaged to Bill Weasley as well as become a member of Dumbledore's Army. On the morning of their wedding Fluer was kidnapped by three unknown Death Eaters. Her abused body was found a few days later. Gabrielle had sworn revenge ever since and found a tool in her looks and charm to find those responsible. She was committed enough to let the bastards touch her in the most intimate ways. How she coped with it I shall never know.

She returned to brushing her hair. "You've really got them all wound up you know? They're coming after you with everything they got."

"We knew that was a possibility" I added. "Do they suspect it's our group doing the killings?"

"I don't know. Possibly. Hermione having muggle parents and the fact your using a muggle weapon it's not going to be long before they put two and two together and…" Suddenly, in a moment of realisation, she paused. "My God!" she gasped. "So that's why they're sending him!"

"Who?" I asked curiously.

"A man you should be very afraid of" she replied sadly.

"Who?" I said angrily rushing up to her.

"Caleb Byars" she stated matter-of-factly.

"Never heard of him?" I said truthfully.

"He's rarely spoken of outside the Death Eaters ranks" she explained. "He's one of the top Aurors at the Ministry. He's ruthless and cruel. Rumour has it that he and Crouch Jr. don't exactly see eye to eye and that Byars wants to replace Crouch as head of the Auror Office. My clients believe that he's is going to use the situation you've created to help make that happen. And he has a lot of support."

"Such as?"

"Lucius Malfoy!"

"Really?" I gasped.

"The word is that Malfoy isn't too pleased with Crouch's handling of the investigation" she explained. "He thinks he's being too soft."

"Disappearances and torture is too soft?" I spat angrily.

"You wanted to make an impact on the Death Eaters" she said. "Looks like you got it."

It didn't bode well with me that our actions may result in someone worse than Crouch taking over the Dark Aurors of the Ministry. But we couldn't break off now. We were building up a good momentum and we had to keep it going with the long term hope of spurring a popular uprising. I tried to put it behind me and that's when I remembered something.

"We heard that your party lost one the last time you were up there at Malfoy Manor?" I asked.

She stopped again. She put the brush down as a wave of emotion run over her.

"Yes" she said sadly. "Cassie."

"Which one of them did it?"

"Not one of her clients" she said. "It was Pansy Malfoy."

"Pansy! Draco's wife?"

"Yes" she said. "She didn't like the way Cassie used to look at him. Thought she might tempt him away from her. She burst into the guardroom where we all were. She dragged Cassie into the middle of the room and began to torture her with the Cruciatus curse. She did it infront of all of us to make sure that the rest of us whores didn't have any similar ideas of going after her precious Draco. She did it for about half an hour. Cassie gave out screams I never thought possible. Those Death Eater bastards actually enjoyed it! Of course we had to hide what we were all thinking as we watched. She wouldn't let anyone leave. All because she knows deep down that Draco doesn't love her. Cassie was just an outlet for her frustration." It was no secret that Draco Malfoy's marriage to Pansy Parkinson was one of convenience more than love. The son of the Deputy Minister of Magic had to marry a girl from a 'respectable' family of pure bloods and given his past relationship with Pansy she seemed the perfect girl. What a wonderful headline it made on the front page of the Prophet; Son of Deputy Minister for Magic marries school sweetheart. But it was clear to even the most ignorant that Draco never returned Pansy's unquestioning love. "She didn't even finish her with the Killing curse. Just tortured her until her body just gave out. I kept wondering if that's what they did to Fleur?"

"You can't be thinking like that" I said. "Let your emotions cloud you and you'll lose sight of the goal."

"I'm not" she said almost convincingly. "But I haven't forgotten our agreement either!"

"I know" I replied. The agreement I had made with Gabrielle almost a year ago was one that I despised because it was born out of the worst possible reason – Revenge! "Are you any closer to finding them?"

"Not yet" she replied. "It's been a few years so it's proving difficult to trace anyone who might know." She stood up and faced me. She looked deep into my eyes examining them for even the slightest bit of hesitation or deception before asking "Promise me here and now! If you _are_ the gun killers then when I find the ones who raped and murdered my sister on her wedding day I want you to help me put a bullet in their heads. Promise me! No! I want more than that now. I think I've earned it with what I've given you on that parchment. Swear on your, no, Hermione's life that you will help me exact my revenge."

My blood seemed to run cold. That was unfair. How could I swear on Hermione's life? It would be easier on my own. But as I looked into her heart broken and obsessed eyes I knew that she meant it and would accept nothing less.

"I swear" I said grudgingly. "On the lives of me and Hermione that when we find your sister's killers that I will help you get your revenge."

Her chin wrinkled as she filled with emotion, the first genuinely heart felt emotion I had seen all evening from her. It lasted barely a few seconds before she composed herself and the act of being a whore returned. She looked over to the bed before looking back at me.

"There's nobody else here you know?" she said smiling enticingly.

"Stop it Gabrielle!" I uttered.

"Nobody would know and you have already paid. It'll be our little secret." She started to run her fingers on my chest.

"I said stop it!" I growled as I pushed her hand from me.

She didn't like to be refused. I could see it in her face. I'm sure she saw it as a sign of weakness that she could be resisted and I knew that her whole act of coming onto me was merely to hone her skills of seduction and nothing else. Maybe she saw me as a challenge? Whatever it was I was not going to cooperate.

She took a few steps back. Suddenly as I looked at her she seemed to change in front of me. She was no longer the beautiful part-Veela that I had walked into this room with. She now had a look that I often saw in the mirror some days. She now had the eyes of a killer. There was no doubt in my mind that she meant to carry out what she had sworn to do and is stood. The speed at which her emotional state had changed made me uneasy.

"We're done here" she said signalling to the door. This was no longer the woman I had come to see. This was another terrifying person altogether and I was only too glad to leave that individual there. I glanced at her eyes as I turned to leave trying to find just a hint of the young woman I knew as Gabrielle Delacour but she was gone. She had been replaced by yet another victim of these unholy times. I didn't even say good bye to this new person. I had got what I had come for.


	8. The Ambush

I lay on my front hidden in the undergrowth beside the old tarmac road. Wrapped around my left hand was my Sneakoglobe that Hermione had given me and poised ready in my right was my wand. The ground around me sloped down toward it and was well hidden by trees, roots and dead leaves that were allowed to grow freely now that there weren't any muggles in this part of Yorkshire to interrupt nature retaking this piece of land. Very few travelled this road anymore but we knew that tonight there would be a carriage coming through here. The Death Eaters were moving supplies and personnel around on the ground due to the risk of attack by Dementors that were now patrolling the heavens freely and uncontrolled since the destruction of Azkaban prison several years ago. This played well into our plans. I quietly sat waiting. I knew that Gary, Luke and Hermione were nearby and that everything was ready for the ambush. All we need do was wait. But that was almost unbearable. I've always hated having to wait especially over important things.

We were positioned at a point along the road we felt offered the best cover for an ambush. Once we had taken position we set about concealing ourselves amongst the foliage using netting that we each conjured from our wands. It was a cool, dark night with a thankfully obscured three quarter moon. As one final touch we each wore black woollen balaclavas since using any magical aid might give away our presence to any Tracers.

It's always amazed me how much you want to move when you're not supposed to. It's the child's photograph syndrome I guess? If you ask a child to sit still for just two minutes for a photo they automatically do their best to fidget and fuss over everything. It's just not a natural thing for a human to do I suppose?

As I continued to lay in wait my eyes began to wander away from the road out of boredom. I looked over at where Hermione was concealed. She was closest to the road. She had to be for her role during the attack. Her participation in this attack was the source of much debate between us. I protested until I was blue in the face. I continually pointed out that she could best serve us by remaining at headquarters. She was without a doubt the brains of our operation and to risk her in the field was in my view poor management of resources. The truth was however that her participation in this ambush would mean my mind was not fully on the task since part of it was concentrated on protecting her even though she was perhaps a better witch than I, as a wizard, could ever hope to be and could ably take care of herself. Thus my objections were quite loudly overruled.

I examined her camouflage carefully to ensure that she was as well concealed as she could be but as my eyes struggled to find fault I began to realise she was probably hidden better than I was. She is a clever one. I looked down at the Sneakoglobe she had made for me not long after we had met. This little crystal orb no bigger than a marble had saved my life countless times. I kept it close to me so that if anyone was closing in on me without my knowledge it would alert me and foil any surprise attack. Ingenious the way it works I thought. But then again I'd expect nothing less from her. It works using passive magic, a tricky energy at the best of times but here it was in solid form in my hand. Whenever someone in the immediate vicinity feels hostility directed towards me the negative emotions that person radiates in my direction causes the crystal to change colour. It goes from a brilliant white to a dark black. Right now it was perfectly clear.

What's that!?

I could hear something. My heart pounded deep in my chest. The boredom was gone replaced by deep anxiety. Something was coming up the road. Did I imagine it? No! There it is distinctly, the sound of a horseless carriage moving towards our position. It's them. They're coming! My breathing quickened. My eyes raced up and down the road checking for any advanced element that we had missed but there was none. They can't be expecting an attack. Why should they? They weren't aware that Gabrielle was providing us with information. Unless of course they found out whom she really was? What if we're the ones being set up? Her information was extremely detailed. Maybe this is a trap? No! Now I was just getting paranoid.

The carriage seemed to take forever to come into view but there it was. The enchanted carriage would no doubt look bizarre to a muggle seeing that it was pulling itself. The carriage was a finely polished black. It rode on four large wheels and appeared quite a squashed design. Sitting up front were two Death Eater guards in long black robes. Another two sat on a bench at the rear. It was upto Hermione now. The carriage continued on further getting closer all the time. Any second now!

The carriage rode straight into the trap we had set. It was suddenly gushed in a flash of red light as the Stupefy Bomb detonated. The four Death Eaters were blasted unconsciously away from their mounts and landed rather aggressively on the ground or against a tree. The four of us burst out from our hiding places. I knew I should have been watching the Death Eaters that had fallen but my eyes kept track of Hermione who jumped in front of the now passenger less carriage. She held out her wand and yelled "Immobulus!"

The tip of her wand glowed as it magically brought the carriage to halt just yards from her and I breathed a sigh of relief as I made for the rear of the carriage with Luke. Wands drawn we proceeded towards the fallen Death Eaters. There were two on either side of us. With Luke on my right we cautiously walked forward to inspect them as Hermione and Gary proceeded into the carriage. I distinctly heard Gary unlocking the carriage with his wand before storming into it. From the outside the carriage was small but internally it was magically stretched to accommodate its hefty cargo and I looked back to see the two of them disappear inside. As I had requested him to, without anyone else's knowledge especially hers, Gary went in before Hermione to check that there were no guards inside.

The first Death Eater on my left had hit his head rather hard onto a tree as he was blown from the carriage. His neck was broken. I looked at Luke on my right inspecting the other Death Eater who had sat up front. He kicked the Death Eater's wand away from him and reached down to check the pulse on his neck. After a few moments Luke turned to me and nodded. This one was alive. I nodded slowly back at Luke in a manner that said silently 'You know what to do!' Luke gave me a begrudging look before he reached into his robes and pulled out an old revolver. We had to make sure that they knew it was us who had carried out the attack and not some Highwaymen. He cocked the hammer back and put it to the Death Eater's head. There was a loud crack as the gun fired killing the Death Eater. We then moved onto the two who were sitting at the rear of the carriage. Both were sprawled along the edge of the road just a few feet away. The one on the left to whom I was approaching was lying on his back and beginning to stir slightly so I reached in for my own gun, a Russian repeater, and removed the safety. I took aim at his forehead just as his eyes began to open. His last sight was of him being killed by an instrument of muggles. Once again the shot rang out through the darkened forest. As my gun lowered I turned in time to see Luke shoot the last one. It was done.

I turned back towards the carriage. Standing next to rear wheels of the carriage was Hermione. Her balaclava was lifted up over her head to reveal her rather shocked looking face. She had seen us shooting them. I was so angry with her for that. She knew that I had killed several times before but she was never there to witness it and yet here she was watching me shooting helpless people. Ok these were Death Eater scum and had probably done far worse but the point remained the same. Maybe this was the real reason I never wanted her in the field with us? Or maybe it was my own guilt manifesting itself in her face.

I seemed to charge towards her. Her eyes kept fixed on the nearest dead Death Eater. As I got close to her I tried to figure out what she was feeling at that moment. Was it disgust? Was it sorrow? I just didn't know. Even as I was standing almost directly in front of her she kept her gaze on the Death Eater's body.

"Have you found it?" I asked. She blinked suddenly as if for the first time in a long while and then tore her gaze away from the body.

"Yes" she said almost breathlessly.

"Then let's go!" I said brushing passed her but she didn't listen. She turned her eyes back towards his body. When I saw she wasn't following me I angrily tugged on her arm. "Come on! What did you think we were doing?"

"I know" she said.

"It doesn't matter if we use a gun or a wand the result is still the same!" I spat angrily at her although it was more aimed at myself for letting her see it.

She finally tore herself away and we proceeded back toward the carriage door. Both me and Luke helped Gary remove a large padlocked box that was about six foot long, three feet high and wide. Once it was on the road I nodded to Hermione who raised her wand.

"Are you sure this is safe?" asked Gary.

"Yes" replied Hermione confidently as she held up her wand towards the box. "Reducio!" Upon Hermione's command the box began to shrink down until it was now the size of a matchbox. I walked forward and picked it up before placing it in my pocket.

"Alright" said Luke. "We got what we came for. Now let's just get the hell out of here!"

Within a few seconds I could feel my body being squeezed as if it were being forced through a large tube as was the experience of apparating leaving the bodies and the carriage on the dark road.


	9. The Package

"Engorgio!"

Hermione reversed her shrinking spell on the box in the staff room back at the muggle school that was our resistance headquarters. Luke had gone to find Tarquin, our cell's Mediwizard.

"Well then" said Gary. "Let's get it open shall we?" He raised his wand at the now full size box. "Alohomora!" The padlock sprung open and with me and Hermione watching with our own wands drawn in case there was some nasty surprise inside Gary stepped forward and lifted the top off the box. "Bingo!" he said as the lid of the box fell off the other side. Both Hermione and I peered into the box. I looked up at Hermione who was smiling ever so slightly as if she was afraid to believe it was true.

"Colin!" she whispered softly.

