Chapter 282 Echoes of Honor

Father Fangio peered out the large window and stared at the home across the way. The sounds of fighting had died down more than a few minutes ago, and the bucolic scene was quiet and still. A large front of dark clouds was rapidly covering the area and small bolts of lightning touched down across the horizon. He pulled the front of his tunic over his collar and stared worriedly out towards the last signs of flashing light that marked the attempt to capture Potter. Fangio knew the gambit was desperate. The word that Livers had surrendered to the Aurors with the books made the recovery problematic. He heard a loud crack of thunder and put it off to approaching storm, until a voice behind him interrupted his reverie. The attempt failed, First Secretary. Fangio whirled around and saw Father Michael standing in the doorway next to a tall, thin man with dark red hair and a serious expression. What is the meaning of this, Father Michael? Where is Archbishop Valliere? The man next to Michael shook his head slowly. Im afraid Archbishop Valliere is in custody. So are you, Im sorry to say, Father Fangio. Fangio reached into his breast pocket and pulled out an official Vatican-issued passport. I have diplomatic immunity, sir. So does Archbishop Valliere. You have no power to detain me. What is your name, so that I might lodge a complaint with the Foreign Secretary? The man smiled. My name is Ronald Weasley, senior Auror for the Ministry of Magic. Im afr aid your claim of immunity is an agreement with the muggle administration and has no weight with the wizarding world. Ron strode forward and drew his wand. Archbishop Valliere is a wizard and as such, falls within the purview of the International Confederation of Wizards. Im not a wizard. Fangio muttered. That is correct, sir. You will be deported, of course, but through the avenues available through the International Confederation. You see, the line of separation between muggles and wizards goes both ways, sir. Wizards cannot interfere with the muggle world, but muggles may not interfere with the wizarding world. You set about events that led to a direct attack on a wizard. You will have much to answer for. Ron gestured for Fangio to follow him out the door. The priest hesitated and stared at Michael. You have a duty, as a priest and a Templar to stop this, Father Michael. You swore an oath to the Church. Michaels head lowered to his chest and then he looked Fangio in the face. My oath was to God, First Secretary, so was yours. Fangios brow knit together. Youre finished. Youll be damned in the eyes of the Church. Michael nodded soberly. Ill be saved in the eyes of God. I will not harm innocents, Father, for any reason. Fangio made as if to speak further, but he clamped his mouth tight and Ron escorted him meekly out the door. ***

I wasnt cooking, you know. Harry rolled his eyes at Ginnys exclamation. Ginny sat in the chair next to Harrys bed as the Healer checked Harrys wound. She continued, You didnt have to go and get attacked just to avoid having to eat something I made. Ginny, please? Dont make me laugh. It hurts when I laugh. The healer nodded her head appreciatively and then walked out of the ward. Ginny continued speaking. Of course, if you were trying to avoid Kreachers cooking, that would be an entirely different thing. Still, you could just say no. You didnt need to go head to head with a hippopotamus. Her eyes twinkled at his discomfort. It was a rhinoceros, Ginny. Harry said meekly. Whatever. Harry had several broken ribs and a concussion in addition to the large, gaping wound in his leg. Ginnys timely intervention had probably saved the use of that leg, which had been mangled by the goring. The healer returned with a small vial of potion. She handed the bottle to Ginny. Hes to take this twice a day for the next week. He should be right as rain, unless Unless what? Harry asked plaintively. Unless you decide to butt heads with any more platypuses. Ginny and the healer shared a grin while Harry groaned. It was a rhinoceros! Together, the healer and Ginny laughed. Whatever. *** The office tower overlooked most of modern day London. When Simon C lark disappeared, his estate left most of his real estate holdings in England to the state. The muggle Prime Minister, fully briefed on the billionaires schemes, had turned over some of the property to the Minister of Magic. It had taken a while, but first Kingsley Shacklebolt and now John Dawlish, used the skyscraper as an annex to the main subterranean Ministry offices. The topmost office was reserved for the Minister and a tall, severe looking man in a clerical collar stared out the plate glass windows as he decided his fate. Seated in various states of anxiety were the seven Templars whod been captured or surrendered with him. Michael heard the footsteps as the huddled group of Ministry officials and the representatives of the Vatican walked into the room. The ambassador to the Holy See did not look pleased. John Dawlish ushered the man to a seat in the middle of the room and then turned and faced the anxious men. Hermione, Harry and Domina Malfoy stood to the side along with several members of the Wizengamot, including Percy Weasley. Dawlish took a deep breath. It has been decided that Archbishop Valliere will be turned over the International Confederation of Wizards for adjudication. I suspect a term at the St. Helena facility is in order. Father Fangio will be turned over to the Vatican. Dawlish nodded over to the ambassador who nodded slowly.

What about my men, Minister? What is to become of them? Michael spoke forcefully and stood in defense of his men. They did what they thought were the commands of the Church dictated. Dawlish nodded. Saying you were ordered to do something wrong is usually not an excuse, Father Michael, but we do understand the exigencies of your situation. Therefore, through careful consultation with Father Murphy, we have decided to offer you a choice. You can go back to the Vatican or you can stay here. But? Michael asked carefully. The brusque representative of the Church cleared his throat. If you return to the Vatican, you will be rendered to a parish that needs you. We have agreed to disband you from the Templars. If you decide to not return to the mother Church, you will be stripped of your clerical titles and divested from the order. Michael took a deep breath. The penalty was steep, to not be a Templar or to not be a priest. He reflected on his duty. For over sixty years, hed been a Templar and a priest. The choice was difficult, but he made it. I will not speak for the men behind me, but I choose to stay here. I have not lost faith in God or in the Church, but I have lost confidence in its leadership. I no longer wish to pursue that life. My calling is elsewhere. He turned and faced the startled men hed led. I must go my own way. You still have a future in the Church. You still have a choice. Go back and serve the Lord. Remember what youve seen. The men stood and shared glances. Then, one by one, the walked and stood by their former leader, now simply Michael. The Vatican ambassador stood. His face flushed a bright crimson as he looked with distaste at the former priests. So be it. I will pray for you all. He turned and walked out in a huff. Father Daniel, the young prelate, looked around and then smiled. So, now what are we to do? Harry cleared his throat. Well, I know how good you are. I think you should come and work for the Aurors. Youd be an ideal fit. Several of the former Templars nodded, but Michaels face was a mask. He shook his head slowly. My conscience would not let me return, it will not let me join the ranks of the Ministry. Im sorry, Mr. Potter. Daniel nodded. So what will we do? Michael, for the first time that any of them could remember, smiled. I do not know. Ahem? Everyone turned to the source of the voice. It came from a strikingly beautiful woman with clear, porcelain skin and long full platinum hair. Her eyes were icy blue with the barest hint humor behind them. She was tall and noble, her shoulders thrown back and her bearing regal. Her mouth was turned slightly upward in a small smile. Domina Malfoy was the Ministrys representative to the International Confederation of Wizards and brilliant politician. Married to Draco Malfoy, together they made an unstoppable team. She looked at Michael. I believe I may have another option for you to consider. Michael looked at her curiously. He bowed his head slightly. My lady, I am all ears.

*** Harry walked into the busy Office of Aurors and smiled as Williamson and Mortimer walked up to him. Mortimer shook his head. Malfoy? Theyre going to work for Malfoy? They must be insane! Mortimer grumbled, but Williamson slapped him on the shoulder. My wife works for Malfoy. So does Baretto and Lockley. He cant be that bad. Mortimer nodded apologetically. Still, thats a talented strike team he just picked up. I wonder Malfoy will use them? Harry shook his head. Something tells me that we might not want to know. The a puzzled look crossed his face. Wheres Sean and Ron? Mortimer shrugged his shoulders. Neither one came in today. I guess Ron is still recovering and I heard Carter was leaving St. Mungos today. Im sure Sean is picking him up. Harry nodded. Good. I cant wait for things to get back to normal around here. Williamson smiled. Whatever that means. *** He was alone in the room, a single, wooden table with a single, lonely candle aflame on top of it. With an alarming regularity, he poured the dark liquid from the dusty bottle into the shot glass and drained it, pausing only a few seconds before repeating the process. He held the refilled glass up. Alls well that ends well. He sneered and then drained the glass. That was the case over and over again. People got hurt. People died and the great Harry Potter continued to rule the roost. The man filled and drained the glass again. Hed been an Auror for years. Hed seen the pain that seemed to follow Harry Potter wherever he went. He was certain that Potter didnt mean to cause pain, it just happened that way. The past few weeks had taken quite a toll on him. There was far too much too lose with no appreciable gain. Potter always seemed to find trouble. Maybe he was the problem. The fog of the liquor confused him. The guilt he felt resonated through his brain. Wizards dont commit suicide. They are forced to linger through the suffering. He could not end it. He felt himself reaching a breaking point, a place where hed jump into the abyss of overwhelming despair. Hed sober up a nd be able to function, but the fissure in his psyche was slowly widening. He stared into the opening and for the first time, he started embrace it. The source of his pain was there, as well. He saw the bright green eyes of Harry Potter staring back at him. Hed sober up and return to work. Hed be ready to face the challenges, but somewhere, sometime soon, the crack would become a chasm and hed jump through it. Hed face off with Harry Potter. Hed assuage his own guilt by taking it out on Harry, it was only a matter of time. He put the cork stopper back into the top of the bottle and wiped his sleeve across his mouth. The candle was slowly dying. Carter was home. Things worked out, this time, but he could not bear it much longer.

He was cracking. He knew it. Most of all, he was beginning to welcome it. He stood and replaced the bottle in the cupboard. The clock tolled the time and he blinked. It wouldnt do to be seen like this. Hermione and the kids would be home soon. Ron Weasley stumbled to the bathroom to find an antialcohol draught to make himself presentable when his family returned home.

Chapter 283 - Of Nargles and Crumple-Horned Snorkacks Winter only made the wind off the North Sea feel like sharpened daggers through his cheeks. His legs ached from the climb and he paused to make sure she was still nearby. The slight figure of the woman behind him didnt seem the slightest bit perturbed by the turn in the weather. The snow was falling lightly, but steadily, adding to the two feet or so that already lay on the slope side of the hill they were climbing. He took a deep breath and watched the crystals dance in the wind as he exhaled. His dark brown eyes took in his companion, who was bundled tightly in a survival parka, her fur-lined boots over her Gortex pants. She had a muffler wrapped tightly around her nose and face and a bushy, arctic hat pulled down over her ears and forehead. He could see faint wisps of straggly, dirty blond hair trying to escape the hood of her parka, and all he could really see of her face were the silvery gray eyes that gazed around the landscape in wonder. They shared a gaze and he felt a warmth transmit through his body like a spark of electricity, which overcame the numbing cold, if only for a split second. He smiled, although his own muffler was covering his face, making the gesture something more for him than her. He leaned his head to hers in order to allow his words to carry to her ears. Are you sure this is the right spot? I can hardly see anything! He shouted and waved his hand in a wide arc, taking in the vista the mountain gave them. The surf from the North Sea bypassed the distant Orkney Islands and vented their fury on Duncansby Head. The sky was dark and gloomy, doubly so from the fresh snow that was starting to quicken. He began to grow worried as the darkness worsened, wondering if they were too exposed and needed to find shelter. He looked back to the woman. Her eyes glistened with delight. Amazingly, she reached up a mittened hand and tugged the top of her scarf down from her mouth and turned her face upward, pushing her tongue out to catch a wayward snowflake. When she did, she smiled fully and shone her pleasure on him, again forcing the breath from his chest. Then, as if a wave of awareness came over her, she dropped her chin down and pointed towards a nearby rock wall. He followed her guidance and grasped her hand. They trudged through the snow to the wall where he found a narrow opening in the rock face. He shook his head. It was here all along, just like she said it would be. He looked back and then turned towards the opening. It was more of a slit than a proper cave entrance and he had to turn sideways to enter. He shrugged through for a few meters until the crack widened into a large, natural chamber filled with geodes and crystalline rock that seemed to glow from their own luminescence. He waited as she followed inside and glanced around. The walls of the cavern were smooth and sloped down towards another, larger opening at the end of the room they were in. On the floor, in the center of the room, there was a blackish-blue pool of water, so still that it seemed like a slab of ice, except for the streams of steam that idly reached upward to the ceiling. There was genuine heat radiating from the pool and the man felt his own body temperature rising. He began to peel off his gloves and his outer wrapping and unbuttoning the front of his survival suit. His hair was matted and tamped down from sweat and exertion. It was black and short and he sported a matching goatee. His skin was tan, both from genetics and what seemed like years working in the elements. He walked slowly to the pool and dipped his bare fingers in the water. He turned and faced the woman, who was also beginning to uncouple her bulky outerwear.

I had no idea there were springs around here. Theres no mention of them in the travel guides. These must have been hidden for centuries. He mused and allowed the warmth of the water to penetrate his hand. Thats why no one has been able to find the habitat. Its been hidden. The light, dreamy lilt of his companions voice was filled with optimism. Im sure well find a whole colony this time. He rose and grasped her by the shoulders, smiling tenderly at her. I dont want you to get your hopes up too high. You remember the last time we thought we found a nesting zone. She nodded slightly. They had already migrated on, thats for sure. He smiled. Still, we found and catalogued a fur-tailed dodo on that trip. It wasnt a total loss. The woman edged around the near wall, placing her fingers lightly on its contours and walking with her eyes cast up to the ceiling. I can feel them. Im sure well find them this time. Luna Lovegood Scamander smiled openly towards her husband, Rolf. Theres a Crumple-Horned Snorkack around here and were going to find it. *** Contrary to popular fiction, the village of Hogsmeade was usually a very quiet place when nearby Hogwarts was on winter break. Granted, weekends when the school is in session, the town almost doubles in population and the local businesses see a run in receipts that fills the coffers, but when most of the student body heads home for nearly six weeks at the end of the fall term, the town becomes a slumbering hamlet nestled in a crisp white coat of frost and snow. Needless to say, when reports of a dramatic disturbance in one of the local pubs reaches the Office of Aurors during the winter lull, it is met, at first, with skepticism and then worry, as were most events that seemed apart from the norm. A loud clap of thunder followed by a burst of greenish smoke accompanied the appearance of four Aurors and the same number of Hit Squad members. Eric Williamson looked to the side and then smiled at Silas Hornsby, pointing down a far alley. Who called it in? Eric asked. Hed been summoned from his home and had not gotten most of the details of the incident. Silas shrugged. Youll never believe me. The large man smiled slyly. Aberforth called for help. Eric raised his eyebrows in surprise. Aberforth Dumbledore, the proprietor of the Hogs Head Tavern was an erstwhile ally of the Ministry, but mostly liked to be left alone. His establishment catered to a crowd that was more prone to avoiding official interactions. Youre right, I dont believe it. Silas chuckled and handed a wrinkled sheet of parchment over to his friend. There was a hurried scrawl written on the front, along with several tears and what appeared to be owl droppings on the top. It read, Send the bleeding marines, theyre tearin up my place. I need help now! Eric snorted and returned the paper to Silas who folded it and placed it in his pocket. Im sorry that they called you in, but I couldnt find anyone. Mortimer is on vacation with his in -laws in Brazil and I got no response from Harry, Ron, or Sean. I grabbed Carter and Betsy and whatever Hit Squad members were about. Theres no sign of Dennis around either.

Carter Sigismund had only just returned to active status, the signs of his injuries from a while ago only just visible. He stood next to a lithe, smartly dressed woman about his age. The pair were speaking in casual tones and looking about the village. Eric sighed. I suppose we should go see whats going on, then. He turned walked down the main street towards the familiar side alley that led to the Hogs Head. As he made the turn down the alley, he saw the front door to the pub was slightly askew on its hinges and several of the front windows had been blown out. Eric raised his hand and made a fist, a signal to the others to draw their wands. He then waved a hand to either side of his head, causing the team to split up, taking both sides of the alley. Betsy stood by Eric, with two of the Hit Squad members, while Carter paired with Silas and the other members of the Hit Squad. They approached slowly, wands pointed down the alley. As they neared the door, Eric reached out tentatively with his free hand and pulled on the handle. The door fell to the ground in a creaking crash. Taking a deep breath, Eric walked inside the bar. Based on countless visits to the Hogs Head, Williamson knew that it wasnt much to look at to begin with, but the destruction inside was still something to behold. Tables and chairs were in splintery pieces and crockery and mugs were in shards, strewn amid the wreckage that had once been the bar. In the far corner, at the end of the bar, there was one solitary stool, completely whole and sitting on the stool was the furious figure of one Aberforth Dumbledore, his arms crossed in front of his chest. Aberforth! Are you all right? Silas walked up to the large man who stared daggers at the Ministry people. Took your bleedin time to get here! When the Dark Lord ran things at the Ministry, you could count on the Death Eaters getting here a might bit faster. The tall barkeep bristled angrily. Who did this, Aberforth? Williamson asked, looking about. Who did this? Now you care about what happens to my place? Eric ignored Dumbledores rant and allowed the wizened, and slightly plump proprietor to regain his composure. Dumbledore rose from the stool and beckoned them to follow him up the stairs. The open area of the second floor was the mirror image of the carnage down below, except this time there were figures strewn about in various states of unconsciousness. As Erics eyes adjusted to the dimness of the room, he began to recognize the faces of the wizards laying about. Oh my stars and garters, its Harry! Carter exclaimed. Silas kneeled down and turned another familiar figure over. Ive got Ron here. He looked up and pointed about. Thats Sean and Dennis and George, and Lee and Dean and Seamus and Dudley. Betsy checked on each in turn. Theyre alive, but theyre bruised a good bit. We may need a healer. Eric turned and looked at Dumbledore. Who did this, Aberforth? Who attacked them? Aberforths eyes seared with anger. Who did this? They did this to themselves. You missed the mother of all bar fights. They got in a tussle among themselves and wrecked my place in the process. Oh my word, um Eric? Carter pointed to the far corner of the room. Eric walked over and the n stopped in his tracks, his hand smacking his forehead. There was a small, round table, in perfect condition, erected in the corner of the room. Seated at the table were two older gentlemen, sipping tea from cups

and eating biscuits, as if they were seated at a sidewalk caf. Eric placed his hands on his hips and shook his head. Arthur. Minister. What in Merlins name is going on here? John Dawlish, the sitting Minister of Magic gave his companion a brief shrug of the shoulders. Arthur Weasley, Minister of Magic Emeritus, nodded his head and smiled up at Williamson. What we have here, my dear Eric, is what I would call therapy. *** They piled their excess gear near the edge of the pool and Rolf led the way further down the passage. The heat from the hot spring cascaded downward and even with their heavy winter clothing off, he felt the perspiration building up on his forehead. He walked slowly, surely down the sloping water-cut passageway, not needing light as the sheen from the geodes cast a pall like daylight. He felt her warm hand enter his and they continued down in silence, enjoying being together. For over a decade, theyd traveled the world together, guided by their love of nature and its creatures. Rolf had been introduced to the outdoors by his grandfather, Newt Scamander, and had been driven to continue his work. Hed met Luna in the hinterlands of Norway, as he was looking for a definitive specimen of Ridgeback while she was chasing rumors of Blibbering Humdinger. He scoffed at her belief in things that had no basis in fact. She acted simply out of faith. That unwavering confidence in the unknown chipped away at him. So he began to believe in nargles and humdingers and finally, the Crumple-Horned Snorkack. He had absolutely no intellectual reason to do so, he simply did, because what it finally came down to was he believed in the delicate woman that was with him. If she believed, so did he. In the course of their travels together, they found each other. Marriage, then a family followed, but their mutual passion for nature always had them fulfilling their wanderlust and chasing after signs of the magical creatures that Luna knew to be real. It wasnt all chasing windmills to Rolf. Their hunt for the mysterious Snorkack had led them to the discovery other, heretofore lost creatures. They were seeing the far corners of the earth. Most of all, to Rolf, they were together, and that was all that mattered. What do you think? He asked, but he was a bit fidgety. She smiled at him warmly. It shouldnt be too much further. See? Theres a brighter light down the way. Im sure well find one there. She canted her head to the side. Her eyes seemed to bore right through him. Whats bothering you? He smiled and shrugged. Lysander and Lorcan, I guess. We havent seen them in a couple of weeks. Usually, they brought their twin sons with them, but the travel to the remote north east coast of Scotland in the dead of winter was deemed a bit too much, even for the children of wizards. Youve never been nervous before. She said pointedly. Its a little different this time, I guess. Its never been this long. Thats true, but theyre fine. Besides, theyre staying with my father, this time, instead of bothering your parents. She commented blithely.

He snorted and started walking down the cavern. Thats what must be bothering me. He mumbled. The boys had been staying with Xenophilius Lovegood for the past two weeks, which was enough to make anyone nervous. They walked together and Rolf slowed his pace. What is it? Luna asked, noticing the change in his gait. He pointed to the floor and the walls. This passage doesnt look natural. Sure enough, the floor was more carved, with flagstones and the walls were smooth and square. Someone carved this out. He reached into his pocket and drew his wand. He smiled towards her. It never hurts to be careful. They clasped hands and walked towards the opening at the end of the passage. When they got there, a wave of warmth swept past their faces. The room opened up into a tremendous open space. They were in a massive garden of greenery and lush plants. The ceiling cascaded with light, feeding the foliage below. The small spa fed a large spring in the center of the room. In the middle of the spring was a large, granite pedestal with a glass box sitting atop it. A small bridge led from the side of the pool to the pedestal. They were drawn to the glass box and the item encased within. Rolf and Luna walked carefully on the small bridge, all thoughts of Snorkacks gone. They walked up to the glass and peered inside. The object of their attention was a sword, long and silvery with a golden hilt encrusted with shimmering rare gems. The blade was bright and shiny and the cross guard was engraved with a single word. Rolf looked furtively at his wife and then back to the sword. His eyes fixated on the on the word on the hilt. The letters were flowing and beautiful and he smiled, despite the shock of finding it here. The word flowed across his lips. Durandal.

Chapter 284 The Battle of the Hogs Head Williamsons hand made and audible smacking sound as it met his forehead. He shook his head woefully and reached down and picked a chair up off the floor and set it upright. Then he dusted off the seat and settled down at the table. Dawlish raised the teapot to an empty cup and Eric nodded slightly, accepting the offer. As he stirred his sugar and cream into the tea, Eric glanced over at Arthur. I think youd better tell me what happened, Arthur. If I know Aberforth, we werent the only people he owled about this mess. I have a funny feeling that well be hearing from the ladies shortly and possibly the Daily Prophet. Am I right, Aberforth? The gruff older wizard nodded. Youre damn right I sent word out to the women. Theres no way Id get satisfaction from you Aurors. You protect your own. Then Aberforths eyes gleamed evilly. Besides, I cant wait until Hermione and Ginny get here and see the state their husbands are in. Eric turned back to Arthur and held up his hands. You see? So, out with it Arthur, what the blazes happened here? Arthur smiled wearily and then nodded. Well Eric, its been apparent to me a nd John here that something was happening to the fellows. I think the Templars were the tipping point, but it was like an Erumpent Horn waiting to explode. Something was broken and we wanted to get it out in the open. We

took a hard look at things and I enlisted Dudley, George and Lee to help us with unraveling what was buggering Harry, Ron and Sean. We had them come out to the Hogs Head for a party *** A low murmur greeted Harry as he entered the Hogs Head. Despite the fact that Hogsmeade as a whole was relatively deserted, the clientele that patronized the run down pub were not dissuaded from coming down the dank alley to the dark tavern run by its mysterious owner. Harry nodded his head towards that selfsame man behind the bar and sidled up to the bar and tapped the top with his index finger. Aberforth chortled and drew a pint of ale from a nearby tap and placed it in front of Harry who reached down and took a long pull from the frothy drink. Theyre upstairs, Harry. Aberforth muttered and bobbed his head towards the ramshackle set of stairs in the back corner of the room. Harry grabbed his mug by hits chipped handle and proceeded through the crowd of patrons, who deftly turned their backs on the senior Auror picking his way through their midst. The upside of being ignored by the nominally unsavory clientele was that nary a drop of Harrys ale was spilt as he made his way to the landing and proceeded up the risers. The second story room at the Hogs Head was usually reserved for private parties. Smaller than the main floor, it was a barren, open space with mismatched furniture arrayed in a haphazard fashion. During the Second Dark Lord War, the room had served as a way station and caretaker point for students and their families who were on the run, before Aberforth could get them into the Room of Requirement. Harrys memory harkened back to the garishly written invitation that had been slipped beneath his office door. Hed been invited to a party, and now he was to see who and what t he party was for. The floorboards creaked as he topped the last step and turned into the room. Oi, Harry! Here you are! Harry turned and slipped his hand over to George Weasley who was holding a mug of ale in his other hand. The tall, thin red head smiled warmly. Youre the last one, I think. Harry looked around and nodded. I should think so, theres no room anywhere. Harry was right, the room was filled with people. Here and there, he caught sight of familiar faces from the present and the past, men who hed come into contact with from time to time. He saw Dean standing in the corner, pestering Seamus about something or other, with Neville refereeing the engagement. Lee and Dudley seemed to be daring Oliver Wood to drink some sort of concoction that had been poured out an old leather boot and Oliver looked very much like he was going to take the dare. Dennis Creevey and Gavin Lockley had a crowd gathered around the fragile looking table they were seated at. Both men were facing each other, hands locked together as they tested their strength against one another. Their right biceps flexed and perspiration drained down their faces as they strained to push the other down. The crowd was roaring and placing bets. Harry was almost fully engrossed when he caught sight of a flash of red hair and spotted Ron in another corner of the room, talking to Bill and Charlie. Harry frowned and felt his thoughts wandering to the Ron and how moody his friend had seemed to be over the past few weeks. As Harry pondered the thought, a loud roar came from behind him and he saw the crowd milling around and cheering. Harry shook his head. He hadnt seen who had won. Okay, everyone, settle down please. Harry turned his head and spotted Arthur Weasley standing on top of a small crate in the middle of the room. The murmur in the room settled down and the crowd gathered around. Arthur held up his arms. I know everyone is wondering why we are here. Its a party, why else would we be here, Dad? Georges voice echoed through the room.

