[LOG] Jailbreaking Azkaban

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Who: Alison Mallory, Kahvi Sidhe, Ora Yang, and the Order of the Phoenix
When: New Years Eve, 1998
Where: The Burrow, a remote English suburb
What: The Order of the Phoenix jailbreaks Azkaban, and the girls are help out

*~*~*~*~*

Ora stuffed her sash and a spare change of clothes in her bag, and bounded down the stairs to grab her winter coat from the closet in the hallway. "Mum! Dad! I'm ready!" she shouted, stuffing her arms through the sleeves and doing a quick check through the list in her mind to make sure she had packed everything she needed, and everything that would make it seem like she was going to a legitimate sleepover at the Burrow.

"Mm hm," Ora's father said simply as he folded his copy of The Daily Prophet and set it down on the sitting room table. He shot his daughter a dubious look. Ora smiled up at him cheerfully, as if nothing was wrong. She mitigated it a little when her father's look turned more severe.

"You know if you get lost, Ora, you're breaking curfew."

Ora rolled her eyes. "Yeah, Dad, I know. But I'm eighteen! I can Apparate properly; I'm not going to get lost or end up in the middle of the woods."

Ambassador Yang's mouth twitched as if he didn't completely believe his daughter, but had to actually refrain from telling her so. "I'll leave the wards down for five minutes," he said simply, drawing his wand from the fold of his robes, "so if you get lost you can Apparate back."

"Okay, Dad," Ora said. She rolled her eyes again.

"Have you got everything?" Ora's mum asked. She rose from the couch and looked pointedly at Ora's bag.

"Yup," Ora said with a nod. "And if not, I'm sure Alison can lend me something."

"Toothbrush?"

Ora nodded. "Packed it already, Mum."

Ora's mother simply nodded and smiled, and came around the sofa to give her daughter a hug and a kiss. "Well, Happy New Year, and enjoy the night with your friends."

"Thanks!" Ora gave her mum and dad a hug and a kiss each. Her father still did not look entirely happy as he closed his eyes and hummed the chant to lift the anti-Apparition wards surrounding their house, but Ora still managed a smile as she waved and then thought very hard of the Burrow.

*~*~*~*~*

Ottery St. Catchpole was even colder than London, and even in a thick scarf and coat Ora was shivering. She had appeared about one hundred meters out from the Burrow, and was throughly cold by the time she got to the door and lifted a hand to knock politely at it. Even though the house seemed quiet from the outside, Ora wondered if anyone would hear here--after all, she could not imagine that a rescue the proportions of breaking in and out of Azkaban would take any less than a good chunk of the Order.

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Lysienne nodded sympathetically. It seemed that of all of them, Alison had perhaps been the most fortunate in her choice. But while she had put on a brave front, she too must be worried sick with the twins going to the front lines again tonight. And there was also the formidable Mrs. Weasley to consider... Still, she could talk to them openly, without the terrible fear of discovery hanging over her head. Well, perhaps the Somniparticeps would at least reassure Ora that Draco was all right. She had been so very tempted to brew a bottle for herself, but Syrien would never leave his mind open to anyone, even while he was sleeping... She sighed silently and gave her friend a small answering smile in the mirror. "I'm sure he is. Besides, he has Mr. And Mrs. Malfoy to protect him, right? I'm sure they wouldn't let anything happen to him."

They both fell silent for a moment, gazing at the mirror. "You know, if this is a wizarding house, there must be something about this mirror..." Ora muttered, and tapped it with her wand.

"Mirror Mirror on the wall, who is the fairest one of all...?" Lysienne suggested.

Both girls blinked as the surface of the mirror rippled and an image unfurled across it like a parchment unrolling.

"That...um...doesn't that look a bit like..." Lysienne tilted her head and squinted at the larger-than-life image.

"...the portrait that hangs in front of the Gryffindor common room?" Ora supplied.

They looked at each other. "The Fat Lady!" they exclaimed at the same time.

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Ora stared at the mirror--now apparently a copy of a portrait--and took a tentative step towards it. Unlike the Fat Lady, who moved, adjusted herself, and spoke to the Gryffindor students, the image of her was as still as a Muggle painting.

"This house is hiding something for sure," Ora murmured darkly, glancing over at Lysienne. She sure hoped it wasn't something like Death Eaters or a trap.

Reaching forward, Ora touched the surface of the mirror, her fingers encountering smooth, hard glass. The image rippled and faded, and once more the mirror reflected the dimly lit figures of the two girls. "Well, I'm glad it thinks The Fat Lady's the fairest of...er, something." Ora frowned, she scrutinized the mirror and walked to the corners of the wall, trying to see if there was something behind it. So far as she could tell, what was behind the mirror was just the wall.

Lysienne stared at herself for a few moments while Ora inspected the edges of the mirror all along the floor. "You don't think this is a door, do you?"

Ora blinked, she lifted her head, where she had it pressed to the carpet. "A door?"

Lysienne nodded. "Like the The Fat Lady. She's the door into the Gryffindor common room. And apparently, the fairest door there is."

"The door part makes sense," Ora agreed, after a moment's consideration. "But I'm not so sure about 'fairest.'" Not that she could recall any specific examples of nicer doors, the damp stone wall that was the door to her common room was certainly not the most attractive thing she'd ever walked through. "So do you think we need a password to get this thing open, then?" Ora asked, tapping on the mirror lightly with her wand.

