Harry Potter and the Child of Tourach

Harry was sitting in a comfortable armchair in one of the several libraries of Grimmauld Place in front of a roaring fireplace. His feet were resting on a squashy stool and he was reading a newspaper. Well, it was not any newspaper. It was The Daily Prophet and the issue Harry was reading dealt with the attack on St. Mungo’s two days ago. An attack the Order had organized and executed and while Harry personally considered the term “attack” a bit hyperbolic, he was very pleased with the impact it had had on the public.

The ministry had been rather quick to blame the entire event at the Order in general and him in particular, but nevertheless the image of a violent terrorist group the government had been drawing, was rendered ridiculous by the fact that only fireworks of Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes had been detonated in the hospital. Instead of antagonizing the public from the Order, the operation and the ministry’s inability to prevent it, had piqued the interest of a broad amount of people. Of course many of them were worrying that it was possible to smuggle possibly dangerous items into the biggest hospital of Britain, but the harmless nature of the incident prevented these worries to become too big. However, people were asking for the motivation any group could have to render this deed. Most stuck to the ministry’s explanation and considered the Order responsible, even though more exotic theories about the originator of the “St. Mungo’s Madness”, as the operation was called these days, were blooming everywhere.

All in all it was a promising start and Harry was very sure that the next operation he had planned would cause even more trouble for the ministry. His goal of clearing his name and getting Scrimgeour out of office was coming a lot closer. However he was worried about the next steps the minister might take. He knew that findings had been started to discover the origins of the fireworks and how they had been purchased. This brought Fred and George in a very uncomfortable situation, because they had to explain how an enormous amount of their fireworks had vanished without anyone actually paying for it. Still they were safe, because it was illegal to use any kind of truth serum during an investigation, as long as no one had been killed in the crime. Nevertheless, Harry had a feeling that the minister had a few very unpleasant surprises up his sleeve.

These unpleasant thoughts were wiped away from his mind by the much more pleasant sensation of a pair of soft and warm lips pressing against his neck. Ginny.

“You should not be working at this hour.” she said kindly, abandoning his neck and walking around the chair to come face to face with him.
“I know.” he replied softly. “But I simply can not stop thinking about this.”
“Harry, I need to talk to you.” she echoed and for a moment he saw a flicker of worry in her eyes, before they changed back to an impassive state. “Don’t you think that this is a lot like your seventh year in school?”
“What exactly do you mean?” Harry asked, not quite sure what she meant and not able to grasp her motivation behind bringing up this topic. “It is kind of similar, I feel like I am at war again. You know, spending every waking moment brooding over new plans and strategies and preparing for the final confrontation. Why are you asking?”

This time he definitely saw worry on her face before she regained control of herself. What was she so afraid of? What was she trying to say? Why was she dancing around the subject? It did not make any sense.
“I thought so.” she replied, completely failing to sound casual. “Another question: why are you wearing your dragon armour again? I thought you had sworn not to don it again.”
“I don’t really know what made me do it.” he answered truthfully. “It felt like the right thing to do, you know, kind of appropriate to the situation. But why are you asking me all these things? What are you worrying about?”

“Well, I think it was a bit illusory to think that you won’t recognize that I am worried.” she echoed, smiling nervously. “It’s just that I have been thinking a lot about your behaviour over the last few days. You appeared to be a bit … enthusiastic.”
“Enthusiastic?”
“Yeah.” she replied, biting her lip, apparently searching for the right words. “You know, the moment you stormed into our bathroom and told me to pack our things and run, you had this determined glint in your eyes. The same one you always had when talking about fighting Voldemort and when you were just about to go out hunting for a horcrux. You looked as though you were in exactly the kind of situation you were born to be in. And it simply was amazing how quickly you came up with the guerrilla idea. And I could not help wondering if this is what you need.”

“I don’t think, I understand.” said Harry, confused. What on earth was she trying to say?
“Harry do you enjoy being at war?” she asked quickly.
“No!” he answered, much more forceful that he had planned. “I mean I enjoy the adrenaline rush of fighting, when the magic rushes through your veins and your blood is pounding in your skull – oh – that’s what you are worrying about! You think that peace is not going to make me happy!”
“Well, yeah.” she replied hesitantly. “You should have seen you face when you explained your battle plans. You looked like a natural-born leader! And your outfit did nothing to dispel my worries! I do not want you to become caught up in the conflict like you were in your seventh year! All you did was training and developing plans! Sometimes I had to practically drag you away from your spellbooks to snog! Damn it, Harry, I need to know if I can make you happy or if you need someone to fight!”

