Chapter 2!
Title: Liberation
Author: CrimsonShinigami
Pairing: Severus Snape x Harry Potter - in the far future. Others are possible too.
Part: 2/?
Words: 5197/50000
Summary: After the loss of the Battle for Hogwarts, all of Britain was thrown into slavery to Voldemort's reign. Working as a Captain in the Resistance, Harry Potter has had to learn to live the hard way, as a fugitive - while earnestly fighting to save lives, and deliver liberty through Voldemort's end. But with more Horcruxes to find, the question of disquiet within the ranks of the Resistance, and his rediscovery by the Wizarding world: is it really going to be as easy as he might hope?
Chapter 2
It was, Harry recollected - when again he woke - an extremely peaceful night, in retrospect. There had been no disasters that had required his attention, and at the raid, there had been no battle with armed Wizards, or any unfortunate incidents with the escaping Muggles. No one had questioned his authority, or outright attacked him for being ‘one of them’. In fact, Harry could think of nothing that had really gone wrong, except, of course for the noise in the kitchen. Soon, he knew, he’d know the exact details of what had occurred behind him, but right now, he had to wake up. Thankfully, waking up had never been that difficult for him. Quidditch practice and cooking breakfast for the Dursleys had drummed him into being an early riser.
Groggy and untidy, Harry climbed out of the hammock and made his way straight to the water source; a tapped underground spring. Their home, for the thousand or so people who made up the Resistance here in Wiltshire, was an underground cave system that had been an ammunition storage facility during World War II. He knelt beside the large basin of water and splashed some into his eyes, then rubbed his fingers into his cheeks; closing his eyes tightly as he did so.
“Good morning.”
Harry opened his eyes, and smiled at the woman across from him. “Good sleep, Jules?”
“I got at least two hours more than you, I think,” she replied, moving around the fountain and looking Harry up and down. “Not that it shows, except in your eyes. Oh, and your hair of course. You even look clean shaven.”
Harry smiled and looked down at the water, flushing slightly from the consideration. Ah…it was too early in the morning for this. “Wizards look exactly as they think they ought to look. Unless their appearance has been magically altered somehow…”
“Like Voldemort,” Jules finished, for him, grinning. “Or your scar, right?”
Harry reached up to touch his scar, and then nodded. “That’s right. So I’m always going to look cleanly shaven, unless I start thinking that I ought to grow a beard, in which case…”
Jules smiled at him, moving to splash a little of the water in his direction. “Come on. We’d better get along to the meeting chamber. Old Krone’s going to have our guts if we’re late.”
The meeting chamber was the old Control Room. Old maps of Britain behind glass walls showed most of the old bunkers around Britain. Some were destroyed, others now contained Resistance groups in other areas of the country. Harry knew of two himself; one in the far north; a Highland Unit which was run by members of the RAF, and another in London, in an unopened Underground station.
Harry knew, also, that there must exist some similar units in Wales, and in the Midlands, near Chester and Liverpool - but such information was kept from him intentionally. Already he knew perhaps too much.
Harry and Jules arrived precisely on time, slipping in between the members of the rest of the team; other Captains, and of course the General himself. The General of Supplies was also there, and Harry glanced briefly towards Jules. It didn’t bode well, really. The General of Supplies was in a constant state of stress; as it was his raids that the entire Movement depended upon.
By taking up position at the center on his side of the room, Harry instantly made it clear that as Captain, he was directly responsible for what had happened the previous night, and would therefore take the flak and punishment for anything that was considered inaction, or any bad decision.
Old Krone, who was otherwise known as Michael Kronenbourg, was a graying man with thick black hair, cropped short, and an amount of rugged beard that any Muggle would have after so long without seeing a method of shaving that wasn’t a knife, or a pair of scissors. If it wasn’t for the fact that he had saved Harry’s life on several occasions, and been responsible for taking him into the Movement in the Highlands; Harry might have been afraid of him. After all, he did look an awful lot like Bluto, the Popeye villain, and he spoke in a harsh Scottish accent, that sounded like stones being ground together. Right now though, he didn’t look at all angry with Harry. His eyes kept darting towards David Regussin, the General of Stores, after which his right eyebrow would twitch, and he’d turn back to look at the assembled team.
It was Krone who addressed them first, though, much to Harry’s relief - asserting his own control over the meeting.