Arthur shook his head. Its a party, true, but we have a serious purpose for this gathering. Arthur looked around the room. We are having what the Muggles call an interception. Quite pleased with himself Arthur looked at the blank stares. Dudley walked up to Arthur and whispered in his ear. Arthur had a shocked look and then nodded. Im sorry, we are having an intervention. Arthur was still confronted with blank stares from the audience. Finally, Dudley spoke up. Who is the intervention for, Arthur? Why dont you just tell everyone. A hush came across the assembled crowd and Harry looked from side to side, trying to determine why they were there. Harry Potter! Harry started when Arthur called his name. Come forward, son. The crowd parted allowing Harry to step forward. He reached the front rank and stood near Arthurs box. His father-in-law ignored him and Harry waited as Arthur looked back at the crowd. You too, Ron Weasley and you as well, Sean Manchester. Equally as surprised as Harry, the other two named men walked up and stood next to Harry, albeit seemingly standing a little apart from Harry. Once theyd reached the center of the room, Arthur took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Gentlemen, an intervention is when friends recognize a glaring issue in people they care about and intercede to correct the problem. Arthur stretched out his hand and extended his index finger between the three men. You gentlemen have a huge problem. The old Ron seemed to bubble to the surface. What are you talking about? Who, me? Yes, you, Ron and you, Sean and you, Harry. In fact, it seems to many of us, that the problem may be that Ron and Sean have an issue with Harry and that is the prob lem. Arthurs piercing gaze seemed to penetrate the men. I dont have a problem with Harry. Sean mumbled, while his head dropped to the floor. Neither do I. Rons head also drooped a bit. Arthur smiled thinly and allowed his eyes to penetrate both men. I see, I guess your recent spate of moodiness was a result of something else then? The sarcasm in Arthurs voice was readily apparent. You two have been sourpusses lately. George piped in drawing a seething leer from Ron. Weve all been under a lot of strain lately. Ron grumbled. Weve all been under a lot strain for over ten years, Ron. Its part of the job. Dennis added. Sean couldnt restrain himself. Yeah, but isnt it convenient how much trouble follows our Chosen One? Arthur turned his head towards Manchester and nodded. You think Harry is responsible for our stress, or for something else? Who are you really talking about, Sean? You know what Im talking about, Arthur. Everyone seems to pay the price while H arry gets off scott free. He doesnt pay. Not like the rest of us do. Not like Carter did and not like she did. Who paid, Sean? The voice that asked the question was behind him. Sean recognized it, but still answered. He pointed an accusatory finger at Harry. Gwens dead because of him, because of his adventuring. Sean said.

I thought you loved my sister. The voice that had asked the question belonged to Gavin Lockley. The large sailor walked up to Sean and stood in front of him. With all my heart, and he took her away from me. Gavin glanced at Harry and then back at Sean. As I recall, she died helping Bill and she was killed by a minotaur. Harry wasnt even there. Sean shook his head. It doesnt matter. He set the tone, all hi gh and mighty, taking us on his crusades. Hes out to kill us all, just like she was killed. Gavin thrust a finger into the center of Seans chest. Then you didnt love my sister, did you. What do you mean? I accept that my sister died in the line of duty, doing a job she loved. She could no more stay at home and knit mittens than she would want to wield a cutlass. How dare you demean her sacrifice by blaming Harry? Either you didnt know her as well as you thought, or youre just wallowing in self-pity, which is it? Gavin crossed his arms in front of his chest and stared Sean down. Sean shook from the recrimination and Lockley leaned forward. The worst thing you can do is make my sister out to be some victim, when she was hardly that. You coward. The room echoed from the silence as Gavins words sunk in. It was at that time a loud bustle of noise came from the stairs. Well, well, wellwe heard there was party, but looks like its nothing more than an Auror sewing circle. A party of twenty or so rough and tumble characters, wearing sailors uniforms were at the entrance. The largest, a rough looking specimen with a cratered face and black eyes turned back to his compatriots. Here we are thinking wed crash a good drinking binge and all I see are tea and crumpets. Harry shook himself from the shock of the previous exchange and walked up to the leader. Listen guys, this is a private party. Why dont you go on downstairs and have a round on me? Well if it isnt the great Harry Potter himself? The head trouble maker turned and stood, towering over Harry. We dont want any drinks downstairs. Why dont you and your ladyfolk from the Ministry go ahead and give up the room to us real men? He pushed Harry backward. Harry took a deep breath and looked back. The argument had been long forgotten, as they settled up behind him. I dont want any trouble. The overhand fist that sailed through the air and connected with his jaw told him that the intentions of the new arrivals was exactly the opposite. As Harry careened through air, all thoughts of irritation with Harry seemingly disappeared as the friends closed with the drunken men. When young, wizards tend to find out about their magical abilities by accident. Typically, they do not have a wand to direct their efforts and the accidentally let fly spells in response to environmental stimuli. A brawl with bare fists had a tendency to bring out accidental discharges of magic. Such was the case when a short sailor connected a punch to Rons midsection. A stream of water emanated from this fist and sent Ron crashing through the floor to the room below. Of course, that extended an invitation to the rest of the bars patrons to join the fun.

Aberforth began shouting at the top of his lungs, trying to keep the combatants from destroying his establishment. The melee was joined, well past his ability to control it. In a far corner, John Dawlish and Arthur Weasley watched the action, suspiciously satisfied grins on their faces. The battle continued unabated and the Aurors, much to Arthurs delight, were getting the worst of it. He turned to Dawlish and smiled. Sometimes you need to get your backside kicked to solve a problem and from the looks of things, our problems are definitely getting solved. Still skeptical, the Minister of Magic simply nodded. *** Eric Williamson shook his head. I wonder what would have happened if those sailors hadnt shown up? Arthur smiled. Indeed, it was fortuitous that they were there. Of course, what do you expect in a place like the Hogs Head? I heard that. Aberforth called out and then leaned over a batter broom, sweeping up some broken crockery. The front door opened and a robed figure entered, brushing off the fresh snow on his shoulders. The new arrival casually tossed off his hood and looked over where Arthur was seated and approached. Erics eyes opened wide as he recognized the platinum hair and roguish glare of Draco Malfoy. Well, Minister, good to see you. Draco nodded his head to Dawlish and then he stared at Arthur. Well, did it work the way you planned it? Better. Arthur smiled. He reached into his pocket and drew out a small leather pouch. It jingled as if full of coins. Please tell your men that I appreciate their timing. It was impeccable. He tossed the bag to Draco. The owner of Draco Import and Export and the master of well over thirty sailing ships, all crewed by sailors in his employ laughed out loud. You know, they would have all done i t for free to get a chance at some Aurors. Arthur nodded. I dont doubt it, but they earned it nonetheless. Eric shook his head and shared an incredulous look with Silas. Arthur, you are an evil man. You sure know how to cause trouble. Arthur Weasley laughed. I am a conniver, that is true, but as far as trouble is concerned, I believe we are about to get a lesson in that subject, right about now. Just then, the door opened again revealing a group of concerned women. Leading them was a woman with chestnut hair and another with dark red hair. Both women took in the scene and then the woman who was the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement cried out. Ronald Bilius Weasley, you had better have a good explanation for all this. Arthur grasped Dawlishs wrist. You see what I mean about trouble? Chapter 285 Papiliondae Durandalis

The atrium of the Ministry of Magic was configured for the event. A small raised stage with a minimal podium was draped in the flags of the Royal Society for the Preservation of Magical Creatures while the crowd gathered echoed in a dull murmur of activity. Rolf looked across the heads of the assembled press and academics whod gathered to hear his presentation. The crowd was larger than normal, whic h surprised Rolf. The last nargle expedition hed been on had yielded the discovery of a new breed of earthworm whose saliva elevated the height on levitation charms when the magic user drank it. The associated conference for that revelation had not brought out this many people. He shook his head slightly and eased his hand into Lunas. She was gazing upward into the air, her gray eyes twinkling in the overhead light. Rolf smiled to himself. After all these years together, he didnt know if he believed in the creatures she talked about. Hed never seen a nargle or Crumple -horned Snorkack, yet he was also unsure as to whether he could totally disprove their existence either. At the center of everything, was the simple concept of faith. Rolf was reasonably certain that his wife had never, ever seen a Nargle, either, but she believed with a certainty that could only be attributed to unquestionable faith, which was a rare quality among wizards, who had been jaded by decades of pain and suffering. So, Rolf followed his wife across the globe on their quest for magical and mystical beings. Every sojourn had resulted in a discovery. Rolf was now engaged in the family business, keeping his grandfathers guide to magical beasts up to date and revised, mostly with the creatures he discovered on his travels with Luna. The last trip had been no different, the journey to the tip of Scotland and the adventure in the cavern had led to a wondrous discovery. Rolf had lifted the lid off the glass cabinet and lifted the sword from its resting place. As he stared at the bright blade, a fluttering motion passed his eye sight. Luna gasped in delight and pointed excitedly at a brightly colored flurry buzzing around the room. Oooh, a Nargle! Lunas lyrical tone echoed in delight. The sword fell to his side as Rolfs eyes followed hers. There was a pair of red and lavender wings fluttering excitedly in the air. He smiled. No, its a butterfly! Rolf followed behind the excitedly flying insect and held out his hand. The butterfly alit on his palm. He gazed at and then jumped back as a tiny bolt of lightning sprang from the beautiful creature and landed near his feet. I would say that qualifies it as a magical creature. Ive never seen anything like it, have you? Rolf asked. Luna didnt seem disappointed that it wasnt a Nargle, and she shook her head. She reached into her pocket and pulled a working copy of their field guide, flipping through the pages to see if this butterfly could be identified. She found none. Rolf shook his head. Another Nargle hunt had resulted in a discovery. *** Rolf rose to the podium and the crowd became hushed as he levitated a glass jar in front of him. Papiliondae Durandalis! We are excited to present a brand new species of magical butterfly, discovered by my wife and I. As you can see, it is marked by bright red and lavender markings and highlighted by a powerful lightning burst. He charmed the lid off the jar and the butterfly flew out, emitting an excited bolt of energy. Rolf smiled. This marks the twenty fifth new species weve identified. Well now take questions. Immediately, the crowd raised their hands and started shouting, taking Rolf by surprise. Hed never thought a butterfly would generate such excitement. He was wrong. The crowd wasnt here for the butterfly. A large reporter from the Daily Prophet elbowed his way forward.

Marcus Quimby, Daily Prophet, Mr. Scamander, did you find the sword of Roland, Durandal? The man held a quill to a pad and waited for Rolf to answer. Rolf seemed honestly surprised by the question. Well, yes, I think so. Thats the name that was on the sword. Another reporter stepped forward, Arent you in the least bit interested in that discovery? Where is the sword now? The tenor was starting to change, and Rolf was amazed at the interest in the sword. I dont think the sword was important a discovery as the butterfly. I mean the swords importance is more historical than anything else. It didnt seem to have any magical qualities. We were planning to turn it over to the Ministry for safekeeping. The first reporter scowled. You cant be serious. What are you hiding? What did you really find in that cavern? Why havent you told anyone where the cavern is and why are you being so cavalier about the sword? Im not being cavalier. Its a sword! It has a blade, a hilt and some jewels. Surely you can see the importance of the butterfly. Rolf felt an uneasy feeling in his stomach. He was a naturis t, not a fortune hunter, but the nature of the questions seemed to point to something else. The second reporter snorted. Dont be so smug, Mr. Scamander. You mean to tell me that the only thing you found was a useless sword and a bug that shoots lightning from its butt? Rolf cleared his throat. Um, well, yes. I wouldnt put it that way. Creatures that can spontaneously emit a static electrical discharge are very rare. This is an extraordinary find. Mr. Scamander, is it your intent to withhold the extent of your real discovery? The reporters would not relent. Rolf felt his collar constricting. I have told you the real discovery. I dont know what youre talking about. The reporter laughed out loud. You mean to tell me that you really dont know what finding Durandal means? Rolf shook his head, unable to respond, and confused at the level of vitriol spilling from the questioner. The reporter slapped the cover down on his notebook. Everyone knows what Durandal is, besides being the sword of Roland. Whats that? Rolf asked. The reporter eyed him closely. Its the key to finding Charlemagnes Treasure. *** Rolf took a sip of water from his glass and felt Lunas hand in his own. The heavy feeling in his chest had lightened and he was grateful that Harry had finally rescued him from the mob. The glass jar with the butterfly and Durandal sat atop Harrys cluttered desk. Harry himself reentered the office, followed closely by Ron, Sean, Eric and Mortimer, his team leaders. Rolf smiled up at Harry.

Thanks for the assist, Harry. I had no idea that things would get so rough. Rolf sighed and then noticed the rather large black eye Harry was sporting, as were the numerous bruises on Rons face and the limp that Sean exhibited. Rolf didnt comment on their appearance. The same could not be said for Luna. You look like you got the worst of whatever fight you all got into. Luna commented. Ron flushed. You should see the other fellow. Harry nodded. Anyway, it looks like you had quite an adventure. Thats the thing, Harry. There was nothing remarkable about the cavern and the sword, well look for yourself, its just a sword. I dont know anything about any treasure. Rolf quipped. I dont either, but Ive been checking it out. I dont have the full story, but apparently, theres a legend tying Roland, Charlemagne, the sword and a thief to all the riches that the emperor had amassed during his lifetime. Harry lifted the sword from his desk and held it up. It was surprisingly light, and fit much better in his hand than the sword of Godric Gryffindor. Of course, hed wielded that sword as a boy and he was confronting a basilisk at the time. Rolf had been right, there was nothing discernibly magical about the sword. Mortimer looked up. Well, the treasure is supposed to have some very powerful magical talismans. He was very interested in amassing the most powerful magical items to keep his reign going. Harry nodded and noticed Rolfs shocked look. Its okay, Rolf. Its not your fault. The slim man smiled wearily. Im just interested in nature. I didnt see anything that pointed some great treasure being there. Harry nodded and then looked around the room. That being said, we may have to take a hard look at finding this cache, before people start a frenzy. Harry turned and glanced at Ron and Sean, mindful that he take their thoughts into account. Ron shrugged his shoulders. It sounds interesting. Sean nodded in agreement. Harry nodded and then turned to Rolf. Im afraid Im going to have to ask you to take us to this cave you found. That seems to be the logical place to start. Rolf nodded. When do we go? Harry thought for a moment. I think we need to do some research and see w hat we are looking for. Then I need to identify the team thats going to follow this up. Lets say well go in about a week. Until that time, well keep the sword here, if you dont mind. Not at all, if what youre saying is true, every lunatic around will want that sword. Rolf averred. Mortimer cleared his throat. Harry? I think we should keep the butterfly. Why is that necessary? Rolf asked crossly. Mortimer frowned. Im sorry Rolf, but you found it with the sword. It may be related to the sword. You were in the middle of a frozen tundra in a manmade chamber. Its magic may be related to the search.

Hes right, Rolf, Im sorry. Harrys words didnt reassure the man. Youll have full access while its here. You are the preeminent expert on magical creatures. Except for Hagrid. Ron interjected and then clamped his mouth shut at a look from Harry. Harry continued. You know better than anyone else about these creatures. You can help us find out if its naturally occurring or as a result of one of Charlemagnes treasures. Somewhat mollified, Rolf picked up the jar and tapped the side. The butterfly fluttered its wings and sent a small bolt of lightning towards his finger. *** The evergreens swayed in the winter wind as the figure moved through the wood across the snowy landscape. The woman moved lightly through the forest, gripping the paper in her hands as she made her way to her destination. She finally arrived to an open clearing in the wood and approached the man standing in the open. He was relatively short and thin, and despite the snow on the ground and the bitter cold, he feet were bare and he wore a tattered robe that was threadbare and covered with saplings and branches. His hair was stringy and long with bits of leaves and bark clinging to the ends. His face was dirty with soil and dust and his hands were dark, as if hed been digging in a mud bog. He gripped a gnarled wooden staff that was smoothed around the area that his hand touched. His eyes were a brilliant light green, covering the entire pupil and iris. He seemed to staring into the distance, eyes open but unaware of her approach. Master? Her voice shook from the cold. He snapped to reality and turned to face her. She extended the paper in her hand and he seethed through his teeth. She blushed from embarrassment. Im sorry. She unraveled the paper and held it out so that he could read it without touching it. It was as if the paper itself was poisonous. He smiled and cackled in delight. This is perfect. They have finally discovered Durandal. It brings us closer to our goal. She bowed her head. Yes master. What is your wish? First, remove that abomination from my sight and the presence of my brethren. She recoiled from the hate in his voice. She rolled up the copy of the Daily Prophet shed been holding and crammed it into her jacket pocket. Secondly, I have no doubt that those fools at the Ministry will attempt to recover the treasure for themselves. Well let them do the work and then take what is required. He held out his arms and took a deep breath, ignoring the bone-chilling cold. Then the world can be set aright and these mortals, these men, will pay the price of their gluttony. His cackles reverberated across the landscape, echoing into the night.. Chapter 286 Charlemagnes Secret The massive army began its trek into the Pyrenees, the soldiers marching with the heads to their chests while the general depression of defeat permeated the air. The mighty king sat atop of his massive war mount and watched the army file past on its way to relative safety in the south of France. Charlemagnes face was stoic, impassive, the weight of the defeat outside Pamplona not visible on his face. There was a traitor among them and he had a pretty good idea of who, yet he was not quite certain.

The sound of a horse struggling under the burden of accessing the rise he was perched on drew his attention. He turned and spied a knight astride a midnight black steed working his way upward. There was someone he was convinced of wasnt a traitor, that was Roland, his champion, the best of his mighty Paladins. Roland wore lustrous silver armor, his breastplate shining against the murky darkness of the clouds. Long strands of golden hair streamed down from beneath his helm and his wondrous sword, Durandal slapped the sides of the horse, sheathed in its scabbard. The sword had been a gift from Charlemagne to his champion, blessed by God and wielded with skill by the graciousness of its bearer. Roland finally reached his king and dipped his head low in deference. It is done, sire. The rich voice echoed from beneath his visor, dark piercing blue eyes radiated confidence and loyalty. Charlemagne nodded. No one knows? None but myself, and chief of staff, sire, and he is sworn to secrecy under God. Roland trusted his aide and Charlemagne trusted Roland. More hoof beats struck his ear as the vanguard of his leadership group ascended the heights and reached their king. Before they approached, Charlemagne gave Roland a quick glance, indicating that his knight keep his information confidential. Roland nodded slightly and then slipped his helm from his head and waited as the generals and counselors made their way to the summit. The leader was a tall, angular man with a full beard and brown eyes. He had a look of elegance and refinery and he wore his armor easily. He nodded to the king and then waved at Roland. My liege. Roland. Roland smiled deferentially. Good day, uncle. Ganelon, what news of the Basques? The man turned back to Charlemagne and shook his head. The news is grim, sire. We will not be able to get the bulk of our forces across the mountains proper quick enough. The Basques are pressing us with great vigor. Ganelon said grimly. Charlemagne nodded and studied the terrain. We must get the army back into France. We need to delay the enemy a short while. Ganelon looked slyly at Roland and unnoticed, smiled as if a great plan were coming to pla y. Sire, I have a suggestion. Charlemagne looked over at his vassal and waited patiently. The Roncevaux Pass should afford a rear guard of Paladins an opportunity to delay the Basques advance long enough for the army to get away. The only question is who should lead the force. Roland straightened in his saddle. Sire, my men and I request the honor of such a task. Ganelon seemed strangely pleased by his nephews offer and nodded to his king. Sire, my nephew is more than capable of the task. The pass is small and his force is the best equipped to hold it and get away. Charlemagne remembered narrow opening that led across the Pyrenees. There was only one way in and Roland should be able to hold it. Slowly, the king nodded. Make it so. His retinue bowed as one, and then turned to leave. The king held up his hand. Roland, stay a moment. The knight stopped his mount and waited for the others to leave. Hand me Durandal, Roland. Hand me your sword. Roland drew the mighty blade and reversed it in his hand, presenting the pommel to the king. Deftly, the king tapped several of the stones and then twisted the end of the handle, revealing an empty, secret compartment.

I trust you have completed your task to the letter of my instructions? Charlemagne asked. Yes, sire. We omitted nothing. Roland responded. The king grunted and then pulled a small scroll of parchment and placed it in hilt. Then he replaced the cap and secured the sword. With one last fleeting motion, he removed one of the locking gems, a large ruby, from the sword and returned it to the knight. Now, the secret of is hidden within your sword and I have kept the keystone to reveal the hiding place of the treasure. Charlemagne seemed pleased with the outcome. Make haste with your preparations, Roland and mind that you watch for treachery, I fear that something is amiss. Roland nodded and headed off to lead his men. *** As Charlemagne suspected, there was a traitor in his ranks. It was a man driven more by envy than by philosophy. Ganelon had been a loyal servant to Charlemagne, but was jealous of the attention and riches paid to his nephew, Roland. Hed seen the defeat in front of Pamplona as an opportunity to be rid of his nephew, so he sent a note to the enemys commander, telling of a small back route that would allow the Basques to catch Rolands army in a vise. Ganelon smiled inwardly. With Roland gone, Ganelon would once again be first among Charlemagnes Paladins. It was long rumored that the king trusted his first knight with more than just loyalty and homage. In fact, the first knight was also entrusted with guarding the location of the kings most precious treasures. There were legends about the wealth and the magic of the items kept in the mysterious vault. Only the king and his champion were privy that knowledge. With Roland gone, Ganelon would have the knowledge, and as for the king? Well, Ganelon thought, accidents do happen. *** Charlemagne watched his vanguard pass through the mountains and into the verdant fields of southern France. The rider came towards him at a full gallop and for a moment, his bodyguards flinched suspiciously until the king held up his hand. The rider was someone he recognized, a squire from Rolands retinue. The squire was a young teen and his face was grimy and flushed with pain and fear. He drew back the reigns of his horse and skid to a stop before the king. Sire! We are betrayed! The Basques were shown a passage in the mountains and ambushed th e rear guard! The boy was out of breath and the king bade him to take his time with his report. Slow down, now tell me, what of the rear guard? How many have survived the treachery? The squire stared at his king and shook his head. Sire, there is no one but me. I am the only survivor. The boy was on the verge of tears. My lord Roland fought to open a hole in the enemys lines so that I may carry the news to your ears, but he fell as I passed through. No one came out of the battle. Charlemagne pursed his lips. There is no doubt that they were betrayed? No sire, no doubt, those were my Lord Rolands words. There was no way for the enemy to know our dispositions and to ambush us. We were betrayed. Charlemagne nodded slowly and closed his eyes in a silent prayer for his friend. He turned to the captain of his bodyguard. Arrest Lord Ganelon on suspicion of treason. The muted man nodded and waited as his king held up his hand. Find Elbegast and send him to me.

