Harry, Ron, and Hermione staggered off their brooms and into the hallway outside the Room of Requirement. Malfoy and Goyle fell from the brooms and crashed to the floor, semiconscious.
But there was no time for them to regroup. As they stood there, a mob of panicked students came racing into the corridor from the direction of the front of the castle, with Order members and teachers mixed in. Harry could see Lupin, one of his arms badly burned, nonetheless carrying Tonks, who was covered in blood but stirring feebly. Flitwick was levitating several younger students, unconscious or dead, who must have snuck back to join the fight. To Harry’s relief, he saw Ginny in this mob, unhurt, and shouting angrily at some others, apparently trying to get them to regroup. Loud banging and blasts of spells could be heard behind them.
–There are too many!†Lupin shouted, seeing Harry. –We can’t hold them!â€
–We’ve found what we needed to find!†Harry bellowed back over the din. –We’ve got the Basilisk fang, we can destroy it—actually, that seems to be done already,†he told Lupin as the group came up to the trio and Harry spotted the heap of ash.
–It must have been Fiendfyre,†Hermione said, sounding frightened. –It is—–
–Damn it, not now!†Terry Boot snapped.
–Everyone inside!†Lupin called, opening the re-formed door to the Room of Requirement. –It will take them quite a while to get in here.†He quickly helped Tonks inside and set her down gently against the wall.
–We’ve lost?†Harry demanded.
–Essentially, yes,†Lupin answered, as people began streaming past him into the Room. –I…I don’t know…†Harry had never seen him this overwhelmed, this beaten. –We could not hold our positions. Everything went wrong…someone would back up a bit to get a better angle, then someone else would think he was running, start running himself, and set off a stampede. There was friendly fire, the acromantulas, the…â€
There was a series of loud bangs, followed by a crash as part of the ceiling fell in, and Kingsley came running around the corner and down the corridor. –Is everyone inside?†he asked, loudly but with his usual calm.
–Just about,†Lupin answered, truthfully. –Of course, there are probably people cut off elsewhere in the castle. Did you see the Weasley twins?â€
Right on cue, Fred and George came hurrying up the corridor the other way, along with several other students, one of whom was wounded and being levitated.
–We held the passage gallantly—"
–By which we mean no one actually tried to get through it—â€
–Then we got your Patronus—â€
–So here we are for the glorious last stand.â€
–Get inside!†Lupin shouted, as a curse flew past them. Death Eaters were coming up the corridor; Lupin and Kingsley shot Stunners into them and a couple toppled. Ron shoved Hermione into the Room and seemed to be preparing to fight when Harry grabbed him and dragged him inside as well, followed by Fred and George’s group. Lupin and Kingsley were the last in, several curses narrowly missing them as they slammed the door and locked it.
Everyone paused for a moment, literally and mentally catching his breath. Harry scanned the room and estimated that two-thirds of the people who had been in the Great Hall were now here. He forced aside thoughts about the fates of the other third, turning to examine the door. The door, meeting the needs of its occupants, had become solid stone, with multiple bolts and bars, no doubt magically reinforced. Harry had never found a way to break into the Room of Requirement, he thought…but who knew what Voldemort could do?
–Right,†Lupin said after a moment. –We need to decide what to do. I recommend we evacuate via the Hog’s Head, then disperse again. They have no way to track us once we have Disapparated. Sooner or later they will find a way through that door, or else —â€
The portal to the Hog’s Head passage crashed open. Wands were trained on it instantly, but it was Aberforth, who whirled and slammed the door behind him.
–They must have heard the noise,†he said bitterly. –The Death Eaters broke into the pub. We’re trapped.â€
Someone screamed, and a hubbub of panic started to break out.
–QUIET,†Kingsley Shacklebolt boomed.
Arthur Weasley forced his way through the mob to where Kingsley was.
–Kingsley, Lupin,†he muttered, –Do you recall the discussion we had about a plan of mine? That we agreed would be a last resort?â€
Harry looked at Hermione and Ron, confused, but neither of them displayed any glimmer of understanding. Before they could ask questions, Arthur continued.
–I think we have reached our last resort,†he said quietly.
Kingsley and Lupin exchanged glances.
–What you propose is very dangerous,†Lupin said.
