Greater Than, Lesser Be / Part Three, B
Greater Than, Lesser Be
Part Three, B
Previously...
**
The next day, Emily, Edith’s daughter, brought Harry his morning tea and toast, as well as a copy of the Daily Prophet. She did this very morning when Harry worked at Cloak & Dagger, without Harry asking. He was sure that Emily thought he was far too skinny.
Harry murmured his thanks, engrossed in reading his correspondence and reports. Remus and Camilla were meeting the Department of Magical Games and Sports next Tuesday about the Quidditch World Cup. Harry wondered if he should CC: a copy of the report when it was done and over with to Hassan Mostafa.
Harry stirred his tea and reached for the cup, holding it to his mouth. He took a sip, another and reached for the Daily Prophet, his eyes flickering at the headline as he did so.
Tea sprayed everywhere.
“REMUS!” Harry shouted in surprise and shock, toppling his tea onto his desk. He muttered a cleaning spell, removing the tea stains from his work, and stood, moving towards the door of his office with the paper clutched in his hand, as he continued shouting. “REMUS!”
He strode past Emily, who was on her feet and worrying her cardigan as she watched Harry stride past. “Mr. Houdini, sir?”
Harry ignored her, passing the offices of his employees, ignoring their stares as they all poked their heads out and asked if everything was fine; finally reaching Remus’s office-on the other side of the hall-Harry pushed the door open and threw the Prophet on the werewolf’s desk.
Remus glanced down.
Sirius Black escapes Azkaban Prison! The headline screamed. Dementors sent to Hogwarts for pre-Hogwarts protection. Prime Minister Fudge requests Harry Potter come to the Ministry for Ministerial protection from Black.
The lycanthrope looked back up at Harry, who stood firm and tall in front of his Vice President’s desk.
“Harry…?”
“Call Piers and the rest of the seven,” instructed Harry. “I want them in the boardroom in twenty minutes. We’re moving up the Horcrux schedule. If Sirius is out then we need to start moving on gathering the ring and locket.”
Remus nodded and watched as Harry left the office, tense and irritable. While they were expecting Sirius’s escape this summer, having Fudge campaign for Harry’s ‘protection’ stank like Dumbledore. Cloak & Dagger needed to start collecting the Horcruxes before Dumbledore caught on to what Remus and Harry were up to, especially as Remus would not be offered the Defence position.
Harry was waiting in the boardroom as everyone piled in; Remus, Jonathan and Yui were some of the first, while Sebastian and Edith made the tail end. As everyone sat, Harry held up the front page of the Prophet.
“Sirius has escaped. We know he’s innocent, so we’re going to have to keep the Ministry off him as much as we can and help him out from behind the scenes. Remus, that will be your job. I know it’s a lot to ask of you on top of your meetings with the Ministry, but you’re the only one he’ll talk to you.
“Piers,” Harry turned to the man, “Gather the Joe’s. Even if Jonathan and Justine’s communication system isn’t working perfectly, I need them out tonight. We’re going to Little Hangleton and retrieving the ring.”
Piers nodded, wrote something down on his notepad, and then began scribbling more. Harry assumed he was thinking of equipment and who would be on the team tonight.
“Justine, Jonathan-I’d hate to ask it of you, but that communication system needs its kinks worked out,” continued Harry, turning to face the two, who sat next to each other. “What’s the ETA on it?”
The two looked at each other, flipped through their notes and sighed. “It’s all dependent on the magical levels in a witch or wizard. Unless we can negate it completely in the unit, we’re at a bit of a loss at the moment. We have a few ideas, but,” Jonathan shrugged. “At this point, maybe another two months. Maybe.”
Harry frowned, thinking. “It has to be done by Christmas this year. Make it work.”
Justine and Jonathan nodded, making a note of their deadline.
“Edith, Sebastian, how’s the advanced Wolfsbane coming along?” asked Harry, leaning forward and resting his hands on the table now.
“Fine,” answered Sebastian. “We’ve already had a few wolves come back showing interest in testing it out. We bought that house you were looking at ages ago, Harry, so they have a secure place to live during the testing. We begin at the start of September.”
Harry nodded, then turned to Yui.
