I don't own Harry Potter or any Harry Potter related merchandise. Just so you know.
takes place during 5th year.
Guy Fawkes Day
aka. Harry Potter destroys Magical England
Harry Potter was near the breaking point. He watched Cedric die last term. Die! Killed on Voldemort's orders. And yet, no one believed him at all! The summer was horrible. Two dementors tried to kill him. Dumbledore defended him during the trial, but didn't even look at him once. Hermione was keeping her distance, and so was Ron. He didn't understand it. Worse yet, the Prophet started (yet another) slander campaign against him. The Ministry was sitting, doing nothing. And their professor, if you can call the fat toad that, just sent him to detention for stating that the dark Lord was indeed alive.
All these thoughts swirling around was noticeable bringing his magic to the surface, but Harry Potter just didn't care. He sat in detention, not even listening to the fat toad as she prattled on. Writing lines, sure he could do that. It was only when the quill he'd been given drew blood from the top of his hand, did he pause. The rage and coming to the surface. He was being punished.. tortured, and for what? So that Fudge and the magical sheeple can sleep at nights not worrying about everything he had been worring about. Maybe they would like a few nightmares like he was having. This. Would. Not. Stand.
The sound of a blood quill breaking was heard in the empty classroom.
"Hem hem. Mr. Potter. I fill fix this quill and you will write 'I will not lie' until I am satisfied. Do you understand?" Umbridge said.
Harry understood. Oh, how he understood. As he stood up, his magic came to the surface to shatter every window in the room. The boy got up and grabbed his bag, walking towards the door.
Trying to regain her composure after the display of accidental magic, Umbridge called out, "Where do you think you are going, Mr. Potter?"
"To file a complaint." He strode out and then raced as a stupefy lashed out from the room, barely missing him. By the time Dolores was out of the door, Harry was gone.
"I'm telling the truth, Headmaster. She used some kind of quill that made my hand bleed and then heal up, just for stating that Voldemort has returned." Harry pleaded with Dumbledore.
"Even if that is the case, Harry, I can not go against the ministry at this time. I am sorry." Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, looking very much like an old man of his years. "Try to carry through, Harry. It's for the greater good."
'That phrase again.' Harry thought. "Fine. I'll try."
'The greater good.' The boy left Dumbledore's office and headed to the owlery. 'It's for the greater good that Voldemort is destroyed, right? Is it for the greater good that a prejudice bitch of a toad 'teaches' no one how to prepare? Is it for the greater good that all my friends have abandoned me? Is it for the greater good that wizards, people who have almost god-like powers, instead of using them to help others, they kill and maim and prank while sticking their collective head under the sand like ostriches. I think I'll show them about the greater good.'
The first letter, he sent with Hedwig to Bill Weasly for information on wards. The other letter went to the magical trunk store in Diagon Alley for supplies and information. The last one went to Gringotts to transfer his funds to an offshore branch, detailing that the situation in England is growing too unstable. Harry may not be able to withdraw all his funds, but he could certainly move them around. There were things he had heard of, that - if they worked like he thought they would, then it would make the kernel of a plan that was already forming in his mind that much closer to fruition.
Until then, he would be a perfect little schoolboy. Never raising his hand or speaking out of turn. No reason to give the other side any more ammunition. Now, if he could only figure out who was the other side.
The information came two days later, and it took several months to get everything correct. Harry wasn't as clever as Hermione, but seeing as the only time he saw her was to teach the defense club - which he reluctantly agreed to, as a distraction, and to actually practice wand work. Even getting banned from quidditch didn't dishearten him. Besides, as fun as the game has been for him, Harry knew he would soon have to give it up anyways. For the greater good.
It was a happy Harry Potter that was practically skipping through the hallways of Hogwarts early on November fifth. Having first passed by the Slytherin dungeons and later, into the library where Hermione was studying according to the marauder's map.
"Harry? What are you doing here?" Hermione Granger asked. She would have expected Harry to not look so chipper after being banned from quidditch, but here he was, practically bursting.
"Oh, Hermione. Today's the day. I've never did anything like it before, you know. But with Dumbledore as an example, well." He turned to the girl and looked her in the eyes. "Tell me, Hermione. Do you know anything about the space expansion charms?"
The bushy-haired girl was confused. "A.. a little. They are NEWT level charms, you know."
"Great!" Harry exclaimed. "Do you know what happens when you stuff a trunk, whose inside has been expanded to room size, into a small bag, that had been charmed to just be big enough to fit the trunk?"
"I've never thought of that. No. What happens?"
"Absolutely nothing." Harry laughed, adding, "provided that the trunk is closed. But if it opens inside the bag - well, then... still nothing. Brilliant, huh?"
"What?" Hermione was confused.
