Sticks & Stones

Severus Snape, Minerva McGonagall, Sybil Trelawney and Rubeus Hagrid appeared on the top floor of the Shrieking Shack, wands drawn. They checked around, but found nothing. Snape finally lowered his wand. “Okay… let’s go to the ground floor,” he said. He turned to face the others. “Remember what I said,” he reminded them. “Don’t interrupt unless you have an important, relevant question.” The other three nodded in acknowledgement, and they headed for the stairs.

Snape cast a charm on the stairs so they wouldn’t squeak, and the four figures walked quickly and quietly down. When they got to the ground floor Trelawney slipped briefly into the back rooms; she returned and shook her head, indicating that no one was there. Snape led the way into the sitting room, which was empty. Snape checked the watch on his wrist; “Three minutes,” he said quietly. “Get ready.”

The four of them took up defensible positions along two adjacent walls so they wouldn’t have each other in their line of fire. “He will be walking through the front door, then?” McGonagall asked.

“Of course not,” Snape snapped. “He’ll appear in the center of the room. He didn’t know ahead of time where he was going; I just told him to go to Hogsmeade and find that old brick behind the Three Broomsticks.”

“A Portkey,” McGonagall said shortly, nodding.

“Then why’d yeh have ‘im come to Hogsmeade at all?” Hagrid asked.

“Because it’ll be harder to track him,” Snape said. “Plus, the shorter the distance he Portkeys, the less disoriented he’ll be. Now everyone shut up, he’ll be here any moment!”

They waited tensely for another thirty seconds before a whooshing sound filled the room, and then with a clatter Seamus Finnegan appeared. The momentum he’d gained while traveling by Portkey caused him to lunge sideways, slamming into the wall with his shoulder. He winced but managed to prevent himself from falling; then he looked up and his jaw dropped as he saw his four former teachers. His wand was out in a second, but then Seamus seemed to remember his previous meeting. “Who are you?” he asked suspiciously, pointing his wand straight at Snape.

“I might well ask you the same question,” Snape drawled. “But for the record, you and Dean—that is, Mr. Thomas—did an adequate job of hiding your… proclivities from most of us. The—the one I am closest to learned the truth from Mr. Thomas’ own lips and made me swear never to mention it.”

Seamus’ eyes widened hugely and he blushed—the reference to his and Dean’s sexual encounters was clear. ‘The one I am closest to’ had to be Ginny Weasley, since Dean would only have even considered mentioning it to a girlfriend—which meant that ‘Snape’ was really Harry Potter. “I can’t believe that thick-headed prat told her!” Seamus grumbled, still pointing his wand.

“Men do strange things in the heat of the moment,” Snape said blithely.

“That’s a pretty lame bloody excuse,” Seamus complained. He glanced at the other ‘teachers’; Hagrid couldn’t be anyone but Ron Weasley, and Trelawney’s posture wasn’t perfect enough to be Hermione Granger. That meant that Trelawney must be Ginny Weasley, and McGonagall—whose back was straight as a board—was Hermione.

At least, that seemed probable. “Anyone could have found that out, though,” he said suspiciously to Snape. “It doesn’t prove who you are.”

Snape sneered. “Very well. When you arrived at your parents’ cottage in Ireland after attacking your friends, your mother was seated in front of the fire with smoke still coming from her pipe. You grasped her forearms and shouted at her to wake up.”

No one but Seamus and Harry had been there that day when Seamus had entered the cottage—‘Snape’ was definitely Harry. Seamus swallowed; the memory of his mother’s blank eyes was always on the edge of his consciousness. “You know, it would’ve been better for me to have met two days ago,” he said, changing the subject rapidly. “Today’s Saturday, and the pub below my flat is packed. It would have been a lot easier to slip away unnoticed.”

“We needed the time to prepare,” Snape said, waving the complaint away. “Now I believe you still haven’t proven your own identity clearly enough.”

“So what am I supposed to do?” Seamus asked. He scowled when Trelawney produced a slim crystal vial. “More Veritaserum?”

“That’s right,” Trelawney said, her voice not as soft and ethereal as usual.

“I hate that stuff,” Seamus griped. But even so, he allowed Trelawney to drop three drops of Veritaserum on his tongue. “At least it doesn’t taste so bad,” he muttered.