She beat him to his question. “The firearms are good to go, and I think I can help Jonathan and Justine in the communicators, Harry. I might see it from another angle they haven’t looked at. Edith and Sebastian supply the firearms with the magically charged potions and spells in the bullets, so I’m done my project.”
“Good,” answered Harry, nodding. The finally turned to Camilla. “Can you take over the Ministry contacts and meetings? Remus might not make it to all of them.”
“Easily done,” agreed the single mother. “I’m sure they’ll have the TriWizard meetings soon too, so I’ll handle those. We’ve already heard some beginnings of negotiations on the Chatter system.”
Harry smiled, pleased. “Good. Well then, Piers? Let’s go see the Joe’s. We’re going to start bringing down a Dark Lord tonight.”
**
Little Hangleton. August, 1993.
It was the middle of the night when Harry, Piers, Remus and several GI Joe’s arrived in Little Hangleton, their heavy-duty jeeps rumbling to a stop at the foot of the hill where the graveyard was located.
They preferred the travel to Little Hangleton by non-magical means to not attract the Ministry and Dumbledore’s notice, especially as Remus was almost “persona non grata” at the Ministry of Magic. His position and the revenue Cloak & Dagger created for the Ministry kept them civil to the lycanthrope.
Harry sat with Piers and Remus, and Quentin Smith. They went over the plans and the protections Harry thought they would find on the house. Since he never learnt from Dumbledore what there was, he assumed the worst and went from there.
However, the Joe’s and Harry were going to be a bit different in their retrieval.
The men stepped out of the jeep and surveyed the land. The graves and tombstones cast long shadows in the moonlight, creeping down the hill and splaying strange shapes along the grass. The large Riddle estate, located opposite the graveyard, was prominent and overshadowed the small town of Little Hangleton at the bottom of the hill. The row of seven jeeps driving through the small town had caused several inhabitants to box up with windows and keep their curiosity in check. After all, the town suffered from several strange phenomena over the years.
Harry held back a shiver. He could still remember the feeling of the knife digging into his shoulder as Pettigrew gathered the blood for Voldemort’s ritual. The fear he felt, thinking please, let it have drowned, as the cauldron bubbled away; the horror at seeing his parents’ murderer for the first time in a decade…
Remus’s hand clapped down on his shoulder and he jumped, the Elder wand out at the ready.
“Steady, Harry,” murmured Remus, his amber eyes showing his concern. “It’ll all be over soon.”
Harry took a deep breath and nodded. Piers and Quentin pretended not to see, but both, having come from military backgrounds, could easily tell that the graveyard held some special meaning to Harry.
“Is this the place that we’ve been training on back at Cloak?” asked one of the Joe’s, a sandy-haired, scruffy looking man in his thirties, as he glanced around. Wearing similar armour to the rest of the team, the man was nearly indistinguishable from those around him, except for his hair colour.
“It is,” agreed Harry, his voice carrying in the still of the night. To their right, near the wooded area behind the graveyard at the slope of the hill, a lone owl hooted. “While you’ll still be participating in your drills for that, we’re actually heading into the woods.”
The team assembled into their standard roles; Harry and Remus led the way with Piers and Quentin flanking them on either side-the rest of the Joe’s followed in rows of three, in a v-shape. Each Joe carried whatever Harry thought was necessary: rope, pickaxe, hammer, and in one or two cases, a non-magical chainsaw.
As they eased around a worn, dirt path at the base of the graveyard and hill, they entered the woods. All sounds ceased and the branches overhead drew tightly together, blocking out much of the natural moonlight. The Joe’s with lights lit them and held them on top of their firearms, wrist-over-wrist, as trained.
Splotches of light illuminated broken trees and brambles, and snapped in the direction of strange rustling and noises.
“Do you know where you’re going?” Quentin finally asked, whispering.
Harry nodded, speaking at normal volume. “Oh yes. And there’s no need to whisper. There hasn’t been anyone living around here in about fifty years.”
Curious now, the rest of the Joe’s followed Harry cautiously along the path until the boss of Cloak & Dagger veered off. Remus followed, pushing a low-hanging branch out of the way and Piers saw a hidden trail, overrun with vines and creeping moss and bushes.
