Chapter 115 Getting back to Normal The wizard world passed through the summer of 2006 in a whirl.

. James Potter celebrated his second birthday with a great deal of fanfare capped off by his erstwhile guardian, Kreacher, presenting him with an enchanted pendant in the shape of a greyhound, the familial symbol of the Blacks. The pendant dangled from a fine silver chain and would tell Kreacher if James found himself in any amount of distress. To Harry, the gift cemented the bond that had been forged between his eldest son and their family house-elf. Harrys birthday was somewhat more subdued, given that he and James were born on the same day. Not one for ostentatious celebrations, Harry didnt mind that his son was the center of attention. Ginnys birthday was an entirely different matter. August 11 fell on a Friday and the Weasley clan chose this time to kick off a celebration that lasted the entire weekend. Charlie Weasley came in from Romania to mark the occasion. The weekend became one for announcements. Bill and Fleur let everyone know that Fleur was expecting another baby. The family rejoiced in the news, celebrating the ever expanding ranks of the Weasley family. Despite the occasion, celebrating the announcement and Ginnys birthday, th e best news was still to come. As Sundays went, this Sunday in the Burrow was special. It was the beginning of August and the sun was high in the sky. Many of the partygoers had spent the morning in a particularly raucous match of Quidditch, with Teddy Lupin finally being allowed to play with the adults. The match was well-contested with the onlookers cheering for their favorites. George and Ron were teamed with Harry, Ginny and Teddy, while Lee and Sarah took sides with Bill, Charlie and Dennis Creevey. The match had an ebb and flow with neither side gaining any real advantage. As Molly Weasley began to lay out the food, indicating that the match was nearing its end, Teddy stole the quaffle from a charging Charlie Weasley and deftly passed it to Ginny. Ginny dodged a weak attempt at a block from Lee and pulled a tight split s maneuver that left her flying upside down towards the goal. She jerked the nose of her broom to the left followed by an immediate shift to the right, all while inverted and shot the quaffle through the goal, between Bills legs. The crowd below bellowed in approval and Ginny pumped her fist in triumph. By acclimation, that signaled the end of the match and the start of dinner. Teddy roared up to Ginny, an awed smile on his face. Wow, Aunt Ginny! That was amazing! Ginny blushed at his accolades. It wasnt anything. Lots of players perform like that. Dont let her fool you, Teddy. That move was special. Harry had flown up to them and stopped alongside his wife. He reached over and kissed her gently on the lips. I can count on my fingers the number of people in the world that can fly like your Aunt Ginny. Teddys respect for his broom teacher knew no bounds. Really? How about you, Uncle Harry? Can you fly like that? Harry chuckled. Of course I can, who do you think taught her? He laughed out loud, evading a playful swat from Ginny and flew towards the broom shack. Come on, Teddy. Im famished. Ginny led Teddy after her husband. The players were hanging up their brooms in the shack, careful to place their rides on the pegs underneath their names. Harry had bought Teddy a magnificent Firebolt for his tenth birthday and the young Lupin had a peg all to himself in the shack. Bill and Charlie were slapping each other on the back, regaling themselves in nostalgic stories from the pitch when they were at Hogwarts. Their task done, the players began to file out of the shack, running into George who was last to put his broom away. George flipped his broom over and tossed it gently in the air, allowing its tail to catch on its peg. He turned quickly, his stomach growling from hunger,
th

exacerbated by the succulent aromas that were drifting over from the table. His caught on the dusty broom hanging on the wall next to his. The light through the window seemed to fall right on this one broom. Above its peg, a simply crafted wood sign held the name Fred in the sunlight. George paused at his lost brothers place and felt the weight of his loss all at once. It had been over eight years since Fred had died, and so much had happened since then, yet for some reason, he felt the loss right now, as if it were the day of the battle. Fred had died fighting the good fight. What had George done? The periods of remorse or guilt or even regret were fewer and far between for George as the time grew farther away from the battle. Yet, like now, when the occurred, the pain was crushing. Had he led a good life? Would Fred have been proud? George honestly did nt know. He reached a hand up to the handle of Freds broom and rested his fingers on its knotted wood surface. I miss you Fred. George was surprised at the sound of his voice, as if he hadnt expected to speak out loud. The shop is doing well. Dudley, Lee and Verity have been huge helps. But, it really isnt the same without you. George dropped his head and grit his teeth against the onslaught of emotions that were battering him. Why did he survive and Fred die? Fred and he were peas in a pod, cut from the same cloth. How would he ever fill the void left by his brothers death? George jumped as he felt the warmth of a hand on his back. He turned suddenly and was met by a pair of sparkling blue eyes welled with tears. Verity Hopkins, the woman who had come into his life so suddenly stood beside him. Her long, flowing blonde hair caught the sunlight, surrounding her in a halo of warmth and light that caused his breath to catch in his chest. He gave her a halfhearted smile and reached his hand out for hers. Her touch was warm as if the fire that burned in her heart was somehow transmitting through her touch to him. Sorry. I get a little melancholy, from time to time. He tried to hide his attempt to wipe the tears away from his face with the sleeve of his robe. She caught his and wiped his tears with her own robe. She smiled defiantly, her personality burning into his mind. You have to stop thinking about whether it should have been you and not Fred, George. Her voice was firm, but her tone was gentle, comforting. What happened, happened. Its not something you can change and definitely not something you could have prevented. Fred made a choice to fight, just like you did. Its not fair to him or to you to keep blaming yourself. Youve got to let it go. Honor his memory by living on. Are you ready to do that? He took a last look at Freds broom and turned and met her gaze. He loved the way she didnt mince words and how she never backed down when she knew she was right. She had become, in many ways, his compass, his guide through the vagaries of life and he was thankful for it. She saw his acceptance of her words. Today, more than any other day, he needed to turn a page in his life. She saw that he had made the leap of faith and smiled. Good. Are you ready then? Theyre waiting for us. He nodded and she turned to lead him out of the shack. He pulled on her arm, stopping her from moving. She turned an inquisitive eye back to him and he smiled and pressed his lips on hers. He kissed her passionately, all his emotion transferring in their touch. In that one, simple act, he was giving all of himself to her and she reciprocated. She enveloped him with her arms, holding him up and accepting his strength. It was, in many ways, much better than any other kiss theyd shared and she reveled in his acceptance. Their lips parted and she gasped. They giggled together and walked out of the broom shack and into the sunlit day. Family and friends were arrayed under the large white pavilion that Arthur Weasley had erected to hold their Sunday dinners. Couples and families were chattering noisily, passing trays of hot food amongst themselves. Everyone was swapping stories of adventure, drama and comedy. They were bound together by blood, friendship and a general sense of goodness. Over the

years, the Weasleys and their extended family had become the center of wizarding Britain, the rudder steering the ship of their society through the shoal waters of life. George allowed himself to laugh, and he was the whoopee cushion that kept the ship in stitches. He and Verity walked up to the end of the table. George bent down and kissed his mother on the cheek, surprising her with its tenderness. She looked at him in surprise which immediately turned to understanding. She smiled widely and reached for a handkerchief stuffed in the front of her apron as the tears began to pour from her face. George stood and faced the crowd. Um, everyone! Can I have your attention please? The murmur of voices grew silent, all eyes fixated on the couple at the head of the table. Everyone knew what was coming, but a small part of the crowd was enjoying Georges discomfort. Verity and I have an announcement to make. What, you taking your company public! Deans voice drew titters until Isabellas hand made contact with the back of his head. Georges voice faltered a bit. The jokester was at a loss for words. Verity smiled at him and raised her voice up. In a matter of speaking, yes. Were to be married! The uproar was tremendous and everyone rose to offer their congratulations. Most had seen this coming, but those closest to George knew that somehow the memory of his brother was holding him back. Whatever had changed in him was for the better. Verity had found a way. She wasnt filling a void left in Georges heart by Freds death. She had transformed George in a way that made him whole again. So much the better. Harry shook Georges hand and turned to find Molly and Andromeda sitting together with his Aunt Petunia. The women were whispering to themselves, which made Harry suspicious. He went up to the circle of matriarchs and cleared his throat. What are you up to? He stood with his hands on his hips, his toe tapping. Molly gave him a sheepish grin. Well, not much, Harry. Harry took in the guilty faces on the other two women and allowed an uncomfortable silence descend over them. A trained Auror, Harry knew the silence would be enough to crack them. Molly folded after only a few seconds. Well, if you must know. We figured that well be having quite a few weddings in the near future. Weve got Dudley and Beatrice, George and Verity. Its only a matter of time before Dean and Isabella decide to tie the knot. With all of our experience together, were thinking about opening a wedding planner business on the side. Molly giggled with the other women. Harry laughed despite himself. I think thats a splendid idea, although someone had better get to Dean and tell him to get cranking. He was always a little dense when it came to reading signs. Hed better ask Isabella before she beats it out of him. Harry! Dont be so crass. Mollys admonishment was stern. She looked over at Dean and Isabella and saw a cross look come across her face. Molly turned to Harry and whispered. Ill have Arthur speak to Dean on Monday. Harry and the three women of the wedding cabal burst into hysterical laughter. *** That Sunday dinner turned into one of the most memorable parties ever, which was saying quite a bit given the Weasleys reputation as party givers. The bonds of family and friendship drew tighter as the close knit group found themselves fusing together into an unstoppable force for good.

The next day, Harry took some time off of work and went to the Tonks residence to pick up Teddy. Needless to say, Teddy was curious as to why his godfather would take a day off of work for him. Harry ignored Teddys entreaties and simply took hold of the boys h and and side-along apparated the pair to Diagon Alley. The two walked along the Alley, taking in the sights and sounds of the retail area. After a while, they stopped and Harry leaned down and looked his godson in the eye. Were here. Teddy looked around and saw they were outside a narrow, shabby store front. The display window had a simple, battered purple pillow with a wand sitting on its top. They were at Ollivanders Wand Shop. The boys jaw dropped in surprise. Harry smiled. Well, youre going to Hogwarts next year, and you cant go without a proper wand. Ive asked Mr. Ollivander to make a special one for you. Harry grasped Teddys hand and led him into the store. The walls were lined with thousands of boxes, all containing wands of various makes and types. Behind the counter, an eerie, mooneyed man rubbed his hands together as the pair made its way inside. Ah, Harry Potter, Holly and Phoenix Feather, eleven inches, nice and supple! Mr. Ollivander had an uncanny knack for remem bering every wand he sold and Harrys wand was no exception. Ollivander looked at Teddy and smiled. Holly is a very special wood, you know, it indicates directed balance and vigor to fight if the cause is just. The old man chuckled and looked back to Harry. The wand I requested. I understand its ready? Ollivander grinned and walked over to a section of wall. He counted off a number of boxes until he came upon a simple, wooden case, which he pulled from its niche. He carefully laid it on the counter and opened it. Harry held up a hand before Ollivander could speak. He turned and faced Teddy. When your Uncle Arthur and I were with Poseidon, he handed me an envelope that held a gift for you. Inside the envelope was a note from your father to me. I dont know when he wrote it and I dont know how Poseidon came into possession of it, but it had to be when he knew about you. Harry pulled out a folded piece of paper and handed it over to Teddy. Teddy opened the letter carefully and glanced at the scratchy scrawl. Harry, If you are reading this, Ive passed on. I know Ive asked you to be my childs godfather and Im thankful that you have accepted. I know that Sirius wasnt the most attentive of godfathers. Dont blame him, he was who he was and he was special in his own way. For my part, I know that you will provide my child with the guidance he needs to become a man in this world. Hopefully, my beloved Tonks is there with you and helping you with your task. Know that there is nothing more important to me than the woman I love and the child she carries. If Im dead, please know that if I am dead, I died happy in the knowledge that I helped create a better world for my child. There is something in this envelope that will help you with our child. Tonks went to great lengths to collect it. Please make sure that it is put to good use. Thanks again Harry. Remus Teddy looked up from the letter, his eyes wide in wonder. What was in the envelope? Harry simply smiled and turned back to Mr. Ollivander.

The old man turned the wand case around for Teddy to see. The wand inside was made of a lighter wood, the grain light and airy. Ollivander smiled at Teddy and proclaimed the wand to the new owner. Teddy Lupin, eleven inches, strong and agile, poplar and werewolf hair. The words rolled off his tongue and right into Teddys soul. He reached tentatively for the wand and when it touched his fingers, he felt a connection to it immediately. He grasped it tightly and he felt a warmth cascade through his arm to his body. His hair turned a shocking shade of blackish brown, with streaks of silver. He smiled and looked up at Harry. Thats right. The envelope contained a lock of your fathers hair, when hed been transformed into a werewolf. Your mothers wand was made of poplar, which indicates the ability to endure and conquer. It was a wood used in shields. That wand was made to give you the best parts of your mother and father. It was a fusion of what made them unique and what t hey gave to you. Teddy smiled and waved the wand around. After a few minutes, Ollivander held out the case and watched as Teddy hesitantly replaced it. Harry looked at the wand maker as he handed the case to Teddy. Thank you, Mr. Ollivander. Excellent work, as always. Harry paid the old man out of his leather coin pouch. No trouble at all, Harry. That one was a pleasure to make. Its been a long time since Ive created a wand built on such love. Cherish that one, young man. The old wand make r bowed and retreated to the back of the store. Harry took Teddy by the hand and walked out into the Alley. The boy kept a firm grip on the prize in his hand. He hesitated and looked up at Harry. Thanks, Uncle Harry. This means everything. Harry smiled. It was my pleasure, Teddy. Now, I feel like an ice cream, how about you? Teddy nodded enthusiastically and the pair walked hand and hand towards the shop in the center of the Alley. Chapter 116 New Beginnings The master bedroom had a distinct baroque flavor. It was large, with high ceilings and mahogany encased walls. Each corner was highlighted by intricately detailed carvings and statuary. On one side of the room, tall, stained-glass windows cast a dark pall on the room, which was lit by enormous crystal and gold chandeliers adorned with candles which flickered as if shuddering in the presence of the master and mistress of the suite. The center of the room was dominated by a large, four-poster bed made of dark, cherry wood and raised noticeably from the teak floors. In the center of the bed, a rather beautiful woman was in the throes of childbirth. Her hair was long and flowing, platinum in color and arrayed perfectly around her without a strand out of place. She refused to perspire, because she refused to grunt and scream like a common muggle in the performance of her duty. Her labors, as she saw them, were her duty to the blood, to her family and to the wizarding world in general. She refused to perspire, willing herself to pass through the pains bring her child into the world in as dignified a manner as possible. She would not allow a mudblood midwife to attend to her as she was pure blood, so a frail, familiar woman stood the side, apprehensive as to what the woman would allow her to assist with. The woman focused on her hatred, the news shed just received contributing in no small way to the onset of her labor. Her mother-in-law stood to her side, useless as shed always been, but allowed to be in the room during this vulnerable time because she was of pure blood. When the

