Chapter 173 Loves Dark Heart The light in the restaurant was dimmed; the obvious intention of the

e proprietors was to engage a sense of romance and mystery that would overcome the obvious high cost and small portions that came with the meal. The tables were reasonably scattered, with none of the place settings big enough to accommodate more than one or two couples per seating. The small, intimate atmosphere allowed the restaurant to promote itself as a haven for lovers present and future while soft, overly sweet music played in the background. In a fit of pique, the woman who owned the place decided to call the small bistro Amor and it soon became a destination of couples from around England. It was a place for first dates, proposals, anniversaries and birthdays. Most of all, and far from the establishments original intent, it had become a place for last dates, a place where men and women brought their dates to end the relationship. Amor, for all intents and purposes, would have been better known as Fin. The woman wore a simple red dress, with plain lines that sleeves the revealed thin, slender shoulders. Her chestnut hair fell about her shoulders in a mad dance of large ringlets that seemed to bounce when she turned her head. She was probably wearing a trifle too much makeup, heavy on the foundation and far too bright with the lipstick, in some vain attempt to match her lip color to her dress, but in the darkness of the main dining room, it didnt seem to stand out too much. Her date was about fifteen minutes late as she glanced at the slender, golden watch on her wrist. She sighed heavily and took another sip of her water, trying to maintain some semblance of composure as a heavy feeling of anxiety began to overcome her. Technically, this would be their fifth date, although shed been following him for quite some time before shed mustered the courage to ask him out. She was a librarian by trade, not altogether unpleasant looking, yet not a woman who drew a second glance when dressed for work, in her thick black plastic spectacles, her hair in a tight bun and her severe gray business suits. Gradually, as she noticed him, she began to loosen up with her appearance, switching to contacts, letting her hair down and developing a looser, more contemporary wardrobe. Her name was Samantha Wilkes and her greatest fear in her lonely life was that shed go through it without having met her ideal match. The prospect would be daunting under any circumstances, but what made the outlook particularly dismal was the fact that she was also a witch, whose lifespan was greater than that of muggles, which meant she would live alone much longer. The edge of emptiness in her chest began to grow larger and she found herself staring at the entrance ever more often. Shed first met him at the library, where hed started coming in on a consistent basis to conduct some research. He was a solicitor for a slightly well known firm that specialized in genealogical claims which required him to peruse some rather obscure texts to identify the birthrights of his clients. Shed taken to helping him in his research and the hours together finally blossomed into a date and then into dating. She was ecstatic. Shed read every magazine article in Cosmo or Elle or Vogue about playing it cool, but she couldnt help herself, it had been such a long time since a man had paid any amount of attention to her. Now, almost three weeks later, hed asked her to this fine romantic restaurant, and he was late. The tinges doubt was overwhelming her senses. Just before shed thought shed die from embarrassment, he walked through the door, and strode purposefully to where she sat. She stood and he embraced her lightly, kissing her gently on her cheek. She blushed a bit, not really noticing how distant his greeting had been from their recent ones. She allowed him to help her to her seat and then he sat across from her. A waiter came up and poured them each a glass of wine from a nearby bottle. Sorry Im late. He smiled, his mouth wide with a row of bright teeth and a sparkle in his eye. She shifted her eyes downward and responded meekly. Thats all right. I wasnt worried a bit, Paul. Im just glad youre here. I missed you, today. She gave him a sly, come hither look, trying to appear alluring.

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and sipped on his wine from the glass in front of him. For the first time since hed walked in, Samantha had a sense of something not being totally right. She was nave and inexperienced, but no one had ever thought her stupid. There was a conflict in her head as to whether she should raise her concerns. Going through life, especially in dealing with the wide array of failed relationships, she generally been a person who ignored the bad, hoping that the issue would go away. But Oprah was adamant. A woman must confront bad things head on, and Samantha was resolved to find out what the problem was. You seem on edge, Paul, is something wrong? The question hung in the air, like a dark pa ll of smoke over the woods, masking the danger of a destructive forest fire. Her man shifted slightly in his seat and unconsciously tugged on his tie. Samantha, youre a wonderful girl. The past few weeks have been splendid. The empty hole in her stomach returned with a flourish. She felt the water and wine shed been drinking slowly began to churn in her belly, and her shoulders slumped slightly, as if a ten ton weight had been dropped on top of her. Her date decided to plod ahead with the speech. Its just that Im not the right man for you. My career is taking off, and I cant give you the level of attention you deserve. Its not you, youre the best a man could hope for, its me. You deserve so much more. There it was. It always happened like this. These men were always doing her a favor by dumping her on her backside. Her eyes darkened and she pretty much drowned out the remainder of his dismissal. Finally, she noticed that hed stopped talking and there was an awkward silence hovering over the table. She sipped her wine and nodded blankly. Let me get this straight. Im wonderful. Youve had a good time and thats why youre dumping me? She leaned back a little in her chair. What is it? Is there someone else, Paul? Did you get a better offer? He couldnt look at her, his eyes fell to the floor as he answered. Of course not, darling. Im simply not ready for a relationship. I see. Samanthas voice was clipped, but the volume rose a bit. It would be unfortunate if you were lying to me Paul. He stared at her incredulously. There was always a danger that the women hed dated wouldnt play the game correctly. Theyd both had their fun, their evenings together had been pretty good, but not the best hed experienced. They were both adults, so why couldnt she just play the game. It wasnt as if he was ever going to marry her. Now, lets not make a scene, Samantha. Weve made no promises to each other. I simply dont think this is going to work out. He wasnt one for displays. Hed picked this location because he felt shed be less inclined to be obvious with her displeasure. It was beginning to look like he was wrong. A scene? Youre worried about a scene, Paul? Subtly, shed reached her hand into h er purse and she felt the reassuring firmness of her wand in her fingers. A scene would be the least of his worries when she turned him into the banana slug that he was. Instead, she took a deep breath and accepted the fact that, again, she was being cast aside by another man who had used her badly. I wont make a scene. Why dont you just go? Her voice fell and he looked at her in mild surprise. This wasnt going to be as bad as he thought.

Really? You sure? We can still have dinner, if you want. He really didnt want to finish dinner. It would be awkward, to be sure, but also expensive to boot. Just go, Paul. Im sorry you feel the way you do, but I dont have much of an appetite right now. She threw her napkin on the empty plate in front of her. He nodded and rose from the table. He offered her a shy smile, and then walked out the door. She sighed heavily and rose to leave. She pulled a thin, off white wrap around her shoulders to guard against the chill of the early evening. She walked towards the cab stand and stood idly. At that time, the skies opened up and the rain began fall heavily on her, causing her hair to matt down on her head, bringing the perfect end to an absolutely horrid evening. Except, her evening wasnt enti rely over. Through the pouring deluge around her, she spied her now ex-boyfriends car parked on the side of the road. Inside, she could make out his silhouette in the drivers seat, alongside that of another figure. The other figure was that of a woman and both heads were together, undeniably kissing. The evening was capped off perfectly. Hed lied about his having another woman, not surprisingly, but hed had the temerity to have her waiting in the car. A silent rage began to build up inside Samantha, an anger that shed been bottling up for years. She wouldnt be played for a fool any longer and she definitely wouldnt be alone forever. Shed do whatever it took to make things right. She was smart, she was determined and most of all, she was a witch. A valet was calling on a cab for her. As one began to pull up to the curb, she surreptitiously drew her wand from her purse and secretly pointed it at her cheating lovers car. Redacto! A bolt of light, hidden in the downpour, reached out and struck the petrol tank of the small sports car, causing it to explode in a ball of fire and metal. She smiled to herself and bent down, entering the taxi that had pulled up. Without looking back at the carnage, she gave the driver her address and sat back as the car pulled away from the curb. *** No, no, no, no. Stop trying to use basic spells! Youve got to think outside the box and work together. Listen, your next training match will be against Harry, Dawlish and Lachlan, and they will eat you all alive! Ron rested his hands on his hips and shook his head at the ragged nature of his team in the training arena. Retirement and the war had caused a wholesale reshuffling of Auror teams. Ron had some additions of both experienced and not so experienced Aurors to his team. Mortimer and Silas were still there, as were Bryan and Betsy, but Harry had transferred Sarah Jordan to Rons team. Sarah had recently returned from maternity leave and was slowly getting back to full strength. Harry had also brought in a newer, Auror-trainee. She was a tall woman, with ebon skin and smooth features. A recent Hogwarts graduate, Melanie Harris had passed her first year M.A.G.E., the Auror examination as a member of Cavendishs team, but now Ron had paired her up with Silas, to help guide her through the rest of her training. Now, the team, with its new members, was trying to build the chemistry required to fight together as a unit. They were failing miserably. Look. Theres no excuse for us being sloppy, people. Mortimer, you and Silas need to quit the joking around and take this seriously. I guarantee that Harry and Dawlish will have your guts for garters within five minutes if you keep executing the way you have been. Ron rolled his eyes and reset the training arena for another exercise. Come on Ron, we know what were doing. Weve battled Harry countless times. We know what hes going to do! Mortimer Gafney shrugged his shoulders confidently while his team leader grumbled under his breath. You think so? Ron smiled impatiently. Im willing to wager five galleons that you two clowns, Ron pointed at Mortimer and Silas, dont last a full ten minutes against Harry. Sarah hid a smile. You say youd bet against your own team?

Youre damn right I would. Especially the way you guys are performing, right now. Youre overconfident, and that will lead to mistakes. I know for a fact that Harry doesnt use the same tactics twice. Hell have something different, and youll lose. Ron was staring right at Mortimer, his brightest and most capable team member, and his most irritating. Ron heard a noise outside the training room door. Right, so get in position, theyre here. Ron walked towards the entrance to the training room. Mortimer gave him a shocked wail. Theyre here? What do you mean, were doing this now? Of course. You said youre ready. Theres no time like the present. Ron chuckled and opened the door. In walked Harry, Lachlan, Dawlish, Captain Baretto, Lockley and Muireall Innes. What are they doing here? You didnt say anything about the Discooperire crew. Silas huffed as he made his way to a position on the obstacle course. You never know what kind of situation youll be in. Heres a word of advice, pe ople. These people, Ron pointed to the newcomers, know the value of working as a team. Youd better figure it out quickly. Now, when I light off my fireworks, the match will begin. Ron stood by the door and looked quickly at Harry. Ron whispered, so only Harry could hear. Dont go lightly with them. They need a good dose of humility. Harry nodded and smiled as he drew his wand. Ron drew a small, metal cylinder from his robe and held it over his head. He pressed a button on the side and a bright display of blue and green fireworks lit off, signaling the beginning of the match. Ron walked out the door and headed for his desk. It would be a short match. *** Five galleons! Rons team straggled to their desks, rubbing various welts and bruis es. Of the six, only Sarah had gotten through the match unscathed, but she was overpowered when the rest of the team was dispatched. Mortimer reached into his belt pouch and placed five galleons on Rons desk. Ron laughed. I thought you knew all of Harrys moves? Ron pocketed the galleons. Ive never seen him use that aggressive of a posture. He came right at us instead of trying to break down our defenses. Mortimer plopped down in his chair. Goes to show, you can never assume you know everything about your opponent. Ron nodded sagely. Before he could ply them with more words of wisdom, Harry stuck his head from his office. Ron, could I see you please? Ron nodded and turned to Sarah. Start going through the after action, see what they can learn. Leaving his team to their work, Ron walked into Harrys office and spied a familiar figure seated in the chair opposite Harrys desk. Charlie! What are you doing here? Rons older brother, resident dragon expert, rose from his seat and embraced Ron in a tight bear hug. Harry spoke up. Charlies brought a problem to us and Id like your team to check it out. Ron backed away from his brother and took a seat. Whats up, Charlie?

Weve had a rash of dragons eggs thefts. All signs point to someone over here. Theyre extremely valuable, Ron, but most of all, their loss could tip the balance of the populations out of tilt. Charlie sat tall in his own seat, his pony tail hanging down across his shoulders. You mean to tell me someone is looking to hatch their own brood of dragons? Ron thought the prospect of a few dozen dragons under someones control was frightening. No, I dont think so. Charlie scratched his head. Theres no advantage to trying to take a dragon when they are newly hatched. You dont know when theyll come out and adult dragons are much more trainable. Then why do they want the eggs? Ron mimicked his brothers gesture, scratching his head. Well, theyre good for potions. The shells of an unborn dragon egg make for potent imperious and love potions and the insides are a powerful venom. Charlie shook his head balefully. Unfortunately, they have to kill the dragon to extract the spell properties. Killing the dragon in the shell takes dark magic. In my mind, whoever is taking these eggs are not nice people. Ron nodded and looked over at Harry. Well, hunting dark wizards is what we do. Ill get my team right on it. Harry nodded back and then held up his hand. Be careful out there, Ron. Mos t of the potions made from dragons eggs have no antidote. The imperious potion is lethal if the person who is controlled is separated from their master. I cant even imagine what would happen if one were exposed to the love draught. Ron waved and headed out towards his team. As he approached, they were engaged in a lively argument as to the tactics of their recent exercise. Im telling you, I would have had her if she didnt cheat! Silas grumbled to the team. Sarah snickered. How did Captain Baretto cheat? Silas turned beet read and sputtered out a meek response. Well, er, um, I mean, well, she unbuttoned her shirt, all the way downI mean it wasnt fairthey were hanging all outthen that Lockley woman snuck up on me and then Baretto laughe d at meit wasnt natural. Sarah nodded and rose from her chair. A word of advice? When dealing with a lady, look at her eyes, and youll avoid all sorts of trouble. The laughter from the team caused Silas face to deepen to a dark shade of purple.

Chapter 174 The She-Woman Man Haters Club Lying within the borough of Leeds, in West Yorkshire, there is a small village called Boston Spa. Over the years, Boston Spa has housed recuperative spa resorts, the Royal Hotel and a Royal Ordnance Factory during the Second World War. The small village was now home to a sprawling complex of buildings that housed the Document Supply Collection and the Northern Reading Room of the British Library. It was a massive campus, built from the remains of the Ordnance Factory and home to countless collections of books and papers from time immemorial. Samantha Wilkes loved the library. It was a place where she could lose herself and her everyday troubles inside the confines of the tomes housed on the shelves of the library.

As a witch, Samantha also had access to a very special section of the facility. Building 25 was nestled in the back corner of the large set of buildings, accessible only through the myriad of corridors and passages that interconnected the separate buildings. Building 25, which to muggles was the Royal Depository for Tax Forms, was in fact, the primary public collection of books of the wizarding world, licensed into existence by an agreement between a previous Prime Minister and the Minister of Magic. Samantha was very good in her regular work within the library, which was to act as custodian of the facilitys genealogical database, but her special job was to be one of four special librarians that cared for the wizarding collection. What this meant, in real terms, for Samantha was that it gave her unparalleled access to a tremendous amount of information regarding spells and wizarding history. It was here she came across an obscure book, called Loves Dark Heart by a woman named Lucrezia Borgia. Borgia was a woman renowned throughout history as a person who cultivated personal power through her power over the various men in her life. It was rumored that she kept a hollowed ring on her finger which she kept deadly poisons or powerful potions. Unbeknownst to most people, Lucrezia was a powerful witch who detailed her exploits against the members of the opposite sex in the book. She was well known for her ability to make men love her and then use them until she was tired and displaced them. Samantha was fascinated by her strength and her ability to hold power over men. A lot of what shed read was that potions and charms could induce fealty, but not real love and Borgia seemed to have hit on a way to make men love her, and after all, wasn t that what every women wanted? Something snapped in her a few weeks ago. The loss and the rejection that she felt had given way to a certain feeling of power when she let fly that charm which incinerated her ex-boyfriends car, especially considering that he was in it at the time. Borgia could care less, from what she could read. Lucrezias problem was that she did these things along, in a vacuum, but imagine the power that would have been at her beck and call had she not been alone. Samantha wasnt necessarily thinking about having a harem of men, although that might play into the master plan, but what if she could recruit women of similar circumstances? What if she could find a number of women whove suffered what she suffered? There would be an opportunity here to create a new Amazonian empire, a world where men no longer could take advantage of them, a world where men worshiped the ground she walked on. The prospects were intoxicating for her. It all started with the acquisition of dragons eggs, but it didnt end there. Carefully, she pulled down the book shed sequestered away from prying eyes and began to peruse the pages, getting her plan ready. *** Oi, Hagrid! You in there? Ron, accompanied by Sarah, Mortimer and Silas stood patiently outside the quaint, round structure that was the half-giants home. Ron lifted his fist to the door and pounded away at the stout oak structure. Hagrid! Wake up, will you? Whas all this now? The rough, deep voice of Rubeus Hagrid echoed out to t hem, as the Hogwarts Groundskeeper and resident Magical Beasts professor plodded out of the woods, a stag carefully balanced over his shoulder. Hey there, Ron, what brings you down this way? I was hoping we could talk, Hagrid. We need your help. Ron watched as the large man tossed his burden to the side and pushed open the door. Sure, Ron. Come on in, all of you, an Ill put on a pot of tea. He led the quartet into the warmth of his one room hut and closed the door behind him. He set about placing a teapot to boil and sat down to remove his boots, with a sigh of relief. So, what can I help ye with? Ron sat back and shared a sidelong glance with Sarah. Hagrid, if someone were to want to acquire a dragons egg, who might they go to?

Hagrid eyed Ron carefully, a choking cough interrupting his stare. What do ye mean Ron? I got no idea whered a man could get a dragons egg. Theyre illegal, you know. Come on Hagrid. This is important. We need to find a line on who would supply these things. Theres been a rash of egg thefts which means someone has ramped up the demand. Ron stood and approached Hagrid. You must know someone. Hagrid cleared his throat and found it hard to look Ron in the eye. I don know what yer talking about, Ron. I don deal with criminals. Hagrid! Weve got it on good authority that whoever is taking these eggs doesnt want to raise dragons. They want to make potions. Ron watched as Hagrids eyes grew wide. But thatll kill the wee lambs inside the eggs! Thas barbaric! Hagrids voice had risen a few octaves. Sarahs soothing voice reached up to the giants ear. Thats why we need your help, Hagrid. Weve got to stop whoever is doing this. Hagrid stood and paced the room for a moment. He took the boiling kettle off the fire and poured out some cups of tea and handed them out. He sighed and sat down heavily in his comfortable chair. All right, all right. I don know fer sure, but I hear tell tha if someone was interested in getting a real live dragons egg, that someone should go see Billie Tunstall. Thats what I hear, round about. Tunstall? Who is he? Mortimer sipped his tea thoughtfully. Hes someone I hear can get things that are hard to get, boy. Hagrids reply c ame out a little sharp, causing Mortimer to flinch a bit. How could someone find this man, Hagrid? If someone were looking for him? Ron gave Mortimer a warning look and drew the big mans focus back to the task. I don know, Ron. Thas the truth. I always went to Aberforth when I needed to talk to him, I mean, I hear thas where people go to find him. Hagrid rubbed his hands together nervously while Ron motioned over to his team that it was time to go. I guess well just have to ask Aberforth. Ron opened the door and ushered his team out. I hope you find who yer lookin for, Ron. But, if you would, don tell Aberforth who tol you about Billie. I still like to have a place to drink, ye know. Hagrid looked at Ron anxiously, waiting for the Aurors response. Ron simply touched his finger to his forehead and walked out the door. He joined his team members standing outside Hagrids. Well, it looks like we have to go see Aberforth. Great, and Aurors are so popular with him nowadays. Silas grumbled between this teeth. Ron stared down towards the gates to Hogwarts. I dont know, Aberforth can be reasonable from time to time. Sarah shook her head. I dont know, Ron. Harry was pretty heavy handed with him when we were looking for these two and Fletcher.

Maybe. I guess well just have to find out. Ron beckoned them to follow and walked down the path, heading for Hogsmeade. *** She tried to remain unobtrusive in the crowded atmosphere of the Leaky Cauldron. Shed found a place along the wall and sipped on her flagon of wine carefully, mindful of what the alcohol would do to her. Right now, she was people watching, laying back and observing the ins and outs of the interactions of the pubs patrons, making note of potential e nlistees to her cause. She immediately eliminated the bouncy blonde behind the bar. The woman seemed too happy and even more so when a tall, gangly man of rather dubious looks arrived and the barmaid greeted him by calling out his name loudly and kissing him full on the lips. What kind of name was Neville, anyway? Her eyes perused the crowd, which seemed to consist of couples and groups of friends. The couples were typical, men telling outlandish lies to keep the women interested and the women falling for them. Here and there, she saw possible candidates. Women paired with men who would allow a wandering glance when their date wasnt looking. Samantha was half way tempted to let those women know just how loathsome their companion was, but she held herself back. Finally, the first possibility raised its head. The couple wasnt fighting, but the girl had the telltale expression of a woman receiving bad news. Her eyes were pleading, but the girl was afraid to speak lest she burst into tears. Her date was delivering whatever line he had brought her there to deliver. After a few moments, he stood, paid the bill and walked out, leaving the girl by herself to her misery. Samantha watched the girl. She was young, probably no more than her early twenties and she was on the ragged edge of holding herself together. She was pretty, in a plain sort of way, wearing jeans and a high necked, long sleeve sweater. Samantha bode her time, knowing the girl would not be able to control her emotions and would make for the one place a woman felt safe in public. After about a minute, the girl stood and made for the ladies room. Samantha smiled and rose from her table and followed after a few minutes. When she walked in, the girl was daubing her eyes with a piece of tissue paper. Samantha stood next to her at the bank of sinks backed by a long, wall length mirror. The woman was sobbing, trying to gain control of herself and Samantha reached into her purse and pulled out a cloth handkerchief. Smiling to the girl by catching her eye in the mirror, Samantha handed her the handkerchief. Is everything all right? Samantha found it easy to affect a sympathetic tone. Shed been where this girl had been. The girl managed a weak smile. Oh, Im fine and then she burst into another round of crying. I know its none of my business, but for what its worth, I think he was fool to break up with you. Samantha placed a reassuring arm around the girls shoulders. He said that he as doing me a favor. He needed find himself, and that meant that he couldnt devote the time I deserved to me. Do you think thats true? She wanted validation, but Samantha had heard the same line before, from several men. I dont know, what do you think? Seems to me that he thinks he has a better offer. Samantha locked eyes with the girl. I think he has someone else, too. I should have seen it coming. Hes been acting so strange lately. I just didnt want to believe it. Her crying had started to diminish. She smiled weakl y up at Samantha. Thanks for this. I shouldnt be burdening you with my problems.

Nonsense! Weve all been there before. You just have to come back stronger, use your support system, your friends, your family, theyll all be there for you. The ba it was slowly being lowered into the water. The girl gave out a derisive laugh. I dont have any friends or family. My parents died when I was young and I had just moved here to be with him. I dont have any friends. Samantha managed to hide her delight. Well, you have one now. My name is Samantha, but my friends call me Sam. Nice to meet you Sam. Im Bonnie. They shook hands and Bonnie took a deep breath. Well Bonnie, youre not alone and you deserve better. Samantha moved in for the kill. If I were you, Id make him pay for treating you like this. I dont know Sam. I wouldnt know where to start, besides it sounds a little extreme, a little desperate. Samantha decided to go for the kill. Oh, its not like that, Bonnie. Samantha reached into her pants pocket and pulled out a small business card. I run a support group for women who have been going through a tough time with men. You should join us. Maybe between the lot of us, we can find a way to express your displeasure with this loser. Bonnie took the card and glanced down at it. Are you some sort of therapist? Oh, Merlins beard no! Im a librarian, but Ive been through what youve been through. Maybe we can help each other. Were having our first meeting next Friday night. Can you come? Sure. It might be fun. Bonnie had cheered up considerably. Good, now why dont you go home, take a hot bath and rest. Ill see you next week, okay? Bonnie nodded and walked out, leaving Samantha standing by her self. Shed found her first recruit. *** Get out of my pub! I dont want any Ministry types in my pub! Go flash your pretty badges somewhere else. Go on now, get going! Aberforths face was flush and hed exploded into anger as soon as the four Aurors walked in. I aint breaking any laws and I dont want anything to do with you sanctimonious Aurors. Ron held up his hands. Come on Aberforth, its me, Ron Weasley. I know who you are boy, and youre tied at the hip with Potter. He comes tr aipsing in here and scaring off my customers with no never mind or how do you do. Well, I aint got to help you and I got nothing to say to any of you. Aberforths eyes were bulging from their sockets while several of his customers were nodding in agreement. Hello, Aberforth. The figure in the doorway leaned up against the jamb, relaxed. He was tall, dressed in black jeans and a dark, battered leather jacket. He had striking red hair drawn into a long ponytail and a face full of freckles that was interrupted in certain places by small scars. Charlie, my boy! What the blazes are you doing here? Aberforth seemed to ignore Ron and his companions as he stretched out a hand towards the Weasleys second oldest child.

Charlie reached into folds of his jacket and pulled out an old, dirty bottle with a dusty label and dark green colored glass. He walked up to the bar and handed it Aberforth, who let out a low whistle. Romanian Dragon Tears Ambrosia, you spoil me boy! Aberforth practically bou nced around the bar and drew out two small shot glasses. Charlie looked over at Ron and motioned for his brother to give him a few minutes with the bartender. Ron nodded and led his team out the door. All the while, Aberforth dusted off the cap of the bottle and poured a couple of shots of the light blue liquid. You know, Charlie, this is illegal in most parts. Aberforth and Charlie picked up their glasses. Charlie tapped the rim of his glass on Aberforths. Anything worth the taste, usually is. The pair laughed and tossed back their drinks and then Aberforth reached for the bottle. *** Ron led his team down to the other side of Hogsmeade to the Three Broomsticks. This pub was more genteel, more laid back and they quickly found a table and ordered some drinks. Madame Rosmerta made a big show of greeting Ron, who blushed unabashedly at her attention. Hows married life treating you, Ron? Madame Rosmerta was very pretty, with womanly curves in all the right places. Hermione used to like to tease Ron, because of the fact that he liked to come see the shapely bar owner from time to time. Just fine. Its been a long time. Ron cast a quick glare in Mortimer and Silas direction as the two Aurors snorted. Rosmerta winked and walked off to take care of some patrons, and Ron found himself following her with his eyes. He felt Sarahs booted foot come down on his toe. He let out a small yelp and stared at Sarah, who was grinning from ear to ear. Hermione asked me to keep you out of trouble. Sarah giggled as a hurt expression crossed Rons face. She did? Now my wife has a spy in my team? Ron looked over at Mortimer and Silas who were sharing a snicker. Well, um, Ron, she asked me and Silas to do the same thing a while back. R on raised his hands in surrender. Hermione had outfoxed him again. They chatted idly for almost an hour before the door opened, revealing Charlie, who was slightly unsteady on his feet. Charlie carefully tried to navigate through Madame Rosmertas ebull ient greeting and made his way to the table of Aurors. Ron poured his brother a draught of ale and smiled. Well? Charlie nodded and pulled out a slip of paper. We meet with Billie Tunstall tomorrow. Where? Ron accepted the paper and read the sc rawl. His eyes widened and he stared at his brother once more. Is this serious? Charlie nodded and took a sip of his ale, trying to take the hair off the dog. Yep, and just you and me, no one else. Ron nodded and Sarah glanced over at Rons worried face. Where do you have to meet him? He wants to meet us at midnight, at Hades Pub. Ron shared a look with his brother who nodded.

Silas looked at his team leader curiously. Ive never heard of that place. Where is it? Sarahs shocked voice came out almost involuntarily. Its in Knockturn Alley. She reached out and grasped her drink and took a long pull. Chapter 175 Knockturn Alley The more things change, the more they stay the same. Such was the case of Knockturn Alley. Despite the changes in wizarding society brought about by the defeat of the Dark Lord and the openness to diversity among the magical cultures, Knockturn Alley remained a bastion of the grayer side of life. Despite the fact that Borgin and Burkes had been closed down, the building and its wares had long since been reopened under the same name with a different proprietor. This section of Diagon Alley was distinctly darker, less inviting. Its orientation, running north and south, allowed what little sun that played through to cast dark shadows along the sides of the throughway. Its patrons clung to these shadows, pulling black robes and hoods over their heads to maintain some semblance of obscurity and carefully avoiding the single sliver of bright sunlight that cut through the center of the path. The merchants of Knockturn Alley walked a fine line between the Dark Arts and the law. A fascination with the Dark Arts wasnt necessarily illegal, neither was practicing some of the magic, to a point. The problem, as had been shown hundreds of times, was that dark magic never seemed to limit itself to academic pursuits. It was a driving, ever building sequence of events that led down a path driven by the acquisition of personal power largely at the expense of others. Still, Arthur Weasley agreed with a long line of his predecessors, one simply couldnt just outlaw the shadowy purveyors of the dark magic. As Dumbledore had once said to the Wizengamot, there was a balance in the universe and the light could not exist without the darkness. As such, as loathsome and terrifying as Knockturn Alley could be, its very existence validated the good in the world and would remain for the foreseeable future. If daytime in Knockturn Alley hovered in shrouds of darkness, night time was distinctly black. A brisk fall chill hovered over the area, bringing a stubborn mist that hovered over the broken cobblestones. Ron and Charlie walked steadily from place where Diagon Alley met Knockturn Alley. They looked more like brothers than Ron could remember. The red hair and freckles, to be sure, had always marked them as Weasleys, but both men had allowed their fine auburn locks to grow long, and had them pinned back in ponytails. Charlies freckled face was marked by thin scar lines and burn marks, a testament to his lifes devotion to wrangling dragons, while Rons face had begun to show many an age line and several scars of his own, a reminder of the often dangerous and stress inducing nature of his own work as an Auror. For the most part, wizards tended to dress not to distinctly from muggles, but in wizarding gathering spots like Diagon Alley or the Ministry of Magic, the magical people tended to revert back to wearing their robes as a sign of commitment to their community. Ron pulled the edges of robe around his shoulders, leaving his hood draped across his back. He wore black trousers tucked into the tops of a pair of heavy black boots, his foot falls echoing in the darkness. His eyes wandered back and forth, surveying the hidden corners and alleys that dotted their progress. Charlie wore a long, black set of robes made of hearty leather. His boots were lower cut and heavier, much like workmans boots and hed donned a pair of dark gloves. His stride was confident and he stayed shoulder to shoulder with his brother. Whats with the leather, anyway? Ron spoke out of the side of his mouth, never allowing his gaze to leave the street. Charlie adjusted the front of the robe and chuckled. Fireproof. Ron smacked his forehead and laughed. They passed by Borgin and Burkes and saw the stores front doors thrown wide open and a good amount of traffic flow cycling in and out of the place.

Rons eyes were drawn to a slightly built woman with brown hair who seemed relativel y normal looking for Knockturn Alley, but she hurried into the store and disappeared among the shelves. Shrugging, Ron walked past and continued down the alley. *** Samantha Wilkes tried to blend in with the people in Knockturn Alley. Some of the ingredients she needed for her love potion could only be found here. She walked briskly, carefully avoiding eye contact. Her dark green robe was pulled tight across her shoulders and shed tried to wear as unobtrusive of an outfit as possible. She walked out of the poisonous candle shop and turned down towards Borgin and Burkes. She saw two men approaching from up the alley, both in long black robes and with distinctly long, bright red hair, drawn up in ponytails. They were obviously brothers, or related in some way. As she neared Borgin and Burkes, one of the men seemed to take an interest in her, not in some leering way, but more curious as to her presence in Knockturn Alley. Subconsciously, she took a quick look at her appearance and realized that despite her attempts, she simply didnt look like she belonged here and it had drawn the eye of the approaching man. Curiously, the man didnt seem to belong here either. His bearing and wariness told her that he was anxious about being down in this part of the alley. His companion seemed rougher, much more at ease among the denizens of Knockturn Alley. There was something else about the approaching man. Although he wasnt wearing any insignia or calling attention to himself, he seemed official. He had a bearing and stature that screamed out Auror to her and that made him a threat. Quickly, Samantha turned into Borgin and Burkes and turned down the myriad of aisles and bookcases. She watched carefully as the man and his companion continued on down the alley and let out a sigh of relief. Taking stock of where she was, she began to search for the ingredients she needed to finish her potion. *** That was odd. Ron mumbled, almost to himself and he took a quick glance back at Borgin and Burkes. What was that? Charlies reply came out instantaneously and he followed Rons gaze back to the dark arts store. Ron turned back around and faced forward. That woman seemed a bit out of place. I wonder if shes lost. Knockturn Alley isnt a place for sight seeing, especially at night. Look whos talking. You need to relax. You practically scream copper out here. Charlie laughed out loud and tugged on Rons sleeve. Come on, we dont want to be late. Ron took one more glance back at the store opening and followed behind Charlie. Contrary to how things worked in Diagon Alley, Knockturn Alley came alive after dark. While the vendors and shopkeepers started shutting down in the main part of the shopping district, the keepers down in Knockturn started experiencing an up turn in traffic. There were a good number of people out and about, all avoiding eye contact with one another and keeping to themselves. Individuals would be out, hawking wares and judging the vulnerability of the passers by, playing a game of identify the sucker. None seemed to want to interact with the two Weasley boys and kept a healthy distance back. After passing Borgin and Burkes, the alley came to an end and branched off into two directions, both equally dim and gloomy. Charlie didnt hesitate and walked down the left hand path, keeping a steady gait. At the end of the alley, there was a small, gas lit sign in dark red flames highlighting a pair of arched doors. The sign flashed wickedly the word Hades.

This is it. Charlie whispered as he and Ron stood outside the entrance to the pub. Stay close to me and try not to make eye contact with anyone. You already look like a copper and people in here wont care. This is the seedy underside of wizarding Britain. C harlie clapped his brother on the back while Ron nodded slowly and took a deep breath. Together, the brothers entered the bar. The doors opened into a long hallway with thick walls made of plaster and stucco. At the side was a darkened room that in better days would have held a coat check and attendant. They walked down the passage and came to a raised landing overlooking a large, smoke filled room with dozens of people and magical creatures milling about. The far wall held a long bar and the back walls had small alcoves with round tables affording a modicum of privacy. In the center of the room, a mixed bag of house elves and dwarves were plying away on dented, beaten instruments, and a melancholy mix of jazz and the blues wafted its way across the room. There was a wide sweeping staircase that led from the landing down into the main bar area and Charlie and Ron followed it down and made for the center portion of the bar. Hey there, Charlie! A gruff, gravelly voice echoed to them and they turned to face a large, hairy man, who seemed half troll and half moose. The hulking figure came up to Charlie and gave him a bear hug (no pun intended). Charlie smiled at the man and then turned to Ron. Wait here, Im going to ask around. Charlie followed the man mountain, leaving Ron by himself at the bar. Ron wondered how his brother knew anyone in this place and watched as Charlie walked back to the row of alcoves against the wall. He turned and faced the bar and placed a galleon on the flat, wet surface of the bar, nodding his head to the surly bartender. The man grunted and placed a stein of beer down and turned around. Ron leaned against the bar and tried to quietly glance around, taking in the odd assortment of characters that were interacting. As he stared over at a woman whose hair seemed be made from some furry creature resembling a ferret, he felt someone bump him from behind, causing his beer to spill. Ron whirled around and came face to face with a tall, hulking beast, dressed in a loin cloth and very sharp teeth. The animal held a massive cup in his hand and seemed to be grunting in some sort of guttural language. A short, weasel of a man walked up and put a finger in Rons face. He doesnt like you. The man sneered at Ron. Im sorry. Ron looked at the odd pair, his hand tingling as he felt his wand strapped securely in a quick draw sheath in the sleeve of his robe. I dont like you, either. The small man had shaking jowls and spittle shot from his face as he jeered at Ron. Youd better be careful. We have a death sentence in twelve countries. The man was definitely proud of this accomplishment. Ron kept his legs apart. Ill be careful. Youll be dead! The man grabbed Rons arm and whirled him around, just as Charlies voice broke the confrontation. This one isnt worth the trouble. Come, let me buy you a drink. Charlie tried to be cordial, but he beast man let out a roar, raising his gorilla-like arms in the air. The frightened bartender let out a scream. No Unforgiveables, No Unforgiveables! There was a loud snap hum and a bright blue light leapt from Charlies hand and a quick non verbal spell sent both of the assailants flying across the room and into a hard portion of the wall, knocking both out. Charlie stood tall, holding the wandsaber in his hands. He whispered a quick

command the light dissipated and he placed back within the folds of his robe. Ron whistled in awe. Where the devil did you get that? Ron dusted himself off and stared at his brother. Charlie shrugged his shoulders. I traded a dragon scale shield with one of the Americans from the battle for it. Ron gave his brother a disbelieving look. Charlie raised his arms in mock protest. What? I thought they were cool. Come on, I found where this Tunstall is. Ron followed as Charlie walked towards the group of alcoves on the far wall. The bar had already seemed to forget the recent fight and gone back to their drinks, while the band resumed its tune. Charlie, how do you know people here? Ron followed behind Charlie, trying to keep up. Well, Ron. Dragon tamers are a rough lot. We draw from the fringes of society and have to deal with some of the more colorful characters. You might say that were kindred spirits. Some of the things we need for our jobs are better purchased from people like the ones here, and not through normal channels. Charlie offered an apologetic smile and paused in front of one of the alcoves. A dark purple curtain was drawn across the opening and Charlie cleared his throat. A voice in a small whisper rang out. Come in, please. Ron pulled back the curtain and peered inside the alcove. It was round with a bench seat around the wall and a circular table filling the middle. Seated at one end was a stunningly beautiful woman, with raven black hair and piercing violet eyes. She had high cheek bones and full, red lips locked in a perpetual grin. She wore a leather jerkin over a royal blue blouse with skin tight black leather pants and boots with high heels. There was a hint of color in her cheeks and Ron stared agape as he sat down, followed by Charlie. Youre Billie Tunstall? Ron finally stammered and looked over at Charlie who had a playful smile on his face. Thats me. Wilhelmina Tunstall. I find that Billie works well in this line of business. Now you two. Her eyes twinkled in merriment as she looked at Ron and Charlie in turn. Ron Weasley, a senior Auror with the Ministry of Magic, not good for my business to be seen with you. When her eyes turned to Charlie, they seemed to dance with a fire. Charlie Weasley, you are an interesting character. Dragon tamer, adventurer and quite the lady killer, from what I hear. Charlie raised the glass that had placed in front of him. Charmed, Im sure. So what can I do for you gentlemen? She leaned back and contemplated the brothers. Ron gulped down his drink and opted for the truth. Well, Billie, rumor has it that there has been a increase in requests for dragons egg s, from one buyer. In a roundabout way, weve been told that youre someone that can, shall we say, fulfill exotic requests. She laughed and Ron blushed from his verbal gaffe. What I mean, is that you are someone who would be asked about these things. She became sober right away. Hypothetically, why would the Ministry care? Charlie spoke up. Well, these eggs arent being used to groom or raise dragons. Someone wants to process them for powerful potions. The dragons die as a result. She was momentarily taken aback by Charlies passion for the dragons and she took a sip of her drink. Ron spoke up.

So you see, we dont want the supplier, we want the person who would ask for the eggs and definitely we dont want you to fill the order. Can you help us? Ron watched as Billie looked over at Charlie, who was staring at his drink. Lets say someone has made a request and I placed feelers out to my suppliers. I can be persuaded to send the eggs back, and even help you with meeting this buyer. I will say, the person whom you seek already bought the two eggs I had. They wanted a full dozen more. I should be hearing from her any time now, to discuss payment for the rest. I can let you know when I hear from them. Her eyes never left Charlie . Ron nudged his brother, forcing him to stand, while Ron followed close behind. Ron reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, silver charm that looked very similar to his Aurors shield. He tossed it on the table. Tap that three times when you want to contact me. Ill be waiting. Ron nodded and started to leave, his brother in tow. You sure you want to leave. You could have another drink, you know. Her voice was sultry, full of confidence. Ron blushed. I really must be going She interrupted him. Not you. She pointed a long finger over at Charlie. Him. Charlie looked up and smiled at her. He gave nod to his brother and casually sat back down at the table. Ron sighed and started walking out towards the steps leading to exit. He took a quick look back and watched as Billie Tunstall pulled the curtain down over the alcove. Ron shook his head once more and made his way out into the cold of the night. Chapter 176 The Society of the Black Widow The North Reading Room of the Boston Spa campus of the British Library was often reserved for small gatherings, typically book clubs. The security guard walked past the glass door and saw several women seated in the room with one of the lesser known librarians standing in front of them. He nodded in recognition to the woman and moved on with his rounds. Inside the room, about a dozen women sat in rapt attention as Samantha Wilkes conducted her meeting. She wore a simple black dress with a hem that stopped just above her knees. Attached to the lapel of the dress was a broach shaped like an hourglass and bright red in color. Samantha held open a large book and displayed a color photograph of a large, black spider with a red hourglass shape on its lower bodice. Standing there, Samantha seemed to be paying homage to the spider. Contrary to popular belief, the black widow doesnt, as a rule, kill and eat its mate after procreation. It only does that on very rare occasions, when food is scarce or when the mate poses a threat. In essence, the black widow kills only when it is necessary. Her eyes blazed and the women in the room seemed to hang on her every word. In every way, save one, they were as different from each other and from her as could possibly be imagined. Some were tall, others short while some were overweight while others were rail thin. There were blondes, brunettes, and redheads with eyes ranging from brown to blue to emerald green. They were microcosm of wizarding society, drawn together by a commonality that was evident by their expressions. They looked lost, beaten and drawn down. Despite any natural beauty that they possessed, they had the look of the downtrodden, the weary. Life had been especially unkind to these women and Samantha had tapped into their greatest vulnerabilities, their issues with love and relationships to bring them together.

She held up a small vial of bright red liquid. In the harsh florescent light of the reading room, it looked like blood, save for the luminescent silver flak es that were suspended in the serum. This is a love potion. One dragon egg can produce six of these vials. It is one of the most potent potions ever conceived and it will drive a man to true love. Bonnie, her first recruit, looked at the vial in askance. I dont know Sam, it seems almost like were compelling people to love us. You say it induces true love, but its fatal if the mans eye is turned by another. Whats different between this and the Imperious Curse? Thats a good question, Bonnie. This potion goes to the heart. It drives the man to recognize the inner beauty that exists within each of us. The difference is that it doesnt change who the man is. The deadly component only looks at the evil that resides within the man, and penalizes him for following his blackest nature. Samantha looked around the room. Weve all seen what that nature can do to us, some more than others. All of the women in the room had been wronged badly, some worse than others. They were the victims of ma ns basest nature, that to deceive and exploit someone weaker. Leaning back in a plush, leather settee, one woman raised her hand. Her expression was more cross than timid or sad and her eyebrows were drawn together in contemplation. Samantha nodded her head and the woman spoke in a surprisingly strident tone. What about married men? I beg your pardon? Samantha stared at the woman, Anna Reynolds was her name. She was a tall woman with long, light brown hair and a narrow, drawn face. Her eyes were black, almost doll like and she seemed to have a perpetual sneer on her face. What about married men? What would this do to a married man? Would it still make them love us? Her voice was raspy, almost hoarse. I dont think that would work. Another woman in the corner, sitting next to Bonnie raised her head. I mean, if a man is married, his loyalties are divided. That means taking the potion, by definition, would be fatal. Ive got no problem with that. Anna smiled coldly. The man I was thinking about broke off our engagement to marry some other trollop. He would deserve it. I thought this was about justice, not revenge? Bonnie stood up and faced Anna. Im not doing this to get back at every man that let me down. Besides, what about the wives? Arent we hurting them too? Samantha sighed. Anna, thats not our intent. Although, we should consider the more egregious offenders, like men who abuse women and such. Now that would be justice. The women seemed to accept her explanation and collectively their eyes returned to the tiny vial. Samantha reached into a small box and began handing out the vials. I have one for each of you. We have enough of the potions for you to initiate a relationship. It takes three doses for the effects to be made permanent. All you need to do is place the draughts in a drink or in their food. Before you do, you must put a part of you in the potion: a hair, or skin or a drop of blood, so that, the man will be devoted to you. If you give the potion out in its existing form, the man will become attached to the first woman he sees. She finished handing out the potions. I would recommend that we stay away from men with girlfriends or wives. We havent secured enough of the ingredients to make more. Right now, we just want to make sure we find men worthy of our attentions. Agreed? There were nods, although Anna seemed to ignore the conversation. Her face and her mind seemed to be fixated elsewhere.

Another of the women raised her hand. When will you be able to get more? Were working on that. We should know by the next meeting. Samantha pointed a group of them who were responsible for getting the items together. Any other questions? There were none. Samantha reached into her bag and pulled out a series of jewelry boxes. The broach seemed a little much, but I wanted us to be united in our cause. In these boxes, Ive crafted a badge for us. She opened one of the boxes. Inside, there was a pair of ear rings, fashioned in the shape of a dark black stone, like onyx, with the bright red hourglass shape of the black widows signature. She handed them around, allowing the women to put them on. Welcome to the Society of the Black Widow. Now, lets go out there and find our mates, and Merlin help them if they try to hurt us again. The women shared a laugh and began to file out of the room. Samantha stayed behind with the women who had been tasked to secure more of the potion ingredients. As she started her planning session, she failed to notice Anna lurking about in the hall, her eyes focused on the vial in her hand. Her black eyes danced with the possibilities this potion offered her. There was a man who needed her undivided attention. *** Ron had divided his team into groups. One group, headed by Mortimer and Sarah was responsible for researching the properties of love potions and imperious draughts based on dragons eggs. The other group, led by Silas and Bryan was investigating other procurement avenues for the eggs themselves. For the most part, the legitimate avenues were covered. A meeting with Draco Malfoy had helped illuminate how stringent the import/export rules on such items. The more shady sources were fewer and far between. Billie Tunstall was by far their best lead in that arena. The research into the potions was yielding significantly more details as to the nature of the problem. Sarah and Mortimer, with Betsy in tow had tracked down potion masters and obscure tomes about potions and spent long hours trying to piece together what was going on. Ron had even asked his brother George to join in the research, given the fact that Weasleys Wheezes had once sold such items until Verity Weasley had made a point to dispatch all the stock into a fiery cauldron. Being able to narrow down the key ingredient of the dragons eggs brought the problem in real focus. Most of what was considered as love potions were actually bewitching potions that clouded the mind of the target. Dragons eggs made the potions something different. The dragons eggs have a property which insinuates itself into the psyche of the person who drinks it. Sarah had their attention as she briefed them in the conference room. Instead of just taking over the mind, against the will of the target, it changes the brain chemistry and makes the person actually love the potion maker, especially if they have placed a hair or something else in the potion. So, the persons mind is altered? Ron sat back, listening. Yes and no. A better way to put it is the persons mind is opened to the possibility that the person who gave them the potion is The One above all others. Mortimer spoke up, having pulled his head up from a large, leathery book he had been reading. It affects the parts of the brain that impact addiction. The target becomes addicted to the person who gives them the potion. Sarah stood and started pacing. Thats what makes it so insidious.

Ron sat for a moment, contemplating what had been said. A thought raced through his brain based on what hes seen in some of the seedier parts of society. Wait a minute, this causes an addiction, so what happens if the person strays. What happens if the person who is addicted suffers withdrawal? Sarah looked at Mortimer who shook his head slowly. The addiction is strong. A full dose means that if the target strays, they die. Ron nodded soberly, the import of their mission weighing on him. He looked at his research team. Does the potion only work on women or men or both? Dragons eggs love potions do not discriminate. They work on men and women equally. Mortimer was confident in his answer. Anything else? Ron looked around the table and then adjourned the meeting. Okay, everyone, I think the priority is to find out whos buying the eggs. Everything else is secondary. Lets get moving. The team rose and walked out the door. Ron collected his notes and started heading for his desk. As he reached the row of cubicles that marked his team area, he spotted his brother Charlie reclining in his chair, his booted feet propped up on Rons desk, a self -satisfied grin on his face. Well, look what the cat dragged in. Ron pushed his brothers feet off the desk. Are you just getting in now? Its almost three in the afternoon. What can I say, Ron? I was keeping a close eye on our best source of information. Charlie sighed and Ron chuckled. That fun, eh? Ron sat on his desk. So, how was it? Charlie laughed and bowed his head. A gentleman never tells. This brought a hearty laugh from Ron. Gentleman, right. If Im not mistaken, you have some scars on you that werent there last night. Ron watched as Charlie blushed and raised a hand to his face. Trying to recover quickly, Charlie cleared his throat and eyed his brother. Billie is meeting her source tonight, at midnight on Pier Twenty One. They will discuss terms and Billie will hand over another egg. I gave her one that has been mocked up, not a real one. Charlie held up his hand to his brother. Dont worry, theres enough of the real thing to fool anyone, but not enough to be worth anything. Id suggest you put your team in place to follow the target. I agree. Maybe we can nip this in the bud. Thanks, Charlie. Ron ros e and began summoning his team together. Charlie called out to his brother. Can you make sure to get this done tonight? Why? Ron asked absently as he was planning the surveillance. I have another date with Billie tomorrow night; I dont want her to be too busy. Ron gave his brother another glance. What? Its nothing, really. Rons expression hadnt changed at Charlies protestations. Really, shes buying dinner. Thats it.

Unconvinced, Ron snickered and got his team ready for the nights activities. *** Kevin Durand walked briskly down the street, his mind focused on the shopping list his wife had given him. Their new baby had brought many sleepless nights, but Kevin wouldnt have it any other way. He rushed along and almost didnt notice the tall woman standing in front him until he was right on top of her. Hello, Kevin. The woman stood in front of him, her arms crossed. He stared at her and recognition dawned slowly. Anna? Anna Reynolds? How are you? Whats it been, ten years? Eleven, but whos counting? Anna stood her ground, the man who had spurned her all those years ago finally standing in front of her. Eleven years, how extraordinary. Annas silence was awkward and Kevin started to walk forward. Well, Ive got to go, Anna. Ive got to get home. Its been nice seeing you. Reynolds held out her hand, her wand extended. She petrified Kevin, leaving him stunned. I just wanted to say hi, Kevin, and give you a present. She walked in front of him and pulled out the vial. Carefully, she poured the liquid down his open mouth, forcing him to ingest it. She released him from the hold of the spell and waited. Regaining full use of his limbs, he coughed. What the devil did you do to me? The change began to overcome him. You look lovely, Anna. How did I miss how beautiful you are? He lost himself in looking at her and then he felt the paper in his hand. Why was he out here? His face became a mask of confusion and he looked at the paper in the familiar handwriting. He had a wife and a child. This was their list. Why did feel this way about Anna when he had them? For a moment, he thought about forgetting his life and following Anna, but the life hed had and the love he felt for his wife and child overcame him. He made to walk to the store, ignoring Anna and the penalty for his disloyalty hit him. His chest tightened and he gasped for air. He stared at Anna who had an evil grin on her face. His heart was on fire and it literally exploded in a cloud of flame and smoke and he burned from the inside out. His body fell to the ground and he reached out with his hand, as Anna watched his pitiful plea for mercy. She smiled and turned. As he died, she walked down the street and didnt look back. Her mind was focused on another man, whod denied his love for her. She was enjoying her power. Chapter 177 Rolling the Dice Low tide overcame the wharf area, leaving the mudflats of the river exposed to the moonlight. Pier Twenty One sat at the very end of the pier district. It was isolated, and run down, having been nominally reserved for second rate river barks that were long in the tooth and short on mooring fees. There was a large, decrepit warehouse building at the center of the pier, and the lighting was sparse as almost every other lamp was dark or broken. Shady characters dotted the area, making for an unwelcoming and unfriendly environment, turning away commoners from the prospect of meeting the unsavory that haunted the wharf area after dark. The exposed riverbed let loose the decaying smell of death and decay, casting a grim pall over the area. A dense fog hovered a few feet above the rotting wooden pilings that made up the dock. The faint tapping of shoes on wood echoed into the night air, announcing the arrival of someone decidedly out of place in this dark world. The woman pulled her overcoat tight across

her chest and crossed her arms to provide some semblance of protection against the chill and perhaps the dregs of society that were eyeing her with a certain hunger that was discomfiting to say the least. She walked steadily, looking towards the far end of the pier. In the fog, she could barely make out the shadowy figures awaiting her arrival. She took a deep breath and tugged dutifully on the twin hourglass shaped earrings that hung from her lobes. Over her shoulder, she carried a black leather overnight bag that seemed to pull down on her. She strode carefully, trying to keep her heels from falling into the gaps between the wooden planks that made up the walkway. Her nostrils recoiled from the stench of the Thames at low tide. As she approached the end of the pier, she spied three figures standing underneath one of the working lights. Two were men; both were tall, wearing black overcoats and seemed decidedly surly. The men must have been related as they both had long red hair pulled into tight ponytails. One had scarring on his face and burn marks on his neck, belying a life of hardship. The others face was serious, his freckles were a stark contrast to the drawn out look of experience hed obviously had. Both men didnt smile. In fact, both seemed to be appraising her as a threat and scanning the surrounding area, in an almost protective stance. The object of their protection was the third figure in the group, the woman. She stood between her erstwhile protectors, in contrast to the two men, she was relaxed, almost nonchalant. Her jet black hair was loose and fell about her back and shoulders. She had pale skin and high cheekbones and brilliant violet eyes that danced in the moonlight. Like the men, she wore a long, black trench coat which was open at the front revealing a voluptuous figure and long legs clothed in black trousers tucked into high, glossy leather boots. Her waist was bound by a wide leather belt, covering a loose, black flowing blouse. This was the woman who shed come to meet, and by her stance, obviously the woman in charge. Ms. Tunstall? As the woman reached the circle of light emitted by the lamp, she studiously ignored the hardened men and stared squarely at the woman at the center. Billie gave a sly grin and when she spoke, her voice was syrupy, almost joking, but not quite mocking. My, my, my, you are new to this, arent you? In this game, we dont use names, dearie. Its bad for business. The woman blushed profusely and stammered out a brief apology. Billie held up her hand and nodded to the bag on the womans shoulder. Is that the payment? Billie stepped forward and stood a few feet in front of the woman, who simply nodded and dropped the heavy sack to the ground. Its all there. Ten thousand galleons for one dragons egg, if youve got the merchandise. Her voice was stronger than she felt and the woman struggled to repress a shudder. Thats the deal, but youre not the woman I dealt with before. Id hate to sell this egg to someone its not promised to. Billie smiled, almost apologetically. As I said before, its bad for business. Billies statement caught Bonnie off guard. She cleared her throat. Im with the woman you dealt with. She told me to tell you that the pass word is Arachnid. Billies eyes narrowed and she seemed to be about to turn around and walk away. Bonnie held her breath, the fear and anxiety of being where she was and doing what she was about to do almost ready to overcome her. The two men with Billie gave Bonnie renewed interest and things seemed to be ready to go the wrong way. After a moments hesitation, Billie smiled and no dded her head.

