All Kinds of Directions

Seamus woke up on the floor of an old abandoned building. He shook his head to clear away the cobwebs from his brain, and sat up.

The man and woman were there, and the woman was twirling Seamus’s wand in his hand. More disturbed by that than he let on, Seamus turned and saw the other two people present, and they were about the last people he’d have expected.

Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange were sitting on boxes, staring at Seamus. Reeling in shock, Seamus suddenly realized where he’d seen the man and woman before: right alongside the pictures of the Lestranges in The Daily Prophet the day two years earlier when they’d all broken out of Azkaban together! But Bellatrix was supposed to be dead—it had been all over the wizarding papers how Neville Longbottom had killed her! While Seamus was trying to get a grip on his mounting fear, Bellatrix spoke; “What is your name?”

Seamus was compelled to try and say his name, but the Voice-Stealing Hex hadn’t been removed and he only mouthed Seamus Finnegan. Bellatrix glanced ironically at the other woman, who shrugged apologetically and cast the counter-hex. “As I said, what is your name?” Bellatrix asked again.

“Seamus Finnegan,” Seamus said; again he was compelled to answer truthfully, and a suspicion dawned on him. “Veritaserum?” he asked, confused—he would have expected the Cruciatus Curse.

“This time we didn’t bother to ask,” Bellatrix said wryly. “We didn’t want to have to break any more Imperius Curses, or dodge any other Unforgivables.”

Seamus realized with a start what that meant; Bellatrix was implying that the four Death Eaters were actually Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny under Polyjuice Potion. Bellatrix—Harry—was referring to the time when they’d asked Seamus to join the D.A. He’d responded by attacking them, forced to by the Imperius Curse he was under.

Seamus opened his mouth, but Bellatrix held up a hand. “No names,” she said. “You know who we are.”

Seamus thought he knew; but Voldemort almost definitely knew about how Seamus had attacked them as well, so it didn’t automatically mean that Bellatrix was Harry. She could still be alive, despite what the papers said, or she could be another Death Eater in disguise. “Prove who you are,” Seamus said pointedly.

Bellatrix stared intently at him for a moment. “After we hadn’t seen each other in months, you accused me of having a go at your mother,” she said finally. “And I said I’d have a go at anyone who called me a liar.”

Seamus flushed a bit, embarrassed that he’d not believed Harry had been telling the truth about Voldemort’s return. “Yeah, all right,” he muttered.

“How did Harry Potter transport the two of you to your parents’ cottage in Ireland?” Bellatrix asked. It was very strange hearing Harry’s mode of speech in Bellatrix’s voice.

“I don’t know.”

Bellatrix rolled her eyes, which looked very odd from her—the eyes almost looked sane. “What did Harry Potter do that seemed to transport you and him to the field outside your parents’ cottage in Ireland?” she asked, making her question very specific.

“He pulled out a colorful feather. He had everyone present touch it. Then he tapped it with his wand, and he and I were suddenly outside my parents’ cottage.”

“Are you under anyone else’s control now?”

“No.”

“Do you support Voldemort, or agree with his beliefs and practices?”

“No!”

Are you actively and intentionally helping Dumbledore’s Army with the intention of helping defeat Voldemort?”

“Yes.”

Bella—Harry nodded, seeming satisfied. “Okay; this room is secure, so we shouldn’t be overheard, but we didn’t want to take chances.” Seamus nodded. “What did you need to tell us about?”

“There’s a few rumors I’ve heard,” he said, trying to remember them in detail. “One was that Draco Malfoy was You-Know-Who’s newest right-hand man, and was showing up at the houses of prominent wizards and witches to intimidate and bully them.”

The dumpy wizard snorted; even Bellatrix was suppressing a smile, but she only asked “What else?”

“Someone named Fenrir Greyback has a spy inside the Ministry,” Seamus said. “He’s using the information from the spy to figure out what Harry Potter is up to. Greyback plans on killing Harry Potter himself.”

Bellatrix frowned, apparently not too impressed with the rumor. “Do you have any reason to think these are more than just rumors?”

“No.”