Inside the box was the Petrified body of Colin Creevey. We had known he was alive for about three weeks now ever since I saw him in Borgin's with Narcissa Malfoy and since then we had drawn up plans to rescue him. As well as being a former member of Dumbledore's Army he could hopefully tell us something about what was going on behind the closed doors of the Malfoy's.

Hermione put away her wand and kneeled down beside the box as she tenderly reached in with her right hand. Resting her elbows on the edge she gently placed her fingers on his frozen right hand and smiled as a small tear began to run down her face. It was as if to touch him made it more real for her. Until now I'm sure that the possibility that there was another one of her comrades from Dumbledore's Army still alive was just clutching at straws and yet here was the physical proof.

I stood beside her and placed my hand on her left shoulder. She raised her own left hand and held on to mine all the while keeping her eyes fixed on his face. He had a somewhat blank expression that didn't seem to give away any real emotion. I figured that he must be so used to being put like this that he was ready for it this time hence the near perfect posture he was in within the box.

Luke and Tarquin appeared in the doorway. Tarquin was a white haired man in his early sixties. His voice was croaky and old sounding but his temperament was often fiery. He was a truly committed healer. The reason he was in hiding with us was for being caught treating an injured muggle. Fortunately we got to him before the Death Eaters did and now he works out of our headquarters treating the needy whomever they maybe – muggle, wizard, witch, Death Eater(!) although like many Doctors his bedside manner left a lot to be desired.

In Tarquin's hand was a small bottle which I assumed contained Mandrake extract, a vital component in treating someone who has been Petrified.

"Oh yes!" croaked Tarquin as he inspected Creevey's body. He brushed me and Hermione aside as if we were some boxes that were just in the way and reached in. He began to check for any signs of a pulse or anything that might indicate that the petrification was not complete. If that was the case then the Mandrake extract could actually do him more harm than good. "Ok! Everybody out! I got a long night ahead of me. Somebody better get me some coffee too."

"I'll do it!" laughed Gary.

"Come on 'mione" I said. "Let's get some rest. I think we've earned it."


	10. A Difficult Night

A few minutes later and me and Hermione retired to the classroom that served as our bedroom. Exhausted from the rush of adrenaline that came from the ambush we both seemed to fall on top of the blanket. It was good to just relax again. The anticipation of the ambush had occupied my mind all day and even though it went perfectly the fear of what might have happened had still been ringing in my mind since our return. Now as the two of us lay side by side I could just let everything go. I reached over for her to tuck in under my left arm and she rested her head on my shoulder. I looked down at her face and saw her eyes close shut. No doubt she is feeling the same as me right now. Perhaps even more so! We…Ok…_I_ seldom let her come on operations with us. But I had little choice in this one. And nobody could deny that she had done well.

Her arm reached out and spread over my chest. She breathed deeply as she got comfortable and suddenly she opened her eyes almost as if startled.

"Oh!" she giggled gently. "I nodded off slightly then?"

"It's been a big day huh?" I said stating the obvious.

"Yeah" she replied almost in a whisper.

"Bet you're glad to see one of your old friends again huh?" I asked.

"We weren't really that close" she explained settling back down. "We were both in Gryffindor and the DA but that's about it. He was more of Ron's friend really."

This was a rare moment between us. She hardly ever spoke about Ron. All I knew was that they were close before the end but that was it. I held her tighter as if subconsciously afraid she was going to disappear. Talking about anything to do with Ron Weasley was awkward for me and no doubt difficult for her.

"Do you still think of Ron?" I asked almost having to dare myself to do so. There was no reply. I began to worry. Had I crossed a line I shouldn't have perhaps? "Hermione?" I looked down. She was fast asleep. I didn't know whether or not I had just dodged a bullet but I did feel that this was something we needed to get out for our own sakes. He may have been dead for over three years but it was like he was still lingering around us like some restless spirit. Part of me looked forward to laying it all to rest. But another part of me feared what the truth might be. I tried to put it to the back of my mind as I relaxed on the bed. That was a conversation for another day. For now, I was just going to rest.

There was loud bang in the middle of the night. It was a sound I had grown all too familiar with. It was the sound of a gunshot. I found myself running through the darkened corridors of our headquarters looking for the source of the sound. I checked the main hall, the gymnasium (that doubled as our training room), the canteen. My heart raced as I ran terror stricken back and fore. Where was everyone? We were a cell of twenty five people living in what was once a small rural school. I should be able to find at least one member! Suddenly there was a woman's voice crying in the distance. It was coming from our room. Hermione! I have never known such fear as I had at that point and my legs could not run fast enough. As I approached the classroom the crying stopped but worse still, in my haste, I had forgotten my wand! I was defenceless but it didn't matter. I ran into the classroom and found her laying with her back to me sleeping soundly. I breathed a sigh of relief as I walked towards her. I sat on the edge of the bed and reached over to wake her.

"Hermione!" I said loud enough to wake her but not so loud as to startle her. "Hermione!" There was no answer. I reached over to shake her awake. As my hand touched her she rolled onto her back. Her eyes were open staring blankly and in her forehead was a very neat bullet hole. She was dead!

I bolted upright in bed. My body was layered in a cold sweat and I fought a desperate battle to catch my breath. My heart beat so hard that my chest seemed to ache. I wiped the sweat from my face as I tried to focus. It was a dream. Thank God! It was a dream. I looked to the side and saw Hermione curled up beside me in a deep sleep with her bushy brown hair covering her face. I now knew it was only a dream but for reasons that escaped me I had to brush her hair aside and be sure. All that was underneath was her soft and undamaged skin. Even better was the fact that she stirred slightly as I brushed her aside. She was ok. I felt my breath finally slowing down to a more manageable pace.

I climbed off the top of the blankets where we had fallen asleep and as quietly as I could walked out of the room leaving her rest. I went into the toilets and turned on a tap before throwing a handful of cold water over my face. As the water cooled my face I leaned on the rim of the sink staring into the plug hole. The thought of losing her cut me like a knife. I looked up and saw my reflection in the mirror. _You need to get a grip_ I thought. Looking at my reflection I began to surmise that the dream was no doubt the last remnant of my concern for her joining us on our rescue mission. But maybe it was more than that? Maybe it had more to do with the fact that she had seen with her own eyes what we were doing? Using these guns for assassination was horrific. Maybe it was not so much her disgust but my own reflected in her?

I had failed to notice that the end cubicle was occupied. The toilet flushed and the door creaked open. Tarquin opened the door and walked over to the sink next to me to wash his hands. His eyes held very large and tired bags beneath them.

"Trouble sleeping?" he croaked.

"Yeah" I uttered.

"Creevey's awake!" he said before walking out silently.


	11. Hermione's Wakeup

Later that morning I walked back into the bedroom with a cup of coffee for Hermione made just the way she liked it, strong but not too sweet. I placed it on the small table next to our bed and sat next to her. I had been awake for at least three hours since the dream. As I sat there looking down at her sleeping soundly, still wearing her clothes from yesterday, the images of it still lingered in my thoughts. Strange how something as insignificant as a dream can so seriously affect your conscious state of mind.

I nudged her gently and she began to awaken. She raised her eyelids open and blinked out the sleep still in her eyes. I would have liked to have left her sleep but I knew that she would want to see Colin. Her eyes drifted around the room as she sought to focus before settling on me.

"Hey!" she uttered sleepily.

"Hi" I said. "Here I made you a coffee." I picked up the cup and held it out for her.

"Oh, thanks!" she said as she lifted herself up off the bed and settled her body against the wall before taking her coffee and gently blowing into the piping hot drink to cool it. "What time is it?"

"It's almost seven thirty" I replied. "Creevey's awake." The words seemed to snap her fully awake.

"Have you spoken to him yet?" she asked excitedly.

"No not yet, Tarquin is still with him in the staff room. He still isn't a hundred per cent but it shouldn't be long now. He's been awake for about three and a half hours but it appears he has been Petrified for so long the healing process is taking longer than Tarquin thought."

Hermione nodded in acknowledgement before taking another sip of her hot coffee.

"How long have you been up?" she asked as if suddenly realising that she had been asleep without me for a short while at least.

"Not long" I said sensing there being no purpose in telling her about the dream. "How's the coffee?"

"Perfect!" she uttered with a smile. There was a short pause as she drank her coffee. I watched as the beverage ran down her neck before noticing that she was staring intently back at me. "Is something wrong?" Perhaps it was written all over my face or perhaps I was just a poor actor but either way she knew something was bothering me. It was not like me to get up before her. Usually we both woke up around the same time even when just one of us was exhausted let alone both of us. I shook my head in a vain attempt to throw her off but she continued to stare accusingly at me. I knew it was useless to keep up the pretence. She knew me too well for that.

"It's nothing honest" I said admitting that there was something on my mind but not wanting to go into detail.

"Well if it's nothing then you can tell me then isn't it?" Hermione continued her de facto interrogation and my partial confession had only encouraged her to press further for more details. "Has it got anything to do with tomorrow's operation?"

"Huh? Oh! I'd almost forgotten about that" I said truthfully.

"Then what is it? More nightmares?"

"What?!" I gasped. How did she know?

"I didn't want to say anything" she added softly. "But you've woken me up at least four times over the past two weeks from having nightmares."

"Two weeks?" I said taken aback. "I didn't know but then again I seldom recall dreams do I?"

I stared blankly into the corner of the room trying to assimilate this new information. Two weeks! Maybe this was worse than I thought?

"What were you dreaming about?" she asked after taking another sip of her coffee. "It must have been bad for you to wake up from it?"

"It's nothing" I interjected. "It was just a dream." How could I possibly tell her that i had dreamt of seeing her dead body? No! No matter how much she was going to push me I wasn't going to tell her. It wouldn't be fair to her and I loved her too much.

"Sometimes it helps to talk" she added.

"No!" I shot back. "No!"

"Ok. Well if you want to talk about it..." I sensed that my reluctance to talk to her had somehow upset her. It was not like the two of us to be closed about something as trivial as a dream. Nevertheless I quickly moved the subject on.

"Why don't you drink that then take a shower before we see Creevey?" I suggested to which she politely nodded.


	12. Colin Creevey

It was a short while later when we went to see Creevey. He was still sitting in the staff room with Tarquin. I walked in through the door and stood just ahead of the doorway. The small childlike young man was perched in one of the chairs up against the adjacent wall. He sat with his head lowered submissively with his arms dangling nervously between his legs, his eyes only occasionally daring to glance around the room. Tarquin was sitting next to him talking as compassionately to him as he could, Creevey only mumbling a few answers back to him which were so quiet I couldn't make out exactly what was being said. The two of them continued as if I wasn't in the room.

All that changed when Hermione came in behind me just a few moments later. Creevey's eyes seemed bulge outward in surprise at the sight of her standing next to me. His whole expression changed as a potent cocktail of emotion ran over him. He seemed to burst into life as he struggled to move.

"H-Herm-ione" he stuttered as tears filled his eyes. He tried desperately to get to his feet but only stumbled slightly. Hermione's eyes filled as she rushed towards him. Kneeling down in front of his chair she took hold of him and held him tightly as he cried bitter sobs into her right shoulder. She very gently stroked his untidy blonde hair as she comforted him. Tarquin left the two of them and walked over to me.

"Well?" I asked in a subdued voice. "How is he?"

"Physically" said Tarquin in an equally low tone with his back to Hermione and Creevey. "He seems in reasonably good health. When I examined him I found traces of physical abuse and whoever did the healing was either a pitiful excuse for a Mediwizard or…"

"Just didn't care!" I interjected to which Tarquin nodded in acknowledgment.

"However the mental damage is more severe" continued Tarquin. "He will only speak when spoken too and he seems afraid to do anything of his own accord."

"They broke him!" I said mournfully looking at the young man still holding onto Hermione so tightly it was as if she would disappear if he let go. As I watched it suddenly occurred to me that we were being clumsy by just accepting him at face value. No matter how believable there was always the possibility this was a trap. "Have you checked for traces of Polyjuice potion or transfiguration?"

Tarquin looked up at me with a hint of disgust in his eyes at the seeming lack of compassion in my question.

"Always the soldier hey Brian?" he said. Tarquin was indeed a gifted Mediwizard but on more than one occasion we had both said some rather distasteful words to each other in many a heated argument. It was no secret that Tarquin wanted no part in the Resistance or with the Death Eaters. I think in a way he saw himself as superior to either side, at least morally, since he saw no distinction between us and them. In his mind we were both killers but at least with us there was a chance for life to go on. Nevertheless I always felt his assistance was given somewhat grudgingly. "Yes" he croaked. "I have! And no. I found no traces of any form of physical deception. I also asked him a few of the questions that Miss Granger had prepared for me to be sure and yes it is him."

As I listened to him part of me felt that even if he had discovered something he wouldn't tell us because he knew what we would have to do in that situation. Tarquin gave me look that said he knew what I was thinking.

"Now if you'll excuse me" he said brushing passed me. "I'm going to get some rest. Call me if there's any significant changes. Oh and get him to eat something too."

"Thank you for your work" I said through gritted teeth.

"You really want to thank me!?" spat Tarquin turning suddenly on the spot back towards me. "Don't you dare think about having that boy out in the field. He is not a soldier! He is not a source of intelligence! He is just another victim! I know that you didn't rescue him out of compassion. I know that the only reason you went to all that trouble was to learn what he has learned whilst being imprisoned at the Malfoy's. He is just another convenient factor in your little uprising. And if you want to use him for any other purpose then I will withhold my services."

"I sometimes wonder which side your on?" I spat back angrily. Tarquin looked at me bitterly.

"I'd think we should all be on the one side that any of us should give a damn about" he said. "Life!" He turned around and continued back down the corridor towards his room.


	13. Breakfast

I had left Hermione and Colin alone in the staff room. It was clear he wasn't upto telling us anything yet so I went to get some breakfast. It was coming up close to eight thirty AM and I was now beginning to feel the effects of a broken sleep. Rummaging through the cupboards of our kitchen that was once the canteen of the school nothing really took my fancy so I picked up an apple from a bowl in the corner. Leaning up against the counter I sliced a piece off. Balancing the piece on the blade I lifted it upto my mouth and consumed it in an almost uninterested fashion. As I chewed on the segment of apple the words that Tarquin had said ran through my mind. Part of me was angry at him. Was he so naive to believe that everyone should just be able to play nice and get on? That's not the real world! That's not _our_ world.