–You know what You-Know, oh, yes, Voldemort, thinks of Muggles. It is no more dangerous to them than otherwise. Without the Ministry of Magic, we cannot protect the Prime Minister. And with the enemy controlling the government, Muggles will have no way to fight back.â€
–That is not exactly the danger I was referring to,†Lupin answered, but was cut off by Kingsley.
–Arthur is right,†Kingsley said. –We are opening a can of worms, but at this point, I agree that we have no other viable options. The question is, how can we accomplish it? I will need to reach the PM’s office, fight my way through any enemies there, and remove any Imperius Curse which he may be under.â€
–Hominem revilio,†Hermione muttered, wand pointed at the secret passage. –There is no one within the passage yet,†she announced. –Is it necessary to reach the Hog’s Head to be able to Disapparate, or can it be done within the passage? Yes, I know one should not Apparate in distorted space, but in a case like this—–
–If Kingsley comes out with his head on upside down, he won’t be any use,†Ron put in. Arthur opened his mouth, probably to tell them to stay out of this, but Harry caught his eye and he closed it again.
–What we require is a way for Kingsley to reach the Hog’s Head without being seen,†Lupin summarized. –If he can take one step inside the Hog’s Head, he can Disapparate.â€
Harry immediately thought of the Invisibility Cloak, but hesitated. It was a Hallow, it was his, it had been passed down from his father, and reluctance caught him for a moment—but only a moment, and he swiftly pulled it out, feeling ashamed.
–You can use this,†he said, offering it to Kingsley.
–It is a good thought, but they will have spells in place—–
–This Invisibility Cloak is…special.â€
–Are you certain that this will work?†Kingsley asked, staring at Harry intensely.
–Do you have a better idea?†Ron broke in loudly.
–What do we do?!†someone in the crowd behind them shouted.
–We’re gonna die!†screamed someone else.
–We will not die—not today, at any rate,†Lupin snapped, turning to face the crowd. –We have a plan. Right now, we need to get organized.†He began snapping out directions, ordering some to care for the wounded, others to try to reinforce the doors, and still others to send Patronus messages apprising people of the situation and asking for help. Hannah Abbot tried to ask him a question, but he put her off and hurried over to Tonks, taking her hand as he examined her wounds.
Kingsley took the Cloak. He put it on. His footfalls were inaudible in the general hubbub, but Harry watched as the passage door swung open, and then shut again. Hermione started towards a wounded Ravenclaw, then stopped and turned to Lupin.
–Would you please explain what you and Kingsley were talking about?â€
–That would be nice, yes,†Harry put in.
Lupin hesitated, and Arthur jumped in. –It occurred to me, after the Ministry fell, that the Muggles are in just as much danger as we are. Voldemort does not want them to exist, to take up space that could be used to give pureblood wizards massive estates.â€
–Also, if the Muggles are all murdered, no more Muggle-borns, solving another problem,†Lupin added, walking back towards them.
–Right…so this is their fight, as well. With the weapons they have now, they’d have a decent chance against the Death Eaters. Kingsley is going to get the Prime Minister to call in the Muggle military.â€
–It violates the Statute of Secrecy, which is why we were so reluctant.â€
–As we discussed earlier, other countries’ wizards are not coming to help us in any event,†Arthur returned, –and if we lose, it will be a moot point—Voldemort will be able to do whatever he wants.â€
–Don’t Muggles just have those metal wand things?†Ron asked. –You know, the, what is it, guns. A Shield Charm can stop those. What?â€
Harry, Hermione, and Arthur looked at each other. –I’ll explain,†Hermione said. She started to tell him about tanks, and judging by the expression on Ron’s face, this process was going to take a while.
Harry’s mind was whirling. It had never occurred to him to try this. He had been so entranced by magic, all those years ago, that he hadn’t questioned it. Thoughts triggered others, like masses of dominoes tumbling one after the other. Was it really reasonable for wizards to do nothing about Muggles’ problems because wizards were –best left alone� Of course Muggles would try to make petty and stupid demands on wizards’ time, but…Healers could Apparate to respond to 999 calls, arriving in seconds instead of minutes. They could put up enchantments between those places in the Middle East, Israel and Gaza, stop rockets or missiles from going either way…and this was just the tip of the iceberg…
But Harry was suddenly jolted back to this reality by a series of loud bangs outside the door back into Hogwarts. The blasting got faster and louder, sounding like more than one wizard outside was doing it. The floor started to vibrate slightly, but there was no visible damage to the door.