Her friend shrugged.

Ora got back to her feet and took a few steps to stand by Lysienne. "Mirror mirror of this room," Ora said, searching for a quick rhyme, "have you a secret to exhume?"

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Lysienne caught Ora's grim look and looked back at the mirror anxiously. Her friend was right; the mirror was hiding a secret, and it could be anything. Did even the Order know about this? They had to know what lay behind, for it could have a monumental impact on their mission.

"London Bridge is falling down,
Falling down,
Falling down.
London Bridge is falling down,
My fair lady.
Take a key and lock her up,
Lock her up,
Lock her up.
Take a key and lock her up,
My fair lady."

She said in a sing-song voice, but the mirror was not impressed. She shrugged again, giving Ora a sheepish smile. "Well it does mention a lock and a key..."

She tried again:

"One for sorrow,
Two for joy,
Three for a girl,
Four for a boy,
Five for silver,
Six for gold,
Seven for a secret
Never to be told."

Still nothing. She had run out of rhymes to entice the mirror's secrets. "Um...open sesame?"

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Lysienne tapped the mirror with her wand. Ora was not expecting the mirror to do anything, but it rippled again as if it were made of water, and then faded from view entirely, revealing an entire half of the room that hadn't been there previously.

"I can't believe that was the password," Ora said with a frown.

Lysienne smiled, glad that her guess had been correct. Deciding that they could risk a little more light, Ora brightened the light at the tip of her wand, and with her friend, took a few hesitant steps forward.

Lysienne put a hand in front of her as she approached where the mirror had been, wondering if she was suddenly going to run into something solid, but nothing impeded her, and she continued forward a few more paces, before a flick of her wand sent a few glowing spheres to hover about the room, illuminating the secrets the mirror had been hiding.

Ora blinked, stunned. All about the room, stacked on rows of shelves that lined the walls from floor to ceiling, were various...knickknacks. Muggle knickknacks too, from the look of them. Ora immediately recognized a couple that she had seen in Muggle toyshops when she'd been a child--a dancing flowerpot and a whole shelf of plastic and metal wind-up toys. Ora breathed a quiet sigh of relief, thankful that the strange shadows she'd seen earlier by wandlight had not been Death Eaters waiting in ambush. She walked over to a shelf of miniature automobiles, and picked one up. It had a thin layer of dust on it.

Ora shook her head, and put the car back where she found it. The mirrors big secret was...a treasure trove of Muggle toys?

"I wonder what happened to the owner of this house," Ora said, musing to herself quietly as she found a shelf of children's playthings. There was a wheel looking thing with a string coming out of it, which Ora had the urge to pull. She dismissed the urge and moved onto another shelf. "And I wonder why they decided to abandon all their...things."

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Lysienne rubbed her eyes, shook her head, and rubbed her eyes again--and still couldn't make sense of the room. What was all of this? She didn't recognize half of it! She followed one of her witchlights with her eyes as it traveled up...and up...and up, revealing a giant...stuffed bear? Was it really a teddy bear...twice as tall as she was? She approached it cautiously, wand outstretched, but other than its size, there seemed nothing out of the ordinary about it. It was soft as an ordinary teddy bear to the touch as well, and she stroked an enormous paw absently, looking dazedly around the room. There was a somewhat smaller bear beside it with slightly lighter brown fur and a matching bow, and two more half-sized bears beside it. A family of giant teddy bears?

She looked down at her hand. It was surprisingly free of dust--in fact, she detected no dust anywhere, either on the bewildering array of objects or the furniture made to hold them. "I don't think it's abandoned," she said slowly in reply to Ora's question. "Look at how well-kept and protected everything is."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw something scurrying toward her out of the darkness--a mouse? Wondering if she had been wrong about the "protected" part of her previous statement, she pointed her wand at the floor, sending a light after it--then stood staring as it wound smoothly right past her feet. Her witchlight revealed hints of a vast tangle of tracks all over the room and the miniature train traveling on its never-ending road back into the darkness. It might even have let out a puff or two of smoke along the way.

"Maybe the owner ran into trouble with the Ministry and escaped, but had to leave his...treasures?...behind," Lysienne conjectured. And he or she must be one odd wizard or witch, Lysienne thought privately to herself. "He probably had to hide all of this because it would certainly have gotten him into trouble."

Just then Rolan, who had been wandering back and forth behind her, stopped and seized an object that looked like a giant rubbery swordfish. Horrified, she scolded in a loud whisper, "Rolan, no! Put that down! Don't do that to other people's--" The swordfish began singing a tinny tune. "Oog," Lysienne muttered with a hand against her face, not quite knowing whether to laugh or sigh. "I'm guessing there probably isn't anything too dangerous here..."

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Ora winced as the swordfish began singing, wiggling its tail back and forth as the music played. The noise seemed all too loud as it echoed in the silent house, though the wolf hardly seemed to mind as it dropped the thing at Lysienne's feet and lolled its tongue out as if in a pleased grin. The Muggle fish thing continued for a few seconds more, making awkward, mechanical swimming motions as its body bent to and fro before it stopped and was still. Ora let out a breath as the last echoes of the song died out and the house was quiet again. Well, if that didn't startle any hidden things out of the house, then nothing was going to, was it?