Well, I dont see any problem. Billie nodded over to her left and Ron stepped forward and opened the satchel to check its contents. Standing there watching, a new cloud of nervousness overcame Bonnie and she placed a small hand over the bag. Can I see what Im buying? Of course, silly me! Billie snapped her fingers and Charlie stepped forward, removing a back pack that had been hidden by his stance. He whirled it around and handed it to Billie. Billie took the back and unzipped the main compartment. Carefully, she removed the bright, golden egg within. Bonnies eyes clouded over in delight. Absently, she removed her hand from the bag of galleons and reached forward to take the egg from Billies hand. She moved it around, her small hands barely able to grasp the treasure. She brought the egg to her face and sniffed around the perimeter. Dragons eggs emit the tell-tale odor of sulfur and jasmine, a unique combination based on the combustible nature of the beasts that germinated within. This was where the efficacy of Charlies forgery would tell the tale. Bonnie closed her eyes and drank in the twin aromas. One repellant and the other soothing, both fearsome and wonderful at the same time, like the dragons themselves. Charlie was good at what he did, despite his appearance of indifference; he knew his dragons and Bonnie was satisfied that she was holding the genuine article. Billie extended the empty back pack to Bonnie who gave the black marketer a blank stare. Billie chuckled. I dont think you want to be walking the streets carrying that thing in the open. Theres bound to questions. Again, Bonnies face flushed and she took the back pack and gently placed the egg into the bag. She closed it tightly and strapped the bag carefully to her back. Ron looked up and nodded to Billie, indicating the money was genuine and in the right amount. Bonnie smiled at Billie. Theres more where that came from, if you can get more eggs. Bonnie gripped the straps of her prize tightly and looked at Billie. I can get more. Im curious, what are you using these things for? Theyre hard to come by and as you know, very expensive. Billies voice was relaxed and Ron tried to keep his mask of stoic indifference in place. I thought you said the less you know, the better. None present could tell if the woman was suspicious or playful. Billie decided to play it off as if it were a joke. Well, we are a fast learner! Good for you! Shoulders seemed to noticeably relax. As to your other question, whatever youre using them for, youve caused quite a commotion in Romania. Im going to have to seek sources elsewhere. I can get you one egg per week for the next six weeks, but it will cost you. Twelve thousand galleons a piece. If Billie thought that raising her price would shock the woman, she was wrong. Bonnie nodded. I understand. Do we meet here, same time next week? Billie nodded and gave a cavalier salute to the woman with her index finger. Bonnie smiled and began walking down the pier. Ron and Charlie stood closer to Billie and watched the woman walk down the quay. Billie let out a low whistle. She didnt even blink when I raised the price. I know. Ron kept a close eye on the woman. That means either shes a complete amateur or money is no object. Either way, thats dangerous.

Soon, Bonnie had disappeared off the wharf and Billie clapped her hands together and looked at Ron. Well, Mr. Auror, Ill leave the law enforcement to you. Ive got plans. Billie started walking to the end of the pier, where a heretofore unseen launch stood at the ready. She stopped and turned back to the brothers. Well, are you coming, Dragon Man? Charlie shook out of his stupor and looked over at Ron. Duty calls. Charlie shared a laugh with his brother and then turned serious. Your people are in place, right? Those fake eggs are even more difficult to come by the real thing. Well be fine. Ron looked over at the coquettish but shady character that awaited his brother. You just try to get back in one piece, okay? Charlie smiled, the rogue back in his expression. Ill do my best but look at her. He motioned an arm towards Billie Tunstall. Id say Ive got my hands full. With that, he turned and sauntered over to Billie. Charlie held out his arm and she took and the pair stepped down into the waiting launch. Ron chuckled and looked down to the end of the pier. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out what appeared a small, silver cigarette lighter. He stared at it, his deluminator, the gift hed been bequeathed by Albus Dumbledore upon his former Headmasters death. He held it up and snapped the catch and immediately, the half dozen lamps that hed extinguished on the pier, lit up all at once, giving the impression that whatever circuit had blown was now repaired. Ron gently placed the device back in his pocket and sat on a nearby bollard to wait. *** Bonnie was halfway to the end of the pier when the lamp posts lit up. She shrugged her shoulders. Now that she was almost at the end of her mission, the lights decided to cooperate. She cinched up the bag on her back and continued walking towards the end of the pier. The shadows that seemed so threatening before seemed to disappear and for the first time this evening she felt safe. Her strides became longer and more confident and she stepped off the pier onto the concrete quay. For a moment, she thought she felt the brush of movement nearby. She stopped and looked around and then felt the wind from the river blow past her, bringing the chill of the early morning to her bones. She shivered and continued walking along the river. *** Sarah Jordan stood still, fearful that her disillusionment charm had been discovered. Shed been hiding, along with Mortimer and Silas, awaiting the womans return from the meeting with Billie and Ron. Sarah had almost made a mistake, almost bumping into the woman and revealing her presence. The pause made Sarah hold her breath and then the woman continued on and Sarah trailed behind her. She followed along, trailing the woman from a fair distance. Although she couldnt see them, Sarah could only hope that Mortimer and Silas were also following. Trailing the woman would take the three of them working together. The woman turned up a walkway that brought her to the busy pub district that followed the river road. There were more people here and Sarah ducked into a dark alley and cancelled out her charm. She was wearing street clothes and she snorted when she remembered the outfit shed worn her first day out with Harry, coincidently, when the two had first come across the juvenile delinquents that were Mortimer and Silas. Time had passed so swiftly. Between her marriage to Lee and the children and now those selfsame boys whod shed wanted to send to Azkaban were here trusted partners as Aurors. Life had moved apace all these years.

Sarah stepped out and caught sight of the woman walking down the street. A few feet ahead, Sarah spied Silas, now out of his own disillusionment charm, walking behind their target. Across the street, walking parallel, Mortimer had shed his Invisibility Cloak and was keeping pace. Ahead, the woman seemed to be making for the local tube entrance, hoping, probably to catch one of the last trains of the night. Sarah nodded over to Mortimer, who raced ahead to be in the tube station before the woman got there, in the event that Silas and Sarah got left behind. The woman did not seem to be aware of her surroundings, doing very little to check if she was being followed. When she reached the underground entrance, she walked in and paid her fare. They followed her to the platform, Mortimer already there and a few feet ahead. After a minute or so, she boarded the arriving train. Sarah entered her car while Mortimer entered the car ahead and Silas the car behind. The tube was packed as late night revelers made their way home. The woman stared straight ahead, studiously ignoring the other passengers, especially the couples who seemed to allow their drinking to lower their inhibitions. Once, when one particularly amorous couple sitting next to her, engaged in a bout of sickening baby talk, the woman rose and sat in the seat right next to Sarah. She gave Sarah a nod and kept facing forward. They rode the train for a while and the crowd began to thin out as stop after stop, people exited and headed home. Sarah was beginning to get worried, wondering if her staying on the train would raise suspicions. It was getting to a point where Sarah would have to debark and hope that Mortimer and Silas could cover the tail. The train came to a stop and the woman rose, heading for the door. Before Sarah could rise, Mortimer, in the car ahead held up his hand, indicating that she remain aboard. At first, Sarah was surprised then realization came to her. Shed been sitting with the woman for a long time. Theyd made eye contact. If Sarah exited the train, the woman would more than likely recognize her if Sarah followed. Sarah gave a slight nod and remained in her seat. The woman walked off the train and headed for the exit. As the train pulled away from the station, Sarah caught sight of Silas and Mortimer following behind the woman. It was now up to the two men. *** By sheer happenstance, Silas exited the tube station first and found himself behind their target. Mortimer crossed the street and kept his distance. The woman seemed to be walking faster, as a person would do as they neared their destination. Silas sped up his pace to keep the woman in sight. She turned into an alley, behind a row of houses. She was alone and Silas raised his hand, telling Mortimer to keep his distance. Silas crept up to the side of the alley and peered down. The woman was gone. He stepped out into the alley entrance and looked down. There was no sight of the woman. Silas looked back at Mortimer and waved him towards the front of the houses that comprised the alley. Mortimer nodded and walked ahead and turned the corner. Silas started walking down the darkened alley. He paced carefully, keeping his eyes scanning for any sign of the woman. He passed a large dumpster and heard a noise ahead. He peered carefully into the gloom and walked forward. Petrifcus Totalus! Silas felt his body lock up, unable to move. From the direction of the dumpster, he heard footsteps. They walked around to where he could see the source of his confinement. The woman hed been following was there with two other women, one with a rather large spi der broach on the lapel of her coat. I guess you thought you could take advantage of a helpless woman in the dark of the night? A tall woman with black eyes spoke up, a sneer on her face.

Quiet, Anna. The woman with the broach seemed to be the leader. She stepped towards Silas and searched his pockets, removing the thin billfold in his breast pocket. She opened it and her eyes grew wide. Hes an Auror. The woman hed been following gasped in surprise, while the woman named Anna had no expression at all. Samantha Wilkes studied Silas face and pondered their predicament. Why would an Auror be following Bonnie? Her eyes dropped to the bag over Bonnies shoulder and she winced. The Ministry seemed to be on to them already. Something had happened and she needed time to think. She looked around the alley, looking for signs of others. Weve got to get out of here. Theres no telling how many more of them there are. Samantha nodded to Bonnie who apparated away. What about him? There was something in Annas voice that was chilling. For a moment, Silas believed she wanted to kill him. Samantha shook her head. Well bring him with us. Her hand gripped the billfold while her other hand reached into her pocket, palming the vial of potion she held there. I think I have a way to get him to tell us how much the Ministry knows. Anna smiled wickedly and placed an arm around Silas. With a nod to Samantha she apparated away. Samantha took one more look around and cast a gaze at her home, the door beckoning her inside. With a sigh, she stood tall and disappeared into the night. *** Mortimer walked around the front of the houses and came back down from the alleys opposite entrance. He walked down the alley, but there was no sign of the woman or of Silas for that matter. He called out his friends name and his heart raced at the sudden realization that something was wrong. He sprinted down the alley and stopped in front of a large dumpster. He looked around and could find no sign of his friend, or the woman. A small sparkling object caught his eye. On the ground was a small piece of an earlobe, with a shiny black ear ring still caught in its grasp. There was a bright red hourglass on the ear ring. The ear lobe had the look of someone having been splinched during apparition. Whatever had happened, Silas and the woman were gone. Chapter 178 The Madness of a Woman Scorned Silas felt the disconcerting rush of movement and light that signified a side-along apparition. Hed apparated on several occasions, often in a group in conjunction with a tactical movement with a spear of Aurors. This feeling was something different. He was still locked in the confinement of the Petrificus charm, and was thus immobile. This created a complete sense of helplessness that was compounded by the normal sensations of the apparition. Within seconds, they reached their destination, and immediately there was a howl and a string of curses from the woman whod transported him. The voice of the woman whod he and Mortimer had been originally following hit his ears. What is it Anna? Damned brute was too big. I got splinched! Bonnie saw that Anna had her hand to her ear. Slowly, the small woman walked to her fellow Society member and placed a dainty hand to hers. Let me see it. Bonnie pulled at Annas hand and let out a small yelp of surprise. The whole lower lobe was simply gone, lost in the transition from the alley to here. The process had sealed

off what remained of the ear, so there was no pain or blood, but also there was almost no ear. Bonnie stared quickly at Anna who had blood in her eyes. The taller woman walked to a near wall and stared into a mirror hanging there. She stared at her image as her face grew darker, her black, lifeless eyes blazing in anger. She whirled around and drew her wand, its tip shaking as she pointed it at Silas. You! You did this to me! Her voice was cold, deadly. Silas was less struck by the vehemence but more by the complete lack of emotion in her words. This woman was going to kill her and he was helpless to stop her. Expelliarmus! The charm came from the side and knocked the wand from Annas hand. She spun and turned to the source of the spell and found Samantha standing in the room, recently arrived from the alley. Anna, hes no good to us dead. Get a hold of yourself. Look what he did to me! Anna seethed; a small portion of her unhinged mind was beginning to focus some of her anger on the woman whod brought them together. He needs to pay for this! Samantha sighed, the realization that Anna Reynolds was a sociopath was beginning to manifest itself. Before all was said and done, Samantha was sure shed have to do something about Anna. On the other hand, she was handy to have around. She was someone not tied by the constrictions of morality or squeamish about the more unpleasant tasks. Right now, she needed Anna Reynolds, and so, shed let the violent woman stay around. Anna, your ear can be fixed. We need to know what the Aurors know about us. We need to know if they will interfere with our plan. Samantha didnt plead. Anna had no respect for weakness and Samantha had to deal from a position of strength to keep the woman satisfied. You can have him when Im done with him. Until then, let someone take care of your ear. Anna rubbed the nub that had been her ear, all the while; her eyes remained locked in on Silas, who remained still. No. I think Ill keep it like this for a while, to remind me what m en can do to you, even when youre carrying them along. She smiled; a gesture devoid of mirth or joy. It was like a shark opening its maw to consume its prey. This one will learn justice soon enough. Anna went and retrieved her wand and then left the room to the others. *** Lachlan McCrory scratched his head as his team s coured the area around the body. The mans chest appeared to have burst outward for no reason. His team poured around the alley where the body was found. The Prime Minister had brought in the Ministry of Magic to this investigation for one reason. The man whod been killed had sparks filtering from the wound, despite the fact that hed obviously been dead for while. McCrory watched as one of his Aurors approached, holding out a worn wallet and identification papers. His name is Kevin Durand. Hes in the Hogwarts and Ministry registries. Married to a muggle woman and he lives down the road from here. Lachlan grunted and stared at the picture on the Durands identity card . He looked at the body. Kevin Durands face had a mix of pure love and absolute pain, as if he were changing emotions as he died. The senior Auror stroked his beard and walked to the body. The wound was still smoldering, pops of light and smoke emitting from the hole in his chest. Hed literally died of a broken heart. Lachlan allowed his nose to open up. Having seen death up close, hed trained himself for the odor that surrounded the dead. Nonetheless, there was something about this body that made him worried. He drew in the smoke that emitted from the dead mans chest and was surprised. At first, it was repugnant, but not the smell of decay, more like sulfur. Then, he

got the smell of jasmine, sweet and overpowering everything else. Lachlan stood abruptly and gestured to the nearest Auror. Get the body to St. Mungos. I believe hes ingested some sort of potion. Ask them to check for the remnants of dragons eggs. Sanitize the scene and get the Memory Squad out here. Clear out everyone, including the police. Do it now. Lachlan took another look around and then apparated away, a troubled look on his face. *** Incarcerous! Silas could feel the heavy ropes wrap around him. Bound, he heard the same voice remove his Petrificus hold. He was still constricted, but now he could move his head and his jaw. He tested their movement and looked about the room. The brown haired woman hes seen with their target was there, as was the woman with one ear. Anna, hed her name, was pacing the back wall of the dank, dark room they held him in. The other one was obviously the leader. She had worry lines on her face, but seemed more in control of her emotions and a little apprehensive at his presence. She sat down in a small wooden chair in front of him. Im sorry about all this. We werent expecting guests. Still, we cant be too careful. You Aurors can be a tricky lot. Your name is Silas Hornsby, isnt it? Samantha crossed her legs and sat back in the chair, trying to affect an air of calm, which was completely counter played by the tense pacing of Anna behind her. Silas cleared his throat. Yes, but you would know that Im an Auror and what my name is by my shield. What of it? Why were you following Bonnie into that alley? Samantha was getting tense. Whether it was the cat-like prowling of the sociopath behind her or the relative calm which the Auror acted in, she could not be sure. Silas looked at her squarely. Bonnie? Whos Bonnie? The woman you were following Samanthas mouth clamped shut and Silas smiled to himself. They had not known the womans name. Silas decided to be aggressive. Truth be told, we were looking for someone who would purchase illegal dragons eggs. I have no idea who you people are, but youre just making things worse for yourselves by holding me. See! A threat! Thats so typical of a man. Annas voice was derisive, scornful. She toyed with the tip of her wand and absently played with the spot her ear used be. Samantha ignored Annas outburst and focused on the large man in front of her. What if I were to say that I was the one who wanted those eggs? Silas made a motion, as if shrugging, even though the ropes would not allow the full motion to happen. Then Id say youre under arrest for the purchase and receipt of magical items banned under the Treaty of Budapest of 1245. Id be more than happy to take your surrender now, if you like. Anna rushed forward and drove Silas bound body back onto the ground. She plac ed the tip of wand under his chin and closed her face into his. Why dont I just say the word and blow your head away, Auror man. Youre so glib, so superior. You think you scare me? Ill make sure you fear me. Ill make sure all men fear me.

Anna, back away. Samanthas voice was calm, and low the first time. She easily slipped her wand into her hand and silently aimed it at the woman. I said, back away, Anna. Right now. Anna turned around and spied the wand pointed at her. She gave Silas a swat on the forehead and walked backward. Samantha watched as Anna walked out the door and up the stairs. They were in a basement of some sort, Silas thought to himself. There were no windows, and the place felt old. He turned his attention back to the woman. She sighed and turned to face him, standing above him, having not returned him to an upright position after Annas outburst. Im sorry about that. Shes been wronged in her life. Samantha took a deep breath, her free hand fumbling around in her pocket. Im afraid that I wont be surrendering just yet. Ive too much to do right now. In fact, I think the only one wholl be surrendering is you. Shed removed the small vial from her pocket and the flash of silver and gold in the liquid cau ght Silas eye. She withdrew the cork and did something curious. She plucked a small strand of hair and dropped it in the vial. The liquid bubbled and then frothed for a moment. When it subsided, she turned back to Silas. Pretty soon, youre not going to care about anything or anyone but me. Ill be the center of your universe. She began to walk slowly towards Silas. The bound Auror sputtered. Look, youre a pretty lady and everything, but sadistic egomaniacs are definitely not my type. She stopped, a flash of anger crossed her eyes. Then she smiled and froze Silas, his mouth wide open. She poured the bubbling liquid into his mouth and waited. *** Rons team searched the alley for any sign of his missing Auror. He looked at the plastic bag that held the remainder of an ear and the curious ear ring. I know what that is. Betsys voice floated in the alley and Ron turned to her. The ear ring, Ive seen that marking before. What is it? Ron looked down. The ear ring was deep black, seemingly of pure onyx with a curious red hourglass shape carved in it. I collect spiders. The news did not endear Betsy to her team leader, who abhorred spiders. She continued. That is the carapace of a Black Widow Spider. Black Widow? Mortim er had walked up and looked down at the bag. Yes, a black widow. You know, the spider whose females consume their mates after breeding? She looked at Mortimer as if he were dense. I know what a black widow is, but what has it got to do with anything ? How does knowing this get us any closer to finding Silas? Mortimer have Ron a desperate look and the tall red headed man was about to answer when Lachlan walked up behind them. I think I may have a piece of the puzzle. The older man briefed them on their discovery of Kevin Durand. From what we know about the potions that are taken from dragons eggs, Id say we have some very irritated women on our hands. A black widow would make an apt logo.

Ron shook his head. We need to find out the connections here. He turned to his team. Fan out, look for signs of anyone with magic ties living off this alley. There was a reason they came here. I dont think they expected us to follow them. Ron turned to Lachlan. Can you have your team dig into this Durand fellows past? We need to see if he dated any witches in his past life. Lachlan nodded. Finally, Ron turned to Mortimer. I need you to take in all the details of the Durand murder and cross reference it with the effects of the known dragons eggs potions. Id concentrate on the love potions. I want to find Silas, Ron. Mortimer was non-plussed by the assignment. So do I, Mortimer, but what good does it do him if we dont have an antidote or cant fight the effects of whatever theyre giving him? Youre the best researcher I know, so get to it. Ron sighed audibly. We better move fast people, we dont have much time. Whys that Ron? Whats making this so urgent, other than finding Silas, of course. Bryan tried to make up for his gaffe by giving an apologetic look to Mortimer. Ron nodded. The problem is that we didnt tell you that the egg we sold them was a forgery. Theres no telling what the effects of the false egg will have on their potion and what theyll do when they found out its not real. Id say we have less than twelve hours. The teams dispersed to carry out their duties. Chapter 179 The Difference between Basilisks and Dragons Well, I guess this wasnt a simple case of dragons eggs thefts. Harry removed his glasses from the bridge of his nose and rubbed the spot with his fore finger. Let me see if I have this right. Someone, apparently a woman or group of women, buys the dragons eggs in order to create toxic love potions that they use to either kill or control the object of their desire, have I got it? Ron nodded meekly as Harry replaced his glasses and looked around the conference room table. Lachlan, Ron, Sarah, Charlie and Cavendish were in the room discussing the events of the past few days, bringing their leader up to speed. Am I also correct that weve not only lost the forged egg, but one of our Aurors, as well? Harry didnt look at Ron, knowing his friend was bursting with shame and anger at the moment. Instead he looked over at Charlie. All right Charlie, I know youre not supposed to divulge how you and your guild produced the artificial egg except in extreme circumstances, but given that this group has shown a willingness to use a love potion to commit murder, Id think this qualifies as extreme circumstances. What is the forgery made of? Charlie didnt hesitate, the pain his brother was experiencing combined with his desire to help Harry made the dragon tamer very ready to lend a hand. The main shell is made of t he one thing that most closely resembles the dragon egg shell. Everything else, the yolk, the albumen, the shell membrane can be closely approximated by magical means, but the shell itself is the prize and theres really no way to manufacture a facsimile that will pass close scrutiny of someone who knows. Therefore, we use a more benign, less desired substitute for the shell. Lachlans eyes widened, the aged wizard suddenly grew very serious. Merlins beard! You didnt! Immediately, the senior Auror began to leaf through a large tome on potions hed had in front of him, murmuring to himself.

What? What is it? Ron sat forward and joined his team mates in looking at his brother. Charlie swallowed. The closest thing to a dragons egg, without t he same properties, mind you, is a basilisk egg shell. Silence closed over the room as the implications of Charlies statement sunk in. Ron sat bewildered. He knew that the basilisk was a magical creature, the use of the basilisk fang had been enough to shatter one of Voldemorts horcruxes. Still, he was lost as to what this meant in the greater scheme of things. What does this mean? Ron looked around the table and settled his gaze on Harry who was staring at Charlie. Harry, whats the problem? Harry looked at Ron. Ron, you really should have paid attention in Potions. Dont tell me the Half Blood Prince answered all of this for you. Ron grumbled. Just tell me what were talking about. Lachlan? Harry pointed to the older wizard whod stopped flipping through pages and was fixated on a passage in his large book. Well, based on the analysis of the body we found, we know that the potion in use was one developed by Lucrezia Borgia. Its hard to say whether it actually caused someon e to love or whether it was an advanced form of coercion. That being said, the core of the potion relied on the magical and physical make up of the dragons egg to give it the warmer, less intimidating sensation of devotion. Like dragons, the potion is deadly, when the affected person diverts from the gaze of the intended. Kevin Durand was killed because he was married with a child. His natural and long standing love for his family was more than enough to overcome the hold the potion had on him. Lachlan paused as he scanned another passage. Loves power over the magic of coercion. Harry murmured, the lessons of Dumbledore spinning in his head. Precisely! Lachlan cleared his throat. A basilisk is an entirely different beast. Only dark magic can produce one, so its purpose is more deadly, more evil. Used in this potion, the affected person becomes mad with rage and prone to extreme violence. Their bite becomes toxic, although it doesnt say whether the poison is fatal. Their skin becomes near invulnerable, but they are weak at their eyes and mouth. Ron pursed his lips together. How do we stop them? Im assuming the same way you kill a basilisk. Basic stunning spells are ineffective, but the crow of a rooster will do. Also, hitting their weak points will stop them. Lachlan hesitated and Rons head snapped forward. That will kill the person, wont it? Ron watched as Lachlan nodded his head. Is there an antidote? What if these people give the potion to Silas? How do we save him ? Lachlan shrugged his shoulders, unable to look Ron in the eye. Theres only one antidote to a basilisk bite that I know of. Harrys voice reached across the room. Absently, he rubbed a spot on his arm and looked up. Phoenix tears. When I was bi t by a basilisk, I was saved by Fawkes tears. Lachlan sat back and stroked his beard. After a moment, he nodded. That makes sense. If we can get the person to ingest phoenix tears, the basilisk poison contained in the potion will be taken out. That might work.

Cavendish, whod been sitting quietly, turned to Charlie, her brilliant amber eyes boring into him with an anger rarely seen. How did you get your hands on basilisk eggs, Charlie? Theyre illegal to breed and even dark wizards wont violate that ban because only a parseltongue can control one. Charlie sighed. Youre right. There have been cases, though, where we are called in to dispose of basilisks and their lairs. Like the one in Chamber of Secrets, Harry. We keep the residue of the eggs in order to create the forgeries. The Aurors in the room offered looks of dismay. Listen, stealing dragons eggs is rare, but it happens, and usually to get and keep a dragon, not for potion making. The whole idea is to have a way to protect t he dragons, thats it. I had no idea that someone would want to murder a dragon for the egg. Its all right, Charlie. Harry stopped the direction the conversation was going. I understand. The issue here is twofold. Who are these people and what do they want? The door opened and Williamson slid in. Harry, Ive been checking around, there are four men missing as of last night. Did they know each other? Harry asked. No, and the last time any of them had been seen, they were talking to women at a bar, including one whos description matches the woman Rons team tailed the last night. Williamson found a chair and sat down. Harry nodded and looked back at Lachlan. What do we have about the dead man, Kevin Durand? Stable, family man. Hes been married to a muggle for almost ten years. We asked around his friends, there was one woman he dated right out of Hogwarts who raised our interest. Lachlan halted and consulted a piece of parchment. Her name is Anna Reynolds. What interests you about her? Ron spoke up. Well, people we talked to described her as a loner, she rarely dated. She was extremely paranoid and possessive and didnt take Mr. Durands rejection. Apparently she stalked him for a couple of months after the relationship ended. Lachlan flipped the parchment over. Mind you, she disappeared after that. We finally found where her apartment was. Shes gone. She works in a bestiary shop in Vendira Avenue. She hasnt been back to work in almost ten days. Harry nodded and turned to Sarah. What about the alley where Silas disappeared? There is a witch who lived on that alley. Her name is Samantha Wilkes. We know she was a witch because her name is in the Hogwarts register. Thats it. We searched the home, and it looks like she left in a hurry, even leaving her cats behind, but we dont have anything else. Were digging into it. Harry nodded and turned to the team. All right then. We have to assume that this is a group, for purposes unknown, is seeking to control men through this potion. They have a basilisk shell egg that would raise the stakes considerably. We have some line on these people which we can follow up on. Did I miss anything? Cavendish and Sarah had their heads together and were snickering. A hard glare from Harry brought them to the present and Sarah gave an apologetic look. Harry, sometimes you guys can be such, well, guys.

Ron gave a blank stare. What do you mean? Sarah nodded at Cavendish and the pretty Auror smiled. We have an idea of what they are doing. She sighed as the uncomprehending glances were shared around the table. Theyre looking for men to love them. What makes you say that? These potions are about controlling someone. Lachlan pointed a finger at his potions book. It is about control, Lachlan, but not of the men in particular, but of their own lives. Look at this Anna Reynolds. She was paranoid, desperate and she clung to this Durand fellow for a while and when she had the means, she tried to induce him to love her, or die. Samantha Wilkes is obscure, lives alone. I bet she has a lonely job like a clerk or a book keeper, something like that. These are lonely women who probably have an atrocious record with men. They are now empowered to change that. Cavendish looked around at the incredulous looks that gazed back at her. She continued. Id suggest that we also look for women who have disappeared for the last week or so. Ask around, look for ones that have been unlucky with dating. I b et we find a connection. It makes sense to me. Lets go with that. Harry adjourned the meeting, but Ron remained seated. What is it, Ron? Ten years, Harry. This Reynolds woman came back after ten years, that doesnt make any sense. Ron held his arms up. Sarah laughed and patted Ron on the head. Poor Ron, you mean to tell me that Hermione still doesnt bring things up you did over ten years ago? Rons eyes widened and his mouth formed into an O. Sarah giggled. Thats right, Ronnykins, women never forget. With that, she walked out, followed by the rest. Ron sat still and then stood up and ran into the main office area. Ronnykins? Howd you find out about that? Sarah turned and gave him her most serious face. Easy, not only do women never forget, they always share information as well, Won-won. She winked and walked to her desk, leaving him standing there with his mouth hanging open. *** His mind was a fog, a heavy mist of confusion and disorientation. He tried to steady himself, but found the effort taxing. He remained still. In the cloud, he saw a bright light, small, in the distance. He focused on the light and a pronounced clarity began to wipe away the fog that surrounded him. The spinning sensation stopped, replaced by a gentle warmth that began in his chest and radiated throughout his entire body. It seemed to emanate from the light that was approaching him. The swaying stopped and he stared further into the light. There was a figure in the center of the light. As it neared, it became the figure of a woman. She was the most beautiful woman hed ever seen. His heart felt like it was going to burst and he smiled when she smiled at him. She seemed to be looking right at him and she was happy to see him.

He walked towards her and finally stood a mere inches from her. He smiled in complete fascination. Where had she been all his life? Her smile sent ripples of electricity down his spine and for a moment, the world ceased to exist. Finally, he mustered the words he was searching for, although they were completely inadequate. I love you. Silas opened his arms, hoping for an embrace from his beloved. She walked into his arms and accepted the gesture gracefully. I know. Samantha Wilkes enjoyed the moment and then began to ask questions of her new found love. Chapter 180 Matters of the Heart and Mind The Boston Spa complex of the British Library was built on the site of an old munitions factory, used by the British Government in the 1800s to manufacture ammunition for their rifles as the Empire expanded. It closed down soon after the end of World War Two and its various buildings were torn down or refurbished for use in the campus of the existing library. The munitions factory itself went through various periods of expansion and building, often on top of the existing structures, creating a labyrinth of tunnels, cellars and catacombs that were often forgotten by the subsequent occupants of the newer, more open buildings. Samantha Wilkes had often spent her lonely, off work hours scouring the ancient plans and finding openings to the underground maze of rooms and caverns and used that knowledge to find more permanent quarters for the Society of the Black Widow. Tonight, they were meeting in of those rooms to discuss the events of the past few days. They were in one of the smaller rooms that Samantha had found, twelve women sitting in dusty, wooden chairs that had been left behind. Seated along the back wall were five men, including Silas, who seemed to have faraway looks in their eyes, but every once in a while, would achieve great focus when the object of their desire would either speak, or even move. Silas seemed content, his posture relaxed while his large, muscular arms were crossed in front of him. He considered himself lucky, as the woman he loved was at the forefront of the discussion, within sight and speaking. He had no earthly idea about what was being discussed, but that didnt matter. As soon as the meeting ended, hed have more time with Samantha, who seemed to be looking right at him. He tried to focus on what was being said, but it really didnt matter as the minutes ticked by. Samantha stood at the front of the room, laying out what had happened. Anna Reynolds seemed prowl near the door, pacing back and forth, yet trying to remain invisible. The tenor of the current discussion was clearly agitating the tortured woman while the remainder of the Society took in the implications of what Samantha was discussing. So, basically, thats where we are. Our interest in dragons eggs has brought the Ministry into this. Samantha held up her hands. Our source to the Romanian pipeline is compromised. Billie Tunstall seems to be fully involved with the Dragon Tamer, Charlie Weasley, so I dont see us being able to utilize that avenue. Anyone have any thoughts? Let me handle this Charlie Weasley character. Hell come around to our way of thinking and having a direct source to the dragon eggs wouldnt hurt. Annas voice was becomin g raspier and unconsciously, she tugged at the missing earlobe. Samantha struggled to control her reaction. Anna was becoming more and more unraveled as events passed. I told you Anna, in addition to being a Dragon Tamer, Charlie Weasley is also the brother of the man whose team is trying track us and brother in law to the head of the Aurors. Any move on him would bring down more scrutiny, not less.

A woman raised her hand, and Samantha was grateful for the interruption, if only to move things away from the woman pacing in the corner. Yes, Miriam? Arent there other places where we can find dragon eggs? What about China or South America? There was an audible sigh from the back of the room. One of the men seated with Silas was apparently linked to the woman, Miriam, and responded to hearing her voice. I think thats what we have to do. The problem is, I dont know how to tap into those sources. Does anyone have any idea? Samanthas eyes moved around the room. What motivated these women to join was also proving to be their biggest deficiency. They were lonely, almost cast off women, with low self-esteem. That meant that they lived isolated lives, with very little interaction with others, and didnt have the world experience that would h elp direct them. They were talking about things that hovered on the fringes of legality, which werent things written in books, so finding access to these sources was becoming increasingly difficult. She took a brief look back at where Silas sat. Over the past few hours, she found herself becoming attracted to the tall, noble Auror. In the back of her mind, she knew that he was under the influence of the potion, and yet, his reactions seemed so real. He was so willing to cooperate, to share out of the sheer joy of making her happy. It was getting to the point where she could almost read him. Right now, he had a very thoughtful expression on his face. She decided to take a chance. Silas? Do you have an idea about what we can do? Her voice snappe d him back to reality and he sat up taller and nodded his head. Well, Samantha, and might I say, you look stunning today, my love. She felt her neck flush, and then nodded, trying to keep him on point. I was just thinking, as an Auror, weve had many dealings with the darker side of the legal line. Theres any number of black marketers and smugglers out there who may be able to help you, but it will be difficult. Go on, Silas. If you had to find something thats hard to get, where would you start? All the heads turned back to him and he shifted uncomfortably at the attention. Well, the first place Id start, and only start, mind you, because I dont think hes deals with type of thing directly, but he knows who would, is Draco Malfoy. His wife is the Secretary General of the International Confederation of Wizards and he runs his fathers vast trading company. Lucius Malfoy had his hands in all types of dealings and were sure Draco kept them up. It would be good business. If anything, Draco has all kinds of contacts in Xanadu, both through his wife and otherwise, so maybe he can get you to someone who can help. It had been the most Silas had talked in her dealings with him, which had nothing to do with his doting on her. She found it incredibly attractive, how professional and knowledgeable he was and how he spoke without looking down on her. Her pulse raced, but she managed to work herself back to the meeting at hand. Thats an excellent suggestion. Thank you, Silas. His face beame d at the recognition. Samantha turned back to the meeting. Were going to have to find away to do this without the potion. Were limited in what we have and hes married. I think we want to keep as low a profile as possible. How much of the potion do we have left? Bonnies voice rang out in the room. She held up her hand, her vial still had its stopper and was still full. I havent found an opportunity to use mine. Samantha nodded. We have the five men in the back, so we know its been us ed by five of us. Does anyone, like Bonnie, still have their potions? She watched as five more hands held up full vials, in addition to Bonnie. Samantha felt a coldness hit the back of her neck. She turned around to face Anna, whod stopped pacing. Anna? Do you still have your vial?

Annas mouth was contorted into the faade of a grin. Slowly, the tall woman shook her head. I used it. She crossed her arms, her black eyes dancing in merriment. On who? Bonnie looked at Anna with increasing understanding and shock. Oh, it was an old boyfriend of mine. Silence fell across the room and Anna drank in the power of attention she held over them. Apparently, hed gotten over me over the past ten years. Hed found time to get married and have a child. The potion didnt agree with him. She looked around the room as she spoke. You have no idea how spectacular it is to die from a broken heart. Samantha recovered first and stared at Anna, fixing her gaze on the womans cold stare. It was like looking into an abyss, which the rest of them were about to fall into. We agreed, Anna, no married men. You knew what would happen. Yes, I did know and he deserved it. For a moment, Anna seemed timid, vulnerable. He hurt me and I didnt know what came over me. She looked like she was going to break down, but then, her eyes glazed over and her feral smile came back. But then I saw the power I had over him, I suddenly realized I didnt need him anymore and well, the potion took care of the rest. She laughed and stepped out of the room, her cackling echoing down the rocky corridors. Bonnie sat dumbstruck at what had happened. Finally, she looked up at Samantha. Were going to have to do something about her, soon. Shes lost her mind. I didnt get into this to commit murder. Samantha turned around. Look, shes just a lot more broken than we are. We can control her. Besides, with everything thats happening and the people we have to deal with, she may be helpful. I cant imagine what could happen where we need her help, with anything. Bonnie jaw was set in place, but her insides were churning. Samantha sighed. Look, if anyone wants to get out now, leave. Make up you minds. Her eyes went to the four women who had actually implemented the potion, their men sitting behind them, oblivious. If you dont want to go further, just go. If you have someone here, well hang on to them until their potion wears off and then let them go, but you have to decide now. Like Samantha, the women had grown attached to the affection being given to them by the men. None of the four budged. The other five had seen how wonderful it could be with the men in tow and wanted that feeling for themselves. No one moved. That left Bonnie to wrestle with her conscience. She looked around the room and allowed her eyes to rest on Silas. Bonnie swallowed and made up her mind. She turned to Samantha and nodded her head, but remained in her seat. Good. Now, weve got a lot of ground to cover and not a whole lot of time. Ive got the one egg left, and it will take some time to mix the next batch. We need a new source, so our first order of business is find out everything we can about this Draco Malfoy and see if we can get the information we need from him. *** The lift had an out of order sign and from the looks of it, the device had probably never worked in the entire century that the broken down building had been around. The staircase spiraled upward, the steps dusty from the grime and filth of decades of neglect. The apartment they sought was at the top of the sixth landing and the three figures trudged up the untidy stairs, carefully stepping over the flotsam that had accumulated. Ron eyed the two members of his

team as a rat bounded in front of him in furious blur of motion. Sarah stopped her momentum while Bryan shook his head and trudged onward. Are you sure this is the right place? Bryan took care to avoid touching the rusted, loose railing and eyed the faded sign marking the sixth floor. Ron consulted the crumpled piece of paper and nodded. It should be at the end of the hall. Bryan nodded and led them down a darkened hallway, where the passage lights seemed to flicker on and off, those that still worked, that is. The walls were a dingy gray and brown, their first coat of paint having been their only coat, it would appear. Those selfsame walls seemed to be paper thin, as shouts of arguments and fighting permeated the hallway, carrying to their ears the sounds of poverty and despair. I thought Williamson and his team already checked this place out. Bryan ducked low to avoid a cobweb that was secured snugly across the passageway. Ron nodded. They only verified that she wasnt here. We need to look closer. At the time, we hadnt connected this Reynolds woman to the entire conspiracy. Bryan nodded and came to a faded, light blue door with the outline of the number 620 on it, its brass numerals having fallen off many years ago. Ron gave a wave and Bryan allowed his wand to slide out of the sleeve of his coat and into his hand. With a whispered word, the door opened and the three Aurors walked into flat. The rooms dcor matched the hallway. The walls were marked by cracks and faded and chipped paint. Ron reached for the light switch on a nearby wall and was rewarded with only a third of the lighting working in the place. They entered into a long hallway with coat closet on the side, its door off its slider. A quick look inside the closet showed it empty save for some overshoes and two worn and dated coats. The three walked down the hallway and into a small living area. Off to one side was another hallway, obviously leading to some other rooms and on the other side was a small dining area and kitchenette. Ron gestured to the pair. Sarah walked into the living area and began rooting around the end tables and furniture. Bryan walked into the kitchen and began nosing through the drawers. The furniture told the story of a lonely person. Everything was second or third or even fourth hand, but kept neat and tidy, as if time spent in the place was spent cleaning. Ron watched the other two for a minute and then began walking down the back hall. On first pass, there were no personal items, no pictures of family and friends, no collectibles from trips, nothing that said anything about the occupant of the flat, save for the message of loneliness. He continued down the hall. There were four doors. He looked into the first and spied a room used as a combination of office and storage area. It was obviously a second bedroom, but there was no bed, as the person who lived here probably had little need for a space for overnight guests. Theres an office here. One of you can check it out. Im heading for the other bedroom. Ron yelled back to the front room. Im almost done here, Ill get on it. Bryans voice came back to him and Ron continued down the hall. The second door was smaller, and when he opened it, Ron found a small linen closet that was bare for the most part save for one extra set of sheets and one full set of towels. He shut the door and looked in the third room which was the flats only bathroom. The tile work was dated, but the room was clean and meticulous. Beneath the pedestal sink was a small rack with a fresh set of towels. The linen hanging in the bathroom wasnt particularly decorative nor did it make any type of statement. It was functional. Ron continued on to the last door, which was the bedroom.

He walked inside. The furniture was mismatched, a dented, gouged dark wooden dresser and a full sized bed with no head board. Even the end tables did not match, seemingly picked up at different times, keeping with the ad hoc nature of the place. Ron looked around. The room was functional, utilitarian. Everything seemed to have a place and a use. There were no heirlooms or other items of sentimentality. For a womans apartment, there wasnt anything uniquely feminine about the place. It was sterile. He poked around the room. Most of the drawers were either empty or contained plain clothing, nothing that made a statement or revealed anything about the character of the woman. Anna Reynolds led a pathetic, boring life. She worked in Vendira Avenue, but there were no records, no mementos, no photos of her coworkers. Ron heard steps and saw Bryan framed in the doorway. Nothing in there, boss. The boxes have old dishes and other stuff. Its like one big junk collection, probably related to her job. Ron nodded. Something was nagg ing at him. How could anyone be so anonymous? He turned and walked past Bryan, almost bumping into Sarah. He took a quick look inside the bathroom and them and walked to the narrow linen closet. The person who lived here was compulsive about tidiness, despite the relative squalor of the environment. Everything had to be in its place, yet shed cluttered up her bathroom with a place to store towels when she had an almost empty linen closet close at hand. He opened the closet door and noticed that the linens and the towels were stored on the top shelf, everything else was empty, bare. He reached back and tapped on the drywall at the back of the closet and was rewarded with a hollow, echoing sound. Ron inspected the closet carefully and saw a hook on the sidewall, decidedly out of place, given the metal shelving that ran from side to side. He grasped the hook and it pivoted downward, as if on a hinge. The back of the closet swung inward, revealing a small, narrow passage, hidden from view. Ron pulled out his wand. Lumos! Holding the light before him, he walked into the passage, which went between the walls of the two bedrooms. Sarah and Bryan followed close behind. The passage went for a few minutes and then turned sharply and opened into a small room. There was a small light switch on the bare, framed walls and Ron tapped it. A single, bare light bulb swayed from a wire on the ceiling, flickered on and revealed the character of Anna Reynolds. The walls were covered with pictures and photographs. One whole wall was entirely devoted to the late Kevin Durand. The path of his life seemed to be told by the pictures. There was a picture of him and Anna together, in happier times, but the trail continued. There were secretly taken photos of Durands wedding and stills of him walking down the street. There wasnt a distinct timeline, but ten years of stalking seemed to be told on this wall. The last picture was that of Durand carrying a grocery sack. This one had a bright red X through it. Durand was wearing the clothes hed been found in. Ron whistled and looked around at the other walls, all detailing men through various stages of life. Altogether, Anna Reynolds seemed to keep tabs on ten different men and Kevin Durand wasnt the only one with an X through his last picture. Weve got to find out who these men are. Sarah whispered. Ron nodded, but his eyes were drawn to a small, roll top desk that was in the center of the room. He opened the desk and found more pictures splayed about, the very antithesis of the person who kept the tidy apartment. In the center of the desk was a hard-bound journal. Ron opened the book and flipped through the pages. The handwriting drifted from neat to frantic to wild to neat. He stopped at one of the later entries and found references to a Society of the Black Widow. He continued to flip towards the last few entries and the scrawl was becoming increasingly manic and fractured. Wed better get this back to the office. Ron paused as the last entry in the book. What is it? Sarah asked.

Ron turned the journal around and showed it to them. On the page was the word Aurors written large, unformed block letters. The word had been blocked out by a large X which seemed to have been written with blood. Weve got to find these people or well never see Silas again. Ron gulped and dashed out the door, the book tucked under his arm. Chapter 181 Unraveling the Thread The war had been good to Draco Malfoy. Professionally, hed mana ged to become the largest blockade runner in Britain, his ships making heroic dashes to port bringing much needed imports to the beleaguered Isles while maintaining a relative anonymity with the world body that allowed him to keep up his formal relationships abroad. His reputation had only been enhanced when his wife, Domina, had been appointed to head the International Confederation of Wizards, at the request of her nominal political rival, Arthur Weasley, the Minister of Magic. Domina experienced a sea change in her attitude and policies, taking care to ensure that the strategic policies of the Ministry and the Wizengamot were carried out efficiently, but opposing items that were anathema to her own principles. The fiasco with the goblins had given her a certain amount of clout and she tempered the more radical policies put forward by Weasley and his daughter-in-law, Hermione, who ran the policy section of the Ministry. Personally, Dracos relationship with Domina was in a place hed only dreamt about . Domina had experienced things during the war that that had changed her in ways hed never thought possible. It had drawn them together and for the first time in their relationship, the love was shared, more equitable. She had always been a forceful woman, and their marriage had long been more of a political match for her than anything driven by sentiment. That had all changed and now, Draco, more than ever, found himself missing his wife and, in truth, hed rather spend time in his office in Xanadu, the seat of the International Confederation, then where he was in Plymouth, attending to the mundane details of overseeing a vast, international shipping enterprise. Hed been forced to expand his office. Instead of the small, cramped office, hed built a larger facility, home to scores of workers engaged in tracking deliveries and shipments and ship schedules. His own schedule had become frantic, so Domina had insisted that he take on a private secretary to keep him on task. His wife had personally selected the woman. On the surface, Sylvia Williams fit the standard stereotype of a business tycoons secretary. She was stunningly beautiful, with long, rich brown hair and light brown eyes. Her skin had an olive complexion, speaking of Mediterranean roots. She dressed professionally, with her hair up and in business suits, but the skirts were always borderline provocative and the fabric rich in detail and snug against her wonderful figure. Any adherence to stereotype stopped there, because Sylvia Williams was a ruthless taskmaster, proudly efficient in her job and utterly impossible to get past if Dracos schedule did not permit it. Draco thought it had been much easier to get into the Chamber of Secrets than it was to get past Sylvia to see him. That was why when she ducked her head into his office, he was surprised that she seemed a little flustered. His eyes glanced quickly glanced at the single sheet of parchment that held his schedule. She usually handed it to him at the beginning of the day and kept to it with religious zeal. This time had been allotted to the task he was doing, which was reviewing the quarterly profit and loss reports. He looked back up and raised a curious eye brow. Im sorry to disturb you, Mr. Malfoy. Her voice held a slight trace of an accent, French maybe, or Italian. Draco couldnt tell. Theres someone here to see you from the Office of Aurors.

Aurors? What the blazes does Potter want now? Im not his personal errand boy. Is it Potter or his lapdog, Weasley? Draco sighed heavily, but was secretly grateful to tear away his attention from the lines of financial data cluttering his desk. Actually, the name on the shield said Hornsby. Draco reached back in his mind. He usually had a very good memory for names and faces and he seemed to recall an Auror by that name, but couldnt actually place the face. Grudgingly, he nodded for Sylvia to show this Hornsby in. Within moments, three women walked into his office, one them carefully shutting the door behind them. At first glance, Draco noted that none of the women were remarkable in any way, except for the tall one with the noticeable missing ear lobe. He sat back in his chair and waved to the seats in front of his desk. Two of the women took the offer to sit, while the tall one sulked in the back corner, by the door. Draco smiled. Youre not Hornsby. As I recall, the Auror named Hornsby is a man. In fact, I dont recognize any of you. He absently tapped on the arm rest of his chair and pulled ou t a pocket watch. You have exactly thirty seconds to tell me why youre here before I throw you out on the street. Im looking forward to you trying. The woman in the corner sneered and Draco calmly assessed her intent and capability. Before he could speak, one of the seated women, obviously the leader spoke up. Be quiet, Anna. She turned to face Draco. Youre right, Mr. Malfoy. We are not Aurors. Silas Hornsby is, She hesitated and Draco noticed the back of neck flush slightly. My boyfri end. No, were here because wed like to discuss a business proposal with you. Draco grunted. You have twenty seconds. Samantha looked back at Anna, who was standing on the balls of her feet. You see, I have it good authority that you have contacts that will help us procure certain items that are extremely hard to get. Draco pulled his stare from the menacing woman in the corner of the room. What, pray tell, might this hard to find item be? We want to buy dragons eggs. Samantha put it out there, both to forestall a confrontation from Annas side and to meet Malfoys deadline for getting to the point. There was silence in the room and then Draco burst into laughter. I see. Is that it? Do you want me to find you some pixie dust? How about the ruby slippers from the Wicked Witch of the West? I hear theyre pretty easy to get a hold of. Samantha was taken aback by the contempt she was hearing. Something inside of her turned cold. Normally, shed be looking back at Anna, trying to rein her in, but right now, she wasnt so inclined to do so. Instead, she lowered her voice. Wed be willing to pay, Mr. Malfoy. Were not unreasonable. We know youre a businessman. Whats your price? Samantha felt Bonnie grasp her arm, trying to calm her down. Draco stopped laughing and contemplated Samantha with one, rapidly dismissive gaze. Youre right, I am a businessman, and a good one, too. You ladies dont look like you could afford my price. Not the way youre dressed and not in the clumsy way youre making this pitch. I see nothing about you that would make me want to risk my legitimate business interests. Draco stood from his chair. Now, get out.

Anna stepped forward and raised her wand. Ill teach you some manners, little man. Draco barely flinched. Instead, he slapped his hand down on his desk and four panels on the walls opened revealing four rather violent looking men who stepped out with their wands raised, aimed at the women. Draco sneered at Samantha, his gaze sending a shudder of revulsion down her spine. You were right about one thing, I do have the means and the contacts with the world that you wish to do business with. That has taught me one very simple lesson. Always be ready for meetings like this. You see, my very able assistant was very troubled by your presence, so she took the proper precautions. Draco stepped around the desk and sat on the edge. If you three werent such rank amateurs, I might have taken you up on your offer, but I dont do business with amateurs. Its bad for the bottom line. Anna seethed. Youre on my list, Malfoy. You dont get to treat me like this. Youll regret this moment. Dracos voice dropped to a deadpan, even tone. Maam, Ive been threatened by the Dark Lord himself. Theres nothing about you that Im even remotely afraid of. Draco stood and walked over to Anna and purposefully stood on the side of her head that had the good ear. I want to make sure you hear me. If any of you shows your face around any of my businesses or my people, I will make you disappear. I wont make you suffer or get pay back, or even give you a warning. You will simply cease to exist and from the looks of you, no one will ever miss you. Now get out. With that, Draco Malfoy sat down at his desk and returned to work. The women left under the escort of the men in the room. Once theyd gone, Sylvia walked back in. Im sorry, Mr. Malfoy. The shield looked real enough. She placed a small tea service on the edge of the desk and poured Draco a cup. Thats all right, Sylvia. I think the shield was real enough. He pulled out a fresh sheet of parchment and scribbled a note on it. Would you owl this for me? I think I need to have a conversation with an old friend. *** The brain trust that constituted the leadership of the Aurors gathered around the conference room table to review Anna Reynolds journal. Lachlan, Ron, Cavendish, and Williamson joined Harry in going through the book. At the end of the table was an old man. The man was dressed in a light gray, three piece suit and had a pair of silver framed spectacles perched on his hawkish nose. His hair was entirely gray and trimmed short and he had a matching goatee on his chin that framed the small pipe that dangled from his lips. A foul smelling cloud of smoke hovered over his head which nodded periodically as Ron red passages from the journal. This woman is definitely a work of art. She names the people shes had some sort of affiliation with. One man delivered her parcels to the shop she worked at, so she tabbed him as reliable and so he became her boyfriend. Ron flipped forward. What we have is some sort of society of women who were wronged in some way by men. The leader seems to be this Samantha Wilkes woman. Thats the witch who had the flat near the alley where Silas was taken. Williamson chimed in. Shes a librarian over at the British Library. Harry sat and reflected on the interchange. He looked over at the man who hed invited to the meeting. Healer Adkins? Do you have any thing to add?

The man sat forward and grunted, taking a bit of time to collect his thoughts together. Franklin Adkins was one of the more tenured healers at St. Mungos, the hospital for magic kind. He was Frank and Alice Longbottoms chief healer and specialized in afflictions of the mind. His appearance and mannerisms were attributable to his long time infatuation with Sigmund Freud, who had been his mentor upon his graduation from Hogwarts. Healer Adkins held out his hands to accept the journal from Ron. At first blush, Harry, this woman is as crazy as a loony bird. Adkins spoke in a quiet whisper which made everyone strain to listen. Is that your professional opinion? Despite himself, Harry couldnt repres s a grin. Well, notice the violent changes in her handwriting and Id say expressing a desire to murder every man she meets would qualify as an indication that supports my diagnosis. Adkins carefully removed his glasses and wiped them with a handkerchief. Well, thats helpful. What about the rest of this group she talks about? What about this Society of the Black Widow? Ron retrieved the book and leafed through the pages. Its difficult to understand and assess the mental state of these other women since our window to who they are come from the point of view of an obviously psychotic and sociopathic woman. Be that as it may, its a classic case of rebellion against the norm. These are women who have never been in control of their own lives and now have a support structure of like minded women and a means to gain control over their most vulnerable weaknesses, their relationships with men. Adkins sat back and studied the group. Harry brought them back to Anna Reynolds. What about this woman? What about this Anna Reynolds? I wont lie to you, Harry. I havent seen such a violent streak of pure pathological hatred since, well, since the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters. Believe me, I know what pure hatred can do. Adkins sighed and Harry nodded. Frank and Alice Longbottom had been pushed over the edge of sanity by the pain theyd been forced to experience. In many ways, those whose loved ones had died during the Voldemort years were far luckier than Neville. His parents were alive, but would never return to who they were. Listen to this. Ron had been going back through the book. He selected a passage. Samantha had a good idea, but I think shes too weak to see it all the way through. Her weakness is that she craves the attention. She wants to be loved. Im going to use this potion for its real power, to get back at those that wronged us. I doubt Samantha and the rest will like my solution. It may come to pass that I will have to deal with them as it happens. After all, Im the only one with the real vision Harry nodded soberly. I doubt this Samantha has any idea of the tiger she has by the tail. They seem to be making this up as they go. Theyre amateurs which makes them dangerous, in our line of work. Why do you say that, Harry? Usually, its the professionals that can be deadly. Ron closed the book and looked at his friend. The problem, Ron, is that amateurs are unpredictable. Weve been closing off their pipeline to manufacture their potion. Who knows when theyll panic? Harry looked over at the door. Above each door in the Ministry, there was a small, rectangular flap of plastic. They were mounted on hinges and swung freely. These were installed to allow owls delivering messages the ability to fly through and get their messages through.