–They’re breaking in!†a Hufflepuff girl yelled behind them.
–It will take much more than that to break through,†Lupin said confidently. As if on cue, the blasting stopped. Following a collective sigh of relief, Lupin spoke more quietly, and to Hermione, who was trying to explain to Ron how heat-seeking missiles worked. –Kindly help me strengthen the door.â€
Hermione got up and followed him over; they began muttering incantations. Ron looked at Harry, slightly stunned.
–Blimey, I had no idea,†he said. –Did you know all this?â€
–Oh, some of it. Back before I knew I was a wizard, you know, Muggle boys are, you know, they always think soldiers and tanks and…things…like that are cool. It’s like with…with Chocolate Frogs.â€
–It’s instinct,†Hermione said, looking up from her work with Lupin. –The purpose of play is to practice skills needed for survival as an adult. So boys evolved to play with, and be interested in, things involving war.â€
–Evolved?†Ron asked.
–I’ll explain later,†Hermione answered, noticing Lupin looking at her. –Protego horribilis…â€
Harry got up and began to wander through the room. He watched as Hannah Abbot and Lupin tried to care for Tonks. Ginny was busy consoling a crying second-year, who had somehow been left behind. A Ravenclaw sixth-year shot Patronuses from her wand as quickly as she could, sending wisps of vapor speeding out of the room to various destinations; Lupin had said to get anyone willing to help grouped outside Hogsmeade, to try to retake the pub. Malfoy and Goyle didn’t seem to be there, and Harry wondered, with more of a sense of curiosity than real concern, what had happened to them.
And with that thought, it gradually crept over him who else he wasn’t seeing. Dean Thomas, Angelina Johnson…and Cho. Harry walked through the group again, scanning frantically, then abruptly stopped. He really didn’t want to be sure; he didn’t really want to know how many people were now dead because of him.
**************************************************************************
Kingsley Shacklebolt had to dodge several Death Eaters in the tunnel, but they seemed to be too confident in their spells. Once or twice he felt the shock as a spell attempted to reveal him, but the Cloak held. He was beginning to suspect why Dumbledore had had such an odd interest in this Cloak.
He hurried whenever he dared, but progress was slow. The tunnel was crude hard stone, and the spells causing the Room to change things to the way one wanted them seemed to be ineffective here. As an Auror, he was trained to move quietly, but every footfall seemed to ring. Fortunately, the Death Eaters were lumbering around constantly, making loud echoes that drowned his steps.
Kingsley reached the painting. Two Death Eaters stood on the other side of the opened portal, leaving no space for anyone concealed to pass through. He considered quickly disabling them, but more were seated in the pub, three on a long bench at a table and four more in chairs at another. Several of these were drunk, but it was still too many. What he needed was a way to disable them both at once without the source being obvious. But soon, he remembered how Potter had dealt with the first task in the Triwizard Tournament.
–Accio Bench.â€
The bench lurched violently into the air, flinging the Death Eaters on it off in all directions. It soared towards the two Death Eaters at the painting, who were facing the tunnel and had only had time to turn when the bench smashed into them, sending them crashing to the ground. Kingsley leapt over the bench as it and the Death Eaters struck the ground, body shaking from the strain of Summoning something that large, took three quick steps into the pub proper, and Disapparated before anyone could work out what had happened.
****************************************************************************
The Prime Minister had become used to the voice in his head. It wasn’t a little voice, oh no; it shouted angrily at him when he did something wrong, so loud that he put his hands over his ears, which of course didn’t help. For example, it had been wrong to try to investigate the Gaddley deaths further. It was obviously a gas leak, even though no gas leaks had been found, because what else could kill people like that? He had tried to tell people about the voice once or twice, but when he did, it screamed at him so loudly he couldn’t hear himself or anyone else, and his head hurt very badly. He had learned not to ask questions about this voice, so all he really knew was that it had started after a dream about a strange man in a black cloak and mask in his bedroom. It had to have been a dream, because he woke up much later.