time came, the mother in waiting would be dealt with, wiping out the last person whod seen any vestige of weakness in her being. Shed planned for what she had to do for years. Shed sought out the man she would marry, not for love, but for strategic gain. He was pure blooded, that was the first criteria, but he was vulnerable, having suffered and lost more than could be possibly imagined to the whims of the half breeds and tainted. Her vision grew hazy as she forced herself to push her offspring into the world. Her mind wandered from one vision of hate to the next. Her sister was marrying into a muggle family, tainting her proud bloodlines with their filth. Even more so, the powers that ruled her world were making serious sounds about offering the impure rights and privileges that were rightfully the purview of those with true blood. A small scream escaped her lips and she castigated herself for that one small display of weakness. Youre almost there. Her mother-in-laws voice was unwelcome. She ignored her words and concentrated on the final push. Soon, it was done and her attendant began the ritual of cleaning the child for viewing. You have a son. A small trace of pride came over the old womans voice as she held up her grandchild for the woman to see. There was no affection in the mothers eyes. Shed done her duty, now shed produced a pure blood heir and she could concentrate on stopping the tide of filth that was threatening to take over Britain. She took a quick look at the mewling newborn swaddled in fine silks and then lay back in the bed. Leave me. Let his father rejoice in the birth. That is all he as been good for anyway. Her words were cold, demeaning. She thought she saw a flash of fire in her mother-in-laws eyes which were quickly downcast towards the child in her arms. Good, thought the woman. Maybe she has a spine, after all. Shed married into a family of failures, whose actions had helped bring about the untenable situation they were in today. It was up to her to set the world straight. She would weed out these muggles and half-breeds who pervaded the magical world. Her mind set forth to thinking about her next move and she dismissed the old woman, who walked out the doors, carrying her son. The woman closed her eyes. This moment of birth was as close as shed ever want to come to the boy. Hed have to learn quickly that he should not crave nor want his mothers affection but instead start preparing himself for the struggle ahead. Shed get him ready, despite the weakness of his father. *** The woman carried the child out into the waiting room beyond the master suite and found a tall man pacing the carpet. When he saw her carrying the bundle towards him, the anxiety in his eyes dissipated. He strode up to his mother who offered the baby to him. He awkwardly cradled the small child in his arms and smiled down at his son. His mother noticed the worry lines in her sons face. His eyes were haughty and distant, but for this one, brief moment, he connected with his son and the weight of his life released from his shoulders. He knew the pain that his wife would bring to the world and to their family, yet, as his mother knew too well, it was inevitable that he would suffer. Despite her coldness, despite her ambition, the greatest problem for the man was that he loved his wife with every part of his fiber and by extension, he loved his son. No, the old woman thought, her son was destined for pain and suffering and there wasnt a thing she could do to stop it. *** Ron, can I see you for a minute? Harrys voice carried to his friend who was whiling away the remainder of the day perusing the weeks after action reports. Ron looked over and saw Lachla n McCrory, his team leader, already walking into Harrys office. With a shrug, Ron stood and nodded. Dropping the parchment hed been working on into his inbox, Ron Weasley adjusted his robes and strode over towards Harrys door. Rons shoulders were thrown back, his affectation

for slouching long gone. His chest was broad and his arms thick from the time hed taken in working out with Dennis and his team. His hairs carrot-hued tint had darkened to a deep red and he preferred to wear it long and usually kept it in a ponytail. His gait was confident and purposeful and he still wore a devil-may-care smile which curled on the edges of his lips. His face was etched with hard experience yet softened by the love of his beautiful wife and precious daughter. Ron Weasley had grown up, and now he was an Auror, making a difference, like hed always imagined. He strode into his best friends office and spotted Lachlan already sprawled in a chair in the far corner. Ron gave a nod over to the elderly Scotsman who returned the gesture and then sat in a vacant chair opposite Harrys desk. What gives, Harry? If Ron was nervous by the summons, he didnt show it. His friend rarely dressed down any individual Auror, but left those duties to the four team leaders responsible for their development. Ron crossed his legs and interlocked his fingers behind his head. Lachlan and I believe its high time for you to start carrying your weight around here. Harry delivered the line without any real seriousness, telling Ron that this was one of his friends extremely poor attempts at humor. Seeing that Ron wasnt biting, Harry continued. Well, we think its time you took on a trainee. That caught Rons attention. He sat up and leaned his elbows on his knees. Com e on, Harry. Im not cut out for training someone. I havent the patience, besides, youve got people much more suited for being tutors than me. Harry chuckled. Ron had expended a lot of energy to not be saddled with the responsibility of training a new Auror. Ron was a superior Auror. He was great in a fight and knew his way around an investigation and a hunt. If Ron was to have a weakness, it was his inability to see his own potential. A painful lack of self-esteem always managed to wheedle its way into his decision process, but this time, Harry and Lachlan decided to ignore Rons protests and see if they could get more out of him. Stuff it, Ron! Its high time you took on a trainee. Sarah, Cavendish, even Manchester, have taken on trainees recently. Youre the only one who hasnt, and frankly, you havent a good reason not to. Harrys voice was becoming a little more serious, his words boring into Rons head. Youre taking one on and you will train that person to pass their M.A.G.E.s wit h flying colors. Lachlan chortled. Stop fighting us, Ron. Youve got the skills to do this. After all, youre tutor was a great teacher. The older man stroked the silver whiskers on his long beard. Ron laughed at his former tutor. I dont know about this, Harry, but Ill give it a go. Excellent. Silas! Harry shouted out his door to the open floor of cubicles beyond. A tall Auror poked his head in the threshold. You called, Harry? Silas Hornsby had grown during the past year. Paired u p with Sarah Jordan, he was in the middle of his Auror training. Yes, Silas. By the way, congratulations on the Outstanding rating on your first year M.A.G.E. I didnt expect anything else from you. The younger Auror blushed in thanks. Anyway, go ahead and send him in. Sure thing, Harry. Silas gave the others in the room a nod and smiled. In a flash, he was gone. Moments later, a small wrap at the door jamb revealed a slight figure of a young man. He was nervous, his eyes moving to each of the three vaunted Aurors in the room one at a time. He was

tongue-tied, and small beads of perspiration began to form on his forehead. Harry covered his mouth briefly to hide his smile. Rapidly composing himself, he gestured for the man to enter. Mortimer, come on in. Mortimer Gafney, recent Hogwarts graduate and almost victim of Mephisto walked into Harrys office tentatively. Unsure of what to do, he decided to stand placed his hands behind his back, waiting for Harry to continue. Now that the Frustro trial is completed, we can focus on your training. The Wizengamot had spent the past couple of months compiling testimony and holding the trial of Zachary Frustro. Mortimer had been a key participant during his abduction at Hogwarts and had been an eyewitness to the murder of Jennifer Crabtree. Thinking about the death of the Divination teacher caused Harry to pause, his mind wandering to thoughts of his friend Neville, whod been involved with the woman. The loss had hurt Harrys friend deeply and Harry wondered if time had helped Neville at all. Forcing himself to come back to the present, Harry locked his emerald eyes on the youth in front of him. Weve decided to appoint you as Rons trainee. Mortimer glanced over at the red-headed man to his right, who seemed be scowling at the prospect of being saddled with him. Harry continued. Mr. Weasley is delighted to have the opportunity to impart his wisdom to you. Listen well. You may have a brilliant mind, but theres more to being an Auror than analysis. Youll have to hone your instincts; youll have to react to crises. In the end, we have to see how youll function as a part of our team. Pay close heed to what Ron has t o say, and youll do all right. Any questions? Mortimer could think of none at the moment. Harry smiled at him. Youll do just fine, Mortimer. Why dont you go wait out by Rons desk? The young man swallowed and nodded. He turned on his heel and walked out towards the row of desks where Ron sat. Harry turned to his friend. Well? Ron stood with a contemplative stare on his face. I guess I can give it a try. Harry smiled at his friend. Youll be fine, Ron. Harry gave a quick glance at Lachlan. Just train him to be someone youd want in your spear. He wouldnt be here if he didnt have the right stuff. Ron nodded and started for the door. Harrys voice stopped him just before he exited. Oh and Ron? Please limit the visits to Georges shop. Make sure he learns the proper spells before you hand him the Wheezes shortcuts. Ron gave his friend a distinct hurt expression, as if hed been wronged. Harry continued. And, please, dont allow George and Lee to use the lad as a guinea pig. It took us two weeks to get Silas skin back to its original color. Ron had a guilty look on his face as he nodded. He went out the door to search out his new trainee. Well, Ron thought to himself, that takes all the fun out of this, doesnt it? Ron shook his head and strode to meet with his trainee.

*** Chapter 117 A New World Courtroom Number Ten was packed to the rim with the representatives of wizarding Britain creating a bustle of noise and energy as Hermione Weasley entered the lower tier. The Wizengamot had two primary functions within the Ministry of Magic. First, as the High Court for the Ministry, it would sit in judgment on crimes committed contrary to wizard law. Secondly, it was the main parliamentary arm overseeing the creation of laws for the magical segment of society. By law, its members were drawn from the population at large, based on a complex dynamic which allocated seats based on blood purity. House-elves and goblins were not

represented in the wizards gathering. When used for trials, the center of Courtroom Number Ten had a cage and chair that was reserved for the accused. When configured for parliamentary session, the center floor was usually covered in reams of paper based on the agenda and seats reserved for the heads of the various departments within the Ministry. When Hermione entered the center of the room, she saw Isabella Ramirez and Dean Thomas sitting together in the section reserved for the Ministers administrative team, with Percy Weasley. Arthur Weasley, as the Minister, was perched high atop the presiding officers lectern, level with the first tier of representatives. Hermione felt her heart in her throat as she made her way to where John Dawlish, the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and her boss was sitting. She felt a certain amount of calm, as she spotted Harry seated next to Dawlish, the two with their heads together, whispering together. When Harry caught sight of his friend, he cleared a spot on the table in front of him, allowing her a place to deposit the four thick volumes she was carrying. She nodded her thanks and took the seat near Harry. He glanced up at the crowd. The last time I was here, I thought they were going to expel me from Hogwarts. He chuckled and looked over at Hermiones tense face. You nervous about this? She nodded her head. My stomach has been turning ever since Rons dad told me that I was on todays agenda. I wouldnt worry. This is something youve been passionate about for years. Look how easy it was to get the House-elf Emancipation Bill through. Harry placed a reassuring hand on her back. She nodded, Right, but that time most everyone was under the influence of the vampire queen. This is a trifle different. Harry laughed, True, but things are so much different since then. Youll be fine. Hermione accepted the encouragement for what it was. She was about to offer a retort when Arthur Weasley gaveled the meeting to order. Wizards and witches of the Wizengamot, welcome to the Ministers opening of the Legislative Cycle! Arthur paused as the assembled magic people applauded. When the furor subsided, he continued. We enter the ninth month of our administration, and Im delighted to report that we have managed to reign in our costs. Thanks to the diligent efforts of our Exchequer, Dean Thomas and our able Controller of Currency, Isabella Ramirez, the Ministry of Magic is now running a surplus for the first time in four hundred years! The applause was thunderous and Arthur basked in the general appreciation of his efforts to set the machine right. Under the able leadership of John Dawlish, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement has cut incidents of violation of the International Code of Secrecy in half and under the guidance of Harry Potter, the Office of Aurors is at full strength, having turned back several attempts to undermine the Ministry and our Society at every turn. The crowd burst into applause once more. Here and there, Hermione could see the faces of several members who seemed to be giving lip service to Art hurs pronouncements. She could see contempt and disdain visibly taking over the visages of several of the more prominent members of the body. Despite their misgivings, the majority seemed to genuinely revel in the report that Arthur was delivering. She turned her attention once more to her father-in-law. The state of our society is good, ladies and gentlemen, but now, as we turn our attention to the future, let us discuss what we must do to allow our world to progress into the future. We stand on a precipice, where we can allow distrust and discord that hallmarked our past dominate us, or we can cast a visionary eye to the future and finally come together as a stronger society. What say you? Arthur cast the challenge out and was met by hearty cries of hear, hear and future, we

want the future. He allowed the chants to grow, and then continued. I did not take this post to leave our world stagnant. We must move forward. To that end, I have asked our Director of Legislative Affairs to offer a comprehensive review of our laws. This review has resulted in recommendations for change which I wholeheartedly endorse. We must have a government and a society for all magical beings. Pure bloods and muggles, goblins and house-elves and everyone in between must be equal under the law in order for us to survive. The room was quiet as the implications of the radical scope of Arthurs agenda became plain. With no further ado, I will now ask Hermione Granger Weasley to address you all. Hermione stood to a round of healthy applause. She acknowledged the welcome and stood in the center of the room. Our law reflects the mindset of the past. It sets aside special privileges for the so-called pure-bloods in our ranks and demeans others who are treated as second-class citizens. That must change. In the books being distributed, you will find comprehensive recommendations on a line by line basis that will strike all blood-centric bias from our law. We must realize that we are one people, bound by the gift of magic and we cannot continue to artificially raise people up from others, just on the basis of birth. A murmur rang through the chamber. A single voice was heard above the din. What makes you so sure that you are qualified to make these recomme ndations? Are you not a mudblood yourself? The voice was clear, yet contemptuous at once. Hermione fought back the urge to snap back, instead raising her gaze to find the source of the attack, whod heard a chorus of hear, hears. Certainly, our laws were written by knowing and learned wizards who understood the need to have an elite class to rule over others. The voice was feminine, beautiful in tone, yet unfathomably cold in its delivery. Hermione followed the voice to its source, a tall, strikingly beautiful woman with light blue eyes and long, platinum blonde hair. She was dressed in simple black robes. She was thin, her skin was pale, and her face was smooth, save for her sharp, aquiline nose. As she moved her hands, Hermione noticed that her fingernails were a bright, blood red. She continued, It would seem to me that if any but the purist of blood were meant to lead our nation, it would have been so from the start. Hermione would not be deterred. That is simply not the case, maam. The pure-blood voting block in this assembly constitutes forty percent of the votes but only eight percent of the magical population. That was not the case when the law was established almost a thousand years ago. If we followed your logic, you would not be allowed to sit in this hall, as witches were also excluded from serving when the laws were originally passed. Hermiones winning point caused a staccato of murmurs to penetrate the crowd. The womans face had a hint of color in her cheeks as she conceded the point. Nevertheless, pure-bloods are the ruling class, and as such, we obviously must see the benefit to surrendering our power. The woman paused and then switched her argument to her next point. Speaking of power, do we even have the authority to pass such laws? Arent we bound to the edicts of the International Convention of Wizards? It was like a close Quidditch match with two Chasers bandying about a quaffle. The International Convention of Wizards only has mandate over issues that cross international boundaries, specifically as it relates to the Magical Secrecy Act. All internal policies remain the purview of the local Ministries, as defined in the International Wizarding Governing Agreement of 1264. We have full authority on this matter, if we have the wherewithal. Hermione stood tall against her antagonist. The shapely woman smiled, which came out, almost like a sneer. Arthur stood up once more. Thank you Mrs. Weasley. Ladies and gentlemen, this will not be resolved today. All we ask is that you start your review of the amended policies and consult with your constituencies. This is not a directive. We are open to negotiation and changes. Our goal is that all members in our society have equal rights and protection under the law.