The flap above the conference room door squeaked and Helios, Harrys golden owl flitted through and landed on the table near Harry. There was a small, folded piece of parchment on his leg and Harry tugged at it, pulling it free. Unfolding the parchment, he noticed a second message wrapped inside. He looked at the outer wrapper. Harry, This came for you via owl at the home. It looked important, so I sent it along to you. When do you think youll be home? James is in the corner. He was trying to convince Albus that your car was magical and that it would be all right with daddy to take it for a spin. Lily is doing well, but she still has that cough going, so Im thinking about running her over to St. Mungos. Well, Ive got to go, James has disappeared from his corner and theres a loud noise coming from the barn, which cant be a good sign. I love you. Ginny Harry chuckled to himself and then turned his attention to the second message. He opened it and checked its contents. His eyes widened and then he looked up. Ron, get your team together and get Dennis. I need one of his hit teams. Healer Adkins? The wizened old man looked up. I need to impose on you and ask for your supply of Phoenix tears extract. Ron stood up. What is it, Harry? Have you got a lead? You might say that and its from a most unusual source. Chapter 182 A Most Unusual Source Silas felt light headed and beads of perspiration began to run down his forehead. The focused light in his eyes began to falter and he looked around in puzzled amazement as looked at the other four men sitting beside him in the Societys meeting room. Samantha saw his look of confusion and walked back to where he sat. Are you all right? She studied his eyes and saw how opaque they were becoming. The first dose was starting to wear off. Shed just completed the next batch of potion with the last egg, but it was back in the room she was staying in. Fortunately, she still had the last dose of the original batch in her pocket and she drew it out. He seemed unsteady on his feet. He looked at her and there was a pang of recognition followed by a tinge of doubt. Why was he here? She held out the small vial of potion to him. Take this. Youre looking a little under the weather. This will help, Silas. Unconsciously, he took the vial and ripped off the stopper. He looked at her hesitantly and she nodded and he took it down. After a few minutes, the swaying stopped and he seemed more himself. He shook his head and then sat down, feeling better. Samantha released a deep breath and then gestured to the four women whod managed to corral the men seated with Silas.

It looks like the first doses are wearing off. Im going to get the new batch and give it to you. Youd better give them their doses now. I dont know when their original doses will wear off. They nodded and Samantha exited the room to retrieve the potions. *** They couldnt enter the Boston Spa complex of the Britis h Library all together. A full team of Aurors and a Hit Squad team would bring too much attention. Harry had them apparate to an abandoned warehouse complex and then sent them in twos and threes into the main entrance. He waited with Ron and Dennis as their people entered the building. Soon, the three of them approached the main entrance and passed through the elaborate security apparatus at the entrance. They walked up to the main information desk and greeted the old matron seated there. Can you tell me how to get to the North Reading Room? Harry gave his best smile and waited for the old woman to respond. Thats a pretty popular destination today. Youre not going to have some sort of club meeting there, are you? That has to be cleared by the director. She stared at the three suspiciously. Over the course of the past half hour, almost a dozen people had asked for directions to the rather infrequently used North Reading Room. Of course not, Mrs. Oxley, Harry responded, reading her name fr om the carefully etched brass nametag on the lapel of her tartan jacket. Ive heard that there are some very good paintings hanging there by OConnell and I wanted to take a look. I have no idea who else may be going there. I assume his work is very well known. He was taking a chance, as far as he knew, there was no artist named OConnell and whether any paintings actually hung in the room, he had no idea, and he was banking on the idea that this volunteer gatekeeper had no idea either. She shrugged her shoulders. I dont know anything about that, we have paintings hanging all over this place. She sighed and handed him a small, photocopied map of the grounds. Quickly, she went through how to get to their destination. After a quick thanks, Harry led Dennis and Ron down the corridor. *** Samantha reentered the meeting room, where the Society was sitting about, talking amongst themselves. Quickly, she handed four vials of potion to four of the women, who headed to the back of the room, where the men sat. She watched them walk back, but her attention was quickly drawn to the heated conversation that was occurring in one corner of the room. Youd best back down, little woman. Theres no more potion and no way to get the eggs. Were going to have to do this more directly. Im willing to take matters into my own hands, if necessary. Annas voice was shrill and her face had reddened. The object of her ire, Bonnie, took a step back at Annas statement. Youre talking about murder, Anna. You were never in this to heal yourself. Youve always been about revenge, havent you? Samantha had to give the petite woman some credit. Bonnie had always stood strong on principle and it took a good deal of courage to cross Anna. Samantha could feel the time drawing near where shed have to address how to deal with Anna. So what? What do you know, you pathetic excuse of a woman? Youre always pining about the one that did you wrong, about the men who didnt see you for what you are. Why would they? What man would want some whiny wretch that didnt stand up for herself, anyway? Youre all pathetic. A small stream of spittle shot out from her lips, almost reflective of the bile in her tone. Samantha stepped forward. Things were getting out of hand.

Thats enough, Anna. Bonnies right, youre going too far. This was about us healing ourselves, not about getting back at anyone, and certainly not about murder. Have you lost your mind? Samantha walked up to where Anna stood, interposing herself between the crazed woman and Bonnie. You! There was an evil twist to Annas mouth. She pointed her wand at Samantha, resting the tip on her chest. You have no vision! Youre too weak to have power. You have to be willing to make them pay, or theyll keep walking all over you. Carefully, Samantha placed her hand on Annas and pushed the wand to the side. She lowered her voice, trying to reason with her. Anna, no matter what someone has done to you, you cant be like them. If you become what theyve turned you into, then they win. Anna seemed to allow her eyes to fall from Samanthas gaze. Her arm shook and her lips had a slight tremor. For the moment, it seemed as if she was going to break, the weight of her actions, a lifetime of imbalance all seemed to break her down. Then she looked up, the gloom and death of her black eyes sucking all the light from around her. They didnt turn me into anything. If anything, they revealed who I am. If youre not strong enough to do what has to be done, maybe you need to be removed. Anna pushed Samantha down to the ground and pointed her wand, a dead gleam in her eye. Stupefy! A bolt of magic whisked across the room and hit Anna in the side, sending her careening against the wall. Samantha took a breath and looked up. Silas stood there, his wand out. He walked over and extended his arm to her. Are you all right? Did she hurt you? His voice was tender, worried and he kept a wary eye on the unmoving figure piled in a heap nearby. Samantha nodded and allowed him to help her up. Thanks. Im fine, but I think were going to have to remove Anna from the equation. Are you all right with that? Silas nodded. Whatever you think is best, Samantha. Suddenly, screams filled the room. The four men had downed the flawed potions and had begun pummeling the women whod offered it to them. Their eyes were wild with fury and they soon pushed the women down, battered and unconscious. They drew wands and pointed them at the rest of the people in the room, their eyes mad with anger. Soon, bolts of destructive magic began to whip around the room, tossing it into bedlam. *** The catacombs turned out to be a labyrinth of corridors and dead ends. Harry led the teams through. The access from the reading room had been relatively easy, since the room itself was little used and no one was around to see them pivot the statue in the corner, revealing the hidden passage. After following one hall to another dead end, they returned to an intersection and split up the remaining arms between the wizards that were there. Harrys group consisted of Dennis and one of his men, Ron, Mortimer and Sarah. They followed their corridor as it sloped downward into an older portion of maze. Harry raised his arm, stopping their movement. You hear that? He looked at Ron who seemed to be staring at the ceiling, listening for what Harry was hearing. There were muted sounds of fighting, wand blasts and shouts. Ron nodded. Either one of the other teams found them, or the Society is having a debate on policy. Ron snorted.

Harry nodded. Lets go! He led them at a run towards the sounds of the fighting. Their efforts brought them to a set of double doors that framed the entrance to a room. Harry looked around as each of his team pulled their wands. Harry turned towards the door and felt an arm grasp his shoulder. It was like a vice grip, strong and firm and when Harry turned, he knew already that Dennis was pulling him back. Harry, this is our job. Your job is to stay back. Dennis stood there, looking as if he would brook no argument. Harry gave Ron a cross look as his friend snickered at his predicament. Harry slowly nodded, having done the calculations and realizing that Dennis Creevey was basically one large muscle who could snap him in two without a thought. Dennis smiled and looked around at the rest. Ready? They nodded and Dennis faced the door. *** The room was a cloud of smoke and chaos. Some of the women were returning spells against the enraged men, while others were trying to find a place out of the line of fire. Samantha couldnt see much, as Silas had interposed himself between the threat and her and he was trying to fight them off as best as he could. Several of the Society members were laying still across the room while Silas had managed to knock one of the men senseless. The ferocity of the attack was almost too much to handle. Surprised by the thought, Samantha looked around, hoping that Anna had revived and could help. Samantha looked over to the corner where Anna had been, but the woman had disappeared. She was gone. The man that Silas had knocked out was back on his feet and the four men were pressing on the last few standing with an energy born of madness. Soon, only Silas, Bonnie and Samantha were left conscious. Silas turned and faced Samantha, a look of disappointed sadness on his face. Im sorry, my love. I cant hold them off. He turned to face the final blow. The twin doors on the side wall suddenly exploded in a shower of splinters and smoke. Through the haze, Dennis plowed through, followed closely by the rest of the team. The bewitched men turned to face the new threat and growled fiercely as they attacked without pause. Dennis was momentarily stunned by the unexpected assault. He barely threw up his shield to deflect the first blast and had scarcely moved before the ground where hed been blew up. He rolled to the side and sent a fierce blast that sent one of the men flying through the air. Ron followed up with another blast, sending another off his feet. The Aurors spread out in a semi-circle, and took on the immediate threat, the men. They paired up, one person providing a shield, while the other firing at the enraged adversaries. The relentless pounding of the spells soon took their toll and the men were soon knocked out. Harry turned to Sarah. Get out the Phoenix Tears! Sarah nodded and pulled a tiny bottle out of her pocket. It was topped with a rubber top and she carefully uncapped it, revealing an eyedropper. Phoenix tear extract is very hard to acquire and it was kept in very small quantities. Usually, it only took a drop to be effective against a basilisk bite. Sarah filled the dropper and plopped a drop in each of the prone mens mouths. She stood back and looked at Harry. According to what we know, they should be all right. Harry turned and faced the three figures at the end of the room. Before he could speak, Mortimer stepped forward. Silas! Youre all right! Of course Im all right. What are you guys doing here? The bewildered big man looked at the Aurors and the destruction they had wrought.

Were here to rescue you. Mortimers voice was exasperated, trying to convey the gravity of the situation to his friend. Rescue me? Silas looked around the room. From who? From her, Silas. Harry stepped forward and pointed at Samantha, who stood still. She kidnapped you, Silas and she has you under the influence of a love potion, a very strong love potion. Youre lying, Harry! Samantha loves me and I love her. What kind of nonsense is this anyway? Silas voice was halting and eyed Harry as the lead Auror looked at Samantha. Samantha Wilkes, youre under arrest. Weve got to take you in. If you have any information as to the whereabouts of Anna Reynolds, that would be helpful, but you have a lot to answer for. Harry stepped forward, his arm extended. No! Silas stepped forward and sent a spell into Harry, propelling him back into a p ile of furniture. Dennis stepped forward, too close to get off a spell and crashed into Silas, both of their wands flying. They collapsed into a pile of fists and arms, the room thundering as each tried to gain leverage. Silas was in a blind rage, convinced he was protecting the woman he loved, while Dennis was operating under constraints that Silas was not in control of his senses. The men stood and exchanged blows and fought in a whirl of motion. None of the Aurors could get off a shot, with Dennis so close to the action. Finally, Sarah picked up the leg of a broken chair and brought it down hard on the back of Silas head, dazing him enough for Dennis to let fly a tremendous punch with his large fist. His arm rippled as he put everything into the blow, which knocked Silas out. The room drew quiet and Harry turned to face Samantha. The last egg you had wasnt a dragons egg. It was made from a basilisk. Thats why those men acted the way they did, but they wouldnt have been here if you and your people hadnt tried to trick them. Now where is Anna Reynolds? Samantha was beaten, the realization of what shed done echoing in her brain. I dont know. Shes gone. Shes got to be stopped. Harry turned to his team. Weve got to find her. Shes the most dangerous of the bunch. Im right here, you sorry excuse of a man! The voice rang out from beneath a pile of debris. The pile shifted and Anna Reynolds stood up, her wand pointed at Harry. She let fly a destructive bolt that hit the ground next to Harry, but hed reacted quickly, instinctively and had managed to roll away, avoiding the brunt of the blow. Annas eyes were wide and she cackled in delight as the people in the room scattered. Avada kedavara! She sent the killing curse hurtling towards Dennis who managed to evade it, pushing Sarah out of the way. Suddenly, a bold of greenish light struck her wand, sending it flying followed up by another bolt that bound up the insane woman tight. Samantha looked over to where the saving bolts had come from. Her eyes widened as she saw Bonnie standing there, her wand extended, a grim, determined look on her face. Bonnie? Samanthas voice couldnt hide her surprise. The timid woman had finally stood up to the bully.

I couldnt let her hurt anyone else, Samantha. Were responsible for all this and were responsible for letting this monster out on the world. Bonnie hadnt dropped her wand and Dennis and Ron drew beads on her. Stop! Its over. Harry had managed to regain his feet and stood up unsteadily. He held up his hands and motioned for Ron to collect the rest of the teams to take the Society into custody. Harry then looked over at Bonnie. Youre Bonnie Wright? Bonnie nodded and allowed the wand to drop. Im Harry Potter, and on behalf of the Ministry of Magic, Id like to thank you for sending that owl, telling us where you were. We were barely in time to stop this. Harry held out his hand and Bonnie dropped her wand into his palm. You sent him an owl telling them where we were? Samanthas voice was filled with surprise and Bonnie smiled. When you made everyone choose to continue to do things so immoral and when you refused to act when Anna told you she killed that man, I decided I had had enough and that I would make things right. Bonnies voice was confident and she didnt flinch when Mortimer took hold of her elbow to take her away. Nice shot, by the way. Mortimer whispered in her ear. She turned and looked at him, her face blushing. Thanks. My name is Bonnie. She was shocked by her own forwardness. I know. Im Mortimer, nice to meet you. Mortimer led her away as the rest of the Ministry team began to arrive. She was your unusual source? Ron wiped his brow and looked at his friend. What was that owl from Malfoy about then? Bonnies owl had arrived after Dracos. Draco was warning me about the Societys desperation to find more eggs. He let me know about his refusal and gave me list of other sources they might try. I knew that they had no choice but to use the forged eggs, but I didnt know where to look until I got that owl from Bonnie. Harry gave Samantha a sympathetic look as she stood and stared at Silas. She turned and smiled at Harry. Will he be all right? Hell be fine once the potion wears off. Well have to keep him confined until then. Harry watched as his teams began to cart the unconscious big man away. Then hell hate me, wont he? Samanthas voice was full of regret and bitterness at losing Silas most of all. I dont know, Silas is actually quite gentle. Theres only one real surefire way of finding out, though. She looked at Harry, a question in her eyes. You could just ask him. Who knows, maybe theres some chemistry between you two without needing a potion. Ron nodded and one of the hit team members led Samantha Wilkes away. Once she had left, the red-haired team leader leaned in to Harrys ear. Then again, I cant imagine how mad Silas is going to be after this.

Harry nodded. Its a shame, but what can you do? He looked over at Dennis, who seemed everything in order. Ron checked out the rest of his team and turned to Harry. Hey, why dont we go to the Leaky Cauldron for a quick pint before going home? Ill bet Neville will b e there and we can check up on how Teddys doing. Harry smiled. That sounds like a good idea. Hows your side-along apparition? Hey, that only happened once. Ron sounded defensive. Yes, but it took me almost a week to get the finger put back on. Now can you do it or not? Ron stuck out his tongue and put his arm around his friends shoulders. In an instant, they were both gone. *** The Department of Mysteries had become more a place of research than a place to hide the unknown from the masses. Still, like any Ministry department, it functioned within the bureaucracy. Wilbur Bishop was just a janitor. Today, he was going to clean up the massive store room within the Department. He wheeled in his cart and jinxed his mops and brooms to begin their work. He walked around, wiping his dust cloth on the shelves and desks about the room. It was large room, labeled simply as the Archive. On the shelves were dusty tomes and small crystal balls holding the penseive memories of famous events from the past. Wilbur loved working in this part of the Department. The titles alone allowed him to be near history. He was dusting one particular section of shelf. The glass orb sitting under his eye drew his attention. It was labeled K. Shacklebolt: Fall of the Ministry to LV. He picked up the crystal ball to dust underneath it when a glint of metal caught his eye from the floor. Whatever it was, was wedged in the space between two of the large bookcases. He knelt down and reached his hand down. Obviously it had fallen from a shelf and Wilbur reached back to put it back. He scraped it with his fingers and managed to pull it out. It was a watch, but unlike any watch hed seen. It was battered and dented with a shiny gold surface. Above the face was a series of interlocking circles with a small knob that connected them all. He looked at it curiously and tucked the crystal ball underneath his arm. Slowly, he turned the knob, and the universe turned suddenly flashed. Wilbur Bishop disappeared and the room labeled the Archive stood empty, save for the dozens of crystal balls on its shelf. *** Harry and Ron appeared outside the Leaky Cauldron. The sky, which had been bright and sunny when theyd left the Ministry, was suddenly gloomy and dark. Well, that moved in pretty fast. Harry nodded at Rons comment and looked over to the entrance to the pub. Lets go. We dont want to be caught up in this. Before his hand could touch the door, another, skinny, dirty hand grabbed his own. A thin, frail figure of a man, his face hidden beneath a hood, whispered to Harry. You need to come with me, now. Ron spoke up. Who are you? Whats this all about? Do you realize who your talking to? The voice shook when it spoke, as if not believin g its own words. Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. Now follow me, youre in great danger.

Harry held up his hand and allowed the man to lead them to an alley off to the side of the Leaky Cauldron. They walked back to the corner of the alley out of eye shot of the road. Harry looked over at Ron and turned to face their mysterious companion. The man paused underneath a small, sanguine lamp that cast a gloomy pall over the alley. All right, whats this all about? Who are you? Harrys voice had a trace of exasperation and he tapped his foot in expectation. The man turned and looked at them from the depths of his hood. I should ask you the same thing. You two are supposed to be dead. If you werent, why did you abandon us, Harry? Where in Merlins name have you been? The man raised his hands up to his hood. His arms and fingers were scarred and burnt, as if the man had seen brutal fighting. He drew back his hood and stared at them, drawing a deep breath from both Ron and Harry. You were supposed to stop him, Harry. Why didnt you stop Lord Voldemort? The hurt, sad eyes of an older, battered Colin Creevey stared back at them. Chapter 183 The World Turned Upside Down Colin? Rons voice squeaked out, the shock of seeing their long dead friend alive and in front of them overwhelming their senses. Ron stammered, but soon stopped as Harry placed a restraining arm on his shoulder. Harry took in man in front of them. It definitely looked like Colin Creevey, only older, more world weary. He looked like the boy whod snuck back into Hogwarts to fight in that final battle with the Dark Lord, yet his face told the tale of a lifetime of hard experience. Colin had the look of a veteran warrior, cat like in his stance, his eyes never staying still as he kept a constant vigil for danger. Whats going on here, Colin? Harry stepped forward and then stopped as Colins gaze shifted and locked onto him. I should ask you the same thing, Harry. You and Ron are dead, yet here you are, talking to me. You two died almost a dozen years ago and left us holding the bag, left us to fight on alone. Where did you go? How can you still be alive and not taken up the fight? Colins voice bordered on hysteria, the sight of Harry and Ron carrying him to a dangerous precipice over which he was about to plunge. Harry tried to get a hold of the situation, to keep Colin from losing himself to madness. Okay, why dont we start from the top? What is todays date, Colin? Harry was grappling with the reality of seeing Colin Creevey in front of him, and he wanted to understand what or who had brought him here. Its November 11, 2007. That gibed with what Harry knew. Harry took a deep breath. If he could get this poor man to the Ministry, or even St. Mungos, they could understand how his presence came to be. Thats correct. Listen, Colin, you seem to be a trifle agitated. Why dont you let us take you back with us? We can help you. Im the Head of the Office of Aurors and Ron is one of my team leaders. No one will be able to hurt you. Harry extended his hand. Are you mad, Harry? Colin drew back from the Harrys hand. Draco Malfoy leads the Deatheaters. There are no more Aurors. Lord Voldemort has placed Lucius Malfoy in charge of the Ministry, but he rules this place. Theres no way Im going back to the Ministry with you. Im a wanted criminal.

What are you talking about, Colin? Ron couldnt contain his voice. Harry defeated the Dark Lord over ten years ago, at the Battle of Hogwarts. A lot of people died to make sure it happened, but Voldemort is dead and gone. Ron studiously avoided mentioning that Colin had been killed at that battle. Colin stared at Ron and Harry, unsure what to make of the insanity spouting from their mouths. We lost the Battle of Hogwarts, Ron, mostly because you and Harry were killed months before. The Battle of Hogwarts was the last stand of the Order of the Phoenix. Weve been on the run ever since. This is ridiculous. Harry was becoming more than a little frustrated with the lack of information. Im going down the Ministry, you can come with us or stay here, Colin, but we really dont have time for this. No! Colin reached out and grabbed Harrys sleeve. You dont understand, Harry. M uggleborn or half bloods have been banned. If you show up at the Ministry, youll be jinxed and caught. What about me? My family is pure blood. Rons lips contorted in distaste at having to mouth the words. Colin turned to Ron. Youre a different problem, Ron. Youre family name is banned, because of what the Weasleys meant to the resistance. What do you mean by meant? Rons voice was chilled, the verb tense that Colin had used was disturbing. Colins eyes widened, as if he had something to say, but couldnt bring himself to say it. We cant stay here, someone here is stark raving mad, and Im not sure who it is. Harry sighed heavily. Colins brain stirred over the problem and then he snapped his fingers. The Burrow! Go to the Burrow and maybe youll understand whats happened. Harry looked at Ron, who shrugged his shoulders. It couldnt hurt and if Dads home, he can help find a way to answer why Colins here. Harry nodded and turned to Colin. Okay, Colin. Well go to the Burrow. Do want to side along with us? Harry stared at the sad eyes on his long lost friend. No, Ill be along shortly. You have to understand, and you need to do that alone. Colins cryptic response left a sense of dread with the two. Harry and Ron looked at each other and then nodded. Soon they apparated away, the Burrow their destination. *** They appeared in what should have been the center of the apple grove located at the Weasley family home. When their senses came around, they were immediately struck by the smell. There was an odor of burnt wood and when they turned to face the familiar ad hoc structure that was The Burrow, it simply wasnt there. In its place was a large, open hole with wisps of smoke steaming from the pit. The home simply wasnt there. Ron rushed forward gazed around. His home, the home where hed grown up had ceased to exist, blown asunder by a bolt from above.

Harry felt a knot in his chest. Hed had a particular affinity for this place, ever since he was a boy. It had been his first real exposure to a loving family, where the place itself seemed to envelop him in love and affection. He looked around. The grounds were charred, blackened, without a hint or trace of the original structure to be seen. What the blazes? Harry was surprised that Ron was even able to get the words out. They stood, stunned at the destruction. I told you, you guys have been dead for a dozen years. This is the price of our failure. This is what happens when you fail to defeat the Dark Lord. Somehow, Colin had appeared behind them, but in their shock and grief, theyd failed to notice his arrival. What happened to my parents? What happened to my family, Colin? Rons voice shook, his shoulders slumped and his knees failed him as he fell to the ground. Colin looked over at Harry, his eyes pleading. I dont think I can say, Harry. We cant stay here long. The site is monitored by the Ministry and the Deatheaters and their spies will find out about us before long. Co lin turned away from Harry and ignored Rons question. This isnt supposed to be happening. This isnt the way things occurred. Something is definitely wrong here. Harry looked around, desperate to apparate home and check on Ginny and the kids. Where can we go? Who can we talk to? For the first time since theyd met up with him, Colin smiled. Well go to the heart of the resistance. Well go to the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. Im sure Mr. Big can help us with what we need. Mr. Big? Harry raised an eyebrow. Oh, I forgot. Voldemorts name is no longer jinxed, but everyone wanted by the Ministry for being part of the resistance has their name jinxed, so we go by code names. Mine is Papparazi. This time Colin beamed and reached into the folds of his robe. Inside, he pulled out the small camera hed been famous for carrying around with him at Hogwarts. Harry smiled. Lead on. He walked over to Ron and gripped his shoulder. Come on Ron, we have to find out whats going on to set things right. Ron stood up and nodded. Before he moved towards Colin, he raised his chin. Colin, before we go, Ive got to know. Wheres Hermione? Colin lowered his head. She tried to finish whatever Professor Dumbledore wanted you to do by herself. She tried as hard as she could, but without you or Harry, she couldnt finish the job. Shes dead, Ron. Bellatrix Lestrange caught up with her at the Malfoy mansion and she tortured Hermione to death. Im sorry, Ron. I know she was your friend. Ron felt the tears washing over him. He turned and stumbled to where Colin stood and tried desperately to hold in the grief. Harry took hold of his friends shoulder and held him tight. Harry turned to Colin. She was more than a friend, Colin. Lets go. Colin nodded and took hold of both their arms and concentrated. The three disappeared in a cloud of smoke and light. ***

They appeared in the center of a small pedestrian tunnel, which struck Harry as very familiar. He looked around and then stared at Colin. I know this place. Are you sure this is where were supposed to be? Harrys finger traced the outline of a familiar script of graffiti, one hed seen on countless occasions before. Were at Privet Drive. Colin nodded. Once you were, well, er, dead, Voldemort had no use for the Dursleys. They were under our protection, but once we lost the Battle of Hogwarts, we changed their memories and set the Dursleys up in Majorca. Even if you werent in the picture, Professor Snape felt that there was no way that we could protect Lily Evans sister from the Dark Lords wrath. Snape? Harrys ears perked up. Is Snape still alive? Colins eyes told Harry the answer. Therell be time to tell you everything later, Harry. Wev e got to get inside. The Dementers are everywhere. Their link to the Dark Lord is stronger than ever. Come on. Colin led them out of the tunnel and out onto the street. It had been years since Harry had been here, even with the reconciliation with his Aunt Petunia and with Dudley. The neighborhood had deteriorated. The homes were less cared for and the somber darkness of the weather had added a gloomy timbre to the place. They walked quickly and eventually came to the home he grew up in. From around his neck, Colin pulled out a small key which he carefully inserted into the lock. He pushed the door open and walked into the foyer of the Dursleys former home. The interior of the house matched the squalor outside. Harry could only think of the palpitations his Aunt would be having in seeing how decrepit her house had become. Huge tears in the wallpaper hung down in the puddles of water that trickled through the holes in the roof. The furniture was moldy and ruined and the kitchen had been picked clean by vandals and rats. Colin led them to an area beneath the stairs. Unconsciously, Harry shivered. It was the door to the cupboard where hed spent most of this time in this house. Colin drew his wand and tapped the door a couple of times. He opened the door to reveal a metal spiral staircase leading down into the ground. Colin turned and smiled at them and led them down the stairs. They wove downward until reaching a landing, which was dimly lit by a single light bulb hanging from the ceiling. There was a large iron door with a small sliding insert at eye level. Colin pounded on the door with his fist, knocking three solid times. The small slide opened, revealing a pair of bloodshot eyes. Ive got two people to see Mr. Big. Youd better warn the rest, theyll want to see these guys. The eyes behind the door grew wide as they took in the sight of Harry and Ron. There was a rattling of chains the sliding of several bolts and finally the door swung inward with a hearty screech. The walked through the doorway and into a large, rock hewn room. Behind the door, Harry saw the door man. It was Eric Munch, the erstwhile guard at the Ministry of Magic. He was older, more broken down, but his recognition of Harry and Ron was unmistakable. Colin led them into the cavernous room. There were desks scattered about and familiar faces behind the desk. They walked into the center of the work area. My God! Harry Potter, is that you? Harry turned and spotted Dean Thomas walking up to him. Like the rest, Dean looked under nourished and battle worn. His arms and face were festooned with scars of every shape and size. His smile blazed with its unmistakable charm, but was marred by the black eye patch that covered his right eye. He reached out and embraced Harry tightly and then looked over at Ron.

How is this possible? Deans one eye was glistening with tears. We thought you were dead. Where have you been? Hi Dean. We dont know whats going on. Were trying to piece this out ourselves. Harry was unnerved by seeing Dean. In the reality Harry knew, which was in place he woke up this morning, Dean Thomas was whole and happily married, but his being here completely unraveled Harrys sense of what was supposed to be. Seeing a long dead Colin Creevey was one thing that could written off as a mass illusion, but now he was seeing people he knew and that was making this so much harder to process. What the devil is all this noise out here? Paparazzi, someone told me you brought us som e new recruits. What the hell? Ron? Harry? The voice had come from the far end of the room. Harry and Ron turned to face the sound of the new arrival. Colin stepped forward. I found them near Diagon Alley, Mr. Big. I didnt know where else to bring them. Harry stepped forward and observed Mr. Big. The long red hair was drawn back in a pony tail and the remnants of a casual smile that had once been commonplace seemed to form itself on the face that had long ago forgotten itself replaced the worry born by wearing the mantle of leadership. The voice was the same and Harry couldnt hold himself back. George? Harry felt a hand on his shoulder and he turned to see Ron staring at him. Ron swallowed and exhaled deeply. No, Harry, that isnt George. Ron turned and faced the leader of the resistance. Its Fred. Chapter 184 The Battle of Hogwarts (Revised) The air left Harrys lungs and he stood in awkward fascination as the realization that the man standing in front of him was indeed, Fred Weasley. His mind wandered back to the last time hed seen Fred. His family was surrounding his body, a smile forever fixed on his face as he had fallen during the Battle of Hogwarts. The man standing in the middle of this war room was more gaunt and had the look of a tremendous weight on his shoulders. The smile Harry had seen in death no longer seemed to be evident in seeing Fred in life. Rons reaction mirrored his long lost brothers. The two came together in an embrace of loss and love, both, in their minds, having resolved themselves to the fact that the other had died. The myriad of emotions running through Rons mind had cascaded to near overload and he simply shut out the thinking process to enjoy the real, living sensation of his brothe rs presence. Harry watched the two brothers reconnect and his mind immediately flew to thoughts of another redhead, another Weasley. He wanted to look around and see if she was there, and yet, he was afraid of not seeing her there. He was also afraid of actually seeing her as well. What would her life been like without him? Who had she moved on with? The conflict raging in his head was too much and like Ron, his mind was rapidly approaching overload while processing the information. After a moment, the Auror in Harry began to take hold, the instincts honed by years of trial and worry superseded the panic and he stood taller. I think we need to go somewhere and talk, Fred. Fred broke the hug with Ron and Harry recognized the veil of impassivity that was evident in leaders in times of struggle overtake his old friends face. Fred looked over at Harry and then at Ron and nodded. He gave a head pull and guided them to an office that sat off the main floor.

The three walked into the room and Fred pointed to two battered chairs in front of an equally time-worn desk. The desk was cluttered with parchment, pictures and empty coffee mugs. As Harry took the proffered seat, he noticed the walls were adorned with dozens of pictures of people he recognized and those he did not. Some had brilliant red marks carved through the faces while others had question marks in the corner of the poster size pictures. Harry looked over at Fred who chuckled. Deatheaters. It never hurts to know your enemy. Fred collapsed wearily into his seat on the far side of the desk. He brought his hands together and formed his fingers into a steeple shape and stared at the two. His gaze remained fixed on Ron, while a deafening uncomfortable silence descended on the room. Then, he let out a sigh and faced Harry. Where the hell have you two been all this time? Freds voice was a mixture of relief and sadness with a hint of suspicion that Harry almost missed. Harry returned Freds gaze. Frankly, I dont know if any of this is real, Fred. Something is definitely not right here. None of this was the reality we knew this morning. Oh, this is real enough, Harry. The pain, the deaths, theyre all real. Fred gave a cautious glance at Ron, telling himself for the umpteenth time that what Fred saw as reality now included the living spectre of his brother before him. You two are dead. I saw it happen. Just like I saw Mum and Dad, Bill and Fleur, Percy and Charlie, and well, you know. No, Fred, we dont know. Harrys voice was deadly serious, although his insides were roiling because Fred had pretty much gone through a list of the Weasley clan and still hadnt mentioned Ginny or Wheres George, Fred? Rons voice quavered, his body physically recoiling from t he litany of loss his brother had described. For a moment, Fred ignored the question, but Harry could see the cloud of pain that shadowed Freds face as he looked at Ron. Georgewell A new pain ripped through Freds soul, the pain of loss that could only come from losing a twin. George didnt make it, Ron. He died at Hogwarts. Fred reached into a side drawer and drew out three glasses and a bottle. He uncorked the bottle and started pouring drams of brown liquid into the glasses and passed them out to Harry and Ron. To those we lost Fred raised his glass and looked Harry and Ron grimly and then smiled curiously. and those we found. They mimicked his toast and the downed the drinks, a hot fiery draught of courage on a bizarre day. Harry carefully put his glass down on the desk and Fred refilled it. What happened at the Battle of Hogwarts, Fred? You dont know? Fred eyed Harry strangely. Lets just say were out of touch with the way things have happened. Ron gave a qu ick glance in Harrys direction and Harry have an imperceptible nod, telling his friend to hold off on giving off any details. They had to find out what was wrong, first, what had changed. Well, Snape figured that he had to take control of the Order onc e you had, well, died. Fred was getting better at working his way around their deaths, the liquid courage doing its magic. He remained tied to the Dark Lord, and found it especially easier being named Headmaster.

You trusted him, even after Dumbledore? Harry watched Freds reaction, gauging if the change had been around Snapes actions. Not at first, in fact, with the Carrows at Hogwarts and the Ministrys snatchers, we thought Snape was in the tank for Voldemort. It wasnt until he saved Neville, Luna and Ginny, one night that we really knew his true colors. Harry flinched at Ginnys name and it was all he could do to hold himself from asking after her. Fred continued the story. Anyway, wed learned enough from Hermione that Voldemorts key to immortality were these Horcruxes. Fred sat back and put his hands behind his head. I have to tell you, Ron, Hermione really was quite a witch. She found six of the Horcruxes and we got to them. Shed almost figured out the last one before, well, before she was killed. Rons face turned downward and real tears began to trickle down his face. Harry, for his part, tried to soothe his friend, but something the conversation jogged his memory. Six horcruxes? There were seven. Right, Ill get to that. Freds response was more than a little curt. And anyway, we didnt know about the seventh. In fact, the Dark Lord didnt know about the seventh. Once wed destroyed the Horcruxes, we became focused on all this Deathly Hallows nonsense. Wed fi gured that your Invisibility Cloak was one of them and Snape did some research and determined that Dumbledore had been the owner of the Elder Wand. We never did find the Resurrection Stone. Fred looked at Harry expectantly, but Harry merely shrugged his shoulders. For a moment, it looked like Fred was going to press the point, but he decided to let it go. The Elder Wand was the key. Snape figured it would allow him to take on the Dark Lord Before Fred could continue, Harry held up a hand. Wait, wait, wait, Draco Malfoy disarmed Dumbledore, therefore he was the owner of the Elder Wand, how did Snape manage to get it back? Harry remembered the night of Dumbledores death and the events leading to the passage of ownership of the wand to him. Snape figured that out as well and disarmed Draco when he made his move. Fred seemed exasperated, Are you telling this story or am I? Harry held up his hands. Fred nodded. Anyway, Snape figured the Elder Wand would be enough to defeat Voldemort, especially with the Horcruxes destroyed. So he killed the Carrows and let Voldemort know that he had the wand. This time Harry took a deep pull on his drink. That caused Voldemort to bring his forces to attack Hogwarts. Everyone who was left came back. Lupin, Lee, Dean, all of Dumbledores Army and whoever was left of the Order of the Phoenix. All of the teachers rallied around Snape. Even the underclassmen came. Colin and his little brother Dennis fought. Snape figured that everyone had a stake in this fight, that no matter how old you were, you were old enough to fight for your life, so he invited all the students to stay, and most did. Fred had a faraway look in his eye. George and I took charge of the students. We kept them together so that they could fight. It was magnificent. George died killing Bellatrix Lestrange. Snape was a man possessed. There was something about the Elder Wand that made it far superior to other wands. Every Deatheater that challenged him, lost. Ron looked at Harry. Things didnt sound so bad. Fred, as if reading their minds, shook his head. Voldemort had stayed in the background. I dont know if it was because he feared the Elder Wand or because he felt that fighting us was beneath him. Something snapped and he brought the rest of his forces against us. I think he was truly mad that Snape had betrayed him.

No one had ever turned against the Dark Lord, not directly, and Snape was standing there and winning. The last attack was the worst. A lot of people died then. Percy was killed when he tried to stop Nott from killing Luna, but Percy was too late. Luna died then too. It was horrible, Harry. Professor Flitwick and Professor McGonagall died on the walls, trying to repel Greybacks toadies. Lee Jordan, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Katie Bell, Hannah Abbott, Terry Boot, Lavender Brown and Cho, they were all killed in that last attack. Harry looked at Fred. Even though events as he knew them occurred over a dozen years ago, the names seemed to haunt the older Weasley, the faces seemingly etched in his mind for ever. Still, we fought them back and Snape took one last chance and squared off with Voldemort. It was a terrific battle, the two of them sustained by hate. Voldemort was enraged by Snapes betrayal and whatever drove Snape, it was more than a match. None of us could have fought that fight. Snape, remember, was a Slytherin and a Deatheater and he didnt fight fair. There was genuine admiration in Freds voice. Snape got the draw on Voldem ort and hit him with a killing curse and the Dark Lord fell right there. We had won, or so we thought. Harry nodded quietly. The seventh Horcrux. The seventh Horcrux. Freds stare went back to Harry and grew sharper. Imagine our surprise, Harry, to find out that you were the seventh Horcrux. But you said I was dead, so how did the Horcrux survive? Harry seemed bewildered and Fred continued his stare. We found that Horcruxes were made from very powerful dark magic, so to destroy one F red looked at Harry once more. Harry finished the sentence, You need a powerful magic object like the Sword of G ryffindor or a basilisk fang to destroy a Horcrux. Right, but you werent killed by something like that. In the end, Rabastan Lestrange fi red a blast that brought a structure down on you. A jagged edge of metal ended up stabbing you and you died. That wasnt enough for Rabastan. He collected your wand and glasses and brought them to Voldemort to prove you had been killed. As a reward, he got to keep both. What happened when Voldemort died? Harry knew the answer, but waited for Fred to confirm it. Rabastan used your wand and he wore your glasses around his neck as a trophy. Both of them lit up and exploded, shattering Rabastan into thousands of little pieces incidentally, and shot over to Voldemorts corpse. The Dark Lord was reborn. Snape didnt have time to react, Voldemort killed him and took the Elder Wand. Fred let his face fall to the desk and sighed. Once I saw that, I got everyone I could out of there. We ran, and weve been on the run ever since. Fighting when you can? Ron spoke for the first time since hed sat down. Yes, fighting and losing. I lose more and more people, every day. We lost Seamus Finnegan last week. He was a good man, almost a brother, you might say. Harry stopped fighting his instinct. He had to know. Fred, what happened to Ginny?

Fred froze and then smiled and held up his hands. Shes alive, if thats what youre asking, Harry. But? Something was wrong and Harry was certain that he didnt want to know, yet he had to know. She saw you die, Harry. It crushed her. It did something to her and it took a long time to break her from the psychosis she was in, but she did and s hed begun to get back to normal. Shes alive, Harry and frankly, I dont know what seeing you will do to her or what seeing her will do to you. Why? Harry asked. We got her to go on with her life, Harry. We got her to move on and that includes fo rgetting about you and finding someone. You understand, dont you? A small knock on the door interrupted him. Of course, logically, he understood, and yet, something didnt seem completely right. Hed just kissed his wife this morning on his way out. A small, familiar voice broke his thoughts. Fred? I heard you had some company Harry turned around and saw her. She was standing there, beautiful. His emerald eyes took in the recognition in hers. He saw shock, denial, fear, terror and pain in her eyes. Harry. All he could do was nod. Chapter 185 Emptiness of the Fall Harry stood and faced Ginny, his emerald eyes piercing the distance between them, burning into her soul. Long ago, shed lost the ability to cry, the loss of so many, inclu ding Harry had torn a hole in her heart. Fred had worked so hard to bring her from the precipice of despair. Shed healed, at least on the surface and had found her heart beating for someone else. Now, here she was, staring at her first, true love. He was alive, vital and now her emotions ran wild as she contemplated what this meant for her. Her instinctive reaction, was, shall we say, all Ginny. Harrys head reeled from the open-handed slap that landed on his cheek. When he returned his face forward, shed wheeled on her heels and was gone. He turned to face Fred, whod found a convenient scrap of paper on his desk to study while the encounter had been going on. What was that all about? Harry rubbed the spot on his cheek, which was reddening. The physical pain didnt match the emotional turmoil he was feeling. Fred shrugged his shoulders. I told you, Harry, your death changed everything. It affected everything we did and it hit Ginny especially hard. Fred stared at Harry with an almost accusatory expression. Harry nodded and looked back at the door where shed left. He turned and faced Fred. You said shed moved on, had decided to live. Is she married? Fred hesitated for a moment and then took a deep breath. She was. But? Harry saw that Fred was hesitant to say, but finally decided on full disclosure. She married Seamus, Harry. After everything we had to put up with, they got close and finally found each other, and I was happy for it. Freds face seemed to dare Harry to challenge him.

Ron spoke up. Fred, you said Seamus was Dead? Yes, just last week. He died on a mission against the new Deatheater training academy. I think some part of her thought she was betraying your memory but we all talked her into moving on. Then Seamus died and And Im here, out of the blue. Harry finished the sentence. How long were they married? Not long, a couple months, maybe? She carried a torch for you for a long time, Harry. I dont know what you being here will do to her, but it cant be a good thing, as you just saw. Fred stood and clasped his hands behind his back. He continued. Thats neither here nor there, Harry. Ive been pretty patient. Where have you two been and what the blazes brought you back now? Ron began to speak, but Harry held up his hand and spoke first. Its more than a little complicated, Fred. Please, let me speak to Ron for a moment? Please? At first, Fred seemed inclined to disallow Harrys request, but then thought better of it. He nodded and headed for the door. Ill give you five minutes, Harry, for old times sake, but after that, I want some answers. Fred turned and left the room. As Harry watched him leave, Ron fell back on his chair. Harry turned and sat next to his friend. How are you holding up? Ron snorted. What do you think? Im an emotional wreck. Whats happened to us, Harry? I dont know, Ron. I know whatever happened, occurred while we were apparating. Somehow, the history of the last decade has been altered and were the only ones that know it. Harry stood and began to pace. Why dont we just tell Fred that? Ron watched his friend walk back and forth and knew Harrys mind was on the encounter hed just had with Ginny. Would you believe us? What do we say, Ron? Oh Fred, everything is off kilter because youre alive? What about all those that we know are supposed to be alive and are dead here? What about the rest we know are dead and are alive? I dont know Ron, full disclosure seems to be the wrong way to go. I see your point, Harry, but we need help setting everything right. We dont even know where to start. Rons point was valid. I agree, but something was messed up. We have to find out what changed, and at what point. We didnt die twelve years ago, but something made that happen. Harry stroked his chin. Ron nodded. As far as I can figure, we should tell Fred as close to the truth as possible. Things are not what they are supposed to be. We tell them enough to get broad strokes in, so that, theyll want to help us set it right, but try to avoid being specific about everyones fates. Rons suggestion made sense. They needed this worlds version of the Order to help them. Fine, Ron. Youre right. Its just, well I just dont know. Its okay Harry. Frankly, hearing that Hermione had died was horrible, but I dont know if I could stand knowing that shed found someone else. Ron put a hand on his friends shoulder. I think

that would hurt more. Still, remember, we have to work on getting back to where we were, where things are right. Ron looked at Harry as a dark expression crossed over his face. What is it? I just had a horrible thought. Harry looked back up at his friend. There were tears in Harrys eyes. What if this is the way things are supposed to be? *** This is a load of Thats enough Ernie. Ernie Macmillan sat back as Freds rebuke singed his ears. Satisfied, Fred turned to Harry. You have to admit, Harry, this is quite a lot to believe. I know, Fred, but its the truth. The reality Ron and I know is completely different from what weve found here. We stopped the Dark Lord. The Order, all of us, won the Battle of Hogwarts. None of this is supposed to be happening. Harry sat down at the dilapidated conference table that was positioned in the center of the main work room of the Order. Harry looked around the table. In addition to Ernie and Fred, seated listening to their conversation were familiar faces from the present and past. Dean Thomas, Colin and Dennis Creevey, Susan Bones, Sean Manchester, Padma Patil, and Michael Corner were all the same people, yet different as their life experience of being on the run had completely changed what they looked like and what they knew. Everyone, except Dean, had disbelieving expressions on their faces. Dean smiled, his one remaining eye bright with enthusiasm. What youre saying Harry, is if you can find out where your history diverged from ours, we might be able to figure out what happened and reverse it. All of this, the Dark Lord, the losses, all of it will go away. Thats what I figure, in theory, anyway. Harry was grateful to Dean for at least being willing to discuss the possibility. Fred had a faraway look in his eye. Finally, he spoke. Youre also saying that the people we lost, theyll be alive in this new reality? Harry shared a glance with Ron. Some of them, sure. Dont get me wrong, we paid a lot in lives at our Battle of Hogwarts. The most telling blow came from Colin. Wait, Harry, arent you also saying that some of us who are alive today, might not be alive in your reality? Harry desperately wanted to avoid that question, but it was out there. He simply nodded. Who? For a moment, the innocent boy he knew Colin to be, showed itself and Harry hurt from the question. I dont want to answer that, Colin. Its, its not important. Harry felt the emptiness of his response as soon as it left his mouth. The blazes it is! From the corner of the room, Ginny, whod been listening in, despite herself, walked over the table. Youre asking us, maybe some of us at this table, to give their lives on the possibility of a better world, Harry Potter. You let us down before, what makes you think we trust you now? Ginny, this isnt helping. Fred tried to temper his sisters response, but years of experience told him it was a futile gesture.

Dont lecture me, Fred. For all we know, these two have been hiding out in Australia with Hermiones parents. Were taking everything on their word and the last time we trusted Harry Potter, we paid an incredible price. Let them prove to us that theyre for real. Ginny crossed her arms, the familiar pose sent jolts of pain through Harrys soul. Ron spoke up. How? Youve got to understand, Ginny, if what we are saying is true, we cant tell you what the real timeline is like. Fred turned back to his sister. Rons right, Ginny. It would completely defeat the purpose for us to know. So what do you propose? Ginny thought for a moment. Harry says hes the Head of the Office of Aurors and Ron is a senior Auror team member. They should be pretty handy in a fight, more than they were when they were as Hogwarts students. Let them fight the next mission. Fred clamped his mouth shut. He turned and looked at Harry and Ron. Shes right. All we have is your word, right now. Granted, the fact that youre both alive says a much, but we have to know more. Well come with you, of course, but if what youre telling us is true, youll be able to handle things. Ron looked over at Harry, who nodded. Fine. Well do it. Whats the target? Oh, its easy, actually. Were going to hit a Deatheater watering hole in Diagon Alley. *** This is crazy, Harry. Ron and Harry had gone into one of the side offices to change. As Aurors, their rucksacks had been magically charmed to hold a whole host of items, including their battle kit. Theyd changed from their street clothes into black combat f atigues, complete with high topped leather boots and deep black cloaks. Harry nodded as Ron held his brilliant, silver Aurors shield. Wear it, Ron. Aurors are supposed to be banned here. It might cause a bit of a fuss to see the old shield in play. As for being crazy, youre right, but what choice do we have? Harry finished attaching his own shield on his breast. Ron nodded and pulled his long, flowing red hair back into a tight pony tail and fixing it with a piece of light blue ribbon. Harry looked at him curiously and Ron smiled, his face lost in the past. Rose gave it to me this morning. She said she thought the black band I used was ugly. I dont want to forget her, Harry, or Hugo or Hermione. For as long as we have to do this, I dont want to forget them. Ron finished tying the delicate blue band tightly around his hair. We wont, Merlin knows I want to get back to what we had. Harry pulled his satchel back around his shoulder. For the first time since theyd been here, Ron laughed. I dont blame you. I always made fun of you making my sister mad. Lord, I think she wants to kill you in this timeline. I know. I cant think of a better reason to want to set things right. Ready? Ron nodded and the two friends, ready for battle, walked out into the main room. ***

The Order of the Phoenix was in their final preparations, but all activity stopped as the two entered the room. The Harry and Ron theyd remembered were barely out of their sixth year at Hogwarts. They were skinny, unsure of themselves and completely unlike the two men who stood before them. Harry and Ron looked back and forth at each other and then stepped up to the table. They placed their bags down and reached inside, each slowly pulling out matching cutlasses. The blades shone, demonstrating the care theyd been giving. Around the room, eyes were drawn to the weapons. Harry chuckled and drew his wand. He raised his sword up, bringing the hilt to eye level and snapped his wand into an intricately carved notch in the pommel. He brought the sword down and waved it couple of times and then slid the weapon into the heavy leather belt around his waist. Ron matched Harrys moves and Fred walked up and grabbed the sword from his brothers hand. Where did you get this? Fred moved the sword around, his palm resting easily on the wood of wand in the hilt. Actually, Harry came up with the idea. Wed been in so many fights trying to hold both a wand and a sword, and we found this was a great way to do both. Ron took his sword back and placed it in his belt. Harry smiled and looked over at Fred. So, whats the plan? Well, we use a floo to get into Flourish and Blotts and hit a small private club over by Gringotts. The club caters to Deatheaters, only. Were aiming to bring their numbers down a bit. Fred flipped his wand into a sheath strapped to his wrist. Flourish and Blotts? Thats a little high profile for an entry, isnt it? Harry cinched up the straps of his satchel. Things have changed in the Alley since the Dark Lord took over, Harry. A lot of the merchants went out of business, mostly because the owners werent pure blood. The owners of the stores on Knockturn Alley took over the real estate in Diagon Alley. Flourish and Blotts is in Borgin and Burkes old location. Were going to Knockturn Alley. Fred smiled and finished his preparations. You say this place is near Gringotts? Harry looked at Ron, who had the same thought. Yes. 93 Diagon Alley, its in the place me and George set up our old practical jokes shop, the Ministry took it over when I was put on the most wanted list. Why? Well, I might have a way for us to get to our target without being seen. Youre looking at a long stretch from Knockturn to the target. Harrys memory drifted back to a report hed seen from Rons teams exploits against the goblins. Really? How? Freds eyes opened a bit. We have to check, but recently, Ron and I had an experience with some hidden tunnels that may bring us close to the target. Well have to see if the entrance is still there in Knockturn Alley. Harry looked around. So, are we ready? No, were waiting for the rest of the strike force. Ginny can go, so can Dean, but everyone else is too hot to take. Im bringing in some help and here they are now! Alo! How are you bem-amado? Are you ready to bring the tortura to the Deatheaters? Harry turned and smiled as the familiar, sultry voice with the exotic accent echoed through the room. Standing at the top of the entry steps in her full glory, Captain Adelina Baretto offered Fred her sexiest smile and sauntered down and kissed him full on the lips. On either side, Muireall Innes

captivated the male members of the Order with her full, red lips and evil smile while Lockley looked straight ahead, her gaze menacing. Ron leaned into Harrys ear. Good to see that some things dont change. Baretto turned and took Harry and Ron in. Ah, who are these handsome men? She reached up and stroked Harrys cheek, causing a distinct redness to form on his neck. Ron snickered and whispered in Harrys ear. Yep, some things dont change at all. Harry laughed. If you had to go to battle, he thought, it was good to go with people you know. The group collected their things and headed out the door. Chapter 186 Professionals and Amateurs Fred led the strike team up a different staircase to another antechamber which held a single hearth. Harry watched as Fred began to distribute floo powder to the team. Whats this? Harry shared a quick look with Ron. Were going to use the floo to get to Flourish and Blotts. The answer seemed obvious to Fred. Were going one at a time? Rons voice came out surprised. Of course, how else do you think we were going to get there? Is there a problem? Harry sighed. Well, for one, it adds time to the whole process, especially if someone accidentally gets rerouted. Second, what if the area is compromised? You cant assume that it will be open and free of Deatheaters. Lastly, youll need the whole team assembled in order to be able to change tactics. What do you suggest, Signor Harry? Harry felt a jolt of familiarity as Barettos question reached his ears. Harry looked at Fred. Do you know where we are going, exactly? Fred nodded. Harry gestured for Fred to stand on a spot in the middle of the room. Okay, then stand here. Harry and Ron assumed positions directly behind Fred, and slightly off of either shoulder. The rest of you, take up positions behind me and Ron. Draw your weapons and put your free hand on the shoulder of the person ahead of you. Baretto immediately saw what Harry was doing and nodded to Lockley and Muireall, who both moved forward and assumed their positions. Muireall and Baretto were behind Harry and Ron, respectively, with Dean and Lockley behind them. Harry looked at Ginny, whod remained silent. Ginny, get in the center of the spear, please, you can grab on to anyone. She moved hesitantly into the center and drew her wand. Her left hand drifted up and landed lightly on Harrys shoulder. That single touch was almost too much for Harry to bear. He felt his heart race and his throat felt dry. All he wanted to do was turn to her and sweep her in his arms, but a quick look at her face told him that it would probably be the last thing he did in this reality. Fred looked over his shoulder. What is this, anyway? Its an Aurors spear. Its a tactical formation that will allow you to side-along apparate the team into Flourish and Blotts. The triangle gives us a defensive formation in case anyone is waiting for

us on the other side. Are you ready? Fred nodded. Good. Everyone hang on. Fred, concentrate on the destination. Well go when youre ready. Fred swallowed and then concentrated. In a matter of seconds, the team disappeared. *** Flourish and Blotts had seen better days. The age-old paragon of Diagon Alley had once been the destination of choice for free wizards for all their reading needs. It once occupied the largest building, aside from Gringotts, in the very heart of Diagon Alley. Now, it was a shell of its former self, occupying a run down building down the old Knockturn Alley. Not that it needed the space, since the Ministry had taken to banning and burning many of the works that had once festooned the vast shelves of the old location. Anything remotely having to do with magic that could overthrow the current regime was discarded, leaving only the books that were Ministry Approved for the greater good. A tall, blond woman wearing a shabby, faded yellow dress was sweeping the faded wooden floors. Her brilliant blue eyes were sad, the melancholy of her life weighing down her shoulders. A loud crack and explosion of light and smoke shook her from her stupor. In the back of the store, among some of the empty shelves, eight figures in the shape of an arrow appeared out of the mist. She walked slowly towards the newly appeared people, recognizing the man at the tip of the spear. Fred Weasley, you almost scared the wits out of me! She walked up hugged Fred. Hello, Beatrice. Any one strange been about? Fred gestured to the rest, who fanned out, trying to stay out of the line of sight of the front windows. Beatrice Hopkins shook her head. No one, but the usual inspectors and shake down artists. I swear, theyre trying to put us out of business. I think thats precisely what theyre trying to do. Fred said empathetically. Still, were glad youre still around. Well, since my sister has gotten me declared a blood traitor, I cant find work anywhere else. I only wish Neville were still here. Her voice still held a trace of sadness, but the mention of Nevilles name made Harry alert. Nevilles dead, too? Ron spoke for both of them. Beatrice shook her head. Its worse than that. He was captured about a year ago. The word is that hes in Azkeban, but we cant be sure. Barty Crouch, Jr. had been searching for him for years. Harry gave a low whistle and shook his head. Hed hoped upon hope that Neville had survived, but his fate was probably worse than death. Lord Voldemort had a sick sense of symmetry, and treating Neville like his parents was probably his fate. Ron looked out the window. A heavy mist and fog covered the alley, dropping visibility to something short of nothing. Still, he got a good view of the nature of how the world had really changed. Hanging from every building, there flags adorned with the moving visage of Lord Voldemort. Several boarded up buildings were marked with graffiti decrying the former owners as Blood Traitors and Mudblood Lovers. Pedestrian traffic was relatively light, with most people keeping to the sides, avoiding the center of the street. Ron could make out the dark figures of Deatheaters, a pair of which seemed to be patrolling. The two Deatheaters wore dark green robes with a bright skull embossed on the back of their cloaks. Rons eyes widened as he

recognized the faces of Silas Hornsby and Mortimer Gafney. Apparently, without Harry here to give them a second chance, theyd fallen in line with the movement that swept the country and had been inducted into the Deatheaters. Ron motioned to Harry, who peered outside. Harry shook his head grimly and waited until the pair had moved on down the alley. The two Aurors left the window and walked over to Fred. Im going to send Ron out to find the tunnel entrance. When he signals us, we can go to him. Fred nodded. Ron took a deep breath and began to mutter to himself. Slowly, his clothing became torn and tattered, fitting into the somber, dismal environment outside. His face became older and his hair turned a dirty shade of brown, flecked with gray. A beard grew out of his chin and his normally tall posture stooped downward, the sword in his hand becoming a gnarled, knotty wooden staff. Ron turned to look at the others, and noticed the startled faces of Fred, Ginny and Dean. What? I wasnt going to go out there looking like I was. Ron said, indignantly. Dean chuckled. Its just that you were a horrible student, Ron. You hated transfiguration class. That was school. It was a lot more interesting to learn when I needed it for work. Ron said defensively. Harry pointed to the door and Ron stole out into the street and disappeared into the mist. Harry waited for a few minutes, the time passing slowly. After a few more minutes of waiting, a small, ethereal Jack Russell terrier came bounding up the street and paused in front of the building. Its here and all clear. Rons Patronus disappeared in a flash. Harry looked back at the rest and motioned for them to follow. He led them down the street, towards the end of Knockturn Alley and turned into a small opening between two of the buildings. At the end of the alley, Ron stood, transformed back to his normal appearance, sword out and guarding an opening in the brick wall. Where does this go, again? Fred sounded tense and Harry picked up a hint of suspicion in his voice. It goes to a lot of places, mostly inside Gringotts. There are subpassages that will bring us to a storefront next to our target. Harry answered. How can you be sure? Muireall spoke for the first time, still unclear as to Ron and Harrys true purpose and origin. As far as she and the rest of the Discooperire crew, the two were new recruits to the cause. We were here a couple of weeks ago. Harry kept his response vague. He nodded to Ron who went inside the tunnel and lit his cutlass, using his wand. The blade glowed with a bluish light and Lockley smiled. The lethal looking Mistress at Arms took in the wand in its sword notch. Now why didnt I think of that? Ron choked back a small whisper. You did. They walked through the twists and turns, taking one tunnel than another. Harry called for a halt and turned to Fred. Whats your relationship with the goblins?