After a few tense moments of being packed in between dense foliage, the Joe’s arrived at their location, startled and hesitant. There was a single ramshackle cottage, with parts missing in the roof and its porch collapsing in on itself in the middle of a small clearing. Branches from nearby trees were reaching over the roof and beginning to work their way into the holes left behind from missing roof tiles.
“Um, boss?” asked a Joe, hesitantly. “Why does it feel like I shouldn’t be here? What kind of magic is that?”
“It’s a modified Muggle-repelling ward,” answered Harry evenly, frowning as he surveyed the cottage. He moved closer slowly, unaware that his Joe’s flanked him and spread out, each taking a defensive position in case Harry tripped a ward; firearms and wands were out in both hands, wrist-over-wrist.
As Harry reached the porch, but did not step onto it, he saw the snake nailed above the door. Remus stood beside him, with Piers and Quentin a little further back.
“It’s in there,” said Harry softly. “Can you feel its lure?”
“The Horcrux?” queried Remus, surprised. “No.”
Harry frowned. He wasn’t talking about the Horcrux-although he could feel something off about the cottage. He was talking about the other part of him that he could feel was missing: the Resurrection Stone.
While he hardly carried it around on missions, finding no use in calling up his dead parents, godfather and Remus Lupin, Harry kept his invisibility cloak and wand on him at all times for emergencies. Unfortunately, he left the Resurrection Stone behind in his original universe with his shadowy Middle Eastern contact.
Idly, Harry wondered if Dumbledore had the Elder wand in this dimension and if the young Harry Potter had his father’s cloak. Two Elder wands and Masters of Death would be strange-but with the lure of the Stone calling to Harry, the time traveller was assured that he was still the true Master of Death, despite the duplicates in this universe being in others’ hands.
Unfortunately, Harry never got around to telling Remus about owning the Elder wand. Most wizards did not believe in the Deathly Hallows, and to have the Boy-Who-Lived also the Master of Death would be an additional burden and title Harry would have to endure. He didn’t plan on the titles, but he sure as hell planned to use it to the best of his abilities.
Fighting the lure from the Stone as best as he could, Harry began to walk around the dilapidated cottage, gathering an idea as he did so. Finally, after several walks around the building, Harry nodded and motioned Piers and Quentin over to him.
“I’ve got an idea…” he began.
As dusk began to peek through the dense leaves and branches, Harry and the Joe’s were finally ready.
While he was certain that Voldemort would ensure that magicals could not enter the cottage, he probably did not think about non-magicals. With the team doing manual labour to get the work done, Harry deliberated about his idea.
On every side of the old cottage, the Joe’s stood in groups of four, a long length of rope on the ground next to them and attached to the support beams and rotted wood of the walls.
Harry and Remus stood on opposite sides, with Piers and Quentin on the other sides. Harry raised his hand and shouted the order. “Heave!”
The Joe’s yanked the rope on all sides as hard as they could. Fifty years of nature caused the wooden structure to fall and break apart easily. The wood smacked the dirt ground, sending up clouds and making a loud racket. No one from the town would hear though.
Harry waved a hand in front of his face to move the dirt cloud. He coughed a bit. “Remus? Piers? Quentin?”
“Here and fine,” called Remus’s hoarse voice from the opposite side of the cloud, distant and choked.
“I’m fine,” shouted back Quentin.
“Me too,” agreed Piers, both men from opposite sides.
“Anyone hurt?” asked Harry, as the cloud began to disperse.
There were no noises of pain and the Joe’s all replied with affirmatives; slowly the cloud disappeared and Harry saw the remnants of the Gaunt family home lying like matchsticks piled on top of one another. Somewhere under that were the floorboards; possibly intact and maybe not.
The Joe’s slowly began inching towards the remains. Harry joined them, taking a pair of heavy-duty work gloves from one of the men as they inched closer. Thanking him quietly, Harry observed the building. He couldn’t hear any hissing, indicating that Voldemort didn’t use live snakes as his protection-that meant it was something deadlier.
“Right, well, let’s start clearing these and be careful about it!” instructed Harry, ready to join in with the labour.