“You freed twenty three and six,” he started. That translated to twenty three Muggles, and six ‘Special’ cases, or Wizards, for Harry’s own reference. He’d known vaguely that, however, the night before. Now, he was much more eager to know what the rest of the team had to say. Krone, however, wasn’t quite finished.
“This is the seventh house that has been successfully raided by you, Potter. Others,” he motioned towards the other assembled Captains, “Have not been quite so successful in their Liberations. You have broken the record - you are an exemplary Captain.”
He paused here, as though to let that sink in, then motioned towards Harry. “Deliver your report now, Captain Potter.”
Harry, admittedly, had been surprised by the compliment - but he knew full well it was a part of Krone’s continuing protection of him. Reg wasn’t here just for decorum - he would, no doubt, bring up the question of the pantry stores that Harry had failed to capture. It hadn’t been the first time, of course. Harry’s determination to rescue every prisoner very often resulted in their cover being blown early, and failure to capture stores.
Reg; the General of Stores, was a wiry, ill tempered redhead and a very Anti-Magic Muggle. As far as he was concerned, every Wizard was the same as the others, which translated simply: Harry was as bad, in his eyes, as Voldemort himself. Harry, having grown up around such Muggles, had learnt very early on just how dangerous that could be. It worried him, now. Reg could do some serious damage to him, if he did not behave perfectly, and considering how easily he could be wound up, there wasn’t much challenge in that.
Still, he was expected to deliver his report - and so that was what he began to do.
“The house was exactly where the plans said it would be. There was no discrepancy in the Intelligence we received, and the map was perfect. Entering the premises was easy; typical wards, with the door locked normally. I posted a guard at the top of the stair, and descended, leading the team below. The prison wards were a little more trouble than I’d expected. I experienced two barriers in the prison chamber.”
“Two?” That was Reg - his voice smooth and mocking. “Why would there be two wards?”
Harry did not dare to turn towards him, and actively engage in the bait he’d laid down. He spoke to Krone, as though he’d been meaning to say it anyway. “I believe the second ward was designed to catch out anyone who got through the first ward. There was…a prisoner being held in that building of particular interest to me - and therefore of particular interest to the Death Eater, too.”
“A personal acquaintance?” Reg again.
This time, Harry did not answer. He moved on. “Having taken down both wards, we advanced on, freeing the prisoners in the first five chambers. A man in the main chamber helped to successfully wake the rest of the prisoners, and keep them quiet. I progressed to the end of the corridor, and located a hidden chamber, which contained one final prisoner.”
“Your friend,” Reg pressed.
“My friend,” Harry hissed, narrowing his eyes, but not averting his gaze from Krone. Out of corner of them, however, he saw the corner of Reg’s lips curl up.
“Chssini kissa,” Harry hissed, only loud enough for Jules, and the few members of his team closest to him to hear, before reigning himself in, and continuing. “We began the retreat in the normal way, with Julie Gatcher, my second, coming in behind the rest of the team, and those we rescued. She was to give me a signal when she was in running distance of me.”
“Upon reaching the perimeter of the building, and the exit, I heard a sound behind me; a loud crash. It woke up the household. The team then ran across the lawn to the manger, and I waited for Gatcher’s signal.”
This was Jules’ cue. She lifted her chin and stepped ever so slightly forwards to make herself known. “Commander Gatcher,” she announced, before continuing where Harry had left off. “The disturbance was caused by Verde Knorstrum,” she motioned towards said man; who at least didn’t flinch when he was mentioned. “He tried to lift one of the food dishes, but it burnt his hands and he dropped it. Show them your hands, Verde.”
Verde lifted his hands, showing the red marks that were the reminder of the mistake he’d made.
“You could have gotten someone killed, Knorstrum,” Krone snapped, glancing in his direction. The subject of food, obviously, was wearing him thin.
“At least,” came the annoyingly slimy voice, from said man, “Knorstrum tried to take something.”
“With all due respect, Sir,” Harry interrupted, turning his gaze furiously towards Reg. “Lifting food, or anything else from the house of a Wizard is dangerous business at the best of times. I’ve lost valuable men from touching cursed objects.”
Reg narrowed his eyes, now he had Harry’s attention, his whole body seeming to double in size as he readied himself. “With all due respect, Captain,” Reg snapped, “Every one of us would be dead without the chances taken by a few.”