The crowd broke out into nervous chatter and the meeting was soon adjourned. Hermione plopped down in the seat next to Harry. She turned to him and whispered, Who was that woman? Harry shook his head. Ive never seen her before. You knew that this wasnt going to be easy. Stick with it, Hermione. Well get through it. I know, Harry. Sometimes it seemed a lot easier when all we had to do was fight Voldemort. Politics seems to be a lot more dangerous. Hermione sighed, and Harry didnt really have an argument to contradict her. *** The main courtyard at the center of Diagon Alley was festooned in bright bunting and colorful balloons. A large crowd had gathered for the wedding of Dudley Dursley, partner at Weasleys Wheezes, and Beatrice Haggerty, from Flourish and Blotts. The couple had chosen to hold their ceremony in Diagon Alley for a number of reasons, some heartwarming and some not. On the warm side, both had met because of their affiliation with stores located on the alley. On the negative side, Dudley was a muggle which generated all sorts of issues, mostly on Beatrices side of the family. The Haggertys were an old line pure-blood family who seemed to get less progressive the younger the generation. Her side of the wedding party was decidedly bare, only a few members of her family deigning to observe her nuptials to a muggle. Her mother and father were there, having known the Weasleys since Hogwarts, but most of her aunts and uncles, cousins and siblings had not bothered to show up. Only three members of her family, outside of her parents had shown up for the ceremony. Harry made a show of fixing Dudleys tie. The two were standing on the dais, waiting for Beatrice to make her way up the aisle. Arthur Weasley stood at the head of the podium, the traditional location of the officiator of the ceremony. Harry gave a brief glance over towards the seats where Dudleys family sat. His Aunt Petunia was busily daubing her eyes with a handkerchief while Molly Weasley held her shoulders. Harrys eyes drifted to the porcine figure slouching next to his Aunt. His Uncle Vernon had a dark, brooding look on his face. Harry had not had a chance to speak with Vernon, but could tell that his Aunts husband was mortified at how involved Dudley had become in Harrys world. Unfortunately for Vernon, Petunia was fast becoming as imbedded in the magic world as Dudley, and had laid out an ultimatum to the bitter man. Either Vernon could accept the new world, or he could enjoy his old world by himself. Apparently, Uncle Vernon had decided to deal with the new reality. Harrys eyes drifted over to Beatrices side of the wedding party and he froze. Looking past her parents he cast a hard gaze at the three people nearby. The pretty woman who had verbally sparred with Hermione during the Wizengamot meeting was standing there, a look of distaste on her face as if shed eaten something rotten. Next to her, a tall man with pale skin and straight blonde hair returned Harrys gaze. The hate in the mans eyes was very familiar to Harry. Hed had many years of experience with the spite-filled features of Draco Malfoy. Besides Draco, Narcissa Malfoy stood, looking remarkably similar to her sister Andromeda. Harrys voice caught in his throat and Dudley noticed his reaction. What is it, Harry? Dudley followed Harrys eyes over to the Malfoys. Who is that woman, Dudley? Harry nodded, indicating the tall woman next to Draco. Thats Beatrices sister, Domina. The man next to her is her husband. Drake or Draga Dudley searched for the right name. Draco. Harry finished the name.

Draco, right. You know him? Harry nodded, unable to comment. Dudley continued, They dont care much for me. I think Beas mother made her attend. They dont like muggles. Dudley almost spat out the words and Harry understood immediately. I know what you mean, Duds. Harrys explanation was interrupted by the flurry of fanfare announcing the beginning of the ceremony. Beatrice was resplendent in her dress and her train trailed well behind her. Her tall figure accentuated the piping on the bodice and her veil highlighted the light blue of her eyes. She was smiling and Dudleys nervousness disappeared immediately. She made her way down the aisle and she was joined on the dais by her matron of honor, Sarah Jordan. As one, the four turned to face Arthur Weasley to begin the ceremony. Harry stood frozen, his mind wandering at the turn of events. Throughout the entire reading, he could feel Draco Malfoys stare on the back of his head and it made him nervous. When the ceremony ended, Harry turned to face the crowd, allowing his eyes to drift back to where hed seen them sitting. Draco and Narcissa had left as soon as they were able, but Domina Malfoy was there, and the hardness and the hatred in her eyes rested fully on Harry. Her stare was as wicked and frightening as any hed ever received from Draco. Harry began to wonder if he was worrying about the right Malfoy. His thoughts were halted by the end of the wedding and spontaneous celebration that commenced. Lost in the festivities, Harry forgot about his worry about the Malfoys. *** The wedding reception was spectacular, held in the portion of Diagon Alley just outside Weasleys Wheezes. The Wedding Planning Trinity of Petunia, Andromeda and Molly had gone all out in throwing a massive bash. George and Verity had thrown in with a light show that enraptured the attendees. Harry lost himself in holding Ginny and dancing with her as much as he could, the memories of the look from Domina Malfoy long forgotten in the recesses of his mind. Neville Longbottom sat at a table on the peripheries of the party. Every so often, hed secretly pass a napkin over his eyes as he watched Dudley and Beatrice in their happy moment. Images of Jennifer danced in his head. The pain was heightened as the party progressed, the dance floor full of couples whirling around to the music. Neville loved to dance, but most of all, it was something he absolutely enjoyed doing with Jennifer. He felt his face fall as he remembered Jennifer and felt the pain of his loss. Do you want to dance? Neville looked up and was greeted by the pink face of Hannah Abbott. He took a moment to place her, as her pigtails had long been discarded, replaced by flowing brown hair to her shoulders. She was dressed in a tasteful evening gown that showed off her figure, which had matured nicely since their days at school. Neville stood, taken by surprise by her question. Oh, er, Hannah. Y-you look lovely. He felt a rush of guilt, having noticed how nicely a woman looked, so soon after Jennifer died. Im sorry, I cant dance. Im just not feeling in the mood. His face was downcast and he sat once more, almost ignoring her. Hannah felt a rush of empathy for Neville. Thats all right, Neville. Dean told me about Jennifer. She was a lovely woman. She sat next to him. I remember when my mum was killed by Death Eaters. It was horrific. I thought I would never recover, but you all, Ernie, Ginny, Harry, you all helped me get through it. Neville looked at her gratefully. She continued, Maybe, I can sit here with you and you can tell me more about her. Neville smiled and sat forward. They didnt touch. She sat and listened as he told her about how he met Jennifer Crabtree. In the air, George launched another spectacular light show that

seemed to punctuate the story he was telling. They sat through the night, two wounded souls sharing their losses with each other, beginning the slow road to repairing their souls. *** In a corner of the Alley, separated from the intermixed couples that were celebrating her sisters marriage, Domina Malfoy stared at the spot where Hermione, Ron, Harry and Ginny were dancing. Her eyes were narrowed, their pale blue irises boring a hole in Harrys head. The conspiracy that was leading to the upheaval in her world led right to the four people in the center of the circle. Voldemort had been a fool. Lucious Malfoy was an idiot. Neither had focused on the real threat. Neither had done what needed to be done to preserve the bloodlines. Voldemort was a dirty half-blood and Lucious had simply been stupid. She was patient. Her family had been around for two millennia. She would find a way that transcended the Harry Potters of the world. This wasnt about Potter or the Weasleys. Her goals were much higher, and shed never failed at achieving her goals. The purity of the true blood lines would be preserved at any cost, she would see to that. Chapter 118 Abroad with Ron Weasley As Harry settled back into his routine at the Office, the memory of the hateful stare that Domina Malfoy had given him seemed to grow distant. September was drawing to an end and the last vestiges of summer were slowly giving way to the cool evening breezes of the approaching fall. Harry sat in his office, steadfastly reviewing reports as they cycled in and out of the room. Above his head, interoffice memos circled his head in the shapes of paper airplanes, crowding the ceiling like a steady backup of arrivals at Heathrow. Harry sighed and called out his open office door. Lachlan! Harry scanned the parchment in front of him and reread the details. After a few seconds, he spied the long, stringy white beard of Lachlan McCrory passing through the threshold. You rang, oh imperious leader? Harry scowled at the senior Aurors teasing. Unable to contain himself for long, Harry chuckled and tossed the paper hed been reviewing over to his friend. Its about time I got some respect around here from the serfs. Lachlan snorted and continued reading the paper. After he finished, the white-haired Scot passed the sheet back to Harry. This seems interesting. Whats the backstory? It seems a lot of those fliers are showing up throughout the wizarding business establishments in Exeter. Harry retrieved the paper from Lachlan. On the center of the sheet was a large circle edged in dark black ink. The circle was filled in blood red and drawn in the center of the red field was a black wand. Below the figure, the words Justice for the pure were written in bright red letters. Harry reclined in his seat. Whats more, a number of shops and business owners are being vandalized and intimidated, with more of these being left about. Whos doing it? Lachlan asked. Thats the thing; no one will come forward and tell us. Everyone seems to be afraid to give the full story. That flier there, Harry pointed to the paper on his desk, was sent us anonymously. However, you dont have to be a genius to understand that some sort of blood purity agenda is behind this. Harrys mind flashed back to Hermiones encounter with Domina Malfoy in the Wizengamot.

Still Harry, we cant go off half-cocked. What if its just some local toughs? We need to be sure. Lachlans words mirrored Harrys thoughts. I agree. Harry looked at Lachlan seriously. Who do you have to poke around down there? Lachlan thought for a moment and looked out onto the main Office floor and down his row of cubicles. Rons up on the roster. Itll give him a good chance for him to take his trainee into the field. Harry nodded, but his face darkened as remembered a time when he went out on a routine mission. Lachlan picked up on Harrys mood. Dont worry, Harry. Every mission doesnt end in a battle to the death with Furies. Lachlan rose and headed for the door. Besides, its not like youre going out on the mission. Lets face it, trouble always seems to follow you. Harry chuckled and waved his friend on. Lachlan returned Harrys wave and looked to find Ron and Mortimer to send them on their way. *** The floo network deposited Ron and Mortimer in an alley behind a dry cleaner off High Street in Exeter. The two Aurors took a minute to dust off the soot on their clothes and study their surroundings to ensure their arrival had not been noticed. Dressed in jeans and nondescript sweatshirts, they offered the image of two university students wandering the industrial city. Over his shoulder, Ron carried a battered leather satchel while Mortimer carried a dusty backpack. Ron gave a nod and the pair walked out onto High Street. So, where are we going? Mortimer kept up a steady scan as they weaved thr ough the crowded sidewalk. Ron shushed him; his brow furrowed in concentration. Mortimer found himself pull short as Ron stopped abruptly and stared at a narrow opening between two red-bricked buildings. The entry was barely over three feet wide, not enough for the both of them to fit through side by side. A small street sign was posted on one of the walls adjacent to the entrance, reading Parliament Street. Mortimer glanced at Ron, curious. The taller man smiled. This is the narrowest street in t he world, according the Guinness Book of World Records, Im told. It connects High Street to Waterbeer Lane. Ron cinched up his satchel and led them into the claustrophobic confines of Parliament Street. Stay close to me, its going to be tight. They walked down the path, the high brick walled passage narrowing at points where their shoulders could touch each wall. About halfway down, Ron paused underneath a wrought iron stanchion, a dim green light suspended underneath it. He looked down at the floor and spotted a black brick in the masonry and tapped it twice with his toe. Grabbing Mortimers arm, he pulled them straight into the brick wall which seemed to fade into oblivion. Mortimer felt his chest constrict as the world went dark for a split second and then opened up into a wider version of Parliament Street. The red brick walls stretched as far as the eye could see and store fronts lined the bottom levels of the shopping alley. Ron glanced back at Mortimer, catching the eye of his trainee. Welcome to Vendira Avenue! Ron glanced back towards the rows and rows of shops that dotted the mall. Its the Diagon Alley of flea markets. You wont find a newly made item among the lot. My mum and dad used to bring us here to save a knut on things we needed when we were kids. Ron hustled Mortimer over to a side stall, out of sight of the patrons wandering the street. Now, do you remember your Disillusionment charm? The slightly built Auror -in-training nodded. Good, use it now. Lets walk about and see what we can see. Ron fumbled about in his satchel and drew out a length of fishing line. He tied the transparent thread around his wrist and affixed the other end to Mortimer. With a nod, the pair drew their