My train of thought was interrupted by a sleepy eyed Luke who seemed to trundle in wearing a two piece set of blue pyjamas. He yawned deeply as he scratched the back of his head causing his bushy hair to flap back and fore.

"Morning!" he said as he walked over to make a pot of coffee.

"Morning" I acknowledged as I sliced off another piece of the apple and ate it. "Creevey's been depetrified. Hermione's with him now. Poor sod's in a hell of a state." Luke's head swung around at me in surprise as if through a heavy night's sleep he had forgotten about Creevey.

"What have you learned from him?" he asked now fully awake.

"Nothing yet" I explained. "I think we should give him an hour or two until he's ready to talk to us. I think he's still adjusting."

"Brian!" said Luke. "Every minute that passes makes his information that much out-of-date. We need to know what he knows now while it is still of use to us."

"Look!" I said turning to face him. "He's been through a lot and..."

"We've _all_ been through a lot! What makes him so different?" I felt enormous anger aimed at Luke. It was not that he was wrong. On the contrary he was quite right in everything he was saying and I think that was what was winding me up so much. It was the fact that Luke was speaking the words of reason no matter how distasteful they were and yet I could picture Tarquin's disapproving face looking at me like some disappointed father. "He has had unique access to the Malfoy's. We know he has been around Narcissa Malfoy and possibly even Lucius. The things he may have overheard could be invaluable to us. But the longer we wait the less accurate the information he could have becomes. By now they must have realised that the ambush was aimed at rescuing him. And you know what that means! They are probably already trying to figure what he knows to try and limit the potential damage. I don't want all this effort to go to waste and I don't think you do either. Do you Brian?"

I felt an enormous lump in my throat. It was true. We had gone to a lot of effort to rescue this person. Firstly we risked exposing Gabrielle. If she were discovered bringing information to us I dread to think what they would do to her. I don't think she would reveal us under interrogation, at least not deliberately. There were magical methods with which to get information out of someone but the Death Eaters preferred more direct methods of getting what they wanted. Sick bastards! Then there was the resources we used in the actual attack. It was not a simple thing for us to replace potions. We were an underground resistance cell. We cant just simply walk into a magical store like Borgin's and just pick up what we needed. Then of course there was the direct risk to us. Any attack we launch could in fact be a trap for us. Or there was the possibility that our attack wouldn't go to plan and result in a fatality on our side. Yes. Rescuing Creevey was a great risk to us.

We suddenly heard Hermione's delicate voice coming down the corridor accompanied by intermittent sobs. I tore my eyes away from Luke and watched as Hermione lead Creevey slowly into the canteen. She had her right arm around his back and was leading him with his left hand in hers like some nervous pet. His eyes kept looking down as if he could only see a few paces ahead of himself. They stopped just a few yards from me and Luke and Colin slowly dared to to lift his head up and look at us.

"I think some proper introductions are in order" said Hermione. "This is Brian Gould" she said indicating to me "and this is Luke Durrand." Luke simply nodded in acknowledgement. "Brian. Luke. This is Colin Creevey." We, of course, knew who he was but i'm sure that Hermione felt the introduction better to help Colin than us. Colin finally lifted his head up to the tallest I had seen him do so yet. His mouth began to move as he struggled to form words with his tongue not through physical impairment but through sheer fear as if he expected punishment if he spoke.

"H-H" he stuttered before forcing a deep breath. "Hello" he finally said before apparently taking a slight sigh of relief at the fact that he got the words out successfully.

"Good Morning Mr Creevey" said Luke firmly. Luke was trying to hide it but I had known him too long not to notice. Addressing him as 'Mr Creevey' was Luke's way of preventing any emotional attachment to him becuase for all his tough outer shell which he used to imprison his heart Luke was just as vulnerable as the rest of us emotionally. In these dark times you wouldn't be human if you weren't.

"Would you like something to eat?" I asked noting Tarquin's advice. Colin didn't reply immediately. He simply looked to Hermione for permission to answer. She gave him a reassuring smile and slight nod that it was ok and he in turn nodded to me politely.

"Come on Colin" said Hermione. "Why don't you take a seat and i'll fix you something?" Hermione lead him over to a chair by the far counter and he sat in it subserviently. Hermione walked upto us and opened the cupboards to start making him a bowl of porridge.

"Hermione" said Luke subdued. "As soon as he has had breakfast we need to debrief him and find out what he knows."

"There's no rush" she said quietly pouring the powdered oats into a bowl. She brushed some of the excess powder from her hands as she turned towards Luke to meet his almost certain protests firmly head on. In a bizarre twist I found myself ready to voice my support to Luke as such when Hermione continued. "He was petrified about two hours after Brian had seen him in Borgin's. He has no knowledge of the last three weeks or why he was being moved from the manor."

My heart sank. All the hope that had come from his rescue now just filtered away. It was a devastating blow to us and Luke's face showed the disappointment clearly. He turned for the door and made his way out with not so much as word to any of us. Hermione finished making the porridge for Colin and took the bowl and a spoon over to him sitting in the corner.

"Here you go Colin" she said placing it in front of him. She watched as he nervously picked up the spoon. He seemed to look up at her for yet further permission to eat. It was as if he had to be told to do everything, even eat. She rather sullenly nodded to him and he began to eat. He put the spoon into the porridge and lifted it to his mouth. He swallowed the spoonful and as it went down his throat his eyes closed in delight as if it was the most beautiful thing he had ever tasted. "You eat all you want! There is plenty more for you when your done if you want."

Hermione walked towards me leaving him eating the porridge. Her eyes had glazed over as she walked upto me and put her arms around my waist. I held her to comfort her as best I could. Her head rested on my shoulder and I started to think that Creevey had reminded her of a much happier time in her life and not the one she had here with me. It was a painful realisation for me that had things gone differently we may never have met and I wouldn't have found the one person I unquestionably loved. A question that had burned in my mind for quite some time was if the Dark Lord hadn't succeeded in coming to power would I be with her now? The thought of not being with Hermione cut me like a knife whenever it appeared. I was more frightened of losing her than I was of dying.

There was suddenly a hail of footsteps running down the corridor outside the school canteen. Hermione broke off from me just in time to see the frantic pace of twelve year old Cameron Allan burst through the door clutching the Daily Prophet in his hands. The story of Cameron was a particuarly sad one. His parents had been quite outspoken of the Dark Lord when he came to power. They soon went into hiding but were found and dealt with in an expectantly brutal manner but young Cameron was also punished for their disobedience. His vocal coords were magically severed leaving him mute for life. Not even Tarquin could heal the damage. We found him hiding in the ruins of one of the muggle citys called Newport that had been desserted due to the Dark Lord's Plague that was sweeping the muggle world. It was a sad fact that we considered this disabled child one of our twenty five members of our cell. Since we had rescued him he had taken a specific liking to Hermione and it was her he came running too with the latest issue of the Prophet. He held it desperately to her face.

"What is it Cameron?" she asked as she took it off the young man. She held it up to her face to read it as Cameron stood there trying desperately to catch his breath. "Oh my..." she gasped as she began to walk around the room, her face the picture of disbelief.

"What is it?" I asked. Hermione continued to walk subconciously as she continued to read. Her expression had changed to one of total confusion and shock. "What is it?" I repeated almost angrily. Cameron still stood there on the spot as I charged towards Hermione.

She finally tore her gaze away from the paper and looked up at me. Her eyes were wide open and her jaw had drooped slightly. She seemed to look down quickly as if to confirm it before she spoke.

"What?" I asked. She swallowed before answering.

"The Ministry" she uttered.

"Yes?"

"It's been bombed" she explained in almost total disbelief. "The Ministry of Magic has been bombed! The head of the Aurors is dead! Crouch is dead!"

It was as if a rug had been pulled from under me.


	14. Theories

It's hard to fathom now just how much the world seemed to change that day with the news of what had happened at the Ministry. Theories were thrown about all over the place and they ranged from the possible to the down right absurd. The most widely accepted by us was that there was another resistance cell active in the British Isles. We had no clue as to who they were but one thing was for sure - they had already made a name for themselves. Bombing the Ministry of Magic! Killing Crouch Jr! These were not little things. If there was indeed another cell active then they had definitely caught the attention of the Dark Establishment. By mid afternoon I couldn't help but wonder how the Death Eaters were going to respond to this act. No doubt it would mean bad news for a lot of people. Arrests or simple disappearances were a certainty. Part of me felt enormous guilt for that after all it was what we had started.

I sat on the sofa in the staff room talking with Gary that rain swept afternoon. We were going over the details of the operation we would both be undertaking later that day when Hermione walked in and sat down beside me curling up under my right arm. Immediately feeling like a fifth wheel Gary discretely left us alone to catch some sleep since the operation was to be an all nighter.

"How's Colin?" I asked once we were alone.

"He's settling in ok" she replied. "It's been a big day for him. and I think he's still adjusting but I think he will be ok."

"It's been a big day for all of us!" I uttered referring to the news of the bombing.

"I know!" she said. "I can't believe it. Crouch is dead!"

"If Gabrielle's information is correct then it looks like this Byars will replace him" I added. "And from the sound of things hat's not good either. Still I can't help but wonder who did it. They must have had inside assistance. They couldn't just waltz into the Ministry and plant a bomb without help." My mind was racing with possibilities.

"Maybe..." she said pausing for a moment as if almost daring herself to finish saying what she was thinking. "Maybe because of us people are starting to overcome their fear of the Death Eaters? We've become public enemy number one and maybe that's inspiring dissent from the masses?"

"No" i replied. I simply couldn't believe that. It was too good to be true and just didn't sit right with me. "Our offensive is still in its infancy. It's going to take a lot more to spark an uprising from the masses. In fact people are more afraid now than they have ever been." My mind kept going back to the conversation I had with Gabrielle that night in the Three Broomsticks. I couldn't help but feel that the answer was there somehow and I just wasn't seeing it until, in a moment of realisation, it came to me. "Malfoy!" Hermione lifted her head up and looked at me in a quizzing fashion. "Malfoy! He wasn't happy with the way Crouch was handling things. He couldn't just fire Crouch because that would undermine the Ministry's position but if terrorists killed him in such a way as to shock the whole wizarding world he could replace Crouch with Byars as well as give any new security clamp down an air of legitimacy."

Hermione looked at me with a stunned expression.

"Do you really think he would be capable of carrying out such an attack?" she asked. "Against the Ministry!?"

"Well he's never been quite right in the head has he?" I laughed stating the obvious.

"So if that's true" she surmised. "Are the Death Eaters turning against each other?"

"Hmm!" I thought hard about her question. I hadn't really thought about it that way before and as I was confronted with the suggestion I came to the conclusion that it was more likely that they were just in competition with each other for the time being. But that competition could lead to lines being drawn against each other and a disorganised Ministry would be far easier to topple than a unified one. "I think for now the best thing we can do is just sit back and see how this plays out. We continue with our plans since we don't want them thinking we're losing our momentum. Me and Gary will still go to Nottingham tonight." She nodded in agreement before we kissed and then cuddled for a while like any normal couple would.

It was coming up to eleven o'clock that night when me and Gary gathered the equipment and supplies we would be needing. It had all been shrunk down so that it fitted into a small rucksack that I slung over my back. Both Gary and I looked at each other to silently acknowledge that we were both now ready. Hermione was standing beside me and we turned to face each other. Everytime we left these days it felt like it was for the last time. We embraced for a moment before she looked at me and said, "Give them hell!"

* * *

I stood guard outside the pavilion in Nottingham as Gary broke in and went to work. It was the middle of the night and a cold wet drizzle lashed down on my face. After just a few minutes Gary had reappeared in the doorway and was magically repairing the damage he had done when breaking in. When he was finished the door looked as good as new and the two of us retreated to the hillside overlooking the pavilion beside the Quidditch pitch a good half a mile away.

We took out our wands and began to create a burrow within the ground large enough for the two of us to hide in. The only access to what was going on outside was a small rectangular gap not bigger than a letterbox hidden under a rock for us to peer out of. Our concealed location had a perfect view over the whole pitch and the stands and unless you knew what you were looking for we were all but invisible without having to resort to magic which can be detected by tracers. Once the concealed observation point was ready we apparated inside and made ourselves comfortable. All that was left now was to wait.


	15. Quidditch

It had been a typically bleak early winter's morning that we spent in the small burrow we had created to watch the events below. It was barely big enough for the two of us and we made an effort to move as little as possible. We had unshrunk all our supplies which had made the small hole even more cramped as we waited. For much of the morning we tried to sleep but any rest we got was purely a 'cat nap'. Who could possibly sleep in this situation? At around noon as the rain wore off momentarily the groundskeeper appeared and went to work on the pitch. There was now four hours before the start of the game between the Nottingham Division of the Ministerial Security Force and the Glasgow Division. The Ministerial Security Force or MSF was the new public face of the Death Eaters and was in reality a secret police force. Murder. Torture. Rape. All were tools of these vile and evil thugs. I always relished the opportunity to strike a blow against them.

As another hour passed my anxiety seemed to grow but I kept it well hidden from Gary. As I looked at him taking his turn staring out of the small observation hole I couldn't help but be impressed by his calmness before I realised that he was probably doing the same as me, keeping it hidden. I had known Gary for many years and considered him my closest friend. I knew that out of all of us he had the toughest time adapting to the role of 'terrorist' but I had to admire his ability to look beyond the disgust at the goal before us.

"Trouble!" he shot.

"What is it?" I gasped, my heart suddenly jumping like it had received an electric shock. I put my head beside his in an effort to see what was going on outside. It did not take long for me to identify the source of Gary's warning. Two Wizards were hovering on brooms over the Quidditch pitch. They wore long black robes that covered their whole bodies except for the top half of their faces above the nose. The lead Wizard was holding a small compass-like object in his hand as they swooped around the area in a slow and almost lazy fashion. "Tracers!" I uttered under my breath as if my subdued voice would add to our concealment.

"What do you want to do?" asked Gary as he reached for his wand.

"Don't do anything!" I blurted back trying to control my own fear that was rising inside me. "If they spot us we will take them out and abort the operation. Until then let's just keep our cool." We sat there watching them circling the pitch for a few minutes. On more than one occasion it felt as though they were looking right at us but their gaze continued along the hillside before finally they started to move off into the distance. Both Gary and I breathed a sigh of relief as we relaxed and seemed to slump back down onto the damp ground of our hiding place.

"What the hell are they doing here?" asked Gary angrily as he leaned over to check that they really were leaving.