“If you expect me to jeopardize a rescue operation for a handful of crumbs, you are sorely mistaken, Sir.”
“And if you expect to be kept alive by the glory of rescuing more half-starved servants and whores, then you are mistaken.”
Harry opened his mouth to reply again - but a glare from Krone, and Jules’ stabbing elbow forced him to close his mouth.
“I expect to see something more productive out of these escapades of yours,” Reg hissed, standing up and leveling his glare on Harry. “I know that your kind are particularly useless when it comes to actually committing physical labor. If that doesn’t change, Captain Potter, we’ll simply have to do something about it.”
Harry didn’t react until some time later, when he was in a nice, dark corner of the underground caves. He exploded, venting his fury to Jules, who was equally unhappy with Reg, though much more prudent in her silence.
“That damned Anti-Wizard prick! What the hell does he know?!”
“Keep your voice, down, Harry,” Jules encouraged. Harry turned his gaze back to her, narrowed his eyes briefly, but then relaxed again. He wasn’t angry at her; this much he knew.
“Just relax…you’ve had a trying night…” she whispered, glancing warily down the hall. Harry knew that she would be venting her own spleen, if she wasn’t so worried of Reg’s spies and underlings hanging around.
“I try to save lives, you know…” Harry murmured, lifting his head warily to look at Jules. He sighed and lifted his hand up, rubbing at his eyebrow, which ended up looking thoroughly bristled and untidy by the time he was done.
Jules licked her thumb and smoothed it back down, looking into Harry’s eyes seriously as she did so. “You have other things to worry about right now, Harry. You have to go and see that girl we rescued - your friend, remember?”
Harry nodded, turning to look away from the wall, and down the corridor. “They’ve driven her mad, Jules. Did you hear what she said her name was?”
“She called herself ‘Harry’,” Jules replied, as soothingly as she could, “But she sounded so sad, and apologetic. Couldn’t she just be Confounded?”
Harry lifted his eyes up towards the ceiling. “Even if that is the case, it still needs a team of qualified Mediwizards to work on her - and even then, the chances of recovery are pretty slim.”
Thank you for reading. There'll be more later! Hope this next bit lived up to your expectations!
Author: CrimsonShinigami
Pairing: Severus Snape x Harry Potter - in the far future. Others are possible too.
Part: 2/?
Words: 5197/50000
Summary: After the loss of the Battle for Hogwarts, all of Britain was thrown into slavery to Voldemort's reign. Working as a Captain in the Resistance, Harry Potter has had to learn to live the hard way, as a fugitive - while earnestly fighting to save lives, and deliver liberty through Voldemort's end. But with more Horcruxes to find, the question of disquiet within the ranks of the Resistance, and his rediscovery by the Wizarding world: is it really going to be as easy as he might hope?
Chapter 2
It was, Harry recollected - when again he woke - an extremely peaceful night, in retrospect. There had been no disasters that had required his attention, and at the raid, there had been no battle with armed Wizards, or any unfortunate incidents with the escaping Muggles. No one had questioned his authority, or outright attacked him for being ‘one of them’. In fact, Harry could think of nothing that had really gone wrong, except, of course for the noise in the kitchen. Soon, he knew, he’d know the exact details of what had occurred behind him, but right now, he had to wake up. Thankfully, waking up had never been that difficult for him. Quidditch practice and cooking breakfast for the Dursleys had drummed him into being an early riser.
Groggy and untidy, Harry climbed out of the hammock and made his way straight to the water source; a tapped underground spring. Their home, for the thousand or so people who made up the Resistance here in Wiltshire, was an underground cave system that had been an ammunition storage facility during World War II. He knelt beside the large basin of water and splashed some into his eyes, then rubbed his fingers into his cheeks; closing his eyes tightly as he did so.
“Good morning.”
Harry opened his eyes, and smiled at the woman across from him. “Good sleep, Jules?”
“I got at least two hours more than you, I think,” she replied, moving around the fountain and looking Harry up and down. “Not that it shows, except in your eyes. Oh, and your hair of course. You even look clean shaven.”
Harry smiled and looked down at the water, flushing slightly from the consideration. Ah…it was too early in the morning for this. “Wizards look exactly as they think they ought to look. Unless their appearance has been magically altered somehow…”
“Like Voldemort,” Jules finished, for him, grinning. “Or your scar, right?”