Harry remained silent for a moment, stunned by the weight of her words. She had a point, hadn’t she? After all he had been unhappy with his uneventful desk job, even though everything else was just fine. Did he need an enemy to be happy? Was this even more important then Ginny? For a moment he was not sure. Then, suddenly he knew the answer. It bloody hell wasn’t! Suddenly he remembered all the times he had thought about his peaceful life after his crusade against Voldemort. The countless times he had lain exhausted on the hard floor of the Room of Requirement after a particular exhausting training session and had thought about everything he want to do with Ginny after all of this was over. He thought of all the nights he had spent lying awake in his four-poster, carefully planning his life. And he remembered how bored he had been at the ministry, with so much time to spare and nothing to do with it.

“Ginny.” Harry said softly, locking his gaze with her slightly teary eyes. “I am a pretty good leader and I like to fight, but nothing is as important to me as you are. You were the reason why I did not simply give up and handed the world to Voldemort. You were my candle in the darkness of the war. It was the promise of a better life, and life in peace and with you, what kept me going. I have realized today that I need something to occupy me. Something to focus all my energy on. In the past this has been my crusade against Voldemort and my job as an auror. That was why I was so discontent during my time as a paper-pusher. It was not nearly enough to challenge me! But I would rather be a paper-pusher all my life than having to endure a year without you.”

“Oh Harry!” replied Ginny, so softly that he nearly missed it. Her eyes were shining with tears, but she was smiling brightly. Then she captured his lips in a soft, sweet kiss. Time stopped for a moment.
“It’s late, let’s go to bed.” said Harry, huskily after breaking away. “We will need all sleep we are able to get.”


* * * * *


Harry slipped into Gringrott’s unnoticed, his appearance much too ordinary to attract attention. He was dressed in muggle clothes, wearing tight blue jeans, a white blouse and high heels. He had gathered his long blond hair in a loose ponytail and was wearing little makeup. As he climbed into the chart, which would take him to his vault, he congratulated himself once again for coming up with this plan.

Well, technically he would have to thank Sarah Carter. After all only her readiness to side with him had granted him with the hair he had needed to brew the Polyjuice Potion, he had used to disguise himself. She had contacted him two days after their conversation in the abandoned house and he had met her at a safe location. He had been completely fearless of treason, because the silver sickle, he had given her, was enchanted to report treacherous thoughts directly to him. It was not that he did not trust her; he just did not trust her. That was one of the reasons why he had refused to let her join the Order, but the more prominent one was that he did not want to someone as young as her getting hurt in this mind game between the minister and himself. After a lot of persuasion she had grudgingly agreed and donated some of her hair for the potion.

The auror guards standing in front of the wizard bank had not recognized him as a soon-to-be auror colleague, which was fine with him. If no one realized that Sarah walked into the building, no one would ask dangerous questions. In each case, she had a waterproof alibi, attending her uncle’s second wedding two hundred miles away. The goblins themselves did not give a damn about who accessed a vault, as long as he or she had the correct key. Nothing could go wrong and with the money from his vault he would be able to finance even a longer struggle between the order and the ministry. Also, he still had his wedding ring in one of his pockets, allowing him to escape with the built-in portkey, should the situation require it. Everything was just fine, but these damned shoes were killing him!

Even though he constantly assured himself that nothing could go wrong, Harry relaxed not until he had filled his enchanted moneybag with as much coins as possible, had left the building and had apparated back to Grimmauld Place.


* * * * *


Blackstone Castle was not a place someone visited if he or she had even the slightest chance to avoid it. The huge castle made of jet-black stones with its abundance of towers was at least thrice as big as Hogwarts and despite its almost ancient age and years of neglect and disuse still better protected than the magical school. It had been used as a sanctuary in countless wars, its secluded location in the northernmost part of Scotland and the incredible amount of wards and protection charms placed around it, rendering it almost unconquerable. However wizarding Britain had become quite peaceful during the nineteenth century and there was no use for the ancient fortress anymore. And like every useless thing, Blackstone had been forgotten.

Nearly two centuries later, it was getting reactivated. After the war a new prison was needed; Azkaban was too unsafe without any dementors to guard it and its status as a symbol of treason against the ministry further discredited the location. So, the search for a new place began and soon someone discovered some ancient documents containing the location of Blackstone and most of the wards and spells protecting it. It took the ministry almost two months to get into the old castle, due to the abundance of still activated magical protecting shrouding it. However, they were rewarded for their patience. In merely a week, they had transfigured a great part of the castle into cells, while restoring a much smaller piece to its old glory to house the future guards. The spells protecting the castle from the dangerous world outside, were now effectively protecting the safe world outside from the danger inside. No one had ever escaped from Blackstone during the five years it had been in use and while a stay was not nearly as unpleasant as in Azkaban, the months in the dark, small cells marked its inhabitants.