*** Elbegast was a small man who walked with a slight hunch in his back. His clothes were mere tatters of rags that draped over his skeletal frame. His skin was pulled tight over this frame and he had dark gray eyes that seemed to flit from place to place, like those of a caged animal. His physical shortcomings caused onlookers to overlook the cat-like grace with which he moved. Despite his outward appearance, Elbegast was one of the most accomplished thieves in the known world and he owed his life to the king. You wanted to see me sire? His voice was high pitched and reedy, while whispery quiet. He was more attuned to living in the shadows, than being out in the light of day, like he was today. Yes, Elbegast. It is now time for you to repay your debt to me. I have two tasks for you. Either may see your demise, but rest assured, succeed and you will be a free man. Charlemagne watched the career criminal process his words. Finally, the rumpled man smiled. What is your bidding, my lord? Charlemagne reached to his belt and withdrew a rolled up scroll and a small leather bag. First, you must return to Roncevaux Pass and retrieve Lord Rolands sword. You must hide that sword in the place I have described in this letter. Be mindful, the pass is now in the hands of the enemy. Elbegast shrugged. That should be no matter, my lord. I thought not, but after you place the sword where I tell you, I have another item you must sequester away from world. No one, especially the Saxons must know where you a re putting it. Youre instructions are on the parchment as well. Do not fail me, Elbegast. You do not want to risk eternal damnation by failing. I will not fail, my lord. Charlemagne nodded and handed the items to the small man. Elbegast nodded and stole off into the din of the retreating army. The king watched him disappear into the masses of humanity and then bade his captain over. Now, Captain, let us go deal with Lord Ganelon. *** Rons face was contorted into a look of confusion and wonder. The story of the sword was interesting, but as he looked at the weapon resting on the conference room table, a question hovered in the back of his mind. Well, if the location of the treasure is in the sword, why do we have to go some Merlin -forsaken ice hole? Cant we get the answer from the sword itself? Ron looked around the table and saw most of the people in the meeting agreed with his assessment. Harry, Sean and Hermione nodded while Mortimer and Williamson shared a quick glance. Kingsley Shacklebolt stood at the front of the table, after having delivered the report from his study of the writings in the Hogwarts Library. Rolf and Luna smiled at each other and Rolf nodded. It would make sense, I suppose, but I guess it depends on what was in the leather bag Charlemagne gave his thief. Rolf said. Thats the easy part, I suppose and the reason why the sword is not enough. Luna smiled at the group and reached to the center of the table and lifted the sword. It seemed surprisingly light and she easily flipped the blade around and displayed the hilt. She pointed to a spot where it seemed a gem was missing. You cant open the swords secrets without the ruby and thats what was in the bag he gave

Elbegast. She looked around the room and smiled dreamily. We have to go back, because Elbegast probably hid the clue to the where he hid the ruby there. Silence hung over the room as they thought about Lunas observation. Harry laughed to himself. After all these years, Luna was gifted with surprising bouts of clarity. Ron, however, still seemed a bit confused. Speak your mind, Ron. Now is the time. Harry declared. Ron sighed. Well, Harry, the last time we went wandering around looking for buried treasure, we ended up getting people killed, among other things. I guess my question is should we go through all this just to recover some trinkets? Harry looked over at the corner of the room where John Dawlish and Percy Weasley were sitting. Ron has a good point, why would we do this? We have a lot of things to take care of. Dawlish stood and cleared his throat and gestured to Percy. Normally, we wouldnt really give the go ahead on this, especially considering the points that Ron makes. He glanced at Ron and then continued. But, Professor Shacklebolt has found something that makes this a bit more interesting. Kingsley stood up and opened a large, leather bound book. Charlemagne ruled for quite some time and he was a very religious king. Most of his wars were those of conversion. One of the groups he converted was the Saxons. He pretty much converted the whole group. Okay, that was almost twelve hundred years ago, I think the statute of limitations has passed. Whats that mean for us? Sean asked impatiently. Kingsley ignored the interruption and continued. You remember that the Saxons were conquered by the Normans during the Battle of Hastings? Everyone in the room was a veteran of the war with the International Confederation of Wizards. Many of the pure blooded families were descendents of the survivors of the Anglo-Saxon residents of the Isles. In fact, the original founders of Hogwarts had survived the Norman invasion. Kingsley continued. Well, when Charlemagne converted the Saxons, he had to overthrow the magic users who led them and replace them with the magic users who we now know as our ancestors. Kingsley watched as his words took hold. Hermione was the first to respond. What do you mean? I thought magic was universal. Didnt he just repla ce one set of wizards with another? She asked. No, Hermione, its not that simple. The Saxons were guided by an entirely different set of magical principles and their wizards did not conform to our notion of magic. In fact, they were entirely different. Kingsley responded. In what way? Ron interjected. Who were they? Luna smiled and spoke up. They were Druids. They practiced the magic of nature. The room grew silent. Harry looked over at Luna. How do you know that, Luna? The pale woman smiled faintly at Harry. Its quite simple, you know. Druids were very adept at seeing and recognizing magical creatures that were very difficult to see and much more difficult to understand.

Like Nargles? Rolf added, without any hint of con descension or mocking. Luna smiled brightly. Precisely. Dawlish cleared his throat. Charlemagne was able to overthrow the Druids by taking whatever was the source of their power away from them. We dont know what it is, but there is a clear indicat ion that whatever it was may be cached with his treasure. Its a source of magic completely foreign to what we know. For that reason alone, its worth investigation. The room grew silent again. Finally, Ron stood up. Well, I guess wed better be at it. Although, I simply cant stand the cold. Rolf, it isnt going to be that cold, is it? Rolf shrugged. Its pretty cold, Ron. Wonderful. Ron turned to Harry. Next time, I want to go on the Bahamas quest. Chapter 287 Elbegasts Secret I knew it would be cold. Rolf and Luna had said as much, and yet when we apparated to the center of the small, abandoned village, nothing prepared me for the feeling of the wind literally cutting through my protective gear and penetrating my skin. The radiating chill moved down my spine and I watched as Harry collected the team together for the hike up to the hidden spot where Rolf and Luna had found the sword. When wed done the planning for this mission, I was pretty sure that using our brooms to navigat e the several miles or so over the rough terrain would have been the call, but Rolf had quickly convinced Harry and the rest that it would be inadvisable and the conditions justified his opinion. It was late winter in the upper northern reaches of the British Isles. A billowing wind and blizzard-like conditions dominated the landscape. There would have been no way for any of us to stay together through the snow while mounted on brooms. The only recourse left to us was to walk, much to my chagrin. I watched as the members of the party began cinching up backpacks over our survival gear. Despite the thickness of the Goretex outer layer, I could feel the coolness of the subzero temperatures on my skin. Dennis made short work of inspecting my kit and I returned the favor. Sean and Kingsley checked each others load outs, likewise Silas and Mortimer and Harry and the Scamanders. Wed decided on a small team. It was just like Harry to frontload the expedition with more Aurors than researchers. It was like he was expecting trouble. I turned and nodded to Dennis. Despite the wrap covering his face, and the goggles over his eyes, I could tell he was smiling. Merlin! He loved these sojourns into adventure. He looked over at me and shouted through the roar of the wind and the protective covering of his mask. Ive been itching for some excitement, Ron. Im sure glad this came along! He clapped me on the back of the shoulder, nearly sending me careening forward from the force. I steadied myself and simply nodded, knowing the effort of grumbling would be wasted. Adventure, indeed, Dennis should know better. There was nothing remotely exciting about adventure. I was here because Harry trusted me and I was good in a fight. Through the years, both of those abilities found themselves in desperate need whenever we went about. Up ahead, Harry raised his arms and pointed to a length of rope coiled on the ground in front of him. If he spoke, I could not hear him, but soon enough the rope came alive and wrapped itself around each of our waists. Soon we were connected in one long chain. Rolf was first, then Harry, Luna, Kingsley, Sean, Mortimer, Silas and finally Dennis and I brought up the rear. Given the weather, it was a sensible precaution and I shook my head wondering if I would have had the presence of mind to think of it myself.

Soon we were off and it was almost immediately apparent how much the small buildings of the tiny village had protected us from the elements. The gale force winds struck us like a boxers roundhouse, forcing my knees to buckle slightly. I felt the strong grip of Dennis hands grasp me by the shoulders to steady me. I waved at him in thanks and proceeded to follow the rest of the team into the open country. On the maps we studied, the actual linear distance between the village and the hills where we were headed didnt seem to be far, no more than three miles or so. Our progress was slow, as we slogged through a foot of newly fallen, loose snow. In some places, our little caravan would fall up to our hips. To make matters worse, we were walking directly into the wind, which was plugging at us at speeds near thirty kilometers per hour. I couldnt tell if the sun was out. It wasnt fully dark, nor was it really light . It was just gray. The setting was quite depressing. We slogged our way until we reached the base of a large hill. I watched as Rolf took a quick look back at Luna who nodded and pointed upwards, naturally, towards the hardest looking portion of the climb. Soon we were ascending up the spine of the ridge, the wind driving at us from both the left and the right. Despite the conditions, I marveled at how Luna, tiny as she was, managed to keep up with the progress of the rest. She had a tendency to lose focus and seem flighty, yet she was always steady in times of peril and crisis. I considered her devotion to her family and to Harry. When things got to their worst, she seemed the most stable; the most calm. More than once, I saw her reach forward and keep Harry from tottering over the side of the hill, and falling down into the valley, taking us with him. Rolf was just as determined. I was sure that years of orienteering in all climates had made the pair much more acclimated to these outdoor conditions than we were. We trekked for what seemed like days, yet it couldnt be more than a few hours. Eventually, we came to a stop and Rolf pointed excitedly to a notch in the hillside which opened to a small tunnel. Spurred on by the prospect of getting out of the wind, we pushed through hastily until we were all within the confines of the passage. Harry raised his hands and the safety rope fell from our hips. He peeled the muffler from his face and looked around. Is everyone all right? He asked, his eyes taking everyone in. You mean beyond the fact that I cant feel anything beneath my neck and Ill be frozen for the next thirty years? I couldnt help myself. Sometime the words just came out. I was cold, after all. Sean snorted and smiled. Some people might say that you cant feel anything above your neck, either. What did Sean know? He was short, so the wind obviously had lesser effect on him. I decided to ignore him and it seemed that Harry ignored us both. Hed already started fo llowing Rolf down the passage. I brushed off the scattered snow on my shoulders and held my wand up in my gloved hand so its light could add to the others. Feeling Dennis crowding behind me, I pushed forward. *** Hermione and I had discussed this mission closely. I could tell that shed wished she could come with us, but her duties at the Ministry and the fact that it might be interpreted as her playing favorites had stopped her from coming. Politics seemed to be factoring more and more into her job, and I could tell she was not happy with that prospect. Part of me wished that she was here with us. She was the brightest of us all and I knew shed figure out any mystery we ran into. Of course, I am a little biased and Merlin knew that I hated being away from her for any amount of time. Still, the fact that she wasnt coming didnt keep her from lecturing me on all things Charlemagne or Roland. Shed found some remote text here and there that helped outline the life of the king. From my perspective, I thought our time would be better spent studying the thief, Elbegast, since he was the one that hid the sword and the ruby. I think I surprised Hermione with that bit of thinking. Its funny that I still surp rise her, after all these years.

Elbegast had been a stranger to Charlemagnes domain. Although he was a great thief, Roland had managed to catch him in the act of pilfering a church. Hed thought hed wallow away his days in a dungeon until Charlemagne himself had come to him. Apparently, an angel had commanded the king to steal back something that had been stolen from his people. Ill give Charlemagne some credit, he wasnt so overwhelmingly full of himself that he didnt know when he was out of his depth. He commissioned Elbegast to perform the task. Elbegast could have simply disappeared into the night, but he was so astonished and impressed by the kings trust that he performed the job and then swore his loyalty to the king. The result was that when the king wanted to hide his greatest treasure, the thief was ready to do it. Thats what led me to where I was now, walking blindly inside of a mountain in the dead of winter. Come to think of it, I was beginning to feel hot. Rolf had mentioned that the cave had some sort of heating source and I was sweating underneath my protective clothing. Harry seemed to be feeling the same way and he called us to halt in one of the larger alcoves. How much farther, Rolf? Harry asked. The slender naturalist smiled and pointed down the passage way. Weve got a good hour or so. Rolf responded. Harry nodded. Okay, everyone, if I recall, its going to get a bit warmer here. I suggest we leave our survival gear here so that we can be a bit more comfortable. Leave it to Harry to think of the de tails. I took off my gloves and parka and piled them on the ground near the wall. Feeling a bit more comfortable, we continued onward. A professional edge settled on the team as we sensed that we were nearing the chamber. The chatter dissipated and a sense of anticipation hovered in the air, like a fog. Soon we entered the room that Rolf and Luna had found Durandal and I was suitably impressed. This is it? All that work and this is all thats here? My voice echoed off the walls. The center of the room held a dais and a glass box which Rolf had closed once hed drawn the sword out. The room was empty and blank. There were no etchings or writings. There werent pictures or carvings, just a plain stone table with a clear glass box. Whatd you expect, Ron? Sean asked me, but obviously he was as annoyed as I was. I dont know, maybe a great big arrow on the floor or a map with a giant X on it. It wouldnt have hurt for the ancients to leave a clue behind. Why did everything have to be a mystery? Mortimer had been studying the support and its case. He turned to Rolf. How was the sword situated in the box? Rolf drew the sword from his rucksack and placed it within the box. Mortimer nodded and then looked along the wall that aligned with the sword. I guess Ron was right. What do you mean I was right? There seemed to be a lot of Hermione in Mortimer, a lot of brains and not a whole lot of explanation. Mortimer pointed to the wall. Elbegast left an arrow and X does mark the spot. I looked down and from the way the sword sat in the case, it formed and arrow head with the stone dais beneath it. It pointed to the far wall where through some trick of the light and shadow on the sword and box, an X formed on a spot near the bottom of the wall.

Harry stared at me, marveling at my discovery. Of course, I knew it was all just luck. In our business, luck played an essential role. I was sure to point that fact out to my companions. See, I knew it all the time. You guys always miss the obvious. Okay, so I didnt let them off the hook, but I was hungry and no one had thought about taking a break for lunch. Harry knelt where the spot on the wall was and felt around the area with the mark. He pressed the stone wall around the shadow and it gave way. The corner of the room rumbled, revealing a passage to another room. This one was dressed up with maps and paintings, made in great detail. It was a map of the Continent from almost fifteen hundred years ago. Like the sword room, light seemed to emanate from the walls themselves. We walked into the room and studied the walls. Two whole walls were dominated by maps. One wall showed Spain and France and highlighted the place where Roland was betrayed. The other wall showed Eastern Europe. The detail was astonishing, with rivers and mountains meticulously displayed. Still, there wasnt a big mark that said the ruby is HERE! There was a picture of a woman riding on a stag on the third wall. The reins were snakes and she held a bow and arrow in her hands. She was aiming at a red figure that looked like a devil and he had an arrow protruding from his neck. What is this all about? I asked. Harry shook his head and looked over at the brain trust, Kingsley and Mortimer. They shrugged their shoulders and looked outward with confused expressions. Rolf and Luna, however, were smiling broadly. What give, you two? I asked. They were an odd pair. I know where we have to go. Rolf said confidently. Oh yeah, where? Bulgaria. He said. I looked at them and then looked at the picture. Back at them and then back at the picture. Finally, I threw up my hands. Okay, Ill bite. Why Bulgaria? The others looked at Luna and Rolf and nodded. Luna smiled. Were supposed to go to the Devils Throat. What in blazes is the Devils Throat? Sean grumbled. Rolf laughed. He pointed at the woman. That is a samodiva, a wood nymph from Bulgaria. She is shooting the devil in the throat, meaning the Devils Throat. He saw our confusion and explained further. Its a cave with a waterfall in front of it at the bottom of a gorge in the Rhodopi Mountains. Thats got to be where Elbegast hid the stone. Sean looked over at me. Dont you know someone in Bulgaria? Of course I did. Charlie was there with Billie Tunstall. Thats obviously who Sean meant. Of course I could be wrong. Sean snapped his fingers. Viktor Krum! Hes a bigshot over there. Wait, didnt he date Hermione?

I nodded my head grudgingly. I had forgotten about Krum and the Triwizard Tournament had been years ago. Sean, apparently, didnt want to let things so. I bet we could get Hermione to come with us. Maybe she wouldnt mind seeing her old friend. He said cheerfully. Before I could offer a response, Harry interjected, obviously unaware of how close Sean had come to being turned into a slug. Well, thats the place to start. Our next stop is Bulgaria. Oh joy, I could hardly wait. Chapter 288 Redirection The Ministry of Magic was a hive of activity, the central atrium thick with magical creatures of all species milling around conducting business. In the long hallway where the floo reception area stood, the comings and goings of the wizarding population demonstrated the how much life had changed since the destruction of the Dark Lords reign. Everyone coming to the Ministry had to pass through this hall. Whether by floo, apparition or through the visitors entrance, all entries and exits were through this narrow hall with the stoic visage of Mr. Munch standing by the entrance, watching everyone come and go. Hed noticed the thin man standing by the floo entrance. He was short and rather shabbily dressed, holding and battered fedora in his hands, wringing the brim. He looked as if he were waiting for someone, and hed been there for a few hours, almost since the beginning of the morning. Munch shrugged his shoulders. He had enough to worry about than some featureless loiterer who was not bothering anyone. A louder bang than usual signaled the arrival of a large party apparition in the reception area. Harry and his search party quickly doffed their winter clothing and shook the remnants of the snow from their shoulders. The waiting mans face brightened as he recognized Harry. He stepped forward. Mr. Potter? His voice was quiet and hushed and Harry didnt hear him. Instead, a louder voice echoed through the room. Harry! Eric Williamson walked up, inadvertently brushing by the man. Harry turned and met Williamson. The Minister needs to see you, right away. The senior Auror pointed out towards the gleaming rows of glass that highlighted the atrium. Were still in the middle of this Charlemagne thing. Harry responded. Eric nodded. He says you should turn that over to Mortimer and let him and Silas handle it with the Scamanders. Apparently, its dropped in priority. Harry nodded and waved to Mortimer and then looked back at Williamson. Whats this all about? I havent a clue, but he did say it was urgent. Williamson stumbled over the man, whod walked up behind him. Hey, mind where youre going. Harry stepped forward and helped the man up. Are you all right, sir?

The man seemed flustered, but unhurt. He looked up and caught Harrys gaze on him and stuttered. Mr. Potter, I was hoping to speak with you. He looked around cautiously. Its very important. Harry stopped, but Williamson tugged at his shoulder. Harry, the Minister said it was urgent. Ron stepped forward and placed a reassuring hand on the mans shoulder. Dont worry Harry, Ill see what this fellow wants. Harry took one last look at the forlorn man and allowed Williamson to drag him further into the crowd. Ron watched his friends back disappear into the th rong and then escorted the man to a corner of the receiving area that held a bench. The small nook was away from the main floo reception point and had a bit more space to maneuver. Sean Manchester followed Ron and the man to the spot and folded his arms as Ron helped the man sit down. There you go, now, sir, what seems to be the problem? Ron asked. The mans eyes were sunken deep within his head. His hair was awry and he had worry lines cascading down his face. His pupils flitted from side to side as if he were anxious about some danger or imminent catastrophe. Slowly losing patience, Ron hid his irritation and prompted the man further. Sir, I cant help you if you dont tell me what the problem is. The mans eyes fixed on Ron, as if realizing his presence for the first time. I dont know if anyone can help me. You see, I think my daughter is a threat to the Ministry. Your daughter? What do you mean? Ron asked, a look of confusion on his face. How old is your daughter? The man sighed heavily. Shes five, Mr. Weasley and shes dangerous. Manchester snorted out loud and rolled his eyes into the back of his head. Indeed! How, sir, is a five year old dangerous? The man looked between Ron and Sean nervously. His voice dropped an octave lower and he spoke in a whisper. I believe shes the reincarnation of Lord Voldemort. There was desperation in his eyes. I think she is the Dark Lord reborn. *** The lift arrived at the main administrative level where Williamson practically dragged Harry along towards the inner sanctum of the Ministers office. They walked swiftly past Dawlishs reception area and into the conference room adjacent to Dawlishs main office. The conference room was already full, most of the chairs around the table had members of the Minister s staff arrayed around the table in various states of consternation and confusion. Harrys entry was met by anxious nods and Harry sat down quickly. Williamson glanced towards the end of the table where Dawlish sat . I didnt have to go after him, after all. Theyd just returned. Dawlish nodded his head and looked over to Harry. Did you find Charlemagnes treasure? Harry shook his head. No, but we found a good lead. Youre going to have to forget it for a bit. Something has come up. Dawlish grunted. So Ive been told, Minister. Whats going on? Harry glanced around the room. Hermione, Arthur, Percy and a variety of high-level staffers seated around the table. Harry was also surprised to see Raimundo

Baretto, Seamus Finnegan, Bill Weasley, Fleur Weasley and two very old goblins sitting at the table as well. Clearly, something big was afoot. Dawlish held out his hand and the murmur in the room fell silent. I told Eric to have Silas and Morti mer handle the remainder of the Charlemagne affair. We have bigger fish to fry. Dawlish took a deep breath and then continued. About a month ago, Gringotts started receiving several artifacts in its holdings that seemed to be connected to the Phoenicians. Mostly, this consisted of jewels and trinkets and some coins. Thats what really got things moving. You took me off of one treasure hunt to go on another? Harry asked. Dawlish held up his hand. Not specifically, but I think it would be better if Gringotts took over the story. Bill cleared his throat, after a furtive glance in Raimundos direction. We knew that the Phoenicians were reputed to have a vast treasury, but thats not what really got our interest. Bill took out a small, golden coin, no more than five centimeters in diameter. It was faded and blank on one side while the opposite side had a relief figure of a horse. He passed the coin over to Harry. Take a look at the base that the horse is resting on. The horses legs were resting on a rectangular stand with a series of lines decorating the interior of the base. What am I looking at? Harry responded. Bill reached into a pile of papers and drew out a photograph. It was an enlarged image of the coin. Harry studied the photograph. It looks like a map of the Mediterranean. Bill nodded. Now look to the left of the map. Harry saw a landmass depicted to the east of the Straits of Gibraltar on the coin. America? He asked, still unsure of why that was important. Harry, Arthur Weasley smiled, that coin in your hand is over three thousand years old. The enormity of the information hit Harry like a thunderclap. Bill smiled. Thats right. Columbus journey was only five hundred years ago and the Vikings and Chinese werent purported to have made the journey little more than a thousand years before that. That coin means that the Phoenicians knew about America two thousand years before that! Bill sat back and rested his hands on the table. This coin was said to have been out of the old Phoenician treasury, Harry. Imagine what else could be in there. Bill was genuinely excited by the prospect. Harry tossed the coin back to Bill and looked over at Dawlish. John, Im sure this is very important, but what does it have to do with me? What do any of these adventures have to do with me? In fact, what does it have to do with the Ministry? Gringotts is more than capable of hiring out a search themselves. Maybe they should hire someone to do this privat ely. We did. It was the first time Raimundo had spoken during the meeting. His voice was strained and Harry saw a look of worry on his old friends face. They came to me. Harry looked up towards the corner of the room. The voice belonged to Dr aco Malfoy, whod been silent during most of the discussion. Only now, Harry noticed that hed been seated in the corner, listening. Now Draco stood and leaned his arms on the table, facing Harry.