Halfway through the morning, as the sun climbed higher and the densely wooded area began to heat up and trap the day’s warmth, the Joe’s had removed the majority of the wooden beams that hid the floorboards.
Some floorboards were dented and in places where the support beams had punctured through the rotten wood; other places were already damaged from animals. Natural rot also ate away parts of the floorboards, but there was an area that remained untouched from the natural elements.
Harry shook his head. Sadly, Voldemort was, if anything, completely predictable. The floor gleamed as if it was just polished, free of dirt, wood chips and damage.
“Is that where we want to dig?” asked Quentin, frowning in concentration as his eyes darted about, thinking of the easiest way to complete their task.
Harry nodded. He turned to address the group. “Before we begin, does anyone feel a pull, or a lure towards that spot?”
Two Joe’s put their hands up, hesitantly. Harry smiled easily at them.
“No worries, boy-you’ll just have to sit this one out. How about you go back to the jeep and bring us the iron container?”
The two Joe’s nodded and began back through the dense path to the jeeps by the graveyard.
Harry surveyed the men around him. “This is a word of advice and warning for all of you, as well-if you begin to feel like you’re attracted to what’s under the floorboards; begin moving back towards the jeep. We’ll catch up with you afterward.”
The men nodded in understanding and Harry motioned for Quentin to begin. The head of the Joe’s began handing out the axes, while the two chainsaws’ cords were pulled and they began rumbling.
The men slowly made work of the remaining floorboards, cutting the area away from the undamaged area. When they finally the floorboard alone, barely two feet by two, Harry motioned for everyone to stand back. He used a shovel and began digging around the floorboards, which had collapsed onto the ground. Voldemort had placed his treasure under the floorboards, in a small hole. Harry was digging towards that hole, subverting the protections Voldemort put on the floorboards.
Harry knew that there would be more protections, but he was willing to take that risk.
The Joe’s stood at the ready, with Remus and Piers on either side of Harry as his hole and dirt mound grew; finally, a hint of gold peeked through the loose dirt. The earth fell away and Harry was through: a small, golden chest stood upright in the hole.
“Let’s get the clamps out!” shouted Harry as the men behind him scrambled to do as he said.
Moments later, a rope with a lasso and strange metal circles around the lasso part, was thrust into Harry’s hands. Nodding in satisfaction, Harry felt the rope and pondered for a few moments before throwing the rope into the hole, circling the chest.
Yui’s brilliance in robotics demonstrated itself as the small metal circles, with weights on the bottom to have them stand up instead of lie down, began to slowly roll towards the chest. Behind Harry, Quentin was using a monitor to direct the small circles.
When the rope was taut, the circles began inching their way up the slope of the hole Harry made, inching the chest out. It was a slow-going process, time consuming and by the end of the hour, Harry was itching to go for the chest.
A few of the men also had to excuse themselves as the chest came into view; they turned and walked back to the jeeps, with one or two remaining as far away as they could while still providing cover.
When the chest was pulled out of the hole in its entirety, Harry swallowed heavily. He could feel the Stone calling to him, his owner, but he also felt Voldemort’s presence in the ring.
The two original men who left near the beginning of the excavation had returned while Quentin was pulling the chest out. They set the iron container on the ground and then returned to the jeeps.
The iron container was tipped sideways, the top opening level with the ground and Quentin continued to direct the rope and the chest into the container, which took another hour. When it was finally in, Remus strode forward and pulled the rope off, then shut the iron lid.
Immediately, everyone felt the effects from the chest and what was it in lift.
“Great job!” cheered Harry, picking up the container and cradling it in his arms. “You guys did a great job!”
Harry wouldn’t tell the Joe’s what they just contained-Remus and Piers knew that Quentin knew better than to ask. Once the entire ordeal was over, and if Harry survived, he might tell everyone. But until then, his well-trained Joe’s knew to ask no questions and do as they were told. They were briefed about possible dangers ahead of time and would slowly be fed the information they needed before the showdown at the graveyard.
Until then, though, thought Harry as he absently pet the container and smiled, he would continue to strike silent blows against Voldemort. Everything was going according to plan.