The only thing entering the prison from outside were the food deliveries once a month, which were using a special portkey, created by the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement himself, to bypass the shields around Blackstone. They always used a different location to activate it and always found themselves at wandpoint with the guards, who were ready to curse them at the slightest unusualness. Naturally the public considered Blackstone as totally safe and a breakout would greatly shake their belief in the government. And this was where Ronald Weasley came in.

Well, technically this would be the moment where Harry Potter walked in, but that detail was not important at the moment. What was important was the fact that Ron was currently adding one hair of a stunned member of the catering service to his Polyjuice Potion and swallowed the vile liquid. A few moments of agonizing pain later, he was a mirror image of the downed man and transfigured his robes to match. Five other members of the order were accompanying him on this operation. Harry, Remus, Tonks, Fred and George had already transformed and were currently rummaging to find the portkey, which they would use to get to Blackstone. They were all standing on a flat roof in one of Liverpool poorer regions, safely protected from any observer’s gazes by a darkness charm. It had been a lot easier than Ron thought to get the information about the portkey’s whereabouts, when Harry had explained his plan for the first time he had considered the operation impossible.

His best mate had discovered that the only person except for John Wright knowing where the portkey leading to Blackstone would be located was his deputy. Of course it would not be easy to wheedle this top secret information out of him, but fortune had been on their side. Wright’s substitute, James Connor, had a son suffering from a very rare malady, which caused the magic flowing through his veins to damage his body. There was a cure, but it was extremely expensive and Connor’s salary did not permit it. Of course Connor was very depressed about this and spent most of his evenings getting drunk in some sleazy bars.

It was in one of them, where Harry confronted him, heavily disguised, of course. He was able to talk Connor into giving him the location in exchange for a big enough amount of money to cure his son. Then he would replace the original memory of the evening with a false one to render Connor immune to any examination under the influence of Veritaserum. If he did not remember the actual truth, he would recount what he thought was the truth. Connor agreed eagerly and Harry replaced the memory. Now Conner was absolutely sure that he witnessed the selling of a huge amount of moonsugar, a potent magical drug, followed the dealer and stole the money from him, before arresting him. Of course this could get him into trouble as well, but these actions were not uncommon in the department and he had a very good chance to get away unscathed. The rest had been easy. They had hid themselves close on the place Connor had told them and had waited for the caterers to arrive. As soon as they appeared, the Order members had attacked them and managed to stun the surprised workers within seconds.

And now they were all dressed up and ready to go.

“Okay team.” said Harry, who had adopted the appearance of a middle aged, big, black woman. “As soon as we hit the ground, I will erect a shield and we start firing. Remember that our enemies are very well trained and dangerous. I expect you to fight as well as you can. Mediocre won’t be enough here.”

The six members looked at each other grimly, before touching the old boot, which would bring them to Blackstone.


* * * * *


“This is really getting out of hand!” thought Ron, as he dodged a sickly green curse, which looked eerily similar to the killing curse and returned fire. They had arrived barely a minute ago and hell had officially broken loose in this short time. Bloody hell, without Harry they would already have been captured! Only his shield had prevented them from getting overwhelmed right at the start. They had appeared in a circle of at least twenty guards in castle’s huge inner courtyard and had immediately started to launch all hexes and curses they could think of. Even though they had managed to incapacitate at least five guards in this first volley of spells, the counter strike had been massive.

Harry’s hastily created shield sphere, roughly twenty feet in diameter, had flashed angrily as the spells hit it and Ron could have sworn that he saw it flickering for a moment. Then Harry had reinforced it and they were currently using it as a cover, sending carefully aimed hexes at their unprotected foes. However they were rapidly losing ground. Most enemies had summoned tables or barrels to hide behind, while others fought defensively behind their own shield charms, determined to deflect as much damage from their comrades as possible. Harry could not join the fight, he had to keep the shield up, and they could really do with some of his tricks at the moment. Then someone had launched the Avada Kedavra and it had blazed right through the shield. Ron knew that they would have to change their strategy right now or they were as good as dead. Harry seemed to have noticed as well.