"I certainly hope there's nothing in this house more dangerous than that thing," Ora said, nodding at the plastic fish on the floor. It was lying right on one of the train tracks that crisscrossed the room, and would only be a matter of time until one of the enchanted Muggle models rammed into it either destroying the train, the singing fish, or both.

Ora took a few more glances around the room, finding nothing of particular note except just more Muggle toys. Whoever had lived here was one eccentric wizard or witch indeed. "It'd be a pity to leave all these things here," Ora said quietly, threading her way through the shelves. "I hope they come back for them someday.

"Well, I'm going to go look around the house some more," Ora said, sensing that Lysienne wanted to remain amongst the hidden treasures for a while yet. "I'll go make size up the place and set some charms," she said. She left her witchlights for her friend, and lighting her wandtip once more, she set out to explore the rest of the house.

The house was not particularly noteworthy aside from the room of strange Muggle artifacts--the rest of the rooms were completely empty, and a quick check of the closets revealed nothing particularly exceptional. From the largest room upstairs there was a balcony that overtooked a vast expanse of black--the ocean, Ora guessed from the smell when she opened the large glass doors slightly and a blast of cold, salty sea air assaulted her senses. Where this house was Ora had a difficult time telling, and would have to satisfy herself with not knowing for at least a few more hours.

Having thoroughly explored the house both upstairs and down, Ora went back to the sitting room and gathered her sash from the pocket of her winter coat. She wrapped it around her waist where she could easily reach it if needed. She waved her wand about the room, chanting softly, drawing an invisible boundary throughout the house, through every room and every closet and back down again before Ora headed back to the Room of Muggle Things. Not much time had passed by her count, but perhaps too much, she wondered, for the Order's raid to have gone smoothly. She wondered how much longer she and Lysienne would be waiting here, and if at all any escapees would be Portkeying into their empty house.

"I set an Intruder Charm about the whole place," Ora said. "If anybody comes in, by Portkey or any other way, we'll know right away."

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Lysienne nodded gratefully at Ora as her friend stepped out of the mirror-room. She truly was fascinated by the collection of Muggle artifacts, many of which were so bizarre that she couldn't imagine why anyone would want them, much less make them. The singing swordfish, for example. What was it for? She shook her head at Rolan, mock-frowning, but he only grinned wolfishly at her. "You have some odd tastes, my friend," she muttered. She bent and picked it up gingerly by the tail, grateful that it didn't burst into another song. She set it down next to two identical red furry creatures with big round eyes and orange noses. Were they imitations of some strange Muggle pet? She didn't attempt to pick them up.

A dim yellowish glow in a corner of the room caught her eye, and she wended over, carefully avoiding stepping on any of the delicate tracks. It was a huge tank with a yellow witchlight hanging over it like very small, very weak sun. What the tank housed was not fish, but... she bent over and looked at them more closely. Green...fuzzy balls of moss? Were they medicinal, perhaps? Well, given the rest of the room, maybe not. She resisted the urge to poke at them with her wand.

Straightening, she caught of the corner of her eye a figure looming over her right shoulder and nearly jumped out of her skin. The flash of light from her wand illuminated three stone men, life-like and life-sized, wearing exotic armor. A horse stood behind one of them. She stepped closer. Though parts of the statues were worn as if with great age, she sensed nothing of true age about them. So they were...replicas of stone soldiers? Why would a Muggle want a stone army? Could they be animated, like the fish? She stepped back, suddenly uneasy.

Had she spent too much time here? She met Ora coming back into the room and sighed with relief. "Thank you," she replied. "Perhaps we should wait in the sitting room, since that's the most likely place for someone to Portkey in?"

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Ora nodded. "The sitting room is a good idea," she said simply and the two girls extinguished their lights, making their way back to the sitting room to wait.

The house seemed terribly lonely and silent, Ora reflected as she and Lysienne settled down on the carpeted floor. Digging into the bag, Ora pulled out one of the Portkeys, a long length of rope, and handed it to Lysienne. "One each, in case something happens to one of us."

"I hope the Order isn't running into too much trouble," Ora said softly. Judging from the size of the group gathered at The Burrow, it seemed that stealth was the strategy, not an open battle. She wondered how long it was going to be when, and if anybody would make it to the house where they were. "And I hope they don't leave anyone behind."

Ora sighed quietly. She stifled a tired yawn and realized that one of her immediate worries ought to be staying alert and awake.

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Lysienne looked at the password for the Portkey, then thought for a moment and coiled it around her waist, affixing it there with the simplest of tying spells. She sat down against a wall, one arm wrapped loosely against her knees and the other on Rolan's head as he sat down beside her.

Thinking back to Professor Lupin's grim expression, she thought the Order would be much more surprised if there weren't trouble waiting for them. They must have a plan in place, but would it succeed? Voldemort, too, had cunning strategists--not the least of whom was Professor Snape? Had he somehow gleaned plans for this night's mission from her? Had he touched her mind while she'd been distracted? Or had a stray expression, an unguarded word betrayed her? She tried to think back, but the meeting in the tower was already a blur. Professor Lupin had told her it was not the case, but how could he know? How could she know? The dread was dense as a stone in her stomach.

She nodded at Ora's last comment, then smiled wanly at her friend's yawn. "Try the Pepperup Potion," she suggested. "It's normally used for colds, but it's also the base for a lot of alert potions. This one has mint in it--better than coffee or tea, and it neutralizes the smoke."