The voice was quiet tonight, as though paying attention to something else. He was glad; for a while, it had been yelling complicated instructions almost every night about the investigation of Princess Diana’s death and what to tell the media about it and God only knew what else, and (naturally) refusing to explain to him why it mattered so much. Now he could focus on his papers. This business with the tobacco advertising was giving him a headache.
Crack!
A man in a long black cloak suddenly appeared in his office. The PM blinked.
–Finite Incantatem!†the man shouted.
The voice was suddenly gone, and he was afraid. Just what had it made him do?!
–Right, Prime Minister. You may recall meeting with Rufus Scrimgeour last year?â€
–Yes…†the PM answered, still failing to process the situation. –I was rather confused, since I had never been told about magic before.â€
It took a lot to shock Kingsley, but that did. –What? Did they modify your memory?â€
–No. Apparently Cornelius Fudge spoke to my predecessor, and was so in—that is, he neglected the results of the 1997 general election. No one came to tell me anything, but I managed to work it out from the context, you know. It wasn’t too hard,†he finished with the slight smile of a man clinging desperately to the edge of sanity with humor, –I’m not a Tory, after all.â€
–Right, well, that is not relevant now.†Kingsley had regained his composure. –Prime Minister, you have been under the Imperius Curse for the past several months. This is a spell which compels its target to obey the commands of the caster.†The PM nodded slowly. –You recall our discussion of,†at the last second it occurred to him that Voldemort should not know he was here, –a certain wizard who was posing a serious threat to our Ministry.†The PM nodded more confidently. –He has since seized control of the Ministry of Magic,†Kingsley went on. –Various groups of people opposed to him have gathered at Hogwarts Castle, which is a school for Britain’s young wizards and witches. There is a battle taking place there now, which we are currently losing. I am here,†Kingsley hesitated now, –to ask you for whatever assistance the armed forces can provide.â€
–Well, we will do what must be done. New Labour is willing to use military force—;unlike many of my Labour predecessors—but only when justified—unlike most of my other predecessors. However…there are some legal…concerns here. Are our adversaries Her Majesty’s subjects?â€
–Prime Minister, if a branch of your government were invaded by, say, the Irish Republican Army, would the UK military be used?â€
–Yes, of course. And you said that, a, a school was being attacked? Are the students in it? Innocent children?â€
–Some of them, Prime Minister.â€
–Well, innocent children are in danger…the decision seems clear, then.†The PM started to rise, then hesitated. –But what do I tell our military? That is…this is not Iraq or North Korea. If I…of course, they aren’t insubordinate, naturally…but, rightly so…I cannot…if I order our Royal Air Force to bomb someone, they will have to be told something about who is being bombed and why. Do you…that is, I cannot, in effect, point at someone and say ‘kill him’ with no explanation, legally perhaps and certainly as a practical matter it will cause…difficulties.â€
Kingsley, meaning sinking in, stood frozen. This was a problem. They could try to invent a story…but why would terrorists, the IRA, or even foreign invaders have weapons that could do what wizards could do? If they lied about what the enemy could do, it would put the Muggle soldiers at a distinct disadvantage. But if they told them the truth…every last one would require Obliviation, and Kingsley knew how –secrecy†tended to go, if even one person told someone else, and that person told three others…
–What do I do?â€
–Well,†Kingsley said, with no idea what to say, but knowing something was required, –first of all, strictly speaking,†his old desire for proper procedure came out, –you should be giving orders to me, not the other way about. Nominally, the Minister of Magic is simply another minister, and since the abandonment of the ‘first among equals’ policy, that means you have authority over him, and therefore me. And before you ask, he is under the Imperius Curse at the moment and—â€
–Very well, please advise me,†the PM broke in.
This was it. The future of the world was in the balance. But Kingsley knew the decision he had to make, as horrifying as it was. He had sworn to defend the Statute of Secrecy; but whatever happened, Voldemort could not be allowed to win. Lying to the Muggle soldiers created too great a risk of that, and endangered them unnecessarily, to boot.
–Tell them the truth, Prime Minister,†Kingsley said slowly and quietly.
–Very well,†the PM answered. He hurried into the outer office, and began giving rapid instructions to his secretary to gather all of the other Ministers here as rapidly as possible starting with Defence, along with various Army and RAF brass. He then told her to prepare for a shock, before launching into an explanation of why and how there was a person in his office who had not come in through the door.