I sent Michael and his Templars out hunting for clues to this treasury. The ship we sent and the Templars have not been heard from in over a week. Draco said solemnly. Where were they looking? Harry asked quietly. The coin was found in Italy. Draco said, his black eyes watching Harrys reaction. This time Raimundos interjected. It was the Discooperire, Harry. Adelina and her ship are missing. This time, Harry felt the wind leave his chest. His ties to the Discooperire and her crew, especially her flamboyant captain were well known. Theyd gone through many trials together, and one thing he knew for sure, anything or anyone able to take the ship on with the Templars in tow would prove to be a formidable force. Now he knew why hed been engaged. Harry turned to Dawlish. You think it was the Vatican, trying to get back at Michael and the Templars? Hermione shook her head. No, they werent heading to a place that had a lot of Vatican influence. Harry looked around the room and shrugged his shoulders. Folks, I cant help you if I dont have all the information. Where did they go? Where was the coin found? Dawlish nodded somberly. They were going to Volterra, Harry. They were going to see the Volturi. An already bad situation had gotten decidedly worse. *** The fans of the Chudley Cannons had been spoiled by their flirtation with greatness. The idea that the lowly Cannons would have the ability to reverse the course of centuries of losing had been intoxicating, to say the least. Consequently, the revelation that the winning streak had been the result of the illicit use of a Felix potion had come as a shock. What was even more surprising was that the reporter who uncovered the scandal had not been vilified by the Cannons fans for her temerity. In fact, she still continued to cover the Cannons which was how Ginny Potter found herself seated in the large press box for the Cannons grudge match with the Puddlemere United squad. Ginny was furiously taking notes as the match tightened to with a few points. Even during their renowned losing streak, the Cannons fought the United in close matches, creating an atmosphere of rivalry among the contestants and their fans. The situation had been only exacerbated during the Cannons run of glory. Ginny heard the crowd gasp as the venerable Oliver Wood made another impossible save at his goal for the United. He sent the quaffle back into play while shouting out encouragement to his players. Ginny noted the intensity and felt the stirrings of competitive spirit within her chest. Unconsciously, she tapped her toes and instep, as if she were guiding her own broom in the fray. She peered upward as the crowd roared. Almost simultaneously, both the Cannons Seeker and his United counterpart caught sight of the snitch diving for the deck below their respective positions high atop the pitch. As one, both Seekers tipped their broom handles downward and propelled themselves into reckless, foolhardy dives towards the ground below, unmindful of the other as they fixated on capturing the snitch and winning the match. All around, it seemed as if all activity stopped, even on the pitch as the players watched the tableau unfold, the wind chasing both players hair back. Ginny marveled at the sight, like watching two trains on a collision course for catastrophe while there seemed like nothing anyone could do to stop it. The snitch

seemed to pull up and hover, stopped as both Seekers met with a tremendous thud, right where the snitch was. There was a bonecrunching crash and both Seekers fell to the ground, both unmoving as they lie there. The snitch was there too, its wings lodged in the webbed front of the Uniteds Seekers vest. Unconsciously, the referee held up his hands, signaling the victory for the United, but the crowd hadnt noticed, watching at emergency witches and wizards rushed to help the downed flyers. Ginny held her hand to her mouth. Shed seen enough death to understand the very real possibility that one or both of the players could have suffered fatal injuries. The spectators milled about as the healers did their first triage of the injured. Slowly, the Cannons seeker moved her head, drawing a breath of relief from the crowd. Another healer worked feverishly on the Uniteds seeker. Finally, one of the healers rose and shook his head solemnly. Ginny watched in horror, realizing in securing victory, the United seeker had lost his life. The crowd was somber, but something strange occurred. The Cannons fans on the far side of the pitch began to chant. It was difficult to hear, at first, and then it began to grow louder and very sinister. Give us the win! Our seeker lives! Give us the win! Ginny looked over at the fans in shock. Their reaction was completely unexpected and the United fans were equally stunned. The United fans began to react. Ginny watched in complete horror as wands began to be drawn from the Cannons fans. In the blink of an eye, a small finger of magical light extended from the uproarious fans and struck the middle of the opponents fans. With in seconds, a general melee erupted and the match took an unprecedented and decidedly dangerous turn. Ginny ducked down behind a balustrade and snapped pictures of the action. For a seemingly long period of time, the riot continued unabated, with no slackening. The actual time had to have been a few minutes, before Ginny saw Dennis leading several teams of his Hit Squad running into the arena and breaking up the fights. She took a deep breath and stood, wondering what had triggered the response. She waved a hand at Dennis who waved back and then he stopped in his tracks. His arm was extended upward and he was pointing frantically behind her. She turned around quickly. One of the high viewing towers had been weakened by a spell and it started collapsing on itself. There was a loud roar and crash as the tower came crashing down atop the place right where Ginny was standing. Dennis ran frantically, tearing into the timbers with all of his might. Finally, he stopped when he spotted a long strand of bright orange-red hair. He gently pulled a large board out from the pile and spotted Ginnys ashen face. Her face was covered with blood and hair. He reached down his hand and placed it in front of her mouth. He waited and finally felt her breath on his hand and then turned to call for more help. Ginny was alive, but only barely. Whether she survived depended on how fast he could get her to a healer. He realized he had only seconds to respond, and those seconds were rapidly passing by. He continued to dig frantically to save her life, hoping he would not have to tell Harry that his wife was dead. Chapter 289 The Wheel Begins Its Turn Her head hurt and a low moan escaped her lips as she returned to the world of the living. Ginny? The voice was familiar and a warm feeling spread from her toes and up through her body to her head. Ginny? The sound rebounded against the dull thud pounding through her head. Slowly, she opened her eyes and was immediately rewarded with the harsh glare of an overhead light into her eyes. Healer Cranston! Shes waking up! Ginny lifted a careful hand to her forehead and attempted to open her eyes again. This time, the light seemed less harsh and she was able to look around. Things were a bit

fuzzy in her head, but the clarity of the concern in the voice struck her. It was Harry, she was sure of it. She took a few moments to allow her husband come into focus. The first thing she saw were his eyes. The bright viridian timber of their glow cast a jolt of warmth through her head and down her to her toes. She smiled and felt an immediate pang of pain in her temple from the effort. She settled for a small grimace as Harrys worried face came clear to her. Hey there, stranger, you had us worried for a moment. His voice was a mix of relief and concern, with no small portion of love. I thought I was the one with the dangerous job. She gave a brief chuckle and then winced. Dont make me laugh! A portly wizard with a kind face approached and put his hand on her forehead. Im Healer Cranston, Mrs. Potter. You were quite fortunate that Mr. Creevey pulled you out of the wreckage and got you here as soon as he did. You were quite near death, Im afraid. As it is, you have a good amount of healing to do. She nodded and felt the pain slowly subsiding. Soon, and with considerable effort, was able to sit up. When she looked around, she found herself in a ward in St. Mungos. Harry was beside her bed, holding her hand. In the distance, through the row of windows, she could see most of her family gathered in the waiting room. But shes going to make a full recovery, right Healer Cranston? Harry stared worriedly at the large man, who smiled. Shell be right as rain in no time, Mr. Potter. Now if you will excuse me, I have other patients from the, er, incident to look after. He smiled and excused himself. Harry nodded and then turned and looked at her. Ginny, what happened? Her mind reeled back to events at the match. She shook her head as much as her condition would allow. I dont know. It was surreal. I mean, fans are passionate, but this was visceral. It was like the Cannons fans were possessed, or something. It was so violent, so primal. But nothing you saw made them act like that? She smiled. Harry, I didnt see potions forced down peoples throats or some eerie light in the sky. I have no idea what happened. All I know is that Ive never seen that before. Harry nodded and sat back in a nearby chair. He rubbed the back of his neck as he thought. It is very strange, were going to have to look into it. She noticed his expression. What is it, Harry? He smiled and filled her in on the missing Discooperire expedition. On top of that, Ron talked to a man whos convinced that his daughter is the Tom Riddle reincarnated. Its been busy couple of days. He sighed. What are you going to do? She asked. Me? Im staying here until you get better. I guess Ill pull Eric out of the field and have him follow up . Im not leaving your side. His jaw was set. She reached out and touched his cheek with her hand.

Youre cute, Harry, really, but I dont need protection and I really like Adelina. If shes missing, you had better be doing your best to get her back. Youd never forgive yourself if you didnt and Id be pretty mad myself. She smiled. Besides, Im going to be fine. Ive got lots of help. She pointed to the waiting gallery of family and friends in the waiting room. Harry watched her dubiously and then nodded his head. Youre right. I wouldnt want you mad at me. He smiled and leaned over and kissed her lightly. You ready to see the kids? I thought youd never ask. *** The next day, Harry gathered his team at the Ministry to lay out their strategy for the different issues that had come up over the past few days. The conference room in the Office of Aurors was filled with every member of the office. All four teams were gathered together. The sight made Harrys chest swell. Hed been building this team over the years and they were a highly competent force of investigators and wizards with an almost even distribution between veterans and newer talent. He smiled inwardly as he surveyed the room and noticed how the old delineations of blood purity and suspicion had given way to a heterogeneous mix of all strata of wizarding society. The room was buzzing with activity which immediately quelled as Harry stepped to the podium at the front of the room. Lets settle down, everyone, weve got a lot to do, so lets get to it. First off, my wife is doing well and wed like to thank everyone who sent their best wishes, but that leads me to the first order of business. While people like Ron can get excited over the prospects for the Chudley Cannons during the season, there is no reasonable explanation for the riot that occurred the other day. There were low chuckles at Rons expense, but most of the room was still in shock over the explosion of violence that had resulted in Ginny Potters injury. Harry continued. To that end, Im assigning Erics team to investigating that event. Harry held up his hand to stop a protest that seemed to be forming in Williamsons face. Give me a second, Eric, and Ill get to why. Harry shuffled the papers on the rostrum. We still have the matter of Charlemagnes treasure to account for. So, Mortimer, youre team will accompany the Scamanders to Bulgaria to continue the search. Ive already been in contact with Viktor Krum. He will provide you any and all assistance you might require. Mortimer nodded and winked at Silas. Now, we have the matter of one Michelle Pravus, a five year old girl from Kent. What do you have, Ron? Ron cleared his throat and then looked around. Well, I thought the father was flighty and daft. He was convinced his little girl was Voldemort reborn. Ron shifted uncomfortably in his seat. After all, he was the father of a little girl himself. But we decided to do some checking and weve seen a marked rise in unexplained phenomenon in the area. Thereve been some animals killed, unexplained lights in the sky and the appearance of crop circles at local farms in the last few weeks. Manchester snorted. How does that point to the girl being evil? Given the signs, theres a better chance shes an alien. This brought another wave of chuckles in the room, except from Harry. He held up his hand for silence. Everyone knows its not aliens, Sean. That would be too fantastic to believe, but Ron does have one other thing to add, Ron?

Thanks, Harry. As I was saying, I thought the old man was daft, but we did hear of one thing that makes me want to look into this more. He scanned the room and then stared at Harry. Weve heard reports of a sighting that may lend credence to the mans claim. Whats that, a sasquatch? Sean didnt sound as flippant as he wanted the comment to be. No, a neighbor of the Pravuss said that two nights ago, she spotted a Dementer. The room immediately grew silent. Are you sure? They were supposed to be wiped from the planet when we took out Leclerc. Williamson interjected. Ron nodded his head. Her description was right on and we had independent confirmation of the situation. The point is that there is enough here to look into this. Harry cleared his throat. Right, so Ill be assigning Rons team to look into this matter. Harry turned to his last page of notes. Okay, that leaves the last item, the disappearance of the Discooperire and her crew. Im taking Seans team with me on the Aurora. Captain Innes has graciously offered to take us. He tilted his head towards the tall, porcelain skinned woman standing in the back of the room. Williamson again raised his head to protest, but Harry cut him off. I know Muireall is your wife, Eric, thats precisely why Im not taking your team on this. Besides, you have your own assignment to worry about. Eric made as if to press the point, but Muireall reached her arm out and steadied him. He relented and sat back. Harry smiled in gratitude at her gesture and then looked around. So, we have our assignments. Any comments or questions? Not to be the paranoid in the group Harry, but are these events connected? Sean asked. Good question, Sean, and frankly, I dont know. I dont think so. We dont have any points of convergence, yet the fact that they are happening all at the same time is curious. I doubt theres any grand conspiracy or anything, but then again, given what weve seen, we cant rule it out. Harry had been thinking about the possibility, but everything was so disconnected, he couldnt make that leap, just yet. Anyone else? Ron raised his head. Well, one thing is that this will pull the teams pretty far afield. Were going to be stretched thin, so how do we cover everything? Half our teams will out of the country and the other half will be in out investigating in the field. Good point, Ron, and Ive discussed it with the Minister. Were going to activate a reserve team to mind the store while were gone. Harry smiled smugly. Ron looked around. Reserve team? We have one of those? Sure, here they come now. There was a bustle in the corridor followed by the echo of a high-pitched, reedy Scottish lilt. Im telling you, you got it all wrong! Im retired. Dennis escorted a tall thin man with long white hair and a matching beard. Lachlan McCrory was hustled into the conference room and stopped short when he saw Harry. You! You did this! I get an owl from the Ministry telling me that Ive been re-activated, whatever the hell that means, and then Dennis goons show up at my bar and haul me off.

Harry grinned sardonically. Lachlan, we need you. The older wizard locked his eyes on Harry. You did this! You got the Ministry to draft me? Harry nodded. We need you. Harrys plea struck Lachlan and the old man stopped ranting. Finally he nodded. Okay, but its only temporary, right? Right. Harry turned to the group. Lachlan will have a team that will h old the fort at the Ministry while were gone. Team, what team? Lachlan asked. See for yourself. Harry waved towards the door and led him out of the room and into the main Office area. Standing there were six wizards and witches. Lachlan stopped short and smiled, nodding to himself. This wont be so bad, after all. Lachlan said and stretched his arm out to greet his new team. One by one, they returned his greeting. First Leonora Sigismund, then Elizabeth Cavendish Dawlish, next came Kingsley Shacklebolt, then Seamus Finnegan, followed by Dean Thomas and bringing up the rear was Neville Longbottom. Lachlan broke out into a large grin. No, this wont be bad at all. Chapter 290 Michelle Pravus Westgate-on-Sea was a small, quiet resort town sitting on the southeast English coast near the Thames Estuary. It bordered the larger resort town of Margate and was known as a sanctuary for retirees. Two figures snapped into appearance inside an alley between the long row of buildings along the strip of sandy beach. It was winter and the muggle world was in a constrictive financial crisis which compounded a normally slow economy in Westgate. Consequently, there was no one about to witness the arrival of the representatives of the Office of Aurors. Ron took a quick look around and then motioned for Carter Sigismund to follow him out the alley. They were dressed in a similar fashion: muted gray suits with dark ties and heavy, dark overcoats, much in line with the Department 19 persona the Aurors effected when out among muggles. Ron pulled the collar of his coat up against the chill wind off the English Channel. Winter in northeastern Kent was usually mild and showery rain was typically expected, but the sky seemed more ominous, drearier and a sensation of hopelessness and sadness seemed to seep through the protection of his overcoat. Ron shook the rain from his hair and brooded about the signs. The last time hed felt this way was during the time that Dementers roamed the countryside. There was no visual confirmation of the existence of the foul creatures, but everything Ron felt and saw pointed to their return. Carter followed close behind Ron and the pair made their way down the deserted streets towards a row of buildings a few blocks off the ocean. Ron watched Carter through the corner of his eye, noting that there were no outward signs of his injuries. Carter stood with his shoulders upright and straight, his demeanor confident. Hermione felt that bringing the whole team would have intimidated the little girl. Ron said as they walked. She thought bringing you would be helpful. She felt we should bring someone as close in age to a five year old as we had. Carter chuckled. Was she talking about me or you?

Ron snorted. Being a wise ass will not reflect well on your review. Sorry boss, it wont happen again, at least in the next five minutes. Carter quipped and his banter made Ron feel much better about his recovery. They walked with steady strides until they came to a long row of townhouses along a stretch of drive. Ron pushed open the worn, but well kept gate and strode up the small landing to the front door of one of the houses. He reached up and tapped on the small brass knocker affixed to the door. He heard a rustling of movement and the door opened slightly. Ron saw a familiar eye peeking from inside and he smiled. Mr. Pravus, its Ron Weasley from the Ministry. We talked a few days ago about your daughter? Ron saw the eye widen and then the door was pushed close, as the occupant unfastened the chain at the jamb. Soon the door swung open, revealing the figure of Richard Pravus. Richard held the door open and ushered the two men into his home. He led through a narrow hallway and back to a tidy, but dated kitchen located in the rear of the home. I was just about to pour some tea, can I offer you gentlemen some? Its chilly out there. Ron and Carter nodded and took seats around a worn kitchenette as Richard Pravus placed two mismatched sets of chipped tea cups and saucers in front of them. He poured tea from a cast iron teapot and took his seat at the table. I dont want to lie to you, Mr. Pravus, but the Ministry is concerned about your assertion that your daughter is the reincarnation of the Dark Lord. Normally, wed be inclined to disbelieve such a claim, but there are other factors that make us want to look into this. The Dementers? Richard asked. Ron nodded. Among others, but yes, the presence of Dementers is a strong sign. Wed like to see Michelle, obviously, sir, but wed like to talk to you about her, about her life. Carter took a brief sip from his cup. Tell us about her mother. Richards eyes flashed briefly and then tilted downward. Her mother is dead. She wa s a muggle, a very pretty woman, but she died in childbirth. Ron could see that he was holding back and prompted him. Tell us more, Mr. Pravus. What is youre hiding? Pravus sighed heavily. She found out I was a wizard by accident. She lived on the farm next my familys and when I graduated from Hogwarts, I had been fooling around in a field, thinking about becoming an Auror, no less, and she saw me practicing some spells. She came over and made me tell her what I was. I couldnt resist, she was so beautiful. I fell in love with her then. His eyes grew distant as he remembered the scene. She had been fascinated by magic and magic users. So he obliged to tell her all he could. He smiled wistfully. She never left me alone and soon, I fell in love with her. She grew interested in the fact that the children of a muggle and a magic user could be a magic user themselves. She wanted to create a wizard. So she agreed to marry me. It was music to my soul, because I loved her so much. His face gre w dark and Carter nodded. Did she love you, Mr. Pravus? Carter asked bluntly.

Pravus hesitated and held his head in his hands. Then he looked up and shook his head. No, not really. She was more interested in magic and how better it would make her life. I was the only wizard she really knew, so I guess I was convenient. I dont think she ever really loved me, although she did say it once when she wanted to get married. Carter and Ron shared a quick look. One thing about Voldemort was that he was not born from parents who shared a mutual love for each other, and this seemed to be the case for Pravus. Well, Ron grunted, I suppose we should go meet the young lady. Richard nodded and stood, leading them out of the kitchen to a small flight of stairs near the front door. The walked up, their steps echoing in the bare halls. They made their way to a closed door near the end of the hall. Richard tapped on the door and then opened it slowly. Michelle, honey? Michelle, there are some nice men here to see you. He pushed the door open and made room for Ron and Carter to enter. The first thing that struck Ron was that this was a little girls room. His thoughts immediately drifted to Roses room. The room was light and airy, a direct contrast to the more muted and somber tones in the rest of the house. The room was decorated with pink and lavender butterflies with neat white furniture. The bed had fluffy, frilly pillows and was practically buried under a mountain of stuffed animals. A mobile was suspended from the center of the ceiling, containing butterflies magically fluttering their wings and moving around the central axis. Rons eyes moved to the girl seated in the middle of the floor. She was wearing blue jeans decorated with rhinestones and a pink tee shirt adorned with the picture of a popular cartoon figure. The little girl looked up and smiled sweetly. She was a pretty girl, with shoulder length chestnut hair that was pulled into pigtails and held together by pink ribbons. Her face had an olive complexion and her eyes were a bright green and twinkled at Ron as he knelt beside her. Hello, Michelle, my name is Ron. Ron pointed to the doll she was holding, an almost mirror image of herself. Shed been carefully grooming the dolls hair to match her own. Thats a pretty dolly. I have a daughter, almost your age. I bet shed like a dolly like that. She giggled. Thats silly. This doll is mine and shes the best doll in the world. No one can have her except me. Whys that? Ron asked. Because she looks just like me and Im better than anyone else in the whole wide world. Ron blinked at how matter-of-fact shed been with her statement, and yet she was speaking in a sweet, little girl way. Carter cleared his throat. What makes you think that youre better than anyone else, Michelle? She turned and smiled at him. Because I can do things that no one else can. Carter had moved towards the window, across the room from the door. Directly behind him, the sheer, pink curtains that dressed the window burst into a bright, garish red flame. Carter jumped momentarily and twisted his head to face her. She seemed to take no notice of the flames, instead concentrating on tying the bows on her dolls head. She was busily humming a tuneless melody to herself. Ron stood and drew his wand. Finite! His voice was clear and the flames immediately disappeared and the curtains looked untouched. Ron placed his wand back in his pocket and stared back down at the girl. She was looking at him, an annoyed look on her face.

My daddy can stop my tricks, but youre not supposed to. She said defiantly. Ron chuckled. That was no trick. That was easy to do. That seemed to annoy the little girl even further. Her hands stopped brushing the dolls head and she stared at Ron. The room began to shake and her glare became more furious. I dont like it when you laugh at me. Im better than anyone else. The rumbling became more pronounced and then the lamp near her bedside table flung itself across the room aiming for Rons head. Ron ducked his head and watched as the lamp slammed into a nearby wall. Michelle stood and held the arm of her doll at her side. She stared at Ron intently. Im better because Im magic. Her smile was innocent, with an underlying gloom. The edges of her emerald eyes began to glow a bright red. Ron stood calmly and placed his hands on his waist. You know, young lady, its not nice to throw a temper tantrum. He drew his wand and whispered a quick charm. Immediately, her arms dropped her doll and locked to her side. She tried to move, but couldnt. As for being magic, there are a lot of people who use magic. Some of us actually know how to. He walked to her and knelt, waving his wand and releasing her from the grip of the spell. She looked at him, a mixture of anger and surprise, which slowly changed into tears. Im sorry. She said in tiny, weak voice. Ron reached out and gave her a hug, patting her on the back. She kept whispering that she was sorry and then, her voice changed, and a different language began coming from her lips. Ron released her and stepped back, his jaw agape in shock. What is it, Ron? What language is that? Carter asked, drawing his wand. Ron looked up at his protg. Shes speaking Parseltongue. She can talk to snakes. Ron whispered. Michelle gave him a snort and smiled sweetly and the returned to her spot on the floor, picking up her doll and finishing with her hair. Carter turned towards the window. The weathers getting worse. He said and approached the window to view the darkening skies. Carter felt a cold chill permeate the air and his breath was visible. Crystals of ice began to form on the panes of the window and he looked back up into the sky. Ron, I think youd better take a look at this. Ron snapped his head towards Carter and he rushed to his side at the window. He looked up into the blackness and allowed his focus to set on the swirling clouds. Only, it wasnt just clouds. In the pounding rain, there were intermittent flashes of lightning and in the brief periods of light, what Ron saw, shook him to the core. In amid the clouds were the tattered robes of scores of Dementers, roaming in and out of the storm clouds with loose abandon. They seemed more solid, and much more sinister. Ron felt joy literally ripped from his chest and then he pulled himself away from the window before the despair grew to great. He turned and stared at the small girl playing idly on the floor. She looked over to him and smiled, and then her eyes flashed a bright red, before she turned back to her doll. Chapter 291 Hooligans Eric Williamson stepped off the train followed closely by the six members of his team. He glanced up at the heavy overcast skies and his thoughts drifted back to the report Ron had filed from his visit to Kent. He scanned the horizon carefully for signs of Dementers and then shook his head. It was winter in

Yorkshire, a county on the Northeast coast of England. The North Sea was just visible in the distance, of course it would be overcast and cold. Still, he could not shake the uneasy feeling that he was feeling the outer tinges of sadness that accompanied the presence of Voldemorts former minions. Eric turned and surveyed his team. Of all the teams, Eric had experienced the most turnover. With the exception of the woman standing next to him, the members of his team were young, just barely completed their M.A.G.E.S. The woman was short and frumpy, and appeared in the advanced stages of middle age. She wore a black frock which she pulled tight against the weather. Her hair was pushed up into a bun and its black tresses were intermixed with shades of white and gray. A pair of anachronistic cats eye g lasses were precariously perched on tip of her long, slender nose and it seemed probable to Eric that the long chain affixed to the spectacles was the only thing preventing them from being lost. Karen Sands looked more like a frumpish librarian than an accomplished hunter of dark wizards. Eric knew that looks could be deceiving. Sands was older than most of her teammates combined. Shed survived the decades of anxiety and evil of the first Voldemort war and had managed to keep her wits about her during the second war. There were rumors that shed come up through the ranks at the same time as Lachlan and Jackson-Smythe. She had small, beady brown eyes that were magnified by the thick lenses of her glasses. She shivered and then turned to Eric, speaking a high pitched, squeaky voice. You always get the plum assignments for us, Eric. Her mouth was twisted into a wry smile, taking a lot of the edge off the admonition. Eric chuckled, You would prefer to be on a ship, rocking in the North Sea during the winter storm season? He asked. It was her turn to laugh and she shook her head. No, but given who the captain of that ship is, Im sure you would. He couldnt argue. Instead, he waited for the rest of the team to gather around him. O ne of his Aurors was moving from side to side on the balls of his feet. He looked impossibly young, as if he were no more than twelve years old. Granted, he was a recent inductee to the service, but Artois Bennett was as sharp as they came. A graduate of the Welch School of Magic and Spells, hed taken the harder path to becoming an Auror and had excelled all through his apprenticeship. Still, Eric thought, he needed some seasoning. He needed to learn how to keep his emotions in check, especially when out on a mission, like now. Artois held his hands up to his mouth and blew warm air to re-engage the circulation. Why didnt we just apparate to the site? Why did we take the scenic route? The young Aurors teeth were chattering as he spoke. Eric looked to the sky for patience and the turned to the fledgling Auror. As I told you before, Artois, it s standard procedure to revoke all portkeys and place an anti-apparition charm around a investigation scene. Yorkshire Moor isnt far, so were just going to have to deal with it, okay? The young mans face grew chagrined and then he nodded. Eric smiled warmly and nodded knowingly to Karen. Okay people, lets get going. They walked to the edge of the platform and continued on into an abandoned field. At a look from Eric, the Aurors drew brooms from their satchels and as one, the seven members of the team mounted their brooms and leapt into the gloomy sky, following Eric on a line towards the Yorkshire Moor. *** Unlike the most of the professional Quidditch pitches in England, there was no need to hide the Yorkshire Moor location behind a cloak of invisibility. The site had a heavy obsuring charm combined with a generally remote and hard to access location. The Aurors swooped down from the sky and landed in a broom parking area near the main entrance. Once they alit, they ducked under the Ministry tape across

the entrance and entered the main pitch area. The first thing they noticed was that the stadium was exactly the way it had been the day of the riot. The place was deserted. As a rule, the charms left by Dennis team were enough to keep wayward wizards from entering. The main gantries were intact, but here and there, spots of destruction and damage were in abundance. Eric took particular note of a crashed tower and shook his head. Ginny Potter was, indeed, lucky to be alive. Karen, ever the professional, took a quick, detailed view of the site. It would appear that the Cannon fans were sitting over there. She pointed to a section of stand s more damaged from the riot than the others. If there was some external stimuli for the actions, Id say it was over there. One of the Aurors, George Boldly, snorted. Did anyone stop and think that they got mad because they were Cannons fans? Erics face grew serious. Everyone knows, George, that Cannons fans embraced their reputation as loveable losers. They were more affable than anything else. Remember how much Ron is a Cannons fan? George nodded. Eric continued. I agree with your sugge stion, Karen. Fan out and start poking around the seating area. They started at the top tier of seating and worked their way down, upending pieces of debris and poking into small holes, looking for some sign of nefarious activity. Slowly, but surely, they made their way down to the front tier of seating, finding nothing untoward. Eric wiped a handkerchief over his brow. Nothing. We havent found a thing that would point to why these people went insane. His voice betrayed his frustration. He was just about to call it a day when a murmur from the top landing caught his attention. From seemingly out of nowhere, a group of about a hundred people had gathered in the stands. For the most part, they were young, about late teen and early twenties. All of them wore orange and black clothing, the colors of the Chudley Cannons. What struck Eric, was the absolute anger in their expressions. With a wave of his hands, he drew his team closer together. Eric looked up and shouted to the group. This area is restricted, by order of the Minister of Magic. Moved along! His order drew sneers from the crowd and one particularly thuggish brute of a man stepped forward. Ministry! He shouted, the contempt brewing in his throat. Get out of here, Ministry! This is Cannon territory! Erics eyes narrowed and he nodded, ever so slightly to Karen, who moved to pull the Aurors down onto the pitch. Eric centered his gaze on the spokesman. You there, move on. Get your people out of here, lest we have to arrest you for obstruction. Arrest us? The man laughed. With an imperceptible movement, he reached into the folds of his sweatshirt and drew his wand. You and what army? The man pointed his wand at Eric and sent a blasting charm towards the Auror. Er ics decades of experience and training reacted before conscious thought. The senior Auror flipped backwards, over the railing separating the stands from the pitch and landed on his feet beside his circle of Aurors near the Chudley goal. The section of seats where had been standing evaporated in a cloud of debris and fire. Eric stood calmly and held his wand out.