Fred shrugged. Voldemort has no love for them. Umbridge began a program to start pushing them out, but theyve managed to hold on to control of Gringotts. We hear that Fudge may have a way to control them, but the old Minister hasnt had a chance to try it out. Anyway, they dont love the Ministry, but theyre not actively helping us either. They blame all humans for their troubles. Harry nodded up to Ron. Be careful for goblins. Were getting to the junction that separates Diagon Alley from the bank. Ron acknowledged Harrys warning and kept walking. After a few more minutes they came to a small circular room with a ramp leading up to a trap door. Ron carefully opened the door and peeked around. He looked back and waved and led them up through the trap door into a cold, empty room that looked like an old restaurant. There were tables and chairs strewn about and water dripped through a hole that was blasted through the second story and out the room. The front windows were barricaded with rotting pieces of wood. The place looked like it had been abandoned for quite some time. Fred walked up to the window and peered through the seams in the wood planks. Its right across the street. Fred pulled out his wand and aimed it at the building that he and his brother used to share for their fledgling business. Harrys hand shot up and pulled down Freds wand. What do you think youre doing? Freds response was angered and surprised. I was about to ask you the same thing. Harry didnt back down and Fred took a deep breath. I was about to blast the front off that building and start killing Deatheaters, if you have to ask. Are you having second thoughts, Auror? Freds tone was borderline mocking and Harry struggled to control his own reaction. Thats your plan? Blow up the front of the building and blast away from here? How can you possibly think youll get anything done? Plus, youll be attracting any response right to your escape route. Harrys voice was even. Weve been at this for quite a while, Harry. We know what were doing. Fred rubbed a prominent scar that marked where a blast had hit his arm. Suddenly, realization dawned on Harry. He and Ron had had years to hone their skills through training and experience. Fred and his rebels had been learning on the fly, through trial and error. Usually the error resulted in losses, but theyd never really had the time to sit back and analyze better ways to conduct their insurgency. Ron and Harry were professionals, who, in the intervening years since Voldemort had been defeated, had fought in war and peace with the time to make changes in the way they operated. Fred had essentially been fighting since the day Harry and Ron had died. For all their experience, for all their trials, the Order was still composed of amateurs when it came to warfighting. Harry took a deep breath. Listen, you wanted me and Ron along to prove ourselves, right? If we are going to put our lives on the line here, youve got to let us do this our way. Weve done this before and frankly, were good at it. Im going ask you to trust us. Harry looked at the rest of the team. The three sail ors nodded appreciatively, at least their years at sea had taught them enough to know that the way Ron and Harry had been conducting themselves thus far was the hallmark of people who knew what they were doing. Dean looked a little confused, but finally nodded, as did Fred. Ginny took the longest to react. She stared curiously at Harry and noticed his determination, his resolve. Shed seen once before, that day hed broken up with her at Dumbledores funeral. It shook her, and finally she nodded wordlessly. Fred looked at Harry. All right, Harry. Ill bite. How would you handle this?

Harry noticed Ron sigh in relief and smiled. We do it by the numbers. First, we need an idea of what were up against. Harry reached into his pocket, while Ron mirrored his actions. They took out small, prewrapped plastic bags and tossed them around. Extendable ears? I havent seen these in years. Fred smiled, a bit of the old Fred making an appearance. And Extendable Eyes, we need to get a look inside and see what theyre up to. Harry smiled. Fred noticed a label printed on the packaging. Weasleys Wizard Wheezes? Well, its good to know George and I are still in business. With all thats been happening, its been years since Ive thought of a good practical joke. Fred tore open the package and pulled out the ears. Harry and Ron shared a quick glance. Harry knew that Ron was thinking the same thing. Weasleys had gone on without Fred. All right. Lets see what we can see. Harry tossed a small eyeball attached to a skin like string into the street. It bounded across, followed closely by a small ear attached to the ear that Fred was holding. The eyeball slid under the door of the building across the street and Harry put his own eye to the eyeball in his hand. The room inside was large, like an inn or a pub. There were about a dozen men and women inside wearing familiar green robes and camp followers of various types sitting around, flirting with the men and some of the women. Harry took a deep breath, one of the women was Pansy Parkinson. She looked haggard and overweight and was laughing at some insipid joke one of the Deatheaters was telling. Ron chuckled. I guess Draco never took to Pansy, eh? Fred smiled. No, he dumped right after Hogwarts. Hes married now, to Beatrices sister, actually. Domina? Harry couldnt hold back. Thats right. Shes an evil witch, let me tell you. She drives a lot of the pure blood stuff through the Wizengamot. Fred shuddered. Harry nodded and then retracted the eye. All right. Were ready. Ron and I will go in through the front door. Adelina and Muireall will take the side entrance. Dean and Lockley the back entrance and Fred and Ginny can follow up behind us. Wait, were going in there? Deans voice was surprised, but not fearful. Of course, how else would you do it? It was Harrys turn to be surprised. Fred spoke up. Wed do a quick hit, from outside. A couple of blasts and then run like hell. What does that accomplish, except to leave a bunch of irritated Deatheaters hot on your tail? Harry asked. Dean nodded. Youre right. Typically, we shoot and run and thats when they get us, during the pursuit. Thats how they got Seamus. Harry noticed that Ginny closed her eyes tightly at the mention of Seamus name. He felt a momentary pang of sympathy combined with a startling jolt of jealousy. He quickly doused that emotion and looked over at Fred.

Look, Fred, Im not trying to tell you how to run your war, but both Ron and I have been at war, large scale and small scale. The only way to really defeat your enemy and get your people out is to do it up close and personal. Youve got to strike hard and get in among them. Standing off leaves too many free wands out there, it leaves too much uncertainty. Hes right, amor. An impressed Baretto looked over at Harry. It sounds like Signor Potter here has fought aboard a ship before. Harry felt his cheeks flush, but Fred remained unconvinced. Adelina, why havent you ever mentioned this before? About how to fight? I have, amoroso, but I didnt want to contradict you in front of your people. My loyalty is to you, mi amor. I go where you go. Baretto leaned over and planted a kiss on Freds cheek. Okay, Harry, well do it your way. Fred tightened his grip on his wand and made his way to the door. Harry looked over at Ginny, who was staring curiously at Baretto and then at Harry. Catching Harrys eyes on her, she cinched up her robe and walked over to stand by Fred. *** The place had no sign, no name. It simply was called the Club. Gregory Goyle had appropriated the space years ago when the Weasleys had been disowned by the wizarding community. Hed turned it into a den of repose, complete with women of ill repute, gambling and drinking. Today was no different from any other day. About ten off duty Deatheaters lounged around the room, drinking from tankards and placing their attentions on the harem of women and men that were around the room. There was a small staircase that ran up to a landing at the top of the second floor. The second floor had rooms where the Deatheaters could attend to whatever depravities they had in private. In one such room, Vincent Crabbe reclined on the bed, still dressed, his boots by the door. It was his turn with Pansy, but she was still serving drinks downstairs. He reclined, sleepily, when a loud crash and explosion came from downstairs. Quickly, Crabbe jumped into his boots and drew his wand. He opened the door and crawled on the floor to look through the railing of the landing to the bar below. When he saw what was going on, he cringed, afraid to draw attention to himself. His eyes were drawn to the two figures in black that seemed to be the center of the destruction and mayhem. There was something familiar about the pair. He focused on the man with wild black hair and piercing green eyes. He was casting spells about and slashing away with his sword. Crabbe looked closer and noticed the lightning bolt scar on the mans forehead and drew back. It cant be! Hes dead. Crabbe refused to believe his eyes and then he stared at the tall, well built man with the long red haired pony tail, wielding a sword similar to the first man. Theyre both dead! Slowly, Crabbe crawled backwards into his room. Then he got up and opened the sash of the window and dropped to the alley below. In a panic, he ran as fast as his corpulent legs would take him. *** The entry had gone flawlessly. Harry and Ron blew the front door off its hinges and entered, Harry moving right and Ron moving left. Harry brought his sword down and slashed open the chest of the bewildered Deatheater standing near the bar. He extended his arm and blasted one whos responses were slightly quicker than his brethren, sending the man flying across the room. Ron and Harry moved quickly, getting in among the dazed and bewildered Deatheaters, their assault knocking them back. Soon the back and side doors blew open, revealing the other members of the assault force.

Ron caught some movement from the landing above, and a half dressed man, extended his arm, a wicked looking black wand in his hand. Harry, twelve oclock, high! Harry caught Rons warning and dove at the last second, but the mans blast knocked his sword from his hand. Ginny and Fred had followed Harry and Rons entry and Ginny walked in just in time to see Harry roll from the blast from above. Ginny turned and saw Ron fire a blast that took out the man upstairs. Her eyes went back to Harry, who was being approached by a pair of Deatheaters. She raised her wand, but Harry stood between her and the men threatening him. A wave of fear gripped her as she felt herself being forced to watch Harry die again and she screamed. Harry, however, wasnt quite ready to die. Instinctively, he pushed his arm out. Protego! To Ginnys surprise, a powerful shield charm extended from Harry, who knocked his two attackers back on the ground. Harry extended his other hand. Accio Cutlass! His discarded sword flew through the air. When he caught it, he continued its momentum and swung the blade effortlessly through the two Deatheaters necks, decapitating them. Soon a lull fell on the room. The only sound the whimpering of the women and men who worked at the place. Harry looked around and assessed the carnage. He turned to Fred. Its time to go. Fred nodded and led the team out the door. They ran at full pace towards the storefront that held the passage. Ron looked up to the sky. Harry! Dementers! Harry looked up and saw about a score of the vile creatures sweeping down to the sound of the battle. Ron, you lead them through the tunnels. Ill take care of the Dementers. Ron nodded and ran into the building, the rest of the team following behind. Ginny stopped for a moment, pausing at the window and watched Harry stand in the middle of the street, a calm, peaceful look on his face. Expecto Patronum! He held his sword high and unleashed his Patronus. Ginny gasped at the sight. It wasnt the stag shed been expecting, but a large, beautiful stallion, respendent in its energy and power. It leapt into the sky and tossed the pursuing Dementers, physically tearing at them, cutting them into pieces and scattering them to the wind. For the first time in years, a bright ray of sun illuminated Diagon Alley and at its center, Harry Potter stood, defiant in the warm glow of the blue sky. His task done, Harry bolted for the door and caught hold of Ginnys hand. She stood dazed and he shook her. Ginny, come on! He pulled her by the arm and helped her into the passage, pulling the door shut behind them. Once inside, with the rest of the team, he let go of her hand and made his way to the front of the line. She stood for a second, reflecting on what she saw. The warmth from his hand on hers seemed to radiate up her arm and into her chest. She stared at the back of his head and followed the rest of the team down the darkness of the tunnels. *** If Tom Riddle, Jr. had a trace of sentimentality in the demon that was Lord Voldemort, it was about Hogwarts. For that reason, in addition to being the Ministrys chief school for young wizards, it was here that Voldemort made his home. Vincent Crabbe apparated outside the front gates and ran between them, ignoring the guards outside. He made his way towards the Entry Hall, ignoring the charred ruin that had been Gryffindor Tower. He walked up the stairs towards what had been the Headmasters office, which Voldemort had taken for his own. At the foot of the office entrance, where a pile of debris that had once been the gargoyle, there was a small stand. Crabbe rolled up his sleeve and drew a knife. He jabbed the tip of the knife into his dark mark tattoo, drawing blood which fell onto the stand. He stood and waited for a few minutes and

the hidden staircase up to the dark lords office appeared. A tall, beautiful woman with porcelain skin and radiant blonde hair walked down and looked at Crabbe with contempt. Crabbe bowed his head. Im sorry to disturb the Master, Mrs. Malfoy, but I must speak with him. Its vital. Theres a threat to his kingdom. Narcissa Malfoy snorted. The Dark Lord knows everything that occurs in his realm. What is this threat that you think youve uncovered, Crabbe? Crabbe swallowed hard and dared to look up, right into Narcissas eyes. Harry Potter and Ron Weasley are alive. I saw them. Theyre alive and they look more powerful than Ive ever seen them. The mention of their names brought a sharp pang of panic to Narcissa. She looked up to the office above, possibly gauging what the Dark Lords response would be. She turned bac k to Crabbe and in an icy voice said, Come with me. Chapter 187 Old Friends and Old Enemies The strike team made its way back to the Orders headquarters, all save Harry and Ron jubilant in their success. They burst into the open office area in a mood of victory. Dean immediately found himself surrounded by the members who were there, and he excitedly regaled them on the attack against the private club, gesticulating madly as he recounted the one-sided battle. Fred stood in the background with Baretto, his arm cavalierly around her shoulders and a slight smile on his face. He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek and then walked back into his office. For his part, Harry stood off to the side with Ron and tried to keep his expression neutral. His eyes were drawn to Ginny, who was staring at him from her seat at a battered desk in the corner. She seemed pensive and turned away when she caught his eyes on her. Im going to talk to Fred, Ron. Harry placed his satchel on a nearby desk. You mind going through our inventory. I have a feeling well be here for a while. Ron nodded, seemingly pleased with having something to do. Often times, after a fight or hard day at the office, hed rely on being able to talk to Hermione, to bounce off his conflicting feelings on her stolid, no nonsense world view and in the immediate aftermath of this battle, he was not looking forward to not having someone to share with. Harry strode over to Freds door and knocked gently on the jamb. You mind if I come in? Sure, Harry! Fred was in an ebullient mood and he immediately reached into his desk and pulled out his bottle. Id say this calls for a drink! Harry walked in and sat down heavily. You might want to go easy on that stuff, Fred. We didnt accomplish much and we might have caused more damage than we thought. Come off it, Harry. We havent had a success like this in a long time. We took out some Deatheaters with no losses. Id say that we had a good day. Why cant you enjoy the moment, Harry? Id say it called for a drink. Fred unstoppered the bottle and poured himself three fingers of the brown liquid. Harry sighed. Fred, we did some damage, but nothing that Voldemort cant recover from and we didnt have time to plan a proper assault. Theres no telling who survived and if anyone did, now they know about me and Ron. What do you think Voldemort will do about that information? Fred stopped bringing his glass to his lips and thoughtfully set it down on the desk. I hadnt thought of that.

Dont get me wrong, Fred. Im glad we did what we did, but we may have also made the Dark Lord very interested in our doings. Look, the whole point of this exercise was to demonstrate our bona fides to your team. I think we did that, but now, before this gets too much for us to respond to, we need your help. Weve got to set things right, while Ron and I are still around to help. Harrys voice had gotten into a more pleading tone, the ramifications of what hed just said sinking into his own conscience. Fred nodded. Give me a few minutes. We need to figure out whats going on. I think theres someone we can go to, but I need to get in touch with them. Why dont you give me a few minutes and Ill see what I can do. Harry nodded and stood up. He reached down to one of the glasses on Freds desk and pulled it up to his mouth, draining it. Then he turned to leave, but not before Fred stopped him. If what youre saying is true, I cant imagine that the Dark Lord will be happy to get the news. Fred watched Harrys back as his old friend left his office. *** I dont suffer fools well, Mr. Crabbe, and as you well know, I am not one renowned for my sense of humor. The Headmasters office had been transformed into an open receiving room, complete with a gilded throne set upon a high dais. Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy stood at either side of the throne as the Dark Lord stood above the writhing figure of Vincent Crabbe. Voldemort was holding his wand high, administering a healthy dose of pain to the interloper who came bearing fairy tales about seeing Potter and Weasley alive. Voldemort reveled in the pain he was inflicting; it had been a while since hed been able to deliver the Cruciatus Curse, personally. The trials and tribulations of being the ruler of all he surveyed very rarely let him feel the raw power that came from using the dark arts. On the one hand, he was thankful to this fool for allowing him a moments respite, but on the other hand, he had no time for tall tales. After a few more seconds, he removed the curse from the gasping Crabbe. It is what I told you, Master. Crabbe held tight to his stomach, his regret for having come here had hit him as soon as he told the Dark Lord what hed seen. He gasped for air as the residual sensation of the torture throbbed on his nerve endings. I am truly sorry for being the bearer of this news, Master, but it what I saw. Perhaps you only thought you saw them, Crabbe. Our Master is not above mercy when his subjects make an error. Lucius spoke without any real feeling. The news had rocked him and he wanted so badly for Crabbe to be wrong. There is only one way to know for certain. Voldemort walked from his platform and bent over at the waist, his fiery red eyes piercing into Crabbes. Legillimens! A different pain returned, as if a spike had been driven into Crabbes temple and out rushed forth the memory of the events. Voldemort felt a momentary distaste as he waded through the vagaries of Crabbes psyche. The man was weak, a follower at best, an opportunist who was less a true believer and more a sycophant to the cause. Then he saw it. The image hit Voldemort like a physical blow. In the center of the action at the pub, he saw Potter and Weasley, aged and well, dealing out magic and fighting ruthlessly, far more accomplished than hed remembered. The Dark Lord drew back and wordlessly returned to his throne. Narcissa and Lucius shared a quick worried glance between them.

The fool seems to be speaking the truth, he did seem to see Potter and Weasley, back from the grave, it would seem. Voldemorts voice came in a whisper, as if in awe of some new magic that rivaled, even his own. After all, wasnt he the only wizard powerful enough to find a way to come back from the dead? Narcissa spoke up after a moment. Perhaps, Master, this is some trick by the reb els? Maybe they used some sort of polyjuice potion to conjure up these likenesses? Voldemort was still stunned, so he leapt to the theory like a drowning man to a life preserver. Of course, Narcissa, that can be the only explanation. We do not know, obviously, because this craven coward ran from the battle. Had he stayed and fought, he might have been able to bring one of these imposters down and we would have proof. Now we are left to sorting this out for ourselves. His tone of voice had returned to its confident self. This was the only plausible explanation. The fake Potter and Weasley would have to be dealt with, obviously, he couldnt have even a hint of the idea that he wasnt all powerful be known. Lucius jumped on the opportunity. This man should pay for his cowardice, my lord? Voldemort gave a desultory wave of his hand and Lucius clapped his own hands together. A stooped, evil grinned man walked into the room, flanked by two Dementors. Lucius smiled graciously and turned to Voldemort, who nodded. Lucius addressed the man. Ah, Macnair. Take this fool to Azkeban and let him experience a partial Dementors kiss. Not a full one, mind you, he may still prove of use, but he must suffer. We will expect a full report from you when it is done. Macnair bowed low and addressed the Dark Lord. Oh, thank you, Master. It will be done as commanded. He gestured to the Dementors who tugged at Crabbes sleeves and carried the whimpering man between them and out the door, trailed by a gleeful executioner. Once theyd gone, Voldemort reclined back on his throne and put his hands together. Lucius, have Draco look into this. I want a full report on the incident in Diagon Alley. Imposters or not, these two fought well and could be a problem . I want that problem removed. Voldemort sighed heavily, a tinge of doubt still in his mind as he recounted the visions he pried from Crabbes head. Yes, my lord. I will see to it personally. Lucius bowed and strode for the door. You do that, Lucius. Remember, no matter what my personal feelings are for you and your family, I will not tolerate failure. The edge in Voldemorts voice caused the hairs on the back of Malfoys neck to stand on end. He gave a curt nod and left the room. Now, Narcissa. The Dark Lord turned to the haughty woman at his side, you may continue to update me on the progress of our blood purity work in the Confederation. *** Harry walked up to the desk where Ron was sitting. It appeared that hed finished taking s tock of their supplies and he was sitting with his head down, apparently studying a spot on the floor. As Harry neared, he noticed that Ron had a small billfold out and he was gazing at a pair of photos contained within. One was of Hermione, smiling as if alive and well, blowing a kiss at Ron. The other was of Hugo and Rose, sitting together and waving to the unseen camera man. Harry patted Ron on the back and walked off, giving his friend some time alone.

Harry wandered around the room, nodding at some of the folks and taking in the atmosphere. Todays adventure seemed to lift their spirits and Harry didnt want to do anything to dispel their happiness. He tried to avoid the area where Ginny sat, but he was drawn to her. Slowly, he approached her desk. May I sit? She seemed surprised by his approach and was caught off guard by his question. Silently, she nodded and he sat down in a nearby seat. There was an awkward silence and Harry looked around, seemingly trying to fill void with small talk , but the words didnt seem to come out. There was a small photograph of Ginny and Seamus on the desk and the visual evidence of their relationship struck him hard and pushed whatever air remained in his lungs out. Instead, he made to get up. Im sorry. I just The words failed him and he blushed and turned to leave. Harry? Her voice reached to him and stopped him in his tracks, like heavy weight. He turned. Her face was strangely serene. It amazed Harry how real this reality was. He looked at her closely, every feature, every tic, every little freckle was the same. There were more lines built from worry and stress, but she remained, in his eyes, the very picture of perfection that he remembered. He wondered if the pain he felt by not being able to hold her could be seen. Yes? It came out as a whisper. I was just wondering, in your world, are you and Captain Baretto an item? The question was not what hed expected. He snorted and turned red. Well, no. He couldnt help himself, he burst into laughter. He saw her own face turning red, but she wasnt smiling and tried ward off the inevitable explosion. Im not laughing at you, Ginny, honestly. The notion is pretty funny to me, thats all. Adelina is a good friend. She and her crew have saved my life more times than I can count, but no, we have never been an item. Shes married with children, although some of her crew is married to my friends. I guess her and Fred never hooked up, either? With great effort, Harry controlle d his emotions and simply shook his head. Thats too bad, Ginny said softly, she makes Fred happy. She looked over at Freds open door and smiled. She keeps him in line. I can see that. Shes pretty willful in my time, too. Harry sat back down and noticed that the small area between Ginnys eyebrows began to crease slightly. In his Ginny, that was an indicator that something beyond their current topic of conversation was bothering her. It had saved him from many a night on the couch to recog nize it. He took a chance. Whats really bothering you, Ginny? Youre not asking me what you really want to know. She seemed surprised that he could read her. For his part, he hoped she didnt ask a whole host of questions that he simply could not answer. She pursed her lips together and let out a long sigh. There is one thing. He held his breath. Did she want to know about Hermione? Her parents? Her lost brothers? He knew that this could go in any number of rabbit holes that would not bode well. She paused and then spoke. Why did your patronus change? Was it because of me? Ginny always knew how to cut to the heart of a matter, to ask a simple question with the most incisive of objectives. He thought about how to answer the question, but she knew how to corner him, where he had to answer in the simplest way.

He stood up and looked in her eyes. Yes, Ginny, my patronus changed because of you. She smiled slightly. I thought so. She looked like she wanted to say more but then Freds voice echoed over the room. Ron, Harry? Gather your things, were going on a trip. Fred walked out and waved everyone back. Where are we going? Harry asked. Were going to meet an old friend who may be able to help us with your problem. Fre d answered. Ron and Harry rose and placed their satchels over their shoulders and followed Fred out the door. *** The village of Budleigh Babberton looked much the same as Harry remembered with the small, open square and the war memorial in the middle. Fred led them to a row of houses that seemed oddly familiar to Harry and he snickered. Horace Slughorn? Hes the old friend? Harry laughed and Ron smiled with him. Fred, for his part, just smiled. They walked up to one of the houses and knocked on the door. After a few moments, the door opened revealing the squat, stout figure of Horace Slughorn. Hello, Horace. Can we come in? Fred spoke and watched as recognition crossed the former potion masters face. Oh my stars and garters, Harry? Harry Potter? Youre alive? Come in, come in. He ushered them into the house quickly and took a brief look outside and shut the door. The house was as Harry remembered, a complete shambles, with torn cushions and furniture knocked about. Slughorn wormed his way inside. Let me get you some tea. Tea would be nice. He rubbed his hands together, unable to take his eyes off of Harry. Fred cleared his throat. We need to see him, Horace. Slughorn stopped and looked at Fred nervously. Are you sure? Ive finally got the potions right. Merlin knows that Snape was a natural at this, but he needs rest, Fred. Slughorn looked back at Harry and smiled nervously. Its important, Horace. We need to talk to him. Freds stare was serious and emphatic and Slughorn nodded and waved them to follow. They went up a small flight of stairs which led to a landing and hallway at the top. Slughorn guided them down the hall to a partially open door. Hes been resting, but I think weve managed to hit the right potion, but go easy on him, hes still a little fragile. Slughorn whispered. Im not dead, Horace. A familiar voice came from within the room. Who is it? Its Fred. Hes brought some guests. They say they need to talk to you. Slughorn sho uted back. Ill make some tea.

He nodded to them and walked down the stairs. Fred pushed open the door and walked inside. Harry and Ron followed behind. The room was a regular bedroom with a high, four poster bed in the center. Laying atop the bed was the last person Harry had thought hed see. Fred noticed Harrys face and smiled, noting the identical expression on the beds occupant at seeing Harry. Fred turned to the bedridden resident, who put down the book he was reading. Remus, I seemed to have found Harry and Ron, alive and well. They have quite a story to tell, if you got a moment. A haggard, beaten face smiled from the bed. Holding his arms out, Remus Lupin burst into tears and embraced Harry with all his strength. Chapter 188 So Begins the Hunt A flash of green flame and burst of dark smoke and powder announced his arrival to the Ministry of Magic. Lucius Malfoy dusted off the residual floo power on his shoulders and strode purposefully through the center of the atrium. He easily walked past the trio of guards manning a larger, more substantial security desk and walked through the crowd with his nose turned upward, as if some smell permeated the space. The teeming throngs of functionaries and followers parted as he walked through, his silver headed walking cane acting as a divining rod, seemingly ushering him unabated to the lifts. The statuary in the atrium had been long since changed, with a thirty foot likeness of the Dark Lord dominating the new fountain, his arms spread out wide in some semblance of beneficence. Along the walls, large pennants bearing the Dark Mark and Voldemorts face flapped in some omnipresent breeze while a nameless voice constantly intoned in the background. Our Blood Must Be Pure! Mud Bloods and Blood Traitors are Enemies of the State! Only the Dark Lord can Save Us from the Taint of the Impure! Death to Mudbloods! Lucius had become inured to the voices exhortations. As the nominal Minister of Magic, he heard the incantation every day and snorted in contempt at the need to have it continue its rants in the seat of government. After all, Lucius had seen to the removal of all workers with less than satisfactory blood lines. They had, of course, been escorted to a place of safety. He wasn t a monster, after all. Besides, the camps allowed him to keep close watch on their activities. There were always people who resisted. Theyd been fighting a losing effort against the Dark Lord for a decade, and they would continue to lose, as long as Malfoy held the Ministers chair. He reached the bank of lifts and immediately took for himself the first available car. The Death eather whod pressed the call button bowed his head and moved to the side in deference to his position. He could have shared the lift with the man, as he was going to the main Death eater office, but it would be unseemly for someone of his position to even demonstrate kindness, so he walked into the car haughtily and pressed the button for the second level with the end of his cane. Potter and Weasley were alive? He didnt buy for a second that it was one of Fred Weasleys rebels disguised using polyjuice. He saw the Dark Lords reactions and the story that the fool Crabbe had woven described fighting abilities that simply did not match what theyd seen from the Order up to now. Still, hed seen both Potters and Weasleys bodies. The assault had been a complete surprise and set into motion the chain of events that had propelled them to power. Perhaps there was a new player at work, a rival from overseas or from within the International Confederation of Wizards itself; someone opposed to the Dark Lords moves to dominate that body as well. He lost himself in thought and was surprised when the door chimed, announcing his arrival at the second level.

He exited the lift and took in the long passageway that made up the offices of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Its mission had become much more substantial as the Dark Lord affected changes that brought Britain to heel. The area had been expanded, allowing for more Death eaters and more Inquisitors to be housed. The term Auror was archaic, it died with the last of them and the need for Dark Wizard chasers seemed to be moot, now that the greatest practitioner of the Dark Arts was now the effective head of state. The Inquisitors were an entirely different proposition. While the Death eaters provided the muscle and intimidation, the Inquisitors were much more insidious, acting as a kind of secret police that spied on the population, ensuring compliance to the new laws of the Ministry. They provided the hidden fear that was essential for keeping the majority of the population at bay. He almost turned around as the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement came walking around a corner and smiled upon seeing him. The founder of the Inquisitors and the author of a good many of the new blood purity laws was also one of the most wretched and vile people that Lucius had ever met. He sighed to himself. Hem hem, Mr. Minister? I say, Mr. Minister? A word, if I may? Delores Umbridge was wearing a set of pale pink robes and square miter cap atop her had. Her shoes squeaked as she walked and her voice raised the hairs on the back of Lucius neck when she spoke. He offered her a plastic smile and slight nod of his head. Yes, Ms. Umbridge? Im quite busy, so if we can be quick about it, Id be most appreciative. Of course, Minister. I just wanted to let you know how troubled I am by some of the activities o ur Death eaters have been causing by mingling with some of the our rather undesirable elements. I know weve talked about this before, but perhaps unifying their leadership under someone with a strong hand may be helpful? Ive heard that some of them are taking up with citizens of unconfirmed but suspected mixed heritage. It may reflect poorly on their leadership. Lucius sighed quietly and managed to avoid rolling his eyes. As with many totalitarian regimes, there was constant competition among the personalities and organizations they led. There was no more bitter rivalry than that between Umbridge and her Inquisitors and Draco and the Death eaters. The Dark Lord actively encouraged the disdain and hatred because it made the two parties more suspicious of each other and less likely to turn on him. Lucius held up his walking stick, stopping her from continuing. Id be very cautious of your tone, Delores. Draco is my son, but more so, he is held in the highest regard by the Dark Lord. Unless you have specific evidence that his Death eaters are directly violating the law, I will no longer listen to petty, partisan bickering. Im far too busy for this. Of course, Minister. Somehow, Lucius believed that Umbridge sounded the most sinister when she was sickeningly sweet, as she was now. It was not my intent to impugn your fine sons reputation, but consider this, I can take him under my wing and show him the ways of government and protect him from the excesses of his team. I see your point, Delores, and I shall consider it. He stopped her from speaking further. I said I shall consider it. Take no action until I have spoken with the Dark Lord. She smiled triumphantly. Do not presume to bypass me and try to approach the Dark Lord behi nd my back, Ms. Umbridge. The last person to do that is now kissing a Dementor in Azkaban. Id hate to see you suffer such a fate. Umbridges smile dampened and Lucius smirked and turned to walk away. In the near future, hed have to deal with that woman. Her ambition was starting to outweigh her usefulness. She was getting brasher, even now, openly challenging Dracos position with his father. A night of the long knives was inevitable and hed make it a point to deal with the

Umbridge matter once this Potter business was dealt with. He walked on towards the double doors at the end of the hallway, his mind on politics and on Harry Potter. *** Fred had taken his leave on the promise that hed return in a couple of hours to retrieve them. Theyd moved down to the living room. Remus had donned a silk bathrobe which fit snugly over his pajamas and he was seated in a high backed chair, his legs crossed, sipping tea from a cup and saucer. Harry thought Remus looked more haggard than hed ever seen h im. It was more than the fact that hed aged ten plus years, but it appeared that his transformations were taking more and more out of him. His eyes seemed to be hollowed out and what remained of his hair was an ashy gray. His smile was weary and Slughorn hovered over him like a mother hen. I must look a sight. Remus smiled apologetically. Im actually feeling much better. Horace has been working on the potion that Severus used to make for me, but the formula died when Severus did. Fortunately, Horace is an accomplished potion master, and he seems to have hit on a mixture that works better than the old draught. Remus carefully placed his tea down on a side table and looked at both Harry and Ron. You two, on the other hand, look substantially better than the last time I saw you. It was a wan attempt at humor and Harry smiled despite its lameness. Lupin sat back. So, tell me, Harry, how did you get here? Remus, weve always been here, but the reality that is going on now, is completely different from the reality Ron and I know. Harry sighed, his frustration clearly showing. He caught Remus staring at him with that same, patient look hed had when trying to show Harry how to conjure his Patronus for the first time. Harry took a deep breath. All I know, Remus, is that we defeated the Dark Lord and our lives have been completely different from the way things are now. Ron and I were apparating and when we appeared, we were here, in some different world. Lupin sat quietly for a moment. You have come through the looking glass, havent you? He reached down and sipped his tea. Things are very much different for you. People are here that arent in your time and people who arent here are alive in your time, right? Harry nodded. Remus stood up and started pacing the room. The easy part is to determine where things diverged from what you remember. The hard part is determining why things changed. I would suggest we figure out the easy part and then try to determine the hard part. The easy part isnt that easy, Remus. Rons voice was quiet, almost a whisper. Hed barely spoken during his entire time as he tried to wrap his mind around events. Lupin looked back at him and smiled. Because Im dead in your timeline, right? A lot of people are dead in your timeline, just like a lot of people are dead in ours. His response sent Harry and Ron reeling, at the very least confirming his statement, but stunning them at how cavalier he was about the prospect. Remus laughed sadly. I dont have any morose death wish, gentlemen, I understand your dilemma. Why would anyone in the here and now help you change things to a reality where they would be dead and gone? Thats the question, isnt it? Of course, Remus. Harry couldnt believe how open he was being. Why would you help us? Remus went to a nearby cupboard and pulled out a small photograph. He looked at it and handed it to Harry. I never got a chance to tell her how I felt.

Harry looked down at his hands and saw a quaint, old fashioned muggle photo of Nymphadora Tonks. He looked back up at Remus who smiled wistfully. Tell me one thing, Harry. Did I get the chance? Did I get to tell her? Remus stared at Harry, as if he would be able to tell if he was lying. You did, Remus. In fact, you married her and you had a son. Harrys thoughts went to Teddy, another casualty lost in this timeline. A son? Splendid. Then helping you will be worth it, Harry, even if I die. At least I wont have any regrets. Ill have accomplished my hearts desire, which is to tell her what I felt and to have her feel the same way. Thats worth even five more minutes of life, Harry. Believe me. I do, Remus. So, where do we start? Harry sat down. Remus sat as well. Lets see how far back we can go. I suggest we start at the Battle of Hogwarts and make our way back to the day you died. *** I dont appreciate lies, Pansy. Twelve of my Death eaters are dead and I dont have time for fantasy stories. The sound of flesh hitting flesh rebounded through the room as Dracos hand met Pansy Parkinsons cheek. Draco was momentarily surprised as he saw his father enter the interrogation room, but he recovered quickly and turned his attention to the pathetic figure of the woman slumped in the chair across the table. Draco, a word, if I may? Lucius voice was calm and even but Draco sensed a hint of something else in the request and turned to follow his father out of the room. They went into an open cubicle located nearby. Draco gave a contemptuous snort. Irritating woman; she honestly believes that the ghosts of Potter and Weasley were responsible for the attack on my people in Diagon Alley. I know it was that Fred Weasley, but she seems fixated on the Potter angle. Lucius remained quiet for a moment, drawing a concerned stare from his son. He took a deep breath. Her story corroborates what Crabbe said. Crabbe? Where is that fool, anyway? When I hadnt heard from him, I was sure wed find his body in the rubble. Draco began to fidget. There was something his father wasnt telling him. You neednt worry about Crabbe. He displeased the Dark Lord with his cowardice, and is paying the price now as we speak. Draco nodded. Crabbe had been one of his syc ophants, since Hogwarts, but like his father, he was insipidly stupid and unerringly cowardly, so Draco didnt think hed miss him. So, youre saying shes telling the truth? Somehow, Potter and Weasley did attack my people? A tinge of anxiety entered Dracos voice. I dont know and Im not sure what the Dark Lord saw when he probed Crabbes memory. We need to see for ourselves. Lucius looked at Draco who nodded. What Parkinson provided to them was a second source of information, and in a realm where information was pivotal to survival, they needed to get a first hand account. The two men walked back into the interrogation room.

Lucius took the seat alongside Pansy, and despite his inward revulsion of being next to her, attempted his best soothing tone. Dear girl, I apologize for my sons brusqueness. He was out of line. You have always been a stalwart supporter of the Dark Lord, Im sure. Pansy reached for the life line he was giving her. Oh yes, Minister. I thank my bloodline every day that I can serve the Dark Lord. Of course you do, and youd like to help us solve this mystery, wouldnt you? She nodded furiously, a light at the end of the tunnel of pain was slowly resolving itself. Lucius looked back at Draco who handed his father a small, blue glass vial. Share the memory with us, let us see that you are telling the truth. Her acquiescence was slower, but she nodded once more. Lucius drew his wand and tapped her temple, drawing a plasma-like blue stream from her head and pointing it to the vial. Slowly, the stream imbedded itself in the vessel and when done, Lucius replaced the stopper in the top. See, Draco? She wants to be helpful. Why dont we let Ms. Parkinson go on her way? Lucius clung tightly to the memory, wanting to not seem too eager, but ready to witness what had happened. I dont know, father, she is a material witness to a crime against the state. Draco had no intention of holding her, but he was playing his role. She is loyal, Draco, I think we can rely on Ms. Parkinson to not disappear. She wouldnt want to display disloyalty by fleeing, would she? He looked at Pansy, who nodded furiously, afraid to speak. Very well. Draco turned to Pansy. Be available, Pansy. I wont be so lenient next time. She practically bolted from her chair and ran from the room. Lucius raised an eyebrow at his son. My office. I have Dumbledores old Pensieve there. Lucius rose and followed his son out the door. When they reached Dracos office, Lucius shut a nd locked the door and walked through the sparsely decorated space to the large stone urn behind Dracos utilitarian desk. It swirled with misty vapors in various shades of blue and red. He unstopped the vial and gently poured it into the middle of the fog and looked at his son. They both followed the track of the new memory and allowed it to pull them into the middle of the Death eater gathering place. They found themselves in the middle of the pub when the door suddenly exploded. The confusing sounds of spells and battle jarred their senses. It had been many years since either had been engaged in a pitched fight and the sounds and the sights made them rear back. They watched as the two figures in black entered the room and began their systematic destruction and mayhem. They stood transfixed when they heard Ron Weasleys voice shout his warning to Potter and Draco cringed before he finally yelled, Stop! The memory froze in mid-action, the figures standing like statues and spells halted in mid-air. Draco walked to where the Potter figure stood and pointed at the brilliant silver shield on his breast. Thats an Aurors shield. There are no more Aurors and it looks like Potter and Weasley, but I dont remember them being this good in a fight. Potter was always a coward. This cant be them. Draco looked over at his father, who was stroking his chin in thought.

Maybe, maybe not. If it isnt them, who are they? Theyre fighting much better than were used to seeing from the rebels. If it is them, where have they been and how did they come back? Either way, the Dark Lord wants you to track them down, Draco. He was disturbed by this image. Lucius brooded over the image. I dont blame him father. The thing is, if it is them, then they know the truth. Draco said anxiously. The truth about what? They know that I didnt kill Dumbledore because I froze. The story that had been circulated was that Snape had killed Dumbledore because hed gotten there first and the Death eaters that ha d been around to witness the event were all dead. Dont speak of that ever again. Our task is to find these interlopers and deal with them, before their existence becomes widely known. Lucius felt a deep sensation of doubt creeping into his being. The reappearance of Potter, especially could prove to be an event that could bring down everything theyd worked for. Draco stood and stared at the Potter image, the fierce green eyes and the telltale scar both spoke to him as did the sheer brutality of the cutlass cutting through his people. Whoever this was had proven to be extremely ruthless and efficient. They would not go down easily, but another thought crossed his mind. You know father, this might also be an opportunity. In what way? Lucius snapped from his own contemplative state. This will allow us to use much more aggressive methods. We can also use this as a way to remove Umbridge and her Inquistors from the picture. Draco had a seething hatred for the diminutive woman who had spent the better part of her career trying advance her own agenda at the expense of the Malfoys. All in good time, Draco. Remember, however, that if you fail to find and kill these people, the ramifications for all of us would be profound. This image has the Dark Lord frightened. I havent seen him like this since before our victory. You would do well to keep your focus on your task. I shall deal with the Umbridge problem myself. Draco nodded slowly and returned his gaze to the frozen figures in the m emory. They are as good as dead, father. Chapter 189 Divergence Remus Lupin had lost count of the number of cups of tea that hed had. Slughorn seemed to be ever present, refilling his draining cup. While Harry and Ron seemed to be growing weary, Remus seemed to be steadily growing stronger as they wound their way through the narrative of history from their own points of view. Fascinating. Remus placed his cup and saucer down carefully on the side table and leaned forward in his chair, his elbows resting on his knees. It seems to me that your death in this era is the linchpin of the story. Thats quite obvious. It would appear that we need to go into that part of the story to see what happened. That seems to make sense. So the question is, how did we die? Ron, at first, had been reluctant to take part in this process, his sorrow over the revelations and his sadness over missing his own life had been somewhat depressing. As they had made their way through the

storyline, however, he seemed to be somewhat more interested, as if, they were finally making progress to their ultimate goal. Remus sat back and placed his hand on his chin. Well, it happened at Bill and Fleurs wedding. The Death eaters made their move on the Ministry and murdered Minister Scrimgour. They decided that the wedding was a good place to take out a significant portion of Dumbledores allies. I was there, so were a lot of other people. They launched a surprise attack on the wedding party. For what its worth, you both fought well. In fact, both of you died protecting someone, but the assault was overwhelming. Harry, you were taken out by Rabastan Lestrange while he was trying to kill Ginny. The duel was one for the record books and only a wayward blast destroyed the canopy of the wedding pavilion, and you were pierced by some of the shrapnel. Even then, you took out both Carrows who were trying to take Ginny away. Remus sighed and looked at Ron. When Harry went down, Ron, you went to pry him out of there and Hermione went with you. You practically leveled Thorfinn Rowle. Honestly, there wasnt even a scrap of his robes left when you were done. Hermione tried to pull you away, to escape, I suspect, but then your mother and father and Bill and Fleur were overwhelmed and you just lost your mind. You dove into the middle of a crowd of Death eaters and killed another three or four of them before you were hit by several Killing Curses. George, seeing what was going on, tossed Peruvian Blackness Powder around, hoping to allow people the chance to escape. Fred, Percy and Charlie started getting people out of there, but George was hit by a stray curse and was killed. The rest of us got out of there. Harrys lips pursed together and he shook his head. Thats not how it happened at all. Kingsley got a warning out to us. It gave us the time to get out and the numbers of Death eaters seems way too high. We escaped and no one was killed. Thats when we started our Horcrux hunt. Remus eyebrows rose. Kingsley Shacklebolt? Of course, who did you think I meant? Harry was more than a little disturbed at the outcome. That is interesting. You see, when the Death eaters took over the Ministry, their first targets were the Aurors. After killing Scrimgour, they called the Aurors in and placed them under arrest. From what I hear, Kingsley and Nymphadora fought back. For a time, they were successful, and were on their way out, but Kingsley was hit by a freak curse. He died immediately. Tonks and Dawlish went down trying to recover his body. Remus scratched his chin thoughtfully. Thats it, I imagine. The divergence was Kingsleys warning and the fight at the Ministry. I suspect that if the Aurors got out, that would have diluted the number of available Death eaters. Combine that with the amount of warning you had to escape the wedding party, we now know where the differences started. But why? What caused the change? Harry rubbed his eyes, both from frustration and exhaustion. I dont know. Remus replied somberly. Slughorn cleared his throat. Easily the oldest wizard in the room, he had a thoughtful look on his face and had a wistful smile on his face. There might be someone we can ask. Remus stared at him. Well, come on, out with it. Slughorn shrugged his shoulders. Well, when I was still in Hogwarts, there was a group of banned wizards that called themselves the Illuminati Scientia.

Oh no. Ron couldnt help but groan. Youve heard of them? Slughorn asked. Harry smiled balefully. Yes. Alfred Nobel, Albert Einstein, H.G. Wells and some others. There was a muggle billionaire that liked to use some of their gadgets. Harry remembered his interrogation sessions with Simon Clark. He shuddered at the thought. Ron, for his part, remembered the assault on Clarks headquarters in Berlin. Hed killed someone that night, by simply dropping him from an eighty story height. Ah good. Well, one of them is still alive. Nicola Tesla? Harry asked. Yes, but then again, you know these things. Anyway, Tesla was a tinkerer. He liked to fashion muggle devices that had magical purposes. Slughorn said. We know. Harry sighed. One of his devices muted magical powers. Its what brought them to our attention in the first place. Slughorn nodded thoughtfully. Well, I was thinking, Tesla is the foremost authority on magical items that I know. Maybe we should ask him? Harry sat silently. He knew Tesla from his own time, his own experiences. Hed been instrumental in helping the Aurors rescue Harry, but what changes had this timeline wrought in the man. Remus nodded. Well, I dont see how that would hurt. It sounds like a good idea. Ron snorted. I guess were supposed to waltz right into Azkaban and ask to see him. Harry watched as Remus looked at Slughorn curiously. The older wizard smiled in apology. Hes in Azkaban. They were so close and yet completely out of reach of a solution. Harry took a deep breath. I guess were just going to have to break him out. Ive missed that about you Harry, there was never a dull moment with you around. Remus stood and smiled. You always seemed to have such interesting adventures. A voice broke into their merriment. Adventure? Are going somewhere? Fre d stood in the foyer with a quizzical look on his face. The rest of the room broke into laughter, their tension palpable as they contemplated their task. *** Fred side-along apparated them to what appeared to be an isolated country home. The house sat on an open plot nestled on a small, sloping moor. It was a large home crafted from red brick and a wisp of smoke swirled from the chimney out into the darkening sky. Fred walked purposefully up the brick inlaid walk and knocked quietly on the large, oak front door. The door opened and he led them inside. He turned to the pair and smiled. We tend to move around from place to place, but every once in a while, we happen upon some good people who will take us in for a spell. He held out his arms wide. This place belongs to one of Deans maternal uncles. It amazes me sometimes, for all of Voldemorts drivel about being pure blood and tracing blood lines, they never seem to really

try to dig deep into their enemies family histories. Put your things down, I expect you feel a bit exhausted. Youve had quite a day. Harry laughed and dropped his bag down by the front door. He unclipped his robe and slid out his arms. He hung it on a nearby coat rack. He walked into the living room, where Colin and Ernie were playing backgammon and Dean sat reading a muggle detective novel. The scene seemed surreal given the real danger these people lived in day after day. Dean looked up, his one eye gleaming with humor. Hungry? Ron spoke up before Harry. Famished. Help yourself. Across the hall from the living room was a well appointed dining room with a large repast laid out. Harry had forgotten how hungry he was and walked with Ron to the table and grabbed a plate. Fred was not too far behind. They piled warm food on their plates and sat down at the table. We raised quite a stir today. Fred said between mouthfuls of chicken and roast beef. How so? Harry asked as he speared a piece of asparagus with his fork. The Ministry is clamping down hard on the street. Apparently someone believes that there is a Harry Potter imposter running around. There was a distinct note of glee in Freds voice. Funny, though, its just the Death eaters. The Inquisitors arent making a sound. Inquisitors? Ron asked. Oh, I forgot. Your friend Umbridge is head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. She created this group called Inquisitors. Like her Inquisitorial Squad at school? Harry flinched at the mention of Umbridges name. In a way. They are more like a secret police or rat squad. They sneak around and try to find people violating the blood purity edicts. They and Umbridge do not get along with Draco. Its a power thing. He paused to take a pull from a tall glass nearby. Ron nodded. Why doesnt someone drop a hint to one of these Inquisitors about what the Death eaters are doing? Wont that cause some mayhem? You know, thats not a bad idea. Umbridge has been trying to take down Draco for as long as hes been there. That just might work. Fred looked over at Colin, whod overheard the conversation. The thin man smiled and nodded. Fred turned back to Harry and Ron. So whats this I heard at Remus house about going on an adventure? Harry shared a quick look with Ron, which Fred did not fail to notice. Come on, you two. If you cant trust me, who can you trust? Its me, Fred. His playful tone and winning smile struck a chord of pain in Ron, who looked down as if studying the food on the table for seconds. Harry nodded. Well, weve determined where we diverged from our time. It was at Bill and Fleurs wedding when Ron and I died. Harry was choosing his words carefully. Fred chortled. Well thats obvious, because youre not dead now. That was easy.

Harry was a little embarrassed. Well, we might have a line on someone that can help us find out how it happened. Thats great! Well find this guy and youll be on your way! Freds mood had lifted considerably from earlier in the day. The problem isnt finding him. We already know where he is. Ron answered Fred, his voice low. All right then, Ill bite. Whats the difficulty? You know where he is. Hes alive, whats the problem? Who is he? Fred looked back and forth between the two of them. Harry cleared his throat. His name is Nicola Tesla. Harry took a quick look around and lowered his voice. Hes a prisoner at Azkaban. Ron and I have to go break him out. Fred had been in the middle of drinking from his cup. When Harry spoke, he choked on the liquid, spraying it across the table. Break him out of Azkeban? Are you daft? His voice carried throughout the house, causing the occupants in the living room to look over. No, were not. Dont worry, Fred, Ron and I can handle this on our own. You dont have to risk your people for this. Harry seemed a little put out at Freds reaction. Harry, we dont even know where Azkaban is. Fred tried to reason with Harry. Harry would not be deterred. He pointed to himself and Ron. We do, Fred. Were Aurors, remember? We know where it is and how to get there. Dean had walked in from the living room. Harry, even if you know how to get there, its a fortress. Itd be impossible to break anyone out of there. Oh, I dont know, Dean. Ron leaned back in his chair, more determined than ever to leave this timeline. It seems to me when Voldemort was trying to regain power, people were breaking out of Azkaban all the time. Why not us? That was different. Those were Dark Wizards who didnt care about whether they hurt anyone or not. And remember, the Death eaters have had almost ten years to up the security. Fred seemed agitated at the thought of breaking into the prison. Youre talking suicide. Dean, however, had grown silent. He looked over at Harry. If we helped you, how would you do it? Harry sighed. Youre right, it wouldnt be easy, but it is possible. If we were to get help, I have an idea how to do it, but wed need Fred to make it happen. Me? Fred was still less than convinced. He looked at Dean. Why are you even entertaining this? Neville is at Azkaban. If theres even the remote chance that hes alive and we can get him out of there, Im willing to try. Not to mention the rest of our people theyre holding. Deans voice was adamant. Fred nodded slowly. Can that be done? If we help you, can we look at getting our people out, too? Harry nodded and Fred sighed. What do you need me to do?