Kingsley, standing alone in the PM’s office for a moment, felt the weight of history pivoting around him. He felt like a man who had just opened the sluice gates on a dam, sending water rushing through, going God knew where and sweeping everything away.
**********************************************************************************
Things had settled down in the besieged Room of Requirement. The door and walls had been reinforced, visibly and otherwise. How exactly the windows were connected to the outside when the Room changed shape or size was one of those questions one tried to avoid thinking about, but in any case, they were now much smaller and had heavy bars. The walls looked less like those of a dormitory and more like those of a bank vault, and both doors had more locks and bars than Harry felt like counting, along with the silent crackle of magical forces holding them shut and intact. They had discussed collapsing (or whatever process happened when the Room shrank) the Hog’s Head tunnel, but Hermione had pointed out that if any help was to come, it would have to come from there. But the Patronus efforts had not been a success so far; they had been promised some forty wizards and witches, but only 12 had, so far, gathered outside Hogsmeade; no one wanted to be the first to die. This was not even enough to retake the Hog’s Head. After hours of trying to gather more, Lupin had told everyone to leave it be for a few hours and wait for more to come.
The wounded had all either been healed, or nothing more could be done for them. The defenses were strengthened to the limit. The little food available had been multiplied as much as was safe (repeated replication of food tended to make it toxic, for reasons not fully understood) and shared out. With little else to do, most of the people in the Room of Requirement were sleeping, or pretending to.
Three more attempts to break in had been made: blasting from the Hog’s Head, what sounded like some kind of very destructive substance thrown against the door to the castle, and something that seemed to have involved Fiendfyre. The last one had started to chip away at the stone, but the Room changed itself in some subtle way and no further damage was done. The Marauder’s Map showed anyone who cared to know that Thomas Riddle and about thirty of his people were on the other side of the Hogwarts door, with more in groups searching the castle. Several groups of defenders, mostly of older students, one including Professor Sprout and Professor Sinistra, were trapped in the castle but outside the room and had concealed themselves in various places in the building. Fred and George knew ways out that the Death Eaters weren’t guarding, but no one could think of a way to get a message to these groups without giving away their positions. Fred and George had been tasked with monitoring the map, and trying to get a warning and escape route to them via Patronus if the twins saw Death Eaters approaching the groups’ positions. The map didn’t show the Hog’s Head passage, but there was no reason to believe the Death Eaters weren’t right on the other side.
Lupin, despite telling others to go to sleep, had resisted doing so himself, but was now snoozing by the door he was supposedly watching. Ron was asleep and snoring. Harry and Hermione were both still awake, neither able to sleep, and spoke quietly, watching the other door. They had concluded that it didn’t look good. The Room could provide drinkable water, but no food, meaning that even if the Room did hold up indefinitely, they would not. Harry had started to joke about resorting to cannibalism before he realized that that might not be funny in a few days. And Voldemort still might find a way in at any time. He had (Harry did not tell anyone about this) attempted to seize control of Harry through their mental link and force him to open the door, but with the same results as this had had that night in the Ministry two years ago. Voldemort had also tried to project his voice in here, but Lupin and the Room had quickly put a stop to that. So Harry and Hermione sat there, leaning on each other, physically and mentally, as the stars slowly shifted outside the window. He checked his watch every now and then: 12:48, 1:03, 1:19…
*****************************************************************************
In such situations, the PM, the ministers, and the relevant military commanders gathered in the Cabinet Office Briefing Room (COBR). This room had a medium-width rectangular conference table with rounded corners. Large displays provided current intelligence and information about the situation.
Kingsley and the PM hurried into the room at around 12:30 AM. There were ten or eleven people there, most of whom Kingsley did not recognize; the PM told him that they were most of the Defence Council, along with a few others. The PM quietly pointed out the Chief of the Air Staff, the Chief and Vice-Chief of the Defence Staff, along with the Chief Science Adviser. The PM would have finished the introductions, but two more people hurried into the room and took seats, and he decided to get started and introduce them as he went along.