wands and whispered a quick incantation which soon caused their bodies to flicker out of view. Ron gave a tug on the fishing line, ensuring that he was able to find his trainee, even in their current state. Ron gave two more pulls and headed down the side of the main walk. Vendira Avenue was bustling with activity. Not quite the size and breadth of its bigger sister at Diagon Alley, it was, nonetheless, of decent enough scope to allow Ron and Mortimer to avoid bumping into the shoppers inadvertently. Ron kept a slow pace, his eyes taking in the surroundings. Here and there, he spotted the wand symbol painted on various stalls while the paper fliers were pasted to posts and walls here and there. Ron noticed how the various vendors were interacting with their clientele. Some were outwardly ebullient, hawking their wares with aplomb. Others seem to shy away from certain customers, their heads turned down and evasive. A palpable tension filled the air and the crowds seemed to be segregated by clique, with no discernible distinction that Ron could make out. He led Mortimer further down the Avenue, nimbly guiding him around various groups of people. In the center of the shopping district, there was a large square with an ornate granite fountain. The middle of the fountain housed the figure of a tall, impressive wizard stood with his arm outstretched, his wand pointed to the sky. Water plumed from his wand in a wide array of colors, filtering down to the catch bin below. At the foot of the pedestal where the statue stood, a small inscription detailed the identity of the figure. E. Rosier, Hero of the True Blood. Ron stood for a moment, perplexed by the sight. In his previous visits, the statue in the fountain had been a basalt dragon, representative of a town pet that had lived in Exeter almost eight hundred years previous. It had been a Hebridean Black named Daisy, who was reported to have a weakness for caramel. When did they change out the statue? Ron wondered to himself. Why are they commemorating a dead Death Eater? Evan Rosier had been killed back before Harrys parents. As a Death Eater, he was perpetrating some hideous acts on a muggle family when Mad-eye Moody caught up with him and cast him into a pit of molten lava during a battle in Scotland. Ron shivered for a moment and continued his sweep across the square. At the edge of the square, a short, rough looking man stood in front of a battered push cart. He was shouting at the top of his lungs. The cart was weighed down by a wide assortment of apothecary bottles and jugs labeled with a variety of symptoms and maladies. Step right up, ladies and gentlemen! I have a potion for what ails you! Boils, never you fear. Scared of heights, Ive got your remedy! Want to charm the lady of your dreams, Im your man! He offered a gap-toothed smile to a passer-by. You sir, Ive got the perfect draught for that bald spot! In six weeks, youll have a full head of hair! The target of his pitch sped up his stride, seemingly disgusted by the display. Ron noticed several men enter the square from the far side of the Avenue. They stood apart from the rest of the patrons, in that, they were similarly dressed. They all wore black trousers and black tee shirts. On their heads, they wore black berets with a patch prominently displayed on the front. As Ron looked closer, he saw that the patch was a red circle, with the black wand, just like the fliers. The men ranged in age from late teens to late twenties. The leader was of medium height and thin. He walked with a confident arrogance with an expression of disgust for the people around him. His followers, however, towered over him. They were six rough looking men, tall, broad shouldered and utterly intimidating. Rons eyes narrowed as recognition dawn ed on him. He knew the leader of this bunch. The brutes rounded the corner and immediately spied the man with the potions cart. The leader gave a baleful sneer and led his men over to where the pushcart stood. What are you doing back here, mudblood? The man grasped the vendor by the lapels of his torn coat, drawing the hapless potion seller close. I thought we told you that Vendira Avenue was reserved for pure-bloods only.

His henchmen wandered around the cart, knocking vials and bottles to the floor, delighting in the sound of glass shattering. The cart owner cringed a bit, but then screwed up his courage. I aint afraid of you. Im a citizen and a wizard and I can sell what I want, where I want! The man made a clumsy attempt of knocking his intimidators hands from his coat. He missed badly, but his antagonist dropped him, out of apparent fear of coming in contact with him. You should mind your manners, mongrel. Youre not a real citizen, youre just a filthy mudblood whose father betrayed his heritage by consorting with a muggle. The leader of the gang pushed the man down onto the ground and nodded to his comrades. The orgy of destruction on the cart ran apace, bottles flying. No, wait! The man stood and tried to push one of the ruffians away from the cart. Ill report you, I will. Youre breaking the law! Report me? To who? The only law that counts is the law of the pure bloods, monkey man. Whos going to believe a mudbloods word over a pure blood? Whos going to help you? The man gave a wicked smile at his hapless victim and pointed to the crowd whod gathered to watch the encounter. You think theyll help you? The Aurors will laugh in your face, because youre a no count, dirty, worthless mudblood. Thats all youll ever be. Youre stupid too, weve told you twice before that youre not welcome here. The bullies crowded around the man while their chief pulled out his wand. It looks like were going to have to teach you a lesson, a permanent one. Expelliarmus! The leaders wand flew from his hand and into the water of the fountain. Ron dropped his disillusionment charm and calmly affixed his Aurors badge to the belt of his jeans. Thats quite enough out of you, Harper. The Ministry of Magic doesnt take kindly to extortion or intimidation of any kind. Ron stood tall, hoping in the back of his mind that Mortimer had the good sense to remain concealed. The man called Harper turned surprised to see someone with an Aurors badge standing in fro nt of him. Weasley! What are you doing here? This is none of your concern. Ron recognized Harper from his days as the Slytherin Chaser. Harper was visibly shaken at being caught so red handed at play. Ron kept his voice even; his eyes never leaving the group of ruffians in front of him. For their part, the men seemed to have forgotten the vendor, their focus on the immediate threat of the single Auror in front of them. I beg to differ, Harper. The Ministry has a few questions for you. Im afraid youre going to have to come in with me. Did you start this nonsense? Ron held up one of the fliers for Harper to see. Youre over your head, carrot top. This is way bigger than me or you. Now, run along before you get hurt. Harper had been calculating in his mind and had come to the conclusion that his six men could easily take Ron. After all, wasnt this the same Ronald Weasley who threw up before Quidditch matches? Harper smiled. Take him, boys. Ron dove to the pavement and rolled in a tight ball to the side, his wand extended as he rose. He sent two of the men flying across the square, their bodies crashing with a thud against one of the far brick walls. He easily parried a weak curse sent his way and levitated a third man about twenty feet in the air over the fountain. Rons movements were fluid, graceful belying gangly image caused by his height. He pointed at another man, trying to sneak up behind him and with a tap of his wand turned the man into a banana slug. In so dispatching that man, he noticed, too late, that the last of the bullies had gotten to a blind spot and was about to hurl a curse towards Rons back. Ron was trapped, but in the split second before he was to be hit, the man was slammed sideways by a bolt, apparently from thin air. His frame rotated on its axis several times

before it landed with a thump on the hard, cobblestone street. The space where the bolt came from suddenly shimmered, revealing the form of Mortimer Gafney, wand out, aimed at Harper. His support gone, Harper took a few steps away from Ron. The Auror closed the distance, his wand aimed at Harpers nose. Typical Slytherin, always wanting to do things the hard way. Ron chuckled and bound Harpers body. Instead of fear, Ron saw hate flash in his captives eyes. Merged with the hate, Ron saw something else. He saw triumph. Harper let out a triumphant laugh. You fool. I told you this was bigger than me or the Ministry. Youve betrayed your own blood, and youll pay for it. Ron heard a murmur behind him. The crowd of Vendira Avenue was angry, not relieved at the display of law and order. Mortimer backed towards where Ron stood, the crowd starting to box them in, hurling epithets. Mudblood lovers! Traitors! Filthy mix breeds! Ron stroked the surface of his shield, his eyes narrowing, trying to assess where a potential attack may occur. Behind him, Harpers shrill voice shouted in glee. You see what youre mudblood wife is doing? Shes forcing our hands. Pure -bloods were born to rule this world. Youre filthy mudblood loving Ministry cant keep us down! Ron absently extended his arm, his hand balled in a fist. His knuckles made contact with Harpers face, knocking him out. That caused the crowd to grow more restless. Mortimer leaned over to Ron. Now what do we do? Ron looked to his trainee, proud that the young mans hand was firm around his wand and that like Ron, he was assessing his chances of escaping this predicament. Just wait. We try to keep them calm, but just wait. Ron looked towards the closest part of the mob to him. Fixing his gaze on an old man in the center, he shouted. You people move along, Auror business. This does not concern you. The old man sneered. Pah, Weasleys. You and your kind are the biggest traitors to our blood. Maybe we should string you up as an example. Ron chuckled, Well, that went over well. I hate it when they want to do this the hard way. The crowd was working itself up. In the background, Ron saw several figures in the black berets urging their discontent, ramping the crowd up to attacking the two Aurors and the vendor. Ron took careful notice of their actions and smiled. I guess wed better head this off. Ron reached down and tapped his badge once more. A loud crack exploded in the middle of the square, catching the mob off guard. Instantly, three Ministry Hit Teams, Dennis Creevey at their head, appeared in the square, resplendent in the gray on black uniforms. Dennis baritone voice carried through the square. Disperse right now. He had a commanding tone, and the crowd at first stood unsure of what to do. Even with the prodding of the rabble rousers behind them, no one wanted to be the first to tangle with the Ministry men and women. Dennis. The team leader turned towards Ron. If you can, see if you can pick up the fellows in berets. They seem to be the trouble makers.

Dennis nodded and looked at his teams. Holding up his wand, he began to advance on the crowd, forcing them to choose, go home or fight. To a man and woman, they went home. After a few minutes, Vendira Avenue was deserted. Some of Dennis team had managed to grab hold of one or two of the bereted men, but for the most part, the crowd melted away without incident. Ron let out a heavy sigh of relief. He turned to Mortimer. Well done, you came in at the right time. Mortimer smiled and Ron noticed his trainee let out a slight shiver. Good, thought Ron, now I know he has a little fear, and thats a healthy thing. Dennis approached Ron. That could have been ugly. When did this place become such a bigotry hang out? Ron shrugged his shoulders. I dont know, but well have to keep an eye on it. Thats not what scares me though. Dennis gave his friend a questioning look. We had no idea this was happening. It begs the question, how many other places are like this? Dennis saw Rons point. The Ministry did not have the manpower to patrol every market and every gathering area. Ron gave Dennis a nod and looked over where a pair of the Hit Team was securing Harper for transport. Ron knew that Harper was too dimwitted to have come up with this gang on his own. Ron held up a beret that hed confiscated, the blood red patch glaring up at him. The secrecy of how theyd taken over Vendira Avenue and the response of the crowd scared Ron to the core. Most importantly, the words that Harper said chilled him to the bone. They blamed Hermione for the law changes. Ron felt a shudder go down his spine. How was going to protect his wife and daughter from the hate he saw today? Chapter 119 A Great Day for Quidditch Harry stared around at the faces of his Aurors gathered in the conference room. All twenty eight were assembled with Arthur Weasley, the Minister of Magic and John Dawlish sitting in as well as Dennis Creevey. The incident at Vendira Avenue had shaken Harry to the core. While hed assumed there would be opposition to the revocation of the pure-blood edicts, he had not anticipated the severity of the antipathy Ron had described to them from the scene. This wasnt just an isolated case of youthful thugs trying to intimidate some vendors, but a deeply rooted sentiment of hatred that almost exploded in a near riot. The mood in the room was somber. How in the hell did this happen? Lachlan McCrory had been an Auror for many years and the incident in Exeter had been a first for him. Harry shrugged his shoulders and looked around the room. Did we have any indication that there would be this much of a violent reaction to the laws? I dont even think it was this bad when they freed the House Elves. There were several nods around the room. Ron sat silently, a dreadful thought penetrating his head. He looked up at Harry. You know, it was different when You-KnowI mean, Voldemort was around. That raised some eyebrows around the table. What I mean is that it didnt really matter if you were muggle-born or pure-blood, he just wanted power over us all. The population was united in their oppression and in their resistance. Once his threat was gone, all the old ancestry nonsense rose right back to the top. Harry gave his friends observation some thought. Voldemort was of mixed parentage, and while he masked his ambitions in the pure-blood rhetoric, for the most part his real desire was absolute

power. This was exceedingly different, in that, the movement was sweeping up ordinary citizens, pitting neighbor against neighbor. Mortimer Gafney sat next to Ron, watching the proceedings. His brain was working at a mile a minute, trying to grasp what the senior members were discussing. Having played a big role in the integration of the Hogwarts student body, he was unused to seeing bigotry played at this level. He raised his hand sheepishly. You dont have to raise your hand here, Mortimer. This isnt Hogwarts. Say whats on your mind. Speak up. Harry turned towards his newest Auror. I dont get it, Harry. Why are these so called pure-bloods pushing so hard? There arent that many of them left and without marrying into muggle families, we would have died out years ago. Dont they see that theyre only postponing the inevitable? Mortimer was more concerned by the puzzle in his head than for any thought of fear he might have had in speaking out in this forum. That may be the case, Mortimer, but this feeling goes back centuries, even to the founding of Hogwarts. Salazar Slytherin was convinced that the magic-born were a race, not to be tainted by intermixing with muggles and such. Now, I dont know how much of this is about blood purity and how much is about retaining power over others. Its probably a case of both. Harrys mind went back to the vivid expression of contempt on Domina Malfoys face. Williamson sat up. Wait a minute, Harry. Mortimer may have hit on something here. That was a large crowd in Exeter, but how many more sympathizers for these guys can there be? Were talking about less than ten percent of the population. Youre right Eric, but remember, we dont want to hurt anyone, so well have to come up with crowd control techniques and step up patrols in the most populated areas. Harry nodded over to Dennis who was furiously taking notes. Lachlan spoke up. One other thing, Harry, I dont care what it looked like, there was definitely a catalyst for that mob. Those beret guys didnt strike me as smart enough to spell the word beret much less organize the de facto take over of Vendira Avenue. All our interrogations confirm that particular fact. Harry nodded, I have no doubt that there is a larger force behind this, something bigger underneath the scenes. Thats where we have to apply our investigative focus. I bet that Malfoy woman is behind this, with Draco right by her side. Ron grumble d. Arthur spoke up for the first time. Ron, I dont think we can make that assumption. Domina Malfoy may be the leader of the opposition and she may be arrogant, but none of these things are reasons to point to her as a rabble rouser. In fact, she always struck me as someone who didnt want to get their hands dirty. Arthur turned towards Harry. We cant turn this into; forgive my pun, some sort of witch hunt. By all means, find out whos behind this, but we mustnt make assumptions until we have facts. Harry nodded and waited for Arthur to continue, but the Minister had heard enough for the day. He rose and beckoned Dawlish to follow him. The two men waved goodbye and left the room. When they had gone, Harry looked around the room. Ive n ot doubt that there is a greater conspiracy out there, and we need to find it. That will be our investigative focus, starting with these thugs who were egging the crowd on. Harry sighed heavily and gazed around at the men and women in the room. One la st matter, then Ill let you go. I, for the most part, have no idea what any of you have as a blood status,