For the first time since the conversation started, Harry smiled. Nothing really. Tell me, how good of a sweet talker are you, anyway? *** Gratefully, Harry plopped down on the bed and loosened the buttons of his tunic. He kicked off his boots with the toes of his feet and laid back on the pillows. The manor house had a number of bedrooms, which allowed them each to have their own room. He felt the knots in his back begin to ease as sheer exhaustion overcame the tension he was feeling. He must have dozed off, because he was startled by a soft knock at his door. Harry? It was her. The voice was unmistakable, soft yet filled with an iron resolve. He sat up and swung his legs around the side of the bed. Come in. The door swung open and Ginny peeked her head inside, an unsure expression on her face. I didnt mean to bother you. She walked in, seemingly thinking that shed made a mistake. Harry smiled and waved at her. Thats all right. Im just tired. Are you okay? She nodded and came further into the room. She looked around and finally settled onto the end of the bed. Harrys heart ached from her nearness, yet shed purposefully had sat as far away as possible that she could. Not really. Im confused. She seemed to be having some sort of internal argument. He so desperately wanted to touch her, to hold her, to let her know that hed always loved her and loved her still. The look on her face prevented such an impulsive response. Instead he sat still. Confused about what? Youre supposed to be dead, Harry. I cried and I grieved and then I moved on. I was mad at you, really mad at you. Her stare was sharp, critical. All he could do was nod. Why, for dying? She nodded. Partly, yes, that was part of it. Why else were you mad at me? Harry knew the answer, but then again, he and his Ginny had resolved this years ago. Because you abandoned me. You broke up with me to go on your quest and then you died. You never once thought about me and you never gave me a choice in the matter. That was damn selfish of you, Harry. Her voice was full of recrimination and he winced from the tone. I told you then, Ginny, that I did it to protect you. If I had it to do again, maybe Id do it differently, but I cant change the past. His current situation made the sheer absurdity of that statement completely obvious. The tension broke as both burst into laughter. Once they settled, he looked at her, his viridian eyes piercing hers, touching her soul. He whispered. Im sorry, Ginny. Honestly. Im sorry I broke up with you and Im sorry I left you alone.

She nodded. Then, she looked up at him and smiled. So, did Ron and Hermione ever get together? He laughed. Well, as a matter of fact, they did. They figured it out at our Battle of Hogwarts. They got married within the year. They are a perfectly matched couple. Idiots. It took them all that time to realize they loved each other. She smiled at the thought of Ron and Hermione together. There was an awkward silence and then Harry chuckled. So, you and Seamus? Interesting pairing. She nodded, a wistful look in her eyes. Yes, but he made me laugh. He was good to me, you know. We had some good times. Any children? She looked around. Living like this? Hardly. What about you? Are you married? Yes, as a matter of fact I am. Shes a nice girl. I had a thing for Lavender Brown for a while, but she dumped me for a Seeker on the Chudley Cannons. Her eyes widened in disbelief until she caught him smiling and his eyes twinkling. Youre putting me on. She smacked him playfully. You got me. Yes, Im married. Shes my perfect match, in every way. His gaze, his tone of voice, recognition suddenly dawned on Ginny. You married me, didnt you? He nodded, unsure of where this conversation was going. Ten years of memories can dim a loves remembrance. Hed always taken it for granted that he and Ginny would be together, but when that reality is dashed, what else would she have thought? She was genuinely surprised by his response. She stammered. Im sorry, Harry. I had no idea. This must be so awkward for you. Thats an understatement. He smiled once more. Its all right Ginny, really. How were you supposed to know? Still, I cant imagine what youre going through. HowHow long have y-you, I mean we been married? Almost eight years, give or take. The conversation had definitely taken a weird turn. He was talking about his wife with the woman who was, well, his wife. Ginny was definitely looking a bit comfortable. Look, Ginny, we dont have to talk about this. After all, its not the life you had. She mumbled something under her breath. What was that? Harry asked. I said, it was the life I wished for. Her face fell as if shed betrayed so me great confidence. She had a pained look on her face and Harry nodded slowly.

Its all right Ginny. Seamus was, and in my time is, an incredible person and a great friend. I dont feel betrayed and youre not betraying him. She tried to agree, but she was an emotional person, always had been, and somehow she felt like shed let both Harry and Seamus down. She stood. Id better go. He nodded. She reached for the door and started to walk out. She paused in midstride and turned to face him. Do you really have to go to Azkaban? Yes. This place is madness. Things have to be set right. He wasnt quite sure if he was talking about Voldemort or about Ginny. In the end, did it really matter? Can you do it? Can you break those people out? She studied him, looking for any hint of the anxiety or self doubt shed known in the boy she knew so long ago. Instead, she saw calmness, resolve and a large amount of confidence bordering on cockiness, which radiated through her body down to her shoes. He smiled. Yes, Im pretty sure I can. She nodded and walked out the door. In the hall, she held her hand out and noticed it shaking. She was feeling guilt, elation, fear, and love all at once and it scared her. Most of all, she felt something she hadnt felt in many years. Shed thought shed lost the capacity to feel this and now, with Harry back, it was breaking out of prison shed kept it in for so long. It frightened her more than anything else she was feeling, because up to today, it had been near impossible. Ginerva Molly Weasley Finnigan was beginning to feel hope. Chapter 190 Ex Tridens, Tentatio! From the Sea, Attack! In its day, Flourish and Blotts was the destination for wizarding Britain when they came to Diagon Alley. Over the last decade, its inventory had been depleted by the various Ministry edicts that confiscated or outright destroyed material that was deemed seditious. The stores downward spiral left it hanging on by a thread in a small, battered hovel in the bowels of Knockturn Alley. Beatrice Hopkins sighed heavily as she swept the loose floorboards of the store. She would go days on end before a customer would darken her door and she made do with her time, trying to keep busy. The small bell over the entrance door rang out, loud in the silence of the empty shop. Beatrice leaned her broom against an empty bookcase, one of many dotting the back of the store and walked up towards the front. She smoothed the pleats of her frayed light blue dress and straightened the apron affixed to her. Her long blonde hair had lost none of its luster and her clear blue eyes shone with a cool beauty that bespoke of a higher upbringing, contrary to the squalor around her. When she turned the corner, her eyes narrowed and she took a deep breath. Why, hello, Beatrice. Its been a long time. The grin on Dracos face seemed out of place with the faces of the two Death eaters that flanked him. The dark green cloaks seemed to flow up and about as if of their own volition and their faces were steely masks of contempt as they stood. Beatrice remained calm and continued walking up to the front counter. Draco. To what do I owe this pleasure? Draco looked nodded to his companions. My friends, Mortimer and Silas here, have a long held interest in literature. They know what is acceptable to good order and what is not, dont you boys?

Mortimer Gafney smiled and nodded his head slightly, his dark eyes not really looking at the books, but fixed in a steady gaze on Beatrice. Silas Hornsby hadnt moved an inch, his stare was steady, looking straight ahead. Draco smiled. They dont talk much, because some of their friends met with an unfortunate end yesterday. Id heard about that. Beatrices heart was beating out of c ontrol and she struggled to rein it in. You did? I suppose you would, since youre sympathies lie with the enemies of the state, dont they sister? His throat choked on the last word and there was an underlying sinister tone to his voice. He strode around the end of the counter, casually knocking over a display of a stack of History of Magic textbooks. Still, that hasnt been proven, has it? He paused and then looked over at Beatrice. Your sister is dismayed that you havent been by to meet your nephew and niece. Your parents are quite proud of them. Im sure they are lovely children, but given Dominas position on my status, I would think that my presence would not be welcomed in your home. Through Dominas declaration, Beatrice had been deemed a blood traitor, mostly through her association with Neville Longbottom. Indeed. Youre probably right. Draco sighed. But, family is important, isnt it? What do you want, Draco? Despite her terror, there was a trace of steel in he r voice. Her knuckles were white from her grip on the front counter. Draco looked around the store. Yes, I can see we are keeping you from your customers. This brought a snicker from Mortimer. Draco laughed at his own joke. Well, to business, I suppose. There is a rumor that your boyfriends old acquaintances have found themselves some allies. These allies bear a remarkable resemblance to a pair of old classmates of mine. We cant have that. Beatrice remained silent. Shed seen the two strangers that Fred had with him, but it wasnt until much later that shed put their faces with her memory of the articles from a time past. Shed chosen to believe that their resemblance to the legendary heroes was purely coincidental, but Dracos appearance here told her that shed been wrong. I dont understand what youre talking about, Draco. Draco slammed his hand down on the counter, causing her to jump. You know, Beatrice, you shouldnt lie to family, its unseemly. Somehow, with her attention fixed on Draco, she didnt notice Mortimer and Silas move up behind her until each grabbed a shoulder. Dracos eyes softened and he stepped back. I think we should have a nice quiet family chat. Id love to know where I might find Fred Weasley, so that, we can put this whole episode behind us. He turned and walked towards the door. Without looking back, he commanded. Bring her. Then he walked out the door into the rain soaked alley. *** The cat in the window mewled with delight as the shopper tapped on the glass. Its reaction caused a burst of giggling and cooing from the short, frumpy woman in the loud pink overcoat and matching pillbox hat. She reached a stubby finger to the window and wiggled it in front of the kitten, drawing an even more animated reaction from both the feline and the woman. The woman

smiled, she simply had to have this animal. As she contemplated a way to appropriate the kitten, she heard a voice clear its throat behind her. Ahem, Professor Umbridge? The voice was small, so when Delores Umbridge turned, she expected to see a child or a small man. Instead, she was greeted by the sight of a tall, broadchested man that seemed to blot out what little light trickled down onto the street. He wore a shabby, torn shirt that pulled across his chest and seemed to be form fitted around his muscular arms. His jeans were less frayed, but tight against his quadriceps and calves. The manmountain had a gentle smile and stayed a respectful distance back from the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. I know Im a mudblood, Professor, but this flyer says I should talk to you about anything that may be a threat to us all. His large hand practically engulfed the rolled up paper. It was, of course, printed on pink stationary and had a residual rose scent. The man seemed familiar to Umbridge. Yes, of course. And you are? Dennis Creevey, Professor. I was one of your students at Hogwarts. Dennis smiled sheepishly and shuffled his feet to appear non-threatening. Yes, yes, Mr. Creevey. I remember you. You said you had something for me? Umbridge had no earthly idea who this man was, and being this close to a mudblood was enough to send her into fits, but she held her ground. Yes, Professor. Its just that, there is a rumor around that the Ministry is looking for people that are impersonating Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. The names brought a chill to Umbridges psyche, she completely forgot about the kitten and focused on the man in front of he r. Thats impossible, I know, Professor. Both Ron and Harry are dead, but the Death eaters insist that we know about some sort of resurrection. Umbridge eyed the man, Dennis, was that his name? Shed seen both Malfoys together yesterday and there was a flurry of activity by the accursed Death eaters after the terrorist attack one of their brothels. Details about the attack were sketchy at best, but if this wretchs information was correct, there was more to this attack than first thought. Investigations were the purview of the Inquisitors and her office, why was Malfoy and his son keeping this away from her? Are you sure about this information, young man? Her mind wrestled with both the idea that Potter was still alive and the fact that Malfoy was trying to keep it from her. Yes, Professor. He held out a couple of pictures with the Ministry and Death eater seal on them. They are distributing these around where I work. The photos appeared to be class pictures of both Harry and Ron which were magically conjured to age them to their likenesses of today. Umbridge pursed her lips and reached a pudgy hand into her purse. She looked at Dennis. Why are you telling me this, Mr. Creevey? Dennis gave his best hopeless face. Im just trying to fit in, Professor. We cant go back to the past, and the notion that someone is trying to use Harry and Ron to start some sort of war will only cause more pain for me and my kind. He shrugged his shoulders. The Dark Lord won, why prolong the agon y? Umbridge nodded. It was unfortunate that this man was muggle born. He had a good head on his shoulders. Instead, she reached up and dropped a galleon in his palm. Youre quite right. Ill look into this at once. She turned immediately and wadd led down the street, intent on getting to the nearest floo.

Dennis gripped the galleon and walked the opposite way. He whistled a tune to himself as he contemplated the chaos hed just created. He almost wished he was pure -blooded, just to see the goings on at the Ministry once the ambitious Delores Umbridge got back. It would be interesting, to say the least. *** The North Sea raged in the darkness as the black storm clouds hovered and poured a relentless rain onto the surface. The waves roiled in anger and white caps crashed over the prow of the ancient sailing ship. The ketch Discooperire battled the merciless elements, its sails reefed for stormy weather and most of the crew and her passengers nestled below decks. On the high quarterdeck, Lockley held tight to the ships wheel, which stood a full head taller than her while Harry stood next to her, a rope tied tightly to his waist. Around his neck, a battered old compass swung back and forth, but every so often hed consult it and point in a dire ction off the bow and Lockley would make a correction. Both fought to keep their feet in the tumult and guide the ship to its destination. In the Captains wardroom, a pitiful collection of Order members, ships crew and Ron Weasley struggled to keep their wits and their lunch in place as the vessel fought the elements. If anything happens to my ship, you will pay dearly, mi amor. Baretto seemed the least bothered by the rolling of floor and sat contentedly in her chair. Fred sat next to her, his face a decided shade of green. Fred nodded and looked around the room. Colin, Dean, Padma Patil, Remus Lupin and Horace Slughorn were in various states of discomfort while Ron hovered over a bucket in the corner. The only member of the Order that seemed not to be bothered by the voyage was Ginny, who seemed to be dozing in one of the hammocks suspended from the ceiling. Tell me again, how Harry knows where were going? Fred gripped the table, which was bolted to the floor. His question was directed to Ron, who managed to pull his head up. Ron removed a small compass from around his neck and tossed to Fred, who managed to catch it. Between retches, Ron recounted what Harry had told the team before they left Plymouth. In our time, Aurors still have responsibility for Azkaban, including transporting the prisoners there. Team leaders and senior Aurors are given that compass which guides us to the prison. Of course, the journey is a lot smoother. Another knot of queasiness assaulted his stomach an d Ron buried his head back into the bucket. Dean smiled wanly. Obviously, you dont have Dementers mucking up the weather like we do. If Dean was expecting Ron to answer, he was disappointed as Ron surrendered to the pitching motion of the ship. Fred momentarily forgot his discomfort as he twirled the compass around in his hand. Baretto placed a reassuring hand on Freds. You are having a difficult time believing all this. She smiled, her concern etched on her face. Fred shrugged his shoulders. I dont know what to believe. On the one hand, it isnt hard to accept that things arent right in the world, but on the other hand, some things I just cant help but feel are totally the way they should be. Fred gripped the compass in his hand. Like what? Baretto knew, but liked to hear him talk. Fred laughed. You and me, for example. Theres something completely right about that. She smiled, knowing full well thats what she wanted to hear.

The door to the cabin swung open, allowing the bellow of the storm and the wetness from the rain to cascade inside. A dark, robed figure swung the door close and shook itself dry. Harry removed his hood and allowed the water to dribble from his clothing onto the deck. Strangely, his glasses were free of water, a remnant from the spell Hermione had taught him so many years ago. He looked around and paused as his eyes met Ginnys, then he stumbled to the table as he fought the pitch of the deck. Finally, he found a seat and plopped down gratefully. He gratefully accepted a mug of mead from Baretto and looked over at Fred. After a long pull on the drink which sent warmness down his chest he nodded his head. Were almost there. Id say another hour or so. The island wont be in sight until were right on it. You might want to get youre people ready. Harry drank down the last of his drink and noticed the impending action seemed to settle Rons stomach. He was immediately up and about, readying his kit for action. For the umpteenth time, Fred shook his head. Are you sure this will work, Harry? Were taking a huge gamble here. Im sure well get in. Without knowing what to expect, I have no idea what will happen once were there. We can count on them being orderly, the Dark Lord love t he trains to run on time, but it all depends on how many people they have locked up there. I simply dont know if we can accommodate them all. Harry wiped the last bits of loose water from his shoulders. No one ever comes back from Azkaban, Harry. We simply dont know whos left. Fred seemed troubled, yet his shoulders were square as he readied himself. Harry nodded. All we can do is be ready. Ron and I will lead and well work it out from there. Fred nodded. Something Harry said echoed in his head. They had no idea how many prisoners they would find, sixty or six hundred. What would happen if they had to leave some of them behind? He felt a cold chill as the weight of leadership held his shoulders down. In the end, hed have to make that decision and every time he did, Fred felt a little piece of himself chip away. *** The count is seventy-four, including the addition of Mr. Crabbe, Madame Warden. The faceless Death eater bowed and walked away from the reception area of the prison. The warden was a stout, broad shouldered woman with a square jaw and dark black hair. She gave a small nod of her head, acknowledging the report. She turned and walked down one of the corridors towards her office and made her way to her desk. One thing was for certain, being the Azkaban warden during the reign of the Dark Lord was not a boring job. Ships kept coming, bearing Macnair or someone of his ilk, who would surrender a prisoner for safe keeping or worse. It surprised her that so many people could come in, and yet, after ten years, she still only had seventy four prisoners. She laughed to herself. Millicent Bulstrode was not a pretty woman. She knew that, but she was fiercely loyal. She served the Dark Lord and the Ministry, that was certain, but she was intensely devoted to Draco Malfoy. That was why she held her current position, because she did whatever Draco told her. If she got a note that a certain inmate was to conveniently die of natural causes, then it happened, no questions asked. It made her job easier. Her eyes drifted to two special files resting on her desk. Prisoner 1 and Prisoner 455 were her special case prisoners. The old man, Prisoner 1, had been locked up well before the Dark Lord had appeared on the scene, but instructions from the Ministry and from Draco and Delores Umbridge, were to keep him safe, fed and isolated. She had no idea who he was or what hed done, all she knew was that his knowledge was important and he

was to be kept alive. She knew Prisoner 455 very well. Neville Longbottom was no longer the bumbling idiot she remembered from Hogwarts. He was, in fact, a very dangerous man. If shed had her way, hed have received the Dementers kiss and be done with, but Draco wanted to break him and do so personally. On a personal level, Millicent hoped that Longbottom would take a while to break, because he provided an excuse for Draco to visit the prison. She knew that Draco didnt even think about her, but his proximity during his torture sessions of Nev ille made her pulse race. She was astounded at Longbottoms ability to resist the Cruciatus Curse. Draco put everything into the sessions, short of killing him, and still Neville resisted succumbing to the fate of his parents. Somehow, he found a strong mental center that allowed him to resist. Still, Millicent could tell that Longbottom was reaching the end of his reservoir of strength. Maybe not tomorrow, but soon, Neville Longbottoms mind would surrender itself and leap off the precipice of sanity it so desperately clung to. She knew it had to happen, because Draco had said so, and what Draco said, she believed. A small tap on her door caused her to break out of her reflections. One of her faceless, nameless Death eaters stood there, a black, metallic mask hiding his features. Theres a ship approaching, Madame Warden. Its flying the Ministry colors. Millicent rose from her desk and adjusted her robes. Given the number of people who still chose to defy the Dark Lord, she was no longer surprised by the sudden appearance of a ship bearing more human cargo for her care. She was slightly annoyed, since she liked having less than eighty prisoners. She was paid to care and feed one hundred and she liked pocketing the money left over. She strode down the hall, past the reception desk where four Dementers hovered. She walked out onto the landing platform that hung on the side of the prison wall, a canvas overhang providing scant protection from the roiling elements. She squinted and watched the black-hulled vessels approach; the Dark Lords mark brightly adorned the front sail of the ship. It was larger than most of the ships the Ministry sent and she was a trifle annoyed. A larger ship probably meant a larger number of prisoners. Silently, she went through her mental roster of prisoners, identifying those that were weaker and could probably be eliminated without a fuss. Her mind tarried on the Patil woman, was it Padma? She couldnt remember. Millicent was sure she could pare down her population by at least a dozen before the week ended. Reassured, she watched the ship approach. It glided out of the water and made a wide, sweeping arc towards the platform. Millicent Bulstrode chuckled to herself. Yes. Her job was never boring. She pulled at her robes and cloak and quietly hoped that Draco was coming for another personal session with Neville Longbottom. She looked back behind her, down the hall, past the reception desk. At the end of the far hall, there was a pair of doors, locked tight. She felt a tinge of terror as she contemplated what was housed behind the door. Draco had insisted that she have a contingency plan in place, should anyone seek to assault the prison. Every time a ship approached the prison, she had the main locks removed from the doors, leaving the latch the only thing keeping its contents in check. This was the most distressing part of any visit. Now, as every time, she said a quick wish, hoping nothing amiss will happen, so she could bolt the door more securely. She turned around and waited as the ship called the Discooperire made its final approach to the landing. Chapter 191 Prison Break Level One of the Ministry of Magic consisted of a tall, long hallway with light wood paneling with several reception alcoves with their own receptionists and banks of offices hanging off the main

hallway. The level was typically reserved for the higher level officials and heads of the individual departments within the Ministry. There was a hierarchy of office s pace, where an officials perceived position was reflected by the size and opulence of the office they appropriated. Clearly, the Minister of Magic had the most expansive space and the largest staff, but his underlings often vied for the coveted remaining space as they jockeyed for most-favored status. Over the past decade, as Lucius Malfoy consolidated his position as Minister, he found that he was engaged in a game that there were clearly better players from the surviving bureaucracy. Ideological fervor passed quickly, and was immediately supplanted by politics. Cornelius Fudge made a play for position, but was quickly outflanked by the more subtle machinations of Delores Umbridge who had a better understanding of the game and Lucius Malfoy, who wielded power derived from the Dark Lord. This meant that there were three completely disparate factions at play within the Ministry and this infighting was actively encouraged by Voldemort to keep his minions at each others throats instead of planning a general uprising. The first faction was led by Malfoy, who placed his son at the head of the Death eaters and his daughter-in-law at the head of the Ministrys liaison with the International Confederation of Wizards. Umbridge and her followers were installed to head the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, which not only looked to the enforcement of the pure-blood edicts, but had a considerable hand in the crafting of those laws within the Wizengamot. She also had a strong ally in the head of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes which included the Oblivator Squad and Accidental Reversal Squad. This gave her control over both the blood laws and enforcement as well as most of the direct muggle interfaces from the Ministrys point of view. The last faction was a loose collection of those who were unaligned, under the leadership of Cornelius Fudge, who was the head of the Department of Magical Games and Sport, with assistance from the Department of Magical Transportation and the Department of the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures and their respective department heads. As it stood, the largest offices on Level One were occupied by the Minister and Domina Malfoy, but Delores Umbridge was a close second. She enviously eyed the large office suites at the end of the hallway and had spent a good amount of her time and energy trying to displace the Malfoy familys hold on power. She sat back in her high back, leather chair and took a quick look around her well-appointed office. Her collection of saucers with their kitten images mewled merrily back at her and she reached to her desk and placed a pudgy finger through the loop of the fresh cup of tea sitting on another saucer. Her eye fell on the pictures shed received from Dennis Creev ey and creased her eyebrows in annoyance. Potter and Weasley were dead, of that she was sure, still the notion that their doppelgangers were out and about causing trouble was disturbing. Even more so, the fact that Malfoy and his brat were keeping this information secret was causing her a certain amount of disdain. Still, this provided an excellent opportunity to act. What she needed was information. There was a slight tapping on her door and she closed her eye briefly. Her mind reached out to the large orb that was mounted on her door. Mad Eye Moody was gruff and had no real perception of which side would win. Hed been a crusader, but his eye was a useful instrument and it told her that the visitor shed been waiting for was here. Enter, please. Her small, squeaky voice made its way to the hall. The door opened and a tall, masked man in bright red satin robes walked into her office. He bowed at the waist and waited patiently for her to acknowledge his presence. She gave a slight wave of her hand. The woman you requested is here, Minister. The Inquis itors voice was a deep baritone with a slight muffling from the mask. Send her in, please. Umbridge enjoyed the deference the Inquisitors squad gave her. It was the most overt indication of her power. The Inquisitor bowed once more and gestured to the open door. The woman walked in tentatively and glanced up at the menacing figure of the man. He looked back at Umbridge and then left the room, closing the door behind him. Umbridge made a

show of reviewing some reports while the woman fidgeted. After a few minutes of silence, Umbridge looked up and gave a sickly, sweet smile. Oh, my dear, please come in. Well get along famously, you know. Would you like some tea? Umbridges demeanor caught the woman off guard and she took the proffered seat in front of the massive desk. Delores poured a small cup of tea and placed it in front of the woman. She then sat down and clapped her hands together. Pansy Parkinson, its been so long since weve had a chance to chat. I hear you have quite the story to tell and I so want to hear it. One lump of sugar or two? *** Azkaban Prison was, essentially, one large, square block of stone and mortar rising from a rocky finger of land in the middle of the North Sea. It stood almost thirty stories high with high, square spires rising from each of its four corners. The southern wall was highlighted by the landing platform where various ships and other vessels alit to deposit their prisoners and the top level was a solid mass of slate and stone. In the very middle of the prison, there was a square chimney that allowed ventilation to pass to the various levels. Since Millicent Bulstrode had taken over stewardship of the facility, the access to this chimney had been limited to the levels that actually had prisoners on them, which was two, the main reception level and the next level up. Sealing off the other levels saved money and limited access to the prison from the chimney. Bulstrode stood still as the Discooperire made its approach to the landing. The ship drew alongside the open quay to a point where a large door affixed to the center of the ship was even with the entrance to the prison. The sound of creaking rope and tackle highlighted the doors lowering onto the lip of the landing, revealing the grim visage of Captain Baretto to the prisons custodian. Baretto stepped forward, flanked by Lockley and Muireall. I have a custody transfer for these prisoners from the Ministry of Magic. Baretto presented a thin cylindrical leather case to Bulstrode, who motioned the captain inside, out of the elements. Bulstrode flipped open the top of the case and slid the rolled parchment out. Carefully, she unrolled the parchment and took a quick scan of the contents. She did a quick double take and peered into the opening of the ship. Thats quite a haul. The Inquisitors found them? Normally, her complement of prisoners was sent to her with document from Draco. This form had Delores Umbridges signature and seal, and what was more, the names of the prisoners were a whos who of the rebellion. Bulstrode made a mental note to forward this on to Draco at the earliest possible moment. Word of the internecine struggle between Umbridge and Draco had reached even the farthest edges of the world, like the prison of Azkaban. Bulstrode beckoned the crew of the Discooperire that guarded the four prisoners to bring them forward. She smiled with delicious delight as she confirmed the names to the familiar faces. Dean Thomas, Ernie Macmillan, Colin Creevey, and the man of the hour, Fred Weasley. We have a school reunion. Welcome to Azkaban, gentlemen. Bulstrode was positively gleeful, but she felt a tinge of anxiety. There was no way that Draco knew about these men. If he had, hed have personally escorted them here. Something was amiss in the Ministry, she suspected and then another thought struck her. Draco would definitely reward her when she got the news of the capture to him. She wondered to herself, would Draco allow her the privilege of disposing of them? She looked to her Death eater and Dementor guards. Bring them to processing. Bulstrode wheeled on her heels and walked boldly into the prison, the prisoners, their guards and a complement of the Discooperires crew following close behind. Fred kept his head low, his eyes tracing their progress and watching the back of the warden, every so often looking to the

center of the hallway where a large metal grate allowed air to flow into the prison from the shaft down its center. Anytime now, Harry. Fred thought to himself as he felt the reassuring presence of his wand underneath the sleeve of his tunic. Where are they? *** Harry leaned forward on his broom and took a brief glimpse behind him. Flying in a tight veeshaped formation, the group was barely atop the crests of the violent sea below. They approached the prison from its northern wall, having swept around and behind the wide arcing turn of the Discooperire. To his right, Ron flew confidently, keeping a close eye on their approach for any sign of detection, while Ginny, Remus and another of the Order kept a tight formation. Once they reached within a hundred feet of the prison, Harry pulled up, flying vertically up the sides of the walls until he reached the top and then angled them downward towards the entrance to the shaft. With a quick signal, the team formed up single file behind him and followed down into the wet confines of the chimney. *** Something was nagging at Millicent as she led her new charges down the hall. It was unusual, but not uncommon for the Inquisitors to send her prisoners. It was unheard of, however, for one of the crimson robed enforcers to not accompany them to the prison, regardless of the method of transportation. She made a slight move with her hand and as they reached the central junction of the wall, where the reception desk was located, a phalanx of Death eaters backed by an equal number of Dementors surrounded the prisoners and their erstwhile guards. Its not that I dont trust you, but, well, I dont trust you. Millicents eyes narrowed as she studied the shocked expression on Barettos face. I dont see any Inquisitors among you, and they are sticklers for protocol. Baretto didnt bat an eye. We have an Inquisitor with us, but hes sick on the ship. Feel free to send someone to bring him, but I warn you, hes not in any mood to be social. Ill do that. Even Inquisitors know that procedure is procedure. In the mean time, search them. Millicent pointed to the prisoners. As her Death eaters approached, Fred tensed at the ready, his false manacles loose on his wrists. Things were not going as planned. Suddenly, the grate from the ventilation shaft exploded violently in a flurry of smoke and fire. Millicent fell to the ground from the concussive force. She peered through the smoke as her dazed ears started ringing from the sound of spells being cast and blades passing through flesh. Her vision cleared as the bright light and fog of a powerful Patronus cast her Dementors to the side. She felt a hand on her shoulder as one of her masked Death eaters pulled her away as they fought off the assault. With the smoke clearing, she took quick stock of the situation. More Death eaters were pouring in from the other parts of the prison as a caterwaul charm went off alerting to trouble. She peered at the center of the hallway, and noticed two figures at the forefront of the fight. They were dressed in all black and were cutting through her Death eaters both literally, with their blades and figuratively as the shock and brutality of the assault took their toll. She held her breath. It cant be! Its impossible! Theyre dead! Draco said they were dead! She ignored her disorientation. In front of her, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley were pushing back her forces, backed up by the intruders from the ship. The so called prisoners were free, and were rapidly opening the cell doors behind them, releasing the prisoners within and shepherding them to the

ship. She reached within the folds of her robes and pulled out a small rams horn. She blew into it, calling for the Dementors to make their presence felt. At the end of one of the passageways, scores of the infernal creatures began pouring through an opening, driving relentlessly towards the embattled raiders. Cautiously, Millicent looked behind her, at the door that stood still and ready for her command. She shuddered, hoping the Dementors would be enough, but a chill went through her body as she realized the consequences of opening the door. *** Harry moved with vicious efficiency, dispatching his foes rapidly. He looked behind him. Fred and Ginny were leading freeing prisoners at a prodigious rate, but he had the feeling that the more important detainees were in the hallway Millicent and her forces were holding. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the flash black movement as a solid block of Dementors made their entrance. He looked over at Ron and Baretto, who were fighting side by side. Ill handle the Dementors. You take care of Bulstrode and the rest of her cronies. Harry turned and aimed his cutlass down the side passage, at the advancing horde of Dementors. He gave a whispered command and his Patronus formed and galloped down the passageway and barreled into the lead Dementor, knocking back into its brethren following behind. Harry had to concentrate, because while the single passage made it possible for only one or two of the beasts to advance, it also restricted how many of them he could take out at any one time. For the moment, he was at a stalemate, holding the creatures at bay, but unable to dispatch them all at once. Ron and Baretto, flanked by Remus, Muireall and Lockley, advanced down the last hallway, pushing back the remainder of the Death eaters. The prison guards numbers dwindled rapidly as the expert swords and wands of the Order began to decimate their numbers. The going was getting difficult as the number of bodies piled up before them. Ron looked back at Harry who was holding his place against the Dementors. Time was working against them as any number of charms or spells could sound a warning to Voldemort, so Ron began to increase the tempo of his assault, looking to finish the battle. He looked ahead and saw Millicent standing wide eyed by a door at the end of the hall. It looked like she was getting ready to flee, which suited Ron just fine. *** It had been almost six years ago. Draco had taken firm hold of the Death eaters and had tapped Millicent to be the warden of Azkaban. The last step in her accepting the post had been an audience with the Dark Lord himself, who had taken a personal hand in rebuilding the prison. She remembered kneeling before his new throne at Hogwarts, and feeling his voice speak inside her skull. His voice was raspy, penetrating and full of venom, as if, dealings with inferior beings were a necessary annoyance. His tone was deadly certain in its delivery of her instructions and was etched in the fabric of her memory. You are charged with the protection of the prison. You have no other duty but to safeguard its secrets. The time will probably never come, as no one would dare defy my rule, but I am a Lord that likes to be prepared. He hissed, his delivery was slow and meandering, like a snake. Should the time come, however, that the prison is attacked, it must not fall to those that would oppose me. I have put into place a fail safe, a dead mans option. You will implement it before the prison falls. To be sure, you will die when the door is opened, but understand this, it would be better for you to accept the death that lies behind the door, than to survive while your ownership of the prison falls. He leaned forward and pressed his wand to her head, searing his words into her brain. You will accept the quick death, or eternal suffering at my hands. If the prison should fall, open the door. He turned brusquely and left her panting in pain on the throne room floor.

*** Millicent looked back down the hall and saw that fewer than five of her Death eaters remained. She reached an unsteady hand up to the latch of the door and gripped it tightly. She turned the handle slightly and then grew bolder. She drew herself up straight and with D racos name on her lips, she threw the door open wide. The inside was black, darker than the darkest night. At first, she thought it looked more like an empty closet and she felt a momentary sense of disappointment after the heights the failsafe option had been built up to. She looked farther into the gloom and felt rather than saw a hint of movement. Whatever was in there drew closer and when the light of the corridor revealed the doors contents, Millicent Bulstrode screamed in terror and died as Voldemorts wrath came out into the light. *** When not making his grand performance sitting high atop his throne, the Dark Lord spent his time in a small office to the side of the throne room. Inside was Dumbledores desk, a trophy from his triumph over the old man. Voldemort sat behind the desk, weeding through a myriad of documents that ranged in topic from Domina Malfoys efforts on his behalf in the Confederation of Wizards, to the bare construct of his memoirs. His life would become required study, as only a god could give the weaklings who worshiped him. Hed leave out the parts that could lead to his demise, of course, but the first step to immortality was to ensure that the history that was written suited the events that favored the man once known as Tom Riddle. He rifled through the papers, looking somewhat vulnerable with a pair of half-moon glasses perched on his nose. The glasses were another affectation of his, having found them laying quaintly on Dumbledores desk, as if their owner wou ld return at any moment to retrieve them. He found their lenses comforting, a testament to the power of the only wizard who could have challenged his ascent. The Harry Potter myth had been a near thing, but the boys death had actually accelerated his rise and now all that remained, everything dear to Dumbledore, especially Hogwarts, now belonged to Voldemort. He felt a pain strike the back of his head. It was searing, like a blade through the base of his skull. Voldemort believed that pain was the best indicator of alertness, but the pain he was feeling could only mean one thing. The door at Azkaban had been opened. He reached for a mallet that rested at the foot of his chair. He swung it behind him, striking the gong mounted over the Pensieve. Within seconds, Narcissa Malfoy came running into the room, breathless. Yes, my lord? She waited, anxiously as she noticed the look on the Dark Lords face. Sound the alarm and marshal the Death eaters. Azkaban is under attack. It may have fallen already. He hissed. He threw his glasses down and stood, his red eyes burning in hate. Do it now, woman, or die here. Narcissa bowed and ran out of the room. *** Ron grimaced as Millicents scream reached his ears. He saw the door open and held his ground. Fred came up beside him, with Ginny, Dean, Baretto and Muireall. The area was silent, save for the quiet hum as Harry kept the Dementors at bay. Oh no. This isnt real. It cant be. Freds voice echoed over to Harry.

What is it? No one answered and Harry couldnt turn to look. Damn it, what is it? Ron, whats going on? Rons voice came in a hoarse whisper. Inferi, Harry. Lots of them. You know how to handle them, Ron. Burn them up! Use the American weapon. Harrys voic e seemed tense as the Dementors weight of numbers bore down on him. I, I, I cant, Harry. Why not? Harry sent out a focused blast that seemed to clear the area for a few minutes as the stunned Dementors collected themselves. Harry turned to look down the hall. The lifeless, decaying bodies were slowly advancing down the hallway. Harry looked closer and turned pale. Leading the Inferi, despite their obvious decay and blank eyes, were the bodies of George, Bill, Fleur, Charlie and Percy Weasley. The Dark Lords secret weapon was to make his last remaining enemys fears come true. The lifeless, bloody body of Millicent had already joined them. The unrelenting tide of undead came on toward them. Harry took a quick look down the other corridor and saw the Dementors gathering themselves up and beginning to advance. They were caught between in a vise, and the jaws were beginning to squeeze shut. Chapter 192 The Mad Genius Contrary to what his minions thought, Lord Voldemort was intimately involved in the minute details of what was occurring in his realm. When Harry and Ron, as well as a good proportion of the Weasley clan were murdered, he understood that the vast proportion of the remaining resistance would come from those following Fred Weasle y and Remus Lupin. Hed made a miscalculation with Severus Snape, but since the traitor was dead, Voldemort could rewrite the history to diminish the impact of one of his own being the source of resistance. Instead, the Dark Lord decided to create methods and weapons that would play upon the sentimentality and the fears of his opponents. The Azkaban Inferi were the hallmark of his strategy to terrify and paralyze his enemies. Harry saw the hesitation in his friends as the bodies of their loved ones marched forward. Even Remus seemed to pause as he spotted Tonks among the ranks of the enemy, her hair a grotesque shade of dark red and hazy gray. Harry took a quick look at the regrouping Dementors and realized that the mission was in serious jeopardy and they hadnt even freed Tesla or Neville. He had the same queasy feeling in his own stomach as the wistful locks of Luna Lovegood seemed to contrast with the blank, empty eyes of a woman already long dead. The thing about Inferi is that dead tissue was animated, but not preserved. The entire vision was one of horror and regret, as each of the remaining members of the Order wrestled with ten years of history, survivors guilt and grief, all called forth by the appearance of the corporeal remnants of the people most dear to them. In Harrys mind, what finally broke free, was the knowledge that this reality, what he was trying to restore, was completely and utterly false. Hed allowed a tinge of doubt that the substance of what he and Ron had been experiencing might have been the way things were, but when confronted with the images before him and the continued suffering that a long dead and destroyed Tom Riddle was visiting on his friends, Harry snapped as a solid core of resolve and fortitude strengthened his will. Harry reached over and grabbed Ron and Ginny by their robes and turned them towards the Dementors. Take care of the Dementors. Without looking back at them, Harry ignored Fred and Remus and addressed Baretto. Adelina, start getting everyone back to the ship. Si, Signor Harry. A tinge of sentiment struck Harry, her words springing forth memories of his time and that warm feeling helped to enshroud his steely resolve. Baretto stood next to Fred, a

worried expression on her face. What about them? She pointed down the passageway at the Inferi. Ill deal with them. When I clear this hall, make sure someone frees whoever is in those cells. Harry looked at Fred and Remus, whod both broken down from the strain. His voice softened. Get them back to the ship right away, I dont want them to see what I have to do. Behind him, Harry heard Rons voice echo, as his friend released his Patronus at the Dementors. Harrys heart beat faster as he heard Ginny join the crescendo. He sto le a quick glance back and saw both Ron and Ginny were around the corner, out of sight of the Inferi and Muireall was leading Fred and Remus back to the Discooperire. Harry took a deep breath and raised his cutlass up. Expecto Gladius Jedi! There was a familiar snap, hiss sound and his sword glowed white hot as he used the American wizard charm to change the cutlass into a solid finger of white flame. He pointed the tip of the blade towards the advancing Inferi. The picture of his friends, his loved ones, burned into his memory, raising the terror of the moment and the fiery hatred of the man who created these abominations. Silently, he whispered a quiet goodbye to George, Bill, Fleur, Luna, Charlie, Percy, Tonks and Lee. Some, he knew, hed see again, others, were dead, to be sure, but resting in peace. Harry nodded to the lifeless bodies. Incendio Maximus! A sudden, bright wall of flame burst from his sword and drove into the advancing mass of animated corpses. It struck them soundly, incinerating the first ranks and driving into the rest, back towards the door. In an instant, his lost loved ones were returned to the ashes from whence they came, finally allowed to rest in peace. The glow of his cutlass diminished somewhat, as the power generated by the flame dissipated. Harry raised the sword and looked back at Baretto, who stood in shocked surprise. Free the rest of the prisoners and get them to the ship! Harry turned back and saw another wave of Inferi approaching from the other side of the door. He ran ahead, sword held high and plunged into the middle of the pack, swinging the blade back and forth, while he waited for his power to strengthen enough for another flame spell. Baretto stole a quick look at Ron and Ginny who were steadily pushing the Dementors back and then motioned over to Lockley. Lets get the rest out of their cells. Her eyes watched as Harrys back disappeared through the far door and he rammed his way deep into the darkness, his path marked by the blinding flash of his sword. She sighed and helped direct the rest of their team to perform their appointed duties. *** Come on, Beatrice. I dont want to hurt you anymore. It pains me when my family is in pain. Draco stared at the woman sitting at the interrogation table in front of him. Her dress was torn in places and she was breathing heavily from the most recent round of questioning. Draco was good at the Cruciatus Curse, but found that more physical approaches, although hands on, were much more effective, sometimes. Unfortunately, Beatrice knew very little about the Order, and what she did, shed long ago surrendered to him. They liked to use the store as a gathering place and they had apparated there on the day the pseudo-Harry and pseudo-Ron made their appearance, but she never knew Potter and Weasley to begin with, so she really couldnt say whether they were real or not. Draco leaned up against a far wall and contemplated his next move. Beatrice was reaching the breaking point and he was no where near learning anything remotely useful in bringing this episode to a close. He thought about using heat and flame, but maybe, just maybe, she really didnt know anything. He wished he was more practiced at legilimens, but Draco had too many secrets and probing into anothers mind ran the risk of the information sharing being a two -way street and there were fears and terrors in Draco Malfoys brain that were best left untouched.

He ran his hand through his head and suddenly felt a sharp pain in his forearm. He grasped his wrist with his free hand and rolled up his sleeve. His Dark Mark was writhing and the pain was getting deeper, more intense. He ran from the room and found himself in the main office area for the Death eaters. Only the more senior members had been blessed with a Dark Mark, and those that were had risen from their seats and immediately turned to Draco for guidance. Running into the room, Lucius Malfoy had his jaw locked as he fought the pain and stared over at Draco, who nodded. Without a word, the Death eaters with the mark ran out of the office and made their way to the atrium. The Dark Lord wanted to see them all. *** Delores Umbridge was reviewing her notes of the encounter with Pansy Parkinson. Her story seemed a complete work of fiction, save for the fact that the Death eaters and Malfoy believed her story. It was quite impossible that Potter was alive, yet something was causing an upheaval in the Ministry. Chaos, she mused, would benefit her position. Not only would she be able to supplant Draco, but now, even the Ministers seat would be achievable. She smiled to herself. There was no telling where this might lead. The sound of a ringing bell interrupted her reflections and annoyed, she grasped the small tube and funnel from the side of the desk. I asked to not be disturbed. Yes, Madame Director, but there is something I think you must see. The muffled voice of her secretary was unconcerned. An efficient administrative assistant, the woman knew what be enough to disturb Umbridge. At least shed better know, or shed pay the price. Very well, Sylvia, Ill be right out. Umbridge pushed her chair back and walked to the door. She walked out into the reception area and found Sylvia Williams, her secretary, peering through what appeared to be an eyeball. When Sylvia saw Umbridge, she smiled, her olive skin contrasting nicely with her bright, white teeth. Theres some interesting activity down on Level Two. Umbridge knew that could only mean the Death eaters. Many years back, shed used her legislative influence to seize the properties of those who defied the Dark Lord. One of those properties had been a warehouse in Hogsmeade that had once housed a joke shop belonging to the Weasleys, the boys whod helped disgrace and humiliate her at Hogwarts. Among their wares were sets of Extendable Eyes, which she used to help spy on her enemies. Delores peered through the orb and watched as Lucius Malfoy ran into the office and then followed his son out, with some of the senior Death eaters, each holding the arms that contained their Dark Marks. Something was amiss. Umbridge snapped her fingers and seemingly from nowhere, several of her Inquisitors appeared. Yes, Madame Director? The lead, faceless Inq uisitor bowed his head. Id like you to accompany me downstairs. The man only nodded and followed behind his short legged mistress. *** Among the Order members who were quickest to recover, Colin and Dean helped Baretto with the last cells. Dean pushed open a heavy cell door and peered inside. Well, look who we have here. Dean smiled and saw the blank face of Vincent Crabbe staring at the ceiling. He must have made someone very mad.

Leave him, we dont have much time. Colin pulled at Deans sleeve and made his way down the hall. Dean stopped at the next door and pushed it open. The room was dark, the huddled figure shrouded in the blackness of the shadows. Dean raised his wand and lit the area. He looked over and saw the prisoner standing erect, his recognizable features defiant, as if expecting a confrontation when the door opened. A wave of relief poured over Deans face and he broke out into a smile. Neville? Dean walked forward and watched as a worn, tired Neville Longbottom begin to recognize his friend. Neville, its me, Dean. Were here to get you out of here. Disbelief clouded Nevilles face. He bore scars on top of scars and his striped prison clothing was in tatters. Dean aimed his wand forward and destroyed the chains holding his friend in place. The freedom of movement snapped Neville into motion. He smiled and allowed Dean to lead him out. When they entered the hall, Colin was leading an old man by the arm. Colin looked back. This is the last of them. I think this is the guy Harry was looking for. Dean nodded. Where is Harry? The sounds of battle still emanated from the black room at the end of the hall. Whatever horrors Harry was facing, he was still fighting, still not giving into the terror. Every so often, the whoosh of another bolt of flame would ring out, telling them that he was clearly holding his own. Colin shrugged. Hes buying us time. Lets go. He led them towards the dwindling line of prisoners. Baretto stepped forward and pulled a small bo suns pipe from her pocket and blew into it. Its high pitched whistle rang throughout the area, calling on her remaining crew to return to the ship. She looked at the end of the hall and after a moment, saw a flurry of movement and watched as a beleaguered Harry Potter emerged. Calmly, he pushed the door shut and snapped its locks into place. From his eyes, she could see that hed encountered any number of demons below and still he continued with the mission. He walked steadily down the hall and met her at the main junction. He took a look and saw Ron and Ginny still battling the Dementors. He raised up his arm and extended his sword over their shoulders. Expecto Patronum! His Patronus ushered forth and added its weight to thei r fight, sending the Dementors reeling out the door and beyond. Ron and Ginny allowed their arms to fall to their sides. They were breathing heavily and seemed grateful for the respite. Harry offered Ginny a quiet smile and clapped Ron on the shoulder. Ginny noticed that Harry seemed worn, battered from an exhaustion born as much from the soul as it was physical. She hazarded a gaze down the hall, from where the Inferi had come and realized what Harry had endured to save them from their own fears and grief. Shed almost broken. Shed never mention it, but one of the Inferi bore a remarkable resemblance to Seamus. It was enough to break any normal person. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, this Harry was not a normal person. Harry turned to Baretto. Lets go. Ron led Ginny down the passage leading to the ship. Baretto followed close behind. Harry paused at the junction, to take one last look around. There was an eerie quiet to the place and he exhaled slowly trying to keep the visions of the dead from overwhelming him. There was a loud bang from the door labeled Wardens Office. Harry raised his sword as Baretto, Ginny and Ron stopped in their tracks. The door swung open and Voldemort, backed by the Malfoys and ten odd Death eaters stepped into the hall. Ginny screamed out Harrys name and Harry turned and yelled out to Baretto, while fixing his gaze on Ginny. Get them out of here! Use the Peruvian Blackness Powder Bombs to hide your departure, Ill hold them off.

Harry, you cant! Come on Harry! Ginnys voice was panicked, unhinged as Ron grabbed her by the shoulders. Harry smiled gently and raised his wand. Ill be along shortly. His voice was strangely calm. Redacto! He brought the ceiling down behind Ginny and Ron, blocking him in with the new arrivals. Harry took a deep breath and turned. His brilliant viridian eyes locked with the crimson orbs of Lord Voldemort, who had a sharp intake of breath. Voldemort was convinced by the gaze that this was no imposter, this was the real Harry Potter, the whelp whod defied him, the socalled myth known as the Boy Who Lived, whose death had helped propel him to victory was now, impossibly, standing before him as a man who had just broken into the most secure prison in the wizarding world and overcome its security. Lucius and Draco Malfoy stood in undisguised shock. The man in front of them was easily recognizable as the boy theyd known. The brutality of the scene demonstrated his power, but his presence raised doubts in the power of their master, and Voldemort knew that. How, Potter? How is this possible? Voldemorts voice seethed with rage, fear and doubt. You can not be alive. Harry raised his sword and smiled, his grin penetrating Voldemorts psyche. Hello, Tom. Harry nodded to the Malfoys. Draco, Lucius. Voldemorts rage grew. You dare call me by that muggle name? Harry laughed. Thats who you are. Youre Tom Riddle, Junior, half blood. Harry bowed in mock greeting. Shall we dance, Tom? Voldemort raised his wand, and the battle was joined. Chapter 193 Edge of Reality The interesting thing about alternate realities is that when someone, like Harry, is deposited in a place where events unfolded differently from the way he remembered, the experiences of the individuals involved are radically different. Fred Weasley was similar to the man Harry knew before, but his life over the intervening years had altered his personality and his responses away from what Harry remembered. The two men facing off against each other in the battle-scarred passageway of Azkaban Prison were entirely different from the man and the boy whod squared off over Harrys years in Hogwarts. In Harrys timeline, hed faced the Dark Lord in the ultimate confrontation and had won, the Elder Wand in his hand and an entirely vulnerable Tom Riddle without his Horcruxes as a target. Conversely, Voldemorts only direct experience with fighting Harry had been the confrontation in the cemetery after his rebirth and a fleeting chase across the skies of England upon Harrys departure from Four Privet Drive. Granted, the Battle of Hogwarts and the year he took to seize power had seen the Dark Lord fight numerous battles, but since then, hed been relying on his reputation and the ruthlessness of his minions to convey his power. Hed had very little practice in fighting, despite his possession of the Elder Wand. Voldemorts only recollection of Harrys abilities had been those brief interludes when Harry had been at Hogwarts. Consequently, the Dark Lord had no real indication of the fact that the man fighting him was a veteran, battle-tested warrior who had none of the insecurities the boy, Harry, had while still finding himself. It came as no little shock when Harry sprung into action.

Voldemort raised the Elder Wand, intent on killing Harry from the start, not anticipating that Harry would dive to his left and let fly a destructive charm that exploded the corner of the wall right next to the Dark Lord. Voldemorts curse went flying wide and Harry pointed his sword outward. Protego! A wall of energy and magic, nominally reserved for protection, expanded outward from Harrys blade and sent Voldemort and the Malfoys flying backwards towards the Inferi door. Harry allowed his momentum to carry him towards the Death eaters, who were stunned at his actions. Harry continued his roll and leapt up amid the first rank of the Dark Lords followers and whispered a silent command that brought his sword to life in a brilliant sheet of white flame. The blade cut through the chests of three of the stunned Death eaters, practically severing their torsos and pushing the remainder back into the office once occupied by the dear departed Millicent Bulstrode. Voldemort shook his head as he attempted to collect his wits. Draco was fast on the mark and thrust his wand forward and sent a blast spell towards Harry. Harry, for his part, dodged sideways, but could not avoid the impact of the blast on the floor below him and he careened off a far wall, barely able to keep hold of his blade. Lucius followed up his sons attack with a blast of his own. It too, impacted on the floor at Harrys feet, this time creating a hole in the ground that Harry fell through, landing in a heap on the deserted cell block below. Lucius cautiously approached the spell-created chasm, followed closely by Draco and the seven surviving Death eaters. Voldemorts raspy voice echoed behind them, causing them to jump. Follow him! Find him! Kill him! The Dark Lords voice grew shriller with each progressive word and Lucius gave a surreptitious glance to Draco, who nodded. Taking a deep breath, Draco Malfoy dropped down the hole to the floor below, his wand at the ready. One right after the other, the other Death eaters followed, leaving Voldemort and Lucius to ponder on the floor above. My lord, how is this possible? Despite being rattled at seeing Potter, Lucius maintained control of his voice. Its a trick. It has to be a trick of some kind. Voldemort said more to himself than in response to Malfoys question. The Dark Lord glanced down at the wand in his hand. Potter, or whoever it was, had reacted quickly, not giving Voldemort a clear chance to use the Elder Wand to his advantage. He would not make the same mistake again. He would kill this imposter and get to the bottom of this. *** No! Harry! Let me go! Ive got to help him! Ginny strained against the hold Ron had on her, but it was a near thing, her hysteria and grief nearly overcoming the grip of her brothers arms around her. Leave him be, Ginny. Weve got to go now! Ron yelled at his sister as the rest of the freed prisoners and the crew of the Discooperire found their places on the ship. But, Harry, we cant leave him here. Ginny almost pleaded with her brother. Rons face was serious and whirled his sister around to face him. Harry knows what hes doing. If Voldemort is here, than we need to get away from this place right now. Harrys buying us time to escape. You want to make his effort for nothing? Hell kill Harry, Ron. Her voice was lower, but her eyes were starting to well up, the prospect of losing Harry again almost too much to bear.