And perhaps she should try the Calming Potion, she thought, her hand tightening in Rolan's fur. "Ora..." she faltered, then confessed, "I've been thinking about this, and I wonder if I was the one Professor Snape got the information from. I was trying to be careful, but... I should have told everyone I was staying..."

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"Oh, thanks!" said Ora, brightening as Lysienne handed her the Pepper-Up Potion. She took some of it and immediately began feeling a little better.

Ora sat quietly, her legs folded beneath her as she perched, turning over the doubts Lysienne had just confessed. It was certainly possible that somehow Snape was keeping a closer watch on his students than they were on him. Ora thought back to the journal and the Extendable Ear that they had planted in the fireplace of the Headmaster's office. For three months there was nothing--no conversation more interesting than lesson plans and exam schedules. It was so devoid of information, Professor Snape was apparently so silent in his office that Ora suspected that he'd known all along. So far what prevented them from being hauled to the Headmaster for disciplinary action was probably only that the journal and Extendable Ear were untraceable--that so far he hadn't found out precisely who had been trying to exact information from him. The fact that the Ear was from Weasley's Wizard's Wheezes was no large surprise--Professor Snape was familiar with their antics and also that a business as large as theirs left every other student just as innocent or guilty-seeming as the next.

And then there was the matter of Dumbledore's Army. They had all been lucky in getting off with Professor Dumbledore and Harry's convenient lie, but it was then that Ora had made her allegiance's clear to her then Head of House. It was almost impossible to think that Professor Snape was unfamiliar with the rest of the names that had signed that sheet of parchment.

Ora smiled back at her friend reassuringly. "I don't think it's your fault," she said plainly. "I don't think Professor Snape knows anything for sure..." though Ora sounded less certain as she thought that through. She remembered Draco vaguely mentioning that Snape had given him lessons in Occlumency at some point in time. Ora would not be surprised if it turned out that Snape was proficient at reading minds as well as shielding his own.

"Anyways," Ora started again, trying to make up with how she'd faltered on the previous statement. "If Snape knows anything, he only knows as much or even less than we do, which is to say that he knows virtually nothing only that the Order has plotted something. If they've carried out their plans anyway, it means that they've already worked in the contingency that the enemy will be prepared," Ora concluded. There, that sounded better.

"So...how do you think Professor Snape got the information from you?" Ora bit her lip, thinking that maybe she ought to pull out the paper she was using to communicate with Draco and ask him whether or not the man was also a Legilimens. If that was the case...Ora paled. Neither she nor Draco were safe anywhere in Hogwarts, and certain not in Professor Snape's vicinity.

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Lysienne tried to tell herself that the Order would never divulge anything to them that would be calamitous if leaked, but still... what if she had been the weak link failing everyone in this mission? She bit her lip. Perhaps she should be thankful that Syrien never talked about his work.

"Professor Snape has tried to touch my mind before," she said in answer to Ora's question. "I didn't feel him this time, but...maybe I was just too distracted." There had been a moment when their eyes had met in the Owlery and she had been completely caught off guard... Had she been thinking about the Order then...?

How safe were any of them at Hogwarts?

She could see by Ora's change in expression that she was thinking the same thoughts. "I think...we have to learn how to protect ourselves better if we're going to stay at Hogwarts. Maybe Professor Lupin could help..." she suggested hesitantly. "I wish I'd had more time to talk to him."

Then, as if in mockery of her words, a sudden wind tore into their clothes and hair, filling the room with the dank, chill scent of the winter sea...

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Ora mulled over that thought carefully. She remembered Lysienne writing in the their diary that he had attempted to use Legilimency on her. Ora wondered briefly if she'd feel anything if Professor Snape tried to read her mind, or if maybe he could simply lift thoughts and memories from her without her knowing. That meant that as long as she was at Hogwarts, then Draco might be...

Ora shook that thought as Lysienne continued. Yes. Occlumency was the only way to ensure their safety, and the safety of the Order while they were still at school. Ora just was just about to say something to that effect, agree that perhaps they should consult Professor Lupin when a sudden wind blew into the room with almost explosive force, cutting the warm air with winter chill and the salty smell of ocean. Ora jumped to her feet, ready immediately, her sash unwinding from her waist and jumping into her hands.

It was still dark as a cluster of what seemed about ten bodies appeared and half of them stumbled or fell. Ora lit her wand immediately, shining a bright light in the faces of the group, some of whom jumped, some of whom let out a scream and shrunk away.

"Miss Yang, put that light out!" one of the figures whipped around quickly, and Ora heard Professor McGonagall's voice. Her Transfigurations professor stepped into the light towards her, and immediately Ora extinguished her light once more drowning them all in darkness.

The was another murmur amongst the group--Ora heard the sobs of somebody beginning to cry.

"It's safe, girls," McGonagall said, her usually sharp voice edged with weariness. "We made it without any Death Eaters on our tail, but the others may not be so lucky."

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Lysienne unfroze at Professor McGonagall's calm but tense voice and lowered her wand. She strained her eyes to see in the sudden darkness.

"Is anyone hurt?" she asked anxiously, coming forward and uncoiling the rope from her waist. She presented the Portkey to McGonagall along with the password, then turned as someone in the group cried, "Miriam! I think she was hit by something!"