Harry reached up to touch his scar, and then nodded. “That’s right. So I’m always going to look cleanly shaven, unless I start thinking that I ought to grow a beard, in which case…”
Jules smiled at him, moving to splash a little of the water in his direction. “Come on. We’d better get along to the meeting chamber. Old Krone’s going to have our guts if we’re late.”
The meeting chamber was the old Control Room. Old maps of Britain behind glass walls showed most of the old bunkers around Britain. Some were destroyed, others now contained Resistance groups in other areas of the country. Harry knew of two himself; one in the far north; a Highland Unit which was run by members of the RAF, and another in London, in an unopened Underground station.
Harry knew, also, that there must exist some similar units in Wales, and in the Midlands, near Chester and Liverpool - but such information was kept from him intentionally. Already he knew perhaps too much.
Harry and Jules arrived precisely on time, slipping in between the members of the rest of the team; other Captains, and of course the General himself. The General of Supplies was also there, and Harry glanced briefly towards Jules. It didn’t bode well, really. The General of Supplies was in a constant state of stress; as it was his raids that the entire Movement depended upon.
By taking up position at the center on his side of the room, Harry instantly made it clear that as Captain, he was directly responsible for what had happened the previous night, and would therefore take the flak and punishment for anything that was considered inaction, or any bad decision.
Old Krone, who was otherwise known as Michael Kronenbourg, was a graying man with thick black hair, cropped short, and an amount of rugged beard that any Muggle would have after so long without seeing a method of shaving that wasn’t a knife, or a pair of scissors. If it wasn’t for the fact that he had saved Harry’s life on several occasions, and been responsible for taking him into the Movement in the Highlands; Harry might have been afraid of him. After all, he did look an awful lot like Bluto, the Popeye villain, and he spoke in a harsh Scottish accent, that sounded like stones being ground together. Right now though, he didn’t look at all angry with Harry. His eyes kept darting towards David Regussin, the General of Stores, after which his right eyebrow would twitch, and he’d turn back to look at the assembled team.
It was Krone who addressed them first, though, much to Harry’s relief - asserting his own control over the meeting.
“You freed twenty three and six,” he started. That translated to twenty three Muggles, and six ‘Special’ cases, or Wizards, for Harry’s own reference. He’d known vaguely that, however, the night before. Now, he was much more eager to know what the rest of the team had to say. Krone, however, wasn’t quite finished.
“This is the seventh house that has been successfully raided by you, Potter. Others,” he motioned towards the other assembled Captains, “Have not been quite so successful in their Liberations. You have broken the record - you are an exemplary Captain.”
He paused here, as though to let that sink in, then motioned towards Harry. “Deliver your report now, Captain Potter.”
Harry, admittedly, had been surprised by the compliment - but he knew full well it was a part of Krone’s continuing protection of him. Reg wasn’t here just for decorum - he would, no doubt, bring up the question of the pantry stores that Harry had failed to capture. It hadn’t been the first time, of course. Harry’s determination to rescue every prisoner very often resulted in their cover being blown early, and failure to capture stores.
Reg; the General of Stores, was a wiry, ill tempered redhead and a very Anti-Magic Muggle. As far as he was concerned, every Wizard was the same as the others, which translated simply: Harry was as bad, in his eyes, as Voldemort himself. Harry, having grown up around such Muggles, had learnt very early on just how dangerous that could be. It worried him, now. Reg could do some serious damage to him, if he did not behave perfectly, and considering how easily he could be wound up, there wasn’t much challenge in that.
Still, he was expected to deliver his report - and so that was what he began to do.
“The house was exactly where the plans said it would be. There was no discrepancy in the Intelligence we received, and the map was perfect. Entering the premises was easy; typical wards, with the door locked normally. I posted a guard at the top of the stair, and descended, leading the team below. The prison wards were a little more trouble than I’d expected. I experienced two barriers in the prison chamber.”
“Two?” That was Reg - his voice smooth and mocking. “Why would there be two wards?”
Harry did not dare to turn towards him, and actively engage in the bait he’d laid down. He spoke to Krone, as though he’d been meaning to say it anyway. “I believe the second ward was designed to catch out anyone who got through the first ward. There was…a prisoner being held in that building of particular interest to me - and therefore of particular interest to the Death Eater, too.”