Ron nodded. Maybe, maybe not. Thats not the Harry you remember. Im not the Ron you remember. Harry knows how to handle himself, but most of all, he knows what his duty is and right now, hes the only one among us that can hold off the bad guys and allow us a chance to get out. Ginny seemed to nod, but still seemed reluctant to leave. Barettos call beckoned them and finally, she allowed Ron to pull her onto the gangway to the ship. Ron passed Ginny onto Dean, who led her towards the quarterdeck. Ron nodded to Baretto and rifled through his bag, drawing out three, rather large, burlap bags. He tossed them into the air behind the ship and pointed his wand at them, causing all three to hold steady in the air. When the ship had achieved enough distance, Ron sent out a quick spell that incinerated the sacks, causing them to explode. The bags contained a heavy dose of Peruvian Blackness Powder, specially concocted to disperse over a large area upon contact with Rons fire. Immediately, the entire island that housed the prison was covered in a cloud of impenetrable darkness, leaving the ship to continue out to sea, free of observation. Ron sighed heavily and walked over to his sister, placing a reassuring arm on her shoulder. Ginny looked up at him and nodded. Are you sure he can get away? She needed reinforcement and Ron nodded his head. Harrys very good at what he does. Hes the best Auror that weve ever had. Hes done things and fought people of unimaginable evil and won. Believe me, Harry knows exactly what hes doing. *** What the heck am I supposed to do now? Harry sat crouched in a darkened corner of the cell block. When hed fallen to the next level, his first instinct had been to throw his Cloak of Invisibility over his head and work his way further down the hall. He unclipped his wand from his sword and carefully replaced the cutlass in its sheath on his back. Hed expected some sort of response, but hed had no clue that Voldemort himself would make an appearance. His original intent had been to buy time, to bloody up the enemy and get out, but the Elder Wand in Voldemorts hands caused him to pause and take the first opportunity to find a place to hide. The end of the hall was dotted with the lights from the tips of wands as the Death eaters conducted a systematic search of the level. Millicents greed turned out to be both a blessing and a curse. Shed chosen to vacate this level, taking the torches with her, so he was provided with a cover of darkness with which to hide, but shed also sealed the accesses to the level as well, in order to prevent the use of the cell block without her permission. Still, Harry felt relatively sure that he could deal with the opposition here, on this floor. The wildcard was the Dark Lord. The Elder Wand gave Voldemort a distinct advantage in a fight, but the wielder wasnt necessarily infallible. Hadnt Dumbledore defeated Grindenwald while the latter had been wielding the wand? Unconsciously, Harrys hand moved to the scar on his forehead. As he rubbed it, he mused about how, despite the recent encounter with Riddle, he didnt feel a thing from the brand. In this reality, Voldemort had been revived by Harrys Horcrux. In Harrys reality, the Horcrux had been destroyed during Harrys encounter in the forest with Voldemort. Therefore, the link between Harry and Voldemort still seemed to be severed, which was good as far as Harry was concerned. There was a rustle of cloth as a Death eater walked past where he stood. After an anxious second, he continued his search down the hall from Harry. Ive got to prioritize. Harry thought to himself. The first order of business was to get off this floor and the second, he decided, was to get away from the prison itself. He wrestled with the notion that he should take on Voldemort directly, but pushed that thought aside. His first duty was to escape and rejoin his friends. His job was to return things back to normal, not relive a crusade

long ago resolved. Killing Voldemort or getting killed would not bring his children back nor would it return the world to where it should be, but getting out may require him to confront the Dark Lord and that was where he applied his thoughts. Another Death eater passed where he stood and Harry slipped behind him and walked back towards the hole hed fallen through. The going was painfully slow as he took care not to rouse any dust nor allow his boots to make noise as he passed over the dusty flagstones. He kept to the edges of the hallway, in the event that someone should see his footsteps. He approached the edge of the hole, aware that Draco Malfoy was standing only a few meters away, directing the search. He hazarded a glance up and caught a brief glimpse of Voldemort and Lucius pacing furiously on the level above. The overheard conversation was interesting, to say the least. It is not possible, Lucius. That man is not Harry Potter. Harry Potter is dead. Voldemort was working himself up into a frenzy and Lucius realized that he was standing a precarious position, this close to the Dark Lord who was on the verge of coming unhinged. Despite the danger, however, Lucius was stunned at the sight hed just seen and decided to raise his thoughts. My Lord, maybe we missed something, maybe Potter survived somehow. The man we saw certainly looked like a grown up Potter. Lucius held his breath as he waited for his words to resonate with Voldemort. The Dark Lord stopped his pacing and glared at Malfoy, his red eyes boring into the Minister of Magic like daggers. He brought his face up to Malfoys and sneered. That is not possible, Lucius. I would not be here if Potter were still alive. I, alone, know the secret to immortality and I, alone, know that it is impossible for Potter to have lived while I do. Lucius would only take the subject so far. He bowed his head slightly as Voldemort resumed his pacing. The Dark Lord peered down into the hole, seemingly staring right at Harry. Where is he? Draco called up. Theres no sign of him, my lord, he must be hiding behind his Cloak of Invisibility. How would he have that, I wonder, if the Cloak is still in my office at Hogwarts? Find him Draco, or suffer the consequences. Harry let out a small breath. Well, now he knew what happened to his cloak in this reality. Voldemort must have seized it during the take over. Harry wondered if Voldemort figured out where the Resurrection Stone was. No matter, Harry had to get out. He looked up at the hole and then down at his boots and was struck with an inspiration. Silently, he pointed his wand at the soles of his feet. Wingardium Leviosa. It was a simple charm really, learned by first year students in Charms class, but Harry had never really learned how to apply it to himself, so he chose the next best thing. He levitated his shoes, with his body still in them. Slowly, he rose from the ground and found himself hovering on the next level, directly over the hole. The idea had seemed like a good one at the time, now here he was, suspended in the air, no more than five or so meters from the Dark Lord, with no real way to get down or move. Things couldnt get any worse, until they did. A loud shout came from the hole below. Sir! Mr. Malfoy, sir! Look at this! An exasperated Voldemort leaned down, his head no more than a few centimeters from Harrys feet. What is it? Dracos voice filtered back to him. Footprints, sir! It looks like he doubled back. Harrys heart raced. It looks like they end back at the hole, my lord.

Voldemorts eyes danced around the room. Get back up here! The Dark Lord raised his wand and scanned the area. Harry held his breath, but knew that it was time to get out. Harry watched as Voldemorts eyes narrowed at the spot where his Cloak met his feet. Harry felt a cool breeze blowing from the ventilation shaft which must have been making his cloak furl. Harry took a quick look down and saw that the edge of the cloak had caught on the top of his boot, leaving the toe exposed. It was time to go. Ending the charm would have meant falling right on top of the Death eaters below. Firing a spell at Voldemort would still mean that he was stuck in mid air for anyone else to find. I have you now, imposter! Voldemort smiled and raised the Elder Wand. Harry raised his own wand. Aguamenti! A terrific spout of water struck Voldemort, knocking him off balance, but defense had only been part of Harrys intent. Harry pointed the water jet towards one of the near walls, propelling him in his levitated state down one of the halls. Finite! Harry dropped to the ground and started running down the hall, weaving back and forth as Lucius and the Dark Lord flung curses his way. Harry threw spells back at them, trying to throw them off guard. There was a door at the end of the hallway and Harry reached into his pocket and drew out a small, plastic ball and hurled it behind him. Instantly, a cloud of blackness shrouded his movements as he threw open the door and rushed inside, pulling it behind him. The muffled voices of Voldemort and Lucius roared behind the door. Find him! Find him! Go through the cloud! Harry took a moment to gather his wits. He looked around and then felt the grip of extreme cold and sadness take hold of his body. Slowly, he gazed up and saw that he was in one of the towers and stretching up from where he stood were perhaps hundreds of Dementors, circling around in the air. The door hed entered was the one that had been their lair, but beyond the Dementors, Harry saw an opening in the ceiling. This must be where they spring from to conduct their infernal business. Harry quickly stowed his Cloak in his bag and pulled out his Firebolt. Despite his ability to hold off a score or even two score Dementors, he had serious doubts as to whether there were simply too many for him to drive away. The decision was made for him as more voices reached his ears from behind the door. Theres a door, my lord. Its locked from the other side. Stand aside, you fool. Time to go, thought Harry. He mounted his broom and raised his wand upward. Expecto Patronum! His Patronus leapt forward and Harry followed close behind, trying to keep his flight well within the tendrils of the Patronus, like riding its coat tails upward through the mass of Dementors. He plotted the Patronus path through the beasts as they tried to get at him. Several passed within touching distance of him, filling his extremities with extreme despair and sadness. He clung to his broom as the temperature dropped below freezing and he felt his skin turning blue from the cold and the contact with the Dementors. For a moment, his Patronus seemed to start fading, but Harry clung to a memory which reignited the white fire of his love-generated being and propelled him forward, through the remaining Dementors and out into the cold rain. Harry snapped his wand back into its sheath on his wrist and pushed his head down on his broom and accelerated away from the prison. He looked behind and what he saw caused him to spur his broom faster than hed ever thought possible. Voldemort was floating above the clouds, continuing the chase, hundreds of Dementors following, blackening the sky like the darkest night. Already, curses where coming dangerously close to him as the Dark Lord closed the distance.

Harry looked down at a small, circular dial mounted on the top of his broom and took his bearings. He reached into the side pocket of his satchel and withdrew a handful of dark green, wet stalks of fungus. He took a deep breath and pushed the stalks into his mouth and then drove the head of his broom downward, disappearing into the frigid ocean. *** No, he can not escape me! Voldemort hovered over the spot where Harry disappeared. The Death eaters had been aloft on their own brooms, flying escort to the Dark Lord. High above, the Dementors scoured the surface of the sea, looking for some sign of the escaping man. Surely hes dead. No one can survive that. One of the Death eaters said to one of his colleagues. I dont know, he was supposed be dead already, so I wouldnt put it past him. His friend tried to be quiet, whispering at a level barely audible to no one but his friend. He was wrong. Avada Kedavara! The vicious green bolt sprung from the Elder Wand and struck the hapless commentator directly in the chest, sending his body tumbling down into the roiling waters below. The rest of the Death eaters held their tongues as Voldemort sullenly turned around and headed back to the prison. Lucius and Draco Malfoy shared a quick glance between them and followed their master. *** He never could really get used to breathing with the gills. The gillyweed was the foulest tasting thing hed ever tasted, yet this was the third time its use had helped him. He guided his broom, following the needle of the gauge. The needle wasnt actually a needle, but was, in fact, a tiny spoon that seemed to move whenever Harry changed course. He kept the head of the spoon pointed ahead and hoped that his destination wasnt more than an hour away. After about fifty minutes, by his reckoning, the spoon glowed a bright orange and Harry smiled to himself. Soon, up ahead, he spied the wake of a large ship and followed it along its path until he saw the rudder of the ship. Imbedded in the rudder was a small fork, jammed in by the tines and the exact match of the spoon in his gauge. In this world, like in his own, he could never have too many Weasley Wizards Wheezes defense gadgets. This one had brought him home. He swept to the side of the ship and pulled upward on his broom and broached the wind tossed waves and flew up into the air. He turned slightly and flew down, landing softly on the storm tossed quarterdeck, his feet firmly back on the Discooperire and bound for home. *** Captain Baretto had offered Ginny her cabin. Grateful for the chance to hide her grief from her friends and family and ashamed that she still felt this way after all Seamus had done for her, Ginny sat at the Captains desk and put her head in her crossed arms. Shed finally surrendered to the tears shed been holding back for so long. The sobs wracked her body, as she finally cried for Seamus and for Harry. No matter what Ron thought, Harry was dead. No one could survive the situation hed left himself in. For that matter, Ron was supposed to be dead, too. Life had played a cruel joke on her. It gave her Harry and then stole him away. It gave her a family and took that too. It gave her Seamus and then took him away, and now it gave her Harry once more and ripped him away. The hope shed been feeling had been shattered and she wondered if everything shed done over the years was worth the effort. Why should she go on? Ginny?

The voice from the door struck her like a thunderclap. She slowly raised her head and turned. There he was, more than a little soaked, his skin a slight shade of blue from the cold, but he was alive. Slowly, she stood up and wiped the tears from her eyes with her sleeve and shuffled slowly towards him. His eyes glowed with a warmth she scarcely remembered, but knew by heart, like a long lost friend. Her shoulders grew straighter; her stride grew more firm as she walked to the door. Harry extended his arms to provide her a comforting embrace. Ginny reached out her arm and landed a terrific slap to Harrys fac e, knocking his glasses askew. He looked at her with a shocked expression as his hand went to his cheek. He could feel the redness growing from the force of the blow. That was for scaring the living daylights out of me, Harry Potter! I dont know what kind of life you lead in your other world, but in this one, I dont appreciate your attempts to be some sort of super hero. I cant imagine how your wife, I mean how I, I mean how Ginny, or whoever you share your life with puts up with your antics. Her face held a scowl, which was comforting to Harry, somehow. It was the first real emotion hed seen out her since his arrival in this world. Ginny took another step forward and Harry cringed, anticipating another blow. Instead, she reached her face up to his and pulling the back of his head with her hands and crushed his lips with hers. The kiss sent a wave of electricity down his spine, cascading down his body and through his toes. The cold dampness from his underwater excursion suddenly disappeared replaced by a waterfall of heat emanating from his chest and radiating throughout his body. The kiss seemed like it lasted forever and when their lips parted, he barely remembered to breathe. He stood there in shock. She smiled, ever so slightly. That was for coming back in one piece. She turned her head, flipping her wild hair over her back and walked out of the cabin, leaving him standing there, rubbing the growing welt on his cheek with one hand and feeling the kiss on his lips with the other. No matter what the reality, he thought, some things never change. Chapter 194 Temporis Amoveo The transit south was refreshingly uneventful. The raid on Azkeban had managed to free almost forty prisoners. There were others, but the rest were like Crabbe, members of the current administration whod fallen out of favor. The rescued prisoners were in various states of shock, the longer theyd been incarcerated, the more detached from reality theyd been. After changing into dry clothes, Harry made his way down to the main galley area, where most of the escapees had congregated to enjoy their first real meal in days. Perhaps he should have thought before making an appearance, but by the time he realized what he was doing, Harry walked into the galley. Prisoners at Azkaban were completely isolated and many had been taken after Voldemorts rise. Consequently, they were unaware of Ron and Harrys return. Ron had not made it down to visit them as he was in Freds cabin, trying to help his brother deal with the horrific events hed experienced during the raid. The prisoners psyches were fragile, so the appearance of a resurrected Harry Potter threw them for a loop. H-harry? The small voice squeaked from nearby. Harry turned and took a stunned step back . Shed always been a slight figure, but the woman sitting nearby looked gaunt, her eyes sunk into the recesses of her skull. Her skin clung to her bones as her prolonged incarceration had combined with the pain of loss to sap her energy, bit by bit. Harry smiled warmly, resting a hand on her shoulder. Hello, Padma.

Padma Patil stared at him and with considerable effort, she stood. Youre alive? He simply nodded. Padma stared at him and then brought her fists up, and began pounding on his chest. The blows were not physically hard, but the anguish of the gesture caught him off guard. Youre alive! She screamed. Youre alive and my sister is dead. You were supposed to keep all this from happening. We believed in you! Dumbledores Army, the Order, fighting the good fight! Youre alive and she died! I hate you! Taken aback, Harry gently pushed Padma back, guiding her to a seat. Her strength had been depleted and she fell back into the chair and sobbed into her arms. A low murmur passed through the rest of the escapees, as if Padmas sentiments were an expression of their own. Here and there, the murmurs became a rumble. You lied to us. You saved your own skin and let us suffer. Dirty traitor, you lied to us. Harry recoiled from the venom of their comments. The mood in the galley was turning decidedly ugly as ten years of frustration and the untold horrors of incarceration seemed to be directed at him. What could he say? In essence, they were right. His death had led to the rise of the Dark Lord, to innumerable deaths and pain from the reign of the man he was prophesied to overthrow. His head fell as the weight returned to his shoulders. The weight of responsibility for dealing with Voldemort, the weight of being the one to do the right thing, the weight he had felt lifted so many years ago. Thats enough! Harry turned and saw Fred standing at the galley entrance. His friend looked haggard, as if his own pain had overtaken his body. Freds eyes were blood shot and his skin wan, but standing there, his shoulders were erect and canted forward. You are wrong about Harry. This is Harry Potter, but not the Harry Potter that died long ago. Fred sighed and explained the situation in as broad of terms as possible. The furor in the room died off almost as quickly as it had arisen. The ex-prisoners exhausted their anger and looked at Harry in a new light, that of the person whod gone to great personal risk to free them. Padmas eyes had a new light. She looked up at Harry, her gaze part hopeful and part desperate. This reality you come from, none of this happens? You mean those that we lost are alive? Parvati is still alive? Harry studiously avoided looking over in Freds direction. Im cant tell you the outcomes, it wouldnt be fair. Let me just say that, yes, people youve lost are alive, others are not. Suffice to say that Voldemort is dead and gone. The Ministry thrives and our lives are prosperous and peaceful. It wasnt the answer Padma wished for, yet, she, like many of the others, took Harrys words to infer something positive and hopeful for their own situations. Harry smiled and started walking away. Harry? Freds voice stopped him. Are you all right? Harry smiled at his friend. Thanks for that. Im fine. Its just that Id almost forgotten how much the responsibility for the world can weigh you down. Youve done an extraordinary job, Fred. I dont know how long I would have been able to keep going. In his own mind, Harry wandered back to the quest and wondered to himself what he would have done in Freds shoes.

Fred nodded. You would have been fine, Harry. How can you say that, Fred? Harry was a bundle of emotions, but he saw Freds resolve strengthening with each passing second as he started picking out old friends in the crowd of freed prisoners. Its easy, actually. You would have kept going, like Ive kept going for one very specific reason. Harry tilted his head over to Fred. Whats that? Fred extended his arms out. Because you had friends and family that cared and loved you and when its all said and done, thats all that really matters. Harry let out a small laugh and nodded. Then, he turned and started walking out the door. He had a couple of friends to go see. *** The air in the Hogwarts throne room was alive with an active tension born of fear, hate and desperation. The Dark Lord could not remain still and he paced back and forth as the Malfoys and the remaining Death eaters stood in the background, absorbing his harangue. Fools! Why must I be surrounded by fools? Voldemort stopped in his tracks and pointed a crooked finger at Draco. Its your fault, Draco. You have failed me! You put that idiot Bulstrode in charge of the prison! Youre leadership of the Death eaters has failed to bring these renegades in! How many battles have you lost? Draco, admirably enough, took the diatribe in stony silence, his face forward, his eyes avoiding the piercing red orbs of his master. My lord Silence, Lucius! Your incompetence is as much to blame for this fiasco as your moronic sons! Lucius clamped his mouth shut. A small, squeaky voice rattled through the room. I couldnt agree more, my lord. All eyes turned to the entrance to the throne room. Delores Umbridge was wearing a light pink dress adorned with a pill box hat and a string of large pink pearls. Her right arm was hitched upward and a bright lavender purse hung from its strap attached to her elbow. She looked like a nanny on holiday until one noticed that she was flanked by two faceless, nameless Inquisitors in their crimson robes. Voldemorts eyes narrowed as he took in the new arrival. Ah, Ms. Umbridge, what brings you here at such an hour? You have something to contribute to this discussion? If Umbridge was unnerved by Voldemorts tone or the situation, she didnt show it. She had a small, pleasant smile and her voice was that of a schoolmarm lecturing a particularly obtuse pupil. Yes, my lord. Ive taken it upon myself to review this, shall we say, investigation. Obviously, the Inquisitors are much more suited to conducting these types of operations, but sadly, the JUNIOR Mr. Malfoy neglected to ask for our assistance. Be that as it may, had Mr. Malfoy let us help him, he would not have missed some rather interesting facts that may shed some light on these new players in the game. She had a haughty, superior look on her face and she completely ignored the hateful stares from Lucius and Draco.

Voldemort seemed to calm, somewhat. In fact, a rather more bemused expression came over his face. Do tell, Ms. Umbridge. Tell me, what is your initial impression of these visitors? Umbridge had been prepared for this answer. It was integral to her play for power. She knew that she had to give the right response for the Dark Lord, obviously, but she had to give him something that both assuaged his fears but also left room for her to be wrong. Obviously, my lord, its impossible that these characters are t he real Potter and Weasley. No matter their appearance or mannerisms, we know for a fact that they are dead. Given their history with the Weasleys and Potter, the Minister and his son are obviously predisposed to believe the worst. I dont blame them, of course, what other conclusion could they have come to? Lucius raised his hand to the bridge of his nose. Umbridge neglected to mention her own hysterical history with Potter and the Weasleys as well as the Dark Lords initial infatuation with Potters prophecy. She was playing this masterfully, because the recent events in Diagon Alley and Azkaban had rendered a response from him useless. An over riding sense of dread began to build in his chest, and he was powerless to stop it, for now. Voldmort allowed himself a small grin. Yes, I see your point. Please, continue. It is also my judgement that this can not be a case of a simple transfiguration or polyjuice injection by someone belonging to the ranks of the rebels. If that were the case, why h adnt they done this earlier, while you were consolidating your reign, my lord, when it would have been more of a nuisance? She was using a reasonable tone of voice and Voldemort nodded his head in agreement. That is a rational, objective way to look at things, Ms. Umbridge. What do you think is going on here? Now was the time to deal the blow. Umbridge smiled sweetly, offering Lucius and Draco an almost apologetic, disappointed expression. Well, my lord, this is simply supposition, of course, but it can only mean that someone external to these players is trying to take an active hand in our affairs. I can only guess that someone opposing your visionary programs in the International Confederation of Wizards is behind this. The Americans or the Australians, perhaps? Regardless, there can be no other logical explanation. I find it curious, however, that weve had no indication of such a cabal from our usually competent representative to that body. The die was cast. In a very subtle way, Umbridge had implicated Domina Malfoy and by extension her husband and father-in-law in at best, shoddy ignorance and at worst, a conspiracy against the Dark Lord. Draco immediately rose to his wifes defense, before his father could restrain him. My lord! T his is preposterous. The Malfoys have always been loyal, from the start. Domina has served you ably and with distinction. She has championed every one of your commands to the Confederation. This woman, His disgust at Umbridge came through in a sneer. Is nothing more than a rank opportunist seeking to divide us in the face of the threat. Silence, Draco! Voldemorts voice echoed in the room, causing Draco to bite his tongue. We shall see about your wifes loyalty, soon enough. The Dark Lord turned to Umbridge. What do you suggest we do about this situation? Umbridge swiped away an imaginary fleck of dust. Mr. Malfoy is correct, my lord. This caused Lucius to raise and eyebrow. We can not afford to be divided in this. Since I am more impartial to the events that have occurred, I suggest that my department lead the investigation, with the Death eaters subordinated to me to ensure we are using the full weight of the Ministry to our advantage. Umbridge let her suggestion hang out there. Clearly, she wanted more, but she

knew, politically, to not ask for too much, the rest would come in due course. She would not be disappointed. I must say, Ms. Umbridge, you are the first of my followers to offer any type of rational explanation for these events. The Dark Lord offered a sidelong glance towards Lucius. The Minister shook his head. Lucius had seen how close to being unhinged the Dark Lord had become at the sight of Potter. His master was grasping at anything that would provide him an explanation that did not diminish the extent of his power. Voldemort continued. I think we need a calm hand guiding things at the Ministry. I am hereby appointing you Deputy Minister of Magic, working directly for Lucius here. You will have complete authority over all aspects of operations inside the Ministry. All departments will report to you. Youre first order of business will be to handle all aspects of this investigation and you will report your progress directly to me. It was more than Umbridge could hope for. She had, in essence, accomplished two very important things. Shed increased her power in the Ministry, now rising to being second only to Lucius Malfoy, who was hamstrung in the Dark Lords eyes by recent events. Shed also gai ned direct access to the Dark Lord. It would only be a matter of time before she shunted Lucius to the side and took the top spot for herself. I am humbled, my lord. I know, working together, we can resolve this unpleasantness rapidly. Umbridge had won her power play. Lucius Malfoy was finished; all that remained was to complete the task. Voldemort nodded. Excellent. He stared at Umbridge. Have Delegate Malfoy recalled from Xanadu for consultation. I wish to explore this avenue of thought fu rther with her. Umbridge bowed and turned on her heel to leave. Voldemort stopped her. Oh, and Ms. Umbridge? She turned and bowed once more. You have dared much and I have given you much, more as a result of the failures of certain members of this group, than through any achievement of your own. Make no mistake, I will place any failure directly at your feet. You would do well to know that I dont suffer failure too kindly. Fail in your mission, and you will suffer the consequences. I am not blind to ambition and no star shines more brightly than my own, am I clear, Deputy Minister? Umbridge choked back a rising sense of panic. Yes, my lord. She was dismissed with a wave of his hand and she walked out of the room at a rapid clip. Shed won, but somehow her earlier elation had waned. In the dark recesses of her mind, she thought, had she bitten off more than she could chew? As she passed Lucius Malfoy, she caught his gaze, which instead of being beaten or defeated, was rather humorous and defiant. As she walked by, he offered her a sentiment, which sent a cold shudder through her spine. Lucius smiled graciously. Be careful what you wish for, Delores, the Dark Lord knows your heart. She paused briefly, and then left the room. *** Harry made his way down the passageway from his encounter in the galley. It was remarkable that the layout of this Discooperire was identical to the one he remembered. He passed a long row of doors marking cabins and staterooms and was surprised when Ginny came out of one of them. They shared an awkward silence, which she finally broke.

I was checking up on Neville. Hes had a rough go of it. Hes sleeping now, the ships healer gave him a sleeping potion to give him time to recover. Her eyes locke d with his and Harry felt a surge of emotion starting to overcome him. Ginny, I She raised her finger to his lips. Not now, Harry. Later. She smiled and reached up and planted a light kiss on his cheek and walked down the hall. As she left, she pointed to another door, adjacent to Nevilles. Your friend is in that stateroom. Hes awake. Harry nodded and watched her as walked away. He shook his head and knocked lightly on the door. He heard a voice inside beckoning him, so with one last look at her receding form, he opened the door and stepped inside. Nicola Tesla was seated on the bunk arranged on the wall of the cabin. Like the other prisoners, his features were gaunt and thin, but he had an easy smile on his face. Harry smiled in greeting and pulled up a chair from the nearby desk, the only other furnishings in the room. Hello, Mr. Tesla, my name is Harry Potter. Over sixty years of isolation and confinement had made Tesla immune to the condition most wizards of this age had that electrified them at the sound of Harrys name. The old mans smile widened. Call me Nicola. I understand, Mr. Potter, that I have you to thank for my freedom. It was nothing, really. I would have made the effort for anyone, but I simply had to talk t o you, if youre up to it. Harry grimaced internally. His sole purpose for risking the Azkaban raid had been to retrieve Tesla. He wasnt entirely certain he would have made the trip for any other reason. Teslas smile radiated. Young man, I havent had a decent conversation in six decades. I would love a good chat. Harry smiled and took a deep breath. Mr. Tesla, I mean, Nicola, first things first, I know about the Illuminati Scientia and I know about your work on making muggle devices that served magical purposes. Teslas smile waned as if a cloud hovered over him. He began to protest, but Harry held up his hand. Only one other person on this ship has an idea of the extent of your involvement. By the way, your friend Elias Cohen is a dangerous man, he still has your dampening device. Cohens name and the mention of the device caused Tesla to sit up straighter, his idea of denying the facts long gone with Harrys confirmation. Harry continued. The Illuminati, Einstein, Cohen: they are not important. What is important is how I know about them. You see, I need your help, Nicola. Tesla listened as Harry outlined how he came to be in this timeline. The old man remained silent through the story, nodding his head from time to time. Every so often, his eyes would glaze over, as if lost in a thought. When Harry had finished, Tesla seemed more animated. I cant believe he got the prototype to work. He said in an awed voice. What do you mean? Who got what prototype to work? Harry watched as Tesla closed his eyes and then reopened them.

You see, Harry, youre right about the Illuminati. We thought we wanted to act like Prometheus, bringing the knowledge of fire, actually, bringing the fire of knowledge to the ignorant muggles. You were wrong about one small detail, however. What was that? Harry sat forward in his seat. All of us made devices, based on our areas of study. I was an expert in magnetic fields and energy transmission. I created the magic dampening device, because of my specialty. Alberts field of expertise was quantum physics and space/time. Tesla rubbed his hands together. He created the original Time Turners, before we were banned by the Ministry. Albert? Einstein? Harrys brain drifted back to Hermiones use of the Time Turner. So youre saying this is a Time Turner incident? Tesla laughed. Merlins brain, no! The Time Turner simply created a magical loop, bringing the user back to a linear point in time. No, my boy, that was the first step in creating Alberts pride and joy, the Temporis Amoveo. Harry furrowed his brow. The Temporis Amoveo? Whats that? Temporis Amoveo is Latin for Time Shifter. Harrys brain became clouded in confusion. Time Shifter? I dont understand, is it some sort of advanced Time Turner? No, not exactly. Tesla rose from his bed and paced in the small space of the cabin. You see, Albert always believed that time was linear, that we could travel in time by simply accessing points along the line. That was the essence of the time turner, because magic created currents that operated outside the normal physics. The Time Turners used magic to drift above the linearity and return to another point. What was interesting was that Albert could never find a way to go forward, only backward. Why is that? Despite the density of the topic, Harry was intensely interested, if only that he had the feeling that he was truly getting to true explanation. Because the future is never defined. The line of time terminates in the present and does not move forward until the event unfolds. We are all still human, Harry, and we must make choices that shape events. Until those choices are made, we can not determine where the line will go. Tesla stroked his beard as he thought back to the intense debates he had with his friend, Albert Einstein. So, what does that have to do with this Time Shifter? Harrys brain locked on the notion of prophecies. His entire childhood had been invested in a prediction of what he would be and what he would do, but Einsteins supposition made prophecy impossible, since the future wasnt defined. Well, Albert wasnt one to simply leave a puzzle unanswered. He knew he could go back and he knew he couldnt go forward, so there was only one other direction to try. Tesla watched as understanding dawned on Harry. Sideways. You said he used magic because it drifted around the line. Harry burst out. Precisely, Harry! Excellent! Tesla practically giggled, like a teacher wat ching a student work through a difficult problem. Remember, I told that the future isnt set, because we have yet to make choices about events. However, in the past, there are infinite choices that are made, infinite consequences that can make up any number of paths for history to follow, that was the

purpose of the Time Shifter. You see, Albert thought that if he could change a decision, change a choice, he could make the world better. What if he could change Hitlers mind about becoming a painter? What if he could alter the history of tyrants across the globe? He could create Utopia. So, youre saying I drifted into one of these alternate timelines? How do I get back to my own? Tesla shook his head. Sadly, you are not in alternate timeline. What Albert discovered was that there is only one path of reality, still only one line. His Time Shifter would allow him to reverse or change a decision, but the ramifications were catastrophic. It sounds to me that the Time Shifter was used to alter a decision in the past, which completely changed the timeline and the central line of history. Why werent Ron and I affected by this change? Harry slumped forward. From what he understood, this reality was the way things were supposed to be, until he changed it back. If I remember your story, you were apparating, right? Harry nodded. Well, apparition works under the same principle as the Time Turner. When you apparate, you are taken by magic outside the lines of reality and transported within the same line. You would not have been affected since you and your friend were outside the line of reality. When you returned, the damage had been done. How do I undo it? How does the Time Shifter select where to alter a decision? Harrys thoughts drifted to Ginny. This Ginny was his Ginny, only with different experiences. Tesla clapped his hands together. Thats the beauty. The Time Shifter is calibrated to memories. The memories you view with a pensieve are actually fibers of magic from the time realm. The essence of a memory is human will, in that; you make a decision from choices. It sounds to me like someone used the Time Shifter to alter a specific memory, namely the one around your Kingsley Shacklebolt, which altered the course of history. All you need do is apply the Time Shifter to the corresponding memory from this history. Tesla watched as Harry nodded. You know, in my day, the Ministry liked to keep an archive of memories in the Department of Mysteries. That was the same as my time as well. Harry said. Where is the Time Shifter now? Tesla thought for a moment. I was the last of the Illuminati to be arrested. I had most of the items that Cohen didnt steal with me. Id assume that the Time Shifter is at the Ministry, as well. Harry nodded soberly. Wonderful, he thought. Hed just attacked as impossible target as could be imagined in going after Azkaban. Now, he was expected to launch a raid on the Ministry of Magic, the heart of Voldemorts reign in this world. W hat was the saying Stanley Greenberg was so fond of? Out of the frying pan and into the fire.

Chapter 195 Planning Stage She didnt know if it was the Dark Lords final entreaty or whether one of the now deposed Death eaters had tampered with it, but Delores Umbridge did not like her chair. The high-back, red leather seat was broad, wide enough for her to shift in her seat without much discomfort, but she felt a prodding in the small of her back that caused her to want to fidget, when she knew that it would project an image that she didnt want to convey. The crowd of people in the large conference room would take her involuntary movements as some sign of weakness. She looked around the room which more akin to a concert hall, with her seat one of several on a raised stage looking out at several rows of silent, robed Death eaters, functionaries and of course, her own Inquisitors.

The stage seating was reserved for the various department heads, including a pensive and quiet Draco Malfoy. Lucius was not in attendance, and that was understandable considering the how much her star had risen and his had fallen. Ever one for punctuality, Umbridge rose, happy to be out of the uncomfortable chair. Her new shoes squeaked on the polished granite floor and the room grew silent as she made her way to the podium at the head of the stage. She gave a slight nod to the Inquisitors at the main doors. Her minions guarding the doors locked them securely, confident that anyone who was late to the meeting would not gain entrance and would, in fact, have an uncomfortable meeting with the new Deputy Minister to explain their absence. Delores placed her purse on the lectern and then walked out in front of it, clasping her whitegloved hands together in an expression of mock enthusiasm. Hem, hem. Welcome everyone! Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedules to meet with me about this very grave issue that confronts our administration. The department heads and I wish to announce our complete solidarit y with the Ministers intent to resolve this situation as expeditiously as possible. She swept her hand back and took note of the rather sour expression on Cornelius Fudges neck. She could barely contain a triumphant smile in Fudges direction, but he was irrelevant in the greater scheme of things. Instead, she turned her attention back to the men and women in the general seating. The Minister wishes to convey his regrets, but be assured that he is fully aware of what is going on. She took a moment to sweep the room with a penetrating and severe gaze. For too long, we have not worked together to accomplish our common goal, which is a society free of the blight of the impure. We have spent our time fighting each other, when the goals of the Dark Lord have not been met. This has allowed seditious elements within our society to promote a vicious and absurd lie. Together, we will put this lie to bed and move forward to forge the world which the Dark Lord has outlined for us, a world free of foreign influences and a world dedicated to order and stability. Not a sound permeated the room; no coughs, no movement, not even the restless rustle of breathing. Umbridge smiled slightly and brought her hands up to her lips. For over a decade, we have allowed this Order of the Phoenix to capture the imaginations of our citizens through their brazen terrorist attacks. They have even gone so far as to help resurrect the myth of Harry Potter. You have all heard the rumors and some have even seen this imposter at work. I say to you that it is impossible that an imbecile like Fred Weasley managed to conjure up this fantasy. I can only suspect that sympathetic allies of the Order in the International Confederation of Wizards is behind this. This time there were sharp intakes of breath, both at the mention of Harry Potters name and at the scope of the implied conspiracy. Umbridge was warming up to the subject matter. I have a three point plan to address this threat. First, we will begin by restructuring the ranks of the Inquisitors and the Death eaters. We will no longer work at cross purposes. The combined organization will be divided into teams and will coordinate the details of the rest of my plan. My team leaders will give you your assignments after this meeting concludes. The Death eaters in the room offered thinly disguised sneers of unmitigated hate at their Inquisitor colleagues. There was little doubt who would make up the leadership of the teams. Secondly, on the matter of the Order of the Phoenix, we will establish a categorical lockdown of the entire population. Only through aggressive action can we eliminate the cancer of rebellion in this society. The Inquisitors have a ready list of known or suspected seditionists in our society and we will excise them from our midst. Most of the crowd showed little or no emotion, although some of the Death eaters could be seen to be nodding their heads.

Lastly, we will crack down on our foreign guests, ramping up our surveillance to ensure none are helping to promote this falsehood about Harry Potter. She looked around, catching them all in her gaze. Make no mistake, wizards and witches, I will tolerate no resistance. Hard times call for hard measures and we must have the internal fortitude to do what we must for the sake of our society. She walked back to the podium and retrieved her purse. Now, return to your respective audiences where you will get your assignments. Some of you are scheduled for some debriefing interviews with either myself or members of my staff. Please make yourselves available for questioning, I would be most distraught if someone were to miss an appointment. Good day, everyone. She walked off the stage and ignored Draco, who was more sullen than when she began. Still, she felt the nagging sensation in the back of her neck that she had missed something, but for now, the Deputy Minister of Magic decided to return to her office. *** My decision does not meet your approval, Narcissa? The Dark Lord reclined in his throne. Over the past day or so, hed taken to sitting more in his seat of power than in his office. Narcissa Malfoy stood to his side. It is not my place to approve or disapprove of your decisions, my lord. I am concerned over my family, if that is what you are asking. Shed served Voldemort for the better part of twenty five years and this was the strongest rebuke shed ever offered. Familial sentiments are not in my nature, Narcissa. Lucius and Draco have failed me. Delores Umbridge has said as much. His tone was almost mocking and wry smile had formed on his face. Narcissa screwed up her courage and faced the Dark Lord, losing herself in the depths of his firered eyes, terror almost overcoming her. Delores Umbridge is only out for Del ores Umbridge, my lord. I doubt very seriously she serves because of her undying loyalty to your cause. And you serve out of loyalty, Narcissa? There was slight undertone of menace in his voice and she knew she had to be cautious. Yes, my lord, partially, but also because my goals are the same as yours; to rid the influence of the mudbloods from our society. She bowed her head slightly, half expecting an outburst. Yes, well, at least you tell me the truth, Narcissa. I, for one, trust no one. I neither like nor love anyone. After all these years, do you expect me to trust Ms. Umbridge? Narcissa shook her head silently. It is well that you dont. Ms. Umbridge provides a useful service to me, nothing more. As far as her ambition, I have taken steps to keep that in check as well. The Dark Lord rose from his throne, his musings more for his own ear than hers. No matter what the theory, I am convinced that the man who I saw in Azkaban was, indeed, Harry Potter. My lord, didnt you have some sort of connection with Potter? Wouldnt you have felt that connection reignite were he alive today? Voldemort stroked his smooth chin. Not necessarily. The connection may have been through his Horcrux, which was used to revive me after Snape s perfidy. Perhaps the connection is broken.

Narcissa nodded. My lord, how will you keep Umbridge in check? Its rather easy. He put his hands behind his back. I put someone in her office who is responsible solely to me. Voldemort looked at Narcissa and let out a small smile. Now, have you found volunteers who will duel with me to hone my skills? Yes my lord. All are mudbloods and some are former classmates of Dracos. Are you sure you want me to leave them their wands? Narcissa nodded to a guard at the end of the throne room. Of course, Narcissa. How else will I reinvigorate my combat skills if my opponents dont have wands. He beckoned for the guard to approach. Out of a small alcove, the guard led several bedraggled men and women out, wands in their hands, fright in every expression. The guard waved his wand and the manacle bindings dropped from their hands. One man, looking particularly thin and beaten, strode forward, his wand in his hand. Voldemort looked at the guard. My lord, these are all former Gryffindors. This one is named Jack Sloper. He was particularly reluctant to volunteer. The guard bowed his head and walked back towards the door. Voldemort turned his head at the five or so people standing before him . Let it not be said that I am not a merciful lord. In order to survive this day, all you need do is wound me. I will even keep my wand down and allow you the first strike. He saw the hesitation in their faces. Come now. It is not often you get a chance to strike at the Dark Lord. Strike, or I will strike you down where you stand. Jack Sloper stood there, the rest of the group watched him. His life had taken a decided downturn since Hogwarts, and he, like the rest, was barely eking out an existence, all because of the pillar of evil standing before him. His grip tightened on his wand. With a quick flick of his wrist, he unleashed a bolt of magic. Better to die on his feet than lying down, he thought. The blast was the most he could muster, but amid the smoke and ruin, all he could hear was the steady laughter of the Dark Lord. *** Ten minutes. Thats how long the sparring session had lasted. In the end, the five volunteers were no match for a reinvigorated Dark Lord, especially one wielding the Elder Wand. Despite the relative ease of his victory, Voldemort was annoyed with himself. In the past, I would have dispatched those wretches without a thought. Perhaps Ive let my mercy cloud my reflexes? Narcissa remained silent. It had taken time because Voldemort had decided to tease out the experience, much like a cat playing with a mouse. Hed extracted as much suffering and misery as he could from the victims. The one man, Sloper, had given the Dark Lord the most trouble, but in the end, he was no match for Voldemort. Sloper had taken the longest to die and when he did, it was in the most grotesque manner, causing Narcissa to turn more than ashen. Voldemort smiled. If it is Potter, Im ready for him. The battle delayed for s o long will come to fruition. When Im done with him, then I can turn my attention to truly leading this world. He sat with a flourish on his throne, the blood of his victims pooling just below his feet. There is a reckoning coming, Narcissa, and then we shall find who is loyal and who is ambitious. *** When they arrived back at Order headquarters, there was a party, of sorts, celebrating the freeing of so many lost comrades from Azkaban. The atmosphere was substantially more ebullient than the first time Harry and Ron had passed through. In the past few days, the Order had recorded some its most fantastic victories against the Ministry. Naturally, the security vise had clamped

down tighter. More and more of their friends and families were suffering from the depredations of the police state as the Ministry tried to get an idea where they were. Spies in the Ministry told of the power shift, of how Umbridge held sway in the Ministry and already plans were motion to change tactics to take on the Inquisitors. Neville, who already looked substantially better, took the news of Beatrices arrest with unusual calm. He looked at Ginny, who delivered the news, and offered up a comment that summarized what they were all feeling. If we could break people out of Azkaban, well be able to get Beatrice back. Ginny was stunned at Nevilles optimism. She looked over at Harry. His presence had made this mood change possible, yet she noticed his face had a peculiar expression. Shed noticed it after hed l eft his conference with Tesla. It was a look shed scarcely remembered until now. Shed last seen it when he decided to break up with her at Dumbledores funeral. It was a look that said he had a hard burden on his shoulders, one that he might not survive. Despite the hope and good feelings pervading the room, she couldnt help but feel afraid. From what she could read, they were far from done. Harry sipped his butterbeer. It had been years since hed tasted the drink. It harkened back to days long ago, when his mission was clear, if not frightening. Ron walked up and took a seat nearby. For a few minutes, the two friends watched as the festivities continued. Finally, Ron leaned in. So, what did Tesla tell you? Harry had been trying to avoid the details, but finally broke down. He told Ron about the Time Shifter and the memories and Einsteins theory about time. So, where can we find this Time Shifter? Harry told him and Ron sat back, stunned. Harry watched his friend observe the revelry, waiting for Ron to form an opinion, to process what hed heard. Many mistook Rons reluctance to comment and his emotional outbursts as signs of a dull intellect, but they couldnt be far from the truth. Harry knew that Ron had a very pragmatic way of looking at things, which was less about cynicism and more about taking into account all factors surrounding a problem. Typically, Ron was very Alexander in his style as cut through the Gordian knot of a problem by getting to the heart of the matter. We cant take these people into the Ministry, Harry. Theyre all on a very fine thread. You saw what the Inferi did to them. Theyre not up for this type of thing. Theyll make mistakes and it will get a lot of them killed. Ron watched as Harry nodded. Well have to do this ourselves. Well have to find a way to break in and get the stuff we need, without their help. Harry sighed. I was thinking the same thing. We cant keep what were planning to do from them. We need intelligence, but I agree, were going to have to do this ourselves. Telling Fred will be the hard part. Hell want to be in on it. No, telling Ginny will be the hard part, unless the handprint I saw on your cheek back on the ship was from Draco Malfoy slapping you silly. Ron laughed and Harry joined in. Well thats settled. As soon as we figure out how to handle the hard part, then all we have to do is figure out how to infiltrate the Ministry undetected, gain access to the memory archive and the Department of Mysteries, and get out, all while staying alive. Harry took a pull on his drink. Ron looked around and spotted Ginny staring at them with a concerned look. Yep, thats the easy part. He turned and saw Harrys gaze fixed on Ginny, the two oblivious of the riot ous atmosphere. Ron leaned forward and picked up a stein of firewhiskey. Piece of cake. He tossed the cup back and drained it.

Chapter 196 Back to Business The party came to an end with the revelers heading off to their homes or hideaways, based on the level of notoriety of the partygoer. Harry and Ron and decided to stay at the headquarters building, Fred having given them use of one of the dormitories in the space. The hour grew late and the skeleton staff that remained drifted off to their own beds and Ron settled into one of the bunk beds in the room for a nights sleep. Harrys brain was restless, the anxiety over his pending mission combined with the revelations of the past few days dancing wildly in his head. After a half hour of staring at the ceiling, Harry rose and walked out into the main work area. The room was dark and silent, no sign of any inhabitants. Harry was drawn to the small staircase on a nearby wall and was drawn to it by a hint of curiosity and nostalgia. The soft tread of his trainers made his passage silent and quick and he climbed the risers of the stairs and soon found himself exiting the old cupboard under the stairs at Four Privet Drive. The former Dursley home held no real sentiment for him. He never had pleasant memories here, either in his own timeline, nor, obviously, in this one. He walked out the front door and found himself walking along, reminded of journeys like this long ago, when he was trying to escape the depravities of his existence and he found that walking the neighborhood helped to clear his head. The difference between now and then was that Harry was much more aware of his surroundings, his head swiveling back and forth on the look out for the tell tale signs of trouble, but the night was clear, the stars hanging low as if sitting in judgment on the decisions he had to make. After a while, he was surprised to find himself standing outside the playground he used to frequent as a boy. The park was in disarray and disrepair. The swings had long been broken from their chains and the merry-go-round was tilted to the side, off its axis. The slide was marred with rust and holes and the sand box was more a trash pit than anything else. Harry drew his wand and pointed at one of the swing seats hanging from a single chain. Reparo. The seat rose and met up with another link, becoming usable once again. Casually, Harry sat down in the swing and tossed to and fro aimlessly as he tried to piece together the events that brought him here. He worked his way through his rough plan of getting into the Ministry, but could only get so far before realizing that he had no idea what had changed in the security and layout of the facility between his time and this one. His mind drifted to the assault on Azkaban and the without fail, he kept returning to the faces of the people who he met here. The ones that he had known to be dead that were alive kept him wondering if he was doing the right thing in trying to fix things, but those he knew to be alive that were dead, or worse yet, didnt exist kept intruding on this thoughts. Yes, he thought, it was wonderful to have Fred and Colin around, but what about George or Cho. Then there were the children. His own, to be sure, James, Lily, and Albus, but the others as well, Victoire, Rose, Hugo and Teddy. Harry chuckled to himself, how could he not remember the kids? They were the new generation. One untainted by the legacy of Voldemort and blood-purity. That was why he was trying so hard. Voldemort. The encounter at Azkaban brought his old enemy to the front. He hadnt changed much with the years. He still held the Elder Wand. Harry wondered if he could take the Dark Lord on. Sometime, he believed, as he tried to make things right, he was going to have to face Riddle and he didnt know if he had the power to do so. Dumbledore had defeated Grindenwald and taken the Elder Wand, so the wand wasnt infallible, but in the hands of someone like Tom Riddle, who knew? Harry would have to be ruthless, unfeeling and unwavering and that would be the difference. His thoughts finally went to Ginny. In many regards, this Ginny was very similar to his Ginny. She was strong and smart. The difference, he sensed, was that this Ginny had a tough outer shell that masked a very brittle inner core. Hed seen some of that the day hed returned to the Discooperire. The constant litany of loss and depression was taking its toll on all of them, but on her, he could see her despair, but Ginny was bold and tough and perhaps with some record of winning, she would rebound, but any type of setback could be catastrophic for her.

He sat on the swing, letting the gentle breeze carry him softly to and fro. He smiled to himself as the wind brought the soft scent of lilacs. Such was their timing, in this world and in his, she had an impeccable ability to know when he was thinking about her. His observation was matched by the soft pad of feet on the wind-swept dirt and sand of the playground. Shed found him. You shouldnt be out here alone, theres no telling where the Ministrys spies are. Youve become quite a target for them. She walked around to face him, her face pale in the wan half moon. Harry gave a slight shrug of his shoulders and watched as she repaired the neighboring swing and sat next to him. Im not worried if they find me, Ginny. Im perfectly capable of handling myself. She laughed, her light, delicate voice sending tingles down his arms. Ive noticed. Youre definitely not the Harry Potter I remember. I dont think anyone is the same as they were, Ginny. A decade is a long time, no matter what timeline youre in. He dragged his toes in the dirt, slowing his pace to match hers. Thats for sure. They swung silently, thoughts racing through their heads so fast that it seemed that Harry could hear them colliding. Ginnys voice broke through the silence. Whats your life like? Whats our life like, where youre from? Harry took a deep breath. The life he knew didnt exist, apparently, yet he remembered every detail, every nuance. Its perfect, Ginny. Its better than anything I could have imagined, its a life worth dying for, really. Were married, right? When did that happen? Ginny stopped swinging and stared at him. Not right away, we were both busy with our careers, and that almost ruined things. You were a Seeker for the Holyhead Harpies and I was going through Auror training. Harry thought back to how truly young they had been, and foolish, of course. The Harpies? I played Quidditch? Harry nodded. I havent been on a pitch since Hogwarts. There was always something more important to deal with. For a moment, she was lost in the memories, her devil-may-care flying in pursuit of the snitch overwhelming her senses. Then she returned and looked over to him. But we made it through, didnt we? We found out that we belonged together. Harry smiled. Yes, we did, with more than a little help from Ron and Hermione. She gave him a surprised look and he shrugged his shoulders in a what can I say? style. She nodded and he thought she turned a shade of red. Do we have children? Harry again nodded, his emerald eyes watering a bit as the memory of his kids drifted to him. Ginny stopped, as if the line of questioning was too uncomfortable for her, but then her curiosity got the best of her. Tell me about them, what are their names? Harry sighed and reached into his pocket and withdrew his billfold. He reached into the creases and pulled out a small photo taken of the family over the summer, just after theyd moved into their new home. It showed Harry and Ginny standing behind the children, smiling down at them and nestling close together in a flurry of repetitious movements. James and Albus stood on either

side of a small baby carrier, with Lily beaming outward to the camera. The boys were exchanging secret slaps at each other with the older boy instigating the teasing. The older one is James. Hes got his mothers personality, although I suspect hes closer to being like George and Fred than anyone else. Hes a trouble maker and a rogue and one of the funniest kids to be around. Albus is the other one. Hes as thoughtful as James is mischievous but he worships his older brother. Lily is the youngest and I confess, Im in a world of trouble with that one, anything she wants, well, she gets. Harry extended the picture to Ginny. She stared at it for a long time, the corners of her eyes misting at the sight. He couldnt tell if she was focused on the children or on the image of the couple, whose obvious love for each other was readily apparent to the photographer. The moment was awkward and tender at the same time, as this Ginny, with her years of experiences suddenly explored a world that might have been and it seemed to be what shed always wanted. Finally, she handed back the picture and Harry put it away. He smiled and the expression sent jolts of energy down to her heart. Im sorry, Ginny, I didnt want to upset you with all this. It mus t seem very strange. She shook her head. I asked, didnt I? They look wonderful, Harry. I really mean that. They sat in silence, assessing where they were and what was going on. Finally, she took a deep breath. I can see why you want to return things to the way you remember them. What if you cant? What if the way things are stay the way they are? Harry stopped his swinging and stood up. He turned towards her, his face serious and resolved. Then I deal with things as they are. I fight the fight that should have been fought, we defeat Tom Riddle and we reshape this world the way it was meant to be. I honestly dont believe that the Voldemorts of the world are supposed to win and if it takes a lifetime, Ill fight him until the bitter end. His strength seemed so alien to her, so much more mature than the boy she remembered. She stood and reached up and kissed him firmly, their embrace was tender, less urgent. Their lips met and the kiss was soft, reassuring slowly building in passion and love melding two flawed souls into one, single entity. She was glad when his arms enveloped her, taking her weight as her knees buckled from the release of the pain and the despair shed been carrying for so long. When the kiss finally ended, she rested her head on his chest, its firmness comforting her as he kept his arms wrapped around her. After a moment, almost in a whisper, she looked up at him. I never stopped loving you, Harry. When you died, part of me died. Ever since youve come back, Ive been afraid, because Ive felt stronger, more whole, but I cant help it, I loved you then and I love you now. I love you, too. He looked into her eyes and smiled once more. Something else is bothering you, though, believe it or not, I can tell. She blushed. Well, what if Im not the person you loved in that other time? What if I fall short? He laughed a little, not to belittle her, but on the memory of the past few days where hed found her remarkably similar to his Ginny. No, there as no this Ginny or his Ginny, there was simply, Ginny. I dont think we have to worry about that. From what I know, you are the same woman I remember. I have the mark on my cheek to prove it. She gave him a playful slap on his chest and then leaned in, allowing him to hold her. She shivered from the dampness of the early morning.

Why dont we head back? He put an arm around her and led her back towards Privet Drive. Youre looking a little chilled. I am, but He looked at her curiously, What? Suddenly the coquettish Ginny returned, a sly smile radiating through his being. I know a way to keep warm. She grasped his hand and led him back to the headquarters at a very rapid pace. *** The next morning, Harry found himself waking early. He felt the warmth of her body next to his and stared for a moment at her beauty. Her crimson tresses had fanned out, framing her porcelain face in a radiant glow of wildness and order, all at the same time. If he closed his eyes, he could see every feature, the curve of her lips, the angle of her cheeks, the placement of every freckle. She was his Ginny and he knew that no matter what, they would be together. Silently, he slid out of the bed and gingerly walked to the door. Whatever demons had been haunting her seemed to have subsided, because she slept soundly, peacefully and felt she needed to have a chance to enjoy her slumber. With one last look at her, he quietly opened the door and walked out. The main office area was relatively empty, with one or two people working through some parchment, intelligence reports from the previous night. Harry spotted Ron sitting at the break table, mechanically working his way through his second Danish and reading the morning copy of the Daily Prophet. Did you see this? Ron threw the paper down on the table while Harry poured himself a cup of coffee. It looks like Umbridge has taken over most of the Ministry functions. I cant imagine what Draco must think about that. Harry stole a glance at the story, with a byline by Rita Skeeter. It would be interesting to see how that all played out, but maybe, more importantly, they could use this to their advantage. Oi! You got up pretty early. Harry stared at Ron, a question on his face. You weren t in your bunk when I got up. Whereve you been? Harrys face flushed and Ron, being the superior professional investigator that he was, slapped a hand to his forehead. What is it with you anyway? Cant you just shake hands? Lets just focus on our mission, Ron, okay? With Ginny, its complicated. Ron chuckled. Not from where Im standing. Some things just dont change. Are you done? Harry seemed a bit annoyed. For now. So what do we do first? Ron picked up a doughnut and chomped do wn on it. Well, we need intel about the Ministry. I suspect were going to have to ask Fred for help. Have you told Ginny what youre planning? Ron asked and then smiled when Harry shook his head. Youd better. Ginny seems a bit more dangerous in this timeline. You should tell her.