Lysienne quickly stepped towards the voice, followed by McGonagall. "Oh!" McGonagall's dim wandlight had revealed a portly middle-aged witch in the remnants of what had been fine dress robes clutching her side, face drained of all color. She tottered and began falling before an invisible hand caught her and lowered her gently to the ground. On her knees in front of the woman, Lysienne gave Ora a smile for her quick reaction. Though her face was pale, Ora remained cool and collected, her sash in one hand, her wand in the other, looking ready to challenge any and all comers. The Order would not have wrong if they had asked Ora to join them in the front lines, Lysienne thought, but she was grateful indeed for her friend's strength here.

A darker stain than the cardinal-red of the woman's robes was spreading beneath her hands. "A sectus curse," Lysienne murmured. Deep... But clean, at least. She quickly transfigured several bandages from a cut-off corner of her robe and, pulling the woman's hand away, affixed them to the wound and bound them there with a spell. "Professor McGonagall," she murmured as she worked, "please gather the group and be ready to use the Portkey. I can only stabilize the wound, so you need to get her to a proper Healer as soon as you can." The Order would surely have plans for treating the wounded... The rescued witches and wizards drew back and formed a circle with McGonagall as the center. The last wizard, a wizened old man who looked as if a stray wind might lift him off, knelt beside her with the end of the rope.

Lysienne levitated her healing potion from her bag and poured it over the bandages, murmuring fortification, cleansing, and quick-reaction spells. She hesitated over the last, a pain-block spell. It took an enormous amount of energy, energy which she didn't know if she could spare. The woman's blood-stained hand touched hers. "Save the rest, deary, you've done enough." The woman gave her a small white-lipped smile. "My son's a medi-wizard."

Lysienne nodded and stepped back, and McGonagall swung around so that both she and the old wizard were supporting Miriam.

"Thank you to you both," she nodded at each of them in turn. "Be safe." Then she said the password, and the light went out of the room once more.

"Lumos," Ora said. They stared at each other in the dim light.

"I don't think I..." Lysienne looked down at her hands. They were trembling. "I don't think I was quite ready for that," she murmured.

Ora quietly handed her the rest of the Pepper-Up potion, which Lysienne drank at a gulp, but it took a sip of the Calming Potion before the shivering stopped. When her mind had finally stopped chasing itself in circles, Lysienne looked at her friend anxiously. "I've used up most of our healing supplies already. What do we do if the second group comes through with even worse injuries?"

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Ora stepped aside as Lysienne rushed forward towards the injured witch. Ora smiled back when her friend smiled at her--she was glad to have Lysienne's expertise by her side. Taking a step back from the group, Ora scanned the heads of the huddled group--witches and wizards comforting each other, all looking ragged and haggard from weeks upon weeks of imprisonment in Azkaban. Ora's brows knit very slightly. Her grip tightened on her wand and her sash. She was satisfied that no Death Eaters had followed Professor McGonagall's group undetected, but if any showed up anywhere at all, Ora resolved to give them the fight of their lives. How could they...to their own people?

Ora nodded back when McGongall nodded her appreciation at both of the girls.

"Lumos," she said, when they disappeared and once again the empty house was silent.

Ora was shaking too, from anger or from anxiousness she couldn't tell. She handed Lysienne the rest of the Pepper-Up potion. Ora stood by her friend quietly as Lysienne also took the Calming Potion and waiting for her quivering to cease.

"I don't know," Ora said simply. She put a hand on Lysienne's shoulder and drew her into a quick hug. "If anyone's seriously injured, it's our job to send them on as fast as possible." Ora pulled out the other Portkey, a folded flower-print bedsheet that looked like it had been dug out of the recesses of the Weasley's attic. "Let's hope that doesn't happen," Ora said. She looked down to the floor, and wondered how far behind the second group would be. Not too far, by her reckoning.

Ora smiled. "We'll find some way to make do," she said confidently. "Even if the worst happens."

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"One thing at a time?" Lysienne smiled a bit tremulously and hugged her friend back, comforted by her conviction. "And at least that's one group safely away."

She drew back and they listened together, almost expecting another blast of sea wind to swoop down on them immediately. But the seconds ticked away and the house remained silent and still. If only she'd brought more of her healing supplies... But had anyone anticipated fighting this close--what sounded almost like a head-on confrontation? She bit her lip. The Order probably had not wanted this, but... They were getting people out. They were accomplishing their aim, in whatever limited sense of that phrase one wanted to use. The second group would probably be coming through at any moment now. Lysienne thought hard.

"You know, I think there might be Muggle medicines in that storage room we saw," she said slowly. "I don't know much about them at all, but maybe some of them could be useful. Do you think you would be able to tell if you saw them?"

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Ora frowned, pressing her lips together as she turned to gaze in the direction of the Muggle trove of strange artifacts. "I know some of the common ones, like Anadin," Ora said, "but I've never taken Muggle medicine before so I don't know how they work or what they do." Ora let that statement hang in the air for a moment, thinking that perhaps giving Muggle medicine was a bad idea. "Maybe the bottles or boxes have directions on them," Ora suggested, thinking that since most potions came with instructions, then it would make sense that Muggle medicines came with instructions too.

"Let's go check," Ora said, though she was a little hesitant to leave the room, in case the next group arrived and needed immediate assistance.