because I frankly dont care. If there is anyone in this room that cannot fulfill their duties because they are philosophically opposed the Ministers changes, I need to know now. Harry stared at each Auror, focusing on their eyes. I need to know, right here, right now, that I can trust you with our lives and the lives of the people who will be in danger. We cant have any loyalty issues and I will not have this team ripped apart by dissension. When you go to your desks, you will be professing your loyalty to the law and to the Minister. If you cannot, there is no shame, I will not fire you, but reassign you to other duties. Is that clear? The room grew silent as the Aurors stole cautious glances around the tables, trying to see if anyone would leave. Harry took in a deep breath. Very well, lets go to work. *** It was the last day of September and a cold front had moved in off the North Sea to blanket the countryside in ideal Quidditch weather. A nondescript moor rippled in ice cold breezes while the sun shone high in a glorious blue sky. Rising out of the middle of the bog, a large, coliseumshaped building dominated the skyline. Atop the rim of the seating tiers, bright blue flags adorned with golden bulrushes denoted the home field of Puddlemere United, the premier English Quidditch team the past two years running. The stands were filling for a remarkable exhibition match and a steady murmur of anticipation was emanating from the crowd. Harry led the way, escorting Ginny, Teddy, Ron, Hermione, George, Verity, Lee and Sarah into the stands towards their seats. Oliver Wood had sent some complimentary tickets for this match to Harry and Ginny was attending in her capacity as the now, senior Quidditch reporter for the Daily Prophet. Teddy was giddy in anticipation, his pockets bulging with an array of Quidditch Player Cards that he wanted to get signed by players of both teams. Everyone was excited about the prospect of the upcoming match, with the notable exception of Ron. You dont even like Quidditch, why the devil would you want to come this match, I wonder? Ron gave a huffy sigh towards his wife, who smirked. Youre cute when your jealous, love. Maybe I just wanted to spend time with Ginny without the kids around? Hermiones eyes twinkled in merriment at her husbands discomfort. Likely story, youre just here because hes going to be here, Im sure. When they f ound their seats, Ron sat down heavily. Whatever do you mean? Hermione smiled sweetly, offering a secret wink towards George, who was barely containing his own laughter. Oh grow up Ron. Ginny was busily arranging her notepad and self -correcting quills to follow the upcoming match. Hermione hasnt heard from Viktor in ages, besides what do you think is going to happen? You think this is part of some diabolical ten year plot by Hermione to woo her old boyfriend, Viktor Krum? Ron blushed, the absurdity in Ginnys words stinging him. Ginnys statement had a completely different effect on young Teddy, a certified Quidditch fiend. He looked at Hermione with renewed respect. Viktor Krum was your boyfriend? The awe in his voice chiseled away at Rons patience. Wow, Aunt Hermione, do you think you can get me his autograph? Hermione smiled, Ill see what I can do Teddy. Teddys glee was readily apparent on his face. Having realized that he had the ability to change his form into whatever he wanted. He had difficulty controlling his transformations for a decent stretch of time, but hed taken to changing his face into different shapes for a split second. When he beamed at Hermione, his face turned into Viktors for half a second and then turned back.

Todays match was between Puddlemere United and the Vrasta Vultures, a professional club out of Bulgaria. Viktor Krum was the Captain and Seeker on the Vulture team which had agreed to play an exhibition match with the English champions. Both squads were playing at the peak of their abilities and the fans settled in for an exciting match. The referee walked to the center of the pitch and met the captains. Oliver Wood and Viktor Krum stalked out and shook hands. All right, gentlemen, ex hibition rules apply, so try to limit the injuries on both sides. Lets give the fans a good show. The official signaled for the pair to shake hands once more and then backed off the field of play. With a raise of his hands and the sound of cannon, fourteen players flew up into the air and the match was on. From the start, the notion of exhibition rules was completely forgotten. Both teams were highly competitive, champions of their respective circuits. Bludgers began to fly, narrowly missing opposing players by an eyelash. One of the Vulture Chasers, Dimitrov scooped up the Quaffle and passed it to Ivanova, his fellow Chaser. With a sweeping barrel roll, she sent the Quaffle speeding towards the hoop, but Oliver was there in the blink of an eye to make the stop. He passed the Quaffle on to Hooper, one of his Chasers. The crowd roared enthusiastically at Olivers circus stop and followed the quickening pace of the action below. High above the pitch, Krum flew in slow circles, seeking out the Snitch. Directly opposite him, James Flatley, the Puddlemere Seeker was keeping up his own vigil. The brightness of the day made identifying the small winged ball much more difficult. Flatleys story was legendary. A muggle, raised as an orphan in the most dire of circumstances, he hadnt been identified as a wizard until his twelfth birthday. He found himself attending a small, nondescript wizarding school for boys in Wales, where he identified his passion for Quidditch. Unfortunately, his school did not have a good Quidditch program, so he was left to sneaking in to the nearby Holyhead Harpies pitch and soaring around on a decrepit Comet broom hed scraped enough scythes together to buy. One night, he was spotted by Ginny Potter and Quenog Jones, who were staying late to practice and given a try out right there. Flatley had been a natural, but Holyhead was a girls only squad. Nonetheless, he so impressed Ginny and Quenog, they started him on his path to stardom. Ginny purchased him a new Firebolt to play on, while Quenog, who was Oliver Woods girlfriend, introduced him to the Puddlemere United captain, and the rest was history. Flatley circled the pitch. Almost simultaneously, Krum and Flatley spied a glint of reflected sunlight near ground level, almost in the center of the pitch. It was the snitch! Flatley heeled to the side and put himself in a near suicidal dive, Krum mirroring his moves. The action of their teammates was at a near stalemate, no one had scored, and the crowd sensed that the match would be decided by the play of Puddlemeres heroic Seeker and Vrastas iconic champion. The Beaters of both teams began spraying Bludger shots towards the diving men, causing them to have to adjust their course all the while maintaining their acceleration towards the snitch. As they approached from opposite directions, the snitch tore upward, towards the Vrasta goals. The two men altered their courses and sped off, parallel with each other after the snitch. They sped, side by side, neck and neck, neither able to secure the advantage over the other. Without real intent, they butted up against each other, causing both men to teeter precariously on the brink of being thrown off their brooms at the breakneck speed. Inexorably, they closed on the snitch, which was flying all out. Their arms were raised outward, fingertips extended. On their flanks, one of the Vrasta Beaters, Volkov and one of the Puddlemere Beaters, Evans, each had Bludger shots lined up on the opposite teams Seeker. As if by magic, it was Quidditch after all, both hit their Bludgers at the same time, both balls streaking at high speed towards their targets, which had stopped all semblance of dodging and weaving as their fingertips neared the snitch. The crowd gasped as both Bludgers struck their targets brooms, which shattered into thousands of splinters, the momentum of the riders carrying them forward in a tumble of arms and legs. Krum and Flatley careened to the ground, landing roughly, the breath flying out of their lungs and coming to rest in a heap at the base of the Vrasta goal. The crowd stood, gasps of shock and

fear emanating from the otherwise stunned crowd. Slowly, a gloved hand rose up from the pile, holding the snitch. In the twist and mayhem of the crash, Viktor Krum had snatched the snitch in mid-crash, securing the win for the Vultures. The crowd burst into cheers and boos, as the fans of both teams acknowledged the spectacular finish. Viktor rose and extended a hand to Flatley, who gratefully accepted the display of sportsmanship. Harry was on his feet with Teddy, whooping and yelling with the majority of the crowd. Several rows behind him, a shout rang out across the pitch. Filthy Mudblood! Teach us to have a Mudblood Seeker! Harry turned around, his blood boiling. A man dressed in black robes with a red patch on his chest was directing obscenities at Flatley. Before Harry could speak out, the man began to be shouted down by the hundreds of fans nearby. Shut up, you git! Take that blood nonsense and stuff it!!! The clamor became deafening, and Harry noticed the man began to shuffle in his place nervously. Soon, stadium security escorted him away. Harry smiled to himself, perhaps the hate didnt go as far as the thought. He turned and applauded both teams as they left the pitch. *** Harry, Ginny and the rest waited near the locker rooms, guests of Oliver. Wood came out, freshly showered and changed, with Flatley. Seeing his friends, Oliver pulled his Seeker over to introduce them. When he saw Teddy, Oliver flashed his signature smile. Hey, theres my biggest fan! Whats going on prism head? He ruffled Teddys hair, which turned a shocking pink. James, my boy, this here is Teddy Lupin, who will be the best keeper, ever, one day. Teddy blushed, but didnt want to let the prism head comment go. Well, after today, I think I want to be a Seeker, they seem to get all the glory. Oliver gave a mock wounded look while the rest laughed. Flatley gave a sad expression, Well, I didnt get the glory today. Thats okay, it was an amazing play, on both sides. Would you mind signing your card for me? Teddy extended the Flatley Card from his deck. The Puddlemere Seeker smiled and nodded. A voice came from behind them. The boy is right. It was an amazing play, I was proud to be part of it. They turned to spy the massive bulk of Viktor Krum approaching. He shook hands with Oliver and placed another on Flatleys shoulder. It was a thing of inches, you did well. If ever you want to play on a real team, owl me. Oliver laughed, but kept a close eye on Viktor. Viktor turned and nodded to Hermione. Hello, Hermione. It has been a long time. You look lovely. Hermione blushed noticeably, Thanks Viktor, you look good too, I mean, youre looking well She stammered out the words, ignorant of the eye rolls Ron was giving. Viktor turned to Ron. And you, Ron Weasley. It took you long enough to snatch her up. She always liked you, but you were too dense to piece it ou t, I think. Ron stood dumbfounded while Viktor turned to Harry. Hello, Harry.

Viktor, how are you? Harry turned to introduce his wife. This is Ginny, my wife, but be careful, shes a reporter for the Prophet and my godson, Teddy Lupin. Viktor smiled at Ginny. It is an honor, I have read your material, and you are very fair. Those simple words to Ginny were like effusive praise, so she blushed. Viktor turned towards Teddy. I knew your mother when she played at Hogwarts. She was very good. Teddys jaw dropped, hed gone to Quidditch heaven. Viktor pointed to his card in Teddys hand. Would you like me to sign that for you? All Teddy could do was nod and gape at the hulking legend. While he signed Teddys card, Viktor leaned into Harrys ear. I have a message. I must talk to you, privately. It concerns all of us. Karkaroff says that we are in great danger. Harry tried not to show his surprise, and only nodded. He thought for a moment and then whispered back at Krum. Meet me at the Hogs Head tavern in Hogsmeade tonight at nine. We can talk there. Viktor nodded and joined in the general chatter that had broken out among the group. Harry stayed back for a second. What could Viktor want to say? Why hadnt he gone through n ormal channels? What kind of information would a former Death Eater have? Could he trust it? Carefully, Harry glanced at his watch. He would find out later tonight. He cinched up his shoulders and walked up to Ginnys side. Casually, he put his arms around his shoulders, and joined in the celebration. He stole a secret glance at Krum, who was chatting it up with George and Hermione. Krum met Harrys eyes and held an expression of danger, fear and terror all at once. Harry shuddered and unconsciously began counting the seconds until nine. Chapter 120 A Message from Karkaroff Harry apparated in the center of Hogsmeade and glanced around the small village. The cool fall evenings sent a chill through his bones and he tightened up the collar of his jacket and set off for the back alley which held the Hogs Head pub. He strode past the Weasleys Wheezes shop and on down the sparsely populated street. Night fell earlier and the gas lamps were casting a warm glow on the cobble stoned street of the quaint village. He turned down a darkened alley where the street lamps seemed to be dimmer. At the end of the alley, the battered wooden sign of the Hogs Head creaked back and forth in the wind. He approached the door and pushed it open, stepping into the shadowy confines of the Hogs Head. Behind the bar, Aberforth Dumbledore cast a surprised glance at his arrival, his baleful blue eyes twinkling in delight. Ho, Harry! What brings you out this way? Aberforth raised an empty mug, asking Harrys order. Im meeting someone, Aberforth. Harry glanced around the bar. There were several patrons scattered about, hunched over their drinks trying to remain inconspicuous. Ill take ale. Harry nodded thanks and tossed several coins down on the bar and walked back to a booth at the far end of the pub. The Hogs Head was a seedy establishment, home to a rougher clientele. Harry often used it for meetings that he wanted out of the reach of prying ears. Aberforth could be trusted to keep a secret and his customers were more concerned with not catching the attention of an Auror from the Ministry of Magic, especially the Head of the Aurors, then listening in on his conversations. Harry took his seat and sipped on his beer. He glanced at his wrist watch. Krum was five minutes late. Harry tensed, wondering what had become of the swarthy Bulgarian. At that moment, the front door opened and Viktor Krum trod in and gave a careful scan of the room. Spotting Harry straight off, Viktor stopped at the bar and bought himself a pint and walked