“A personal acquaintance?” Reg again.
This time, Harry did not answer. He moved on. “Having taken down both wards, we advanced on, freeing the prisoners in the first five chambers. A man in the main chamber helped to successfully wake the rest of the prisoners, and keep them quiet. I progressed to the end of the corridor, and located a hidden chamber, which contained one final prisoner.”
“Your friend,” Reg pressed.
“My friend,” Harry hissed, narrowing his eyes, but not averting his gaze from Krone. Out of corner of them, however, he saw the corner of Reg’s lips curl up.
“Chssini kissa,” Harry hissed, only loud enough for Jules, and the few members of his team closest to him to hear, before reigning himself in, and continuing. “We began the retreat in the normal way, with Julie Gatcher, my second, coming in behind the rest of the team, and those we rescued. She was to give me a signal when she was in running distance of me.”
“Upon reaching the perimeter of the building, and the exit, I heard a sound behind me; a loud crash. It woke up the household. The team then ran across the lawn to the manger, and I waited for Gatcher’s signal.”
This was Jules’ cue. She lifted her chin and stepped ever so slightly forwards to make herself known. “Commander Gatcher,” she announced, before continuing where Harry had left off. “The disturbance was caused by Verde Knorstrum,” she motioned towards said man; who at least didn’t flinch when he was mentioned. “He tried to lift one of the food dishes, but it burnt his hands and he dropped it. Show them your hands, Verde.”
Verde lifted his hands, showing the red marks that were the reminder of the mistake he’d made.
“You could have gotten someone killed, Knorstrum,” Krone snapped, glancing in his direction. The subject of food, obviously, was wearing him thin.
“At least,” came the annoyingly slimy voice, from said man, “Knorstrum tried to take something.”
“With all due respect, Sir,” Harry interrupted, turning his gaze furiously towards Reg. “Lifting food, or anything else from the house of a Wizard is dangerous business at the best of times. I’ve lost valuable men from touching cursed objects.”
Reg narrowed his eyes, now he had Harry’s attention, his whole body seeming to double in size as he readied himself. “With all due respect, Captain,” Reg snapped, “Every one of us would be dead without the chances taken by a few.”
“If you expect me to jeopardize a rescue operation for a handful of crumbs, you are sorely mistaken, Sir.”
“And if you expect to be kept alive by the glory of rescuing more half-starved servants and whores, then you are mistaken.”
Harry opened his mouth to reply again - but a glare from Krone, and Jules’ stabbing elbow forced him to close his mouth.
“I expect to see something more productive out of these escapades of yours,” Reg hissed, standing up and leveling his glare on Harry. “I know that your kind are particularly useless when it comes to actually committing physical labor. If that doesn’t change, Captain Potter, we’ll simply have to do something about it.”
Harry didn’t react until some time later, when he was in a nice, dark corner of the underground caves. He exploded, venting his fury to Jules, who was equally unhappy with Reg, though much more prudent in her silence.
“That damned Anti-Wizard prick! What the hell does he know?!”
“Keep your voice, down, Harry,” Jules encouraged. Harry turned his gaze back to her, narrowed his eyes briefly, but then relaxed again. He wasn’t angry at her; this much he knew.
“Just relax…you’ve had a trying night…” she whispered, glancing warily down the hall. Harry knew that she would be venting her own spleen, if she wasn’t so worried of Reg’s spies and underlings hanging around.
“I try to save lives, you know…” Harry murmured, lifting his head warily to look at Jules. He sighed and lifted his hand up, rubbing at his eyebrow, which ended up looking thoroughly bristled and untidy by the time he was done.
Jules licked her thumb and smoothed it back down, looking into Harry’s eyes seriously as she did so. “You have other things to worry about right now, Harry. You have to go and see that girl we rescued - your friend, remember?”
Harry nodded, turning to look away from the wall, and down the corridor. “They’ve driven her mad, Jules. Did you hear what she said her name was?”
“She called herself ‘Harry’,” Jules replied, as soothingly as she could, “But she sounded so sad, and apologetic. Couldn’t she just be Confounded?”
Harry lifted his eyes up towards the ceiling. “Even if that is the case, it still needs a team of qualified Mediwizards to work on her - and even then, the chances of recovery are pretty slim.”
Thank you for reading. There'll be more later! Hope this next bit lived up to your expectations!