“What’s your name?” Snape asked.

“Seamus Finnegan.”

“What happened at the first meeting of Dumbledore’s Army that you attended during fifth year?”

“The group was betrayed by a member, a Ravenclaw named Marietta Edgecombe. She told Umbridge and Umbridge sent the Inquisitorial Squad to try and capture us. Dean and I managed to get back to the Gryffindor Common Room, but several D.A. members were caught. I heard that Dumbledore was forced to—”

“That’s enough,” Snape said, and Seamus shut his mouth. “The last time we met, what did we insist upon doing, to ensure that you maintained your cover?”

Seamus scowled. “You used spells—Bombarda, mostly—to beat me up so it would look like I’d been mugged.”

Snape nodded without apparent emotion. “Are you under anyone’s control through any means, such as coercion or the Imperius Curse?”

“No.”

“Are you working to harm or undermine Dumbledore’s Army, or any of its members, in any way, for any reason?”

“No.”

“Are you working to aid Dumbledore’s Army?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” Snape said, looking satisfied. “We called you here to warn you, Seamus—there may be people who suspect your allegiance now.”

Seamus blinked. “Why? What happened?”

“A mistake was committed,” Snape said vaguely. “We’re not certain, but we fear that the wrong people may have overheard a comment that would lead them to suspect you’re not as disconnected from Harry Potter as you’ve been letting on in public.”

“Bugger,” Seamus swore, looking worried. “So what do I do, then? Should I back off, lay low for a while—?”

“No,” Snape replied smoothly. “Changing your pattern would be a clear sign something had happened. You just have to be even more careful from now on—always be aware that any comment you make find its way to Voldemort’s ears.”

Seamus shuddered at the name. “That’s always been true though, hasn’t it?”

“Yes, but now the odds that you’re being watched all the time have risen a lot,” Snape explained. “That’s why we had you come all the way out here—no one could know you’d suddenly travel out to Hogsmeade. We’ve arranged for you to Portkey back to a room above the Three Broomsticks. There’ll be firewhiskey in the room—get drunk before leaving, it’ll look more realistic. We—um, we also arranged for a girl to leave shortly after you, to give the impression that you were… having a good time.”

Seamus’ eyes lit up. “Really? Who is she? Will she—”

“You won’t see her,” Snape interrupted with a smirk. “She’ll enter the room after you’ve left, wait a bit and then leave herself.”

“I wouldn’t mind some company,” Seamus insisted suggestively.

“Yeh might if yeh knew who the girl really was,” Hagrid said with a deep chuckle before a glare from Snape shut him up.

“Oh fine,” Seamus grumbled. “At least make sure the firewhiskey’s a good vintage, eh?”

Snape nodded ironically. “Only the best for you, Mr. Finnegan.” He paused before continuing. “That was the main reason for calling you here—to warn you. But since we’re here, do you have anything to tell us? Any rumors you’ve heard since we last spoke that we should know about?”

“Yes,” Seamus said, the Veritaserum still partially ruling his tongue. “There are a number of rumors suggesting that You-Know-Who has been injured somehow, and is unable to Heal himself. But the rumors vary a lot.”

“How do they vary?”

“Some say he was injured in a battle; others say he was injured while experimenting with Dark magic. There are also many different rumors about where he was hurt—I’ve heard that it was one of his arms, one of his legs, both legs, or his face.”

“What was the most common version you heard?”

“That You-Know-Who was experimenting with Dark magic, and his wand exploded, injuring his wand hand and arm.”

Snape raised his eyebrows. “Huh.” He pursed his lips and thought silently for a moment. “All right… that could be important, we’ll consider it. Were there any more rumors?”

“There are many rumors surrounding Draco Malfoy,” Seamus said. “The rumor most frequently bandied around is that he was captured by a group of Aurors led by the Minister, right out of a Death Eater stronghold. Other rumors were that Draco had been caught by a group not associated with the Ministry that Dumbledore started, or that he’d been killed.”

“Hmm.” Snape had been smirking at first, but by the time Seamus was finished he was frowning. “That’s… interesting. Any others?”

“A group of Death Eaters are said to have been Stunned and sent by Portkey to the Ministry after an attempt to kidnap Neville Longbottom.”