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Lysienne could sense Ora's doubt, and in truth the chance was slight that they would be able to find anything that they felt sure of enough to use. Lysienne had heard that truly skilled Potions masters could tell the ingredients and efficacy of a mixture just by color or scent or taste. Did that ability extend to Muggle-made things as well? She had so much to learn...

But if it truly became dire enough, she wanted to have considered all possibilities.

"Let's go check," Ora said, but paused for a moment. Lysienne knew that she was worried about the next group Portkeying in and perhaps needing help. If the fighting was so close, having someone here might make a difference...

Lysienne looked at Rolan. "Will you stay?" she asked.

The wolf laid his ears back, looking distinctly unhappy, but sat down reluctantly. Lysienne smiled. "Thank you!"

She led the way back down the hall at a sprint.

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Ora clutched the remaining Portkey tightly, and followed her friend. Muggle medicines...it had been a good long while since Ora had last turned on the Muggle telly that was beginning gather dust in her family's sitting room. She hoped she'd be able to spot them quickly in the dark.

Ora lifted her wand, taking the first steps into the strange trove of Muggle artifacts. "Lum--"

The rest of the spell was lost as suddenly the house shook and groaned, windows and walls rattling alike. Wind blasted into the room with a shrieking howl, knocking several things off their shelves and crashing onto the floor as Ora put an arm in front of her eyes to shield herself from the piercing gust of sea and the stench of...blood. Suddenly there were screams all around--not just from the wind, the sound of bodies bumping into each other, of people falling, of several pairs of feet moving at once. Ora reached for her sash and saw a flash of something headed her way. She leaned to the side, not even having time to take a step, and something behind her exploded in splinters.

Something had gone horribly wrong.

Recovering quickly, Ora sent her sash out, the cloth flying through the air toward the spellcaster whose curse she'd narrowly dodged--but the shadow was already gone, and there were too many dark figures moving about the room for Ora to tell which ones were Death Eaters, and which ones, if any, were members of the Order. Ora pulled her sash back and ducked out of the way of the entrance, where a few figures were scurrying in, hunched over.

Darkness be damned, she needed light, and right now.

"Lumos!" Ora shouted, and sent out two great, glowing witch lights into the room. There was a pause of only a short moment, as everyone realized that they could suddenly see, but long enough that Ora had recognized two Death Eaters amongst the new portkey'd arrivals.

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Lysienne froze as the house suddenly rocked as if in a violent earthquake and screams ran out around her in the darkness. She could smell the sea again--and then, terrifyingly, blood. She let out a short shriek of her own as something broke directly above her head. She crouched, hands covering her head, as its shards rained down on her.

She could sense that Ora was no longer beside her. Everything was chaos and darkness. She could see nothing--

And then she could, as Ora's spell lit up the entire room. In the confusion she had an impression of two bedraggled figures cowering in the middle of the room and two blurred shapes in black robes and white masks moving too fast for her bewildered eyes. Her heart skipped a beat. Death Eaters! Death Eaters, here! What had happened to the Order members who were supposed to be with the rescuees? Were they...dead?

She stood petrified for almost a moment too long, for a curved wand emerged from the blur of dark shapes, pointed directly at her chest. But the red-streaked spell from its tip went widely awry as a dark grey shape, moving almost as fast, crashed into the black one. For a moment a wolf and a tall masked figure fell out of the roiling mass of movement. To Lysienne it seemed as if everything froze for that one instant as the man pointed his wand at the wolf.

"No!" Lysienne screamed, casting something from her own wand--she couldn't remember what--as the wolf flew towards her and something flew back towards the man. She caught Rolan, and they landed together against a mound of softness.

As she and Rolan, both unharmed but with the breath knocked out of them, disentangled themselves, there was another shriek:

"My teddy bear!" someone cried.

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Two Death Eaters in an enclosed space. Quickly shedding the bag around her shoulder, Ora kicked the Portkey off to some dark corner of the room. It slid underneath a shelf full of plastic animals and disappeared from sight. Safe for now, Ora whirled. One of the Death Eaters was already occupied in a duel, moving fast but not fast enough for Ora to lose track of him. The other...out of the corner of her eye Ora saw a red spark fly wide from Lysienne, causing yet another explosion of splinters and the distinct sound of cracking plastic.

Ora sent her sash forward again. The black figure of the Death Eater was still for just long enough. This was what she had trained for years for, under the stern guidance of her mother and father. This was the magic of her family, handed down for over one thousand years, a magic that she hoped was different enough from what they knew to catch them off guard and buy her the few moments she needed to do what she had to do. The magic cloth darted forward as if it had a mind of its own, striking with snake-like speed and precision to wrap one of its ends around the Death Eater's arm. The Death Eater stopped, bewildered. Ora gave her sash a ruffle, propagating a wave down its length quickly that crested in a sickening crunch. The Death Eater dropped his wand with a silent cry of agony.

"Stupefy!" Ora shouted, and the Death Eater fell to his knees and collapsed, unconscious.

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Lysienne quickly strengthened the shield spells she had instinctively cast on herself and Rolan during the scuffle, silently thanking Syrien for drilling her in it so often that it had become instinctive, then enveloped both Ora and the two rescued prisoners with protective spells as well. She didn't have the energy to hold up all of them for long, but this was no time to be worried about that!