Rodolphus huffed in a way that made it clear to Seamus that Hermione had taken the role of Bellatrix’s husband—funny, Seamus would have assumed Harry would take Rodolphus and Ginny Bellatrix. “Have you heard anything else?” Rodolphus/Hermione asked. “Anything with a bit more to support it?”

“The Muggle Prime Minister is central to You-Know-Who’s long-term plans,” Seamus said; he wanted to be a bit indignant that they weren’t taking his news seriously, but the Veritaserum made him answer each question immediately and without embellishment.

There was silence for a moment. “What makes you say that?” Bellatrix asked.

“I heard him mentioned on three separate occasions in reference to You-Know-Who,” Seamus said.

“Is the Prime Minister in danger?” Rodolphus asked.

“I don’t know.”

Bellatrix resumed the questions: “The three times you heard the Muggle Prime Minister mentioned, did any of them suggest that Voldemort might be after him?”

Seamus shuddered at Voldemort’s name. “One of the three times, it was implied that You-Know-Who would be going to murder the Muggle Prime Minister for associating with the Ministry of Magic.”

“And the other two times, what was the connection between Voldemort and the Muggle Prime Minister?”

“The first time, the rumor was that You-Know-Who had placed the Muggle Prime Minister under the Imperius Curse. The second time, the rumor was that You-Know-Who had ordered the Muggle Prime Minister was not to be harmed, or the person who did would feel You-Know-Who’s wrath personally.”

Bellatrix glanced around at the others, frowning. “Those rumors contradict each other.”

Seamus hadn’t been asked a question, but was still free to answer. “I know, but my hearing three connections between You-Know-Who and the Muggle Prime Minister within a week of each other? It seems unlikely it’s coincidence, doesn’t it?”

“It does,” Bellatrix agreed. “Hmm. Did you hear anything more any of the three times?”

“No,” Seamus said, and added “Most of what I hear’s in overheard sentences. I can’t linger or it’ll be obvious.”

“So you haven’t managed to get anyone to invite you to the inside track, so to speak?” the other woman asked, speaking for the first time. She sounded disappointed.

“No,” Seamus confirmed, feeling a bit ashamed; he knew the D.A. needed every bit of information they could get, and he was supposed to be one of their best sources. “A number of people have made overtures, but I’ve been trying to make it seem like I’m as angry at You-Know-Who as I am at you lot.”

“Which is realistic,” Bellatrix said. “So you’re kind of gradually becoming more open—at least, from their point of view?”

“Yeah,” Seamus confirmed. “A few are staying around and checking in every now and then, so it seems like they’re buying it.”

“Good,” Bellatrix said, nodding as if satisfied. “That’s all you should be doing right now—don’t push your luck. Are there any other rumors you’ve heard that are relevant to what we’re doing and seem like there’s a chance they might be true?”

Seamus thought for a minute. “No,” he said finally.

“All right.” Bellatrix pulled out a Galleon and tossed it to Seamus, who caught it. “It’s a Portkey,” she said. “After one use it becomes a regular Galleon again, so feel free to spend it. Just tap it with your wand and say ‘Portus’ and it’ll take you back to your flat.”

“Right,” Seamus said. He suddenly realized he was still sitting, and hauled himself upright. “Er… Can I have my wand, then?” he asked.

“In a second,” Bellatrix said. She looked very uncomfortable, but resolute. “Seamus, it has to look to anyone who sees you like you were mugged last night; no one will believe you went into that alley and didn’t get mugged.”

“Uh…yeah, okay,” Seamus said, seeing the sense in that. “But I don’t know what—” He stopped when it hit him. “Oh,” he said weakly. “You mean I have to look beaten up.”

“We’re really sorry, Seamus,” Rodolphus said guiltily. “But it will even corroborate your cover further…”

“How do you mean?”

“She means,” the other woman—Ginny, Seamus was certain—said impatiently, “that if you got beat up outside a pub you wouldn’t bother to get the bruises Healed; you’d be too angry or hurt to care.”

Seamus gritted his teeth; he wasn’t about to admit it, but he’d done just what they were saying a couple of times. “So you’re going to…what, punch me a lot?” he demanded angrily.