Stand to! He yelled, his Aurors taking position in an inverted vee shape, three to his left and three to his right. Eric looked up and saw the crowd running down the stands towards them. Stunners only people! Not checking whether his team acknowledged his command, Eric sent a stunning charm out that bracketed the front rank of rioters. At least ten fell immediately as Eric and the Aurors picked off the first wave, but the remainder didnt seem to notice their comrades fall and continued to push at the Aurors. The fighting was intense. Two Aurors were responsible for shielding their compatriots while the others picked away at their attackers. Despite the superior ability, Eric soon realized that the attacking hordes would be able to overpower them. His realization was soon reinforced by a shout from James Wright, one of his Aurors. Eric, behind us! Eric turned towards the main p itch entry. Another fifty or so hooligans were running into the stadium from where the team had entered. Williamson nodded. Follow me! Eric led the team into the entrance to the Cannons locker room area, directly underneath the stadium seating. The rushed into the locker room and Eric pointed to the large metal lockers near the door. Block the door! Maybe we can hold them here. Eric detachedly took stock of their situation. The anti-apparition charms kept them from escaping and Lachlan, if he was following standard procedure, wouldnt check up on them for at least twenty four hours. Such was the independence that Harry had instituted for the teams. Hurriedly, two of his Aurors moved the lockers in front of the doors. Boldly came running up to Eric. This is the only entrance I can find. We can hold them here, I think. Eric nodded grimly. It also means theres no other way out. Well fight in pairs. Hold the door while the others rest. Artois and James, youre up first. The pair sidled up to a pillar in front of the door. Soon, the entrance was beset by a barrage of spells, slowly taking the door apart. While they set about defending the room, Karen stood in the center of the room, atop a bright orange rug emblazoned with the Cannons logo. She bent down and noticed a small depression in the center of the rug. She waved at George. Help me move the rug, George. Together, they pulled rug aside and Karen noticed the outline of a trap door in the center of the stone tiles. Eric, look at this. Eric walked over and studied her find. He felt around the edges of the cracks and found a small bit of purchase in the tile. He pulled on it and discovered an entrance to a tunnel leading below the stadium. Well, this is interesting. Eric mumbled to himself. He made a quick decision. Everyone, into the tunnel. He nodded to Karen. Despite her outward appearance, she nimbly leapt down into the dark passage, followed by George. One by one, Erics team entered the shaft. Eric b rought up the rear after waving his wand. Behind them, the cover replaced itself in its nook and the covering rug returned to its place, hiding their escape. The Aurors lit their wands. The passage was narrow and Eric had squeeze past his team to go to the front where Karen was. Karen was studying the walls intently. This place looks like its been here longer than the stadium. The walls are smooth and worn. She pointed with her wand. Eric nodded and took the lead. They followed the tunnel until it opened into a room. On one side there was a large set of doors. One of the Aurors opened one of the doors and turned to Eric.

I see sky. This is definitely a way out. Eric nodded, but noticed George stooping over something in the corner of the room. What have you found? Eric asked. George was silent and Eric walked up to him. On the floor there appeared to be the broken side of a packing crate. The wood was dry, battered and fractured. It looked as if someone had broken open the crate and tossed this piece to the floor. It was wholly unremarkable, save for the fact that the wood was glowing with dark red light. George reached down to pick it up before Eric could stop him. The red light went up Georges arm. The Auror dropped the crate like hed been shocked by lightning. George, are you all right? Eric asked worriedly. Boldly looked back at Eric, but there was no recognition in his eyes. In fact, his eyes were blazing with the same red light as the box. The Auror drew his wand and sent a spell that sent Eric flying across the room. Karen reacted quickly. George! Whats the matter with you? You think you know everything! Why are we wasting our time with this petty stuff? George sent a spell towards Karen, forcing her to leap out of the way. Artois was standing behind her and took the full brunt of the blast. He was propelled through the doors and landed, unmoving on the ground outside. George started laughing maniacally. No one can stop me! Im the best there is. Im the only one that can do great things! He snapped off spells at his bewildered team mates. Two more went down. George pointed his wand at Karen, whos wand had been knocked from her hand in the last attack. He sneered at her and aimed at her head. Before he could finish her off, a blast from prone figure of Eric struck George in the back and drove him into the stone wall, knocking him unconscious. Eric pulled himself to his feet. He was bleeding from several wounds and his face was bruised from the collision with the wall. He reached down and assisted Karen to her feet. His eyes were drawn to the innocent looking piece of wood that would be completely ignored in any other setting. There was something more to this than met the eye. He watched as the uninjured members of his team cared for the others, including George. Then, he heard a crash and roar from the tunnel from where theyd made their escape. He looked down the tunnel and spotted the sign of lit wands coming down the passage. Their pursuers had found them. Eric looked back at the crate remnants and noticed that its red glow as brighter and more sinister. He turned and raised his wand, pointing it down the passage. He grimaced. Now if only they could survive to find out what was going on. With that, he sent a spell down the tunnel.

Chapter 292 Bulgarian Rhapsody The flight into Sofia landed almost directly on time. The capital of Bulgaria had seen an explosion of economic growth with the fall of the Soviet Empire. The airport had been rebuilt to become the premier air travel hub in the region. The British Airways flight from Heathrow landed precisely on time and rolled to the new terminal building with little fanfare. The flight was crowded and Mortimers team was scattered among the throng of passengers that exited. Customs processing and baggage claim were more efficient than Mortimer expected and within minutes, the team had gathered with Luna and Rolf and walked outside the security perimeter to the curb of the busy terminal. Outside, the sky was gray, but not too somber. Winter along the Danube tended to be cold and brisk and the Aurors had dressed appropriately. Mortimer laughed to himself as he spotted a tall, rail thin man in a long black leather trench coat standing beside an innocuous white panel van. The man had long, bright red hair tied in a pony tail. His face was marked by some slight scarring and freckles, but his eyes were bright and his mouth creased into a wide, toothsome smile as he spotted Mortimer. He raised his arm up

and waved. Mortimer waved back and nodded for his team to follow. When they arrived at the van, a lithe, athletic woman, also in a long leather coat, exited the van and joined the man at the curb. Mortimer held out his arm and shook the mans hand. Hello, Charlie, we didnt expect to see you here. I thought you were in Romania? Charlie Weasley returned Mortimers handshake with a firm grip. He laughed. Romanias only across the border, you know, besides, when Vikt or told me you were coming, I decided to take some time off. Its been a long while since Ive been on any Ministry foolishness. Charlie nodded to the woman beside him. You remember Billie Tunstall? Of course, although Im surprised to see that youre still tethered to this loser, Billie. He exchanged handshakes with the gangster turned dragon wrangler. The woman smiled fiercely. What can I say, Im a sucker for lost causes. She pointed to the rear of the van. Load up and well take you to Viktor. Charlie turned and hugged Luna. Its been a long time, Luna, too long. His voice was halting and he seemed a bit awkward as he turned and greeted Rolf. Luna laughed faintly. Has it? Ive been around. I thought you just were avoiding me because I didnt want to go out with you anymore. She said in her matter of fact way. Mortimer arched an eyebrow at Charlie, who chuckled uncomfortably. Okay, so maybe I went out with Luna a few years back, it wasnt anything serious. Charlie glanced at Rolf who was grinning in obvious amusement. Luna, ever her blunt self, offered a clarification. What Charlie meant was that I wasnt serious about it, but he kept sending love letters and professing his undying devotion. Im glad he finally met someone. Billie laughed and leaned towards Charlie. You never send me love letters. Charlie turned beat red and quickly tried to change the subject. Yes, well, all right everyone, shall we get going? He made a beeline for the drivers seat, making an exit from the scene. Billie and Mortimer looked at Luna. She had a bright smile on her face and looked at them conspiratorially. It wasnt that big a thing, we went out on one or two dates, but its so much fun to tease him. You mean he didnt send you love letters? Billie asked. Oh, Im sure he did, but Charlie was chasing so many women back then, I doubt he actually knows what he sent me and what he sent everyone else. Luna responded. Chased a LOT of women back then, did he? Billie asked in a way that made Mortimer shake his head in sympathy for his friend. Luna seemed unaware of Billies tone. Oh yes, that was one of the reasons I didnt want to go out with him anymore. I didnt want to be one of many. Thats why Rolf and I hit it off. One of how many? Billie asked.

Mortimer decided that perhaps it was a good time to move on. I think we need to get going. Theres no telling how far we have to go. Billie stared at the back of Charlies head and then climbed into the passengers seat. Charlie smiled winsomely at her. All ready to go, honey? She glared at him and nodded. Charlie locked eyes with Mortimer in the rear view mirror. All the Auror could do was shrug and shake his head. Charlie was on his own. *** They drove through the maze of city streets until they came to an abandoned and boarded up storefront. During the Communist era, this had been one of the Politburo supermarkets where the Party elite would have access to luxury items that were unavailable to the common people. Now it was dilapidated and shut down. All of the windows were shattered and boarded up. Graffiti was strewn among the boards and walls. The van pulled to through to a side alley and went around to the abandoned loading dock. Charlie placed the van in park and turned around. Right, were here. Wheres here? Asked Silas. Youll see. Responded Charlie, cryptically. The exited the van and Charlie led them to the side of the large dumpster located just outside the loading dock. Charlie tapped his fist on the side of the dumpster and the front slid down. He led them inside the dumpster itself. The interior was rusted and dry, a far cry from its heyday. The front slid back into place and a single light bulb swung from a wire on the ceiling. They stood for a moment and then a loud screeching sound followed by the entire dumpster moving forced them to grab hold of the sides. After a few minutes, the dumpster stopped moving and the front panel opened up, revealing a large, open room, akin to the entry way of the Ministry of Magic. Charlie turned and held his arms wide. Welcome to the Bulgarian Hall of Magic! He led them out into the open atrium area. A constant flow of traffic greeted them. Here and there were wizards and witches and all manner of magical creatures ebbing and flowing into the government seat for all magical things for Bulgaria. Mortimer shook his head. Ahead was a reception desk, much like the one found at his own Ministry. Seated behind the desk was an old wizard who looked vaguely familiar. State your business. The gruff wizard said in accented English. Were here to see Viktor Krum. Charlie said. Were expected. The old wizard eyed Charlie with a bored expression. Then he turned an ancient ledger around and flipped a quill down on the surface. Sign in, please and Ill need to register your wands. My name is Dmitri Munch, Ill be signing for your wand inspection. Silas leaned and whispered in Mortimers ear. They have got to be related. Mortimer shrugged his shoulders and passed his wand to Munch. He received a slip of paper in return and then passed through the turnstile into the Hall proper. Once they were through, Charlie led them to a bank of elevators and slid into the first car, waiting until everyone was inside. He tapped a button and grabbed a hold of one of the hanging straps from the ceiling. The car whisked away and moved downward and sideways. Soon they came to a stop at their floor and exited the car in a long marble hallway. Charlie led them to an archway which was embossed

with gold letters over the threshold in a different language. One word that was recognizable was Auror. Mortimer figured this had to be the Bulgarian Office of Aurors. They walked in, following behind Charlie. At first blush, the Bulgarian equivalent of their own Office was basically identical to what they were used to. There were several rows of cubicles aligned in the middle of the room, with the walls accommodating several offices and conference rooms. Out of one of the offices, stepped Viktor Krum. The former World Cup Seeker had not seemed to mellow with age. Mortimer noticed that his stone visage was highlighted with small lines of age, but for the most part, Viktor seemed like he was ready to lead the national team into the fray. One thing that Viktor did have that seemed out of place was a huge smile upon seeing Luna. He reached his arms out and embraced her in a massive bear hug. Luna! It is good to see you again! He turned and offered a hand to Rolf. And this must be the man who has finally managed to take your heart. Mortimer was surprised to see Luna flush at the attention. Normally, she was oblivious to such things, but her reaction let Mortimer know that no matter how much time passed, Viktor Krum still had the fan base hed had as youth. Come in, come in everyone. Viktor led them into one of the conference rooms and greeted the Aurors. Ve have found a place to start looking for Charlemagnes trove. It would appear that Elbegast was a frequent visitor to our country. Really? Already? What did you find? Asked Mortimer. In a place called the Rose Valley, which is in the geographic center of our country is the Thracian Tomb near the town of Kazanluk. Viktor said. What makes you think that its the place we seek? Silas asked, not really questioning the conclusion, but seeking the connection that had been missed. Viktor nodded, Vell, ve almost missed it until we found out about the Phoe nician coin that Harry was pursuing. Thats not necessarily related to what were doing, or is it? Mortimer interjected. I dont know, but Elbegast was known to study the Phoenicians and inside the tomb ve found this. He held up a weathered coin that was identical to the one that the Discooperire had been following up. Viktor rolled his shoulders. I dont know that what Harry is pursuing is related to your goal, but at the same time, I am not a believer in coincidence. Mortimer nodded. Neither am I. When do we go? *** Kazanluk was a bright, airy city located at the eastern end of the Rose Valley at the foot of some high mountains. Viktor led the group from the town square and into a well lit alley. Here, ve must use brooms. They boarded their brooms and leapt up into the sky. Viktor turned to the group. Stay close to me. I have extended an obscuring charm to hide us. Mortimer marveled at Viktors ability. A good obscuration charm is something that only an accomplished wizard could achieve. People had a tendency to underestimate Viktors abilities as a wizard, given his outward appearance. Yet, hed been selected as the Durmstrang champion for more than his brawn.

They flew out and finally landed inside a small valley that housed a opening to an underground tunnel. Viktor smiled. This is the Kosmatka Tomb. This is where we found the coin. They walked inside. All around were signs calling the place the Heroon of Sueth III. Sueth having been the Thracian king who dated back to the fifth century BC. The walls were smooth and obvious signs of excavation were found. All around were objects of gold and silver that had been discovered within the tomb. Well, I suppose we should take a look around. Mortimer offered. T he team spread out and began inspecting the site. They studied the walls and the mosaics that dotted the area. The beauty was staggering and yet, no connection to what they were looking for could be found. After almost an hour of searching, nothing had presented itself. Mortimer was getting ready to give up when he heard Luna. Well, hello little friend, whats a Nargle doing here? She was kneeling in front of a fresco and Rolf walked over and inspected the painting. Mortimer followed and studied the painting. Its tiles were littered with color and he had to process the scene. In the bottom corner of a scene from a spring meadow was a small, intricately carved tile drawing of a butterfly. It was identical to the one theyd found alive when they d found Durandal. Mortimer smiled to himself. He reached down and touched the smooth wings of the butterfly. A low rumble echoed through the chamber and the wall theyd been inspecting opened, revealing a large room that defied imagination. The room was more a grotto than a chamber. A cool brook trickled through the middle of a plant strewn path culminating in a waterfall that fed the water into dark chasm. Across the room, piles of gold and jeweled carvings dotted the area. Well, I guess we found it. Mortimer said and proceeded into the room. They explored, dazzled by what they saw. In one corner of the grotto, they found a pile of scrolls. Mortimer opened up one of them and felt his breath catch in his chest. Do you realize what these are? Mortimer asked in a whisper. Charlie shrugged, Scrolls? Yes, scrolls, but theyre more than that. Mortimer said, picking up another one. Old scrolls? Charlie said. Mortimer sighed. No, well, yes, but theyre more than that. Its about where theyre from. Mortimer pointed to the delicate pile of papers. Theyre all from the great Library in Alexandria. Who knows what well find here. This is truly a treasure. He began unraveling the long lost books, reading into their treasures. The remainder of the team dug into the treasures that abounded. Silas found himself following the brook towards the falls and struck his toe on something in the grass. It was an open crate that was completely out of place. The side of the crate was missing but there was lettering on the top that should not have been there, not in treasure trove for Charlemagne and definitely not in a Thracian tomb. He read the letters. Office of Strategic Services and United States Army, Area 51, Roswell, NM, Lot Number 1955-10-10-45980.

How did this get here? Silas turned and shouted to the others. Guys? I think youd better take a look at this. He turned his gaze back to the crate and reached down to shift it, to check the underside. It was empty, but there was a rectangular outline on the bottom, outlining what had been inside. As he touched the crate, it began to glow a bright red and Silas felt a surge of energy course through his arm and into his head. He smiled. He was powerful, more powerful than he could ever remember. He was better than anyone else. A second emotion followed. Everyone was jealous of him, of his power. They were coming to steal it from him. Vot did you find? Viktor was rapidly approaching. Silas grimaced. Viktor was ev il, he would try to steal his power. Silas snap drew his wand and sent a bolt into Viktors chest, sending the big man flying. You cant take this away from me! This is mine! Im more powerful than anyone! He fired, felling his team mates where he could and forcing the rest to take cover. Silas! Whats wrong with you? Mortimer ducked behind and ornate gold chest as a blast landed amid a pile of coins. Its us, Silas! No! You cant have it! Silas fired again, this time striking the base of a stone monument where Luna had sought cover. The statue fell over, dumping Luna into the rushing waters of the creek. She struck her head on a rock and the current carried her down the stream, past Silas. Rolf screamed and was struck by a bolt from Silas as he left his hiding place. Mortimer watched in horror as Luna was carried down the brook and over the falls, into the dark abyss below. He turned, his wand out and looked at Charlie who was moving from pile to pile as Billie covered him. Then Mo rtimer locked eyes with Silas. Silas brown eyes were tinged bright red and he seemed angry. He pointed his wand and destroyed the chest Mortimer had been hiding behind. The blast knocked Mortimer back, casting his wand aside. Mortimer looked over at his old friend and saw his wand aimed at his head. Silas was laughing to himself. No one will take away what is mine! Then all Mortimer saw was darkness. Chapter 293 Aurora means Dawn, not Twilight We got to Erics team in time. It was fortunate that he brought the tunnel down on their pursuers, but it was a close run thing, Harry. Lachlans image in the floo shuddered from the memory. We managed to isolate the wood pieces with a containment spell, but theres still residual energy seeping t hrough. Kingsley and Hermione are researching it now. Harry locked his leg around the leg of his chair as the Aurora lurched as it crested another swell. What about his affected team member? How is George? Back to normal, and he has no recollection of the incident. Karen said it was like hed been possessed. Harry noted warmth in Lachlans tone as he mentioned Karen Sands name. In reviewing things, there did seem to be some similarity in what George was spouting off and what Michelle Pravus told Ron. Id noticed that. Perhaps both cases are related? Harry pulled off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. The news of Erics teams encounter at Yorkshire Moor had struck him hard. No more so than Rons report from his encounter with Michelle Pravus. Could be. Probably. We dont much to go on, Harry, but were working on it. At least you and Mortimer dont to worry about evil five year olds or jetsam. Lachlan chuckled. Thanks for jinxing us, Lachlan. Has there been any word from Mortimer? Harry replaced his glasses on his face and stretched his arms.

Lachlan shook his head. No, but we dont expect word for a while. The Bulgarian Office of Aurors sent a communication that they were chasing a lead in a remote region , so well just have to wait on that. What about you, how goes your trip to the Italian Riviera? Harry chuckled. Ive forgotten how much I hate sea travel. We should get to Piombino sometime tomorrow morning and then well head over to Volterra. I suspect they know were coming. What makes you say that? Lachlan asked. Harry shrugged his shoulders. Just a feeling, really, but I cant shake the feeling that were being watched. Harry, youre miles out to sea. Lachlan admonished. Exactly, and I still have that feeling anyway. Harry sighed. Im going to sign off, Lachlan. Stay on Eric and Rons cases. Theres something bigger there, I suspect. Will do, Harry. And Harry? Lachlans fire set eyes bore into Harrys. Watch your bac k out there and whatever you do, avoid shaking hands with Aro, the leader of the Volturi. Hell be able to read your thoughts. I know. Ill floo you later. Harry waved his hand and Lachlans fiery head disappeared in a puff of smoke and soot. *** The Aurora was night and day different from the Discooperire. She was a yawl rigged ship, much sleeker and narrower of beam. She rode lower in the water and sliced through the waves like a bounding hound on the hunt. She was painted black, marking her as a member of the Malfoy shipping empire, but Muireall Innes didnt care. As far as she was concerned, the Aurora was hers. She remembered when Adelina had taken command of the Discooperire. Muireall had noted an almost immediate sense of possession and pride in her former captains expression. To Muireall, the Discooperire had been another ship, but the day Draco Malfoy handed her the ownership papers of this ship, shed felt the bond in her heart. The ship and the captain were one. Nothing would ever match that feeling. Muireall scanned the horizon. She stood beside the large wooden wheel where her helmsman expertly kept the bow of the ship close to the wind. The sails were trimmed tight, like airplane wings, with the warm Mediterranean winds gliding effortlessly across their canvas, guiding the ship along its course. Her first mate had just turned over the watch to her and the sun was setting behind them, on a direct line for the Straits of Gibraltar. Nothing was more scintillating as this experience. Standing high on her own quarterdeck, captain of a sea-going vessel. Nothing could quell her mood, that is, except for the mission they were on. It wasnt the destination, though that was frightening enough as it was. Running pell mell f or the most powerful coven of vampires in the known world wasnt a task that she took lightly. More importantly, she was searching for her friend and mentor, Adelina Barreto. Barreto and her ship had given Muireall her start and instilled a love of the open ocean within her bones. Anything that could take the Adelina Barreto out was a threat, to be sure. She shuddered and wished Eric had come with them, although she understood Harrys reasoning for not assigning her husband to this task. She saw Harry come on deck. Shed worked with the Auror for almost a decade now and she saw how the years had changed and shaped him. He still stood ramrod straight. His shoulders were broader, perhaps, but he was still trim. A few years back, Harry had grown distant and seemed overwhelmed by the events

that theyd gone through. Now, the old Harry seemed to be back. He looked more like the wild -eyed adventurer shed first met on their journey to Atlantis. She caught his eye and he smiled and waved. She waited while he walked across the deck, stopping periodically to chat with crew members and some of the Aurors whod accompanied him on the voyage. Sean Manchester was going through a training routine with a pair of his more inexperienced team members and Harry watched them for a moment. Finally, Harry climbed the stairs to the quarterdeck and nodded to her. Were making good time, Harry. Well get to Piombino sometime just before dawn. Harry nodded, but stayed silent. Did you finish your floo call? He hesitated and then sighed. Yes, and Eric is fine. He ran into a bit of a fight, but he managed to pull his team through. An edge of anxiety passed through her chest. Knowing Eric and the Aurors, she knew their jobs were dangerous, to be sure. Still, if Harry wasnt overly concerned, she wasnt. He strode to where she was standing and looked over the aft rail at the rapidly setting sun and then glanced warily at the darkening sky. I wish I knew whether Adelina disappeared before or after she saw the Volturi. He watched as a pair of dolphins frolicked in the frothing wake alongside the ship. Muireall nodded. Well, we certainly will find out once you talk to these vampires. She hesitated and chewed absently on her bottom lip. Do you think well run into problems? Who knows? Harry responded. You know our history with vampires. Those were wizard-vampire hybrids, Harry. They probably dont mean anything to the Volturi. Still, shed felt the same sort anxiety Harry was talking about. From everything that we know about the Volturi, they have established themselves as the de facto arbiter of all matters vampire. There was an American wizard named Stephenie Meyer who wrote about how blazingly rigid the Volturi were about any type of threat that hybrids could pose to vampire lines. Harry faced the bow, his profile lost in the light cast by a full moon. They have a habit of interfering with covens that take action that could be misconstrued as endangering the greater vampire population. Muireall basked in the lunar glow, her pale skin seemed translucent in the bright moonlight. They didnt interfere in the Kirklees Burke matter, did they? Harry shook his head. No, not in any way that I know of, but true vampires can be a tric ky lot. Theyre nothing like the foolishness that Gilderoy Lockhart wrote about. From everything Ive seen, the Volturi should have intervened in the Burke business, yet as far as we know, they didnt. As far as we know? Muirealls eyes narrowed. Harry nodded. As far as we know. They have a history of playing in the shadows, but we dont know for certain that they werent there or didnt endorse what Burke was trying to do and that makes me nervous. Muireall smiled and then laughed, a funny, pretty giggle that caused her porcelain cheeks to redden to a shade similar to her full lips. Thats the only thing making you nervous? She asked Harry coyly.