"I don't know" I replied. "They're definitely getting more proactive against us. They are trying to guess what we might do and then try and cover it. Those two are going to get it this afternoon when we're finished."

"Definitely!" added Gary.

As the starting time of the game approached a crowd began to fill the stands. These were mostly colleagues of the players but a few were friends and family that were invited to watch. The fact that they were there at all was not lost on me but I put it behind me. I knew the operation was going to hit hard at our enemy and we couldn't afford to show any sign of weakness. We had planned for this eventuality and we had made sure that when _it _kicked off that they would be out of the way. Minutes before the start of the game a new group of people appeared carrying trays of refreshments for the spectators. We knew that this group consisted of muggle and squib slaves for it was not uncommon to see them being put to work at such events. Their pitiful expressions betrayed their almost total indifference to the harsh treatment they were no doubt receiving in the service of the Dark Establishment and as one of their number was murdered before their very eyes for spilling a glass of pumpkin juice on an irate witch none of them seemed to even bat an eyelid as if expecting it to happen.

To triumphant applause the players walked out on to the pitch and took to their brooms.

"Showtime!" I said to Gary as the two of us took up position to watch the match unfold. From the moment the whistle was blown the fouls began much to the jubilation of the crowd. In all my days I have never seen such a poor display of unsportsmanlike behaviour on a Quidditch pitch. It was like watching two of the worst Slytherin teams you ever did see magnified by ten times. Blood began to rain down on the grass below and another of the muggle slaves, a young woman in her twenties, had the misfortune of receiving a deliberate bludger to the head that knocked her to the floor much to the cheers of the crowd. After twenty minutes of game play the home team were creeping into the lead but the Golden Snitch was still nowhere to be seen. As the game became increasingly protracted I felt my readiness slipping as my mind wandered.

"Gary?" I asked looking to start a conversation.

"Yes?" he replied his eyes refusing to leave the game.

"Do you ever wonder what life would be like if things were different?" I asked thinking of Hermione.

"That's an odd thing to ask a terrorist" he said in a not-so-funny way. "Isn't the very reason we're fighting to create a better world?"

"That's not what I mean" I explained. "Do you ever wonder what life would have been like if the Dark Lord didn't come to power? I mean - what would be doing now?"

"Probably stuck in some dull job" he said.

"What I'd give for an unexciting life" I said almost without thinking it. My mind conjured an image of me and Hermione living in our own home free of the worry of Voldermort and his army. It seemed almost an impossibility that such a life could ever exist. I had become so used to living undercover and fighting that I never stopped to think about what it was exactly I was fighting for? If Voldermort hadn't come to power then no doubt Ronald Weasley would still be alive and he and Hermione would have got married? Then where would I be? Where would I be without her - the one woman I truly loved?

"Here we go!" snapped Gary as he took out his wand. With only a few points in the game between the two teams the Nottingham seeker had spotted the snitch and had made a run for it. With his arm outstretched he grabbed hold of it and brought the game to an end. Nottingham had won. The players spun wildly around the victorious seeker as he rose into the air holding his momentary trophy. Some of the crowd cheered while the others booed and hissed.

"Wait until he gets a little higher!" I said. Suddenly all the players darted and zoomed towards the Nottingham seeker - some to congratulate and others to taunt. "Wait...Wait!" Both teams were now high in the air over the pitch. "Now!"

Gary pointed his wand at the snitch and said "Bombarda Maxima!" The spell shot from his wand and travelled all the way across the pitch to the snitch in the seeker's hand. The snitch was no ordinary one. It was one of Gary's 'special' snitches for it was composed of a powerful explosive substance called Dragon's Wrath and it certainly lived up to it's name. As the bombarda spell hit the snitch the Dragon's Wrath inside magnified it's power many times over, the resultant explosion ringing through the valley. The seeker and three players in his immediate vicinity disappeared as a red and orange plume engulfed them, their bodies immediately disintegrating. The shock wave blew five other players nearby off their brooms and they fell to the ground with a terrible force mortally injuring all but one.

The pitch was in chaos as the stunned spectators struggled to make sense of what was happening. The great plume of smoke left by the explosion rose into the air as pieces of broomstick and body parts rained down onto the field. I watched as the terrified crowd dispersed in a blind panic. Some apparated away while others simply ran. I knew we had to leave right now and as I prepared myself to apparate away I heard a terrible shriek from the pitch and had to look back to see what it was. A woman was holding the body of what appeared to be her dead son. He was one of the players and the explosion had severed his right arm before the fall finally killed him. I had never heard such terrible screams in my life and they cut deep into my heart. Part of me tried to tell myself that these were inhuman and despicable bastards but another part of me told me that they were sons, husbands and brothers and at that moment I couldn't distinguish between the two. All I saw were victims. MY victims! The blast had killed eight of the players in total.

As I apparated away I asked myself "What have we done?"


	16. Losing Myself

The nightmares came back with a vengeance over the next few days. Almost every night I would awake suddenly after only a few hours asleep at best. The images I saw at the Quidditch match in Nottingham replayed night after night. I was totally unprepared for what happened that day. Planning the attack I could only think about killing some of those Death Eater scum. I never once thought about the fact that these people had families themselves. It's strange the frame of mind you put yourself in when carrying out an attack. In many ways you dehumanise your target in order to make it easier on you to do things you know have to be done. It's self deception at it's worst. That day at the Quidditch match I was forced to confront the truth that every one of my actions as a freedom fighter, as a terrorist, has consequences. More than once when I had retired for the night I found myself laying awake thinking back upon all those faceless 'targets' that I had killed. Suddenly they were human and had families mourning their deaths. I felt as though my soul had been tainted by what I had done up until now.

It was four days after the Quidditch match when Gabrielle had requested a meeting. I returned to The Three Broomsticks the following evening and waited for over half an hour for her to make her move that would give us just cause to go up to her room. Once inside we acted out the usual bargaining routine before she silenced the room with her Desonicator.

"You look terrible" she said matter-of-factly.

"Been having trouble sleeping" I replied almost in a murmur.

"Guilty conscience?" she asked jokingly. I didn't know how to answer that exactly. Even though I had only been in her presence for a few minutes I knew that her experience in her 'profession' had gifted her with the talent to read a man's soul. I could feel that I was being examined by her whenever we were together but whereas normally I had the clarity to stand my ground with her she knew that my tired defences were down and that she had the advantage. "It's funny" she continued as she walked over to her dressing table with the large mirror. "Not all men visit me for the same reason." She reached into a drawer and took out a half empty bottle of red liquid and began to pour it into two glasses. "Some of them want something completely different." She walked over to me with the glasses in her hand and offered me one. I took it and listened as she went on. "Sometimes men just want talk and they pay me to listen. They have a certain look to them. When I saw you tonight I could see that same look in your eyes. You want to talk to me about something. Something you feel you can't talk to anyone else about? Is that it?"

I took a drink from the glass and recognised the brisk taste of Dragon's Blood wine. The whole act of drinking the wine was to buy me time as I thought about what Gabrielle had said. The truth was she was right. There was a lot on my mind and I felt that I couldn't talk to anyone about it - not even Hermione. I didn't know why exactly. There seemed to be some invisible force that stood between us when it came to sensitive things. Things like feelings about what we were doing. Things like Ron Weasley.

I had allowed myself a moment to contemplate opening up to Gabrielle but it didn't last and my defences were raised again.

"I came here tonight because you asked me to, remember?" I replied. "Not to open up to you."

"Ah!" she said not giving any sign of letting up. "Not that I want to bruise your ego too much but I sent a message to meet with your group and not to you specifically. I could just as easily talk to Luke or Gary."

"I guess I wanted to take the opportunity to thank you for helping us rescue Creevey" I explained not too convincingly.

"You're welcome" she said smiling as she realised that I wasn't going to give in no matter how much she would enjoy seeing me pour open my heart to her. "Very well then!" She seemed to rip herself free of the moment between us and and began to glide across the room to a big white wicker chair that sat beside the bed. Placing herself elegantly in the chair she took another drink from her wine as she relaxed. "I've called you hear to arrange a little compensation for my loss of earnings."

"What?" I gasped somewhat confused!

"It was_ you _who bombed the Ministry and the Quidditch match in Nottingham?" she asked in a tone that suggested she expected to be proved correct.

"You're only half right" I replied.

"Oh! Which half?"

I took in a deep breath before answering, something I knew she picked up on. "The Quidditch match was us. We don't know who bombed the Ministry. But what's that got to do with you?"

"Well the Death Eaters are a little shaken and who can blame them after losing Crouch? They've stopped all their social events until further notice and unfortunately that means that I only see one client at a time. I'm losing money." Her words seemed to be empty as if they had no passion behind them. I sensed that I was being played with yet again.

"Are you serious?" I asked.

"_Non_" she chirped with her French coming through. "But I thought I'd start with a little joke. So...If you didn't bomb the Ministry, who did?"

"That's the question we are wondering. Have you heard anything?"

She shook her head. "I thought it was you! But I'll keep my ears open for any little secrets that come my way. I called you here because I've been visited by a new client recently. A Captain in the Ministerial Security Force. He's just been transferred to London from a postion in Cornwall. Apparently he was quite influential in crushing the Cornish resistance a few weeks ago. Anthony Goldstein. Have you heard of him?"

"Nope" I replied. "Should I?"

"He knows Hermione" she explained. "Personally! Seems they were at Hogwarts together but in different houses."

"Slytherin?"

"Ravenclaw" she said shaking her head slowly. "He's like you. Not really interested in...well. He talks quite a bit about Hermione!"

"Such as?"

"What she would think of him now. He has done some very unpleasant things" she explained.

"I see" I said knowing full well what she meant. The MSF was hardly a pleasant organisation. They made sure that everyone responded to the political will of the Dark Establishment. "I'll mention it to Hermione."

"Well when you do you can give her this message" she explained putting her glass down and standing up. She took several paces towards me before adding, "If she wants to get rid of him you will have my support." Looking into her eyes I saw that all pretence was gone. She meant every word of it. Her eyes were that of a killer and it was the look that always unsettled me around her.

"I'll pass it on" I said almost nervously as she got even closer to me. There was now only inches between us. In my fatigued state even I felt her Veela blood calling to me. She lifted her left hand up to my face and caressed my right cheek. I had to admit that it felt good. It felt warm and soothing even though I knew that there was no feeling behind the sentiment. It was all part of her act but I allowed myself to get caught up in it.

"You're having trouble sleeping?" she whispered seductively.

"Yes" I uttered almost breathlessly as I felt my body weaken. She placed both her hands on my shoulders and lead me to the corner of the bed where I sat down. She clambered up the soft bed and sat behind me. The bed was a stark contrast to the makeshift one I had back at our headquarters, it was so comfortable. Part of me was still trying to fight it but the majority of me submitted as I came under her spell. She placed her arms under my own and pulled me back as she whispered into my ear, "Maybe all you need is a change of setting?" She moved up the bed before lowering my head onto her lap. I lay there for a few moments, feeling I was betraying Hermione, but I was so caught up in this confusing and dizzying moment. She caressed my forehead gently in an almost motherly way and I felt a sensation similar to falling off a cliff as my eyes closed and I fell asleep.

It was over eight hours later that I woke up - the longest undisturbed sleep I'd had for a long while. I lifted up my head and looked back to see Gabrielle asleep on her pillow. I have never felt so unclean in my life. Although I hadn't cheated exactly I had gone to bed with another woman and I hated myself for what I had become.

* * *

"Where the hell have you been?" shrieked Hermione as I apparated into the main hall of our headquarters. "We've been worried sick! You were supposed to have been back hours ago!"

Gary was on guard duty that night and both he and Hermione were the only ones awake. As I embraced Hermione I looked up from her shoulder to see him cast me an accusing glance. It was obvious he suspected something but I didn't think he would bring it up now.

"I'm sorry" I said guiltily. She must have assumed that my guilt was about being late and not the real reason. I made up some excuse about how the tavern was exceptionally busy and it took a while for me and Gabrielle to slip away. I think it worked but the mention of Gabrielle's message regarding Goldstein quickly set aside the fact I was late.

"He's alive?" she asked in a stunned whisper.

"Yes" I explained. "He's a Captain in the MSF."

"Is she sure it's the same person?"

"He knows you personally" I continued. "He was in the same year as you at Hogwarts. Who is he?"

Hermione began to pace the room as she contemplated what this new information could mean before she finally spoke about it. "H-He was a member of the DA. One of the original members. We..." she paused as she corrected herself. "I thought he had been killed or imprisoned when Hogwarts was destroyed along with nearly everyone else in Dumbledore's Army."

"Well it seems that's not the case" added Gary.

"Not necessarily" I said as a thought came to my mind. "It could be a trap? Maybe someone wanted you to think that he was alive so that you would go after him?"

"Do you think Gabrielle has betrayed us?" asked Gary.

"No!" I blurted as my mind refused to believe that. The image I saw in her eyes replayed in my memory. She would never work with the Death Eaters. "If Gabrielle is a part of a trap then she is an unwilling participant?"

"So what do we do?"

I turned to face Hermione as she looked up at me and said, "We take Gabrielle up on her offer!"


	17. A Dark Night Ahead

The house sat on a lonely stretch of road in Surrey. Three days of reconnaissance had revealed to us a setting that served our purposes well. We didn't want to use The Three Broomsticks because it would attract unnecessary attention to the establishment and Gabrielle. I stood outside the house on the rain soaked road looking around for any sign of a potential trap set against us. It was a cold Autumn night and the thick, long travelling cloak that covered my whole upper torso served two purposes; to keep me warm and to help disguise my identity. It was a small home that sat alone on a quiet country road that linked two muggle towns together although traffic through this quiet part of the English countryside had diminished significantly over the past few years. The Plague that the Dark Lord had devised to savage the muggle world had reduced the local population down to barely a shadow of what it once was.

The owner of the house was an old man named Michael Johnson. He was a muggle who lived alone in the quaint little home. Hermione had visited him earlier in the day posing as a civil servant conducting a survey on behalf of the local council. The old man seemed to welcome her visit since much of his family had died from the Plague and he rarely entertained guests anymore. Using her cover she confirmed that Mr Johnson wasn't expecting company any time soon and so we decided that we were going to borrow his home for the evening as we set our trap for Goldstein.