The cry had come almost in the same moment Ora had stunned one of the Death Eaters with stunning efficiency. All movement abruptly ceased, and both she and Ora cautiously looked around. In the middle of the room, the larger-than-life teddy bear from the room of Muggle treasures lay face-down on the floor, with a scattering of toy cars and the swordfish beside it. A faint groan came from beneath the bear, along with a feeble ripple of black robes. Far from looking relieved, however, one of the former prisoners, a middle-aged wizard with thinning blond hair, had rounded furiously on Lysienne. "How could you throw my precious collection around like this?" he wailed. "Do you know how difficult it is to get one of these bears? And this fish! I had to all the way to Vert-mont for it!"

Lysienne blinked. "Er...I'm sorry?" she ventured.

"Alfred!" The woman beside him interrupted with exasperation, her upward-rolling eyes indicating that this was not the first time she had had to sidetrack him. "Don't tell me all of this is yours!"

The man shrank back for a moment, then drew himself up with dignity. "So what if it is? It's a collection even the Muggles themselves couldn't dream of! I have something from every Muggle country in the world, as well as every state in America!"

The woman sighed. "All right, so your house is a veritable museum. But shouldn't you be thanking these girls for saving your life? What good is that collection of yours if you're not here to enjoy it?"

The man stared at her for a moment, then turned to Lysienne and Ora. "My apologies for my rudeness." He bowed with perfect courtesy. "And my thanks for my life and that of Lady Cecilia."

Then he picked up the swordfish and swung it at the Death Eater still trapped under the bear. The figure stilled. "Ah, I see Muggle-made items are not so fragile after all," he commented as the swordfish started singing in its tinny voice. "I would say they're quite durable, in fact."

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Ora looked about as the Death Eater fell searching for more movement, more spells flying, but there was nothing. Some of the new escapees had fled the room into the house in their confusion. Verifying that Lysienne was unharmed, Ora scanned the faces of the assembled wizards and witches, each one looking haggard and pale. There were two crouched in concern on the floor over a witch who barely seemed conscious. Though her face was blood-streaked, Ora recognized her as one of the members of the Order of the Phoenix that she had glimpsed briefly in the Weasleys' sitting room.

Ora was a bit bewildered by the middle-aged wizard, newly rescued, arguing with Lysienne, but Ora attended to important matters first, making her way to the injured Order member whose name she did not even know.

"What's happened?" Ora asked as she knelt down, suddenly noticing that there was a blossoming red stain covered by the Order woman's arm clutched around her middle.

A young wizard shook his head. "Don't know," he said, his voice strained with urgency and panic, "we thought we were safe when all of a sudden she just collapsed..."

"Lysienne!" Ora called, glancing over her shoulder to see her friend now surrounded not only by the balding middle-aged wizard, but another witch as well. She winced as she recognized the song sung by the singing swordfish.

Ora stepped aside as her friend excused herself from the two people talking to her, and rushed over to examine the injured Order member.

She beckoned to the young wizard beside Lysienne. "Gather up everybody else who fled the room, we need to get you out of here as soon as possible."

Putting a reassuring hand on Lysienne's shoulder, Ora checked on the two Death Eaters, the one whose arm she had broken and the one who had just been smashed in the head by a Muggle plastic singing toy. They were still stunned, though Ora had no idea how long it take for them to revive. She cast the Full-Body Bind on them just to hold him if they woke up and her attentions were divided. What should she do with them? She obviously couldn't leave them here, not when the balding man who had been haranguing Lysienne was beginning to check all the shelves of the Muggle treasure trove with the desperation of someone's prized collection of toys just ruined.

"My collection of Hot Wheels!" he wailed. "Oh, you'll pay for this, You-Know-Who!" The man shook a fist in the empty air.

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At Ora's call Lysienne hurried over to the woman, on the floor out of her initial view of the room almost in the hallway, and knelt beside her in dismay. Another sectus curse, and this one worse than the last. She bit her lip.

Ora touched her shoulder as if sensing her worry. Lysienne looked up and gave her a brief smile. Cecilia, who had joined her, sucked in a quick breath and stood back. "We need to stop the bleeding before we move you," Lysienne told the wounded witch. "I don't have much here, so we need to get you to a safe place as soon as we can. Now hold still."

She took in a long breath, gathering herself, reaching deep, and pulled the woman's hands gently away before replacing them with her own. The woman moaned as the dark, warm blood spurted through Lysienne's fingers, but the flow was abruptly cut off as Lysienne spun a web of pure energy across the wound. She lifted her hands away, sitting back, gasping and shivering a little. Too much energy, expanded too fast...good thing she'd had that Pepper-Up potion earlier.

"Ora," she said a little breathlessly as her friend came back from checking on the Death Eaters, "would you cast a warming spell on her?"

Ora complied, then paused and cast another on Lysienne, who whispered, "Thanks." The witch stopped shivering and relaxed a little. Ora gave her a sharp look. Ah, yes. Her friend, who understood the fundamentals of magic as well as anyone she knew, if not necessarily the exact spell cast, would know how very delicate--how brittle the spell she had chosen truly was. It could break at a single sharp movement. Such a fragile spell for such a high cost. But it had been the only thing she could think of that would staunch the flow of blood completely, giving her a little time to think.

"Here, would this help?" Cecilia had reappeared at her elbow, holding a bottle of--Lysienne's eyes widened. What was that?