Harry flushed involuntarily. Well no, when Ginnys starts whispering sweet nothings in my ea r, I get nervous too. The two friends shared a laugh and then Harry sighed. I suppose Id best get some rest. Twilight is just about over and if youre tracking is right, well get there sometime early morning. I want to be ready for whatever we find. He smiled and proceeded down towards his cabin. He had just enough time to use his mirror shard to talk to Ginny and the kids before turning in. Muireall Innes watched Harry depart and then drew an ancient telescope from a battered leather case on the map table. She did a quick scan around the horizon and then focused on the direction they were heading. A menacing squall line of dark storm clouds was rapidly descending ahead of them, shrouding the light of the moon and obscuring their destination. Muireall shivered and hoped that it wasnt an omen of what was to come. *** Mr. Potter? Harry rose from his slumber and mechanically reached for his glasses in the darkness of his cabin. He turned and saw a member of the crew standing in the hatchway, holding a dimly lit lantern. Mr. Potter, the Captain requested that you come to the quarterdeck, were almost there. Harry instantly became alert. What time is it? Approximately 3 AM, sir. We made good time. The storm never hit us. Harry swi veled his hips and placed his feet on the deck. He hadnt remembered seeing any storm. Thank you, please inform the Captain Ill be along shortly. Yes sir. The sailor backed out of the cabin and closed the hatch. Harry rose and dressed quickly . He made his way back on deck and walked up to Muireall. Are we there yet? Harry asked briskly. Muireall pointed to a dark land mass a few miles off the port bow. Thats Elba. Piombino is on the mainland on the other side. Elba? The place where Napoleon was first exiled? Harry asked absently. The same. They say its a haven for dark creatures and pirates. She responded quietly. Well, pirates arent so bad. Harry quipped and then settled for the final run to port. *** The port of Piombino dated back to the Etruscans, over three thousand years earlier. Still a vibrant port, even in the darkness of the early morning, Muireall had to make Auroras approach with a certain dexterity. The helmsman guided the ship past a pair of outbound ferries heading to Elba and Sardinia and maneuvered towards the oldest portion of the harbor. Once a haven from Greek pirates (Phoenicians perhaps, thought Harry), the old harbor was the main berthing area for vessels operating under the guise of the International Confederation of Wizards. When they approached, the dock was clear, as wizarding ships tended to leave before dawn, so as to save on the cost of obscuration charms against prying muggle eyes.

Within in short time, theyd docked and were firmly tied alongside the pier. Harry met Sean and his team at the brow, waiting for the gangway to be lowered. The team was dressed in a wide variety of clothing and styles, in order to blend with the muggle population. Harry decided that a suit and tie were probably most appropriate, given he would be dealing with vampire royalty. He also wore a long, black trench coat and slung his beaten leather satchel over his shoulder. He was about to lead the team off the ship when he heard the footsteps of the captain approaching. Muireall was wearing civilian attire, dark slacks and a heavy blouse under a dark blue wool peacoat. Where are you going? Harry asked. With you. Muireall said firmly. She held up her hand before Harry could object. Adeli na is my friend, Harry, and theres nothing you can do or say that will prevent me from being part of this. Harry clamped his mouth shut and then turned and led his team off the ship. Sean, Harry and Muireall walked side by side down the narrow alley between the warehouses that dotted the waterfront. Sean used hand signals to position his team to guard against surprises. So, whats the plan? Sean asked. Well, we need to get to Volterra. We can either take the train or try to broom it there ourselves. Just as Harry spoke the words, the street lamps suddenly darkened. There was a loud thud and a muffled cry as one of the lead Aurors fell to the ground. Harry and Sean flicked their wrists and snap drew their wands. Sean issued orders to his team. Perimeter defense, whos down? Looks like Margaret, Sean. Whispered Seans lead Auror, a wizard named Grant. There was another noise and thud. Grant grumbled. They got Andre too. Who got them? Where are they? Sean snapped. We need details, people. Harry, Sean and Muireall stood back to back as a low mist began to form around their ankles. Whats our status, Grant? Sean whispered, but got no reply. Grant? Harry quickly scanned the area and saw a blur of movement. He sent a quick spell which missed and then he heard Sean groan. He turned to look at his friend and saw Sean lying on the ground in a heap. Then he heard a strangled cry from Muireall and he whirled on his heel and brought his wand up. A stunningly gorgeous and statuesque woman with long lustrous mahogany hair and impossibly long legs was holding Muireall against a wall by the captains neck. Her skin was pale, almost transparent, very much like the skin of an onion, yet smooth and unblemished. Harry aimed his wand at the woman. Put her down, now. Harry said, his voice full of serious intent. The woman turned and smiled wickedly. Harry took a deep breath. Her eyes were a wild shade of violet, but the color seemed forced, almost artificial, as if she were wearing blue contacts over red eyes. Harry gripped his wand tightly. Red eyes could only mean one thing. The woman spoke in a soothing, smooth voice. My name is Heidi, Mr. Potter and you have been expected. The woman dropped Muireall and the captain fell to the ground, unconscious as far as Harry could tell. At least she was still breathing. The woman, Heidi, stood with her hands on her hips.

Youre people are alive, however, the Volturi have no desire for you to bring armed wizards into the ir midst. I am their hunter and they sent me to retrieve you. They will speak only to you. Harry dropped his wand to his side and looked quickly at his companions. How do I know I can trust you? You dont and frankly I dont care if you do, but if you wish to speak to the Volturi, you will come with me now. She jerked her head behind her. Dawn will be here soon, and I am not a big fan of the sunlight. Besides, if we leave now, we can make the first train to Volterra and the train is the only way to see the countryside. She smiled and waved Harry ahead of her. Harry didnt hesitate. With one last look at Sean and Muireall, he stepped towards the alley and he and his new guide disappeared into the early morning mist. Chapter 294 Dancing on the Edge of a Razor The sound of moving water caused Luna to slowly rouse to awareness. When she opened her eyes, she felt a slow, throbbing pain in her temple and noticed how dark it was in the room she was in. She made an attempt to sit up and immediately regretted the move, as a sharp pain rushed through her temple. A small moan escaped her lips and then she dragged herself upright and looked around. Silas attack had been quick and brutal and shed not had enough time to draw her wand. Thankful ly, it was still in her inside pocket and she drew it now, mumbling through the words to produce a shallow ball of light. She took an anxious glance around the chamber. The rapid brook shed fallen into had gradually lessened to a small rivulet that ended a shallow pool. Shed been deposited on the bank of the sandstone shelf that bordered the pool. She looked back and tried to trace the course of the brook behind her but it disappeared after several hundred yards into the darkness. Slowly, she rose to her feet and swayed unsteadily, force the wand to dance madly in the light. She took a few moments to steady herself and then took a long look about her. The light of her wand seemed to dissipate against the walls of the cavern she was in. On a second look, she discovered that the walls were black, made of onyx and absorbed most of the light her wand was emitting. Her eyes were drawn to something lying up against one of the walls. She took a cautious step forward and was bolstered by the fact that the room didnt spin when she did. Slowly, she made her way to object that caught her eye. In a dusty heap, was a skeleton, clad in tattered scraps of cloth. She looked closer, her trained scientists eye picking out details that surprised her. Despite t he desiccated condition of the remains, the clothing told her that whoever was lying here was a relative newcomer to the dig site. The clothing was tattered, but more contemporary than that of a tenth century denizen. It was brown and rough, light tan on the inner coat and the large robe over top of everything was a darker brown. A memory in the back of Lunas head harkened back to a time before. The body below was wearing a uniform of some sort, one that was vaguely familiar to her. She knelt down to investigate the area around the body. Near one bony hand, there was a small, narrow cylinder made of metal just outside the reach of the fingers. She reached down and grasped it. It had a small red button along the side. Absently, she depressed the b utton and she heard a familiar snap-hiss sound. A line of energy extended from the cylinder and she took a quick look back at the figure. Of course, she thought to herself, this man had to be an American. He was wearing what Stan Greenbergs students had worn during the War with the Confederation. She was holding his wand-saber. She touched the button once more and extinguished the blade. Her face was tight from trying to puzzle the mystery together. What was this American doing here? What had he found in Charlemagnes tomb? What did it have to do with why Silas went off the deep end before? She took a deep breath. Had it been nargles? ***

The silence in the compartment forced Harry to notice every detail of his surroundings. The train barreled along at a breathless pace, its rhythmic movements doing little to sooth his anxiety. His escort sat still on the bench opposite from him, and closer to the door, avoiding any real desire to sit near the window and experience the light of rising sun. Over the course of the journey, hed tried to engage her in conversation, yet she hadnt responded, so they sat there together in silence. The racing countryside was barely noticeable and Harry had a vague sense of disorientation as they hurtled towards Volterra. The Vulturi had known he was coming, and now, he was alone with a woman whod managed to overcome a full team of his Aurors in less than thirty seconds. Harry marveled at her prowess. He really didnt know anything about vampires, really. The wizard-vampire hybrids that Kirklees Burke had sought to unleash on the world were distinct from real vampires, but how distinct was a question that Harry could not answer. He looked back out the window and then turned to Heidi. Is it true you cant stand direct sunlight? Is that why youre sitting all the way over there, away from the window? He asked. Heidi snorted and turned her unnaturally violet eyes in his direction. Whered you get that from, a Count Chocula box? She laughed, but there was no real mirth in the expression. No, Mr. Potter, sunlight doesnt make us melt like the Wicked Witch of the West. Its toxic and it impairs our more supernatural abilities, but its not deadly. She sighed briefly and her face seemed to soften somewhat. We are creatures of the night. Our immortality is a thing of the shadows and thrives best in the darkness, however, we are also creatures of nature and do not fear the light of day. Harry nodded, stunned that shed responded at all. He wondered if he should press the opening. Do you drink blood? This time her smile was genuine and it seemed feral, almost lethal. That part Bram Stoker got right. Theres nothing like human blood to drive immortality. Its a hunger, a craving thats almost u nbearable and when you can sink your teeth into a victim and feel the warmth of their life flowing into you, theres nothing like that feeling, its indescribable. Harry shuddered inside and unconsciously felt for his wand secured to his wrist. Heidi saw his anxiety and laughed. It was a beautiful yet completely unnerving sound from her. Dont you worry, Mr. Potter. My instructions are quite clear. Im to bring you before the Volturi intact. Not one ounce of your body is to be harmed and not one drop of your blood is to be harvested. She smiled wickedly, the fiery red of her natural eyes seemed to burn through the cosmetic lenses. Yet, that is. She turned to face forward, a satisfied grin on her face while Harry was left to sit and wait as the train rushed on. *** I dont know what came over me. Silas grumbled. Hed already apologized more times than Mortimer wanted, but the large Aurors shame was on prominently displayed. Mortimer nodded to one of his Aurors to stand next to Silas and wandered over to where Viktor Krum was standing. Have you got it contained? Mortimer asked the brooding Bulgarian. Viktor was standing with his arms out, his wand extended. His normally grim visage was darker, in concentration and a row of beaded sweat drops was forming on his forehead. A blue light was emanating from his wand and reached out and encompassed the empty crate in a protective globe.

Viktor ignored Mortimer, focusing on his spell. Mortimer didnt take offense, given what the crat e had seemingly done to Silas. Of all of them, Krum was the most accomplished wizard and his idea of a containment spell was best left to his devices. After a few moments, Viktor dropped his arms to his side, but the globe of light remained around the crate. Its done. Viktor muttered. He raised his wand and pointed to several areas of the barrier. For the most part, the azure light remained constant, however, every so often, a bit of red light would bleed out momentarily. Its not perfect, but it seems to be holding. I will have to watch it to make sure it does not break out. Mortimer nodded and then turned and followed the stream until he reached the place where Luna had disappeared. Charlie, Billie and Rolf where looking down into the darkened abyss, looking for ways to descend or for some sign of Luna. The thin Auror team leader strode up. Anything? Rolf was in a state of subdued shock and did not respond. Charlie saw his pain and answered for them. Nothing so far. Its dark down there, darker than it should be for a cavern like this. He stretched his arm to the walls of the treasury, which were composed of bright limestone and had an unnatural light emanating off of them. Then he leaned down and pointed his wand into the hole and sent a puff of fire downward. The fireball seemed bright and fell at a distance and disappeared. Mortimer nodded and then put a reassuring hand on Rolfs shoulder. The front of Rolfs shirt was tattered from the blast hed taken from Silas ra mpage. Mortimer nodded to one of his Aurors, waving him over. Rolf, were going to find her, but you need to be looked at. Rolf seemed to snap out of his stupor. I cant leave her. Im going with you. His voice wavered and he stood unsteady on his feet. Mortimer shook his head. No, not this time, Rolf, dont worry, well find her. Mortimer flicked his wrist and tapped his wand on the top of Rolfs head. He turned to his Auror. Dale, take care of him. Wait here and assist Viktor. Well be back in a bit. The Auror nodded and Mortimer turned and smiled at Charlie. Well, I guess theres only one way to find out what happened to Luna. Mortimer held up his wand. Lumos. Billie Tunstall smiled, but Charlie seemed a bit nervous. The long time dragon tamer swallowed hard and looked down at the black hole. It seems pretty high up. Mortimer arched an eyebrow. Youre a dragon tamer, Charlie. Dont tell me youre afraid of heights. Hes deathly afraid of heights. Billie snickered. Its not the fall that kills you, its the landing. Charlie said menacingly. Mortimer laughed out loud. Then, wed better land soft. With that, he muttered a spell while extending his arms, forming the glide wings from his robes. Then he dove head first into the darkness over the falls. Billie was no more than a step behind him and after a brief grunt, Charlie leapt off into the blackness. ***

The train ride itself was uneventful and shorter than hed thought it would be. The station had been cut into a tunnel inside of a small mountain. Heidi stood as the locomotive applied its brakes and motioned for Harry to follow her. He stood and followed his guide out onto the platform of the station and they immediately plunged into the crowd. The Volturi hunter kept a rapid pace and muggles in the crowd, while not necessarily recognizing what she was, understood to stay out of her way. She led them beyond the turnstiles and took a sharp turn down an abandoned tunnel that looked like a service area for the station. They followed the tunnel and finally she stopped at a solid, wrought iron door with a sign saying Maintenance in Italian over the arch. Heidi lifted a hidden panel next to the door which revealed a very modern electronic keypad underneath. She punched in some numbers and the door opened soundlessly, and allowed them entry. They found themselves inside a brightly lit corridor that was finished in rich wooden details. It looked like the hallway of a museum, with lush carpeting and numerous works of art dotted the walls and were prominently displayed. The ceiling arched high into the air and was marked by scores of intricate and ancient crystal chandeliers. At the end of the hallway, a tall man with wavy black hair to his shoulders stood idly, his burgundy eyes following Harry. Heidi nodded slightly to him. Demetri. She greeted the man. He kept a hooded, venomous gaze at Harry. Despite the obvious distrust, Harry found himself fascinated by the guards complexion. He had o live skin with a overtone of a chalky pallor which seemed odd. Heidi kept moving and led Harry through a set of large mahogany double doors that led to a very ordinary, although well appointed, conference room. Harry walked inside and the doors closed behind him. His minder, Heidi, was nowhere to be seen. Welcome to Volterra, Mr. Potter. Harry saw a man standing in the corner of the room, near an ornate ivory bar. He had long, fine hair that was midnight black and had not a strand out of place. Like the others hed seen, his skin was pale, almost translucent and his eyes appeared burgundy, but clouded, almost milky. He was pouring a brown liquid into a pair of fine crystal glasses and then he turned and smiled. He gestured to a seat at the table and Harry took the proffered chair. The man moved to the table. His movements were smooth, giving the appearance that he was floating rather than walking. He placed the glass in front of Harry and took a seat at the head of the table. Id shake your hands, but considering that you probably know as much about me as I know about you, Im sure youd be rather embarrassed in declining. There was a hint of humor in the mans voice. Harry nodded gratefully and picked up the glass. It was then he noticed two other figures seated at the table. One was a man, also with pale skin, who had shoulder length hair that was a brilliant shade of white, almost the direct opposite of the host. The other was a woman, or what Harry thought was a woman. She was tiny, with lank, pale brown hair that was trimmed short. Even seated, Harry could tell she was slim, but had a rather androgynous figure with a face too pretty for a boy. She had wide-eyes and full lips that were grim, no hint of a smile. Harry took a sip of the liquid. It was scotch, rather old scotch that was smooth and he nodded appreciatively. You must be Aro. It came out as a statement of fact, not a question. The man smiled. Of course. Aro held up his own glass and chuckled. One of the ben efits of our lifestyle; I can age my own stock quite well and frankly theres nothing more soothing than three hundred year old scotch. Harry smiled in agreement and Aro looked over at his companions. As much as I appreciate fine liquor, it ha s rendered my manners lacking. These are my companions. This is Caius, my associate and Jane, one our guards. Caius simply offered Harry a disdainful glance, while Jane smiled slightly and said hello in a surprisingly child-like voice. A voice cleared behind Aro and he laughed. He turned his chair and revealed another woman standing close to him, almost touching him. Oh, Im sorry, and this is Renata. She is always so close to me, I almost forget she is there. His eyes narrowed slightly. Almost.

He turned his chair and faced Harry. So, Mr. Potter, I understand you wish to discuss something with me? Harry slowly reached into the inside pocket of his jacket. He paused and watched Jane, who had a guarded expression on her face. He held out a hand and then removed a small coin. My Ministry had originally sent a ship and crew to see you about this. He placed the coin on the table and slid it towards Aro. He deftly picked up the coin and studied its surface. Ah, Phoenician, isnt it? Harry nodded. Aro flipped the coin idly. The Phoenicians were a little before my time, even for someone of my advanced years. Harry watched as Aro studied the coin. Most intelligence briefings had the vampire being born somewhere around 1000 AD. Still, from what Ive heard, I can understand why this coin would cause such a stir. Imagine, the continent of North America on a coin that predates the Roman Empire. He smiled and then grew serious. Of course, the coin isnt why youre here, is it Mr. Potter? No sir. Im sure the coin has some sort of archeological value, but Im here to find out about my people. Harry said. Well, I will tell you that your ship and your people never got here. Oh, we received the request, but they never got here. Aro said pensively. Do you know what happened to them? Harry watched as Aros eyes flickered ever so briefly to Caius. The vampire hesitated and then nodded slowly. I dont know who, but I know why, or I have part of the story, anyway. Harry leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. Aro sighed. Do you know what the real impact of your war with Leclerc was? You mean besides preserving the freedom and liberty of our country? Harry responded, almost too quickly. Aro laughed. Besides that, of course, but no Im talking about evil. You drained the well of evil. Not entirely, to be sure, but you definitely tipped the balance. Some would say that the equilibrium would have to be reestablished. Some meaning you? Harry asked pointedly, bringing Janes scrutiny on him once more. Aro waved his hand slightly. Whatever we may be, Mr. Potter, we are not evil, at least in the sense that you consider the word. We are here to preserve our race, that is all. No, I am talking about powers that would seek a way to reintroduce evil into the world, probably through the same means that the original balance was achieved. How was that done? Harry asked. Oh, there are many stories, many legends, but they have a common thread. He held the coin up to the light. But this is the key to knowing where to look and more importantly, who is behind everything. Harry stared at the coin and shuddered from a chill that swept the room. Aro cast a deep, penetrating gaze at Harry. Ill tell you what you want to know, but youre treading dangerous ground here, Mr. Potter. Harry stared at the coin then back at Aro. I just want to get my people back.

Are you sure about this? Aro asked quietly. Harry swallowed and fought back the voice in his head that was screaming for him to refuse. Instead, Harry nodded and took another sip of his scotch. Chapter 295 Angel of Mercy Lunas attention was pulled from the remains on the floor of the cavern and drawn sounds emanating from the distance. She whirled around and pointed her wand outward, both as a means to glimpse what was coming and to have her wand at the ready. There were tell-tale burn marks on the corpse indicated blast marks that could only have come from a blasting spell. She swayed unsteadily and then gripped her wand hand with her other, to level her aim. She realized, after a moment, that shed stopped breathing, the anxiety momentarily overcoming her. She reached out, ready to defend herself. Luna? Mortimers voice seemed deafening in the darkness and she felt herself relaxing, if only a little, considering that the reason she was down here was because of a berserk attack by Silas. She steadied herself as she watched as three figures appeared from the darkness. Luna, its Mortimer. Unconsciously, she felt the tension ebb from her shoulders and she realized that she hadnt been breathing. She exhaled sharply and smiled as Mortimer, Charlie and Billie wound their way to where she stood. Mortimer allowed his own sigh of relief. Are you all right? He took in her face, bruised and bloody from her ordeal and gently waved his wand over the more obvious wounds. She nodded thankfully and then pointed towards the body on the ground. Were not alone here. Mortimer knelt down and shone the light from his wand on the remains. He made a cursory glance and they dug his fingers into the tattered pockets of the poor soul who lie there. American, from the looks of him. Hed pulled a battered leather bifold from the one r emaining pocket and opened it. David Garside. He mumbled and then stared wide-eyed at the small, golden shield on the obverse side of the wallet. Federal Bureau of Aurors? Charlie shrugged his shoulders. Ive never heard of them. Ive had my own run ins with law enforcement, I cant say that Ive heard of them either. She ignored Charlies snorts and focused on checking out the rest of Lunas injuries. Mortimer remained silent, his eyes switching focus between the wallet and the body. Finally he rose and pocketed the wallet. Ive heard of them. The Americans really focused on organizing after the war. Theyve got themselves a proper wizarding government and the FBA was their equivalent of our Office of Aurors. He glanced back down at the body. Still, I have no idea why this person was here and what it has to do with that crate up in the chamber. Well, whatever is going on, it seems that well have to check in the states. Charlie commented and Mortimer agreed. Thats for later. Right now, lets get Luna out of here and find a way to transport that box back. He aimed his wand in the direction they came. What about him? Billie asked.

Mortimer stopped and then aimed his wand at the body. At the same time, he pulled a small mason jar from his kit bag. He muttered a spell and the remains of David Garside were surrounded in a green light and disappeared. Like tendrils of smoke, the light meandered into the open mouth of the jar and then Mortimer screwed the lid on tight. The jar was swirling with brightly lit greenish smoke, like fireflies on summer evening. I suppose we can try to return Mr. Garside from whence he came as well. He replaced the jar into his bag. Maybe someone knows who he is. *** Aro stared at Harry and smiled. Well, Mr. Potter, do you want to know what youve run into? Harry leaned back and nodded. Aro placed his hands in front of him. There is a balance between good and evil in the world. You, whether intentionally or not, drastically tipped the balance towards the good. He raised a hand to prevent Harry from protesting. Im not making a judgment here, Mr. Potter, only an observation. You arent the first person to do that in the history of the world, nor will you be the last, but there is always someone who comes along to reset the equilibrium. Aro thumbed the coin in his hand. This coin is representative of a time when the world was set back in equilibrium. What do you know about the Phoenician queen, Jezebel? Not much, really. Harry admitted. Not that you would, but Jezebel was a princess who was married to King Ahab in order to cement a dynastic relationship between the Phoenicians and the northern tribes of Israel. Some say she was the epitome of the modern woman, others would say she was evil incarnate. What she did was find a way to establish a boundary between good and evil and then sent her galleys abroad to hide that secret. Aro paused. Where she hid it was on this coin. What did she hide? Harry asked. Aros eyes glazed a milky white and his voice dropped an octave. Pandoras Box, Mr. Potter, the source of sin in the world. Harry took a deep breath. You cant be serious. Oh, the story of the first woman and her release of sin upon mankind are many . Eve and the Garden or Pandora and her box, its all the same. Whether it was true evil released or the knowledge of God remains a steady debate, but we do know that balance between good and evil is in constant flux. You emptied the well of evil, now, it would appear, someone seeks to refill it. Aro held up the Phoenician coin between his thumb and forefinger. This coin tells people where the box was hidden. Harry stared at the coin. Who wants to open the box? Aro leaned back. I do not know. In this matter, we, He held his arms open, pointing to Casius and Jane, are merely casual bystanders in this matter. We are neither good nor evil, and we have nothing but a passing interest in the matters of man.