As quietly as I could I made my way through the small garden to the back door of the house that lead straight into the kitchen. There was a faint light emanating from the living room and the sound of a muggle television set could be heard the closer I got to the door. I peered through the swirling decorative glass of the back door to check for any sign of movement and when I was sure that Mr Johnson wasn't in his kitchen I removed my wand from underneath my cloak and held it to the key hole.

"Alohomora!"

The door unlocked with a slight clunking sound. I paused to check that Mr Johnson hadn't heard it but the volume of the muggle television had drowned out the noise and I gently eased the door open. Like a skilled cat burglar I entered his home, my wand drawn and held out in front of me. I made every possible effort to make sure that my footsteps through his kitchen were as quiet as possible. My efforts were again aided by the loud television that was clearly showing some kind of comedy as I could hear laughter emanating from it as the characters acted out their routines.

I now stood in the doorway that separated the kitchen from the living room. Almost immediately in front of me was Mr Johnson perched in his chair with his back to me enjoying the television program. Despite my anxiety I couldn't help but look at the television, an example of muggle 'magic'. I had never really seen one before but as Mr Johnson gave out a heavy laugh at a joke from one of the charactors I snapped myself out of my interest in it and returned to the task at hand.

I held my wand firmly in his direction as I closed in slowly. I began to feel like a predator stalking my unsuspecting prey. The majority of me felt sympathy for the old man but I have to admit that there was an aspect of my personality that relished the power I had at that moment. I had successfully caught him unaware and he was completely at my mercy. If I wanted to I could kill him! I immediately hated myself for thinking it. I didn't mean it but the fact was that I had, at that moment, that much power and I have to admit that it was deeply intoxicating.

The old man remained completely oblivious to my presence as I now stood only a few paces behind him. He gave out a heart felt laugh that tilted his head back. My heart beat frantically in my chest as I turned my wand in his direction. I knew there was only seconds to act before he sensed my presence. I made my move quickly and threw myself behind him with my wand drawn.

"Petrificus Totalus!"

The old man's body jolted as the spell worked to magically bind his arms and legs in an invisible forcefield that held him in place. The man's body now sat rigid in the chair holding it's position solid. Only his eyes showed any sign of movement. Confused and panic stricken they raced around the room trying to make sense of what was happening. I walked in front of him and his panicked eyes watched as I emptied a potion into his mouth that he had no choice but to swallow. The potion filled his body and his eyes began to rest as he soon lost consciousness and fell asleep.

"I'm sorry" I said to him even though he couldn't hear me now that he was asleep and bound. "But we need to borrow your home."

Mr Johnson had been neutralised without incident. I reached in to my right trouser pocket and took out a large gold coin that had been enchanted by Hermione for use as a communication tool. I held it up to my lips as I spoke in to it.

"It's done!" I said. "Come on in!"

The room suddenly echoed with four popping sounds as Gabrielle, Gary, Hermione and Luke apparated inside. Hermione waisted no time as she went straight to check on Mr Johnson. Like me she felt enormous guilt for using his home for our dark purpose and wanted to make sure he was ok. Gary and Luke immediately went about securing the home. Using their wands they first began to check for any sign of magical tampering that might indicate that we were in fact walking in to a trap ourselves before they began casting alert charms on the doors and windows that would warn us of any unwanted intruders using those ways to enter the building. We knew that the more magic we used the more chance of a passing tracer picking up on it but this part of the country was almost devoid of any magical activity and so the Ministerial Security Force and the Dark Aurors paid little attention to it. It was one of the reasons why we chose it as our setting.

Gabrielle seemed to glide slowly around the room examining it as she went. The old memorabilia of happier times that Mr Johnson had held on to clearly didn't impress her as she seemed to cock her nose up at it all.

"Something wrong?" I asked her with Hermione still standing beside the two of us who was eyeing up Gabrielle suspiciously.

"It will do I suppose" Gabrielle uttered in a clear French accent. Hermione had commented many times how well her English had improved since she had moved here from France in effort to find her sister's killers. "I need to see the bedroom!"

"This way" said Hermione indicating to the stairs in the hallway that was beside the kitchen door. The coldness between the two women was clearly evident. Hermone didn't like the way Gabrielle was around me and my ego would like to think that Gabrielle was attracted to me but the truth was Gabrielle had been playing her part as a whore for so long that she didn't know any other way to behave around men. The only positive side to this was that it reinforced the feeling of strength in mine and Hermione's relationship and that made me feel good. If I ever lost Hermione my life may as well be over.

I was once again alone with Mr Johnson who remained bound in the same position. Using my wand I levitated him into the basement. I rummaged around the old junk for a chair in order to settle his body down in some kind of a dignified manner but instead I found an old mattress laying up against a wall covered by several boxes. After moving the boxes aside I pulled the mattress in to the middle of the room before settling Mr Johnson's body on top of it. At first glance it appeared quite comical seeing him frozen in a sitting position but I didn't find it funny. Knowing that the sleeping potion would keep him unconscious for several hours I reversed the immobility spell I had cast on him and moved his body in to a more comfortable position. Leaving him there in the basement of the house I mouthed the word 'sorry' to him once again before locking the door to seal him in the room.

As I reentered the living room I heard Hermione's voice calling me from upstairs. I yelled back in acknowledgement before making my way up the stairs and in to the bedroom from where her voice was coming from. It was quite a spacious room with a large double bed in the centre and a row of wardrobes along the left wall but there was no sign of Gabrielle or Hermione. I looked around but there was no sign of them anywhere. I suddenly heard Gabrielle giggle. The sound appeared to emanate from the wall opposite of the bed but there was no one there!

Suddenly Gabrielle's head appeared in the wall before she walked right the way through it. As her body passed through, the wall rippled as though it were a pool of water that a stone had been cast in to. Hermione followed shortly after. I couldn't help but be impressed by the level of skill it took to create such an illusion. Hermione truly was the greatest witch of her time.

"This is where we are going to hide while Gabrielle brings him back" explained Hermione. Gabrielle agreed to cooperate fully on this operation but she had stipulated only one condition. She wanted to make sure that we remained hidden for at least half an hour before we made our move against Goldstein. Although she wouldn't tell us what exactly there was something she wanted us all to hear Goldstein say.

Time was pressing on and it was soon time for Gabrielle to meet with our target in London. She was back in the living room getting herself ready when I saw her.

"You're sure you can lure him here?" I asked.

"Don't you worry about me" she said confidently. "I will be back with him shortly. Just make sure you're in position when I arrive!"

"We will be" I replied. I couldn't help myself. I had to ask. "Why are you so committed to this? What has he told you that you want us to know?"

"You'll see" was all that she would reply to my questions.

"Is he one of the ones who kidnapped Fleur?" I asked. The question provoked a sudden and immediate response. She stood up furiously as Gary entered the room. She stood in front of me and looked in to my eyes.

"If he was" she said with enough venom to poison the entire wizarding world, "do you think he would still be alive?" I could only begin to imagine what dark thoughts were running through her mind at that moment. I felt truly uneasy as she reached up and seductively ran her finger across my bottom lip, her smile signalling an almost demented mind at work. "I have to go. I'm late for my date." And with that she apparated away from the room.

I looked over at Gary who was still standing in the doorway. Our expressions said all we needed to say. Gabrielle Delacour was a truly frightening person and her departure had left the room unsettled as though it were somehow hexed as a result of her bitter hatred.

I shook it off as I prepared myself for the night ahead.

_May the spirits in heaven shield their eyes from what we are about to do. _


	18. Anthony Goldstein

We had about an hour before we expected Gabrielle to return with Goldstein. I found Hermione in the kitchen washing Mr Johnson's dishes by hand and without the use of magic as though she were an ordinary muggle housewife. I couldn't help but let out a stifled chuckle as I watched which she heard and so turned to face me.

"What are you doing?" I asked somewhat amused at the scene considering why were here in the first place.

"What does it look like?" she replied in a firm but not angry tone despite my amusement. "We have effectively stolen this man's home, frozen him and kept him locked in his own cellar. The least we can do is wash his dishes for him. Here!" She threw a bright blue and white chequered tea towel at me the edges of which whipped me in the face. "You can help."

"Yes master" I joked as I took my place beside her and started to dry the plates as she passed them to me. As I dried a bright white dinner plate I looked over to see her washing another one. A stain of dried gravy was proving difficult to remove. I watched her pushing down hard on it with a scrubbing brush with such vigour that I began to wonder if the real reason she was doing the washing up was to merely give her something to do. "Are you ok with all of this?"

"I'm fine" she murmered through gritted teeth as the stain still refused to budge.

"You sure?"

"I said I'm fine!" she snapped angrily as she threw the stained dish in to the water.

"Ok!" I said slightly taken aback by the anger in her voice. "I was just asking."

"Well don't! I'm sick to death of it."

"What the hell did I do?" I asked feeling myself getting angry with her. It felt as though I was being punished for caring. She looked as though she was about to reply when she cut herself off and shut her eyes. She took a deep breath before saying, "Look, I'm sorry. Just a bit wound up that's all."

"About Goldstein?"

"About a lot of things. I just...feel like I can't breath anymore. I have to live in a rundown old school hiding away from the world. I feel like I'm in Azkaban or something?"

"Hey come here!" I said putting my arms around her. "I know it's tough. But we chose this life. We just have to bare with it and keep the faith because in the end that's all we have now. Just keep your mind on the goal." I didn't know if my words were helping. "Listen when tonight is over what do you say we go away somewhere? Just me and you."

"What?" she gasped in disbelief as she pulled away from me. "Like where?"

"I don't know. Maybe Greece or something?"

"And how do you propose we do that exactly?" she asked.

"We'll figure something out" I said knowing full well that what I was proposing was not a simple thing but at that moment as I looked at her I knew we had to try. My mind tried to picture us on a secluded beach in the middle of nowhere free of the Death Eaters and their supporters even if it was for just an hour or two. My overly optimistic train of thought came to an abrupt halt as Luke came running in to the room.

"They're outside!" he blurted. "They just apparated in to the street."

"They're early" I said. "We better get ready."

The four of us quickly made our way up in to the bedroom. Once there we stepped through the false wall that Hermione created. As I passed through it I experienced a feeling similar to putting my face in to a pool of water. It was not wet in any way but I could feel the illusion apparently trickle across my body. We stood inside the small space behind the fake wall that was about five feet in length. Hermione stood on my right with Luke on her right. Gary stood on my left side. As we could hear the door open downstairs Hermione reminded each of us that although we couldn't be seen we could still be heard and so had to keep quiet the whole time.

Footsteps began to echo up the hallway as as we could hear Gabrielle leading someone up the stairs. I reached inside my jacket for my wand and the the others quickly followed suit. As Gabrielle's voice sounded through the wooden door to the bedroom indicating they were just outside I turned to Gary to make sure he had our 'calling card'. He responded by tapping the pocket on the right of his long brown coat indicating that the gun was safe inside.

The door handle twisted as the door opened. Gabrielle seemed to float in to the room in her usual pink satin outfit. She was followed by a man wearing a long grey cloak over a smart looking grey uniform and was wearing a peaked cap that was flat on the top. Each one of his hands was clad in dark black leather gloves. This was the uniform of a Captain in the Ministerial Security Force. In his right hand was a rather large bottle of Champagne that he clutched at the neck. The man had a well shaven face and was clearly overwhelmed by Gabrielle's energy as she lead him in to the room and closed the door behind him. He removed his cap and placed it on to the table beside the bed along with the Champagne. As he turned around it felt as though he were looking straight at us but of course we couldn't be seen through the fake wall.

I tilted my head to the right as Hermione looked up at me and nodded. This was indeed Anthony Goldstein. The look on her face was not what I expected. I had presumed that given the fact that one of Dumbledore's Army had surely betrayed them at some point she would be overwhelmed with anger. Hermione did have a fiery temper at times something I could vouch for on several occasions. But the look she had on her face at that moment was similar to the one when she first saw Colin Creevey. I couldn't understand it personally. Maybe part of her hoped he was under the Imperious curse or something? I, on the other hand, was resisting the urge to take the gun from Gary and walk right out there now and get it over with. I didn't care who he was. I only care about the fact he is in an MSF uniform. I wanted to kill him before he even had a chance to speak. I don't think my heart could take getting to know him first. I was having enough troubles with my conscience as it was.

Nevertheless I remained still and silent as per Gabrielle's request. Why she wanted us to remain hidden for the first twenty minutes or so escaped me? I didn't know what it was she wanted us to see and voyeurism wasn't exactly what I had in mind for this evening. So with curiosity and stealth we watched and listened.

"Let me get that for you" said Gabrielle as she untied the thick string holding his cloak together at the front. He allowed her to remove the cloak and she placed it on the floor in the corner of the room. With the cloak gone his wand could be seen hanging from his waist by a leather strap.

"If only my colleagues could see me here in this muggle pit?" he joked in a way that indicated that he too didn't find it very funny. She walked around to face him and she reached up to seductively caress his left cheek with the back of her right hand.

"That is precisely why I brought you here" she whispered as she kissed him softly on the corner of his lips. "I thought this would allow us to get away from everything and just enjoy each others company." Again she kissed him on the corner of his lips. I noticed as I watched that both times he had failed to respond to her kisses instead just letting her place them on him. His eyes lingered downward as though he were embarrassed but I quickly picked up on the fact that it was more than that but I just couldn't put my finger on what exactly?

"I need this" he uttered quietly.

"Bad week?"

"You could say that" he replied refusing to look at her directly. She placed her hands on either side of his face and gently tilted his head down for him to look at her directly in the eyes as she said softly with a smile of understanding, "You can tell me. Come on!" She lead him over to the bed. I suspected that she deliberately positioned him at the bottom of the bed for us to see them. As he followed her lead I came to realise that the look he had in his eyes was one I could relate to. He had the eyes of someone who was trapped in events over which he had no control.

We continued to watch as they made small talk and drank from the bottle of Champagne. After a few minutes Goldstein appeared to relax a little, enough at least to allow Gabrielle to remove his jacket under the guise of making him feel more comfortable.

"You're so good to me" he said to her truthfully to which she smiled. "I know it's only because I'm paying you but I really appreciate what you do for me."

Gabrielle climbed behind him and began to rub his shoulders while she whispered in to his left ear, "It's more than that for me too. I enjoy your company. You're not like the others who visit me. You are a nice person."

As he heard her describe him as a 'nice person' his eyes seemed to automatically shut tight as he uttered, "I wish I was!"