“No,” Bellatrix said; her face wasn’t as expressive as Harry’s, so Seamus couldn’t tell if the bastard was feeling guilty. “None of us have much strength or coordination in our current… forms, so it’ll be spells.” She walked up to Seamus and put her hands on his shoulders. “Seamus, mate… We don’t want to do this,” she said earnestly. “We talked it through for ages, but the fact is that if we overlook any little detail it could cost us our lives—not just the five of us in this room, but everyone in the… in our group. We just can’t take the chance. We don’t want to hurt you. We’re doing what we have to, even if it disgusts us, to try and win the war.”

Seamus shook his head. “I can’t talk to you like this,” he said gruffly, turning away. “It’s just too wrong, you talking to me like that and looking like Bellatrix Lestrange. Neville’s my friend, and what you did to him—” He stopped. “Sorry. What she did to him.” He looked back at the tall, graceful woman and his face darkened. “I’m glad she’s dead.”

“So are we,” Bellatrix said. “Er… Look, we’ll Stupefy you before we do the spells…”

“No,” Seamus said. He turned back and drew himself up proudly. “If you do, the result of the spells might not look real. You’ve gotta do it like I was fighting you.” He stood up straight and braced himself. “Go on; I can take it.”

Bellatrix smiled and drew her wand. “Thanks, Seamus,” she said. “When this is all over we’ll make sure that everyone knows what you’ve done.” She raised her wand. “Bombarda!”

*****

Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione Apparated to a completely different location and sat in silence for some minutes, waiting for their Polyjuice Potion to wear off. Harry changed back first, grimacing with discomfort as Bellatrix Lestrange left the building. Once they’d all gotten their bodies back they Apparated to the back room of Fred and George’s shop, and took the Floo to the House of Black. They gave only cursory greetings to those they saw, except when they reached the bedrooms on the third floor; then Ginny went and knocked on Hannah Abbott’s door to ask a question while the other three friends filed into Hermione and Ron’s room.

Ginny joined them a moment later, and shut the door behind her. They all sat and stared at nothing for a bit until Hermione broke the silence; “That was horrible.”

Everyone else nodded unhappily. “The way Seamus just…just accepted it,” Ginny breathed, like she couldn’t believe it. “I don’t understand—I know there was sense in it, but he didn’t even fight or curse us or anything… he just stood there and took it!”

“I don’t get it either,” Ron muttered. “He didn’t even take a swing at any of us! If he’d punched me I’d have let him—he sure earned it. I’d’ve punched you in his place, Harry, and you looking like Bellatrix would’ve been icing on the cake.”

“Yeah, I know,” Harry replied. “Seamus didn’t try to stop us because he didn’t want to.”

“Didn’t want to?” Ron repeated incredulously.

“Seamus thinks it’s his fault his parents died,” Harry said dully. “He probably thinks he should have been able to fight the Imperius Curse too, so it’s his fault that he attacked us all that day.”

“He can’t think that!” Hermione exclaimed, looking stricken by the thought. “He has to know there was nothing he could have done…”

Harry gave her a sardonic look. “Are you suggesting that I don’t understand feeling guilty over the deaths of others?” he asked. “Seamus thinks he deserves to be hurt. It’s his penance.” He shrugged helplessly. “He all but said so in St. Mungo’s that night when I Apparated in to ask for his help. I tried to talk him out of it, but…”

“We can’t let this go on, Harry,” Hermione insisted. “Seamus needs help—to let him go on like this, even to help in the war, is just cruel!”

“And what’s happened to the rest of us isn’t?” Harry shot back angrily. “You and Ron have both been cursed; so have Fred and George. Neville had his memory modified. What about Ernie? At least Seamus is still alive! He’s not the only one who lost people close to him!”

There was a long pause. “We all know what you’ve lost and what you’ve given up, Harry,” Hermione whispered. “You don’t have to remind us.”