**
Next: Part Four
Part Three, B
Previously...
**
The next day, Emily, Edith’s daughter, brought Harry his morning tea and toast, as well as a copy of the Daily Prophet. She did this very morning when Harry worked at Cloak & Dagger, without Harry asking. He was sure that Emily thought he was far too skinny.
Harry murmured his thanks, engrossed in reading his correspondence and reports. Remus and Camilla were meeting the Department of Magical Games and Sports next Tuesday about the Quidditch World Cup. Harry wondered if he should CC: a copy of the report when it was done and over with to Hassan Mostafa.
Harry stirred his tea and reached for the cup, holding it to his mouth. He took a sip, another and reached for the Daily Prophet, his eyes flickering at the headline as he did so.
Tea sprayed everywhere.
“REMUS!” Harry shouted in surprise and shock, toppling his tea onto his desk. He muttered a cleaning spell, removing the tea stains from his work, and stood, moving towards the door of his office with the paper clutched in his hand, as he continued shouting. “REMUS!”
He strode past Emily, who was on her feet and worrying her cardigan as she watched Harry stride past. “Mr. Houdini, sir?”
Harry ignored her, passing the offices of his employees, ignoring their stares as they all poked their heads out and asked if everything was fine; finally reaching Remus’s office-on the other side of the hall-Harry pushed the door open and threw the Prophet on the werewolf’s desk.
Remus glanced down.
Sirius Black escapes Azkaban Prison! The headline screamed. Dementors sent to Hogwarts for pre-Hogwarts protection. Prime Minister Fudge requests Harry Potter come to the Ministry for Ministerial protection from Black.
The lycanthrope looked back up at Harry, who stood firm and tall in front of his Vice President’s desk.
“Harry…?”
“Call Piers and the rest of the seven,” instructed Harry. “I want them in the boardroom in twenty minutes. We’re moving up the Horcrux schedule. If Sirius is out then we need to start moving on gathering the ring and locket.”
Remus nodded and watched as Harry left the office, tense and irritable. While they were expecting Sirius’s escape this summer, having Fudge campaign for Harry’s ‘protection’ stank like Dumbledore. Cloak & Dagger needed to start collecting the Horcruxes before Dumbledore caught on to what Remus and Harry were up to, especially as Remus would not be offered the Defence position.
Harry was waiting in the boardroom as everyone piled in; Remus, Jonathan and Yui were some of the first, while Sebastian and Edith made the tail end. As everyone sat, Harry held up the front page of the Prophet.
“Sirius has escaped. We know he’s innocent, so we’re going to have to keep the Ministry off him as much as we can and help him out from behind the scenes. Remus, that will be your job. I know it’s a lot to ask of you on top of your meetings with the Ministry, but you’re the only one he’ll talk to you.
“Piers,” Harry turned to the man, “Gather the Joe’s. Even if Jonathan and Justine’s communication system isn’t working perfectly, I need them out tonight. We’re going to Little Hangleton and retrieving the ring.”
Piers nodded, wrote something down on his notepad, and then began scribbling more. Harry assumed he was thinking of equipment and who would be on the team tonight.
“Justine, Jonathan-I’d hate to ask it of you, but that communication system needs its kinks worked out,” continued Harry, turning to face the two, who sat next to each other. “What’s the ETA on it?”
The two looked at each other, flipped through their notes and sighed. “It’s all dependent on the magical levels in a witch or wizard. Unless we can negate it completely in the unit, we’re at a bit of a loss at the moment. We have a few ideas, but,” Jonathan shrugged. “At this point, maybe another two months. Maybe.”
Harry frowned, thinking. “It has to be done by Christmas this year. Make it work.”
Justine and Jonathan nodded, making a note of their deadline.
“Edith, Sebastian, how’s the advanced Wolfsbane coming along?” asked Harry, leaning forward and resting his hands on the table now.
“Fine,” answered Sebastian. “We’ve already had a few wolves come back showing interest in testing it out. We bought that house you were looking at ages ago, Harry, so they have a secure place to live during the testing. We begin at the start of September.”
Harry nodded, then turned to Yui.