"So!" said Gabrielle suddenly. "Any luck finding Hermione Granger and her insurgents?"

The four of us seemed to jump in shock at the suddenness that Gabrielle had brought up the subject. I think she found some perverse pleasure in making us sweat.

"No not yet" he replied. "We thought that we had a lead but-" He cut himself off suddenly. The four of us held our breaths in suspense. Had he seen or heard us? Was he about to go for his wand? Gabrielle didn't seem too concerned as though she had seen this reaction many times from him.

"What happened?" she asked. It took a few minutes for Goldstein to answer.

"They were just a family" he said mournfully. "They were just trying to get by. Their father was on a list of people we were ordered to round up." Goldstein seemed to pause for a moment as if fighting back the desire to start sobbing. "They just wouldn't let him go. We...I tried to make them understand that he was only being brought in for questioning but... His wife drew her wand on one of my men. We had no choice but to-to."

"Did you do it?" she asked as he paused. He very shamefully nodded as a tear came strolling down his face. "You had no choice" she said feigning what he wanted to hear. "Then what happened?"

He sucked in his anguish before continuing.

"As we immobilised him two of my men went in to the house. They had found his daughter hiding in one of the bedrooms. They called down for the rest of us to come up." Tears now flooded from his eyes as he thought back to what happened that day.

"And what did they do?" Gabrielle was no longer pretending to comfort him but was rather bullying him in to answering. I assumed again that it was for our benefit. "Tell me! What did they do?"

"They..." He struggled to find a way to bring himself to say it although in truth he didn't have to. We had all figured out what had happened. "They...Took turns. I-I couldn't do anything about it. If I ordered them to stop then...Then."

"Sssshhhh" cooed Gabrielle now putting back her compassionate pretence in order to calm him down. "It's ok. It's done now. You had to let them do it or they would turn on you. You had no choice. It was just like what happened at Hogwarts."

My heart jumped at the mention of the place where Dumbledore's Army and the surviving members of the Order of the Phoenix met their fate. It was clear that this was what Gabrielle had wanted us to find out. Anthony Goldstein had something to do with what happened the day the castle burned but before Gabrielle could get him to speak on the subject I saw Hermione step forward through the fake wall. She was visible.

I couldn't begin to imagine the feeling of fear Goldstein had as we each became visible to him. As we stepped through the fake wall Gabrielle quickly reached around and removed his wand from his belt before tossing it across the room away from him. He was at our mercy.

"Hermione!" he gasped in breathless horror. The room was silent. Hermione's face was solid stone. She exerted no emotion whatsoever. It was as if her heart had just shut down. The silence in the room was disrupted by the near demented giggle of Gabrielle as she leaned over and whispered rather unnervingly into Goldstein's ear.

"Judgement day!"


	19. The Farmhouse

The next few minutes were a crazy whirlwind of actions and emotion. We had bound Goldstein's hands and feet behind his back and had placed an empty pillow case over his head. Both Gary and Luke reached between his arms and dragged him into the middle of the bedroom before apparating away with our prisoner. We had decided early on not to do what had to be done here in Mr Johnson's house. That would surely spell death for him when Goldstein's body was discovered. Instead we decided to take Goldstein to a heavily wooded area on the border between England and Wales called the Forest of Dean. Located within the woods was a muggle farmhouse that had been abandoned for over a hundred or so years.

I will never forget the look on Hermione's face that day. It was cold and hard. It betrayed no emotion what so ever. I tried to understand what she was going through but it was impossible. We had all killed before, there was just no way of getting around it. There is no such thing as a 'nice terrorist' but tonight our target...our victim was someone she had known for years. This was a different thing altogether and it made me feel that my own disgust at what happened at the Quidditch match probably paled in comparison to what she must be feeling right now. She had ate in the same room as him for six years. Studied with him. Formed the DA with him. Fought with him against the Death Eaters. It's so easy to just say 'he betrayed the cause and deserves it'. Human beings seem to crave a punishment to fit the crime. In truth I aways dreaded the day that I would feel nothing as I took a life away even if it was a Death Eater. But while it still unsettled me I always looked through my emotion as I concentrated on the goal. Maybe Tarquin was right? Maybe our group and the Death Eaters were just two sides of the same coin?

Hermione stood almost frozen staring at the spot where Gary and Luke had apparated away. I stood beside her and reached over with my hand to pull her chin towards me. Although her head moved in my direction her eyes stayed locked on the spot until finally they could not physically stay there any longer and they fell upon me.

"Why don't you wait for us back at the school?" I suggested. "There's no need for you to see this."

"If I don't..." she said as her chin began to ripple with a hint of emotion breaking through the surface. "I could never live with myself afterwards." With my hand still delicately placed on her chin she apparated away. I let my arm fall slowly to my side. I knew that after tonight things were never going to be the same again. I turned to Gabrielle and thanked her for her help. She suddenly exploded in French as I readied myself to join the others at the farmhouse.

"Z-you are not leaving wiz zout me!" she demanded firmly all the while struggling to prevent herself from breaking out in to French which betrayed her highly emotional state. Her act was gone. It was as though it were some outer layer of her personality that had been torn away to reveal the wounded and crazed woman underneath. I simply nodded as I raised my left arm for her to hold on to. We hadn't told Gabrielle where we were taking Goldstein. We didn't expect her to be there at the very end.

A few minutes later we apparated outside the old farmhouse. The forest was darkened black in the night. Even the moon was obscured by heavy clouds as though the rest of the universe were looking away from us as we were about to commit another deed in the cause of freedom. Freedom? As we approached the old building I began to wonder if I truly believed that anymore. To me this just felt like retribution - plain and simple.

The building was small with just two rooms that had been heavily burned out and had graffiti all over the walls from years of abuse by muggle teenagers. The only light in the room was from Gary's wand that was utilising the Lumos charm. I walked in through the door with Gabrielle by my side. The door frame sparkled slightly signifying the Anti-Apparition Spell Hermione had cast on the dwelling while I was incapacitating Mr Johnson. This was to prevent Goldstein from escaping but it also meant that we had to apparate outside the building. It was one of Hermione's 'specials' and only she could lift it if the house came under attack. It did mean we were that little more vulnerable but it was necessary.

Goldstein was laying on the floor with his hands and feet still bound together behind his back and the pillowcase over his head. Pathetic sobs could be heard coming from him as Hermione held her wand over his body to scan for any sign of a Locator Charm placed on him that might allow him to be tracked here. After the tip of her wand glowed blue for several seconds she turned to us and said quite calmly, "There's no sign of any tracking spells on him. We're safe."

"What about any signs of the Imperius Charm?" asked Gary. Hermione simply shook her head in a way that signalled she wasn't sure one way or another. The Imperius Curse was a difficult one to detect. That's what made it so insidious.

"Alright then!" said Luke. "Let's get this over with. Whose turn is it?" The question was directed at me and Gary since we were the only ones who had been actually using the guns.

"Mine!" said Gary as he began to reach in to his coat pocket to retrieve the old Russian made handgun, the very same gun I had used on Borgin almost a month earlier.

"Wait!" shot Hermione. She reached over and helped Goldstein up on to his knees. Once he was upright she pulled the pillowcase off his head. His eyes struggled to adjust to the brightness of the light emanating from Gary's wand.

"Hermione?" he mumbled as he tried to look up at her.

"Yes Anthony" she said softly looking in to his tear soaked eyes. "It's me."

"I'm so glad you're ok." He started to silently cry as the enormity of his predicament fell down on top of him. I didn't know how to react? I felt a great numbness as I watched her put her arms around him and he sobbed bitterly in to her shoulder. Luke looked stunned and shot me a glance that asked 'what's going on?' I was unsure myself. This all seemed like one crazy dream that was unfolding in front of us.

The dream came to a sudden and sharp end as Gabrielle charged forward and threw herself at Goldstein kicking and punching him as he knelt there in front of Hermione all the while screaming obscenities at him in French.

"Gabrielle!" I called out. She didn't respond. "Gabrielle! That's not the way we do things!"

I suddenly found myself on the receiving end of her fury.

"Zat's not zeway you do szings?" she mocked before composing herself and returning to her much better grasp of the English language. "Do you have any idea what he has done? I've listened to his confessions. I know his sins and if you knew them you would be ripping out his heart with your bare hands!" In all my life I have never seen such venom and poison as I saw in Gabrielle's eyes at that moment. I could see all the pain and hurt as they emanated from them cruelly juxtaposed to her lavish and fine garments that she wore as part of her act. She turned to Hermione before pacing around the back of Goldstein. "Why don't you tell them? Why don't you tell Hermione why Ron is dead? Why Hogwarts fell?"

I didn't know what I expected Hermione to do at the mention of Ron's name at that point but to my amazement she remained shockingly calm in stark contrast to Gabrielle. As Gabrielle Delacour's words pierced Goldstein's heart his head lowered away from Hermione in bitter shame.

"Anthony" she whispered softly lowering her head to look in to his eyes. "Anthony! Look at me!" She repeated her gentle command and he finally brought himself to look up at her. "Tell me what happened! It's ok. Just tell me what happened!" The room was in awe at the gentle and seemingly compassionate tone of Hermione's voice. I think each of us were forced to admit that if it we were in the same position then we could not act so dignified in the wake of such an impending revelation. Gary, Luke and myself had not been at Hogwarts during the last few years of its existence. Luke had finished his years at the school of magic during Hermione's first year. Me and Gary finished ours the following year. In all likelihood I had probably met Goldstein at some point in the Ravenclaw common room being a Ravenclaw myself. Except for what Hermione had told us about the following years we had little clue as to what had happened.

It took a few seconds for Goldstein to find that last shred of courage he had left to tell his story.

"It was crazy!" he murmured as he explained to us what Gabrielle was talking about. "Those last few days." Hermione simply nodded in an effort to help him through this. "The Ministry had fallen. Dumbledore was dead. The Death Eaters were everywhere. Hogwarts was our last stand. The last place where we could mount a defence. B-But we knew that it was hopeless. They were all around the castle just waiting to attack. The last night...I was on guard duty on the south wall with Cho Chang. We saw something in the woods. We didn't know what it was. Cho wanted to report it but I thought we should take a quick look first. There had been so many false alarms and I didn't want to cause another one." His energy momentarily deserted him and Hermione had to gently coax him on. "I was ambushed!" he cried. "They were Death Eaters. I-SAW-HIM! I saw Voldermort! Do you have no idea what that's like? His eyes! God, his eyes! They rip you apart. The things he started to do to me. I...just...couldn't take it. I begged for him to stop. He got in to my mind. He started showing me things. Things he was going to do to me if I didn't do what he asked."

"What did you do?" growled Luke through gritted and angry teeth.

Goldstein looked at Luke before turning back to Hermione to explain. "They...They made me show them how to bypass the castle defences. I saw them kill Cho!"

I think we had all figured it out for ourselves by that point but to actually hear it, to actually have our suspicions confirmed was something none of us, except for Gabrielle, were prepared for.

"That's how they did it" added Hermione quietly as if only for her own understanding of what happened. "They attacked us from within the castle. Before we even knew it had begun most of us were dead and it was all but over. Harry ordered the survivors to try and escape. I managed to get away in all the chaos." The images that the story produced burned in my thoughts. What madness has the world reverted to when a school becomes a battlefield?

"Creevey!" said Gary as if in a moment of realisation. "He was taken prisoner. Were there others?"

"I don't know" replied Goldstein. "I didn't see any."

The story of what happened at Hogwarts answered only one of my questions. Now I was ready for the next one to be answered. "So how did you end up in the MSF?"

"They gave me a choice" he uttered.

"Which was?" snarled Luke.

"Prison or I could join them" he replied shamefully.

"But they didn't just make you a Captain then and there did they?" shot Luke accusingly. "You had to earn their trust?"

There was no doubt in any of our minds what that would entail. Goldstein couldn't answer. It was too much for him. He had reached his limit and just pleaded with Hermione for forgiveness as he cried repeatedly, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

There was nothing more to say. It was time.

Hermione leaned forward and held him once more comforting him as he wept.

"Hermione!" I called wanting her to step away from him. She lifted him off her shoulder and in front of four stunned faces she kissed him softly on the forehead. I think it was her way of easing his pain slightly after all in some ways he was a victim too. He had been acting on one of the most basic instincts of the human nature; self preservation even if it was at the cost of others. As she stood up Gary held the gun in his left hand sandwiched between his glowing wand and his palm before pulling back the slide to load a bullet into the chamber. The clicking sound, indicating it was loaded, rang out through the room.

Hermione calmly walked towards Gary and took the gun from him much to the shock of all of us. Was she really going to stop us from doing this? I got my answer almost instantly. In one swift move she turned on the spot with her arm raised outward holding the gun. Without pausing for breath or showing any other sign of hesitation she squeezed the trigger. The mechanism activated and expelled the loaded round through the barrel. The spent cartridge ejected sideways and made a slight sound like a pin dropping on to the hard stone floor. The sound of the gunshot echoed through the empty room and left my ears ringing loudly.

As the bullet impacted squarely in Goldstein's head it jerked back suddenly before his now limp body slumped lazily forward on to the floor, his dead eyes staring blankly at the wall in the corner of the room. Some blood from the shot had landed on to Gabrielle's clothes and she quite mundanely rubbed it off the pink satin as though she had tipped a bit of tea. A pool of dark red liquid, his blood, began to appear around him and slowly increased in diameter.

I couldn't believe what I had just seen. It happened so fast. Was I even sure it had happened at all? It was a confusing blur and the only clarity I had left was Goldstein's body and Hermione still standing there with the gun in her hand. From the barrel a thin line of grey and blue smoke slowly snaked upwards signalling that it had just been fired. It had indeed happened.

"We should go!" said Luke snapping me out of my daze. "Let's leave him for the Death Eaters to find." Both he and Gary lead Gabrielle outside and soon three faint popping sounds echoed back in to the now darkened room where I still stood with Hermione. Her arm grew tired as it slowly began to lower. Her face remained motionless but her eyes were screaming. I walked over to her and took the gun out of her hand. I went to comfort her but she rejected the notion and simply walked away.

There is nothing more painful than to know that someone you love has changed so dramatically in an instant that you fail to recognise them. I knew at that moment that the Hermione I knew was gone. She had crossed a line from which there is no going back.