Trelawney sucked in a sharp breath; McGonagall peered at her intently. “That’s not really a secret,” Snape said. “It’s true, and a fair number of people know it—they just don’t know the circumstances surrounding it. What else?”

“There aren’t any more rumors,” Seamus admitted reluctantly.

“Don’t feel bad, Seamus—these ones are important,” Snape said. “This fairly well proves that you’re making progress with proving your position. Hopefully, the mistake that was made won’t set your progress back more than a little.”

Seamus looked a bit happier when he heard that. “Okay. Hey, um… I don’t know how important it is, but a few days ago a man approached me—more directly than usual.”

“How directly?” Snape asked, alarmed.

“He was still pretty subtle, but he was a lot more clear with what he was about,” Seamus answered. “He all but asked if I wanted access to Dark magic.”

Snape’s eyes narrowed. “Exactly when did this happen?”

“It was three days ago— I remember thinking that it was odd that that happened not too long after I got your message about today,” Seamus said.

“It sounds like the mistake happened right before this man approached you,” Snape said, sounding nervous.

“Could be. I don’t know exactly.” Seamus shrugged. “Like I said, I don’t know how important it is, but—”

“Oh, it’s important, right enough,” a voice said from the shadows. Five wands pointed as a figure uncurled from the wall, and Trelawney and Seamus gasped as Fenrir Greyback stalked gracefully into the light.

It was late afternoon, and nor was it the time of month for full moon, but Greyback was still a powerful, imposing figure. He was large and muscular, and not much shorter than Hagrid. He wore a Death Eater cloak, but it barely fit him and he wore the hood lowered, displaying his long, unkempt graying hair. It was a mark of how fearful a figure he was that despite his not carrying a wand, the five figures were clearly fearful of him.

“Yeah, it’s important,” he repeated, ignoring the wands pointed at him. “I should know—I sent Bulrush to sound Finnegan out right after we heard the Next Chosen Target Harry Potter might not be as far from Finnegan’s graces as we’d thought.”

“How the hell did you get in here?” Seamus yelped.

“Front door,” Greyback answered as if it were obvious. “Werewolves c’n be quiet when they want to. Should’ve Portkeyed Finnegan further away, Potter—I could almost smell him all the way from town.” He turned and looked straight at Snape. “I hate Polyjuice,” he growled. “Even changes your smell, and I like to smell who I’m killing. Not that I’ll mind tearing out Snape’s throat, mind you—uptight bastard always though he was better’n me.”

“You won’t be tearing out any throats today, Greyback,” Snape replied in a dangerous tone.

Greyback threw his head back and let out a bark of laughter. “Even from Snape’s body I can hear the fear in your voice, boy!” he cried. “And in case you think I’ve thrown myself before your tender mercies, well… I’m not stupid enough to come alone.”

Four pops signaled the appearance of four hooded Death Eaters. Wands whipped rapidly back and forth as Trelawney, Hagrid, Seamus and the Death Eaters tried to decide who to aim for, but Snape and McGonagall never took their focus off of Greyback. “Don’t move!” one of the Death Eaters shrieked at Hagrid, clearly shocked by his size.

“Yeh’re the one that shouldn’t move!” Hagrid boomed back.

Even with all the wands being pointed, no one cast a spell. “Greyback,” Snape drawled, “it’s a stalemate.”

“You think so?” Greyback asked, pulling on his lip with one long, yellowing nail. “The Dark Lord don’t care if all these die, though,” he said, broadly gesturing at the Death Eaters, “and they’re ready to die for him. C’n your school chums say the same? I know there’s at least one Weasley here,” he added, sizing up Hagrid, and then Trelawney. “Bet you’d be interested to know that snotty brother sold you out to us.”

“Percy?” Trelawney shouted, her normally distant eyes blazing.

“Yeah, that’s the one,” Greyback said lazily, clearly pleased he’d struck home. “Ran right to the Dark Lord, he did, when he found out Finnegan was still in Potter’s good graces. Led us right to you, see?” He grinned, exposing his filthy, elongated canines. “Once the Dark Lord’s toppled the Ministry, we’ll be sure to thank Mister Percy while we’re torturin’ him to death.” He yawned hugely. “Eh, talking bores me, and we ain’t got a lot of time. Wish I could bring you to the Dark Lord in person, Potter—he’d’ve liked that, you see. But sometimes you have to do what you have to do.”