Tell me what? Ginny was standing behind them and Harry watched as his friend found an excuse to leave the table and walk off. Ginny stood there with her arms crossed and that ever present toe tapping in expectation. This was his Ginny all right. Harry sighed, took a sip of his coffee, and then began to tell Ginny about the Illuminati Scientia and the Time Shifter. *** Draco Malfoy was not a happy man. He sat in his windowless office and stared at the encroaching walls as his Death eaters were being given assignments seconding them to Inquisitor leadership. His wife, Domina, had returned to London and subsequently reported to Hogwarts at the command of the Dark Lord. Draco felt a queasiness born of anxiety and fear; fear for his wife, whom he loved dearly and fear for his family as the recent events propelled Delores Umbridges star ahead of the Malfoys. For the time being, there was simply nothing Draco or his father could do, but wait things out. Lucius had experience in things like this, having seen his favor rise and fall in dangerous ways with Voldemort, but for Draco, this was new experience and he felt an urge to do something. Overriding everything was Dracos experience at Azkaban. Millicent had be en an idiot, to be sure, but the man everyone was convinced was an imposter, this Harry Potter, should not have been able to escape the noose that the Dark Lord and the Death eaters, yet he did, with relative ease. There was something about this person that troubled Draco. Memories from his years at Hogwarts, where Potter had been his foil, bubbled to the surface. Potter had been extremely lucky to survive as long as he had, but Draco had a grudging admiration for Potters sense of purpose. The boy had never seemed to waver in his belief and his mission. At first, Draco thought it had been because Dumbledore had been some sort of puppet master. Later, Draco had convinced himself that the traitor Snape had been pulling the strings, but as he reflected on things, he was forced to admit that somehow, Potter had been in command of his own being, had been driven to do what he attempted to do. It was something Draco saw in Potters eyes, from the first day theyd faced off on the Quidditch pitch and later du ring the duel club. When Potter was focused, his eyes blazed with a fire that was disconcerting and real. What wore on Dracos mind was that the man he saw at Azkaban had that same fire in his eyes and no potion and no spell could duplicate it. In the pit of his soul, Draco Malfoy was convinced that somehow, someway, Harry Potter was back, in the flesh. More disturbing, this version of Potter was skilled, confident and had the same focus that Malfoy remembered. Everyone else was wrong. His father, his mother, even the Dark Lord, was wrong about this being simply about someone pretending to be Harry Potter. The implications were startling, because Potters existence created doubt in the infallibility of the Dark Lords power. More than that, it threat ened the entire basis of the world they were creating. Draco was convinced that there was something fundamentally earth shattering about this new foe and he had to stop it. Of course, he was in no position to influence things directly. Delores Umbridge had seen to that, but there had to be a way to swing the pendulum in his favor. He was surprised that his father hadnt done more to prevent things from occurring. Draco straightened the folds of his robes. Maybe his father was losing his touch? If that were the case, the survival of the Malfoy family rest with Draco himself. Hed have to do something to blunt Umbridge, but most of all, hed have to stop this new Potter. He reached behind his desk and pulled at a small rubber tube. Hornsby and Gafney, I need to see you in my office right now. He replaced the tube and leaned back. While Umbridge may control the vast majority of his old teams, he still had a couple of aces in the hole and it was high time he used them. *** Umbridge finished sending out assignments. There were witnesses to bring in and evidence to collect. Fortunately for her, her newfound authority and manpower would allow her to leverage

her influence and destroy the powerbase that Malfoy had created. She had a list of wizards and witches that were to be brought in for questioning, under the suspicion that they were colluding with the enemy. Half the list had been compiled from the Death eater and Inquisitor watch lists, but the other half was comprised of those sympathetic to Malfoy, both inside and outside the government. The purge she planned would be swift and sure and would cement her position within the Ministry. It was only a matter of time before she dealt with these imposters and finally took her rightful place in the world. As she approached her office, her secretary, Sylvia, nodded her head. Your visitor is waiting for you in your office, Madame Deputy Minister. What visitor? Delores was meticulous about order and religiously adhered to a strict schedule. She knew that shed had no visitors scheduled. He is direct from Hogwarts, Madame Deputy Minister. His credentials are signed by the Dark Lord himself. The mention of the Dark Lord brought a hint of nervousness to Delores. She began to unconsciously smooth the front of her pink dress. Without a word to Sylvia, she walked into her office and faced the man seated at one of the chairs in front of her desk. The man rose and smiled. Ah, may I extend my congratulations on your promotion, Madame Deputy Minister? Umbridge felt the air suddenly exit from her lungs. Th-thank you. Is there some way I can assist you? Oh no, you see the Dark Lord told you that he wanted updates personally on the progress of your investigation. I am the avenue by which you will make your reports to the Dark Lord. Think of me as your liaison. The man offered a crooked smile revealing a row of jagged, misshapen teeth. Hem, hem Umbridge cleared her throat at the unexpected development. I was under the impression that I would make my reports in person. Oh, Merlins beard no. The Dark Lord understands that your time is very precious, given the severe gravity of the task you are assigned. No, he felt that having me assist you would be a better use of your time instead of having you traipse up to Hogwarts. Is there a problem with this arrangement? The mans smile never wavered. No, of course not. Im very flattered by the Dark Lords consideration and by the prominence of the representative he sent. No, Delores Umbridge was not happy with this, not at all. The man withdrew his hand from his pocket, causing Umbridge to look at it twice. It was silvery, made of a seemingly liquid metal fashioned into a usable appendage. Peter Pettigrew held the hand up to the light and chuckled. I like to think that Im the Dark Lords useful right hand. I would hope that you would consider me as such, as well. Now, why dont we go over that detainee list you have? Id be most curious as to how you came to putting th ose names on the list. *** You want to do what? Fred sat forward in his chair. He was seated at the large central table in the center of the Orders headquarters. Harry and Ron had just finished detailing what they needed to do. Tesla and Remus sat watching as Dean, Ginny, Colin, Dennis and Neville listened in. From the looks on their faces, their reactions were the same as Freds.

Harry sighed. Look, we need the memory and we need the Time Shifter. Ron and I are going to infiltrate the Ministry and steal them. Ginny spoke up. Thats insane, not to mention suicidal. The Ministry is impenetrable. So was Azkaban. Ron cut his retort short on a searing look from his sister. Dean raised his hand. Why not use the rest of us? We can help. I appreciate that, Dean, but this calls for subtly and deception. A squad of Order members racing in would be too hard to hide. Harry looked around and settled his gaze on Ginny. We have to do this, it will set things right. There was stony silence around the table as his friends worked through the problem. Finally, Neville raised his head thoughtfully. What do you need, Harry? Whats your plan? Grateful for Nevilles intercession, Harry exhaled. We need up to date intelligence on the Ministry; the layout, security, habits, everything. Fred looked at Harry and finally gave in. What else? We need a mark, someone whose presence wouldnt raise suspicion but who also isnt important enough to be too obvious. Harry watched as Fred scribbled something on a piece of parchment and handed it to a small boy standing nearby. I have an idea, but I want to confirm it with our agent in the Ministry. Fred placed his hands on the table. Agent? Youve got someone inside? Rons head look ed upward, his voice registering his surprise. Two, actually. Were not exactly novices, you know. We did manage to get this far without your help. Fred fought to hold back the bitterness in his voice, and failed. Im sorry, Fred. I didnt mean it that way. Ron tried to make it up to his brother, but Fred waved him away. Im sorry, Ron. He turned to Harry. Michael Corner works in the Department for the Regulation of Magical Creatures. Hes pretty low level and not what you need, I suspect. Our other agent is actually in the Obliviator squad. Despite all the drama, the Ministry still functions as a government. You might remember him, Harry? Theodore Nott? Fred was surprised at Harrys reaction. Instead of some diatribe about the Slyth erins and Death eaters, given Notts background, Harry smiled. Good. Its very comforting to know that no matter what, we are still the people we will always be. He didnt tell them that Nott had helped him in the past and was a very good potions professor at Hogwarts in his time. He did hope, however, that Theodore Nott was still good at potions. The most recent inventory of their supplies showed that they were running short. Maybe Nott could help them with what they needed. Is there anything else we can do? Ginnys voice was almost pleading as if she were holding on to the edge of a cliff and her fingers were slipping.

No, not really, Ginny. Harry hated disappoint her, but he could think of nothing else. Well, theres one other thing we could do to help. Everyone turned to face Neville. Whats that? Ginny looked hopeful. It would probably help to have as many Death eaters and Inquisitors out of the Ministry to pull this off. Nevilles words were starting to make Fred smile. What we need is a diversion. We need something big and public to draw them out. Theyre all looking for Harry and Ron. Ginny seemed skeptical. Fred nodded. Then I suggest we give them what they want, right in the middle of Diagon Alley. A sudden sense of dread overcame Harry. No matter how hard he had tried, his friends and family were going to put themselves in danger, in order to help him, again. Chapter 197 Mission: Impossible The activity level within the headquarters picked up as the Order made its preparations to create the diversion Harry and Ron needed. Theodore Nott and Michael Corner were seated in a corner with Harry and Ron, detailing the intricate security arrangements for the Ministry. Its not a simple matter of drinking polyjuice potion and you get in. You need some sort of verification of identity to proceed through the security desk. Nott sat back, his dark brown eyes highlighted black rings. He looked exhausted as his double life within the Ministry and with his family had clearly taken a toll on his spirit, although the ability to have a conversation with Harry and Ron seemed to lift his spirits. What do you mean by verification? Harry was furiously scribbling notes onto a loose sheaf of parchment. Nott ran his fingers through his hair and thought for a moment. Each level of security requires something to be delivered to ensure the validity of access, the higher the level of security, the more substantial the validation that is required. Ive heard tha t to get an audience with the Dark Lord, you need to draw your own blood. Anyway, to enter the Ministry, you need to present your wand, not for registration, but for validation, so simply disguising yourself as a person that works there isnt enough. W ait, you said there were levels of security, right? Does that include the Department of Mysteries? Rons question was a good one, since the entire mission was predicated on the ability to penetrate the Department of Mysteries and collect the items they needed. Corner nodded his head. Thats the case, Ron. In fact, only authorized wizards can get into the Department of Mysteries, so the not only do you have to find the right person, copy them and steal their wand, they have to have legitimate access to the levels you want to go to. Harry bit on the end of his quill, trying to figure out the right person to access. Who would be the one? Who should we go after that has the right level of access, but would not raise too much interest? Corner clapped his hands together. I know the perfect person. With the current climate, a Death eater would raise too much suspicion and an Inquisitor would be too obvious. The person Ive got in mind is too powerless to raise an eyebrow, but has enough access to get you in.

Nott looked over at Corner and smiled. Youre a devious man, Michael. You would have been an ideal Slytherin. Thanks, Nott, I think. Michael was smiling and leaned in and told Harry what he needed. *** The ever present gloom of the rain clouds kept most people away from enjoying a day out at the park, but the slightly built, hook nosed man didnt seem to mind the soft patter of raindrops on his overcoat. He ambled down the wet cement walkway, his head up, enjoying light smattering of water on his face. A sound caught his attention and he lowered his eyes towards a nearby shrubbery. He bent at the waist and cooed quietly, reaching his hand into his coat pocket. Soon enough, a small cat came out of the bush, its hair matted down from the persistent rain and the man smiled graciously. He stood up and toyed with the small tin can in his hand, fumbling with the removable lid. After removing the top, he placed the can of cat food down in front of the cat. The bedraggled feline tentatively smelled the food within the can and then pushed its nose into the center of the food. The man laughed to himself while he addressed the cat. My, my, youre a hungry one, arent you? The cat made no reply and continued to feast upon the food. Suddenly, the cat looked up, as if sensing a threat and hissed. The man looked around and spied two men approaching from the far side of the park. The cat took one more bite of food and then tore off into the underbrush as the two approaching men stopped nearby. The old man looked at them with a puzzled expression. See here, youve gone and scared her off then. The shorter of the two men chuckled while the taller; broader of the pair simply glowered at the old man. There was a sense of menace radiating from the two men which caused the old man to wonder who they were. The smaller man smiled slyly. Sir? Are you Mr. Umbridge? Who are you two? What do you want? The old mans voice was clipped and proper, but inside his pocket, his hands shook in fear. The short stranger repeated the question. Are you Reginald Umbridge, father to Delores Umbridge? The older man nodded slowly. Im Reginald Umbridge, but I havent seen Dee Dee in years. Why do you ask? Is my daughter in some sort of trouble? Mortimer Hornsby shook his head. No sir, not at all. Were representatives from the Ministry and weve been sent to retrieve you. Wed like to ask you some questions. Were trying to help Deputy Minister Umbridge with a problem. Deputy Minister? Reginald Umbridge couldnt hide the pride in his voice. Certainly, Id be more than happy to help, er Umbridge hesitated. Ill need some help getting to the Ministry, though. Im a squib, you know. Mortimer smiled deeply. Is that a fact? I did not know that. Its not a problem, Mr. Umbridge, we can transport you to the Ministry. Mr. Malfoy is looking forward to talking to you. Mortimer and Silas escorted Mr. Umbridge to a place where they could side-along apparate the old man. All the while, Umbridge kept mumbling to himself. Deputy Minister, how about that?

*** Borgin and Burkes occupied the space formerly held by Flourish and Blotts in Diagon Alley. The ownership owed a lot of its current regard by the Ministry to the patronage of the current Minister, Lucius Malfoy. Consequently, as with most days, it was the most heavily visited establishment on the Alley. The store was crowded with dozens of wizards seeking Dark Arts artifacts and books. It was also the center of the political class that supported the Dark Lords work in the Wizengamot. The back room was redecorated into something of a mens club where the well to do met to plot out the days political agenda. A tall, black man with high cheek bones and long, slanting eyes walked into the front door. Good afternoon, Mr. Zabini! Blaise Zabini ignored the call from the clerk standing behind the counter at the front of the store. Zabini was a delegate to the Wizengamot and a vocal supporter of all things pure-blooded. His contempt for muggles and anything related to muggles was widely known but it also caused him to studiously ignore the small house-elf that was sweeping the floor nearby. As Zabini walked towards the back room, the small gray gnome-like creature extended his hand towards the store front and whispered himself. Life for Dobby had not gone well since Harry had died. Hed resigned himself to despair, being free, but unable to attach himself to anyone that had the heart and dedication that Harry Potter had. Hed returned to Hogwarts and joined the Order of the Phoenix in its assault on Voldemort. He found himself fighting alongside the Weasleys with a particular affinity for Ginny, if only for the connection to Harry the girl had. With the battle lost, Ginny had sent Dobby into hiding with Aberforth Dumbledore at the latters pub in Hogsmeade. Over the years, Dobby found himself drawn back to Ginny, helping her from time to time until the rift. As Ginny had found herself drawn closer to Seamus, Dobby had seen this as a betrayal of Harrys memory. The diminutive house-elf could not know that his entreaties had played a part in delaying Ginnys final acceptance of Seamus, but when she finally married the Irishman, Dobby had removed himself from active participation with the Order. The past few days, however, Dobby had heard the rumors of Harry Potters return. His appearance at the Orders headquarters had come too late to catch Harry and Ron before they departed on their mission, but the house-elf jumped at the opportunity to help Harry once more. Consequently, when the front of the stores building exploded, Dobbys smile went from ear to ear. Zabini was thrown to the ground by the force of the explosion. He tried to clear his head by shaking it side by side and looked over to where the smoke and debris seemed to clearing. He saw several figures walking from the Alley proper and he shook his head once more. He couldnt be seeing what he was seeing. He looked again. He ducked behind a nearby display case and peered around the corner. Harry Potter and Ron Weasley were not more than ten feet away. Zabini crawled on his hands and knees and made his way to a side door. Once there, he sprang to his feet and ran down the Alley, away from the sound of fighting. Fred watched the fleeing figure running down the street and nodded over to Ginny. From their vantage point across from the store, they could see up and down the alley. Fred smiled grimly. Well, I guess we should expect some company soon. He gripped his wand tightly and waited for the alarm to sound. *** Harry tried to keep his pace slow and leisurely, much like he remembered the man who he was impersonating did. Beside him, Ron appeared to be a thin, bureaucratic functionary and his friend played the part remarkably well, staying to Harrys immediate right and bowing every so often in a sycophantic manner. They exited the floo and walked over towards the towering

security station between the floo entry and the atrium. Five tall Inquisitors and Hit Team members eyed them severely, and Harry was sure there was something about their appearance that was raising suspicions. Harry had been right. Nott had kept up his aptitude with potions and had a ready supply of polyjuice potion available for them to use. Theyd left early to sequester the men theyd impersonate and steal their wands. Now, the test as to how effective they had been was at hand. Harry walked up and presented his wand to the guard, followed closely by Ron. Mr. Fudge. Welcome back, sir. The greeting was perfunctory and delivered with a little bit of contempt. Harry had no idea how Fudge would react to such a display of discourtesy, but given that the Ministry operated on the notion of pretense and projection, he decided to play it straight. Is there a problem with your manners, Inquisitor? I dont recall any head of a department being talked to in such a manner, shall I raise this issue with the Deputy Minister? Harry was astounded at how reedy his voice sounded. The guard was taken aback and hesitated with his response. No offense intended, Mr. Fudge. The guard waved Fudges wand across a crystal which glowed a light green. He then took Rons wand and did the same. Mr. Wainwright, you are passed as well. Ron had donned the persona of Fudges personal aide, Kurt Wainwright, a timid, birdlike man with very little charisma. Ron simply nodded and began to follow Harry through the turnstile. A booming voice echoed through the atrium. Stand aside! Stop where you are and make way! The crowd parted revealing a wall of Death eaters and Inquisitors running through the Ministry. Harry grasped his wand tight. Theyd been found out. As he prepared to strike the first one down, Ron leaned over and spoke in an overly loud voice. Mr. Fudge, we should be going. You have an appointment in five minutes in Courtroom Number Ten. Harry took a deep breath and watched as the grim -faced wizards and witches ran past, heading for the floos. One of the guards called out to one of the passing Death eaters. Whats doing, Bob? His friend turned and shouted as he passed. The false Potter and Weasley have shown up back at the Alley. The response team ran past and Harry heard one of the guards whisper to his companion. Better them than me. I heard what happened to those Death eaters. I wouldnt want to tangle with them. They clamped their mouths shut as one of the attendant Inquisitors gave the pair a glaring look. Ron tugged on Harrys sleeve and led him towards the lifts. The first part of the plan had worked. *** Colin was thoroughly enjoying himself. He and his brother Dennis had volunteered to become the decoy Harry and Ron and they were laying waste to the interior of Borgin and Blotts. For years, Colin had worshiped Harry and considered emulating The Boy Who Lived as a high honor. When Harry had died, Colin attempted to keep up the fight. WWHD, what would Harry do? That was the creed he lived by and for years he did his best to follow. Slowly, though, the relentless tide of despair and loss had taken its toll. Colin was unsure about the direction of the fight and whether they could win. It was pure serendipity that hed run into Harry and Ron on the street that day. Now, hed been accorded the highest compliment. He was literally doing what Harry would have done and he was making the most of it.

Resistance in the store was minimal so Colin and Dennis set about systematically destroying the interior in an effort to make as loud a presence as possible. Furniture was smoldering and priceless Dark artifacts lay in pieces. Colin spun around as Neville walked into the room. Theyre coming! Get ready! Neville walked out and took up a position along the side of a wall. Colin nodded to his brother and the Creeveys walked out of the demolished store side by side. Together they stood in the middle of the Alley and waited. There were two ways the Ministry could attack from. One was from the Leaky Cauldron and the other from the direction of Gringotts bank. Ideally, they would come from one direction, leaving the Order a means to escape, but the Order over the years had been far from fortunate. Fred stared down the street and then behind him and saw the approaching Death eaters and Inquisitors coming from both sides. Fred nodded to Ginny who stepped from behind the box shed been standing next to. The approaching wizards had been fixated on Colin and Dennis and failed to notice as she, Neville, Ernie, Dean and Susan Bones stepped from their prearranged hiding places. Redacto! Ginnys voice was cold, firm as she aimed at the lead Inquisitor on the Gringotts side of the Alley. Fiery spells reached out and impacted in the center of both formations of Ministry goons and exploded. The battle was joined. Dennis peeled off to one way and Colin the other. Colin, because of his appearance drew the lions share of attention. He moved nimbly, carefully avoiding the traps being set. He let fly with a torrent of spells, sending walls and masonry flying as he engaged the ever growing crowd of enemy. Fred deployed his team to support Colin, knowing that hed be the focus of the Ministrys ire. Despite the support, the Ministry had come in full force and the battle was beginning to be very one sided. Fred watched in horror as Padma Patil went down in a heap and another of his team disintegrated in a cloud of smoke and fire. Dennis leapt across the open space and landed next to Fred, firing his wand. Well, it looks like our plan worked! Dennis took out another Ministry wizard and kept up the spells. Fred nodded and kept up the assault. They were boxed in between two large forces. Their decoy plan had worked, but now the real question remained. How the heck do we get out of this one? *** Harry and Ron exited the lift on Level Nine. With the alert that theyd been spotted even here, the guards that would normally watch the door to the Department of Mysteries had gone. Harry walked over to the door and entered, finding himself in the circular room that guarded the entrance. Apan Diyao. The Greek words caused Harrys wand to glow red and he held it up above the array of doors to the room. He came to the one labeled Archive and pushed open the door. Inside, much like the room that held his prophecy from so long ago, were rows and rows of small vials, thousands, perhaps millions of them arrayed on shelves that stretched as far at the eye could see. In the center of the room was a small desk and a frail, older wizard scribbling away furiously at the desk. Clive Scatterbaugh was much the same as Harry remembered, ever the cataloguer and organizer. He looked like a librarian amid his volumes of memories. Harry straightened his robes and walked up to the desk.

Scatterbaugh didnt notice Harrys presence until Harry cleared his throat. Oh, Mr. Fudge. Is there something I can do for you? Scatterbaugh placed down his quill and smiled. Yes, er, um, Yes, Im looking for a memory but I dont know where to look. Harr y tried to sound officious. Well, as you can see, sir, I have plenty of those around here. Scatterbaugh offered a nervous chuckle. Name of the person and approximate date of the memory? Harry looked over at Ron, who made a pretense of flipping the pages of a small book. Ron mumbled and then looked at Scatterbaugh. Yes, lets see. Kingsley Shacklebolt and were looking for the time when the Dark Lord finally took over the Ministry. Scatterbaughs brow furrowed and then he went to large drawer and pulled it open. Inside were stacks of index cards and he flipped through them. Finally, he turned to Harry and nodded. Follow me, sir. They walked among the rows until they reached a particular section. Scatterbaugh peered at the shelves and stopped. I have his last memory at the Ministry, thats a good one, its his death memory and we have his time with the muggle Prime Minister and some others, which one were you looking for? Ill take his death memory, that should be in the time frame Im looking for. Scatterbaugh nodded and handed the small vial to Harry who tucked it in the folds of his robe. Harry and Ron turned and returned to the circular entrance room. Ron smiled. Thats one, now lets get this Time Shifter thing and go home. Harry nodded and read the door labels until he found the one labeled Ancients. Any magical artifacts would be stored there. He opened the door and he and Ron walked in. What greeted them there took their breaths away. Ron and Harry stared at the room and swept their gazes around in abject shock. Where is everything? Ron stood with his mouth open. The room was empty, just rows and rows of dusty shelves. All the manuscripts, all the devices, everything had been taken. There was no Time Shifter. There was nothing at all. Harry felt a sadness rise in his throat as he stared down the long, empty hall. Chapter 198 Marauders Debt The corner of a nearby building exploded outward, showering them bits of brick and mortar as the Ministry forces pressed forward. Fred extended his arm and sent a spell down the Alley, catching a masked Inquisitor in the face sending him flying backward in a grotesque somersault of death. The Order had been fortunate, in that, the Alley constricted the number of enemies that could reach out to them at any one time, allowing Fred to keep their foes at bay, but the Death eaters and Inquisitors had strong numbers and the Inquisitors were fanatical enough to expend those numbers to get at Colin and Dennis. Ginny broke into the open and leapt to the pile of rubble that Fred was hiding behind. We cant stay here much longer. Theyre pushing on us from both sides. Ginny breathed out heavily, her mind on Harry, despite the desperation of their position. She watched as Colin narrowly avoided being struck by four spells from the front and behind. I think its okay for Colin and Dennis to leave their costumes behind. I think weve got their attention.

As if to punctuate her point, another blast exploded above their heads, raining dust and brick down on them. Fred nodded grimly and looked out over the Alley. Dennis! Colin! Time to be yourselves! He watched as both men reached into the folds of their robes and withdrew small vials containing a viscous orange liquid. Quickly uncorking the vials, Colin and Dennis poured the contents down their throats. Within seconds, they were back to their normal selves. There was a flash of light and Dobby was standing next to the pair, staring out at Colin. That is not the Harry Potter? Dobbys voice was sad, confused. Ginny shook her head and shot down an approaching Inquisitor. No, Dobby. We told you, Harry and Ron are on a different mission. Were just trying to provide them a decoy. The small house-elf nodded his head slowly. The curses from the approaching Dark forces were getting thicker. Here and there, Fred could see that he was losing people at a frightening rate. If they didnt get out of there soon, the Order of the Phoenix would cease to exist. We need a way out of here, or well be no good to Harry. Fred winced as a piece of flying metal grazed his arm. Dobby looked back up at Ginny, no more noticing the violence around him than if hed been at a day at the park. Harry Potter still needs our help? Probably. Ginnys teeth grit together as she let fly another spell, toppling a Death eater whod gotten closer. The battle had devolved into a common street fight, with no quarter being asked for and none given. Dobby stared pensively outward, as if noticing the enemy for the first time. You will help Harry Potter? Ginny nodded. If we can get out of here, of course. She hazarded a glance down at the hapless house-elf and smiled. Dobby wants to help Harry Potter. If helping Harry Potters woman will help Harry Potter, Dobby will help Harry Potters woman. Despite the fear and the horror of the battle, Ginny blushed furiously. Something inside her liked the sound of Harry Potters woman. It galvanized long dead feelings in her chest and she smiled wider at Dobby. Well, if you can get us out of here, Im all ears. Ginny shot at another Inquisitor whod drawn a bead on Neville. Dobby smiled. Dobby knows a way. *** Kurt Wainwright was not a brave man. Far from it, he was an absolute coward. When the masked men had seized him as he was coming home, he did everything he was told. Now he was seated on a small wooden stool, his body bound tight with rope that resisted his attempts to wriggle free. Hed been Cornelius Fudges aide for well over seven years. When hed sought the post, the confusion of the post-victory Ministry seemed to indicate that Fudge was a man on the rise. Hitching his star to the fortunes of Cornelius Fudge seemed to be a good move at the time.

Instead, Fudge had underestimated the sheer ruthlessness of Lucius Malfoy and the chicanery of Delores Umbridge, a woman Fudge had once thought to be an ally. Wainwright had made his choice, even though the years had seen Fudges fortunes decline. As he sat there, powerless, Wainwright wrestled with the idea that perhaps he could shift his allegiances. He didnt want absolute power, just a seat at the table. The Dark Lord, as hed witnessed, didnt have favorites. Perhaps the power upheaval hed witnessed would come again. Hed have to find a better patron, that was all. All he needed to do was get out of these blasted ropes. The front door opened and the sound of voices echoed through the entryway. His wife wasnt due to be home for another four hours, yet her voice rang through clearly. She wasnt alone. As she walked into the living room, her arms were slung around a tall, young man in a very compromising way. Both stopped in horror as they found Wainwright in the living room. Kurt. Youre not supposed to be home. Her voice said it all. Despite the awkward situation, Wainwright seemed to ignore her bout with infidelity. Danielle, untie me. Mechanically, his wife undid his bonds and he sprung free. He shouldered his way to the door. Still shocked, his wife tried to apologize. I wanted to tell you, Kurt. Im sorry. Wainwright looked at his wife and at her newfound lover. He shook his head. I dont really care what you do, Danielle. Have fun, I wont be home for dinner, or for anything else, apparently. Hed deal with her betrayal later. Right now, his only passion, his only goal was to get back to the Ministry and inform them of what hed seen. Maybe he was going crazy, but he was positive that hed been assaulted by Harry Potter and this information was something that Delores Umbridge would be interested in. Perhaps he could turn that interest into something more. He ran out the door, leaving his future ex-wife behind. *** What do you mean, Dobby? We cant apparate from here. Is there another way out? Fred scrambled over to the house-elf. The non-human warrens will lead you away, Fred Weasley. Dobby said somberly, as if betraying a great confidence. Ginnys voice grew excited. Warrens? You mean like tunnels, the ones that the goblins made at Gringotts? Dobby smiled. Not exactly. Humans have never really wanted house-elves and goblins to walk among them. Goblins and house-elves each built tunnels. Harry Potters friends can use the house-elf warrens to help Harry Potter. Where? Fred looked around and saw the circle drawing tighter. Dobby walked a few meters away and pulled on a heavy storm grate imbedded in the ground. Through here. Fred smiled. Everyone, mark my spot! Were getting out of here! He saw the faces of his surviving members look over at him. Neville, get ready to hide our escape. Neville nodded and drew a large glass orb from his pocket. The ball was made of glass with shimmering tendrils of light intersecting in a mad display of electricity.

Now, Neville! Everyone to me! Neville threw the ball down on the ground, shattering the glass. A loud reverberation of light and sound echoed through the Alley, stunning everyone who hadnt had a chance to shield their eyes. Neville ran towards Fred. Already, the Order members were dropping through the hole in the ground. Finally, only Fred and Neville remained and the two men dropped into the hole and Fred tugged on the grate, pulling it back into place. Fred dropped to the ground, a small rivulet ran through the sewer. The tunnel was relatively short, and Fred had to bend to make his way through. He made his way through the crowd of people and joined Ginny standing next to Dobby. Dobby smiled and held his finger out. A small bead of light emanated from the tip of his finger. This way. There is a way out, this way. Dobby struck out, the Order of the Phoenix following close behind. *** Harry and Ron stood blankly in the empty room. A voice broke the silence. Is there a problem, Mr. Fudge? Clive Scatterbaugh stood in the doorway behind the men. He was carrying an antique metal lunchbox, obviously on his way to a break. Harry shook himself. Mr. Scatterbaugh, where are the relics? I thought they were stored here. The old man gave Harry an odd look. The Dark Lord had them moved to Hogwarts for study, Mr. Fudge. Didnt you get the memo? Recovering quickly, Harry glared at Ron. Mr. Wainwright, did you withhold that memo from me? What kind of aid are you? Ron picked up on the banter. Sorry, Mr. Fudge. My mistake. Harry turned to Scatterbaugh. The Dark Lord brought them to Hogwarts for study, you said? The old man nodded. Of course. He said that he was the only wizard capable enough of understanding the items. Ron leaned in and whispered in Harrys ear. Most likely, he didnt want any powerful items getting into the hands of someone who can give him trouble. Harry nodded. Thank you, Mr. Scatterbaugh. Just then, a howling wail echoed through the room. Well, looks like theyre on to us. Ron quipped and turned to Scatterbaugh. Sorry, Mr. Scatterbaugh, but this is for your own good. Ron tapped his wand on Scatterbaughs shoulder, paralyzing the man. He turned to Harry. Weve got go, now! The two men ran out the door and headed up a nearby stairwell. *** While by no means an accomplished wizard, Delores Umbridge did know how to perform Legillimens. Kurt Wainwright sat in a chair, his body rigid, his eyes open with a blank stare. She knew how to do the spell, only not too well. Shed probably damaged the man beyond recovery, but shed seen enough. She turned to the Inquisitor standing nearby. Youre saying that Mr. Wainwright came through earlier, accompanying Mr. Fudge?

The man nodded soberly. Yes, Deputy Minister. Umbridges face grew serious. Arrest Cornelius Fudge and Kurt Wainwright on sight. Yes, Deputy Minister. The man turned and faced the inert form of the real Kurt Wainwright. And him? Umbridge turned her wand on the man. She spoke the words and an eerie green light struck him, rendering his immobility permanent. Send someone to collect the body later. Find the imposters. Umbridge watched as the man ran from the room. Most of Death eaters and Inquisitors were engaged in the fight at Diagon Alley. For her sake, she hoped those that remained would be enough. *** Harry and Ron exited the stairwell on the atrium level. Stop where you are! The voice came from the security desk, where an even score of menacing looking wizards and witches stood, blocking the entrance. Seemingly lulled by the benign appearance of Harrys disguise, they were stunned when Harrys wand snapped from its hidden sheath on his wrist and the spell that came from it. The spell landed in the center of the stone desk, destroying it. Ron and Harry moved together, rapidly dispatching the guards blocking their way. They could see the space beyond the desk where the floos were located. Suddenly, the floo network went wild with a symphony of smoke and light. Dozens of Death eaters and Inquisitors were returning from their battle at Diagon Alley. Momentarily confused, the Ministry thugs quickly recovered from their surprise and began to join the battle at the entrance. Harry pulled Ron back towards the banks of lifts and spotted more enemies exiting the cars. They ducked into the stairwell and ran down the flights of steps. Well, this isnt good. We need another way out. You know of any? Ron was slightly out of breath. The pair paused in the middle of a landing and took stock of their situation. Ron laughed. You look silly, you know. I guess we can shed these disguises. Harry nodded and he and Ron took their corrective potions to return to themselves. In answer to your last question, I dont have any idea of how to get out of here. Harry adjusted his satchel and listened as voices echoed from the door theyd left behind several flights back. Wed better think of something quick. We cant evade them forever. Harry nodded and heard voices echoing from the bottom of the stairwell, from the Department of Mysteries. They were caught between two converging forces. Harry pulled at Rons cloak and led him through a nearby door. Ron tapped on Harrys shoulder. Look! Were on Level Six! Level Six contained the Department of Magical Transportation. Maybe we can find a portkey! Harry nodded and the pair raced down the hall and stopped in front of a darkened office. Harry pushed the door open and stole inside, Ron following close behind. As their eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, a familiar voice called out from deeper in the office. Well, well, well, for imposters, you have very good disguises. I must commend your potion maker. Peter Pettigrew stood near a desk, his wand held tightly in his liquid-metal hand.

Harry felt a surge of hate and he made to raise his wand up. Pettigrew let fly a small bolt of magic, which stopped Harrys movements. I wouldnt if I were you. The Dark Lord wishes to have a conversation with you, and I wouldnt want you too damaged before he gets the opportunity. Pettigrew stared at Harry, taking in his every feature. I cant get over how precise the detail is. Who are you? Americans? Harry stared at Pettigrew and smiled. What makes you think that we arent who we appear to be, Wormtail? What are you talking about? Pettigrews hand wavered slightly, but not enough for either Ron or Harry to move. Harry Potter and Ron Weasley are dead. I saw their corpses myself. Its impossible for you to be Harry. Ron smiled. Come on, Scampers. Dont you recognize me? You shut your mouth! Anyone could know about that. Everyone in the rebellion knew that I paraded around as your rat for twelve years. Pettigrews voice wavered. Ron laughed. You see, you admit it. Why would you say youd been my rat, if I wasnt who I said I was? Youre twisting my words. Harry Potter is dead and you will pay for your defiance of the Dark Lord. Pettigrews mouth twisted in glee. Harry took a tentative step forward. Wormtail, you cant kill me. I gave you your life. You owe me a life debt, Peter. You betrayed my parents, yet I stopped Remus and Sirius from killing you. You owe me, Wormtail. You owe them too. All the Marauders, you owe them for your weakness. Remus and Sirius, James and Lily, you owe them all for what you did. Harry spoke softly and watched as Pettigrews eyes grew wide. You! It is you! But how? How are you here, Harry? The Dark Lord is so powerful, how did you get here? Pettigrew shook his head. Inside, he felt the doubt raging through his being. Isnt it obvious, Peter? The magic of my parents, my magic, is far stronger than anything Voldemort understands. You picked the weaker man to follow. Harry took another step forward and watched as Pettigrews hand fell to his side. No. Im sorry, Harry. Im truly sorry. His confidence shaken, Pettigrew didnt notice his hand begin to melt and fall to the floor until the pain radiated through his body. The hand that Voldemort had given him sensed Pettigrews betrayal. The failsafe that the Dark Lord had created within it began to take hold. The hand separated itself from Peter and hovered in the air. It shot up and snapped its cold fingers around Pettigrews neck and began to constrict. As the life began to choke out of him, Pettigrew fell to his knees and looked at Harry. I-I-Im s-s-sorry, H-h-harry. With his one good hand, Pettigrew reached into his pocket and threw a small piece of aluminum foil on the floor. Harry saw that it was the remnants of a chewing gum wrapper. He looked at Pettigrew, whose life was slowly draining away. With his last breath, Pettigrew choked out his last words. P-p-port k-k-key. Harry nodded and looked at Ron. Should we? I dont know Harry. How do we know it wont take right to Voldemorts throne room? Ron turned to the door as more shouts told them that their pursuit had arrived on this level.

I dont see that we have much of a choice. Harry said. Ron nodded and they knelt on the floor near the gum wrapper. Harry looked over at the lifeless eyes of Peter Pettigrew and with Ron, touched his hand to the wrapper. In a split second, they were gone.

Chapter 199 Special Places Harry and Ron winked into existence in the alley off of a small town square. The place was reminiscent of a quaint English village, complete with a post office and an old war memorial in the center. The sky was dark, both from a receding sunset and from the murky overcast sky. The rain came down in earnest and Ron and Harry pulled their robes tightly over their chests. Where are we? Ron looked around and then turned to Harry who was standing still, seemingly unaware of the deluge around them. Harry? Harry shook his head and realized looked back at his friend. Were in Godrics Hollow. Were near my parents house. Harry looked closer at the war memorial. In his time, in the world he remembered, thered been a small monument to his parents, something only wizards could see. It was a cast statue showing James and Lily Potter holding their infant son. As he gazed at the memorial, the statue was gone. In its place, was a large statue of Voldemort, his head looking up, his arm extended to the sky, holding the Elder Wand. A plaque was mounted on the pedestal beneath the statue. This stands as testament to the power and glory of Lord Voldemort, the greatest wizard to ever live, in his mission to smite the unbelievers from this world. None shall stand, as long as the Dark Lord reigns. Ron couldnt tell if Harrys eyes were full of tears or whether it was just the rain coming down on his friends face. Regardless, Harry wiped his face with the back of his sleeve and prodd ed Ron to follow. They walked together in the rain, all the while keeping relatively silent. Harry seemed fixed on a destination and it was left to Ron to keep an eye on their surroundings. They left the square and walked to the edge of town until Harry finally stopped before an open plot where a house once stood. In its day, it had been a handsome house, but this one had fallen in disrepair with the entire second floor devastated by what appeared to have been an explosion. A decade of constant rain and misery had allowed the rest of the structure to rot in place and a loneliness borne of sadness and despair hovered over the entire property. Ron stood back as Harry neared the gate of site of his parents deaths and the starting point of his life. A small sign stood next to the gate entrance. In bold, fresh letters, the sign read: This is the lot of those that would deny the Dark Lord. Remember, the Potters, fools to resist that which is all powerful. There was a small flourish of writing showing the signature of Lucius Malfoy. Harry bent his head low and searched the nearby underbrush. Further down, near the broken fence, there was another sign, its wood cracked and burnt. Harry reached down and pulled it from its resting place. He drew his wand and with a flick of his wrist, sent the Ministry marker flying into the atmosphere. With a quiet, loving voice, Harry turned his wand to the battered sign hed found. Reparo.

The sign reconstituted itself and Harry set it up on the dais that held the former sign. Ron moved forward and read the words that Harry had restored. "On this spot, on the night of 31 October 1981, Lily and James Potter lost their lives. Their son, Harry, remains the only wizard ever to have survived the Killing Curse. This house, invisible to Muggles, has been left in its ruined state as a monument to the Potters and as a reminder of the violence that tore apart their family." Harry smiled to Ron and looked around. Harry and Hermione had come to Godrics Hollow on Christmas Eve during their Horcrux quest. Ostensibly, it had been to find Bathilda Bagshot, who, it turned out, had been murdered by Voldemort and substituted for by the snake Nagini, but what Harry had remembered was the sentiments that had been written by visitors to this house and he searched out for signs of those messages. Some were still there, written in careful hand. Way to go, Harry! and Were with you Harry! But the history of this world was also reflected. Im sorry, Harry! Why did you leave us, Harry? The signpost was a testament to the history of pain and loss that was the hallmark of this place. Harry didnt know why Pettigrew had brought him here and he asked Ron as much. Ron shrugged his shoulders. Maybe he was living with the guilt for all this time. Maybe, he came here on his own to apologize? Maybe, but theres something about this place that he wanted us to understand, something that he wanted us to retrieve. Harry looked back at the hulking darkness of his parents house. What could it be? Ron stared into the first story window that had been Harrys birth home. Theres only one way to find out. Come on. Harry led Ron through the battered wooden gate and into the Potter home. *** Augusta Longbottom was a feisty woman, irrepressible in her commitment to her son, Frank and his wife, Alice, once Aurors and now irretrievably lost in a hazy mental state as a result of their endurance of repeated Cruciatus Curses at the hands of Barty Crouch and the Lestranges. On the surface, the formidable old woman could seem callous in the treatment of her son and of her grandson, but when Neville was captured a year ago, a chink was exposed in her armor. Shed withdrawn from active membership in the Order and rarely left what was left of the estate shed called home. For that reason, when Neville showed up at her front door with the surviving members of the Order in tow, she let loose with an uncharacteristic display of affection for her grandson. Well done, boy. Im glad you were able to tough out your incarceration. She said after placing a light peck on Nevilles cheek. Small words for some people, but for Neville, it was as if his gran had buried him in a hug and was weeping openly. He smiled shyly as she ushered them inside. Later, after a well-deserved bite to eat, the remaining members of the Order gathered in Augustas sitting room to take stock of where they were. Weve heard nothing of Harry or Ron. Fred sat in a large, faded chair in front of the fire. Thats probably good news, considering the fact that the Ministry would have to play up their capture, if anything, to win the public relations battle. What if they return to Privet Drive? No one is there and given the most recent events, we have to assume that the headquarters is compromised. Ginny said wearily, her mind racing to Harry, wondering if he was all right. She dreaded these moments. They reawakened the fears shed thought were long gone.

Colin is watching the Privet Drive location, should Harry and Ron show up there. For now, thats all we can do. Fred was as frustrated as his sister. Theyd risked much to gain Harry the time to perform his task, but given the fact that they were still here, that things had not changed, he could only assumed that something had occurred that prevented Harry from succeeding. The news out of the Ministry had been scarce. Both Michael and Nott were still at the Ministry with a lockdown of the site completely in place. For now, all they could do was wait. There is something we could do. Neville spoke softly, his mind running through the possibilities. Whats that, Neville? Ginnys voice was desperate, eager to find Harry and know he was all right. Neville smiled and shrugged his shoulders. We send someone to go find Harry. *** The Hogwarts throne room was filled to capacity. The Dark Lord paced irritably on the raised stage, his hand fidgeting with the Elder Wand. Rows of Death eaters and Inquisitors stood silently as Voldemort expressed his ire over the events of the past day. Already, five bodies, the survivors of the security desk detail whod allowed Harry and Ron to infiltrate the Ministry lay dead at the Dark Lords feet. How is it possible, that among all of you, all of the forces that this pitiful country can manage, that two pretenders can saunter in to the most secure place we have and walk out undetected? Voldemort paced furiously, his anger searching for a new focus. Lucius Malfoy stood quietly behind the throne. Throw in Azkaban to the mix, and youd see that whoever this was, real Potter or not, this fugitive was very good. Malfoy had intentionally stayed away from this project, allowing Umbridge to assert herself in the mix. Lucius Malfoy had survived as an original Death eater, and as a member of society by following one simple rule. If your enemy is choosing to commit suicide, dont stand in the way. He was very curious to see how his Deputy Minister wrangles her way out of this predicament. Delores Umbridge looked calm and cool, but Lucius saw the slightest consternation come over her face as the Dark Lord turned in her direction. What do you have to say for yourself, Ms. Umbridge? You committed to finding these people and you instead, let them waltz right into your Ministry. Voldemort stopped in front of the diminutive woman and gazed directly into her eyes. Hem, hem, my lord, if I may, I am as distraught about these events as you are. Umbridges eyes scanned the room, looking for someone in particular. I highly doubt that your disappointment even matches my own, Ms. Umbridge. I would tread lightly, if I were you. The Dark Lords voice was quiet, almost conversational, which was a key indication to Malfoy that someone was going to die, and soon. Yes, my lord, I understand. What I meant was we had begun our investigation, but in my mind, the assistance we were being rendered by Mr. Draco Malfoy has been less than helpful. I would daresay that this fiasco could be laid at his feet, considering his inability to keep his Death eaters in line. Umbridge was trying to deflect the blame onto Draco. Lucius felt his pulse quicken, annoyed at her blatant attempt to discredit his son, but also afraid of Dracos own reaction. His son was far too mercurial to be trusted to keep his wits about him. Lucius looked over at Draco and was surprised to see his son with a placid, self-satisfied grin on his face. The Minister of Magic didnt know what he feared most, his sons usual inability to keep control , or the fact that Draco seemed to be up to something. Either one could easily upset the careful equilibrium that Lucius maintained that had kept them alive.

Voldemort turned to Draco who didnt waver under the Dark Lords stare. That is a very serio us accusation, Mr. Malfoy. One that would bring death upon you, were it true. Draco nodded calmly. If it were true, my lord. Are you saying that you have reason to doubt our esteemed Deputy Ministers veracity? Voldemort looked back at Umbridge who cringed. Yes, my lord, I am. Considering she has been responsible for the enforcement of the blood purity laws, I find it interesting that shes deceived her own Ministry and you, my lord, by not revealing that she is the daughter of a squib. The law is specific and it is merciful. The offspring of squibs must register themselves, if only for research purposes. Deputy Minister Umbridge has made no attestation to fact that her father is a squib. If shed lie about that, she is capable of lying about other things, my lord. Draco stared triumphantly at Umbridge and then hazarded a glance at his father, who subtly shook his head. I see. You have proof of this? You can prove that Ms. Umbridge is the daughter of a squib? He looked over at Umbridge, whose face was locked in shock. Yes, my lord. I have Mr. Umbridge in custody as we speak. As for the events of today, I find it convenient that Ms. Umbridge failed to mention that she sent the majority of our forces to Diagon Alley to chase after a phantom sighting of the renegades, leaving the Ministry relatively unprotected. Draco was starting to enjoy this. He would have allowed himself an open grin, but the look of disappointment on his fathers face prevented him from doing so. Is that so? Voldemorts attention was now fully on Umbridge, who, much to Lucius surprise, was at a loss for words. Well, Deputy Minister, it would seem that we have a difference of opinion. The Dark Lord looked back over at Draco. You think that Ms. Umbridg e has erred in her judgement? Draco nodded. Considering your failure led to her promotion, why should I think you have a better solution? Draco took a deep breath. My lord, I work from the worst case. In this circumstance, that would mean that the two people we are searching for are, in fact, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. Voldemort raised up his head and positioned the tip of his wand at Dracos neck. Lies, you are propagating lies, Malfoy! Draco struggled to breath, but continued. Even if we assume that they are imposters, my lord, the path remains the same. Voldemort withdrew his wand. What do you mean? Draco rubbed his throat. What I mean, my lord, is that everything revolves around Potter. We must look in the places that Potter went. We must seek him out among the people that Potter knew. The bottom line is that we must treat the search for these people as if we were actually looking for Harry Potter. The Dark Lord nodded slowly. What else? Draco cleared his throat. My lord, we must also find out what they were looking for. You are correct, the Ministry is one of the most closely guarded places, so why would these imposters hazard breaking in? We must find what they took and why it is important. Very well, Draco. I want you to see to it, personally. You are now in charge of this investigation, including all Inquisitors and Death eaters. Ms. Umbridge is relieved. He stared around the room. Now leave me, and see to your duty, Draco. I am growing weary of the failure.

The room cleared rapidly, if they could have run out, the people would have. Umbridge turned to walk out, clearly her credibility shot and she could barely believe her good fortune that she would survive. Shed find a way to get back at Draco Malfoy. The key was her father, if he were to have an untimely demise, then any proof of her parentage would disappear. Her father was a loose end, and shed see it sorted out soon enough. As long as she was alive, she could fight, and that was all that mattered. Ms. Umbridge, Id like a word, if you please. The Dark Lords voice shattered her sense of security. She turned and faced Voldemort, whod returned to his throne. Voldemort motioned to his guards and one took a position on either side of her shoulders. The Dark Lord twirled his wand menacingly. I so like to hear all sides of the story, please stay for a chat. The large doors to the throne room crashed shut, locking Delores Umbridge inside with her fate. *** Draco walked out into one of the many courtyards of the castle. The student life at the wizarding school had radically changed. There was only one house, Slytherin and entrance to the academy required passing a stringent genealogical test that ensured the purity of the students ba ckground. Attendance was mandatory for all wizard families and the indoctrination into the Dark Lords philosophy was a staple of the curriculum. Draco felt flush with excitement, his undercutting of Umbridge had been a masterstroke. He waited expectantly as his mother and father joined him. What do you think, father? I think it was quite the plot to remove Umbridge from the mix. Dracos grin seemed out of place as the scowl on his fathers face and the anxious worry on his mothers reached him. Lucius barely looked at his son. You fool! You think that you were the only person to ferret out Umbridges parentage? You may have doomed this entire family with your pigheadedness. His fathers tone jolted Draco out of his reverie. What do you mean? Shed been undermining you since the day she got there. I saved this family. His tone was confident, yet inside he felt a slight feeling of uncertainty. Draco, Umbridge served a purpose. While this matter of Potters reappearance was around, we could deflect scrutiny to her. Not only have you removed her as an object of the Dark Lords rage, you have focused that attention on yourself and by extension, on us. Lucius couldnt speak, his rage and fear binding up his tongue. Narcissa stepped forward. What your father is trying to say, Draco, is that there was a time and a method for the use of that information. Now, you are on the chopping block. If you succeed, you survive, but any setback will be catastrophic. You know that. Impatient brat! You let your ego overwhelm whatever good judgment you might have possessed. Lucius railed at his son. You placed yourself at the forefront of the Dark Lords wrath. Youve undone decades of work that your mother and I have done to keep this fami ly alive and in power. As I see it, there are only two possibilities that will allow us to survive. What are they? A much more chagrined Draco Malfoy asked plaintively. For a split second, he was their little boy, looking for help. Either you capture this imposter quickly, or we hope that this is the real Harry Potter and he takes down the Dark Lord once and for all. By the look on his face, Lucius Malfoy didnt really think that either plan had a good chance of succeeding. ***

Harry and Ron walked into the front door of the Potter home. Harry was struck at the sheer ordinariness of the place. He could picture, in his minds eye, his mother and father holding him, playing with him, loving him in this very room. In his previous time, the time he knew, he never entered the house. It remained a shrine to their memories and he didnt want to break the spell of wonder that it held for him. Maybe hed change that if he got the chance. Ron followed closely behind, mindful of the powerful emotions that stirred in his friend. If I were Pettigrew, where would I hide something important? Ron said, as much to himself, as he did to Harry. Harry looked around. We know hes hidden things before. Remember, he returned Voldemorts wand to him, so he had to have it somewhere around here. Ron nodded. Weve got to think like a rat. He was here when Voldemort killed your parents, so he had to have been a rat when he hid the wand. Good point, so if I were a rat, where would I hide something? Harry stared at Ron who rolled his eyes and then a look of inspiration came over Ron. The basement! You always find rats in cold, dark places. Ron smiled and Harry nodded. The pair walked into the kitchen. There were chipped, broken tea cups on the table, as if his parents were in the middle of enjoying a conversation together when Voldemort came. There was a door off the kitchen that led down into the basement. The stairs were concrete and the place smelled of mold and decay. Harrys parents had apparently not been in the home long enough to accumulate the flotsam and jetsam of items that tended to congregate in a basement. The place was open, empty. Harrys eyes were drawn to a small hole near the floor. He pointed it out to Ron. That looks like a rats hole. Ron nodded and Harry walked to the wall and tapped around the hole with his hand. Bits of concrete and mortar broke away revealing a small cubby hole. Harry smiled. Theres something in there. Harry reached in and pulled out a hea vy plastic bag. Inside, there was a metal box. The box was lined with rust and cobwebs, but still intact. Harry opened the latch and tipped open the lid. Inside was a battered leather book, two pieces of cloth and some assorted pieces of parchment. Harry flipped through the book, his voice becoming serious. It looks like his diary. After reading it for a few seconds, he threw it down in disgust. Its mostly Pettigrew trying to justify his actions, my parents, Cedric, restoring the Dark Lord. The res nothing here that can help. It stops right after my death. Harry took up one of the pieces of cloth. It was wrapped around a thin, cylindrical object. Harry carefully unwrapped it and soon was holding a wand in his hand. It was of a dark, hard wood, but pliable, about eleven inches in length. Harry let out a gasp and held the wand as if it were made of electricity. What is it? Ron looked over at Harrys ashen face. Its my fathers wand. Ive always wondered why he faced Voldemort without it. Harry slipped the wand down into his pocket and unwrapped the other cloth. Out fell another wand. It was of a lighter wood, a little over ten inches long and swishy if there was such a word. It was his mothers wand. Harry reached down and picked up the Pettigrews diary and flipped the pages to the week preceding his parents deaths. He read for a few minutes and then let out his breath. Im glad Pettigrews dead. Harry said with finality.