“I am going to deactivate the shield!” he shouted. “Try to keep fighting; I will finish this whole thing in a few minutes!”
After giving them barely five seconds to prepare themselves, he lowered the shield and was instantly getting bombarded with spells. The enemy had listened closely and wanted to incapacitate Harry as quickly as possible, cowed by the display of power the plain, black woman was currently giving. Fortunately Harry had anticipated the move.

An instant before the first curse would have hit him; he blinked away, appearing on the other side of the courtyard. The surprised enemy had been quick to spot him again, but once again Harry was able to evade getting hit. His fellow order members used the diversion to down three more guards, reducing their number to twelve. But then the warders started to change their strategy. A small part of them was keeping Harry under fire, while the rest focused their attention on the other fighters. Within a minute the tides turned. Tonks was stunned, Fred was lying on the ground unconscious after having been hit by a Bludgeoning Charm and Remus was bleeding out of several small wounds. He, Ron and George continued fighting stubbornly but it was getting more and more hopeless any second. What was Harry waiting for? Why wasn’t he fighting with them? The end of the fight seemed to be so close.

As he was preparing to stun one of the guards firing at Harry, Ron was hit by a Cutting Charm in the right thigh. He fell down to the ground screaming, his wand clattering down on the rough stones. A guard’s face appeared over him, slightly blurred through the pain. However, Ron was still able to see the murderous anger in his foe’ eyes and knew that this may be his last moment alive. Just as the guard lifted his wand, he was hit by something in the chest and flew at least ten feet before crashing to the ground in a heap of broken bones.

Stunned, Ron took a look around and was astonished to see all other guards lying stunned on the ground. A very relieved looking Harry Potter was standing in the middle of the battlefield and seemed to catching his breath. After a while he walked over to Ron and healed his leg with a flick of his wand.

“Ginny taught me.” he answered Ron’s unasked question.
“What on earth did you do Harry?” replied the redhead, gesturing weakly at the limp bodies surrounding them.
“Supercharged stunners, aiming at the mental signature of the guards. It takes a while and it is very tiring, but effective nevertheless.” answered Harry, looking quite pleased with himself. “Come on, lets stitch the others back together, we have got work to do!”


* * * * *


To say that minister Scrimgeour was in a bad mood would be the understatement of the century. He was totally livid! He was sitting on his desk in his fashionable, spacious office and was currently busy verbally abusing John Wright, who was sitting in a chair in front of him, in the worst way possible. What had happened to enrage the otherwise level minded minister this badly?

Well, everything started with Harry Potter. He and his Order had actually succeeded in gaining control of Blackstone Prison, a deed which almost everyone had considered impossible. To make matters even worse, they did not actually do anything with the prison, but simply left a note stating their goals and that they wish no harm to the public. They did not free any criminal, nor killed any guard! Under normal circumstances the minister should be happy about these facts, but he absolutely wasn’t. The Daily Prophet had somehow gotten hold on the letter and had printed it in its evening edition and right now the people were going berserk.

The only thing the Order wanted to achieve was a fair trial for Harry under the influence of Veritaserum or at least that was what they claimed in the letter. These ridiculously modest allowances, combined with the Orders efficient displays of power and their very gentle way of operation, caused most of the population to sympathise with the rogues. They were demanding to give in to the Order, before the situation had any chance to escalate. And this was why Scimgeour was currently busy shouting at Wright, while cursing Harry Potter over and over in his head.

“Are you finished?” said Wright calmly, during a lengthy pause in Scrimgeour’s tirade. “Don’t waste your breath minister, you know that I didn’t give Harry this information and unless you can prove the opposite, I am going back to work. Have a nice day.”

“I am going to end this Wright!” shouted the minister, as the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement left the office. “This will be over in two days!”


* * * * *


One day later, at midday, the Order was just about to start a meeting in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place. They were only waiting for Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and for Kingsley Shacklebolt, who were already ten minutes late. Just as Harry was starting to worry abut their absence, Kingsley bolted into the room, looking thoroughly out of breath.
“Kingsley, why on earth are you banging in here?” asked Harry, already bracing himself for bad news.
“Have you read today’s papers?” replied Kingsley breathlessly.
“No, something important in them?” echoed Harry.”
“You could say that.” said Kingsley mirthlessly. “They arrested Arthur and Molly for being member of a terrorist group and passing ministry information to it.”

Absolute silence filled the room for a few heartbeats. Then Ron jumped from his chair and grabbed his cloak.
“Well?” he asked angrily. “What are you bloody waiting for? We have to get them out of there!”
“Ron” said Hermione softly. “We don’t even know where exactly they are being held and we need to have a plan before we can rescue them. We can’t simply waltz into the ministry and start to search for them!”
“To hell with a bloody plan!” shouted Ron. “We don’t need a plan! We have kicked the ministry’s but before and we will again this time! All we have to is to get going!”