"Nothing happens. Although, to use the muggle term, the pin is pulled on the grenade. You see, if then, someone then opens the bag, that is smaller than the opened trunk - then the two items are destroyed in a blast of chaos magic. Now the two items will make a decent sized explosion, based on the size and strength of the expansion charms. Maybe large enough to scorch a room. But if you stuff the bag with the trunk, into an even smaller sack, then the explosion is multiplied by the expansion charm of the smaller sack - not added to, multiplied. Then if you stuff the sack into an envelope - it becomes large enough to blow up a house."
"I still don't see where you're going with this, Harry." the confused witch said.
"Just bear with me, Hermione. I'll explain." Harry said. "Now, there are far easier ways of causing an explosion, but not an explosion of chaotic magic. Chaotic magic is unique in that it can collapse wards much easier than any other method. It's a pure disruptive force. Shields can't hold against it and any magical construct collapses. Most cursebreakers don't use that method, because what use is having all the wards collapsed in a crypt if the crypt and surrounding area is now a smoking crater? But they still use a small version - a tiny pouch inside a thimble-sized container, to detonate small wards. They call it a thimble-sack. A cursebreaker carries tons of them because if one won't collapse a ward, then the next one might. They never use too many at once, because a ward that has been collapsed by chaotic magic explosion can very very easily collapse the ward next to it. It's like trying to dislodge a boulder off a mountain without starting an avalanche."
Harry smiled. "That's an apt analogy. An avalanche. One small boulder rolling down a mountain, hitting another, causing it to fall which hits another and another, and so on. Replace the word boulder with the word 'ward', and you have what cursebreakers know as a ward cascade failure. They all know about them because you can count the cursebreakers that actually survived being near one on the fingers of a single hand - which two of the survivors now do not have. Either fingers and hands."
"I still don't understand." The witch said.
"See, Hermione, a letter containing say, a five-tier chaotic magic detonation is enough to bring down all the wards anywhere it's opened. Say, early in the morning, before anyone in Diagon Alley goes to work, a letter found its way to a certain goblin in Gringotts. Now the wizarding bank, being a wizarding bank, will have a enormous amount of wards and what not. As soon as the letter is opened, the opened spatially enhanced letter, sack, bag, trunk, and cabinet will explode - bringing down the wards in the entire bank. The explosion should be big enough to shred the entire Diagon Alley. Kaboom!" Harry emphasized with his hands.
Hermione was growing more and more terrified, but just kept listening.
"Then, what do you suppose will happen? The aurors will be called! After all, the wizarding world has been hit where it will hurt the most - in its pocketbook. Melted gold and dragon bits everywhere. All of them rooting around the rubble, staring at the dark mark floating in the sky - part of a delayed charm on the letter that went off as it was opened. A little rune work and it was easy. Suddenly, the offices of the Daily Prophet go up in a massive fireball as a timed warded letter activates itself. As they say on the playground: liar, liar, pants on.. well, you know the rest. And well, I believe all the slander they printed about me and others definitely counts. Now, more aurors are called out of bed. It's not time to go to work yet, but the night shift needs help. This is good, since they won't be there at the Ministry of Magic where another letter opens itself."
Hermione paled. Harry continued. "Yep, only Fudge and some administrators are there. Maybe even Percy Weasly. Huh, oh well. Now, the Ministry is probably seeped in wards. They also house the control crystal for the entire floo network of Great Britain. Not that smart to keep it in one location without any backups, but now all flue communication and travel is down everywhere. Also, Fudge is gone. That's a plus."
Hermione asked with an ashen face, "Harry, what are you saying. When.."
"Hush." Harry said suddenly. "I heard something."
He made a show of walking out of the library only to hear the sound of sounds of feet running away. Harry pulled out his map and activated it. "Ahh, excellent. I picked up Malfoy when I passed by the Slytherin dungeons. Now he is running - yes, right towards Umbridge. Yes, and now, the letter I hid in his robes that is charmed to go off right when.. they... meet. There."
Harry smiled at the two dots that suddenly faded away from the map. He deactivated it and folded it away. He shrugged. "Hmm, I thought I'd be more distraught over Malfoy's passing."
"Harry, when is all what you said supposed to happen?" Hermione asked meekly, trying not to think about the fate of Draco Malfoy.
"When? Oh let's see. Tempus." Harry looked at the floating time and dispelled it. It was 7:46 in the morning. "Ahh, well, Gringotts opens at 7am and most of the stores at 9am, so Diagon Alley should be destroyed in approximately, oh, forty minutes ago. Why would I bother to tell you any of this, Hermione, if there was a way you could stop it? Use your brains, oh hold on a minute. I almost forgot the timed 5-tier letters that the owls dropped off at the Malfoy's, the Crabbe's, the Goyle's, the Yaxley's, the Crouch's, the Parkingson's, the LeStrange's, the Nott's, McNair's, oh and I did send some to the Longbottom's and the Bones' households as well. Why? Because Susan's aunt is head of all the aurors and will be on the scene at Diagon Alley and old lady Longbottom is an overprotective hag who let Neville be dropped by his uncle from a great height just to activate his magic. Besides, it would look a little suspicious if only dark families got targeted by Moldy-Voldie. His mark will be flying over all those houses, Diagon Alley, and the Ministry by now."