Whys that? Ron looked over at Harry, concerned. Harry sighed. My parents didnt have their wands when Voldemort came. I thought it was because they simply didnt have time to retrieve them, but Pettigrew snuck in that night. He was in his animagus form. They kept their wands in the kitchen. While they were bathing me, he stole their wands and hid them in the basement. Ron looked at the pain on Harrys face. He put a gentle hand on his friends shoulder. Im glad hes dead too, then. But Harry, what good will these do for us? Voldies got the Elder Wand. Harry nodded and put his mothers wand in his pocket next his fathers. Youre right. Harry rummaged through the parchment that was left in the box and then froze. He pulled out a large piece of folded parchment and smiled. Now this, this we can use. What is it? Ron looked over and then his eyes widened. Harry tapped the paper with his wand. I solemnly swear that I am up to no good. An up to date map of Hogwarts appeared on the map. Little markers highlighting people were moving on the map. Harrys eyes dwelt on the icon in Dumbledores old office. It said, simply, Tom Riddle, Jr.. It was next to one labeled as Delores Umbridge. Suddenly, the Umbridge marker flared briefly and then winked out of existence. It would appear that we dont have to worry about Umbridge. Harry commented. Ron reached a finger and pointed at a courtyard. Yes, but the Malfoys are still around. Harry nodded. My Marauders map is in my study at home. I wondered what had happene d to it in this timeline. Apparently Pettigrew took it. Ron said. Apparently. Harry looked at the map once more. Mischief managed. The map went blank. Now we have a way to get into Hogwarts. So, what do we do now? Go back to the headquarters? Ron asked. No, Fred said that the increased scrutiny would compromise the place. Harrys mind drifted back to Ginny. So where do we go? How do we catch up with the Order? Ron looked around, wracking his brain for an answer. A loud bang and a whiff of smoke caused them to draw their wands and face in the direction of the disturbance. In the middle of the basement, a small house-elf wearing a soiled pillow case smiled revealing a row of jagged, yellow teeth. Harry Potter! Dobby is so glad to see you alive! Dobby helps Harry Potters woman, because Harry Potters woman helps Harry Potter. Harry smiled over at Ron as he tried to ply Dobby from his leg. Ron laughed and shook his head. Ask a stupid question Chapter 200 Closing the Circle

Draco stormed into his office and sat down forcibly in his chair. The conversation with his parents was disturbing, not because he disagreed with them, but because they were right. Hed shifted the focus of responsibility squarely on his own shoulders, and no matter how competent and efficient an investigation he ran, any failure would rest with him. One thing his father had said troubled him greatly. There was, of course, an option whereby he would ferret out Potter and then hed look like a champion. The other possibility was harder to contemplate. If it was Potter, and he did defeat the Dark Lord, then what would happen next? His mind reflected back on the past ten years. Draco had not been a choirboy when it came to behavior. A victory by Potter would mean a radical shift in the center of power within the country and the Malfoys would be on the outside looking in. His fortunes were tied to those of the Dark Lord. Or were they? That was the question. The point of fact was that even if the Dark Lord was taken out, a huge power vacuum would exist and an opportunity to fill that void was possible if he and his parents were to act on it. Was that what his father was alluding to? It would bear some further thought. The task at hand was to anticipate where this new iteration of Harry Potter would appear. The key was the infiltration of the Ministry. Draco reached into his inbox and withdrew the reports of the incidents. It was unfortunate in one way that the Dark Lord had chosen to kill the Ministry guards, since what Draco was lacking was information. Potter had stolen a small memory from the archive, one surrounding the last thoughts of Kingsley Shacklebolt. Why had Potter risked so much to retrieve that memory? Potter had also gone to the Ancients vault, which was empty, expecting to find something else. Was that tied to the memory hed taken? Draco placed his hand on the bridge of his nose. He was missing something in all this, a relevant fact that would tie it all together. I heard you stepped in it. The voice from his door was both sultry and cold at the same time. His heart raced unabated as he looked up. The woman was pale, almost ashen with stark beauty that seemed to assault his senses all at once. She had long, platinum hair, almost white that fell down below her shoulders and framed her delicate face like a portrait. She had dark red, full lips which were pursed in quiet discontent and she shook her head slowly. Domina Malfoy was a formidable woman and someone that Draco loved with great conviction. Thats one way of putting it. Draco stood and motioned to a chair sitting in front of her desk. She moved with a grace that struck him and sat down. I miscalculated in my zeal to deal with Umbridge. Domina sat quietly and stared at her husband. Scorpius was growing rapidly, although her involvement in the day to day doings of their son was almost nonexistent. She gave Draco a severe look. What do you intend to do about all this? Draco shrugged his shoulders. What can I do? Ive got to locate this man and bring him in. Its as simple as that. She nodded. Not as simple as you would think, I suspect. Where are you with all this? Ive decided to operate under two premises. One, that this is the real Potter, or someone convinced they are the real Potter, so we have to go back to places that the real Harry Potter knew or held dear. Ive sent teams to investigate his muggle relatives and to the Burrow. The other premise is that Potter wasnt a fool, why did he have to infiltrate the Ministry? What was he after? Draco held out his hands with the palms up. And? Thats the problem. What was taken was a memory that has no real bearing and what he was after in the vault of the Ancients is unknown. Im missing something and I dont know what it is. Draco leaned back in his chair and stared at his wife, his frustration beginning to show.

For the first time in months, it seemed, Domina smiled sympathetically at her husband. She looked down at the reports and then looked back at him. It strikes me that there have always been reasons for this new Potters actions. The assault in Diagon Alley was a diversion for his infiltration of the Ministry. He went to the Ministry to retrieve some items. She looked at Draco and saw that he still looked confused. She sighed heavily and leaned over the desk. The question is, Draco, why did he attack Azkaban? To release the rebels being held there. Draco stated, but his brain was starting to work overdrive. He nodded slowly. He was there to release someone in particular, someone specific. She nodded. Draco picked through the documents on his desk and pulled out a report from Azkaban. He murmured to himself as his eye rested on a single name. Nicola Tesla. That was the high profile prisoner he released. He snapped his fingers for one of his underlings to come into the room. Domina looked at him curiously while Draco sent his aide out searching for some reference material. Tesla was responsible for a lot of items that were in the Ancients inventory. Perhaps Potter was looking for something that Tesla made? Draco smiled at his wife and stared at Teslas name on the page. *** What does the time shifter look like? Harry asked Tesla as the leadership of the Order of the Phoenix met in Augusta Longbottoms living room. Tesla thought for a minute. Its underlying structure is a pocket watch, a little bigger than a normal size, roughly the size of my hand. On top of the watch face is a time turner device, but made of platinum, not gold. Tesla drew out a rough sketch on a piece of parchment. Whats the significance of the platinum? Ron asked. Tesla smiled. Gold is for time travel, at least, going back in time. Platinum is the b est conductor of changing time lines. So were not going back in time? Harry asked. Tesla looked around the room and shook his head. No, youre just resetting the timeline to the one that was modified. Since you and Ron were here, you would be missing from the other timeline. Whatever time has passed while you are here, would have passed without you in the other time line. Ron looked around the room. Will we remember what we saw and felt here? Tesla nodded. Yes and theres something else. If you or Harry get injured in this timeline, your injuries will transfer when you go back. What if they are killed? Ginnys voice floated above the discussion, asking the question that Harry and Ron had wanted to ask. Then they will die in both timelines. If you are killed in your attempt, you are dead, period. Teslas voice was serious and severe. I guess well just have to survive, then. Ron quipped, although his face didnt have the look of frivolity he was trying to convey.

Harry nodded soberly and turned towards Slughorn. Horace, whats the situation at Hogwarts? Where would Voldemort store these items? Harry laid out the Marauders Map on the coffee table. Slughorn grimaced. You understand, Harry, I was dismissed almost five ye ars ago, so things might have changed since then. Harry nodded and Horace leaned down and pointed at the map. The Dark Lord took over Dumbledores office area and turned it into a throne room. I have no doubt that some of the items are there. He had an insatiable interest in those items, so hes probably tried to figure them out. The rest are probably kept in the Ravenclaw dormitories and common rooms. What about the students? Ron asked and was met with solemn stares. There are no Ravenclaws, Ron. Theres no Hufflepuffs or Gryffindors, either, only Slytherins. The Slytherins took over the Hufflepuff dormitories and the Slytherin dungeon has been converted back to its original use. Thats where prisoners awaiting the Dark Lords personal attention are kept. Horace responded. What about Gryffindor Tower? Its not showing on the map. Ron looked back down at the Marauders Map. Horace shook his head slowly. The Dark Lord destroyed it, after locking up as many mixed blood Gryffindors he could find. He felt that keeping Gryffindor around would have been more trouble than it was worth. There is no Gryffindor Tower. Did the Dark Lord change how we can access Ravenclaws common room? Harry asked Slughorn pointedly. The security is external, mostly, but behind the guards, the Ravenclaw knocker is still there. Only select archivists who were sorted to Ravenclaw in the past and the Dark Lord himself can get in. Horace said apologetically. We seem to be fresh out of Ravenclaws, Harry. Ron said balefully. I have some ideas about that, Ron. Ron looked at Harry questioningly. Harry smiled. Remember, we know some people who would have been Ravenclaws in our time and theres one more option if we need it. Ron let the issue go and stared back at the map. So, how do we get in? Harry gave Horace a grim look. We need to get in and penetrate the security at the holding area. It looks like the passages from the Shrieking Shack and from the Hogs Head are blocked. Harry looked down closer and noticed a path leading from Hogsmeade meandering through the grounds and ending at the Quidditch Pitch. Whats this one? Fred leaned down. I almost forgot about that one. Oliver Wood and his boys built that one. They wanted a way to get to Zonkos on short notice. It hasnt been used in years, because, well Zonkos closed down and never reopened. People tend to not want a good practical joke when the Dark Lord lives in your castle. Harry nodded. Well, it looks like were going to see what kind of sense of humor old Tom Riddle has, because thats how were going to get in. ***

Draco stared down at the overly large, leather-bound book his aide had brought him. He held an old-fashioned magnifying glass to his eye and read through the small writing contained within the ledger. Hed been searching for hours, and was beginning to think he was at a dead end. He turned the page and continued to peruse the lines of script and suddenly stopped. He leaned his head in read a passage with building excitement. Draco leapt from his seat and tore the page from the book. He threw down the magnifying glass and left his office. When he reached the hallway, he broke into a run and made for the lifts. When he arrived at Level One, he swept past the receptionist sitting in front of his fathers office and walked in unannounced. Lucius Malfoy was meeting with a couple of lower level bureaucrats, but the look on Dracos face made him wave his hand and dismiss them. Once the door was shut, Draco sat in front of his fathers desk. You have something? Lucius gave his son a droll look and prodded Draco to start. Draco took a deep breath, trying to purge the excitement in his voice. I think I know what Potter was looking for. If this person is, indeed, Potter. Lucius interjected. Father, I think we can assume that this person is Harry Potter. Draco pulled the torn scrap of parchment from his pocket. Domina thought that we should take all of the sightings together, as a collective whole. I dug into the Azkaban episode. Id originally assumed that the mass prisoner break was the intent, but I dug into the specific prisoners and looked into this man, Nicola Tesla. I remember something about him. He was a crazy wizard who wanted to bring knowledge to the muggles. He belonged to some society of other insane wizards. Lucius eyes narrowed as his son presented his case. Thats right, the Illuminati Scientia, or something like that. Anyway, Tesla was one of the prisoners that was released from Azkaban and he had a number of items he and the other members of the society created held by the Ministry in the Ancients archive. Take a look at this list. Remember, we need to assume that the imposter is, in fact, Harry Potter. Draco handed the parchment over to his father. Lucius scanned the list until his eyes fell upon one item in particular. Lucius face drew up in a tight scowl. We must inform the Dark Lord. If this Time Shifter exists, then Potter must be seeking to retrieve it. Lucius stood and noticed that his son had not followed suit. Father, what if we dont tell the Dark Lord? What if we allow Potter to use this device to defeat the Dark Lord? Dracos thoughts of power vacuums and ascendancy flashed through his brain. Dont be absurd, Draco. We have no idea what this device would do, other than change time. Maybe it will render everything weve built moot. Maybe not, father. You survived after the Dark Lords original defeat. Right now, our world is dictated by his whim, where even the slightest mistake would destroy our family. It might be worth letting Potter have his way. Draco stared at his father, who, for a brief moment, considered the idea. Finally, Lucius shook his head. I understand your point of view, Draco, and your insight is very well appreciated. Im proud that you thought that strategically. Despite the peril we live in, the Dark Lords world is the one we dwell in. We must dance with the devil we know, not the unknown. Lucius tilted his head and Draco rose to follow his father out.

*** The passage reeked of mold and wet stone. A wide array of cobwebs and dust coated its interior, as if it had not been used in the decade since the ascendancy of the Dark Lord. Harry led the way, with the survivors of the Order of the Phoenix trailing close behind. It had been decided that this would be an all out assault, with the ultimate goal of making a new world, a better world. Harry shared a guilty look with Ron as he glanced over at the upright figures of Colin Creevey and Fred Weasley. Theyd not shared what the new world looked like and the weight of essentially ending ten years of life that these men had lived sat right on their shoulders. Behind Fred, a tall woman followed along. Theyd found Leonora Sigismund attending parking meters for the London Metropolitan Police. A half-blood, she had no place in wizarding society, but she was a distinguished graduate of Hogwarts, having been a Ravenclaw to boot. Harry nodded to her and led the team through the maze of the passage. After a considerable amount of time, the passage came to an end at a dusty set of stairs. Harry silently climbed the risers and pushed on the stone door at the top of the stairs. The door opened and Harry found himself in one of the dressing rooms at the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch. The room was in complete disarray. Without competitive houses, the sport had died at the school. In this room, at least, vestiges of Hogwarts from a more pleasant time abounded. Faded Gryffindor and Ravenclaw flags hung limply from the walls, while lockers and changing tables dotted the area. It was close to midnight, and the light of a half moon shone through the window. Harry beckoned the team forward. Well follow the path up to the school proper. We can use brooms to get up to the level below the Ravenclaw common room. Remember, try not to engage anyone unless absolutely necessary. Stealth is our best friend right now. Harry led them out to the main grandstand of the stadium and pulled out his Firebolt. With a nod towards Ginny, he alit into the air, the Order close behind. *** Draco and Lucius walked steadily into the throne room, shoulder to shoulder and paused in front of the raised dais where the Dark Lord sat. With practiced ease, they knelt and waited for Voldemort to acknowledge their presence. Standing behind the throne, a grim-faced Narcissa Malfoy watched as her husband and son waited. Voldemort eyed the two men with an impassive curiosity. Rise, gentlemen. The Dark Lord eyed Draco and smiled. You have news, Draco? I trust you are not disturbing me at this hour to relay how committed to the task you are. No, my lord. Draco looked over at Lucius, who nodded. My lord, I believe that I may have discovered what this Potter is looking for. You are convinced, then, that this bogeyman we are searching for is Harry Potter? The Dark Lords voice was sickly sweet and Draco felt the bile rising in his throat. Yes, my lord, I am. Draco pulled out the faded sheet of parchment. I believe that this Potter intends to come here, my lord, because he is searching for an item that was once held in the Ancients archive. Indeed, and what might this item be? Voldemort took the proffered parchment from Draco and his eyes narrowed in concentration. Hmm, yes, this would make sense, of course. You think this Potter is looking for this Time Shifter to alter the course of events as they are? Draco nodded. The Dark Lord smiled. Excellent work, Draco. I knew with the proper motivation, you would come through.

My lord, shouldnt we enhance security and move the object somewhere safe? Potter could be here at any time. Lucius stepped forward and looked the Dark Lord in the eye. Im sure he will be, Lucius, but the item is quite safe. Voldemort waved a bony hand towards a series of shelves behind him. In the center of one of the shelves, the Time Shifter sat, prominently displayed. *** Harry led them up the side of Ravenclaw Tower and landed on a small balcony of stone jutting from the edge. He stowed his broom and walked inside the empty room. Silently, he drew his wand and covered himself in his Cloak of Invisibility. With a sure movement, he opened the door and walked up the stairs towards the entrance to the Ravenclaw Common Room. There were five guards positioned outside the door, each with a bored expression on his face. Barely whispering, Harry quickly dispatched the guards and walked up to a plain wooden door that didnt have a painting or knob associated with it. The only decoration on the door was a large, bronze knocker adorned with an etching of a falcon in flight. Harry doffed his Cloak and looked back at the room that hed come from. Soon he was joined by Fred, Ron, Ginny an d Leonora. Harry smiled at Leonora, who walked up to the door. A sad, faded voice spoke to them. What is the meaning of life? Leonora stood for a moment and then smiled. Life has no meaning, but for the search for meaning, even if it were to last the rest of ones life. The meaning of life is the search for the meaning of life. A decidedly more pleasant voice echoed back to her, seemingly delighted that a true Ravenclaw was answering the question. Oh, very well answered, its been so long since Ive had a good answer to that question. By all means, enter. The door swung open, allowing Harry and the others to enter. Fred looked back at Colin, who directed the rest of the Order to take up positions along the stairwell. The Ravenclaw common room was large and open, with high, arched ceilings and curved, smooth stone walls. In the past, a large statue of Rowena Ravenclaw, wearing her diadem, adorned the center of the room. Now, a grotesque carving in onyx of the Dark Lord dominated the spot. The graceful round walls were lined with rows of shelves and the contents of the Ancients archive. Fred let out a low whistle. Look at all of this stuff! His hand rested on a small object, a key, the size of his hand. I wonder what this is? Ron looked over at the object. Its Solons Key. Whats it open? Fred asked. Its the key to the secrets of Atlantis. Ron replied. What? Are you serious? How do you know? Fred looked at the golden key in awe. Harry snickered, Been there, done that, got the tee shirt. Fred replaced the key on the shelf. How are we going to find this thingee, anyway? I guess weve got to look around. Ron quipped.

This could take a week. Fred stared at the thousands of objects in the room and the n looked at the side passage that led up to the dormitories, which undoubtedly held more items. I think we can take a short cut. Harry said. What short cut? Ginny had been walking up and down the rows of shelves and she looked over at Harry who had a bemused look on his face. Myrtle? Are you still around, Myrtle? Harry called out to the walls for one of the other Ravenclaws he knew. There was silence before a small, squeaky voice answered back. Harry? Harry Potter? They said you were dead. That was a nasty trick to play on me. I thought Id see you hovering about. Moaning Myrtle materialized from behind one of the walls and hovered near Harry. Not quite, Myrtle. Tom Riddle is still in charge. He saw a cross look come over Myrtles face, the memories of the boy who killed her running strong. We need help, Myrtle. We can stop Tom Riddle if you can help us. He was a mean, nasty little boy. To top it off, he killed me, you know. The ghost of the long dead school girl crossed her arms. I know Myrtle, and I want to stop him once and for all. I can do that, if you help me, Myrtle. Harry smiled at the apparition, who despite her ethereal state, seemed to blush. Im looking for something, Myrtle, something that Riddle would keep here. He went on to describe the Time Shifter. Oh, Harry, that nasty boy took that with him to his throne room. It was nice and shiny and he wanted it all for himself. Harry blanched. Hed hoped that he could get in and be done with his task and have that be the end of it. Unfortunately, it looked like hed have to go through Voldemort to get at the Time Shifter. He looked out one of the large, picturesque windows that lined the tower. He saw a light shining from the highest tower capped by three turrets. His old mentor used to call that his office, now, his greatest enemy called it home. Outside, there was a series of blasts and shouts and Fred ran to the door and peered outside. Looking back in, he shouted out to Harry. It looks like theyve found us, Harry. Whatever were going to do, well have to fight our way through. It looks like Voldemort knows were here. *** Harry Potter is here. The smile on Voldemorts face was one of nervous anticipation. He stroked the Elder Wand gently, confident in its firmness and strength. He turned and looked at Draco. Gather your Death eaters, Draco. Kill as many of his companions as you can. Potter is mine. Lestrange robbed me of the pleasure of killing him, so now I get my op portunity. Draco gave a small nod to his parents and ran out the door. The Dark Lord rose from his throne and strode to the center of the room. An even dozen of his personal body guards lined the walls. Voldemort allowed himself a small chuckle and his eyes blazed as he looked at Lucius Malfoy. The time has come, Lucius. After tonight, Harry Potter will be dead by my hand and I will be the undisputed master of the world. The low cackle became an outright release of maniacal laughter that sent a jolt of electricity down Lucius neck. Voldemort had finally lost his mind. Chapter 201 Battle in Earnest

Harry walked out of the common room and found himself in a whirlwind of light and power as dozens of the Dark Lords minions congregated at the bottom of the stairs and fought the members of the Order holding the landing. Harry drew his wand and sent a curse flying downward, catching a large Death eater in the chest and sending his body flying downward into a group of his colleagues following close behind. Harry looked upward and saw that his rearguard was becoming fully involved with another group of enemies approaching from the sky bridges from the other parts of the castle. Harry was soon joined by Ron and Fred, who were taking their own assessments of the situation. We cant stay here, thats for sure. Fred let fly with another curse. Youre right. Harrys mind was whirring through the possibilities. Get everyone back into the common room. Bar the door. Fred nodded and started shouting orders. Remus and Horace withdrew into the common room, followed closely by the rest. Harry brought up the rear and slammed the door shut. The sounds of blasts on the enchanted door echoed from the outside. Harry looked around the room and his eyes came to rest on the large windows that gave the space an unobstructed view of the mountainous landscape. He held out his wand. Redacto! The window burst outward, allowing a cool wind to blow into the room. Get out your brooms, maybe we can fly up to the top of Dumbledores tower. Ron looked outward and swallowed. Um, Harry? Ron pointed out the window to some dark shapes floating around the top of their destination. There were two distinct groups hovering directly on top of the tower. Ron m umbled. It looks like Dementers, lots of them and if my eyes arent playing tricks on me, those are dragons up there. Harry sighed and looked around the landscape. The tell tale sound of wood splintering was coming from the door. Okay, lets get to the Great Hall and well try to get to the Voldemort from there. Harry did a small leap and jumped onto his Firebolt and led them out into the dark void of the night. Harry careened down the side of the tower wall. Almost immediately, the Dementers reacted to their presence. Ron looked back and saw the swirling mass of death and darkness begin a slow descent towards them. Harry! Theyve spotted us! Harry looked back at the sound of Rons voice and then noticed two distinct, hardened shapes rushing through the wall of oncoming Dementers. Harry looked down towards the approaching roof of the Great Hall and then saw how strung out his team was. Dragon strike! Harry lifted back on his broom, his actions immediately followed by Ron. Harry nodded over at Ron. We just need to buy some time. Ill take the one on the left, you the right, and stay away from the Dementers. Ron nodded and pulled his broom handled in a sharp turn to the right, while Harry leaned forward and approached the menacing dragon head on. Rons turn took him low and away from the dragon that was his target. With a flick of his wand, Ron sent a torrent of sparks to capture the dragons interest. Almost immediately, the diving creature altered its course to follow Rons lead. Ron kept up his dive and turned to narrowly avoid the line of flame that the creature sent forward. Thirty seconds, thirty seconds Ron kept murmuring the words to himself, his memory back to the battlements and skies over Xanadu where he and his brother Charlie had faced down a pair of dragons, not unlike this one. Ron had thirty seconds between fireballs and he wove between the gantries of stone pillars, increasing his lead on the pursuing monster. Ron made a mental calculation and dove down along an ivy-covered wall, just as another torrent of flame reached out to grasp him. He jerked the head of his broom back and forth and began the slow countdown to

the next flame burst. He pulled hard on his broom, soaring skyward. Up ahead, he saw the edge of the line of Dementers so he made a slight correction to avoid them. The ethereal creatures seemed to sense that Rons fate was in the hands of the pursuing dragon and left him alone. Ron could almost feel the rank breath of the dragon on the back of his neck. The countdown was past the halfway point and Ron gave a sharp pull, sending his broom into an almost vertical dive. 10, 9, 8, 7 The seconds ticked off and Ron made a slight calculation, hoping hed judged both the timing and the distance correctly. Just as he heard the dragon gaining ground and inhaling for another blast, Ron leaned to the side and slid off horizontally, only inches above the surface of the Great Lake. The dragons mass forced the huge creature to careen into the cold waters of Hogwarts lake. Ron turned back towards the Great Hall. When he looked back at the eddy where the dragon entered the lake, he didnt see anything to indicate the monster would return. With a sigh of relief he hugged the surface of the water, and wondered where Harry had gotten to. *** Harry leaned forward against his broom, his face almost touching the smooth wood. He drove forward at a dizzying speed. Charlie said once that dragons dont see like people see. Dragons see heat, so Harry raised his wand arm and send a fiery pillar directly at the approaching dragon. The creature seemed slow in mid-air and Harry used that momentary confusion to dive down, beneath its belly and then out behind it. He pulled up on his broom handle, arcing gracefully until he was running in the same direction as the dragon, except inverted. He raised his head and saw the massive bulk of the dragons body. He clasped the leash of his broom to his ankle and then let go of the broom, falling down and landing on top of the dragons body. The dragon seemed to recover quickly from its momentary disorientation and made a slow circle around, trying to reacquire the source of the blinding heat that struck its eyes. Harry clung to the scaly ridges of the dragons back. Hed seen Charlie do this, over Xanadu, but Charlie Weasley had been around dragons practically all his life and Charlie had spike inserts for his gloves and boots. Harry had neither and had to use his muscle to keep hold of the writhing, soaring body. Harry pulled himself hand over hand up the back and onto the neck. The scales were sharp and he heard parts of his robe tearing and felt sharp jolts of pain where his skin met the scales. Still, Harry kept up his progress and made his way up the neck. He looked back and saw the Dementers closing in. He had very little time now. His eyes, now accustomed to the darkness, spotted the thick lead spike imbedded in the dragons neck. Harry drew his wand and pressed it against the spike. Alohomora! The spike came out about an inch and Harry stowed his wand and grasped around the edges, pulling with all his might. The dragon seemed to notice his presence, no doubt the control spike sending spasms of pain through its body. It began to writhe and contort in an effort to release itself from the irritation. Harry fell from the neck, his only hold on the spike with his hands. His body tossed back and forth, his weight finally pulling the spike from its place on the dragons neck. Unfortunately, it tossed Harrys body out into the air, sending him falling towards the dark abyss below. The dragon, free of its controlling pain, leapt up in the air in joy and began to somersault in its new found freedom. Harry fought the force of gravity and tugged at the leash on his ankle. He managed to grasp the handle of his broom and mounted it, barely escaping a sure death on the rocks below. Flying free now, the dragon seemed to focus on the hordes of Dementers nearby. It let loose with a bellowing blast of flame that tore the Dementers in its path asunder. The freed dragon soared into the night, belching flame and heat on its way.

Harry gained his bearing and started for the dark shape that marked the Great Hall. Suddenly, in front of him, he saw hundreds of Dementers between him and the hall. He veered sharply away and saw his path blocked by even more of the grotesque creatures. Harry drew his wand again and let fly his patronus. The gorgeous stallion breached a whole in the thinnest part of the Dementer line, but Harry was no where near the Great Hall. He made the decision to make for another part of the castle as the Dementers closed in from all sides. He swerved to avoid direct contact, but the creatures were herding him, closing in ever more. Harry directed his patronus towards a large window and desperate to escape the misery-inducing monsters, he put his head forward and crashed through the window, landing amid an empty classroom. His momentum carried him off his broom, down onto the floor among the desks and chairs. He rolled with the fall, but could feel his body bearing the brunt of the fall and the landing. He landed in a heap in what was probably was the professors desk. He struggled to rise and miraculously still held onto his wand. Expecto Patronum! His stallion went forward and blasted the half dozen or so Dementers that had entered the window after him. Reparo! The shattered window glass suddenly came together, restoring the barrier that kept the Dementers outside and out of reach. Harry looked around. He was in a classroom, but one he didnt recognize. It was dusty, as if it had not been in use for quite some time. He looked around and spotted a familiar figure, seemingly asleep in a chair near the shattered desk. Professor Binns? Harry looked down at the ghost who in Harrys time had taught History of Magic. Harry didnt see the ghost stir and raised his voice. Professor Binns! The ethereal old man snorted and open an irritated eye towards Harry. What? W ho is it? Is it class time already? The longtime teacher, ghost and grump, with the reputation as the most boring professor at Hogwarts took the figure of Harry Potter in for a moment. Harry Potter? For Binns, that was about as much emotion as he could show. This is impossible. Youre dead. No, Professor, Im not dead. What is going on here? What are you doing here? Harry looked around. The classroom had obviously not been used for quite some time. The students just stopped coming. One day, there was a new headmaster and they stopped assigning students to the History class. Ive been waiting ever since. Are you here to tell me that Ill be getting more students? The ghost raised an eyebrow at Harry. Soon, Professor. Listen, is there a way to the Headmasters office without taking the main staircase? Harry looked at the ghost who seemed to smile. Youre not Harry Potter, at least, not the real Harry Potter. Youve got an aura, like youre out of a different history from this one. You can see that? Harry tried to see this aura that Binns was talking about. Of course, my boy, ghosts can see things that occur within the realm of magic. I remember about one thousand years ago Professor! Im sorry, but is there another way to the Headmasters office? Harry knew that if let Binns get into another long winded reflection, itd be years before he got an answer.

The ghost seemed a bit put off by Harrys insistence. He pointed a free floating arm towards the back of the classroom, near a door that looked like the entrance to a janitors closet. Without a word, Harry walked to the door and opened it. It looked like a janitors closet with long unused mops and brooms and a bucket. Harry looked back at Professor Binns. Behind the sink, there is a passage. Its the house-elf stairs. It wouldnt do to have the houseelves be seen. Professor Binns glided back to his chair and sat down. Harry smiled and tugged at the small sink in the back of the closet. It moved, as if on a pivot, revealing a narrow spiral staircase that seemed to go up the interior of the wall. Harry pulled his robe around his shoulders and began to walk up. *** Where is he? Ginnys voice held a worried tone and Ron knew she was echoing what the y all felt. Rons quick dispatch of his dragon had allowed him time to join the others in the Great Hall. So far, their detour had not been discovered by the Dark Lords minions, but that circumstance could change quickly. Theyd not heard, nor was seen Harry in quite a while and Ginnys anxiety shared by the rest. Im sure hell be around shortly, Ginny. Rons voice was firm, but he felt the same tenseness in his chest. The tenseness began to grow warm until it started to burn. Ron yelped in pain and tugged on a chain around his neck. Are you all right, Ron? Fred walked over to his brother, giving him a concerned look. Ron looked a flat, rectangular piece of gold affixed to the chain. Bloody thing, I completely forgot about it. Ron looked up from the metal and looked around. Right, lets get going. He started for the doors to the Entry Hall. Ginny stared at her brother in obvious confusion. Get going? Were not going anywhere without Harry. Ron looked at his sister in surprise. Oh, Harrys fine. Weve got to go and try and meet up with him in the Headmasters office. How do you know that? Fred asked and was immediately interrupted by Ginny. How do you know hes all right? Ron gave them a sheepish grin and held up the golden plate. From this. He took the chain off of his neck and handed it to Ginny. On the front of the smooth piece of metal, several words were etched into the surface. Ron, Dementers blocked me, diverted to Binns classroom, will meet you in foyer near headmasters office. Harry Ginny handed the necklace back to her brother, her eyes wide. Is that a Protean Charm? Ron nodded. Yep, just like the ones we used on the galleons for Dumbledores Army. This is a little different because it gives us more area to write on and only Aurors can use it. So, lets get going, will you. Can you send Harry a message back for me? Ginny asked. Ron smiled, his voice became soft and quiet as he nodded his head.

Tell Harry Ginny seemed to hesitate and Ron placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. She smiled. Tell Harry that if he scares me like that again, Im going to kill him. She turned her head, flipping her red hair across her shoulders and walked out the door. Ron snickered and sent the message. *** Harry came to the end of the small staircase. It seemed to stop at a wall. There were seams in the wall, so Harry pushed and the section of wall gave way. He found himself in another broom closet and he slowly opened the door and peered outside. He was in another section of hallway. It was clear so he stepped out into the corridor. He looked around. The paintings were long gone, probably removed for security or as a punishment. Despite the appearance of landmarks, Harry had a pretty good idea of where he was. Gaining his bearings, he started walking. Hed gone for a few minutes and rounded a corner. He walked right into a solid phalanx of newly arrived Inquisitors. Harry didnt hesitate, he sent a blast, driving the stunned men back in to themselves and then began running in the opposite direction. Their shouts brought more of the compatriots running. Harry weaved back and forth and exchanged spells with the growing number of guards. He took quick stock of where he was and bounded up a set of stairs nearby. He reached into his pocket and threw his last dram of blackness powder on the ground and took the steps two and at time. When he reached the spot he was looking for, he forced himself to relax and concentrate. The shouts of his pursuers were growing louder and he knew he had very little time. In a few seconds, a door appeared on the far wall and Harry ran and opened it. He dashed inside and pulled the door shut behind him. On the outside wall, the door disappeared, just before the thirty or so guards arrived, leaving no trace of where Harry went. The Room of Requirement wasnt adapted to what Harry needed. Hed sought a passage to the throne room safe from the prying eyes of his enemies. Instead, the room was more like a pub, empty and clean to be sure, but not what Harry had expected. The room should have configured itself for his purposes, unless there was someone else already in the room. You look very fit for a dead man, Potter. Harry turned around and found himse lf staring at Draco Malfoy. You still look arrogant to me. Draco sat at a table, a bottle of scotch and two glasses resting on top of it. Malfoy reached up and grasped the bottle and filled the two glasses. With an outstretched hand, Draco invited Harry to sit. Harry looked around and then returned his wand to its sheath. He straightened the folds of his tattered cloak and adjusted the shine on his Aurors shield. Harry walked up to the table and sat down. Draco snickered as Harry ignored the drink. Malfoy reached down and took a long pull on the glass, allowing Harry to go ahead and drink himself. What do you want, Draco? Harry asked as Malfoy refilled their empty glasses. Its not what I want, Potter. Its the fact that I know what you want. Draco settled back, glass in hand. Whats that? Harry asked as he tried to read the other mans face. You want the Time Shifter. Dracos directness was rewarded by a look of surprise and shock on Harrys face. From what I figure, youre Harry Potter, certainly, but not the Harry Potter I know. Harrys silence confirmed Dracos information. Harry took another drink from this glass and slowly felt his fingers drifting to his wand. Draco noticed the gesture and held his hands up. It doesnt matter to me, really. Im not here to fight

you, Potter. I just want to ask you a couple of questions. You want me dead, Draco, dont lie to me. Harrys voice was full of anger and he felt this fingertips reach the contours of his wand. To be sure, Potter, but the Dark Lord wants that pleasure for himself. No, Potter, I want to ask you some questions and your answers will determine whether you succeed or not. Draco watched as Harrys posture relaxed ever so slightly. Ask away. Draco poured another drink, ignoring Harrys empty glass. He downed it quickly and looked back at Harry. This changed world of yours, the history you remember, are me and parents alive? Harry nodded slowly. Of course, revealing that Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy were serving life sentences in Azkaban probably wouldnt be helpful at this point. Draco seemed be relieved. Am I in prison? Draco studied Harrys face, trying to gauge for any deception. Actually, no, Draco. You are a very respected and successf ul businessman with a highly respected family. Harry watched as surprise came over Dracos features. He saw no reason not to continue. There was something about this situation that seemed to be working in his favor. Your wife, Domina, is the head of the Confederation of Wizards in Xanadu and you have a son, Scorpius, whos healthy, happy and loved. Harry saw Draco flinch, in a good way, at the mention of his wifes name. Youre saying my wifes name is Domina? Harry nodded. And were happy? Very. Harry watched as a change came over Draco, as if a decision has been made. Draco Malfoy rose from his seat and walked towards a door. Before he reached it, he pointed to another door near the fireplace. That door will take you directly into the Dark Lords office off the throne room. Hes got quite a number of guards with him. Youll recognize the names: Dolohov, Jugson, Travers, Macnair, Rabastan Lestrange and Greyback. They run his personal guard. Draco stared back at Harry and sneered. Personally, I dont think you have a snowballs chance in Hades, but the item youre looking for is on a shelf right behind the throne. Ill keep the Death eaters and Inquisitors busy, you shouldnt have to worry about them. All you have to do is get past the Dark Lord and his personal guard and youre home free. Harry stared back at Draco. Why are you helping me, Draco? I thought you were a zealot for the Dark Lord. Draco smiled. Im a zealot for me and my family. Lets just say the life you described sounds a damn sight better than the one I lead now. I cant lose. Either you succeed and everything is good, my family and I have a future, or you dont and I look like a genius. Im covered either way. Without a look back, Draco went out the near door and closed it behind him. Harry let out a sigh and reached for the chain around his neck. He waved his wand over the metal plate, sending Ron a message. Meet me in RoR. I found a way in. As the message was sent, Harry poured himself another drink and downed it in a single gulp.

*** Draco found himself in an open corridor, somewhere near the main entry hall. He spotted a group of his Death eaters who were sweeping the area for the intruders. Draco beckoned the leader of the group to him. Yes sir? Mortimer Gafney walked up to Draco, trailed closely by Silas. Draco stared at his two best Death eaters and couldnt help but wonder what their lives were like in the new timeline. He shook off the speculation and stared at Mortime r. It appears that the Inquisitors have been plotting treason, very much in line with our dear departed Deputy Minister. Draco watched as Mortimers eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Of all his men, Mortimer was the shrewdest and his reaction would tell Draco where he and the rest of the Death eaters stood. That is unfortunate, sir. Mortimer said after a moment. Order? Draco nodded knowingly to Mortimer, who responded in kind. Kill them, kill them all on sight. As you wish, sir. Mortimer nodded his head towards Silas and the pair went to begin sowing chaos among the Dark Lords ranks. Draco watched them leave in silence, visions of Domina and Scorpius dancing in his head. Of course, they were visions of a different world and a different life. Draco shook his head. Leave it to Harry Potter to make Draco Malfoy, for the first time, feel hope. In the background, the sounds of spells and battle reached his ears as the Death eaters began their attack on the Inquisitors. Chapter 202 Tom Riddle and the Secret of the Elder Wand It wasnt long before the door that Harry entered through opened and the surviving members of the Order of the Phoenix filed in. Their expressions ranged from excitement to dread to resignation. Harry sighed heavily. For him and Ron, the mission was clear, make everything right, but the problem that still remained was the question hanging in the air. Was the world he came from the right world? He took the measure of the people standing in the Room of Requirement and tried to work through the last bits of doubt over which door they should go through. First, there were those that werent alive in his reality. Fred stood next to the wall, a smile on his face, despite the severity of the situation. It was as if he saw something intrinsically ironic in their situation. Harry had missed that part of having Fred around. The Fred he knew was not overtly serious, always finding the humor in the blackest of hours. He died with a smile on his face. This Fred was serious, a leader who had brought the survivors through the worst time in their history and still, he smiled. Next to Fred was Colin Creevey, the wide-eyed boy Harry knew was no where present in the man standing near the fireplace. Colin was a committed frie nd whod ignored the order to remain behind and died trying to make the world a better place. Lastly, there was Remus and that made Harry even unsure of himself. Remus shoulders were erect, his bearing so much more confident than the first time hed be en reunited with him. It was as if Remus had accepted his fate, that a world without him was far grander than a world where he survived. The thing of it was that Remus was right. Lupins eyes rested on Harry, a look on his face telling Harry that he knew exactly what Harry was thinking. Harry snickered. Hed seen that look before on the face of a precocious eleven year old boy who was far older than his years and whod inherited a certain wisdom from his dead father. Teddy was part of this equation as well.

All of the people who were alive in the other reality, but either were dead or never existed in this reality came into focus. George, Arthur, Percy, Charlie, Molly, and Hermione: theyd all survived the tumoil and tumult this world could not escape. There was also the thought about the children: Victoire, Teddy, James, Albus, Rose, Lily and Hugo. The bright flames of their existence hadnt faded. It was far worse than that, theyd never existed on this plane. Who was Harry to deny them even the chance to exist? Then there was Ginny. In any world, he would love her, he knew that. This Ginny had tough outer shell protecting a brittle core. Shed experienced so much in her short life. Love and loss, then love and loss again, what would the wear and tear of a life of fighting finally do to her? She stood there, a thoughtful expression on her face. She was so beautiful to him, her hair dancing lightly on her shoulders, her eyes still afire with a flame of independence and emotion. There were lines around her face, marks of the life shed led, yet they didnt detract from her appearance, they highlighted the absolute perfection she was to him. What would she do? What would they all do? He was proposing completely eliminating their lives of the last ten years. They would never remember this time. Ron and Harry would be the only link to this life. Some would actually cease to exist. Was it fair for Harry to make that choice for them? He cleared his throat. Listen, before we go on, I wanted to give you one last chance to change your minds. I have no assurances that well survive going through that door, but if we do and if we are successful, all of this will disappear. The lives, the circle of things as you know them will cease to be and be replaced by an entirely different reality. He struggled with words and he really didnt understand what exactly would happen. Ginny would be Ginny, just a different Ginny? He pressed on. Ron and I have tried to limit what has happened in the history that we know. Suffice to say that some people who are alive, even people in this room, arent in our world. Others that have died, in this world, are alive in ours. All I can really tell you is that the past ten years in our world have been filled with their share of peace and strife, but overall, its a good world. Voldemort is dead; he was defeated at Hogwarts eleven years ago. Thats the life Ron and I know. Harry pointed to the small door by the fireplace. That door will take us into an of fice off of the throne room. Its heavily guarded. I would guess that many of us will not survive going through that door. He pointed to another door, one hed opened and looked out after concentrating on the need. That door will take you to the Hogs Head. From there, you can return to London. If you choose that door, I wont begrudge you. The real question is, should Ron and I try to change your world? Knowing what may happen, that your lives will be different and you will lose the experiences, the dreams, the joys and the pains of this world, forever, are you ready for that? Think about it carefully. Harry looked at Ron, who nodded slightly. Ron and I will not take any action if you decide that using the Time Shifter is something you dont want us to do. Silence hovered over the room as the wheels turned in everyones head. Ginny folded her bottom lip into her mouth and then smiled. Were wasting time, Harry. Fred started laughing. Come on, Harry, lets get this over with. Like you said, were not even sure that well survive the attempt. Ill take odds on that! Dean smiled and clapped Ernie Macmillan on the back. Fred nodded. Youre on. Three to one, we dont survive; four to one the thing doesnt work but we destroy Voldemort; and ten to one that we win and the timeline changes. Dean nodded and then turned to Ron. Make sure he pays me in this other timeline, okay? Ron was a bit choked up and all he could to was nod. Harry saw his friends pain and spoke up. Youre all in agreement then? Their heads nodded as one. Take a few minutes and collect yourselves. I want to talk Remus for a second.

They broke up and the hush of quiet conversation descended on the room. Harry walked over to Remus and shook his hand. Of all the people in this timeline, Remus was fully aware of his fate in the other. Its all right, Harry. Youve given me the gift of a lifetime. I have a son! Remus placed a fatherly hand on Harrys shoulder. Youve turned out to be a fine ma n, Harry, everything James, Lily and Sirius would have wanted and more. Ive never believed in fate, and now youve proved me right. I get to choose my death for something greater, and that is the mark of power. Remus laughed out loud. Youve made me the Master of Death, you could say. His words made Harry laugh, so reminiscent of the same words spoken just before another final confrontation with Voldemort. Sometimes, things simply stayed the same. He looked over and found Ron talking to Fred. He gave Remus a hug and began to search out Ginny. Ron felt a rush of emotions course through his body. His fingers idly toyed with the fraying bit of ribbon in his hair, the last tangible reminder of his daughter. He knew the course he wanted to follow, he wanted to be with his family, yet the presence of Fred here, also made it hard for him. Fred walked up and smiled. Whats wrong, Ronnikins? Fred laughed and Ron joined him. I havent been called that in a long time, Fred. Saying Freds name caused Ron to feel the crushing sadness of his loss all over again. Fred stared at his brother. Its okay, Ron. Really. I know Im not in your world, or you wouldnt be so pouty. Ron nodded silently and Fred continued. Is George? Ron nodded. Bill? Charlie? Percy? Again Ron nodded his head. Mum and Dad? Ron nodded. Then were doing a good thing. What about you? Did you and Hermione ever? Shes my wife. We have two kids. Ron said. Then this is a good thing, Ron. Dont grieve for me. Im sure I chose the death I wanted and Im choosing this one. You should know, better than anyone, except George, that Id give anything for my family, and thats what Im going to do. I just miss you so much, Fred. Ron broke and grasped his brother tightly, tears streaming down his face. I missed you, too. Thats been a gift. Weve had a second chance to say goodbye. How many people could say that? Harry walked past the brothers and stepped to where Ginny stood. She smiled and for a moment, her guard fell, showing a softer, more vulnerable side. Harry placed his hand on the side of her shoulder. Are you sure that youre fine with this? She nodded, but he could see a question on her face. With a sigh, she smiled. What happe ned to Seamus in your world? Is he alive? Is he happy? Harry couldnt help himself, a small chuckle escaped his mouth as visions of Seamus wild gyrating dance came to mind. Hes alive and hes happy. He and Padma have been an item for quite some time. He works for Gringotts with Adelina Barettos husband and Bill.

A cross look came over her face and she frowned. Padma? Shes completely wrong for him. Um, Ginny, Im still here. She blushed and then they broke into a bout of giggles. Sorry, Harry. I guess youre not used to me thinking like that. Uh, no. Harry smiled. Are we, you and I, happy, Harry? She stared at him seriously, her eyes melting into the fiery viridian cauldron of his own. Yes, Ginny, very. Life is perfect, I cant describe it any other way. Good, because that really is the life I wanted. She reached up and they kissed as if they would never kiss again. Their bodies melded together, the embrace desperate and loving, soft and urgent. He held her to him, trying to will his confidence in the future, his certainty of a better life together in one single gesture. After a moment, they parted and she smiled and leaned into his ear. Ive always loved you, Harry Potter. I always will. There was nothing more to say. *** Harry stood in front of the door and looked back. They had their wands drawn, at the ready. All right, lets go. Harry opened the door and walked through. *** Dolohov bowed low in front of the Dark Lord, awaiting acknowledgement. The aging former Death eater was now a member of Voldemorts personal guard and knew the whims of his master, so remained silent. After a moment, Voldemort bid him to rise and give his report. Master, there is heavy fighting in and among the school grounds. There is no pattern to the attack, no flow that would indicate the rebels are approaching. Dolohov knew to give only the pertinent facts, he was far to experienced to offer opinions. Perhaps this Potter is as arrogant as his namesake. He has bitten off more than he could chew. Voldemort mused to himself. A bolt of white light shot across the room and in that instant Antonin Dolohov disintegrated in a fiery explosion. Oh, I knew wed get here eventually, Tom. Harry and the Order filed out of Voldemorts office and spread around to engage the thirty or so guards around the perimeter of the room. The throne room was a large rectangular space with high ceilings and the office door directly in the center of one of the walls. To Harrys right, the entrance loomed, two large bronze doors that were bolted shut, to the left stood the dais that held the throne. Fred led Ernie, Neville, Slughorn and Dennis to the right, attacking the guards led by Jugson, Travers and Macnair. Ron led Ginny, Dean, Remus and Colin towards the back of the dais and took up the fight with the dozen guards there and Narcissa, Lucius, Rabastan and Greyback. Harry walked slowly to the center of the room and turned to face a pensive Voldemort.

The Boy Who Lived, eh, Potter? Voldemorts voice dripped with sarcasm as the two seemingly ignored the desperate battle around them. Im not a boy any longer, Tom. Still trying to understand why youre not the greatest wizard that ever lived? Harry stood with his arms by his side, his wand drawn in anticipation of the fight. Around him, the Orders attack had caught the guards unawares, but Voldemorts minions had numbers and the tide was changing. Fred sent a curse flying at Jugson who easily dodged the spell, but its momentum carried it into one of the guards, sending his broken body reeling into a wall. Dennis locked up with Travers, closing the gap rapidly and reaching with a muscled forearm and squeezing the ex-Death eaters neck and raising his body off the ground. Dennis wand was in his free hand and he dealt out spells to the approaching guards. Interminably, an audible snap echoed through the room and Dennis threw Travers broken body to the side. Macnair tossed a gilded dirk across the room which landed in Dennis side, eliciting a roar of pain. Before Macnair could press his advantage, a quick blasting charm from Slughorn sent the executioner spinning into a far wall. Neville raced up to Dennis side, holding the injured man up and the two kept up the fig ht as Ernie Macmillan took a curse to the side of his face, his body dropping where he stood, dead. At the front of the room, the battle was just as intense and just as costly. Dean and Lucius began trading curses at a furious pace and for a while, Dean gave as good as received, but fighting with Lucius meant fighting with his wife Narcissa, and the Blacks were powerful witches. Narcissa ducked under a quick curse from Ginny and ran to her husbands side. Lucius sent a curse at Dean, which Dean was able to barely parry, but in doing so, he lowered his guard, leaving Narcissa just enough room to let fly a curse that impacted on Deans chest. He fell back against Voldemorts throne and lie still, his one eye closed tightly and his dark skin starting to gr ow pale. Before Narcissa could share a look of triumph with her husband, she was struck by a spell from Ginny that seemed to drain all the water from her body. Her skin drew tight on her bones and she screamed in horror as the life drained from her. Lucius stood aghast and in a rage turned his wand towards Ginny, but Ron was there, having dispatched a pair of guards, he conjured up a flight of arrows which flew unerringly towards the sitting Minister of Magic, impaling him like barbs on a porcupine and nailing his body to a far wall. Lucius Malfoys term ended right there. Colin began to lock horns with Rabastan Lestrange, the sole surviving member of the Lestrange family. Not as physically imposing as his brother Dennis, Colin relied on guile and experience to fight back the ferocious charge of the insane wizard. The two men drew to within a few pace of each other, trading spells and warding off others in a furious flash of light and sound. They drew close together and their wands locked in a fury of anger and hate. Rabastan was bigger than Colin and he pushed down on the smaller man, forcing Colin to his knees. A deadly sneer crossed Rabastans face and he pushed down steadily on the wavering Colin. Suddenly, a look of surprise struck Rabastan, which was soon followed by shock and fear. He took a few steps back and gave Colin an almost admiring smile. Imbedded in his chest was the hilt of a knife, which Colin had held concealed on his wrist and then jabbed into Rabastans sternum. Rabastan fell to the floor in a heap, dead. It was inevitable, given their history. Remus and Fenrir Greyback were drawn together and the battle was nasty and desperate. Remus held nothing back, literally throwing every part of his essence at the snarling, wolfish man in front of him. Greyback lunged forward and drove his teeth into Remus shoulder, propelling the two men against a far wall. Remus let out a shriek of pain and blindly jabbed the point of his wand out, driving it into one of Greybacks eyes. The werewolf screamed in pain and gripped at Remus wand hand. Let me go, you whelp! You belong to me, just like your father. Greyback clawed at the flesh on Remus arm, saliva pouring from his mouth, joining the flow of blood pouring from his eye.

Remus, ignoring the pain of his injuries could not ignore Greybacks words. Im done with you, Fenrir. Go back to hell! Redacto! The spell bounded from the wand imbedded in Greybacks skull. His head exploded, taking whatever pitiful life he had left with him. Remus sank to his knees and looked around. The battle was not going well. His eyes were drawn to the two men in the center of the room. *** Voldemort walked down from the raised floor and the two men began to circle each other, measuring the distance between them. The Dark Lord held the Elder Wand in front of him, pointing at Harry. You cant win, Potter. I hold the Elder Wand; I am superior, in any time. Voldemorts crimson orbs blazed in a fiery haze and he smiled madly as he closed the distance between the two men. Oh I dont know, Tom. No matter how many people wield that wand, it always seems to change hands. Harry held his own wand up, the scene reminding him of his last confrontation with Voldemort. Unfortunately, this would not be settled by a rebounding curse. Voldemorts mouth twisted in a sneer. Dont call me by that muggle name, Potter. Youll pay for that. With a flick of his wrist, he let fly a blasting curse. Harry brought up his shield charm. Under normal circumstances, he should have been able to block it, but the Elder Wand was a powerful talisman. The blast impacted on Harrys spell, destroying the shield, the residuals impacting on Harrys chest, driving him into the stone floor as shards of rock and mortar rained down on Harry. Harry rolled and flipped up onto his feet. He let loose a charm that sent a ball of red light towards Voldemort. The spell impacted on the Dark Lords shield and was easily deflected. Voldemort waved his arms around his shoulders as if flicking off bits of dust. You cant beat me, Potter. Give up and I shall give you a merciful death. Voldemort smiled, displaying a row of rotted, crooked teeth. Harry let fly another curse. After ten years, you really need to come up with better banter, Tom. This all seems dated. Harrys curse impacted on the high arch above Voldemorts head, raining a shower of debris right down on his head. The Dark Lord was surprised by the attack, and he fell under the weight of the stone detritus. A flash of light came from the pile of rubble and Voldemort stood, enraged at the temerity of Harry. Hate filled Voldemorts eyes. Avada Kedavara! The ancient terrible curse flew out and Harry dove to the side and put out another shield. The curse burst through, but diverted just enough for Harry to avoid the brunt of its power, but residual amounts struck Harrys shoulder, which deadened, losing all feeling. Another blast struck the ground beneath Harry, ramming him into a wall. Harry felt bones breaking and the wind fly from his chest. Voldemort smiled in delight. Expelliarmus! Harrys wand flew from his hand and landed on the far side of the room. The Dark Lord walked back to his throne and stood in front of it. Now, I am able to complete the task I was destined for, Harry Potter. You will finally die by my hand. Voldemort raised the Elder Wand and pointed at the dazed Harry.

No! As the blast flew out, Ginny jumped in front of Harry, intercepting the blast meant for him. Her body fell back on his, her eyes open, her life gone. Harry screamed in horror. His primal yell causing the fighting in the room to stop. Tears streamed from his eyes and he ignored the pain of his injuries as he held Ginnys lifeless body. Pity, Potter. I shall not miss again. Voldemort began to raise the wand and Harry gently set Ginny down and stood. Harrys eyes never left Ginnys. Ive grown tired of you Tom. Its time you were dealt with, once and for all. Harry raised his hand and conjured his shield charm. The curse from the Elder Wand impacted on the shield, but this time it held, the power of the curse dissipating. Expelliarmus! Harrys outstretched hand glowed with light and a fireball jetted across the room and snapped the Elder Wand from Voldemorts fingers. Incarcerous! Ropes conjured from the ether and wrapped themselves around the Dark Lord. With a flick of his hand, Harry caused Voldemort to hang suspended in the air. An incredulous Voldemort spurted out in contem pt. Thats not possible. The Elder Wand is superior. You cant have disarmed me! Harry turned away from Ginnys form and looked up at Voldemort, hate and sadness in his eyes. Thats why you never were as smart as you thought you were, Tom. You alw ays searched for objects and spells. You only looked at trinkets. You thought you were the most powerful wizard in the world because you knew about talismans like Horcruxes and Hallows, but those were just vessels. The reason why Dumbledore was the greatest wizard that ever lived was because he studied the magic behind the objects. He understood that things dont make you magical. Magic makes you magical. The essence of magic is our humanity; our love, our hate, our fears and our hopes. Magic is literal, Tom. The Elder Wand was superior to all wands. I defeated you and it because I didnt use a wand. Voldemort clamped his mouth shut. It simply wasnt possible for him to be defeated. He began to think of ways to escape. Hed show Potter. Harry looked over at Ginny and then back up at Voldemort. Goodbye, Tom. Harry whispered an ancient curse, one taught to him by Andromeda Tonks. A large blue ball of luminescent light emitted from this fingertips and struck Tom Riddle, Junior in the chest. The light had the properties of a liquid, it flowed across Voldemorts chest and began to seep into his skin, like an acid. Voldemort began to scream, one of side walls shattered into oblivion by his pain. The pores of his skin began to glow with a blue light and his body disintegrated in the air, slowly corroding until there was nothing left of Tom Riddle, but a pile of ashes. Harry looked around the room at the surviving members of Voldemorts retinue. Jugson motioned to the rest of the guards who dropped their wands and fled from the room. Harry dropped to the floor and cradled Ginny in his arms, the pain from his injuries starting to make itself known. He gripped her tightly and cried into her chest, his nostrils taking in her lilac scent. Harry. Rons voice reached him. Harry looked up. Rons leg was bleeding from countless wounds and there was a deep cut on his friends forehead. In his hand, Ron held the Time Shifter. Harry looked around the room. Slughorn supported Remus on his shoulder, while Colin knelt next to Dennis lifeless body. Fred and Neville stood together, Fred shedding tears for his sister.

Ron knelt beside his friend. Lets go home, Harry. Lets make things right. Harry looked out across the room, into the faces of Colin and Remus and Fred. As one they nodded. Silently, Harry reached a hand into the folds of his robes and pulled out the memory and handed it to Ron. Do it Ron. Take us home. Ron looked at Fred and smiled. He held up the Time Shifter and spun the dial. The room exploded in a burst of bright orange and blue light. Harry clung to Ginny and then everything went black.