She beat him to his question. “The firearms are good to go, and I think I can help Jonathan and Justine in the communicators, Harry. I might see it from another angle they haven’t looked at. Edith and Sebastian supply the firearms with the magically charged potions and spells in the bullets, so I’m done my project.”
“Good,” answered Harry, nodding. The finally turned to Camilla. “Can you take over the Ministry contacts and meetings? Remus might not make it to all of them.”
“Easily done,” agreed the single mother. “I’m sure they’ll have the TriWizard meetings soon too, so I’ll handle those. We’ve already heard some beginnings of negotiations on the Chatter system.”
Harry smiled, pleased. “Good. Well then, Piers? Let’s go see the Joe’s. We’re going to start bringing down a Dark Lord tonight.”
**
Little Hangleton. August, 1993.
It was the middle of the night when Harry, Piers, Remus and several GI Joe’s arrived in Little Hangleton, their heavy-duty jeeps rumbling to a stop at the foot of the hill where the graveyard was located.
They preferred the travel to Little Hangleton by non-magical means to not attract the Ministry and Dumbledore’s notice, especially as Remus was almost “persona non grata” at the Ministry of Magic. His position and the revenue Cloak & Dagger created for the Ministry kept them civil to the lycanthrope.
Harry sat with Piers and Remus, and Quentin Smith. They went over the plans and the protections Harry thought they would find on the house. Since he never learnt from Dumbledore what there was, he assumed the worst and went from there.
However, the Joe’s and Harry were going to be a bit different in their retrieval.
The men stepped out of the jeep and surveyed the land. The graves and tombstones cast long shadows in the moonlight, creeping down the hill and splaying strange shapes along the grass. The large Riddle estate, located opposite the graveyard, was prominent and overshadowed the small town of Little Hangleton at the bottom of the hill. The row of seven jeeps driving through the small town had caused several inhabitants to box up with windows and keep their curiosity in check. After all, the town suffered from several strange phenomena over the years.
Harry held back a shiver. He could still remember the feeling of the knife digging into his shoulder as Pettigrew gathered the blood for Voldemort’s ritual. The fear he felt, thinking please, let it have drowned, as the cauldron bubbled away; the horror at seeing his parents’ murderer for the first time in a decade…
Remus’s hand clapped down on his shoulder and he jumped, the Elder wand out at the ready.
“Steady, Harry,” murmured Remus, his amber eyes showing his concern. “It’ll all be over soon.”
Harry took a deep breath and nodded. Piers and Quentin pretended not to see, but both, having come from military backgrounds, could easily tell that the graveyard held some special meaning to Harry.
“Is this the place that we’ve been training on back at Cloak?” asked one of the Joe’s, a sandy-haired, scruffy looking man in his thirties, as he glanced around. Wearing similar armour to the rest of the team, the man was nearly indistinguishable from those around him, except for his hair colour.
“It is,” agreed Harry, his voice carrying in the still of the night. To their right, near the wooded area behind the graveyard at the slope of the hill, a lone owl hooted. “While you’ll still be participating in your drills for that, we’re actually heading into the woods.”
The team assembled into their standard roles; Harry and Remus led the way with Piers and Quentin flanking them on either side-the rest of the Joe’s followed in rows of three, in a v-shape. Each Joe carried whatever Harry thought was necessary: rope, pickaxe, hammer, and in one or two cases, a non-magical chainsaw.
As they eased around a worn, dirt path at the base of the graveyard and hill, they entered the woods. All sounds ceased and the branches overhead drew tightly together, blocking out much of the natural moonlight. The Joe’s with lights lit them and held them on top of their firearms, wrist-over-wrist, as trained.
Splotches of light illuminated broken trees and brambles, and snapped in the direction of strange rustling and noises.
“Do you know where you’re going?” Quentin finally asked, whispering.
Harry nodded, speaking at normal volume. “Oh yes. And there’s no need to whisper. There hasn’t been anyone living around here in about fifty years.”
Curious now, the rest of the Joe’s followed Harry cautiously along the path until the boss of Cloak & Dagger veered off. Remus followed, pushing a low-hanging branch out of the way and Piers saw a hidden trail, overrun with vines and creeping moss and bushes.