Aro placed the coin on the table and removed his hand. Harry warily took up the coin. Thats it? Thats what you know? I admit, its not as much as Id like, but you do have a map to follow. He pointed to the coin. What about the Discooperire and her crew? Aro shrugged his sho ulders. I dont know what happened to them, Mr. Potter. Of course, find who wants the box and youll more than likely learn your friends fate as well. Aro rose slowly. Of course, there is one small matter, which may preclude you from conducting your search. What is that? Harry asked. For a single moment, Aros eyes grew blood red, clear of their misty haze. He smiled evilly. You can give a true accounting for the death of a vampire coven. He motioned with his hand to Jane. You can tell me why you ended the life of Kirklees Burke. Harry felt a sharp pain start in the bottom of his spine and radiate up to his head. He fell from his chair and screamed. *** The woman had dark eyes and long, flowing black hair, but if seen on the street in a crowd, posed a rather unremarkable portrait. It wasnt that she was plain, but she hardly stood out. That fact had caused her lose out on things she wanted. She knew she had extraordinary attributes, yet she had been cheated out of her just due over and over again. She was bold, and that boldness had led her to exploring ways to achieve her ends through nefarious means. During her adulthood, shed bandied about from place to place, trying to find her way in life until she realized that in that end eavor, shed been trying to conform to what normal society had expected from her. The news of the day had been a constant companion, and her eyes glared at the countless tales of heroism and derring do that emanated from the Ministry. Shed had a nat ural predilection to hate the newsmakers, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger. They were goody two-shoes, after all. So she decided to examine the other side of the spectrum. Shed become fascinated with not only the Dark Arts, but with the notion of evil. After the war had ended, shed noticed that finding evil in its pure state was more and more difficult, but she was intelligent and bold, so she researched the matter and found her course. The problem wasnt the mechanism. Good and evi l were in a state of constant flux, always trying to find balance. No, the problem was that evil had been kept in check. Once the box had been opened, someone had always found a way to close it. Thats how shed be different. She would find a way to cr eate a constant imbalance in the natural order. Shed find the box. Shed open it and then, shed find a way for it never to be closed again. That would show them. That would teach them for minimizing her. That would teach them all. Most of all, it would teach one Harry James Potter that she was not one to be trifled with, ever. She smiled without mirth. Now, it was time to ratchet things up. She walked down the street and headed to the home of one Michelle Pravus. *** On the surface, Jane was not a very intimidating presence. She was thin, almost child-like. She had large, wide eyes that could almost be mistaken for an expression of innocence. But looks, as always, were very

deceiving. Jane was one of the most capable and dangerous of the Volturi guards. Her power was the ability to transmit and express pain in her victims. Harry fell to his knees as uncontrollable pain coursed through his body. The veins on his temple popped out and he felt beads of sweat forming on his brow. Through the haze of torture, he watched as Aro started moving around the table, the ubiquitous form of Renata moving with him, her hands lightly caressing the back of this robes. Harry knew what Aro wanted to do. His movements told him as much. It was Aros intent to lay hands on Harry, to rip Harrys memories for some reason. Aro had a satisfied glow on his face. Many had fought Janes ability and very few successfully fought her off. Potter was a human, a powerful one, but still a human and vampires, after all, were superior. Aro, however, did not have the full sum of Harrys measure. Harry Potter knew pain, dreadful pain, both physical and emotional, even unto death. Hed suffered throughout his life and had been able to overcome the worst possible circumstances. To be sure, what Jane was throwing at him was harsh, but not debilitating. He was, after all, Harry Potter. Harry raised his right hand and flicked his wrist. His wand shot out from its spring-loaded sheath and snapped into his hand. Confrigo! A bolt of light snapped from the tip of his wand and struck the large, oaken table, shattering it in a violent explosion of flame and debris. The force of the blast sent Caius and Jane flying into the wall behind them, the impact of their bodies cracking the stone wall. A flash of confusion overwhelmed Aros expression. Harry whipped his wand to face the ancient historian. Suddenly, a wave of confusion swept over Harry. He barely registered the fire in Renatas burgundy eyes as she enveloped her charge in a wall of utter chaos. Harry lost track of where he was and what he was doing. He took a slight step towards Aro and then stopped. He felt someone take a solid grip on his wrist and he saw Aros face locked in a gaze of utter intensity. It was like someone was pouring his memories out of a pitcher, forcing to relive every second of his life in a brief instant. There was a bright flash of light and Aro fell back, as if the weight of Harrys memories were too intense for him to digest in one sitting. His momentum carried him into Renata and the pair fell to the ground, releasing Harry from the web of confusion. Harry collected his wits quickly and blew out the doors at the end of the room and ran out into the main hallway. Demetri was dazed from the explosion of the double doors and Harry bound him quickly with a spell. Harry ran down the hall that led to the train station and stopped in his tracks. Ahead of him were four more Volturi guards, with Heidi standing at their head, her arms folded. He felt a movement of air and saw three more behind him. Harry held his wand steady, making careful calculations of his chances, but given how Heidi had overwhelmed Seans team by herself, he pretty much figured he was done. Still, it wouldnt do to go down without a fight. Heidi smiled evilly and nodded at Harry. Before she leapt, two of the massive chandeliers came crashing to the floor. One was in front of Harry, between Heidis group and him and the other behind Harry, blocking the Volturi guards behind him. Harrys eyes widened as he spotted two figures, each riding the cascading chandeliers to the floor and rolling to their feet upon impact. The man standing behind Harry was short and wiry, with short platinum blonde hair and a long, leather trench coat. He had a smarmy grin on his face and he smiled facing the guards behind Harry. The man facing Heidi was tall, wearing a black wind breaker which stopped about mid thigh. He had dark hair and a kind face and his appearance caused Heidi to pause with a gasp. You! Heidi sneered. Miss me, Heidi? The man spoke with a surprisingly soft voice.

His companion shouted in a cockney accent. We dont have time for reunions, lets get out of here! Heidi took a deep breath and she let loo se a menacing smile. Ive been waiting for a long time for this chance, Angelus. The man flashed a smile and then let fly a roundhouse kick that caught Heidi flat-footed and sent her reeling into her cohorts blocking the door. He turned and glanced at Harry. Actually, my name is Angel and I was sent to pull you out of here, Harry. Thats Spike, hes expendable. He pointed to his companion. Spike snorted and cursed vulgarly and then snapped his arm out, catching one of his opponents straight in the face. Harry looked at his rescuers. Sent by who? Angel blocked a punch from an onrushing guard and dropped his elbow on the mans back. I think we should wait until we get out of here before we worry about that question. Harry didnt have an argument for that so he sent a spell down the hall, bringing another chandelier crashing to the floor and blocking the end of the hall. Spike laughed appreciatively. Thats the spirit, nothing like a little home remodeling to get their blood up. Harry blasted the walls all around, bringing debris and smoke into the mix. Angel quickly dispatched another opponent. Weve got to go now. Theyre surprised, but they wont stay that way for long. They ran down the hall and pushed open the door leading to the train station. Harry drew a small plastic ball from his pant pocket and tossed into the hall behind them. A cloud of Peruvian Darkness Powder covered their escape. They emerged on the main platform and the Rome Express was passing through at a high rate of speed, since Volterra was not a stop on its route. Angel grasped Harry by the back of the collar and made a superhuman leap that carried the pair to the roof of one of the cars. Rapidly, Angel tore open an access hatch and dropped down into the train, just before the train emerged into the midday sun. Almost to his chagrin, Spike had followed them and the three sat down in the empty compartment and drew the shades. Harry felt his breathing coming under control and then he stared at his rescuers. Perhaps, now you could tell me what in Merlins name is going on. *** Caius ran from the conference room and was met by the scene of destruction left in the wake of Harrys escape. Heidi pulled herself to her feet, her eyes flashing red beneath her c ontacts. It was Angelus. Im going after them. Caius nodded and the team started gathering. Heidi continued. Theyll head for their ship. If we take the underground cisterns, well catch them before they can leave port. Even if they do, theres nowhere to hide from us. Well catch Angelus and Spike and Ill drink Potters blood. Wait. Aro stumbled into the hallway. Wait. He paused and drew a ragged breath. Let them go. Youll take no action against them. But Potter murdered the Burke Coven, Aro. He must pay for spilling vampire blood. Caius face reddened as much as his sallow skin would allow. Aro shook his head. No, he didnt. Kirklees Burke was an abomination, a wizard and a vampire and she sought to create a hybrid race that would dominate the world, including our kind. From what I saw in his

memories, Potter not only saved his people, he saved us as well when he stopped her plans. The Volturi have no argument with Harry Potter. His voice was firm, signifying that he would brook no argument. Heidi snorted. And Angelus? As long as hes helping Potter, Angelus is off limits. After Potter completes his task? Aro shrugged his shoulders. Heidi smiled. Then Angelus will be mine. Chapter 296 Choices of Destiny ***Twenty five years earlier*** Lydia Simms turned seventeen, the age of majority among witches, while hiding in the back corner of her closet. She heard her father rumbling about downstairs, overturning furniture and breaking things in his blind rage. She gripped her wand tightly, wondering if what shed learned at her school would be enough. She didnt feel her chest tighten as she stopped breathing. His footsteps were thumping on the stairs, slowly, loudly, sending an echo through the thinly walled flat. Her mother had been an extraordinarily talented witch whod fallen in love with a blue collar muggle. The illness that had taken her from her husband and daughter had been sudden. Lydia had just passed her seventh birthday when that had happened. The wand in her hand had been her mothers, lovingly cared for and tended to in the years of pain and suffering that followed. Her father had blamed the little girl for the death of his wife. It hadnt helped that he was in and out of work over those years. Hed taken to drinking, which led to the physical and mental abuse he piled on his daughter. Nothing she did seemed to be enough. It started with an open handed slap and continued to escalate as she grew. The only respite had been when a kindly old man with a long beard and appeared after her eleventh birthday to invite her to a boarding school for wizards. Her father would have none of it. Her invitation to Hogwarts was refused on the spot. Instead, she was enrolled in a muggle school in her local town. Fortunately, there was a teacher there, Mr. Kline, who was a squib. He immediately recognized her for what she was and offered what instruction he could sneak in without her father knowing. Around her thirteenth birthday, her father caught her practicing her magic and snapped. The beating that followed forced out of her the name of her benefactor. Her father acted with immediate venom, accusing Mr. Kline of carrying on an inappropriate relationship with a minor, which in her beaten state, she verified. The look of sadness on Mr. Klines face haunted her dreams to this day. He burst into the room with a kick of his work boot, shattering the jamb and frame. He roared into the room, upending her dresser and bed. Where are you, you little worthless piece of trash? He was a large, powerfully physical man. His eyes were bloodshot and black. He turned to the closet door, her normal hiding place when he was in a rage. He clawed at the knob and tore the door open. He reached in behind the three or so pieces of worn clothing neatly hanging in the closet and closed his hand around her arm, and pulled her out of the closet. Completing the motion, he threw her across the room. She landed with a thud next to her dresser. Surprisingly, her wand was firmly fixed in her hand. He rumbled, slurring his words. Whered you hide my whiskey? Ill knock it out of you, you tramp.

Something inside her snapped. She buoyed by one of the lessons Mr. Kline had taught her. Hed told her that once she turned seventeen, shed be an adult in the eyes of the wizarding world. The charms that prevented her from using magic while underage would be lifted. She held her wand out in front of her. Dont touch me. Dont ever touch me again! Her voice started small, but grew stronger with each passing word. Her father hesitated slightly then let loose a sneering, condescending laugh. Whatre you going to do, poppet? You think you can scare me with that little twig? You nothing like your mother. Put that down before I give you a beating thatll make the others look like love taps. He took a step forward and she raised the wand higher. Dont make me do it! There was a quiver in her voice. Mr. Kline had told her all about the Unforgiveables. Theyd frightened her, of course, but she knew the spell. They were something shed never practiced, however. Im going to kill you, poppet. Youve far outlived your usefulness. His voice was steady, and strangely serious, not a hint of drunken inanity. He stepped forward once more and raised his hand to strike her face with a mighty blow. Her eyes widened and she grit her teeth. Avada kedavra! Her voice was a whisper, but the wand in her hand shook and she saw a dark green light shoot from the wand and strike her father. He fell to the ground in a heap, a look of utter surprise on his face. She stood still, fascinated at how easy it had been. Mr. Kline had said she had talent, whatever that meant. She shook herself from her stupor and grabbed a backpack. She put everything she owned into the bag and grabbed whatever money she could find. Then, she stepped out the front door and headed off into the world. She didnt look back. The cold reality was that she was finally free. Kill ing her father had been easy. She was an excellent witch, she decided. No one was better than her and one day, shed prove it, to everyone. She allowed herself a small chuckle and walked off into the distance. ***Present Day*** Stanley, what in Merlins name is going on? Harrys voice had an edge of irritation. He and the Aurora had just returned to England and now he was facing the floo head of his friend, Stanley Greenberg. His team leaders were seated around the table, as were Muireall Innes, Hermione, Angel and Spike. Stanleys head shook. Im sorry Harry, we thought we could contain it. Pandoras Box, you mean? Harry prompted. We didnt even know you had it! Frankly, neither did we, Harry. Stanley sighed heavily. Look, we need to talk, but this isnt the way. The floo network has ears, you know that. I do, Stanley. Harry conceded. Hang on. Harry turned and faced the group. Well? There are a lot of questions, Harry. Hermione responded. Were picking up incide nts of violence all over the country. Whatever has been done is impacting us on a large scale. She chewed on the end of her quill. Youve got to go, but I think well keep the majority of the teams here. Weve got to hold the line. She turned to Stanleys figure. How do we keep things under control?

Stanley sighed. Well, if the affected person is predisposed to be evil, than theres not much you can do but incarcerate them. Those that arent, well whatever you do, try not to hurt them. They re not under any control. Ron leaned into Seans ear. I guess wed better keep the Slytherins away from any shards. He clammed up as Harry offered him a sharp look. After a moment, Harry spoke up. Ill take a small team with me. He looked around. Sean, Silas and Karen will go with me. He turned to Eric. That will leave you with enough, including the reserves to hold the fort here. Were going with you. Angel spoke up and shrugged when Harry looked at him. Were going back that way anyway and we have a G5. Harry nodded. Well go too! Charlie spoke up and glanced at Billie. Charlie smiled. Billie has always wanted to fly in a G5. Ron snorted. You two fly DRAGONS for a living. This will be boring. He stopped short when Hermione stepped on his foot. Harry smiled and looked back at Stanley. Well leave here shortly. Expect us in Washington in about six hours. Stanley cleared his throat. Will do, Harry. See you then. ***Thirteen Years Ago*** The Leaky Cauldron had a buzz about it as special issues of the Daily Prophet were liberally distributed with the spirits. When Lydia walked in, she was almost overcome by the sheer ebullience of the crowd. It was rather sickening to her. Just wait until the Dark Lord took over completely. He would wipe this absurd happiness from their lives. She strode up to the bar and ordered a pint. Once it was delivered, she leaned her back against the bar and looked around. A woman with dark hair and black eyes was jostled into Lydias side. Unlike the rest of the patrons, the woman didnt seem as caught up in the euphoria of the moment. She mumbled a quick apology and Lydia watched her closely. The woman noticed the scrutiny and shrugged her shoulders. Can I help you miss? The woman said, somewhat crossly. You dont seem as happy as everyone else. Youre not excited about whatever news they are? Lydia spoke with a bit of chip on her shoulder. You dont know whats happened? The woman seemed genuinely surpri sed. Lydia shook her head. No, not really, did England win the World Cup or something? This time her companions face was filled with genuine surprise. You really dont know? Lydia shook her head impatiently. Her companion gasped in wonder. The Dark Lord is dead. Harry Potter killed him at Hogwarts. The war is over. Lydia pursed her lips. Shed followed the Dark Lords career from afar. His worldview had been remarkably similar to her own, aside from the whole blood purity rubbish, of course. She thought that Voldemort was strong enough to defeat anyone, that his power base was too hard to overcome. Shed

been wrong, but it had to be a question of execution. Shed seen the visceral power that evil held over the meek. It was the one lesson her father had taught her. She looked at the woman in front of her. You dont seem too excited about the Dark Lords downfall? Lydia asked quietly. The girl felt her cheeks burn, but she held her gaze. Not really, although it has nothing to do with Lord Voldemort. She replied with a slight pause. Its just that the people who led the fight, the people who will get all the glory, they were my friends and now Ive been left out of everything. You didnt stay with them for the battle? It wasnt really an accusation. They didnt want me. They didnt trust me, even though, in many ways, Im just like them, or better. The girls lower lip protruded slightly, her petulance coming out. Lydia nodded. This girl was a kindred soul. Well, my belief is that no one should be better than you if you work hard enough. Lydia cast the girl a smile. You look like a hardworking sort. Thanks for that. The girl flushed even brighter. I am smart and I am brave, far more than they gave me credit for, yet here I am, anonymous and they are all going to be famous. Patience, my dear. All good things come to those who wait. Lydia held out her pale, thin hand. My name is Lydia Simms. The girl rose from her stool and grasped Lydias hand in a firm grip. Vane. My name is Romilda Vane. ***Present Day*** Romilda walked up to the front stoop of the house and knocked on the door. A muffled voice echoed from inside followed by the telltale sound of heavy footsteps coming to the door. After a brief interlude of clicks and snaps, the door opened. Its me, Mr. Pravus. I hope Im not too late? Pravus grunted and then broke into a tired grin. Heaven forbid, woman. Im just happy that theres a nanny around that Michelle can get along with. Pravus had searched high and low for someone to watch Michelle when he was at work. Coincidentally, he was able to find Romilda, a witch, no less. Michelle seemed like Romilda and behaved while Pravus was gone. Im going to head out now, dear. Call if you need anything. He hurriedly grabbed his coat and lunch pail and sidled out the door. Romilda watched him leave and then locked the door behind her. She walked up the stairs and stopped at Michelles door. Hello, Michelle. The girl was seated in the middle of her room, carefully brushing the hair of her doll. She looked up absently and saw Romilda. A look of bewildered confusion crossed her face. Her eyes widened and her lips trembled, as if she were about to cry. I dont want to be bad, Romilda. Her voice was weak and Romilda shushed her with a quiet whisper. Romilda walked into the room and picked up Michelles doll. She opened a seam on the back of the doll and removed a tiny sliver of wood. Carefully, Romilda reached into her purse and pulled out another

piece of wood, almost identical to the one she removed from the doll, except for the simple fact that it was glowing a bright red. Romilda placed the new piece of wood in the back of the doll and handed the to y back to Michelle. Im sorry, dear, what did you say? Michelle grasped the dolls hand tightly. I said I dont want to be bad. She paused for a moment. I want to be the best there is. Quietly, Michelle sat down and returned to brushing her d olls hair. Nearby, Romilda Vane smiled and nodded her head. Thats my girl. Chapter 297 Welcome to America The Metro crisscrossed Americas national capital in an intertwining web of tunnels that allowed bureaucrats and tourists to go from one corner of the city to another. The original lines were built upon the aqueducts that the original city planners had built into the city. It was as if the forward thinking architects had known that a mass transit system would be built sometime in the future. The subway system was in a constant state of upgrade and change. New passages were being built and older ones roped off, leaving behind stations in a perpetual state of existence, like a time capsule. Within the old Lafayette Square station, the platform was quiet and musty. A lone figure stood by a pillar, casually reading through a newspaper. He was dressed in a pair of black slacks and dark black, polished work boots. He had a black, long sleeved t-shirt and a black vest over the top. Hanging from his hip was a nickel and black colored cylinder. Any passerby could have mistaken him for a commuter, waiting for a train, yet a train hadnt stopped at this station in more than three decades. Nonetheless, the man seemed at ease as he dove into the comics section of the newspaper. His solitude was suddenly interrupted by a fierce bang followed by a flash of greenish smoke and flame. The man sighed and carefully folded the newspaper and tucked it under his arm. He didnt seem the least bit surprised at the appearance of six figures in robes standing in front of him. One stepped forward, his unruly black hair tinted with hints of white and his glasses doing nothing to hide the dark green eyes in his head. Welcome to Washington, Harry. Stan Greenberg stepped forward and extended an arm. Its been a long time. Hello Stan, it looks like youve made a career change. When Harry had last seen Stan, the American had been the headmaster of the American equivalent of Hogwarts. The school had patterned itself, in a fashion, around a distinctly American mythology encapsulated in the Star Wars movies. Consequently, the students were paired as masters and padiwans and wore clothing unique to that universe. Stan had set up the school and had played a key role in drawing the Americans into the war with the International Confederation of Wizards on the side of the British counterparts. Yes, well, were still ramping things up over here. It seemed a counterpart to your own Office of Aurors was needed. Unlike the United Kingdom or Europe, which had thousands of years of wizarding history to draw from, the wizarding community in the United States was relatively small. In the past, there had been no formal governing entity for the magical population. As the number of wizards and witches grew, so did the need for a government and associated services. The war had served to accelerate that process. Stan saw Charlie grumbling and smiled. Something the matter, Charlie? I thought you came by G5?

Charlie nodded tersely. We did, but no one said anything about apparating into a place that was a hole in the ground. Billie giggled. Hes just mad because they had liquor on the plane and he figured wed be staying on the plane the entire way. What happened? Stan asked. Harry spoke up. Angel and Spike went on to Los Angeles to check on some things with Wolfram and Hart. Wolfram and Hart was the law firm that Angel ran on behest of the so -called powers-that-be. Im sure well see more of them. Sean Manchester snorted. All the same, Ive had my fill of vampires for now. Stan nodded knowingly. I dont blame you, all those bats around can be a real nightmare. Stan turned towards Harry. I suppose we should get going? Harry nodded and Stan led the small group up a row of stairs and away from the platform. *** For all appearances, Romilda was a very good nanny for Michelle. Today, with the sun peaking through the clouds, she took the little girl out to one of the local parks. Mi chelle held Romildas hand lightly, while maintaining an iron grip on her doll. They made their way to the park and Michelle cavorted off to play amid a crowd of children huddled around the merry-go-round. Romilda took a seat on an empty bench and crossed her legs. She pulled out a book from her handbag and began to read. After a few moments, she felt rather than saw a figure sit on the other end of the bench. She pretended to not notice the newcomer, but recognized the voice immediately. Were you ab le to replace the splinter? Romilda sighed and closed her book. She turned and faced Lydia Simms. Yes, of course, although this last one didnt hold as long as before. The splinters are losing their power. When can we open the box proper? Lydia shrugged her shoulders. Without the gifts, we cant be sure that well be successful. That blasted American Auror didnt tell me where hed hidden them. Are you sure the gifts are necessary? Theyd been hidden in Charlemagnes treasure cache for centu ries. Surely, they cant be that powerful? Romilda asked. Lydia sat and contemplated her companions words. Part of me is inclined to agree with you, but everything Ive been able to determine is that the gifts are the only things that can contain th e box. You see what its effects are on the pieces of crate that held it. The gifts are out there to be found. Ive set that in motion. Remember, we have someone inside the Aurors to do our bidding. Well let them find the gifts and then well be there to take them when the time comes. So we continue with our plan? Romilda asked. Lydia nodded. In fact, its time to move on to phase two. Michelle is ready for the next step to becoming the next dark lord. Are you sure? Shes five years old, Lydia. Romilda responded.

I know, but shes the perfect age for the trauma to shape her being. Lydia stared at the little girl who was playing by herself in the center of the playground. Voldemort was, in part, a product of his circumstances. Its time for Michelle to have her environment shaped for her. Romilda Vane nodded grimly. Youre right, I suppose. Her eyes squinted and she sighed quietly. Mr. Pravus will be dead within twenty four hours and Michelle will see it happen. *** Union Station in Washington was abuzz with activity. Harry marveled at the frenetic pace of life bustling around the massive historic train station. It was all the visitors from London could do to maintain pace with Stanley through the crowd. Stan moved with a purpose, winding his way through tourist groups and government employees until he came to a large chain book store. He walked inside and made his way to the back of the store, near the Occult section and paused near a small door labeled Maintenance . He tapped on the door three times and it swung open. He pointed inside and ushered his guests through. The door led through a small corridor which opened into a large entry way. It was an atrium, very similar to the Ministry of Magic back home. There were people of all types and a variety of magical creatures milling about, heading to various destinations. The ceiling rose impossibly high in the sky. The walls of the cavernous room were a bright alabaster, almost luminescent on their own. Stanley held his arms out. Welcome to the Department of Fantasy and Magic, a wholly secret cabinet department of the government of the United States. He said proudly. Really? Its officially part of the US government? Karen asked incredulously. How do they hide all this? The cost must be astronomical. Sean snickered. You dont think they really spend $500 for a hammer, do you? Karen smiled in acknowledgment. This way, please. Stanley led them into the crowd and over towards a series of large , silver disks arrayed in the center of the floor. The disks were flat on the ground and were large enough for the seven of them to easily stand on. Stanley smiled. Were not much on elevators here. Once they were standing on the disk, Stanley drew his wand and tapped a series of stones that were imbedded on the disk surface. In an instant, the room disappeared in a haze of white light and they found themselves standing on the disk, but in a different place. They were in a corridor, that looked like any office building. Stanley smiled. Welcome to the Federal Bureau of Aurors. Are we still in Washington? asked Silas. No. The transport network allows us to distribute the functional offices of the Department to different areas. We happen to be in New York City, actually right underneath the Statue of Liberty, if you need to know. The other offices are all over the country. Our equivalent of your Department of Mysteries, is in Area 51, in New Mexico. Stan responded. Well need to talk to you about that. Harry said solemnly. I know. Stan acknowledged.