Without warning Greyback pivoted and lunged at Snape, claws out and teeth bared, far faster than any normal human could have. Snape tried to get off a hex but there was no time—

From nowhere McGonagall threw herself between Snape and Greyback, the beginning of a Curse on her lips. Greyback tackled her to the ground, slashing at her face and hands, and she only just managed to get a burst of sparks off before Greyback’s teeth tore into her throat, ripping it out and sending blood spattering everywhere. “HERMIONE!” Seamus screamed.

But Snape’s wand was still pointed. Greyback lifted his head, blood dripping from his chin—he gave Snape an opening, and Snape took it. “Incendio!”

Greyback’s fur ignited, engulfing him in flame. He howled like a dog in pain and leapt back, trying desperately to pat down the fire, but that only made it worse. In his mad contortions he collided with the wall, and the flames leapt to the ancient wood. One of the Death Eaters cast a water charm at Greyback but missed—and he took his eyes off the others long enough for an alert Trelawney to sight on him and shout “Hyttan Çowerselfus Ealne!” The Death Eater hollered in surprise when against his will his hands curled into fists and started slamming themselves into his face and head.

Suddenly curses were flying everywhere. The Death Eater nearest to Hagrid took his eyes off the half-giant to fling the Killing Curse at Trelawney, who ducked it. Hagrid reached the woman in two strides, swung his massive arm around and backhanded her into a wall hard enough to knock her unconscious. Another of the Death Eaters, apparently valuing his life more than his loyalty, Disapparated. The final one cast an Incendio at Snape, which flew wide and set the front door ablaze, and then Disapparated just before Seamus’ Stunning Spell hit him.

Snape was trying to avoid Greyback, who was a moving pillar of fire. The werewolf was still fighting in vain to put out the flames, and was moving erratically, getting too close to Snape for comfort. A sudden lunge toward Snape caused him to instinctively raise his wand and shout “Bombarda!” Greyback flew backward, slamming into the burning wall and breaking through it; a crash signaled that the next wall hadn’t given way.

Hagrid cast a Stunning Spell on the Death Eater who’d been hit by the Self-Punching Hex, who collapsed almost gratefully. “Hermione!” Seamus shouted again, running over to the body of McGonagall. He fell to his knees, his cheeks soaked with tears. “No… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… oh Merlin, Hermione…”

“That’s not Hermione, Seamus,” Trelawney said, running over.

“Wh-what?” Seamus looked up at her. “But—”

“It’s not,” Hagrid confirmed. “Harry, we have to get out of here, the whole place is gonna come down!”

“You’re right,” Snape said, peering through the broken wall where Greyback was no longer visible. “Plus, Greyback could still be dangerous.” He turned quickly and glared at Seamus. “You’re not safe on your own any more,” he said shortly. “The hell with spying—you’re done. You’re coming back with us.”

“But—but—look, if this isn’t Hermione, then w-who—”

“Later,” Snape said shortly. “Ron, get the body.”

“What?” Hagrid yelped.

“You’re stronger than us! Just do it!” Snape ordered loudly. “Ginny, help me with the Death Eaters!”

Within thirty seconds Snape had transformed two Galleons into Portkeys and Trelawney had used them to send the two unconscious Death Eaters to the Ministry. Hagrid had pulled a ragged old sheet off the back of a couch and wrapped McGonagall’s body in it, and then hoisted it over his shoulder, looking repulsed.

Snape and Trelawney ran back over to Seamus and Hagrid; Snape transformed another Galleon into a Portkey and pushed it into Seamus’ hand. “Seamus,” he said, “Dumbledore’s Army is staying in the House of Black at Twelve Grimmauld Place in London. Tap the Galleon with your wand and say ‘The House of Black’.” When Seamus hesitated, Snape pointed his wand. “We don’t have time to think about it, the Shrieking Shack is about to collapse! Do it now!”

Seamus did as he was told, and vanished. Snape, Trelawney and Hagrid all exchanged a quick glance as they pulled out their own Galleons, and followed Seamus.