After a few tense moments of being packed in between dense foliage, the Joe’s arrived at their location, startled and hesitant. There was a single ramshackle cottage, with parts missing in the roof and its porch collapsing in on itself in the middle of a small clearing. Branches from nearby trees were reaching over the roof and beginning to work their way into the holes left behind from missing roof tiles.
“Um, boss?” asked a Joe, hesitantly. “Why does it feel like I shouldn’t be here? What kind of magic is that?”
“It’s a modified Muggle-repelling ward,” answered Harry evenly, frowning as he surveyed the cottage. He moved closer slowly, unaware that his Joe’s flanked him and spread out, each taking a defensive position in case Harry tripped a ward; firearms and wands were out in both hands, wrist-over-wrist.
As Harry reached the porch, but did not step onto it, he saw the snake nailed above the door. Remus stood beside him, with Piers and Quentin a little further back.
“It’s in there,” said Harry softly. “Can you feel its lure?”
“The Horcrux?” queried Remus, surprised. “No.”
Harry frowned. He wasn’t talking about the Horcrux-although he could feel something off about the cottage. He was talking about the other part of him that he could feel was missing: the Resurrection Stone.
While he hardly carried it around on missions, finding no use in calling up his dead parents, godfather and Remus Lupin, Harry kept his invisibility cloak and wand on him at all times for emergencies. Unfortunately, he left the Resurrection Stone behind in his original universe with his shadowy Middle Eastern contact.
Idly, Harry wondered if Dumbledore had the Elder wand in this dimension and if the young Harry Potter had his father’s cloak. Two Elder wands and Masters of Death would be strange-but with the lure of the Stone calling to Harry, the time traveller was assured that he was still the true Master of Death, despite the duplicates in this universe being in others’ hands.
Unfortunately, Harry never got around to telling Remus about owning the Elder wand. Most wizards did not believe in the Deathly Hallows, and to have the Boy-Who-Lived also the Master of Death would be an additional burden and title Harry would have to endure. He didn’t plan on the titles, but he sure as hell planned to use it to the best of his abilities.
Fighting the lure from the Stone as best as he could, Harry began to walk around the dilapidated cottage, gathering an idea as he did so. Finally, after several walks around the building, Harry nodded and motioned Piers and Quentin over to him.
“I’ve got an idea…” he began.
As dusk began to peek through the dense leaves and branches, Harry and the Joe’s were finally ready.
While he was certain that Voldemort would ensure that magicals could not enter the cottage, he probably did not think about non-magicals. With the team doing manual labour to get the work done, Harry deliberated about his idea.
On every side of the old cottage, the Joe’s stood in groups of four, a long length of rope on the ground next to them and attached to the support beams and rotted wood of the walls.
Harry and Remus stood on opposite sides, with Piers and Quentin on the other sides. Harry raised his hand and shouted the order. “Heave!”
The Joe’s yanked the rope on all sides as hard as they could. Fifty years of nature caused the wooden structure to fall and break apart easily. The wood smacked the dirt ground, sending up clouds and making a loud racket. No one from the town would hear though.
Harry waved a hand in front of his face to move the dirt cloud. He coughed a bit. “Remus? Piers? Quentin?”
“Here and fine,” called Remus’s hoarse voice from the opposite side of the cloud, distant and choked.
“I’m fine,” shouted back Quentin.
“Me too,” agreed Piers, both men from opposite sides.
“Anyone hurt?” asked Harry, as the cloud began to disperse.
There were no noises of pain and the Joe’s all replied with affirmatives; slowly the cloud disappeared and Harry saw the remnants of the Gaunt family home lying like matchsticks piled on top of one another. Somewhere under that were the floorboards; possibly intact and maybe not.
The Joe’s slowly began inching towards the remains. Harry joined them, taking a pair of heavy-duty work gloves from one of the men as they inched closer. Thanking him quietly, Harry observed the building. He couldn’t hear any hissing, indicating that Voldemort didn’t use live snakes as his protection-that meant it was something deadlier.
“Right, well, let’s start clearing these and be careful about it!” instructed Harry, ready to join in with the labour.