"Spidersilk," Alfred supplied proudly as Lysienne took the bottle. "Not, of course, Muggle, but quite rare for all of that. It's vacuum-sealed, so it should be as good as the day it was made. That'll stick to you like your own skin, that will, and strong as anything, too."

"Now we may actually have to believe his claim that he's been to every country in the world, hmm?" Cecilia winked at Lysienne as she blinked.

"Oh..." Lysienne breathed. "That's perfect! Thank you!" She looked up. "Sorry, Ora, would you mind getting the rest of the Healing potion?"

As Ora went to hunt down their bag, Lysienne fumbled with the bottle's cap. After watching for a moment, the young wizard next to the woman on the floor gently took the bottle from her and twisted it open with a pop. Lysienne gave him a sheepish smile and extracted the shimmering, silky-white material from the bottle. It was the softest thing she had ever touched, and almost seemed to extrude its own warmth. She laid it across the wound above her spell, and the spidersilk immediately joined itself to the exposed flesh. She then took the bottle Ora had brought back and upended the small amount remaining over the spidersilk. She squeezed the woman's hand in reassurance and looked around at the gathered witches and wizards. "I think we're ready," she said.

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Ora drew the final Portkey from her bag, unfurling the sheet in the center of the gathered group. An argument broke out between the witch who'd supplied Lysienne with the Spidersilk and the wizard to whom--Ora presumed by his reaction from the destruction of the room of Muggle things--the house actually belonged.

"Don't you care about anybody else here, Alfred?" the witch protested, her hands balled up in fists at her side.

Alfred looked like he was about to retort, but obviously thought better of it. "I suppose I can always come back when I please," he muttered, giving his now-damaged precious Muggle belongings a sad look. Reluctantly he stepped forward to grip an edge of the Portkey. Ora passed a corner of the sheet to the injured Order witch, who was still pale and sitting on the floor, but looking much better than she had been minutes ago.

"The password is 'trumpet,'" Ora said to the group, and then reassured the Order witch that she would tell Mrs. Weasley to send a proper healer after her.

The group disappeared, leaving the house silent. Ora's witchlight still floated near the ceiling, and she noticed as she and Lysienne stared at each other and then at the two Death Eaters still unconscious on the floor, that they were both trembling something fierce.

"Okay," Ora said simply. She stunned both of the Death Eaters again just for good measure, and turned to Lysienne. "Go back to the Burrow, and tell Mrs. Weasley that I'm here at Alfred's house with two unconscious Death Eaters. I don't know what to do with them." It occurred to her that maybe she ought to kill them--Merlin only knew how many prisoners and members of the Order had perished in the raid alone--but Ora dismissed that thought with a sick turn of her stomach. Mrs. Weasley or somebody else would know what to do about them.

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Lysienne swallowed twice to get her voice working. Ora's eyes were huge in the witchlight, and she was sure her own looked as stunned and bruised with exhaustion, if not more so. She wished desperately for the night to be over. This had been her first true battle, and though they were both still standing at its end, she only wanted to go home and forget for a little while. But there was no Syrien waiting for her with his unshakeable calm and his understanding smile...

She stopped that thought it its tracks. They were still standing--unharmed even if trembling like leaves in the winter wind outside, and that was a blessing indeed. There was still work to be done, and quickly, for they didn't know if their location had been disclosed to other Death Eaters.

Lysienne walked over to Ora and hugged her hard. "Should I leave Rolan with you?" she asked. "In case...?"

Ora shook her head. "Just be as quick as you can."

Lysienne nodded and drew back. "I'll Apparate outside, then." She forestalled Ora's protest. "If something happens, at least you'll be able to use the Portkey to get back. I know it'll take a little more time, but I don't want you trapped here without an escape route. All right?" Ora reluctantly nodded, and Lysienne mustered a small smile. "I'll be back in three ticks!" She was pulling on her coat even as she spoke, then flew down the stairs with Rolan at her heels. They bounded together a little ways away from the house. When Lysienne finally judged that they were outside the anti-Apparation wards, she kneeled, put her arms around Rolan, and focused her mind on the Burrow. Surprisingly, the run had cleared her head and allowed her to recover some of her energy. Apparation seemed almost easier than the Healing she had done earlier.

They arrived back at the Burrow front door panting madly. Remus Lupin opened the door at her first knock, and looked down at her, startled. "Lysienne, what--?"

"Professor Lupin!" She was relieved to see him unharmed, if a bit muddied. "Death Eaters came with the second group but Ora stunned them and she's watching them and we need someone to go back and tell us what to do with them!"

"Lysienne! Here, slow down a bit." He placed his hand on her shoulder, and Lysienne's head jerked up at the swift, hard probe of another mind into her thoughts. She instinctively blocked it and stared at Lupin, stunned. He stared back, eyes as wide as hers.

"Lysienne, I'm sorry. I had to know... Who taught you to...?" Lysienne shook her head and looked away, only noticing that her hands were clenched into fists when Rolan gave a low rumbling growl beside her. Lupin fell silent. "You're right, this isn't the time for that," he said after a moment. He turned. "Arthur! Will you call the Secret Keeper for Location 16, please?"

Molly Weasley came running after a minute and looked from Lysienne to Lupin and back again. "What is it? Where is Ora?"

Lysienne explained and begged, "Well you please come back with me, Mrs. Weasley?"

"Of course, dear," she replied firmly. A look passed between her and Lupin. A few minutes later, they Apparated.