They made their way up through a series of stair cases until Stan led them into a circular conference room. Harrys eyes widened as noticed the view outside. They were literally w ithin the crown of the Stature of Liberty and the New York skyline was brilliantly arrayed before them. Stanley took a seat and waited for the others to follow. Harry, please tell Mortimer thanks for bringing my mans remains back to us. He was married and it will help. Stanley started somberly. What was he doing there, Stanley? Why was there a piece of crate with US government markings on it and why are pieces of this crate being found all over my country, with less than helpful results? Harry blurted out. Stanley nodded slowly. I know you have a lot of questions, and I have some answers, but not near what you think I have. Stanley hesitated. The crate was stolen from our repository at Area 51. What was in the crate is pretty easy. It was Pandoras box. You had Pandoras box in storage? Sean blurted out. Well yes, we have a lot of things in storage. Heck, we even have the Ark of the Covenant in there. Weve been collecting and categorizing fantastic objects for as long as this country has been around. Heck, even before. Were based on the Freemasons, after all. Stanley saw looks of understanding crossing their faces. The founding fathers had been rumored to be members of the Freemasons, the most secretive and most powerful independent order of wizards in the history of mankind. The legends tell of vast troves of priceless treasure and artifacts in their possession that made the Templars treasure look like a piggy bank. If the foundation of the Americans Area 51 collection was the Freemasons treasure, than the possession of Pandoras box was not out of the realm of possibility. So, youre saying someone stole the box? Harry asked. Yes, thats what Im saying. Who? Were not sure, but they havent opened it, Im sure of that. Stan responded. Whys that? Harry asked. Because the box is the foundation of evil, all of mans sins are contained within. If the box is opened, then a flood of evil would overwhelm the world. Wed be very busy right about now. Karens mind went back to her encounter with the Cannons fans and shuddered at that level of hatred on a global basis. Why did you send an Auror to Charlemagnes treasure? Silas asked. Well, there is only one thing that contain the evils in the box. Stanley said. Whats that? Well its a series of gifts, the gifts of the magi. We thought Charlemagne had them, but we were wrong. Stanley responded.

Charlie cleared his throat. The gifts of the Magi? You mean frankincense, gold and myrrh? Stanley nodded. Merlins beard! Thats rich. So where is the Discooperire and her crew? Stanley shrugged his shoulders. Im not sure. If they were looking for the gifts, then maybe wed find them as we look for the gifts. Karen nodded. Well, where are the gifts? If theyre not where you thought they were, then where do we start looking? I dont know. I dont even know where to start. Stanley conceded. Harry had been silently thinking and reached a hand into his pocket. He fumbled with an object inside and then came upright. I know where to start. Harry said quietly. The people in the room looked at him expectantly. Harry pulled his hand of his pocket and tossed a bright, slightly worn coin on the table. It was the Phoenician gold piece. After few hours of study, where Stanley brought experts from all across the country in to examine the coin, they reconvened in the conference room. Stanley had a tired, but satisfied smile on his face. Theres no doubt where the coin points us. The question is whether its the right place. Stanley finally responded. Considering we didnt have a direction to try before, I say we go for it. Charlie said. I agree. Harry responded. Then well be on our way. Stanley shook his head. It looks like were heading on a quest, but it seems a bit fantastic. Youre a wizard and youre amazed by the fantastic? Harry laughed and then his face grew serious. Im with you. Its not everyday you try to find a city of gold, after all. He stood and adjusted his bag. Its not every day you go on a search for El Dorado. Chapter 298 The Road to El Dorado His first thought was that the room was bright, too bright. The walls gleamed with a golden sheen and he closed his eyes to acclimate them to the brightness reflecting off the walls. He was in a cell, of that he was sure. He rose and walked to the door. It was made of rich mahogany with gilded golden hardware and a small portal in the middle. Absently, he pushed and pulled on the door and realized it was locked securely. He turned and looked around the room. It was a small cube, with a wooden framed cot that was not altogether uncomfortable. The walls were smooth and metallic, seemingly plated with pure gold. The seams of the gold plate were lined with precious gems about the size of his thumbnail. There was a window opposite the door. It was tall, almost three feet high, but too narrow for him to slide through, even if the platinum bars werent present. He walked to the window and stared outside. He was high up in what appeared to be a castle. The outer walls were very much like the walls of his cell, with a bright and smooth golden sheen. The castle overlooked a modest city, with buildings made of gold, silver and bronze arrayed in a circle. They seemed to be located atop a high mesa. The sky was a bright azure, with no clouds. A river seemed to wind its way below the walls of the mesa. As he looked down into the city, he was struck by a noticeable lack of pedestrian traffic in the streets. The city seemed deserted, yet someone had locked him in this cell. He tapped on the bars of the window. The sound echoed out across the landscape.

Is someone there? He recognized the womans voice immediately. It seemed to be coming from a window of the cell right next to his. He felt a sense of relief, both from realizing that he wasnt alone and he hadnt failed entirely in his duty. Its me, Captain. He could almost hear her sigh at the sound of his voice. He could picture her self-assured smile and her voice reflected his thoughts. Michael? Good, I wonder if the rest of the crew is around? Captain Adelina Barettos voice wasnt fearful, but more contemplative. The former Templar, Michael, felt calm. Im sure they are, Captain. Theyre probably locked up like us. Michael took one more cursory look around the cell. The real question is who is holding us and how did we get here? He heard her snort. I agree. One moment, were on course for Italy, with Elba in our sights and the next moment, were here, where ever here is. I guess well find out soon enough. Michael sighed and then sat down on his cot. He looked up at the jewel encrusted walls of his jail and sighed. A gilded cage was still just a cage and he began to work out how he would fly his coop. *** Richard Pravus was tired. A twelve hour shift on the factory floor usually did that to him. He strolled wearily down the street, amid the packed together buildings of his town. His arm hung low, his lunch pail dragging along his leg. He worked an overnight shift, so the sun was starting to rise as he made his way home. He had an exhausted smile on his face, given how easy it had turned out to be to find a nanny for Michelle. He loved his daughter, to be sure. She was the living embodiment of his departed wife, but Michelles actions lately scared him to the bone. Although not a wizard himself, hed lived in fear with his wife when the Dark Lord had taken power. It was, indeed, a great thing that hed found a witch to help. Romilda was someone whod survived the Dark Lords reign and knew about his anxiety. It seemed Michelle was calmer when Romilda was around. Although dawn was fast approaching, there were still long areas of shadow along his route home. He did not see the figure of Romilda Vane waiting in one of those blankets of darkness. Her eyes were slits as she waited for him to approach. Lydia had been very specific. Part of Michelles transformation would have to include the death of her father, making the young girl an orphan. Once Michelles psyche had been transformed into something darker, then the box could be opened with its full measure. It wasnt enough for an adult with evil intent to open the box. Of course, the collection of sins contained within the box would be released, but if it were opened by the desperate hands of a potentially evil child, then the power of the sins that would be release would be increased by a thousand times. It would weaken the defenses of the world enough for Lydia (and her followers) to seize permanent power. It all begins with this one little girl. It had been Romilda that had found Michelle, through the obituary in the Daily Prophet for her mother. A muggle father would be easy enough to manipulate. The shards of the crate that once housed the box were enough to focus the negative energies around the girl. The splinters did not make a person evil, per se, but focused a lot of the pent up desperation and fear that a person had. It was easy enough to manipulate the Cannons fans, because their team was known for being perennial losers which engendered an inferiority complex in the fans. The splinters simply magnified that insecurity and manifested it into fury and hate. It was different for Michelle, because her age made her very unaware of the feelings of loss and pain engendered by the loss of her mother.

However, her father was a completely different matter. Richard Pravus sense of guilt, sorrow and resentment pervaded the house. The splinter in Michelles doll collected those feelings and used the relatively empty vessel that was a five year old girl and channeled through her, a feeling of sharpness. What also helped was that the guilt Richard felt was demonstrated in his absolute devotion to his daughter which explained why she felt completely superior to others when under the spell of the splinter. There were limitations to the powers that Romilda and Lydia were using. As Michelles own nature began to take hold, the splinter lost the ability to use her as a channel. The time between when Romilda had to change out the splinter for a fresh one was becoming shorter and shorter. What was needed were raw emotions of loss in the girl herself, which could be magnified and grown and cultivated into action enough to want to open the box. As she watched Richard Pravus on his journey home, she smiled. Personally, she felt nothing over his impending demise. In fact, she was quite curious as to the result. An Avada kedavra curse would not work here. The Aurors would immediately suspect foul play and sweep the girl up. Romilda had been taken by surprise when Richard had actually taken it upon himself to go the Ministry and act for help, hardly the actions of a broken man. Things were made worse when she found out that the fool, Ron Weasley, had taken the case. Weasley had been a man whod gotten where he was through luck and patronage, she was sure. Of course, she was better magically than Ron, and she was grateful that a more accomplished Auror had not been assigned, like Harry Potter. She felt her heart flutter for a moment. She was not convinced in the least she was in love with Potter. What she craved was power, especially those with power. When Harry had been so vindicated in his assertions at Hogwarts that the Dark Lord had, indeed, returned, it made her want to be next to him. Her attempts with love potions were clumsy, to be sure, but she was a Gryffindor after all, she needed to be bold. She smiled to herself. She was bold and smart, and she would show the world right now. Richard made his way past a tall, older building. There was a construction derrick perched high atop the building. Carefully, Romilda aimed a wand at the joists supporting the main crane body. In an instant, the thick bolts holding the crane on its perch shattered and the twenty ton frame started falling down towards the unsuspecting man below. Romilda smiled and watched as Richard looked up and froze in place as the instrument of his destruction barreled down on him. *** Harry stooped down and entered the ancient pueblo carved into the side of canyon. He felt a sense of relief as he wandered in from the oppressive heat of the Arizona sun. Inside, a thin, old man with dark leathery skin sat cross legged in front of a fire pit. The mans hair was white from age, but his eyes sparkled with humor as Harry entered and sat down across from him. The old man wore loose cotton trousers and a t-shirt with the logo of an eightys hair band on its front. He waited until Stanley joined Harry at the fire pit. Stanley bowed his head at the old man and looked at Harry. Harry, this is Frank Sinatra, high shaman of the Hopi tribe. Stanley was able to keep a straight face at the introduction. Harry, however, allowed an expression of surprise come over his face. The old man kept his own visage stoic and hummed a low growl from this larynx. Then, he reached into a pouch affixed to his belt and drew some white powder out and threw it on the flame. The fire pit exploded in a blinding flash of light and sound. The old man shouted unintelligibly and then glared at Harry. Harrys hand flexed, ready to draw his wand and then he hesitated. He noticed an amused twinkle in the shamans eyes. Then the old Hopi broke into a gap toothed grin and laughed.

Im sorry, Im just messing with you. The tourists seem to like the hocus pocus stuff. It makes them buy more blankets and beads. Barry rose and walked over to a nearby refrigerator and pulled out three soft drinks, handing them out to his guests. Harry accepted the bottle gratefully and grinned. Is your name really Frank Sinatra? The old man gave a bothered look at Harry. Yes it is and Im much older than that elevator music m an. He was just starting his career and came across my name in a guest register at a hotel in Las Vegas. He shook his head. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, my backside. Barry joined them on the floor and stared at Harry intently. You definit ely have an aura about you. I can see it. You have powerful magic, with an edge, I see. Harry felt discomfited under his gaze and Stanley cleared his throat. We need some help, Frank. Stanley gave a brief outline of their dilemma and then turned to Harry. Frank here was a great help in the forties when they originally found the box. He was a hunter for the Freemasons and he worked with them to secure the box. The Freemasons served as a precursor to the Department of Magic in the United States. Its members really didnt have a structured mandate, but in lieu of any type of magical authority in the country, they assumed the role. A hunter within its ranks acted very much like an Auror. A lot of good that did me, considering you lost the damn thing. Franks voice lacked any real edge. Its worse, Frank. No one can seem to find the gifts. I sent David to collect them at Charlemagnes cache, but he ran into trouble, but apparently whoever he ran into did not find the gifts. Stanley said soberly. Franks eyes dropped. Too bad about David, he was a good man. I see your problem. We havent needed the gifts in so long, we assumed that Charlemagne had them. I guess we were wrong. Stanley nodded and then turned over one of the Phoenicia n coins. We figure Jezebel was the last person who we confirmed had the gifts, so we started over. The coin seems to point towards El Dorado. Frank smiled sadly. Of course, it wouldnt be easy, would it? Whats the problem? Harry asked. Stanley looked at Frank with a question in his eyes. The older man smiled. Its just that there is no easy way to get into El Dorado. Lets face it, many have tried and failed. You mean no one knows where it is? Harry asked dejectedly. Frank shook his head. Oh no, I know where it is. Its getting there thats the problem. Whys that? This time Franks voice grew low and face was serious. To get there, you have to pass through the middle of the high desert and overcome three impossible tasks, j ust to get to face the guardians. The guardians? Who are they? Harry asked. I dont know. No one has ever survived the first task. Frank stood and walked over to a battered foot locker near the wall. He reached in and drew out a dented breastplate that seemed to date back to the

days of the Conquistadors. He donned the armor and smiled. Sounds like fun, of course Ill go with you. He smiled broadly and drained his soda. *** The location was perfect, thought Romilda. She glanced up at the Pravus house. Michelles window faced the street and the little girl was staring out. Romilda had slowly conditioned Michelle to wait for her father to return home by watching out the window. This made conditions perfect for Michelle to witness her fathers demise. Romilda looked over towards Richard, rooted in place as the crane bore down on him. Romilda felt a sense of anticipation, waiting for the conclusion of the events she set in motion. She fixated on Richard and saw the fear in his eyes. She waited to see him crushed. Unfortunately, she saw instead two rapid flashes of green fire and smoke. One second, Richard was there, and the next instant, he was gone, just before the crane landed in a thump and crash on the street. She heard another bang and saw flash of light in a park across from the crane. She moved closer and hid behind a shrub. Richard was standing next to Ron Weasley! The Auror had clearly apparated her intended victim out of harms way. Weasley was supporting the shaken ma n and was soon joined by three more aurors. Romilda stooped lower. You all right, Mr. Pravus? Ron asked. Thanks to you. The man seemed to be recovering his wits from the close call. Carter Sigismund approached Ron. This was no accident, Ron. Ron gave his friend an inquisitive look. Carter held out one of the toggle bolts that held the crane together. It looked solid enough, but as Carter moved his hands, it dissolved into powder. Ron stared at the bolts remains intensely. Alchemy? That takes magic. Ron said crossly. Carter nodded. If we hadnt been here, no one would have any idea anything had happened when the evidence dissolved. Youre right. Are there any wizards that live around here? Ron asked. Carter shook his head. Theres none in the registry. This is supposed to generally a muggle area. Richard froze. You know, my daughters nanny is a witch, but I cant see her doing something like this. Shes been with me for almost two years. Not to put too fine a point on this, Mr. Pravus, but when did your daughter begin to show the signs that brought you to us? Ron asked seriously. About eighteen months ago. His eyes grew wide and he stared at his home nearby. Oh my God, it cant be. Ron nodded to the Aurors who dispersed, heading out in a capture formation towards the house. Ron stood beside Pravus, his wand drawn. He took a glance around and then turned to Richard. Whats your nannys name?

Richard too a deep breath and shrugged. Vane, her name is Romilda Vane. Ron drew a sharp breath and then nodded. After a few moments, the Aurors returned, one of them carrying little Michelle Pravus in his arms. He handed the girl to her father. Carter approached Ron. Whoever it was, theres no sign of her. He said. I know who she is. Ron said sternly. He turned to Richard. Mr. Pravus, I suggest we bring you and your daughter to the Ministry, until we can find the person trying to kill you. Pravus nodded and the Aurors formed a circle around father and daughter and apparated away. From her hiding place, Romilda shook from anxiety and frustration. Not only had she missed killing Pravus, now the Aurors knew about her. Lydia would not be pleased, not pleased at all. She sighed and apparated away. Chapter 299 Theres Always Someone Else... I want Romilda Vane picked up. Eric Williamson gazed around the Office, locking gazes with each of the Aurors present. That is our number one priority. What I dont understand is how she got mixed up in all this. Ron paced the room and shared a glance with Hermione. Its really not important, is it? Williamsons retort was more cross than hed wanted. He, like many in the room, were alumni of Gryffindor and had held a long standing belief i n the certitude of that Houses preeminence among heroes. Many Gryffindors found themselves shocked when the frailties of their beliefs were exposed. Well, she isnt smart enough to have come up with this all on her own. Theres got to be someone else guiding her. Hermione studied gaze was leveled at Ron, her memory harkening back to when Vane tried to sneak a love potion to Harry. Ron snorted. Theres always someone else, isnt there? *** When he was a monk, attending a monastery in the remote Alpine regions of eastern France, Michael had spent countless hours in a secluded cell, meditating on God. In this gilded cage, he didnt feel the passage of time and barely noticed anything until a rattle at his door awoke him from his concentration. The golden door swung open and he rose to his feet. There was a tall, broad-shouldered man wearing a golden cuirass and a plumed helm. What struck Michael was the man was the spitting image of a Roman legionnaire. He man waved his hand, indicating that Michael should come out of his cell. When Michael walked into the passageway, he saw another soldier escorting Captain Baretto from her cell and leading them down the gilded hallway. In a few steps, Michael was walking next to Adelina, who shared an inquisitive eye about their captors. Neither of the guards spoke, and Michael figured that it wouldnt take any amount of effort to overpower them, but a quick glance from the Captain held him in his place. There would be a time and a place for them to act, and now was not that time. Michael focused on his surroundings. Much like his cell, the walls glittered in a smooth golden sheen. Surprisingly, his feet crunched on what seemed like gravel at his feet, but intermixed with the pebbles were obviously precious gems.

They walked down the passageway and down a large spiral staircase. At the bottom of the stairwell, they were led into an elaborate courtyard, which was lined with impossibly beautiful bushes and shrubs. At the end of the courtyard was an open air tent, flowing in an invisible breeze. There were three chaise lounges arrayed inside the tent, and a phalanx of stoic legionnaires keeping watch outside. Michael took a deep breath and followed his escort to the tent. There were three figures reclining on the chairs. Two were men, one was older, wearing a toga lined with a red stripe, very similar, Michael noted, to the attire worn by Roman Senators during the empire. The other man wore a bronze cuirass like the other legionnaires, except his was coated in bright gold and molded with the figures of two lions fighting each other on his chest. His helm had been removed. The man handsome, and he knew it. He had bright blue eyes and a shock of dark, jet black hair. He was feeding himself grapes from a nearby bowl. In the lounge between the two men was a beautiful woman. She wore a loose-fitting sheer white dress, its edges fluttering in the breeze. She had chestnut hair with large ringlets, worn short, just barely coming to her shoulders. Her nose was angular, but not too sharp and she had prominent dimples in her cheeks, when she smiled, as she was doing now. Despite his years of training and his service on a ship mostly composed of women, Michael was taken aback by the womans appeara nce. He was especially enthralled by her eyes. They were a light violet in color and seemed to take everything in all at once. The older man looked up and waved an indifferent hand at the guards, who bowed, stiffly at the waist and left their captives sides. Michael straightened as Captain Baretto threw her shoulders back and took a step forward. What is the meaning of all this? Where are my crew and my ship? I swear if any of my people have been harmed, I will stop at nothing to make you pay for it. There was a quiet air of menace in Barettos tone and ever so slightly, Michael tensed his legs, ready to back any play that his captain made. The man chuckled and shook his head in mock surrender. Captain, captain, both your crew and your ship are quite safe. Baretto tensed a bit and stared down the man. How do I know this is true? You have my word on it, Captain. The man said, with a bit more seriousness. His words didnt quite satisfy the captain. And who might you be? The man glanced over at his companions. The woman gave a slight nod of her head while the warrior shrugged his shoulders as much as his armor would let him. The older sighed and faced Michael and Adelina. My manners are quite boorish, Im afraid. He rose and smiled. My name is Julius Caesar, once proconsul and emperor of Rome. He extended his hand to the other two, whod remained seated. These are my co-consuls, General Marcus Antony and his consort, Queen Cleopatra of Egypt. He turned and smiled. We are the caretakers of this place. We are the ruling council of El Dorado. *** Merlins beard, its HOT! Charlie quickly removed the light leather duster hed been wearing and shoved inside his shoulder bag. Billie glanced down at her feet and watched the loose sand cascading around her feet. Its the desert, Charlie.

Yeah, but does the desert have to be so hot? Charlie took a swig of water from his canteen. Frank Sinatra had apparated the eight of them into an open desert, at the top of a large, swirling sand dune. The Aurors plus Charlie and Billie had been warned to wear loose fitting clothing that still covered the skin. Harry, at once, was thankful hed taken Franks advice. He wore a loose fitting oxford shirt made of white linen and cotton, khaki trousers with a pair of desert boots. Karen, Silas and Sean were similarly attired, if not in different colors. Billie Tunstall had elected to cut the cuffs of her trousers, making them shorts, and substantially shorter than Charlie would have liked. Stanley Greenberg giggled to himself. What is it? Sean grumbled. You guys look like a GAP commercial. Stan burst into laughter. Ha, funny man, you arent the hallmark of fashion yourself. Stanley stopped abruptly and pulle d down the bottom of the heavy metal concert tee shirt he was wearing over his jeans shorts. His ensemble was capped by a pair of Birkenstocks fitted nicely over his dress socks. Im comfortable. Stanley sniffed. He looked around and changed the subject. So where are we? Frank stood at the top of the nearest dune. He still wore his battered chest plate and conquistadors helmet over his tee shirt and jeans. He was peering across the dunes using an antique collapsing telescope. He snapped the scope together and tossed it in his beaded pouch. Death Valley. Its the hottest place in America. Oh joy. Charlie mumbled. Silas snickered. Its a dry heat. So are ovens, you git. Sean retorted. Harry held up his hand. Why are we her e, Frank? Where do these tests start? Frank smiled and pointed across the dunes to a wide open plane that blazed white in the desert. Ripples of light emanated from the surface of the salt riverbed. Badwater, the lowest place in elevation in the United States, we have to go to the center of the lake, the test is there. Harry nodded and waved to his team. Wed better get going. Harry glanced at his watch. Its only nine AM. He heard Charlie groan and couldnt disagree with him. They hadnt e ven reached the hottest time of the day. *** Lydia Simms sat at the bar and studied the half touched glass of wine in front of her. Her disappointment in Romildas failure was still at the front of her mind, but shed allowed her sense of duty overtake that anger. The question was, what to do now? When shed planned this, shed often been guided by a tiny voice of intuition in her head. Up until now, that voice had been pretty accurate, but now, she had no inspiration. Theyd worked on Michelle since before the girl had been born. Theyd arranged for her mother to die in childbirth, theyd played on the insecurities of the father, only to have circumstances take the girl out of her reach. Or was she? Lydias brow furrowed and ever so slightly, she heard her intuition begin to make its presence felt. Perhaps she had been too clever? Perhaps what was needed was something large, something bold, something that would provide an undeniable psychic break within the girl. She nodded and smiled as

Romilda approached her place at the bar. They had an in at the Ministry, another disaffected soul who shed cultivated for years. What was needed was something splashy and devastating at the same time. She thought, listening to the tiny whisper of inspiration and then it hit her. One word that would not only see the death of Richard Pravus, but would through the Ministry and its Aurors into complete disarray. Dementers. *** Watch your step, in some places, its just a thin layer of salt and then bog. Frank warned. Stay in my footsteps. The dry lake bed was assaulted by the mid-day sun. Harry felt the sweat mustering on his brow and carefully tried to follow Franks steps. The ground was cracked into hexagonal shapes, eons of drying and wetting of the underlying layer of soil having broken open the surface of the earth. Theyd already broken through and were lost in several places. Their lower legs were coated with salt and muck, while their heads pounded in the sweltering heat. Is this the test, I wonder? Charlie asked out loud. I mean, navigating through this maze, is it the first test? Frank grunted. If it were that easy, wed have flown. No, this isnt the test, or else someone would have cracked it by now. Harry nodded, knowing their suffering hadnt brought them the test yet. How much further? Instead of answering, Frank pointed to an object about three hundred yards ahead. Not far, right there. They picked up the pace and Harry felt an overwhelming sense of relief as the ground seemed to be getting firmer. Soon, they stepped onto a large stone slab, perfectly round in the center of the dry lake bed. Miraculously, there was a bright green olive tree standing anachronistically in the center of the rock, its roots firmly ensconced in the rock itself. It was completely out of place in this cauldron of heat and dryness. It seemed to be completely flourishing. Now what? Charlie asked. Frank stood mute and kept a steady eye on Harry. For his part, Harry shifted uncomfortably. A slight, barely perceptible wind blew past them. He looked across the horizon and the returned his eyes back to the tree. In the heat, he could swear that the branches had moved, but that wasnt possible, was it? Suddenly, the tree came to life. Two large boughs stretched down and grabbed Harry the shoulders and lifted him in the air. As one, the party drew their wands and was slammed to the ground by a blast of magic. Charlie rolled on the ground and stared incredulously to the side. The blast had come from Frank! The old shaman held out his hands, bright turquoise jewels in either palm. Do not interfere! The first test is leadership! This is a test for Harry alone. Stan shook his head. You could have let us know. No, because the tree decides who the leader is. I do not know Harry, I didnt know who the tree would select. Frank responded kindly. Im sorry, dude.

They looked up at the tree and Harry felt himself being raised up. His body was enveloped in branches. Was he supposed to fight? Was this the test? Two thin, slender branches hovered near his face, and then, without warning, plunged into his temples. He screamed as he felt a flash of fire enter his brain, and then, there was nothing, he lost consciousness.