–Right,†the PM said. –Mr. Shacklebolt, if you would proceed as we discussed?â€
Kingsley stood. Leaving his other hand visible, he calmly levitated a coffee mug on the table into the air. Gasps were heard along the table, but not everyone was impressed; the science adviser, for example, looked annoyed, as though his time was being wasted by something he’d seen before.
He looked much less annoyed when Kingsley Vanished the mug. A wild confusion of shouting ensued at that, some wanting to know what had happened, others asking why they had been woken up to watch magic tricks.
–I will assure you,†the PM declared, standing, –that what you all just observed was no trick. Mr. Shacklebolt is a wizard. There are other wizards in this country, more than a thousand of them, and witches as well. Please note that none of them are, to the best of our knowledge, associated with Satan or other malevolent supernatural entities which may or may not exist. Most of them are not evil. However, several of them apparently are, which is related to why we are all here right now.â€
A stunned silence fell, except for the Science Adviser, who got up rapidly. –But how does it work?!†he demanded. He looked like a man shaken to his core; most of the others seemed merely rattled.
–I do not know,†Kingsley told him calmly. –None of us know.â€
–You mean you have only empirical…how long have there been wizards? How did this…is it hereditary? Is there a gene…can animals do this?â€
–In order,†Kingsley answered, –we do not know but theories range from 500 AD to the beginning of humanity, it seems to be hereditary,†ignoring some muttering about something called a Mendel, he continued, –and there are magical creatures, some of which are beings like us. And what is a ‘gene’?â€
–Beings? Are you telling me that there are nonhuman sentient animals on this planet?!â€
–Yes, that is correct. There are goblins, centaurs, acromantulas…ah, house-elves…â€
–Mr. Davies,†the PM broke in, as the Adviser was slack-jawed, along with much of the table, –as fascinating as all of this is, we have an immediate crisis to resolve.â€
The Adviser slowly shook himself. –Right…yes,†he muttered weakly, and sat down with a thump.
–There are details which we will discuss later. Needless to say, none of this is to leave this room. You lot have all signed the Official Secrets Act and know what to do.â€
There were murmurs of acknowledgement.
–Right,†the PM went on. The pauses normally punctuating his speech became shorter. –The situation, as Mr. Shacklebolt has explained it, is this. Hogwarts Castle is a castle somewhere in Scotland; exactly where it is cannot be determined because it is Unplottable, but Kingsley can lead people there. The building is used as a school for young wizards and witches. Earlier tonight, it was invaded by a sort of terrorist organization called the Death Eaters, which is led by a person with various names and identities,†he had been warned by Kingsley not to use ‘Voldemort’, –but whose birth name is Thomas Riddle. He is an extremely powerful wizard and, based upon Kingsley’s description of him and some consultations with a psychiatric expert, a sociopath, possibly with borderline personality disorder as well.†The PM consulted his hastily scribbled notes. –Some other wizards and witches, including students and faculty of Hogwarts and members of a sort of paramilitary anti-Death-Eater organization called the Order of the Phoenix, resisted this invasion, but without success. The surviving defenders of the castle are currently trapped in a sort of…keep…for lack of a better…description. Mr. Thomas Riddle is outside and attempting to break in, which he will probably eventually do. Kingsley was sent here to request assistance from our armed forces to repel this invasion and restore lawful government.â€
–Restore lawful government?†the Minister of Defence asked.
–Oh, yes, I suppose I neglected to explain…there is a Ministry of Magic, and a Minister of Magic. The last person who was properly appointed to this post was a Mr. Rufus Scrimgeour, who was killed by the Death Eaters. Thomas Riddle then arranged for a person under his control to receive the post, a Mr. Pius Thicknesse. Therefore our…legal position…is that I will give an order, as I am…entitled, as Prime Minister, to do…that Mr. Thicknesse is relieved of his office and a successor will be appointed shortly. If the Death Eaters resist this order, as I expect them to do…military force will then be justified, to remove terrorists who have illegally occupied government property and…usurped the authority of Her Majesty’s Government.â€
–Very well, sir,†the Defence Minister answered.