Harry stared at Hermione blankly. “I wasn’t even talking about me,” he muttered. “I was thinking of the MacMillans, and Mr. and Mrs. Diggory. And Cho, too. Hannah lost her mum; Susan lost her aunt. The D.A. lost Ernie, and the entire wizarding world lost Dumbledore.” He rubbed his eyes. “Look, I went over all of this with Seamus, including what he’d have to sacrifice. He can walk away any time he wants, he can come join us like the rest of the D.A…. I told him that. All he has to do is say so. He’s chosen to do what he’s doing.”

“Out of guilt,” Hermione argued. “He’s not in a healthy frame of mind, Harry, and he wasn’t when you asked him to do this! It’s not fair to him!”

“What the hell is fair in all this?” Ginny retorted. “This is war, Hermione—the side that fights fair is destined to lose!”

Hermione apparently couldn’t think of a response to that…not one that was appropriate or constructive, anyway. “Hermione, this isn’t going to change,” Harry said. “I know you hate it; so do I. But for now we’ll do what we have to, and when everything’s over we’ll make sure Seamus gets everything he needs and all the accolades he deserves.” Hermione clearly didn’t think that was good enough, but nodded. “Okay…so what did you all make of Seamus’ rumors?” he asked, clearly wanting to change the subject.

“Well the first one about Malfoy was clearly bunk,” Ron said. “Malfoy definitely hasn’t been going around bullying people.”

“Yeah, I don’t think Draco’s a good enough wizard—or clever enough—t o be Voldemort’s right hand,” Ginny agreed with a smirk. “Plus, it seemed like he’d been holed up in that old house for ages before we nabbed him.”

“Someone could easily have Polyjuiced into Draco,” Hermione pointed out. “But there wouldn’t really be any point. Draco certainly isn’t more likely to intimidate anyone than the other, adult Death Eaters.”

Harry nodded. “The second rumor, about Greyback, could be true,” he said, “but I don’t know how helpful it is. We all knew Voldemort has spies in the Ministry.”

“Not to mention that we know Greyback can’t kill you,” Ron added. “One must die at the hand of the other, right?”

“Right; it’ll come down to me and Voldemort, no matter what,” Harry agreed.

“But that doesn’t mean Greyback won’t try,” Ginny pointed out. “Voldemort doesn’t know the prophecy, so he might even have ordered Greyback to try to get you, any way he can. And even if he can’t kill you, Greyback could do a lot of damage with the right information.”

“Anything Greybeard learns, Voldemort would know,” Hermione said. “I don’t think we need to worry about Greyback having some additional knowledge. There’s only one thing I’m concerned with about that rumor,” she added nervously. “The idea that Greyback has a spy who has intimate knowledge of your movement, Harry; that was what Seamus implied—that the person was giving him information specific to you.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, rubbing the back of his neck apprehensively. “But who in the Ministry has any kind of knowledge where I am and what I’m doing?”

“Tonks,” Ginny said promptly. “I can’t imagine her doing anything of her own free will, but she could have been put under Imperius. She knows a lot about the D.A., and she’s an Auror.”

But Harry shook his head. “I checked Tonks with Veritaserum when she brought me Scrimgeour’s hairs for the Polyjuice Potion; she hasn’t been controlled in any way.”

“There’s my dad,” Ron said reluctantly, “but he doesn’t know anything about the D.A., really…”

“Your father can’t be under the Imperius Curse, Ron,” Hermione said softly. “There’s a new Ministry policy that everyone in a supervisory position must go through a Veritaserum interrogation once a week for just that reason.”

Harry hadn’t heard that. “That’s good,” he said. “It’s about time the Ministry started trying to weed out spies.”

“Their system’s fairly simple to circumvent, though,” Hermione pointed out. “All the people who aren’t supervisors don’t have to submit to the tests. And what if the people doing the interrogation are spies themselves? They could just use water and pretend it’s Veritaserum.”

“Well, nothing the Ministry did would be completely foolproof,” Ginny said resignedly. “So at least we know we can pretty well count on the fact that there’ll always be Voldemort spies in the Ministry, and behave accordingly.”

“Overall, I’m inclined to think the second rumor is false as well,” Hermione said firmly. “No one in the Ministry has enough information to give Greyback anything concrete. So even if Greyback does think he’s going to get you, Harry, he hasn’t got a better chance than Voldemort does. ” The others nodded their agreement.