Harry and Hermione watched as Severus Snape stalked past the library, clutching his arm. Harry smiled. "And now, the final movement in this symphony. The Dork Lardy will summon his remaining toadies to him and will probably be most upset that several of his loyal people who now, thanks to a few letters, have the same consistency as, well, chunky salsa. Why it is a safe bet to have the six-tier letter stuck in a tiny, almost unseen, magically expanded and sealed fold in Snape's robe to go off right in the presence of a crucio spell. It will even work if Professor Man-Bat isn't the target. And knowing how paranoid Old Man Riddle is, he's bound to have some wards that will amplify the explosion something fierce."
Hermione sat, pale with fear. Harry continued. "And there you go. One morning, everything that makes the wizarding world so horrible is taken care of in one fell swoop that will be conveniently blamed on Lord Walmart. I figured the wizarding world needed to have their own version of Guy Fawkes Day. It's like chess. Sometimes you play to preserve your pieces, but you rarely win. Other times, you send your forces en mass and leave the opponent's side in ruin. Probably a few good pawns, er.. people were hurt, but as Dumbledore might say, you can't make a 'greater good' omelet without breaking a few 'lesser good' eggs. And when compared with the greater good of the health and state of the entire wizarding England, what is a few lesser goods like families, lives, proof of innocence... a boy's childhood."
The frightened witch looked at Harry. "What.. what about me?"
The boy turned to look Hermione in the face. "You? You who abandoned me.."
"Dumbledore told us. He said.. "
Harry cut her off. "He said, 'blah, blah, greater good, blah, Harry's in a delicate state of mind right now, blah blah'. Right?"
Hermione could only nod. "He mentioned that there was a possibility of Vol.. Voldemort would possess you through the link you shared."
"Hmm, that's..." Harry bent over in pain, clutching his bleeding forehead. "Auggh!"
Then the pain receded almost immediately. Harry straightened up and wiped the blood on his robes. "Ahh, so much for Riddle. And look, it's still little old Harry Potter. The savior of the wizarding world."
"You've destroyed it." Hermione said quietly.
"Yes, but I saved it first. Well, my mother did actually. But now we're talking semantics. What were we speaking of before Voldemort exploded? Oh right, you." Harry looked at his former friend. "You. You. To you, nothing will happen. As long as you act like a trusted friend, you'll be fine. Why would I do anything to you? I've saved you from a troll and you repaid me with four and a half years of the best friendship I've had. Payment in full. You've broken it on Dumbledore's orders for the greater good. I completely understand. And maybe, sometime in the future, we can go back to being friends again. But for now, I'll see you around school, Miss Granger."
Harry, took hold of his bag and waved as he left the library. "It's still early on a Sunday. I'm going back to bed."
Hermione just sat there, crying over the broken friendship. If she listened closely, she could hear Harry almost singing, "Remember, remember, the fifth of November.."
A few minutes later, the witch raced through the mostly empty corridors of the school. Suddenly, before she reached the gargoyle that led to Dumbledore's office, Hermione's brain hit upon a thought. A horrible thought. She skidded to a halt, paled even further and stumbled into an empty broom closet, almost retching. Something Harry had said reverberated in her skull. Nothing would happen to her if she acted like a trusted friend. A trusted friend would not go off to Dumbledore to relay to him everything Harry had told her. In fact, Dumbledore is the only one left who could work against Harry. Would Harry really sacrifice her just to destroy the headmaster... for the greater good. Oh god! He knew about her tendency of looking up to authority figures. He knew she would race to the headmaster! Hermione checked all her pockets, but didn't find anything there. Then she remembered about Snape. Harry said he hid the letter in a fold almost too small to see. A letter could be anywhere on her. In her clothes, shoes - even her hair.
Hermione raced back to her dorm, changed out of her clothes. She was about to put on other clothes, when a thought struck her. Harry had snuck into both Draco's and Snape's private quarters. It would be simple with a broom, an invisibility cloak, and a couple of silencing charms to sneak into the girl's quarters and do whatever Harry wanted to her clothes. There could be letters on all of them. Hermione broke into a fellow student's trunk and took out an outfit and put it on. Even after Dumbledore called an all student's and faculty meeting in the grand hall to announce the terrible Voldemort-induced tragedy that had left most of magical Great Britain in flames and ruins, all Hermione did was lay on her bed, curled up in the fetal position, crying in fear and sorrow.