	20. The Road Travelled

I barely recognised the woman that stood beside me in the staff room at our headquarters. Hermione had kept hold of the gun ever since we had left the farmhouse refusing to let it go until finally I pried it from her hands. Even as I took it her hand remained in its clutching position as if she were now holding an invisible weapon. I handed the gun to Gary and he stored it away in a concealed locker in the staff room. Luke had gone with Gabrielle to make sure that she got back okay. Gabrielle had assured us that no one would suspect her of any involvement and that she could talk her way out of trouble if they did. Tarquin, our resident Mediwizard, had gone to Mr Johnson's house to make sure the old muggle was okay after we had requisitioned his home for the night.

With the gun stored away both Hermione and I returned to our room. The walk through the corridors of the old abandoned muggle school was a quiet and uncomfortable one. She kept her eyes firmly ahead and never once turned them to the side to look at me. I on the other hand couldn't keep my eyes off her for more than a few seconds as I subconsciously searched for the woman I knew as Hermione Granger. Her whole appearance had seemed to change since the shooting and for the love of me I couldn't figure out why?

We walked into our room, our honorary home in this community of rebels. I removed my cloak and placed on the back of a chair as she walked over to the bed and sat on the side of it with her back to me. She lifted her head and looked out through a gap in the blankets that draped over the immense classroom windows. It wasn't until I came and sat beside her that I could see what she was staring at. The heavy winter cloud that had been obscuring the night sky had brought with it small flakes of snow that were beginning to fall slowly outside.

"It's going to be a cold one," I said mundanely trying desperately to get her to speak but she simply nodded slightly without tearing her gaze away from outside. "Hermione?" My voice bordered on pleading with her for some attention. "Hermione…Look at me!" I lifted up my hand to her chin and turned her face to the side so that she had no choice but look at me but still she said nothing. "Talk to me."

"About what?" she murmured finally with a voice that sounded very dry.

"You know what about," I answered. "I think you need to talk about it."

"There's nothing to talk about," she said, again very dryly. I wouldn't be dissuaded that easily.

"I think there is a lot to talk about. I mean this has been a big night for you. For us! I just want you to know I'm here for you." Her eyes looked down for a moment before she lifted them back up as if she had considered speaking but then decided against it. I knew I was getting through, if only just for a little, and so I pressed harder for her to open up. "How…How are you feeling about what happened?"

"Can I ask _you _something?" she asked to which I begrudgingly agreed as this wasn't about me. "When you shot Borgin with a gun, how did you feel? I mean how did you really feel?"

My mind went back to that moment in search of an answer. I was back in his shop watching as his dead body fell to the floor. I tried to identify every emotion that I experienced as the memory played out as clear as though I were viewing it through a Pensieve. I felt disgust at the sight of the mutilated body. I felt anger that I had to do such a thing. Shock that I had done it. Fear that I was going to get caught. All these things I listed to Hermione until I ran out of emotions and so I turned back to her and asked, "Why? What did you feel?" referring to Goldstein.

She looked away before answering, "Nothing! I felt…nothing."

I didn't know how to respond. For all her intellect and logic Hermione Granger was quite an emotionally driven person. I had expected her to be awash with emotion but she sat there as if all her emotions had been turned off leaving a blank empty shell. We cuddled afterwards before falling to sleep but the act had lost all its warmth and it felt as though it was out of habit and nothing else.

* * *

There was little change in Hermione the next morning. She barely spoke to me or anyone else at breakfast and I just had to accept that she needed her space for the time being. I comforted myself with the notion that she would come to me when she was ready.

It was at breakfast that Luke had come with some bad news for us. Our inventory was looking distinctly thin. Our offensive had consumed much of the supplies we had stored away and we needed to stock up or risk loosing our momentum and so it was decided that one of us would have to visit the nearby magical town of Witchbridge. I saw this as a chance for me to get away for a bit and leave Hermione be and so I quickly volunteered. I knew the places where to get the things we needed, places where the shopkeepers didn't ask too many questions or had poor book keeping staff which meant that their taxes to the Ministry where not up to date so to speak.

Before the Dark Lord came to power the only all-wizarding village in Britain was Hogsmeade near Hogwarts School. Since then the Dark Establishment had begun the process of ethnic cleansing the British Isles of the majority of the muggle population. At first this was done manually by groups of Death Eaters roaming the countryside but this proved inefficient and so the Dark Lord unleashed the Plague. Millions were killed except for in certain 'muggle zones' where they continued to live out of the way of the Death Eaters. Some unfortunate muggles were taken in by the Muggle Management Agency to serve as slaves for Death Eater families, something that had become quite fashionable. House-elves were treated better than these muggles. Where the muggle towns, cities and villages once stood there were now either an all-magical settlement or just simply ruins. Witchbridge was once known by its muggle name as Bridgend but now there wasn't a trace of non-magical life in the town. It would have been one thing for the ethnic cleansing to have ended with the muggles but it wasn't enough for the Dark Establishment's pure blood mania. They then turned on Squibs before ending with any Wizard who was deemed below normal wizarding standards. It was horrific.

I gathered up the money from our safe some of which had come from the savings of our members whereas some of it we had acquired from the Death Eaters themselves. I put on my travelling cloak and readied myself to apparate to the magical town located some twenty six miles away. The only thing I took with me was my wand. I didn't even take my Sneakoglobe since it was unusual magic that might draw attention to me. I was talking with Gary in the main hall of the school when Hermione appeared at the door. I was both surprised and thankful that she had come to seem me off.

"Be careful!" she said quietly.

"I will," I replied. I walked over to her and kissed her gently. She was still detached from the emotion somehow but at least I could take this moment with me. I said my goodbyes and prepared myself to apparate away.

I felt the usual sensation one gets when apparating. It's like being squeezed through a rather tight tube and is a very disorienting experience. Suddenly the experience was interrupted. I felt myself being ripped back as though I had been caught by a giant elastic band which was recoiling back. Before my mind could even comprehend what was going on I landed quite hard on a thin layer of snow. The impact had wiped away the soft snow and I made contact with the hard road underneath.

Disorientated, I could just make out a voice calling out, "Hey! There's one!" I lifted my head and tried to focus as I saw the outline of someone rushing towards me.

"Your wand, where is it?" The voice snarled down at me as my vision began to come back. To my horror I found I was lying at the feet of a Ministerial Security Force officer. "Your wand, where is it?" I could see his arm was outstretched and the tip of his wand was pointing threateningly towards my face. I had no choice but to cooperate and so I reached into my cloak and very slowly took out my own wand which the MSF officer snatched from my hand and tucked it into the belt of his grey uniform. "Levicorpus!" I felt myself being magically levitated into the air and my body was folded into a kneeling position with my hands placed behind my head before being lowered back onto the ground quite harshly.

Kneeling upright I managed to take a look around and found that I was on a road in the snow covered countryside. In front of me two more MSF officers were busily interrogating a young witch no older than twenty and a small boy who I presumed was her brother. One of the MSF officers was patting the young wizard on the head in a rather grotesque display of kindness no doubt an effort to win favour with the attractive sister. Directly infront of me and the Death Eaters there was an ominous blue glow that formed a transparent wall. I recognised it as a rather strong anti-apparating charm. This explained how I was pulled here and I felt some relief that I had found myself infront of an MSF checkpoint rather than the victim of a deliberate trap.

The MSF officer who had my wand looked down at me and growled, "You stay there and don't move!" I didn't need him to explain what would happen if I did and so I stayed kneeling on the floor shivering from a mix of the cold in the air and the fear that was gripping me. As I watched the third officer walk back to the other two who were still talking to the brother and sister I tried to calm myself down. I knew that if I was going to get through this I needed to focus. A few moments later the young witch and her brother were allowed to pass through the anti-apparating charm and they quickly disappeared in a loud popping sound.

The three of them then turned their attention to me. I felt like a dying animal that had been spotted by a group of Hyenas as the three of them looked towards me with menacing eyes. I tried desperately to control my breathing and sang songs in my head to try and focus on something else but it proved impossible. They were now no more than five metres from me when they stopped. A pair of slight popping sounds suddenly emanated from behind me and the three of them looked in their direction. The menacing look that covered their faces evaporated as they seemed to take a step back. The one holding my wand in his belt suddenly gasped, "Commandant! It-It's an honour."

Another officer appeared beside me. Not daring to look upward I could only see the bottom half of his uniform through the corner of my eyes. It was made of finer material than the standard uniform and had a long cloak covering the length of his body. I suspected who it was but couldn't believe my own bad luck as I heard the officer speak, "Why is this man on his knees?"

The three MSF officers who had been manning the checkpoint struggled to find an answer and they genuinely looked terrified because of it. The higher ranking officer walked in front of me and leaned down to help me onto my feet. I was now standing face to face with Caleb Byars, the head of the Auror Office and by the same token Commandant of the Ministerial Security Forces. He was quite a well built man with a clean shaven pale face and well groomed blond hair.

"I must apologise for the conduct of my men," Byars said to me rather politely. "My name is Byars. I command these men. My predecessor believed that brute force was the order of the day and this attitude has, somewhat regrettably, filtered down to the lower ranks. I on the other hand believe in a gentler approach Mr...Um?" Byars signalled for me to give my name.

"Guild, Brian Guild." There was no point lying to him about my identity. So far my name had been kept away from their attention and in this situation it was better to be truthful than risk being discovered that I was deceiving them.

"Here you go sir," said a petite feminine voice. A dark haired young female MSF officer, Byars' aide, handed him an enchanted book with which she had written my name and a list of information had no doubt appeared on the page. I knew that almost all the current information the Ministry had on me was false. We had gone to great lengths to doctor the paperwork explaining where we resided and what we did for a living just for situations like this. Byars took a moment to read from the enchanted book before stopping at a specific point.

"Ah!" he gasped excitedly. "A fellow Ravenclaw student I see. Wit beyond measure…"

"Is man's greatest treasure," I murmured sensing it was best to play along while at the same time feeling disgust that we had both belonged to the same house at Hogwarts. I was not going to let the polite face of Caleb Byars fool me. I knew what he was capable of and the warning from Gabrielle echoed in my thoughts. Byars finished reading the page and seemed satisfied with the information on it before handing it back to his aide.

"So Mr Guild," he said aloud. "May I ask why you are travelling today?"

"I'm going into Witchbridge on errands," I explained as confidently as I could.

"Such as?" asked Byars smiling.

"A few things…Cursolon Weed!" I blurted out sensing that vague answers weren't going to suffice. "A friend of mine has come down with a fever and Cursolon Weed has a calming effect."

"Ah I see," said Byars politely. "Well then we won't keep you any longer than we have to. This will only take a moment. I'm afraid one of my officers has been murdered and we are looking for the culprits." Byars signalled to one of the MSF officers to begin searching me with his wand. I held out my arms as the wand was passed over the length of my body twice before the officer turned back to Byars and shook his head. "There you see. What did I tell you? No time at all. Please give him his wand back." The MSF officer who had taken my wand grudgingly handed it back and I returned it to the inner pocket of my cloak. "You are free to go Mr Guild. Once again I apologise for the interruption."

"That's quite alright," I replied. "Necessary evil I suppose."

"Oh I like that!" smiled Byars. "Very appropriate saying. Muggle isn't it?"

My heart froze! To be associated with anything to do with muggles, even something as simple as a muggle saying, was to invite trouble. I had to think of something quickly as I saw that Byars was waiting for an explanation.

"I don't know," I replied. "I've just heard it being said here and there."

"Ah! Well then, good day!"

I quickly acknowledged the sentiment and walked as calmly as I could towards the anti-apparition charm. As I walked through it I could sense that all five MSF officers were watching me to see what I would do. I could feel their eyes boring into the back of my head and I fought the urge to run with all my strength. I finally stepped through the charm and I soon felt the sensation of being squeezed through the tube once again only to arrive on the outskirts of Witchbridge.

I have never been so relieved in my life.


	21. Witchbridge

The town of Witchbridge resembled Hogsmeade in winter with the thin layer of snow that was now covering the steep sloping roofs and narrow winding roads. It was not a particularly large town but it was densly built with magically stretched houses and shops that were significantly bigger on the inside.

I stood at the bottom of the main road that ran through the town with my feet resting in the snow. My warm breath quickly condensed and twisted away from my face in the cold air that encircled me and seemed to bite against my exposed skin that was not undercover. My nerves were still fraying from the encounter at the checkpoint and I wondered if the shaking in my legs was due to the cold or the adrenalin.

Suddenly my mind went to work. I was standing still for too long. The MSF spy network existed in every magical town in Britain and the slightest thing out of the ordinary was recorded and reported for investigation. An investigation often meant torture. I quickly tried to compose myself and began walking up the main road. I made every effort possible to make it look like I knew where I was going. I quickly made my way passed the rows of shops that sold various items ranging from clothing to exotic plants and even a few weapon shops. Despite the usefulness such a place would have to a resistance cell our group never entered those shops. They were almost always being observed by the MSF. We even suspected that several were in fact run by the MSF in an attempt to uncover resistance groups trying to arm themselves.

My heart still raced almost uncontrollably underneath my travelling cloak and I knew I had to calm myself down or I would start making mistakes. About halfway up the main road was a small cafe and so I decided to take a few moments to catch my breath and gather my thoughts. I walked through the door and a bell sounded my entrance. There were only six people in the cafe. Four of them were what appeared to be a small family on a shopping trip. On the other side of the room I saw that there was a young witch in her twenties sitting with a younger wizard. As her eyes met mine I suddenly realized that this was the same brother and sister who had gone before me through the checkpoint. We both shared a polite nod indicating we recognized each other and I suspected that she was interested in making conversation about my own experience after she had left but I made it clear that I wasn't interested in discussing it. It was not that I was particularly rude but rather I didn't want her to be seen with me if I was discovered as being a member of the resistance.

I stood at the counter looking up at the menu placed across the back wall looking for something to help with my nervous disposition. A woman suddenly appeared from the kitchen and walked upto me. She had dark auburn hair and a rather infectious smile, a rarity in this day and age.

"Hello love," she said beaming. "What can I get you?"

"Uh..." My eyes searched the menu almost desperately for something to order until they finally rested on Chinese red tea; a beverage known to have a calming effect on the body.

"Coming right up," she chirped as she went about making it for me. "I'm guessing you were stopped at the checkpoint they've set up around the town?"