Just as Hermione opened her mouth for an angry retort, Harry decided that he had heard enough. They had more important things to do than to argue.
“That’s enough, Ron” he said softly, but the thinly veiled power in his voice caused Ron to shut up immediately. “We will need more information before jumping into the action. Tonks will contact Smith, he still owns her a few favours and Remus will tap some more shady sources. As soon as we know where they are held, four of us will create a portkey and get them out. Kingsley and Tonks won’t be a part of this operation; I do not want to blow their cover. Ron, Charlie, Bill and me will go. Let’s get cracking!”

Barely a minute later, the kitchen was empty.


* * * * *


Harry had known that it was a trap as soon as he heard about the Weasley’s arrest. He knew that it was one of Scrimgeour’s cheap shots, a spiteful plan with the intention to hurt him and to put him under pressure. Apparently the minister was hoping for him to make a mistake. Well, he would be disappointed! Harry was seeing through the pathetic plan the minister had concocted, the only problem was that where was no way not to fall into the trap. He could not not get the Weasleys out of prison, his consciousness was demanding it, but this may cost him everything. After a lengthy struggle with himself he had decided to go anyway, confident that his abilities would protect him once again. His suspicions were confirmed as Tonks had needed only ten minutes to gather all relevant information. Scrimgeour was such a dilettante at masking his actions! Of course Harry was not sure if the Weasleys where indeed held at the discovered location, but there was no alternative to going there. Half an hour after Tonks had reported the gathered information, he, Ron, Bill and Charley had taken a portkey to the part f the ministry where the Weasleys were supposed to be held, which conveniently was not protected by a Displacement Aura. That was when the disaster started.

Harry had expected a bunch of aurors, maybe one or two security trolls, but what he had to face was much worse then his darkest expectations. As soon as he and his three allies had hit the ground, they were already under fire. However it weren’t the stunners and Bludgeoning Charms the aurors sent at them, which were dangerous, but two small, fireballs fired at Ron by two harmless looking statues. These missiles blasted right through the redhead’s shield and exploded right in front of his torso, knocking him backwards against a wall.

“Ron!” shouted Harry and hastily erected a shield, cursing himself for underestimating his enemy. The two statues were gargoyle traps, ordinary looking stone pillars, displaying the mythical stone creatures. However they were enchanted to attack anyone unauthorized in a certain area. Their fireballs had been modified to pierce most shields and were exceptionally deadly weapons. To make matters even worse, most gargoyle traps were crafted out of highly magic resistant stone, which rendered them almost unable to be destroyed by any magical source. Of course this was also one of the reasons, why they were so rare, it required a lot of power to actually enchant one.

Harry’s heart had sunken, as soon as he had spotted the two pillars in the bare stone corridor. He knew that it was nearly impossible to destroy them and he had not the time to try it anyway. At least he could see the Weasley, cuddled together in a cell, the traps, aurors and some bars separating them from each other. Unfortunately one of these aurors was waving his wand in a motion Harry recognized as the incantation of a Displacement Aura, which would trap them in here. He had to do something quickly or everything would be lost and Ron needed medical attention as soon as possible. If he was not dead already. Pushing this thought away, Harry did some quick planning. He had about a minute before the aura would be in place. His shield was protecting them at the moment, but it would only be a matter of time before he would be too tired to keep it up. The auros were fighting defensively and the Order members weren’t able to incapacitate some of them. Then, finally Harry had a plan.

“Defend yourself!” he shouted before lowering the shield. He shot a quick barrage of spells at the aurors and the traps and was pleased to see the gargoyle fireballs flying in his direction. He had to keep the traps firing at him to protect the others! Smiling, Harry blinked behind the two traps, barely allowing them to fire again before teleporting into the cell and grabbing both Weasleys. He heard Bill howling in pain, but he could not do anything to help him at the moment.

Instead he blinked back to his original position, blocking a barrage of spells at the same time and summoned all Weasleys and the portkey to him.
“Touch it!” he screamed, before re-erecting a shield, a heartbeat before another wave of spells would have hit them.
Five pairs of hands grabbed the old vase they were using as a portkey, but Ron was unconscious and therefore unable to do so himself. Not hesitating a second, Bill roughly grabbed Ron’s hand and forced him to touch it. Harry activated the portkey a second before the aura fell into place.

“I have to end this.” where his last thoughts, before the world exploded in a swirl of colours