–Now, Richard,†the PM said, turning to the Chief of the Air Staff, –I want to look into an initial air strike against any Death Eaters and allies of theirs who may be…outside the building. There are no…friendlies…still outside the castle, but we do not want to damage the castle, because of friendlies and civilians inside, and the…functional, and historical, significance of the building to wizards.â€
The Air Marshal scratched his chin, examining some papers, then replied. –Well, if it is Scotland, then we will want the RAF station at Lossiemouth. If I recall correctly, we have several squadrons of Tornadoes there, including the IDS type, which would be ideal for this purpose.†He paused. –But, if the castle is…unplottable…then how will our pilots find the target?â€
–I know where the castle is, so I can guide them to it, once told where…Lossiemouth is located,†Kingsley stated.
–Guide them how?â€
–I could take a broomstick. The new Firebolts can achieve one hundred and fifty miles per hour in level flight.â€
He frowned. –That is too slow.â€
–Too slow?â€
–Jet engines operate inefficiently below approximately 200 miles per hour. The aircraft might have a problem with fuel shortages by the time the target is reached, especially if you cannot find it quickly. We could dispatch a tanker, but aerial refueling in darkness is very dangerous and I’d prefer to avoid endangering our pilots if we don’t have to.â€
–Could you simply cram him into the cabin of the lead fighter?†someone in an Army uniform suggested.
–It’s a crude solution, but it might work,†the Air Marshal answered. –I will see if we have any aircraft in the area that can, that is, are designed to attain the appropriate speed and carry passengers, but if not…â€
–There is another problem,†Kingsley said. –Muggle equipment tends to fail in the vicinity of Hogwarts. I believe that there is ‘too much magic in the air’. Simple things like, what is it, electric torches will work, even wizarding wirelesses, but Muggle stuff, increasingly, fails.â€
–Wait,†the Adviser put in, looking like a man suddenly back in his depth. –You said that simple electric circuits will work, but complicated ones fail? Do the complicated ones work again once they have been removed from the…Hogwarts area?â€
–My understanding is that they do not,†Kingsley answered, confused by the question.
–Of course!†the Adviser almost shouted. –It makes sense, a very weird kind of sense, but sense. Magic operates by manipulating electric and magnetic fields! That’s how you lifted that mug off the table, I’ve seen similar things with electrically induced magnetism, although how you made it vanish I don’t pretend to understand.†Seeing his listeners’ noncomprehension of the fundamental principle he was getting at, he elaborated. –Rapid changes in electric and magnetic flux induce electric currents inside complex circuits, particularly integrated circuits, which overload the components and destroy them. You may have heard of the idea of an electromagnetic pulse—an EMP? That, is what magic does.â€
–And our equipment,†the Air Marshal said, –is protected from EMP. Our aircraft are designed to continue operating in the event of global thermonuclear war. I would say there is a good chance they can survive the effects of the castle. We can send one aircraft ahead to try it, and if all goes well, the rest’ll go in. How are we going to get visuals on the targets?â€
–Saturation could work,†someone suggested. –Just spray enough rounds in the general direction—â€
–But what about Shield Charms?†Kingsley broke in. –Can you penetrate them?â€
–Shield what?â€
–Of course, you would not know. And there is no way to test it which does not put myself, or some other wizard, in considerable danger.â€
–Are they known to—is it known to be possible for these…charms to be overwhelmed by impacts?†the Adviser asked.
–One moment,†Kingsley said, rapidly thinking through all of the reports he remembered seeing back at the Ministry. –Yes, I recall an incident in which two Aurors were trying to Apprehend a ‘Mugger’—that is what we called a wizard who uses magic to steal from Muggles—and the ‘Mugger’ used a Reductor Curse to trigger an avalanche. A boulder struck one of the Aurors and broke his Shield Charm, but fortunately his partner grabbed him and Disapparated before he was crushed by the falling debris.â€
–I didn’t follow most of that, but you say a boulder was able to break the…shield?â€
–Yes. Of course, he was not prepared for it.â€
–And that makes a difference?â€
–Look, this is no use,†the PM declared. –Shacklebolt doesn’t have any idea what our weapons can do and doesn’t understand our units, and…vice versa. What do we have to lose by trying it?â€
–We could lose our planes and pilots,†said the Air Chief. –But given what Kingsley said about technology around these people, they are unlikely to be able to hit the airplanes. Targeting and tracking will be visual, at night, against aircraft which are designed to avoid low-level antiaircraft fire.â€
–Very well,†the PM said. He called the building’s operator and told him to contact Lossiemouth.