I knew at that point that it must have been obvious that I was still thrown by the encounter and this made the tea all the more necessary for me. I nodded as she handed me the tea just after I gave her the money. To my surprise she suddenly tossed me a chocolate frog and said, "To help rebuild your strength."

I chuckled before thanking her and taking my seat near the window so I could keep an eye on events out in the street. The window had a long white net curtain hanging over it but was thin enough for me to be able to see in all directions and still obscure the features of my face to anyone looking in. The tea went a long way to calming me down. It tasted quite bitter but I was glad to have had it by the time I was finished. Sitting in the cafe I began to ponder my next move. I knew that to try and transport the supplies across the checkpoint was going to be almost impossible now and therefore I had to make arrangements to hide them just outside the town for retrieval at a later time when things calmed back down.

Having finished my tea I once again nodded my appreciation to the woman behind the counter and started my way out into the street. I made my way towards a shop at the far end of the town where I could buy Phalanx powder. Phalanx powder was a type of fertilizer that could be used to cultivate certain living plants like Mandrake in the colder temperatures of the British Isles. Using the right mix of Phalanx powder and Incentious Weed creates a rather impressive explosive force with only a small amount. Ideal for Gary's Snitch bombs.

It was as I passed the official Witchbridge Owlery that I noticed that a crowd had gathered outside the small building. They were looking at a poster that had been set up on the wall with some interest. Since there were so many people gathered around I felt that it would actually look more suspicious if I didn't see what the commotion was all about.

I slowly made my way through the crowd that was consumed with hushed whispers although I clearly heard one or two who were brave enough to utter the words, "Serves the bastard's right." I waited for the crowd to begin to disperse and allow me access to the poster. Several heads were still in the way when I heard someone say, "Bloody hell! She's alive!"

This was quickly followed by, "She's a bloody murderer! All she's done is make things worse for the rest of us."

By now my mind had reached a conclusion but I had to confirm it. With a new vigor I began to push my way forward until I had a clear view of the poster. There on the poster was a moving picture of Hermione in a red dress. It had clearly been cropped from a larger photograph and I could see an arm draped around her shoulder. She looked genuinely happy in the scene that was playing out on the magical image. It was a happiness I had never really seen from her in the time that I had known her and although it was her face I didn't truly recognize the girl in the image. The Hermione I knew was that far removed from the one in the image.

Snapping myself out of the near hypnotic glare I had put myself in I looked at the words written underneath;

_REWARD 25,000 GALLEONS  
Hermione Jean Granger  
Wanted for murder and acts of terrorism against the state._

Underneath was a physical description of Hermione including her typical bushy brown hair. I was stunned at the sight of this poster. We had been so certain that they would want to keep knowledge of Hermione being alive a secret. We had assumed that they would want to prevent her becoming some kind of martyr and yet here they were appealing for information. Clearly Byars was adopting different tactics to his predecessor. As more and more people started to push in to see the poster I decided to carry on up the road. Suddenly a voice boomed up the road. I turned around to see that an MSF officer had stood up on a podium that he had brought with him in miniaturized form before returning it to its full size to speak in the middle of town.

"May I have your attention please!" he called out with his wand pressed against his neck to amplify his voice. "May I have your attention? Citizens of the magical community of Witchbridge; a darkness has descended on our pure and honest way of life. The terrorist and murderer Hermione Granger has struck again! Last night she and her accomplices murdered an MSF Captain in the course of his duties. We now know that it is this vile and despicable witch who disgraces our world that has been carrying out the muggle gun murders. This woman has no care for wizarding life! She and her associates have proven themselves willing to kill indiscriminately. Until now we have decided to keep the full extent of what these terrorists have done under wraps not to alarm the general public but now we have been forced to reveal the true horror of what these self proclaimed _resistance fighters_ have done. It is your right to see just what these..._people_ are capable of!"

The MSF officer took his wand and pointed it underneath the podium. Stacks of paper began to levitate from behind the podium and were soon making their way through the crowd. I waited until one of the stacks floated passed me and I took one off the top to look at it. There was a smaller version of the picture of Hermione on the wanted poster at the top of the page but there was a second picture at the bottom. I recognized the scene immediately. It was a picture of Goldstein's dead body slumped over in the farmhouse with the bullet hole still in his head and a pool of blood all over the floor.

It soon changed and displayed a picture of Borgin's body. It then continued to change and displayed every single person we had killed since we began our offensive. As I looked at the images looping on the piece of paper it felt as though my nightmares had been turned to magical print and handed to me. The MSF officer returned his wand to his neck and began to speak once more.

"I know that these images are quite alarming. You would not be an honest and true witch or wizard if they did not disturb you. But for your own good you must know what Granger and her terrorists are capable of. I know that some of you may have heard the propaganda that is being spewed out about these people. The romanticizing of Granger's terrorist cell must end. They are nothing more than criminals who wish to harm you, your family and our way of life! Are you going to just allow this bloodshed to continue or will you make a stand? Tomorrow this Owlery is going to be replaced by a new Ministerial Security Forces recruitment office. If you have the courage and moral fibre to fight the tyranny of Hermione Granger and are willing to do something about it then I implore you to sign up and help us fight this WAR!"

I had to confess that the speech was quite rousing but its impact on the crowd was mixed. There was a lot of chatter about the grotesque images looping on the handouts and for that I could not blame any of them but I was genuinely worried about what some of them were thinking. Some of them were buying into what the officer was saying and soon the crowd was awash with discussion about who was right and wrong. Voldermort's propaganda machine was in full swing.

Given the atmosphere that was forming in the town I decided to abandon the supply run altogether. It simply wasn't safe to continue with it. I was sure that Luke was going to be quite displeased by my failure but I took the attitude that it was better to play it safe.

Besides, Hermione had to hear what was being said about her.


	22. Gloves Come Off

There are some nights you remember forever. That night when I returned from Witchbridge was one of those nights I would remember for the rest of my life. I returned to the school at about 7pm after having to endure yet another checkpoint on the way back. I felt relieved to have made the right decision in abandoning the supply run. The MSF group who stopped me on the way back were more polite and professional than the previous group of thugs. No doubt Byars had paid them a visit as well and were now a little more polite about the way they conducted themselves.

I called Hermione, Gary and Luke into a meeting in the staff room. I will never forget her eyes that night as I explained what I had learned from my trip. They were vague and cloudy as though a shield had been placed over them preventing the outside world from penetrating inside her. She revealed nothing about how she was feeling not even to me.

Luke was especially agitated at the news I had brought from Witchbridge. I didn't understand why he was so worried about this development since this was hardly the first time we had found ourselves in the sights of the Dark Establishment. The only real difference this time was that they had Hermione's face emblazoned across wanted posters up and down the country. They had done to our organization what we had tried to avoid. They had presonified our fight using Hermione as the poster girl. They were putting a face on the fight against us and filling the minds of the general population with bile and venom.

"Look!" I pleaded with him for the third time since I had returned. "This is just another clamp down the ministry is putting in force. We've been through them before and if we keep our wits about us then we will get through this one."

Hermione sat alone with the poster I had brought back in her hand staring at it intently. Occasionally she would place her fingertips delicately on the photograph as if the girl in the moving picture was someone she used to know. An old friend who had disappeared from her life never to return. I sat next to her halfway through the course of my briefing and during the conversation that followed I tried to speak directly to her but all of my advances were rebuffed. It was almost as if she wanted to keep herself locked in this spiral of self pity and loathing that she had descended into in the past twenty four hours since she had executed Goldstein. Whatever she was going through she was going to do it alone whether I wanted her to or not.

"Our supply situation is still quite low," added Gary, "but we do have enough to maintain operations for several more days. However, I would recommend that we keep our heads down for a bit until this blows over. Keep our remaining supplies for defending headquarters should we need them. Our food stocks will hold out for almost a month-"

"You mean bury our heads in the sand and hope this problem just goes away!" shot Luke almost angrily. "And what happens if at the end of the month when we are forced to come out of hiding we find the countryside to be crawling with a newly created Ministerial army hunting us down? No, we need to act now while they're still unorganized."

"I agree with Luke," I added. "We do have to act fast on this."

"What did you have in mind?" asked Gary somewhat weary of the idea of launching further operations with dwindling supplies and in the face of a new clamp down.

In my mind I had been toying with an idea ever since I got back from Witchbridge earlier that day but only now did I decide to voice it to the others. "A bomb!"

"A bomb?" repeated Luke quizzically. "What's the target?"

I went on to explain, "The recruiting centre in Witchbridge. It opens tomorrow but right now it is still the public owlery. We bomb it tonight before it becomes operational."

"Well how exactly is that worth our effort?" asked Gary who was eager to point out an obvious flaw. "Just because the building is gone doesn't mean their recruiting drive will be affected too much. They will just change the venue to somewhere else."

"You're missing the point," Hermion said calmly as she placed the poster down on the chair beside her. Her sudden interruption silenced all of us as we waited for her to continue. She stood up and turned to face the three of us with her arms comfortably folded as she spoke. "If anybody considering joining up with the Ministry is afraid that they will be bombed then they will probably reconsider and stay home. We need to make people afraid of helping the MSF and the Auror Office. We are losing the battle for the hearts and minds of the people because the Dark Establishment controls the flow of information. Every act we carry out the Ministry puts a twist on it in the subsequent report in the Daily Prophet. The trouble with lies like that is that after a while, once you've told them enough times, you start to believe them. There are people out there now who are starting to believe the propaganda they're spinning about us and considering joining up to fight us. We have to discourage them. The way to do that is to make them afraid of us as a terrorist organization."

Her words cut through the air like cold daggers thrown at the three of us. Listening to her we each embarked on a train of thought that lead to a dark place. I glanced at Luke and saw that he was listening to her and bizarrely for him he had set his ego aside and was silently standing in agreement with her. Gary on the other hand had turned white with horror. He stood open mouthed in disbelief at what he was hearing as Hermione continued;

"We still have the advantage here at the moment," she said. "They don't know if we are four people or four thousand. They don't know where our centre of operations is because we have attacked our targets across a wide area with no descernable pattern to identify and localize us. They are afraid of us and that's why they are turning us into this monster in the press. They want to rally the people against us and turn themselves into the heroes. We cant fight that on the same level. So we need to change tactics. We aren't just targetting high ranking officers anymore or individuals who have done something special to earn our attention. We are now targetting anyone who has or is helping the Death Eaters. From their officers down to their most subordinate members. Anyone! The gloves are coming off."

"Listen to yourself!" barked Gary over her voice that had barely changed its tone. "You're talking about spreading terror into the lives of ordinary people and not just the Death Eaters. That's-that's sick!"

"Think of it more as a necessity given the current situation," I said jumping in. It was at that moment I felt a guilty lump appear in my throat. I had been so quick to defend Hermione out of my feelings for her that I had failed to truly appreciate the enormity of what she was saying. Yes - we were planning on spreading an element of fear to the general population and several years earlier that might have seen like a truly dispicable act to even contemplate. But as I sat there in that room at that precise moment it made perfect sense to me. No it was more than that. At that point I felt it was a necessity. In my thoughts I tried to justify it with the fact that the Dark Establishment were forcing us to take this action but I remembered one of the things Dumbledore used to tell us when we were at Hogwarts; there is always a choice in every situation, it's simply a case of looking hard enough for the right answer which is not always the most obvious one.

Gary was still not convinced. He was passionately committed to his own idea of how we should have proceeded from that day onwards. He turned to me for support but only found my silence as his reply.

"I'll have no part in this," he declared.

"I don't understand why you're so upset," said Luke whose agitation had subsided now that we had a plan of action to undertake. "We are still talking about hitting an MSF target just like every other one we have ever hit."

"It's not the target itself," he replied. "Its the reasoning behind its selection. He who studies evil..."

Gary didn't need to say anymore. He simply dissmissed himself from our company leaving us in stunned silence. This was indeed a first for us. Although we'd had differences in opinion before this was the first time that it had boiled over to this point. I found it hard to truly understand Gary's problem. At the time I felt that he really didn't understand the situation we were faced with. He had been the one who had clung onto the romantic notion of being a freedom fighter as opposed to a terrorist longer than the rest of us had and I felt he was still quite naive about the whole thing.

"I'm going to go and get ready," said Luke after a short pause and soon he too left the room leaving me and Hermione alone with the photograph that was still magically looping back on itself. The girl in the image was a stark contrast to the woman who sat next to me. I tried several times to open my mouth to speak to her but each attempt failed as I knew she didn't want to talk to me. I had to feel like I was doing something even if it failed to get a response. I just couldn't leave it there but instead I found my mouth unable to form the words I so desperately wanted to come out. In the end I didn't have to. At some seemingly random point she decided to speak.

"She has no idea of what's ahead of her," she uttered in a tone so low it was almost a whisper.

"None of us did," I added while I myself thought back to a more innocent time before Voldermort came to power.

"Let me ask you something, Brian? If, back then, you knew what was going to happen what would you have done differently?"

I had never really thought about it before. I tried to come up with some profound and awe inspsiring answer but I found none anywhere in my thoughts. Instead I found myself asking a question rather than giving an answer.

"What would _you_ have done differently?" I asked.

She sighed before answering, "I would have told Anthony Goldstein to stay at his post rather than wander off from the castle's defences."

I felt relieved that she was finally talking about Goldstein and almost excitedly I jumped in with, "You can't blame yourself what happened with Goldstein. You did what had to be done."

"No, you don't understand," she said looking at me properly for felt like the first time in ages. "We knew we were doomed. We were all prepared for the final battle. We were ready to die. If Goldstein hadn't let them through our defences then they would have had to attack the castle directly." I wasn't sure where she was going with this until she finally uttered, "Perhaps I could have died with the others?"

"Is that what you want?" I asked, stunned by her answer. She didn't reply verbally but her eyes said it all. It was as if her soul had been torn into pieces and then crudely put back together so that it was never whole again. For me this begged the question; "What about us? Do you regret that?"

"We should never have happened," she said coldly and without feeling as though she were giving her opinion on some book she had read and then disagreed with. For me it felt like the floor was giving way beneath me and I was being swallowed whole by the Earth. She stared at me with eyes that dared for me to challenge her. She seemed to be looking for a fight specifically with me but I wouldn't entertain the notion.

Like a wounded animal I stumbled out of the room, my heart hanging low and heavy in my chest. Even if it was only to take my mind off Hermione's rejection I threw myself into the task at hand; bombing our target in Witchbridge. With Gary refusing to take part it was down to me and Luke.


End file.