back to the booth. Without saying a word, he slid into the booth, sitting sideways in order to keep an eye on the front door. Thank you for meeting me, Harry. Viktor spoke in a harsh whisper, his eyes flickering aroun d the room. Harry could see that he was obviously agitated about something. No problem, Viktor. Your message intrigued me, considering that Professor Karkaroff is dead. Harrys voice was steady. The first rule of interrogation was to stay calm. T he second rule was to not let the interviewee know that it was an interrogation. Karkaroffs name had raised suspicions in Harrys mind. Viktor, for his part, smiled and relaxed slightly. I am sorry for the confusion. If you will, let me explain. Harry waved a hand, prompting Viktor to continue. After our stay for the Triwizard Tournament, Professor Karkaroff pulled me aside and told me the real reason for our visit, the reason beyond just attending the tournament. Your Professor Dumbledore was trying to build a coalition against the Dark Lord. At the mention of Voldemort, Krum paused and checked the room once again. Karkaroff knew better than anyone that no one would be safe. He had been a Death Eater and knew the evil that was approaching. Krum gave an apologetic nod. I am sorry Harry, but he did not believe that you would succeed in defeating the Dark Lord. Durmstrang had to be ready in case we had to defend ourselves. Voldemort had many sympathizers in my country and in our school. I decided to gather a few of my fellow students that I could trust and form a resistance cell. I asked Professor Karkaroff to teach us, in secret, what we would need to survive. We disguised the group as an academic club, calling it the Karkaroff Literary Club. We would meet every week, late at night in the dungeons beneath our school and Professor Karkaroff would teach us how to survive an encounter with the Dark Lord. Krum had a faraway look in his eyes, remembering the late nights and the questionable spells the former Death Eater would teach them. Harry felt a tinge of nostalgia, Krums experience almost mirroring his own with Dumbledores Army. He marveled at the lengths good people would reach for to fight evil. It was exhilarating. Krum returned to the present. When the Dark Lord returned, we did what we could, but Professor Karkaroff was murdered and we lost our focus, for a time. In the end, we rose up at the school and fought the Death Eater sympathizers. When you killed Voldemort, Harry, you freed us all. We were victorious. Karkaroffs Literary Club went into retirement, so that, we could concentrate on living the rest of our lives. Krum paused once more, his breathing was starting quicken. Harry leaned forward, trying to get Viktor to come to the point of his visit. But? But, Harry, dark things are happening again. I fear this is worse than the rise of the Dark Lord. Krum reached into the breast pocket of his cloak and pulled out a folded piece of cloth. Opening it, he tossed it down on the table. It was a round patch, dark red with a black wand in the middle. It was identical to the icon that adorned the fliers from Vendira Avenue. Harry picked up the patch and held it to his eyes. Where did you get this? Harrys voice was sharp, a cold sense of dread overcoming him. Krums voice dropped. The pure-blood movement is rampant in Europe, Harry. Its different from here, I suspect, because there are more pure-blood families where I live. I am a pure-blood. Their numbers are easier to maintain because there are more families to intermarry, especially across the borders. Viktor took a pull on his ale. The thing is Harry, they are very disturbed by the direction your Ministry is taking. I think there is something holding them together, something ancient and they are taking action.

Harry sat back. How long has this been going on? Since the fall of the Dark Lord. The fear of his rise had brought everyone together, but with his death, old prejudices were allowed to come forward. It started slowly, a small harassment here, a shattered window there, but before long, they had taken over complete control of our Ministry of Magic. I reformed the Literary Club, but even its ranks were penetrated by these pure-blood fanatics. I had to cut out the traitors and rely on a small group that I could trust. Harrys mind went back to the question hed asked his Aurors, but what about the Ministry itself? Could they have highly placed and unsuspected sympathizers to this conspiracy? My new group consists of some of my old comrades from school and some others that I can trust who want to keep an eye out for trouble. We changed our name. Now, we are simply known as Karkaroff. I bring you a message from Karkaroff, based on the intelligence we have been able to gather. Krum looked around once more and then leaned in closer to Harry. These pure-blood sympathizers are planning a purge of mixed blood wizards and witches across Europe. They see events in England as a warning and they are starting to put things in motion to stop your Minister. As we speak, they are looking to infiltrate the International Convention of Wizards and when they do, they will move to act against England, should their chapter here fail to stop you. Krums words shocked Harry. Youre talking war. Harry could scarcely believe his ears. War between wizarding countries was practically unheard of. The bloodshed would be on a scale that was unimaginable. Can it be stopped? Krum nodded his head. I think so. While the prejudice is widespread, the actual leaders of this movement are small in number. Harry gave Viktor look. I do not know who they are. They play on the fears of the established family, but there is definitely a guiding hand behind this. That is why I sought you out Harry. Karkaroff is small, I do not have the numbers to stop them in Bulgaria, but the center of mass is here. I believe the conspiracy is based here. Stop the conspiracy and you cut off the head. We will work with you to help. Harry thought for a minute. Agreed, how do you wish to maintain communications? Through the Ministry? Krum shook his head. I am sorry, Harry. I do not trust your Ministry. I am coming directly to you. I only trust you. Karkaroff has limited numbers, one slip and we are all dead. I will have an agent here that you can contact me through. Who? How? You remember our Beater, Volkov? Harry thought back to the match. Volkov had sent the Bludger that knocked Flatley off his broom. Harry nodded. He has accepted a spot on the Puddlemere United team. He is one of us. I have a means to pass messages to him, and you must find a way for him to contact you. I think I have an idea that should work and it will limit Volkovs exposure. Do you have any idea who is in on this conspiracy? What they are planning? Harrys mind raced, who could he trust? We know very little. Access to the top is very restricted. We know that they are working on something that will preserve the pure-blooded for centuries to come. Beyond that, we do not know how. I am working on that part. We also know one other thing. Whoever is leading them is from here, England. Krum paused, checking his surroundings.

Is that all? Harry had very little to go on. Krum shook his head. No, we know whoever is leading them is a woman. *** The meeting room was on the top floor of a contemporary office building in the heart of London. Around a long, oval conference table in the middle of the room, fourteen people sat contemplating the progress of their movement to date. They were all dressed in long, flowing crimson robes, the hoods drawn up over their heads. Over their faces, they wore shiny white theatre masks that extended from their foreheads to the top of their mouths, obscuring their identities from each other. At the head of the table, the leader scanned the rest, coming to the last few items of the agenda. We are beginning to become known to the authorities. It is too soon to hav e Harry Potter and his mudblood do-gooders nosing around our affairs. Why have your thugs been so blatant in their displays, Number Seven? The leader, known only as Number One, glared through the mask at the figure midway down the table. Despite being disguised, the man known as Number Seven shivered in fear. Our message has been resonating around the pure-blooded, Number One. Our followers have been a trifle overenthusiastic. We are building up momentum that will sweep away the halfbreeds from our streets. Just look at the success we had in Vendira Avenue. There isnt a mudblood to be found! Number Seven grinned, believing the efficacy of his own words. Number Ones lips were full and ruby red. Number One was obviously a woman. She gave a small nod towards the figure to her immediate right, the member known as Number Two. The figure nodded back and drew his wand. A bright flash of red light seared across the table and struck Number Seven in the chest, sending him reeling to the floor. Number One spoke through gritted teeth. You fool! All youve done is concentrate the majority of our popular following in one place. We are diluted everywhere else. She rose and walked slowly around the table to where he sat on the floor. As for momentum, that will peter out as that blood-traitor Weasley and his mudblood puppet Potter are now engaged in ferreting us out. She drew out her wand and placed its tip on his neck. I should kill you now, for your stupidity. Fail this council again, and I will. Ahem, Number One? A voice from the table spoke out. It was female and Number One detected a hint of a foreign accent. It was one of the European members of the gathering. The woman spoke, as if nothing violent had just occurred. That raises a question. If our numbers are so small, how can we expect to overcome the numbers of the mudbloods who are breeding like rabbits. That is a good question, Number Nine. Number One had regained her composure and walked back to her seat. It is answered by the completion of Project Perseverance. That is why we must not move too soon. Let the Ministry of Magic have its day. Our goals are bigger, and once we have the means, none of their changes will matter. There were nods of agreement around the table. As one, the members rose and started filing out of the room. Number One raised a hand to stop Number Two from leaving. Once the others had filed out, she turned to face him. Number Seven is an idiot. The fool will compromise us before we are ready. Number Two remained silent, a question in his eyes. Eliminate him. Find me a replacement, someone who will organize the pure-blood masses, but will not draw attention. We are getting closer and closer. Soon, the question of blood purity will be a thing of the past and our race will dominate the magic world and the world at large.

Her eyes shone as she stared out the windows at the unsuspecting muggles. Soon, she thought, soon. Number Two gave a brief bow, and strode out the door to do his mistress bidding. Chapter 121 Making of an Honest Man The steps creaked as the pair made their way up the old flight of stairs. Wincing at the violation of their stealth, the older of the two make a rushed hushing motion to his shorter companion. Nonplussed, his partner grimaced in embarrassment and the two walked down the long hallway at the top of the landing. This early in the morning, every sound seemed amplified, from their breathing to their steps and they walked with exaggerated care. The pair crept down the long hallway until they reached an open door which marked the entrance to their target. Peering carefully into the room, they were momentarily stricken with the sight of the carnage and the smell emanating from within. The room was originally laid out in dormitory style. It was long, extending almost half the entire length of the building with rows of twin beds arranged along the walls. As a boarding house, it had seen its share of passers-through, but never had it seen the wanton destruction that had been visited upon it. The duo made their way into the room, stepping over the prone form of a large, short-haired man had appeared to have been trying to exit the room, but never made it past the threshold. Their eyes scanned the room, the usually neat rows of beds had been tossed asunder, mattresses and bed linens draped across the floor, the bed frames twisted in various positions of disarray. The two tip toed through the center of the room, trying with great difficulty to avoid the rancid pools of liquid that permeated throughout. The two finally came to the center of the room and found the focus of the disarray that had struck this place. The figures of five men were strewn in the center of the floor, haphazardly strung out around a thick, metal cylinder. The tallest of the five had his head lying on the side of the metal cylinder, as if his cheek were surgically attached to its body. The older of the two looked over to his partner and nodded. With a wicked grin, the younger reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and drew out a thin, round stick, about two inches in diameter, wrapped with dense red paper. Extending out the top of the stick was a fuse, which curled around. The younger conspirator patted his coat, seeking a match, but could not find one. Balefully, he turned to his partner who smiled and drew his wand. With a whispered incantation, the tip of his wand ignited into a small wisp of bluish flame. Extending the fire to the fuse, the older man lit it and watched as his young friend tossed the stick into the far corner of the room and then placed his fingers into his ears. The older man chuckled as he mimicked his partner and positively laughed out loud as his partners hair turned a distinct shade o f violet. Arthur Weasley and Teddy Lupin had been sent to roust the dead. The Weasley Whistling Whiz Bang in the corner of the room would surely do the trick, or their money back, as the wrapping boldly stated. The smoking fuse disappeared into the body of the Whizbang, which exploded into a series of loud explosions, each one getting progressively louder. A flare of bugles and loud whistles filled in the dead space between explosions. The bodies on the floor miraculously sat upright, everyone holding their heads and wishing they were dead or the noise would stop, whichever came first. After a few minutes, the loud noises stopped and Arthur could make out the moans and groans of the survivors of the George Weasley bachelor party. Who the devil did that, Ill kill them. Ron Weasleys voice came out in a half retching, half moaning tone as his blood shot eyes scanned the room, seeking the source of his torment. His best friend and boss, Harry Potter, had already risen to his feet and was swaying unsteadily over Lee Jordan, who had his face buried in a nearby bucket. Harrys cousin, Dudley was busily shaking the shoulders of the object of the affair, George Weasley, whose cheek seemed to be permanently affixed to the keg in the center of the room.

Somebody help me with George. His face is stuck to the keg. Dudleys voice was a whisper, like a first year on their first visit to the Hogwarts library. Harry turned to him, drawing his wand. Theres no need to shout, my head can hear you fine. Harry staggered over to where Dudley had been vainly tugging on Georges head to separate the skin from the metal cask. With an unsteady hand, Harry pointed his wand at the keg and a bolt of yellowish light struck the side of Georges face, separating from the metal. With no support from the keg, Georges head plunked down onto the wood floor of the room with a thud, and a moan from the ungrateful groom to be. Ow, that hurt. Harry held his hand to his forehead, the exertion of performing magic hav ing unleashed a beast of a migraine on his temple. You hurt, what about me? Georges words were muffled as his forehead and face were still firmly planted on the floors as if the simple act of turning to the side would have caused his noggin to separate from his shoulders. Arthur and Teddy shared a giggle and then Arthur pointed his wand at his neck. Sonorus! Immediately, Arthurs voice was amplified to about ten times its normal volume. Added to the obviously inebriated state of the victims in the room, his voice seemed to rattle around their brains like a hot lava rock. Good morning, gentlemen! And you too, Lee and Seamus. No one laughed at Arthurs feeble attempt at humor. The bride and the mother of the groom sent me out to ensure that you would be awake to get the groom to his appointment at the Burrow this afternoon. Arthur peered down at Teddy who held up a wristwatch for the Minister of Magic to see. It is now seven thirty in the morning. The wedding is scheduled for high noon. The groom, the best man and the ushers should be at the Burrow no later than eleven in order to seat the guests. Arthur took a quick look at Lee, the best man, and the groomsmen, Ron, Charlie, Bill, Harry and Dudley. With a flourish, Arthur pulled the wand out and beckoned Teddy to follow him. As they approached the door, Arthur placed the wand back to his throat. I would also recommend that you get to fixing this room back to the way you find it. The proprietor of the Leaky Cauldron is close friends with my daughter and daughter-in-law and has promised to engage them in the next phase of your wake up. The thought of Hannah Abbott pulling Ginny and Hermione into the act caused a few groans, but Arthur was pleased to see that it also spurred a good number of the revelers into action. Arthur chuckled once more and he and Teddy made their way down the stairs to the pub area of the Leaky Cauldron. I see what you mean, Uncle Arthur. Teddy looked over at Arthur, a pleased look on his face. What do you see, Teddy my boy? Arthur was placing a bag of coins on the bar for the trouble, but was having a hard time convincing Hannah Abbott to take the money. Thats why I dont see you drinking very often. It doesnt seem very fun. The miser y of their friends was vivid in young Teddys mind. Why would anyone ever want to get drunk? Quite the contrary, Teddy. Drinking to inebriation can be very fun. Arthur paused for a moment and glanced up stairs towards the remnants of the party. Its fun for those who arent drunk. There was a twinkle in his eyes as Arthur reached into his own pocket and drew out another Whiz Bang, this one twice the size of the one Teddy had used to wake the hung-over men upstairs. With a wicked grin, Arthur lit the fuse and handed it to Teddy, who laughed and began to run up the stairs, barely hearing Arthurs words. Its very fun for those who didnt drink.