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Contact was quickly made with Lossiemouth. It was possible with the new systems (it was amazing what could be done with these new networked computers, the PM thought) to quickly dispatch pictures of the base to the screens in the COBR. While Kingsley studied the pictures, he and the Air Marshals rapidly issued explanations and orders to the No. 617 RAF Squadron, asking Kingsley clarifying questions now and again. With the pictures studied and the orders issued, Kingsley was able to Apparate, first to Birmingham, then into the command center at Lossiemouth. The others began to discuss deployment of the SAS to Hogwarts and the Ministry of Magic, and orders began to be dispatched.
Overwhelmed by the strange sights and sounds around him, Kingsley was rapidly escorted by two RAF ground men to a waiting airplane, apparently called a Panavia Tornado, and bodily hoisted into the seat next to the pilot. They were both sort of crammed in, Kingsley had an oxygen mask jammed over his face, and the canopy was swung shut, cramping them even more. The pilot grinned at him, but still seemed somewhat annoyed about the cramping, as the plane’s engines fired up and it started to move towards a long black strip of pavement. More planes, apparently the rest of the 617 Squadron, could be seen behind and ahead of them. Kingsley watched, stunned, as a sudden roar came from the lead airplane, which streaked faster and faster down what he was told was a –runwayâ€. He could see some sort of fire and smoke rising from the back of it as the wheels left the –runwayâ€; the plane pitched upward, rose, and vanished into the night. More airplanes began to do this on other –runwaysâ€.
–Merlin’s pants,†Kingsley muttered, surprising himself for cursing like that. Then he realized he would be shortly doing the same thing. –Merlin’s pants!â€
–Here we go, Mr., uh, Shacklebolt,†the pilot told him as the last plane ahead of them took off. Chatter could be heard over the radio, and Kingsley vaguely gathered that the other planes were waiting for them to all take off. The plane rolled quickly toward the start of the –runwayâ€, turning slowly to face down the dual long chains of lights marking the strip. The pilot thrust some levers forward, and with a roar behind them that rattled Kingsley’s body, a force gripped Kingsley and thrust him against the seat and the pilot. The plane accelerated down the strip; the lights went by, flashing, then flickering, then no longer visibly changing at all, and then the whining sound of the wheels on the pavement vanished along with the lights and a sort of whooshing roar was all around them.
–Right,†the pilot asked of him, performing some operation which involved tipping the plane slightly so it would turn, –I need a heading.â€
Kingsley got his stomach and fear under control firmly; he was an Auror. It was no good talking about cardinal directions when trying to reach Unplottable places; one had to go on instinctive mental maps, which made this sort of thing very difficult.
–That way,†he said, pointing. The pilot looked suspicious, but began turning the plane back that way, speaking into the radio.
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Harry lay there quietly, kind of appreciative of Hermione’s warmth. The room was getting colder as the night went on, even with the stone. Maybe it was the protective enchantments. Of course, he could light a magical fire or something, but he was a little nervous about that right now. Given how their luck had been going, he would probably start a Fiendfyre and kill them all.
He and Hermione had laid out blankets by the pub door. The idea was that a Death Eater seeing Harry would hesitate or at least use a non-lethal spell, due to Voldemort’s standing order to –leave him for me,†giving everyone else a split-second advantage. Hermione had refused to let Harry take this position alone, so here she was. Ron was asleep somewhere else, and they had decided not to try to wake him.
Someone coughed. Harry shifted out of his stupor and glanced at his watch: 1:28 AM. Maybe Voldemort had decided to wait them out. Harry then became aware of a strange noise in the distance.
For a moment he thought it was the Death Eaters trying to break in again, but it was…it was an airplane! But airplanes never came near Hogwarts. Unless…
Harry leapt up, causing a snoozing Hermione to fall to the floor and wake with a yelp. He dashed to the barred window and looked out. The sound was getting louder, but nothing could be seen except some acromantulas in front of the castle, giants by one side, and Death Eaters milling around by a fire in between them (probably to keep them from attacking each other). The planes became louder still…
The Last Resort by William Brennan
Chapter Notes: Note: Much of the information about the details of COBR, and the UK’s command-and-control procedures in general, is my own invention, as it is (for obvious reasons) not available to the public.