“Speaking of Ministries,” Ron said, “what about those rumors about the Muggle Prime Minister? Think there’s anything to them?”

“I don’t know what to make of those, to be honest,” Hermione said with a frown. “Seamus was right—it does seem like too much of a coincidence to have heard three separate rumors linking the Prime Minister to Voldemort. But the three rumors were completely different, so how can we know if they have any truth to them? And if so, which ones?”

“Well, let’s look at them separately,” Harry suggested. “The first one said that Voldemort was going to kill the Prime Minister. We’ve been checking the Muggle news, so we’d definitely have heard if that had happened. He could still be at risk, but the rumor is at least a day or two old so it seems unlikely that Voldemort would do it now if he hasn’t yet.”

“The second one was that the Prime Minister was under the Imperius Curse,” Ginny said. “That would be a lot harder to disprove.”

“Tonks told us that Kingsley Shacklebolt was sent to be the Prime Minister’s secretary,” Harry reminded them. “Scrimgeour sent him, so they’re obviously concerned for his safety, at least.”

“I suspect the Muggle Prime Minister is aware of the danger, or at the very least our Ministry is checking him regularly for any signs of Voldemort’s tampering,” Hermione said.

“What makes you say that?” Harry asked skeptically.

“During our third year, when Sirius escaped from Azkaban, Fudge was heavily criticized for warning the Muggle Prime Minister about Sirius. So the Prime Minister obviously knows about the wizarding world at the very least.”

“How in Merlin’s name do you remember this stuff?” Ron asked, looking amazed. “Your memory’s unbelievable!”

Hermione blushed at the compliment. “Well, it was one of the very few times I ever agreed with Fudge’s decisions.”

“So even if our Ministry never told the Prime Minister about Voldemort or the danger he’s in, then our Ministry would still be checking in on him and would know if he was put under Imperius,” Ginny concluded. “Scrimgeour is smart enough to think to test the Prime Minister if he thought of testing the supervisors within our Ministry. So that fairly well eliminates that rumor.” The others agreed.

“That only leaves the last,” Harry said. “That Voldemort put out the word for everyone to stay clear of the Muggle Prime Minister or receive a visit from Voldemort himself.”

“I don’t see why Voldemort would say that,” Hermione said thoughtfully.

“What if the Prime Minister is helping Voldemort willingly?” Ginny suggested. “That wouldn’t show up if they checked him for Imperius.”

“They’d still probably use Veritaserum on him,” Harry replied. “Scrimgeour’s a bastard, but he’s not stupid. He’ll have checked the Prime Minister’s allegiances any way he could.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Ginny admitted. “So that brings us back to the same question: why would Voldemort demand that the Muggle Prime Minister was to be left alone?”

“If he did, it was to protect something,” Ron said slowly. “There’s no other reason to give an order like that. But what if the Prime Minister isn’t what he’s protecting? It sounds like we’re fairly certain that the Prime Minister isn’t under Voldemort’s control, or helping him, so there’s no reason to protect him. Maybe there’s someone else? Or something? Like, in the Prime Minister’s office?”

“Like a Horcrux, you mean?” Ginny said sarcastically, and Harry snorted.

“I don’t know, I’m just talking,” Ron said defensively. “You tell me a better reason for Voldemort to give an order like that, then!”

“I don’t think there is one,” Hermione said, placating. “My vote would be that this rumor is false as well. It simply doesn’t bear up to logical consideration.”

They all thought for a moment more, and then agreed with Hermione: the idea that Voldemort would do anything to protect the Muggle Prime Minister for any reason was simply too far-fetched. “So we didn’t really get anything useful out of Seamus after all,” Ron said dejectedly.

“This time,” Ginny said. “Seamus is still working on gaining trust; there’ll be a point when he’s giving us information that’s really useful, I’m sure of it.”

“I’m not,” Harry retorted. “I didn’t want to get Seamus down by saying so, but at the rate he’s going, by the time he’s gotten anything useful it’ll be too late to help! Our sources are all proving unhelpful!”