*** November was an odd time of the year at the Burrow in Ottery St. Catchpole. The apple trees in the orchard had lost most of their foliage and looked thin and pitiful. A brisk wind blew through the empty limbs and the sky was overcast. Despite the trappings of winter, it still wasnt quite cold enough for snow to fall, yet not pleasant enough for outdoor activities. Nonetheless, George and Verity had decided that sooner rather than later was the opportune time for their wedding. The Wedding Trinity, as everyone had taken to calling them, had gone all out to arrange the best possible ceremony. Petunia Dursley, Andromeda Tonks and Molly Weasley were using Georges wedding as a dry run for their new venture. Each brought remarkably different skill sets to the party. Petunia was a stickler for detail. Harry often spoke of how neat and tidy her house had been, much to the detriment of his continuing happiness during his childhood, but it spoke of a character trait in his aunt that made her the planner and project manager for the event. Andromeda was the creative arm of the triumvirate, responsible for the magic necessary to provide a festive air to the event. She and Petunia were busily putting the finishing touches on the dcor of the large pavilion in the paddock near the home. Molly was in charge of catering. Her mouth watering skills were put to the test to feed the army of well-wishers that were expected to attend. She was busily working in the temporary outdoor kitchen that had been erected near the broom shed, side by side with Kreacher and a couple of other house-elves on loan from Hogwarts. Arthur and Teddy disapparated into the center of the pavilion, still laughing at the results of the last Whiz Bang that Teddy had tossed into the center of the Leaky Cauldron sleeping area. Well, did you find them? Petunia approached them at rapid pace, busily checking items off on her clipboard. Arthur nodded and placed a finger on his lips with a glance at Teddy. Yes, Petunia. Theyll be here on time, I wager. Arthur took a look around, but Petunia hadnt seemed to hear him, instead checking off another item on her list. Teddy, be a dear and help Victoire watch the little ones so that I can speak to your Aunt Fleur. Petunia had looked up from her list and gave a smile over at Teddy who nodded. OK Aunt Petunia. Teddy bound off for the house. Petunia looked over at Arthur. I dont know why you had to make that trip, when we have so much to do here. My Dudders would have made sure they made it in time. Hes very responsible. Arthur stifled a laugh, remembering Dudleys wobbly frame trying to separate Georges face from the keg. Im sure, Petunia, but a father likes to have a hand on these type of things. Petunia nodded. Of course, Arthur, but now, would you be so kind and reinforce the footings near the stage? A couple of the floor pieces are bent up and we dont want the bride to trip. Before Arthur could accept his assignment, Petunia had moved on to the next item on her list. *** Because Verity was an orphan, the Weasleys had decided, at the prompting of Aunt Petunia to not have separate bride and groom seating, but to have everyone sit together. Harry was given the honor of walking Verity Hopkins down the aisle. The Wedding Trinity had outdone themselves in their planning. The entire open area of the apple orchard had been taken up with a high-ceilinged pavilion. In the center of the tented area, a deep fire pit had been dug and filled with smoldering charcoal embers that gave off a warmed lilac scent. The room was warm, but not oppressively so and candles floated in the air, by the thousands, giving a warm, friendly light

to the area. A raised stage stood at the front of the room where George waited for his fianc to complete her journey to the wedding dais. He was joined by Lee Jordan, his best man and his brothers, Ron, Charlie, Bill and Percy. Preceding the bride, Sarah Jordan was the matron of honor, followed by Hermione, Ginny, Fleur and Penelope Clearwater. Penny was an interesting addition to the group. Percy had undergone an immense reevaluation of his priorities during his tenure as his fathers deputy liaison. Seeing his brothers and his sister find happiness had weighed on him. Hed reached out to his former girlfriend from Hogwarts, Penny, and found that she too, was unhappy with her job-only focus. Their relationship had restarted and now they were near inseparable, much to the delight of Molly. George had not been fully interested in the details of the ceremony, save for one very important item. Hed agonized over the decision, but finally, after an evening spent with Verity, where he realized her place in his life, he came to the only conclusion he could. Hed asked that no mention of his brother Fred be done during the ceremony. It wasnt that he could fully forget his brother, nor would he want to, but George felt in his heart that it would be patently unfair to Verity to bring Freds ghost into the picture on her day of days. By doing so, George hoped to convey that she had an entirely special place in his heart. She wasnt s ome replacement for Fred, she was the evolution of his entire being and she deserved to have the day for her and for them. In doing so, George was finally at peace and could look forward to the future. *** The ceremony was touching, Molly Weasley made a complete scene, her wails making Percy and Charlie completely uncomfortable as she cried out between sniffs, Only two left to go, only two left to go. Theyd brought Kingsley Shacklebolt in to perform the ceremony, allowing Arthur to play the role of doting father. Kingsleys deep, throaty voice struck a chord with the attendees, passing through themes of love and commitment, but lingering mostly on friendship. The future is always uncertain. Kingsleys voice rippled through the crowd. There wi ll always be challenges in our lives, but the bonds of marriage are lasting, they are the unbreakable bonds that tie two souls together. His eyes shone with conviction. As we look to the future, those of us gathered here to witness the union of George and Verity are also bound by the love we have for them and for each other. We will overcome any challenge and any foe. We are the light of good in a dark world and nothing is better representative of this than the couple before you. Kingsley paused and smiled. Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to present to you for the first time in public, Mr. and Mrs. George and Verity Weasley. The applause was thunderous and Kingsley had to hold his hands up for quiet. You may now kiss your bride. The bridal party came off the stage and George swallowed nervously as he leaned forward to kiss his wife. Their lips met; light at first and then became more insistent, more passionate. The kiss lingered as the guests clapped and shouted with great enthusiasm. A minute passed and then two, and still their lips were clasped together. When the kiss entered its third minute, the applause had died down and the crowd noticed something was amiss. Harry went up to the couple. Is something wrong? Harry whispered urgently. George managed to speak through their locked lips. Were shtuck! I cant move away. What? Harry became a little alarmed, although he felt a bout of the giggles fast approaching. Our lipsh are shtuck togesher! George peered through the cor ner of his eyes, his stare settling on Lee and Dudley who were standing together, whistling softly and looking conspicuously inconspicuous. I am sho going to get you two back!

The pair gave shrugs and then bolted for the tent entrance, not scared of Ge orges threat, but fleeing the evil look on the face of Molly Weasley as she reached for wand. *** The dilapidated shanty sat on the outskirts of Exeter, standing readily plain against the backdrop of the other plain homes in the area. The fading door splintered open, and Leonora Sigismund and Sean Manchester burst into the shabby living room, wands raised. The two Aurors split up and searched the house. Are you sure this is the place? Manchester looked around, checking to see if any Muggles had seen their entrance. They didnt need any interference from the local authorities. Leonora nodded. The jinx on the Unforgiveables is pretty powerful, especially when someone uses the Avada Kedavara curse. They were responding to the use of the killin g curse. Considering the location, Exeter where the near riot had occurred, the Auror were taking no chances. Manchester nodded to the worn stairs in the corner. His partner nodded and the pair proceeded cautiously up the stairs. There was only one room at the top of the landing, covering the entire floor. A musty bed sat at the center of the room. When they entered, Leonora spotted a pair of shoed feet protruding from the other side of the bed. She nodded to Manchester who carefully moved to get a glimpse of the figure on the floor. A man was lying on the floor, clothed in a bright crimson robe; a gilded number seven was embroidered on his right shoulder. A stark white theater mask covered the upper portion of his face and Sean reached over carefully to pull it off. Lets see who this poor sod is. Manchester pulled off the mask and saw the telltale signs of the open, dead eyes of the victim of the killing curse. Manchester let out a low whistle as he recognized the dead man. Well Ill be. Walden Macnair. It looks like the executioner got executed. By whom? And why? The question hung in the air. Why is he wearing those robes? Manchester shrugged his shoulders. The room was barren, empty, no trace of Macnairs assailant and no reason as to why the former Death Eater was murdered. Leonoras boot passed over a part of the floor which creaked strangely. Pausing, she stooped down and pried loose a floorboard that was not nailed down. Reaching into the crevice, she pulled out a bunch of the black berets with the red patch banded together and tossed them on the bed. She reached back in and pulled out a sheaf of Pure-blood fliers and tossed them also on the bed. She pushed her hand back into the cubby hole and seemed to search around for a little while longer. She stopped abruptly, her hand coming into contact with one more item. She lifted it out of the cubby and held it to the light. In her hand, she held a thin, leather-bound ledger. She opened it briefly to the first page and raised her eyebrows at the words written within. The Last Will and Testament of Walden Macnair Chapter 122 The Last Will and Testament of Walden Macnair The thin brown book sat by itself in the middle of the conference room table in the Auror meeting room. Harry sat at the head of the table and took in the attendees to the ad hoc meeting hed convened to go over the contents of Walden Macnairs will. To his right, his four team leaders, Lachlan, Williamson, Cavendish and Savage, sat anxiously as Leonora and Sean went over the events leading up to the seizure of the book. To his left, Dawlish and Percy Weasley sat, their heads huddled together as they went over relevant points detailed by the discovery. Sitting next

to Percy, a square jawed man with thick, straw colored hair stroked his chin as each detail in the report was outlined to the group. Next to the wizard, a slightly built, rail thin witch with dark, stringy hair was furiously writing on a notepad. Harry snapped out of his reverie. Leonora and Sean had completed their report and the people gathered around the table were staring at him. He shook loose of the thoughts running through his head and smiled. Thank you, Leonora. I appreciate your diligence. If you wouldnt mind, cou ld you excuse us for a moment? The two Aurors recognized their dismissal from the meeting and made their exit. After they had left, Harry leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table. Well, thoughts? He looked around the table, inviting comments. I dont know, Harry. Has anyone read whats in there? Lachlan McCrory stroked his white beard. The only writing we can find is on the first page. Harry acknowledged. The rest seem blank, but I wouldnt assume that they are. Harry remembered h is encounter with the diary of Tom Riddle in his second year at Hogwarts. Macnair wasnt the sharpest tack in the drawer. Maybe he didnt write anything because he didnt know how to write. Williamsons comment brought an eye roll from those assembl ed. Let me have a look. Dawlish grasped the book from Lachlan and flipped through the pages randomly. The blank sheets stared back at him. He turned to the cover page while his eyes squinted in earnest. Dawlish gave a low whistle and then pulled his wand from his sleeve. Waving the wand over the book, he spoke. Walden Macnair is dead. The entire book glowed in Dawlishs hands. I reedy voice spoke out. Says who? Who can attest to the death of my master? John Dawlish, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Ministry of Magic. The book hummed for a second and the thin voice spoke again. Who will witness this testimony? Harry James Potter, Head of the Office of Aurors, Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Ministry of Magic. Harry spoke up, excited by the momentum he was getting. The book spoke once more. The death of Walden Macnair having been duly attested to by officials in the government, the last will and testament is so posted, per the wishes of the decedent. Dawlish placed the ledger on the table. The book flipped open and the pages began to flutter back and forth, as if an unseen thumb were flipping through it randomly. A white light shimmered from the middle of its binding, casting a three dimensional image in the air, just above the book. The image was a murky, muddy cloud that slowly coalesced into the head and face of Walden Macnair. Harry hadnt seen Macnair since his encounter with him at the Department of Mysteries during Harrys fifth year at Hogwarts. Macnairs features were worn; the years in Azkeban had aged him noticeably. The head in the center of the table began to speak. My name is Walden Macnair and if youre watchin this, Im deader than a doornail. This is supposed to be my will, but I aint got no family to speak of and if I did, I aint got nothin to leave

em. So, this is gonna be my confession, cause I have a pretty good idea of who killed me. Thats right, someone murdered me. Me mum always said I was destined to die by misadventure, and I reckon she was right. Funny thing is, I always thought bein a Death Eater would get me killed. If it weren the Aurors, then itd be the Dark Lord hisself. The disembodied face chuckled and then once more, grew serious. Any how, whoever is seein this will probably know that I did plenty wrong as a Death Eater. I wasnt one to serve the Dark Lord. Im a dedicated pure-blood, through and through. By the time I figured out what he was about, I was into him up to my eyeballs. Thas nothin really. I did my time in Azkeban and the old Dark Lord got hisself killed. I headed home to Exeter an tried to find work, but the only work I could find was playin second fiddle to some mudblood. The words came out contemptuously, the rancor of having to stoop to serving the less than pure born seeping from his fiber. I wen and tried to look up some of my ol Death Eater pals, but theyd all been takin in. I was at my lowest end. I almost gave in and started working for some filthy mudblood, but someone took me in. Someone gave me a purpose. I joined the Circle. I know, I know, you don know what the Circle is and whos in it. Truthfully, I don know who they are either, but I know what they want. The air in the room was deathly still, a name to the conspiracy had been provided. Simple fact is, they want to fix it so purebloods run the world, permanent. I was what they called their rabble rouser. Theres fourteen leaders, I was number seven. Stinking number seven. I don know who the rest are. The leader is a woman and Im pretty sure there are some of my old friends in the leadership. We wore masks and robes and all that silly secret stuff. Anyway, my job was rile up the ignorant purebloods and make trouble. I decided that Id get back at those pompous half-breeds in Vendira Avenue. It worked too. It worked too well. I suspect the Circle will look at me succeedin as evidence of how bad I did the work. I know more about terror and killin muggles than any of those sots. Macnair snorted. Ill teach them to kill me. This is bigger n me. This is bigger n England, even. There are foreigners in the Circle. They aim to head off the changin of the laws to be friendly to everyone, but they aint lookin just to stop the Ministry. They aim to change everything for good. They got some project goin. Dont ask, I dont know, but they say itll make everythin good for pure bloods and get rid of the mudblood problem. The ramifications seemed ominous, yet the details were sparse. Ill finish with these final words. The Circle aint just Death Eaters, there be refined, so -called dogooders in their ranks. The International Confederation of Wizards has somethin to do with this. They got eyes and ears everywhere, in the Confederation, in the Wizengamot, in the Ministry itself. Got to keep an eye on all those blood traitors, you know. The leader is a woman, but the fiercest, most blood thirsty wench I ever met. She reminds me of dear Bellatrix. Now that was a woman that could make a mans blood boil. He snorted once more and smiled a devious, evil leer. I aint tellin you this to redeem my soul. I believe in their cause, but no one kills me without a price. I shoulda been higher like Number Four or Five, but they made me Seven. They need to pay. Ill leave you with this. What eer their doin, itll mean the death of a lot of mudbloods and muggles. They aim to gain dominance over everyone, everywhere. Somethin about the destiny of purebloods. We were born to rule. The head sighed for a minute than concluded.