Halfway through the morning, as the sun climbed higher and the densely wooded area began to heat up and trap the day’s warmth, the Joe’s had removed the majority of the wooden beams that hid the floorboards.
Some floorboards were dented and in places where the support beams had punctured through the rotten wood; other places were already damaged from animals. Natural rot also ate away parts of the floorboards, but there was an area that remained untouched from the natural elements.
Harry shook his head. Sadly, Voldemort was, if anything, completely predictable. The floor gleamed as if it was just polished, free of dirt, wood chips and damage.
“Is that where we want to dig?” asked Quentin, frowning in concentration as his eyes darted about, thinking of the easiest way to complete their task.
Harry nodded. He turned to address the group. “Before we begin, does anyone feel a pull, or a lure towards that spot?”
Two Joe’s put their hands up, hesitantly. Harry smiled easily at them.
“No worries, boy-you’ll just have to sit this one out. How about you go back to the jeep and bring us the iron container?”
The two Joe’s nodded and began back through the dense path to the jeeps by the graveyard.
Harry surveyed the men around him. “This is a word of advice and warning for all of you, as well-if you begin to feel like you’re attracted to what’s under the floorboards; begin moving back towards the jeep. We’ll catch up with you afterward.”
The men nodded in understanding and Harry motioned for Quentin to begin. The head of the Joe’s began handing out the axes, while the two chainsaws’ cords were pulled and they began rumbling.
The men slowly made work of the remaining floorboards, cutting the area away from the undamaged area. When they finally the floorboard alone, barely two feet by two, Harry motioned for everyone to stand back. He used a shovel and began digging around the floorboards, which had collapsed onto the ground. Voldemort had placed his treasure under the floorboards, in a small hole. Harry was digging towards that hole, subverting the protections Voldemort put on the floorboards.
Harry knew that there would be more protections, but he was willing to take that risk.
The Joe’s stood at the ready, with Remus and Piers on either side of Harry as his hole and dirt mound grew; finally, a hint of gold peeked through the loose dirt. The earth fell away and Harry was through: a small, golden chest stood upright in the hole.
“Let’s get the clamps out!” shouted Harry as the men behind him scrambled to do as he said.
Moments later, a rope with a lasso and strange metal circles around the lasso part, was thrust into Harry’s hands. Nodding in satisfaction, Harry felt the rope and pondered for a few moments before throwing the rope into the hole, circling the chest.
Yui’s brilliance in robotics demonstrated itself as the small metal circles, with weights on the bottom to have them stand up instead of lie down, began to slowly roll towards the chest. Behind Harry, Quentin was using a monitor to direct the small circles.
When the rope was taut, the circles began inching their way up the slope of the hole Harry made, inching the chest out. It was a slow-going process, time consuming and by the end of the hour, Harry was itching to go for the chest.
A few of the men also had to excuse themselves as the chest came into view; they turned and walked back to the jeeps, with one or two remaining as far away as they could while still providing cover.
When the chest was pulled out of the hole in its entirety, Harry swallowed heavily. He could feel the Stone calling to him, his owner, but he also felt Voldemort’s presence in the ring.
The two original men who left near the beginning of the excavation had returned while Quentin was pulling the chest out. They set the iron container on the ground and then returned to the jeeps.
The iron container was tipped sideways, the top opening level with the ground and Quentin continued to direct the rope and the chest into the container, which took another hour. When it was finally in, Remus strode forward and pulled the rope off, then shut the iron lid.
Immediately, everyone felt the effects from the chest and what was it in lift.
“Great job!” cheered Harry, picking up the container and cradling it in his arms. “You guys did a great job!”
Harry wouldn’t tell the Joe’s what they just contained-Remus and Piers knew that Quentin knew better than to ask. Once the entire ordeal was over, and if Harry survived, he might tell everyone. But until then, his well-trained Joe’s knew to ask no questions and do as they were told. They were briefed about possible dangers ahead of time and would slowly be fed the information they needed before the showdown at the graveyard.
Until then, though, thought Harry as he absently pet the container and smiled, he would continue to strike silent blows against Voldemort. Everything was going according to plan.
**
Next: Part Four