“We really need more information,” Hermione said needlessly, biting a nail. “Luna’s not been much help with information from The Quibbler lately, her being…distracted, and Rita Skeeter said that Scrimgeour is leaning heavily on The Daily Prophet so she’s not hearing much useful either.”

“Tonks is telling us what she hears from inside the Ministry,” Harry added, “but she’s not on the inside track with Scrimgeour so she doesn’t find out much. And Minerva sends us anything the Order hears, but half the time it’s about raids that have already happened, and the other half is the same stuff we get from Tonks!”

“Harry, calm down,” Ginny said sharply.

Harry took a deep breath to steady himself. “Sorry. I’m just frustrated. We aren’t getting any useful information. Draco was supposed to help with that—Ginny, what did Hannah say?”

“I asked her if she’d seen or heard Pansy since her door is right across from Pansy’s, but Hannah said she hadn’t seen Pansy all night,” Ginny said with a frown.

Harry’s eyebrows shot up. “It sounds like Pansy hasn’t left her room for an entire day,” he said.

“She went in to talk to Malfoy, and no one’s seen her since?” Ron exclaimed. “Bloody hell, for all we know he’s killed her!”

“Don’t be absurd, Ron,” Hermione scoffed. “For all we know they’ve spent the entire day in bed together!”

“You just had to put that image in my head, didn’t you?” Ron grumbled.

“I’ll check in on her before going to bed,” Harry said. “If she tells me about anything interesting that Draco said, I’ll tell you all tomorrow. But if nothing came of it, we’re going to have to consider more direct methods of getting something out of him. Right now we only have two potential sources that might actually yield inside information about Voldemort,” Harry said. “Snape and Draco. Snape’s kind of out—he won’t give up any more memories without some kind of concession, and that’s not an option. So that leaves Draco.”

“I think we should try to talk to him at the very least,” Hermione said. “It would be better all around if we could convince him to side with us. I’m not suggesting it’s likely,” she added huffily at Harry’s deeply skeptical look, “but we should at least try!”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Harry agreed grudgingly. “Let’s not try and decide what to do until tomorrow, all right? We’ll all meet up in the conference room…say, at noon? That’ll give us the chance to mull it over. And Hermione, tomorrow morning can you check in with Luna and see if she’s made any progress with the book Sawol Immortalis?”

“I’ll ask her, but don’t expect much,” Hermione reminded him.

“Yeah, I know…I might have to ask you to leave off the Black family ledgers even more and start working all the time with Luna again once we’ve dealt with Neville,” Harry said. “Figuring out how to destroy the Horcruxes is more important right now; the vaults aren’t going anywhere, but I get more nervous every time I think about the two Horcruxes in our trunk downstairs.” Hermione nodded her understanding.

“I never asked—what’s the latest with figuring out how to restore Neville’s memories?” Ginny asked. “Are we going to try whatever Sally-Ann, Padma and Terry come up with?”

“Yeah, we are,” Harry confirmed. “We’re talking to them again in a few days, by which point they think they’ll have a good idea what we have to do. Then a couple more days of double-checking everything and practice for me and Lavender, and we’ll try it.”

Harry and Ginny left shortly after so Ron and Hermione could get some sleep. Ginny kissed Harry before heading to their room, while Harry went the opposite way until he reached Pansy’s door. He knocked and waited, but there was no response. Frowning, he knocked again. “Pansy?’ he said loudly. “It’s Harry. Are you in there?”

The door swung open and Pansy glared furiously out at Harry. She looked an absolute wreck; her usually perfectly-coifed hair was loose and un-brushed, and her eyes were puffy and red. She was also still wearing the same clothes Harry had seen her in the day before. “What?” she snarled, so viciously that Harry actually stepped back a pace. “What the bloody hell do you want?”

“Er…I was worried about you,” Harry stammered. “We all were, no one’s seen you for—”

“How sweet,” Pansy sneered. “Well, I can take care of myself just fine, thank you! And before you ask, NO! I didn’t get any useful information out of that dickless, brainless, evil little shite Draco Malfoy!” And before Harry could respond, Pansy slammed the door in his face.