Id surely would have like to seen it, but I guess it aint meant to be. I only had one regret. I killed me a lot people and a lot of creatures, but I got cheated out of killing a nice fat hippogriff. I sure would have liked to have gotten my hands on that one at Hogwarts, but someone tricked us out of it. Maybe Ill meet the one who done tricked me out of the chance in hell? Id wish you good luck, but I dont know whos watchin this and truth be told, I don care. I just hope I caused some chaos. The head snickered once more and flickered out of existence. The book lay open and black, sloppily written words of the heads transcript could be seen on the pages. The room was silent , as the members brooded over the contents of the message. The square jawed man next to Dawlish sighed. Thats preposterous! Were talking about an International conspiracy. Is that why you wanted me and Hestia here? The man nodded to the woman at his left. Yes, Elphias. Id heard from other sources that the possibility of a wider ranging conspiracy was at hand. Harry sighed inwardly, glad at least, that the will had made it possible for him to investigate the issue without revealing his meeting with Krum. For some reason that he could not understand, Harry wanted to keep the Krum communication confidential for the time being. Elphias Doge, the wizard whod spoken had been a member of the Order of the Phoenix during the Voldemort Wars. He was the Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation. His department oversaw Britains interactions with the rest of the wizarding world and provided the administrative liaison to the worlds wizarding government body, the International Confederation of Wizards. The woman to his right was Hestia Jones. She held one of the British seats in the Confederation and, like Doge, was a veteran of the Order of the Phoenix. A while back, shed been responsible for getting the Dursleys secreted away an d out of reach of the Dark Lord. She sat for a moment, contemplating the implications of Macnairs statement. The problem is, Harry, how do we separate the conspirators from those that are just bigoted? Hestia tugged at a tendril of her hair. The Co nfederation is much worse than the muggle United Nations in its bias. Many would welcome the eradication of muggles and half-bloods, but that doesnt mean they would be involved. Its a bit dicey. Harry sat back. For now, all we can manage is to stop them here, in Britain. Well have to work the International angle more discreetly. Thats why I wanted you involved, Elphias. Its time to dust off the covers on your intelligence gathering apparatus. We need to know what were up against in Xanadu. The mythical city of Xanadu was the seat of the International Confederation of Wizards. It existed on a magical plane, just out of sight of the real world. It was accessed through a maintenance door off the main brewery tour of the Heineken Beer headquarters in Amsterdam. Thats why the members met only during tourist season, given that hundreds of strangely clad people during non-visiting hours would raise an eyebrow or two. Well, now we know that the thugs in Exeter are only the tip of the iceberg. Well need to find this Circle. Dawlishs voice was worried. Harry nodded and stood. Well dig deeper into Macnair. Hes got to have left a trail somewhere. The rest stood with him. Lachlan? John? Can you wait a moment? Harry bade the team leaders and guests farewell and waited until the door closed behind them. When they were alone, Harry related his meeting to the two men. The thing is, I dont know who we can trust. This is bigger than what we faced with Voldemort. The fact is Hestias right. People will sympathize with the cause, and not necessarily be a part of the movement. Harry sat back wearily, watching Lachlan and Dawlish exchange glances.

What do you propose, Harry? Dawlish began to run his hand through his graying hair, a nervous tic of his that started every time he was nervous. This all goes back to the Ministers initiative. It may not be the end game, but it started when we announced it. The Malfoys have always been at the forefront of this pureblood nonsense and that Domina Malfoy seems to be the pick of the litter. Id like to conduct a little unofficial investigation of their activities. Thats the best I can do. Harry thought back to the Wizengamot and the cold, blue eyes of Domina Malfoy. Dawlish nodded. Be careful, Harry. Without any real proof, we are awfully exposed. You can not move without concrete evidence. Harry nodded, unsure of whether that evidence would be forthcoming. *** The Circle had convened in an abandoned hangar located at an out of the way air base that dated back to the Second World War. Number One sat at the head of the table addressing her flock. Weve had a change. We now have a new Number Seven, who will be responsible for our public outreach and diversion. She pointed to a spot, halfway down the table. The man with the embroidered number seven on his shoulder gave a nod to the rest of the group. He was large, hulking and his robes fit tightly across his chest, pulling most of the folds and pleats straight. His mask seemed tight on his face and he could be heard to breathe hard. Number One looked around the table and smiled. We are now back on schedule. Does anyone have anything else? The figure with the number twelve raised a tentative hand. Forgive me Number One, but there is a slight complication. Her eyes blazed as if daring the messenger to give her bad news. Number Twelve swallowed and then spoke. It would appear that the previous Number Seven has left a will behind, a will that the Ministry has now seen. What do you mean a will? Her eyes narrowed, riveting Number Twelve in place. It seems that Number Two was less than thorough in his completion of his task. A sneering chortle came from the mouth of Number Three. You should have consulted all of us before eliminating one of the Circle. Obviously, your confidence in your lapdog might have been misplaced. Number Two rose to his feet and drew his wand, his mouth in a deadly sneer. Sit down, Number Two. Number Ones voice hadnt raised an octave, but the cold steel in her voice drew her enraged minion down. Number One turned towards Number Twelve, who was trying to blend into the walls, away from the clash of wills at the other end of the table. You were saying, Number Twelve? Yes, apparently, Macnair, Number Seven, had written a confession to be seen in the event of his untimely death. The Aurors have been clued into our existence. They know of the Circle, but not of who is in the membership. Number Ones eyes drew narrow. This changes nothing. Number Ones voice carried across the table.

How can you say that, Number One? They were never supposed to know about us. Number Threes indignation was matched only by the opportunity he saw to take their leader do wn a peg. Macnair knew nothing. He didnt even know who we were nor did he know anything about Project Perseverance. If anything, this will work to our advantage. We know what they are going to do. They are still in the dark about us. Our spies in the Ministry are very well placed. Number One smiled an evil smile. Be that as it may, we are exposed in a way that is dangerous. The Aurors have a way of acting in a way that we can not predict. What if Harry Potter decides to work outside the normal chain, like he has been known to do? Number Three was enjoying seeing Number One squirm. He should be sitting in that seat. If they start getting too close, then we will deal with Mr. Potter directly and forcefully. No one, not even the great Harry Potter must be allowed to get in our way. We will drive the pestilence of the impure from our society once and for all. Our final solution will not be stopped. She stared at Number Three, daring him to speak. For his part, he remained quiet, but in his mind, he filed away the first visible chink in her armor. She was vulnerable and he saw an opening that if played right, he could exploit. In his mind, Number Ones days as leader of the faith were fast dwindling.

Chapter 123 Holiday Cheer Harry and Ginny casually strode through the open air mall not too far from their home at Grimmauld Place. Their fingers were interlocked as they took in the sights and sounds of another Christmas season together. Albus was snugly strapped to Ginnys back, warm in the baby carrier and by the light lolling of his head; his mother could easily tell that despite the lights and the sounds around them, her youngest son was sleeping. Harry was pushing a stroller in front of him, James, the exact opposite of his brother, sitting upright, agog at the sparkling displays the merchants had erected to draw the holiday crowds in. In the past, the Potters were content to stroll about Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley, but the tension permeating the wizarding community persuaded them to indulge in some muggle holiday shopping. Ginny, unencumbered by a stroller, was busily consulting a shopping list. Harry was decked out in jeans and hard leather work boots with a blue sweater underneath a frayed, comfortable wool pea coat. Ginny was also wearing jeans and a black sweater underneath leather bomber jacket which used to belong to her dad. Her hair danced around madly, a scarlet whirling dervish of madness that seemed to highlight the delicate lines of her face. Weve taken care of most of my family, but I dont know, for the life of me, what to get my dad. She sighed heavily, barely noticing the dressed up Santa figure ringing a bell beside a red pot. Youre joking, right? Harry gave her a sideways glance. Of all the peopl e who would appreciate muggle gifts, your dad is the one. You grew up with muggles, Harry. This is old hat to you. Im still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that we arent giving out magical gifts this year. She curled her bottom lip undernea th her top. Harrys heart skipped a beat. After all these years, every little nuance of her character stirred him. He smiled. Well, I cant say that I ever got to shop like this. My Christmas presents consisted of a hanger or a piece of tissue paper. He could laugh now, given how completely different his relationship was

with Dudley and his Aunt Petunia. A dark look overcame him briefly as his mind drifted to his Uncle Vernon. With a sigh, he pondered that two out of three wasnt bad. He continued. Still, if you want to go to Diagon Alley, we can. I just dont think we should bring the boys. You never know what kind of crazies are lurking about. She beamed at him and then raised herself up on her toes and placed a light kiss on his cheek. He blushed faintly and could swear he felt tingling warmth where her lips had met his skin. She stopped abruptly. Speaking of crazies. He followed her eyes and froze in his tracks. Just outside a tobacco shop, a couple was walking towards them pushing an ebony pram trimmed in silver. The man was tall and thin, with sallow skin and golden hair, combed back behind his skull. He was wearing a long wool overcoat over a finely tailored charcoal gray three piece suit with a green and silver tie. The woman was beautiful, with fine porcelain skin and platinum blonde hair. Her eyes were pale blue, like a cold mountain lake. She wore a long sable coat with a matching muff and she walked as if every approaching shopper was carrying a fatal disease, avoiding eye contact and potential skin contact with each. The man was wrapped up in staring at the baby in the covered pram while the woman seemed unaware of eithers existence. Their inattention caused them to not spot the Potters until they were face to face. Hello Draco. Harrys voice was low and even, not wanting to draw attention from passers by. Draco Malfoy looked up, startled by the chance meeting. A bleak look covered his black eyes and a loathsome sneer crossed his lips. Potter. They stood for a moment, enmity passing between them as a flood of memories rushed into their minds in a torrent mutual distrust. The long pause was awkward, noticeable. Ginny spoke up, reaching a hand out to the woman. Im Ginny Potter. You must be Domina Malfoy. The woman stared at the extended hand, a fight between propriety and abhorrence waging an endless battle in her mind. Hesitantly, she withdrew a slender hand from the muff and extended it to meet Ginnys greeting. Yes, Im Domina Malfoy. Her grip was light and she did not hold the handshake for more than a second. Her hands were cold while her fingernails were coated a dark russet, the color of blood. Ginny offered her a smile than turned towards Draco. Hello, Draco. I didnt know you had a son. Congratulations! Ginnys mind reflected back to the last time shed seen Draco Malfoy, when hed severed all ties with his father, when shed begged him to save himself from further heartache and to finally pursue happiness. Draco broke the intense stare he and Harry had been sharing and turned towards Ginny, his demeanor momentarily less dark. Yes, thank you, Ginny. Er, congratulations to you too. He acknowledged the two Potter children. The two couples stood for another awkward minute then Harry cleared his throat. I suppose wed better get going. Harry gave a nod to Domina and then offered Draco one last look. Draco. Draco didnt reply, instead he maneuvered the pram to side step the Potters. As they passed, Domina held Harrys eyes in a fierce gaze. You support your sister-in-law in her absurd changes in the law, I suppose. Her voice had a sing-song quality, like a siren, but also like a siren, seemed deadly.

Yes, thats about the size of it. Times are changing. Harry was flippant in his retort, daring her to challenge him. I will use everything in my power to stop you and that mudblood from destroying the natural order of things. Her derision of Hermione caused Ginny to ball up her fists. Harry placed a reassuring hand on his wifes arm. I dont doubt it. I will use everything in my power to stop you from doing anything you wish to try, and I do mean anything. Harry placed heavy emphasis on his warning, causing Domina to pause. The time of blood purity is past and the ramblings of a pathetic few wont stop the wheels of progress, I assure you. I wouldnt be so sure. Pure bloods have always ruled and will continue to rule. There is no room for the mongrelization of our race. She sneered at him. Funny, your sister didnt seem to have a problem with marrying a muggle. Ginny snorted. I have no sister. I guess youre right. Theres no way a wonderful woman like Beatrice is related to you. You are obviously adopted. Ginny prodded Harry along as a tinge of color flushed in Dominas cheeks, her eyes staring daggers at Ginnys back. *** The Burrow was a beehive of activity as the Weasley Christmas Party was in full swing. The entire extended Weasley clan decided to make their appearance at the bash. Burdened by his duties as the Minister of Magic, Arthur Weasley was unable to pick an appropriate theme for the party and had delegated that responsibility to George, Dudley and Lee, much to the chagrin of Molly. You know those three can not be trusted, Arthur. Theres no telling what theyre up to! Molly fretted mightily over what the three men were working on behind the large opaque tarpaulin that blocked access to the Weasley living room. For the past two days, one of the three would flip the tarp back and grab some food for the others and rush right back to work. Noises of all sorts could be heard along with not a few explosions. Dont fret, Molly dear, theyre all married now. Theres no doubt that the strong women in their lives have a firm hold on their rowdiness, just like you were for me. Arthur gave his wife a quick peck on the cheek and meandered out towards his shed. Molly stared over at a corner of the room and saw the worried faces of Verity, Sarah, and Beatrice, the strong women that Arthur had placed so much faith in. They were less than confident. The sound of breaking glass and a flurry of swearing emanated from behind the tarp. Molly gripped a dishrag tightly and shuffled back to her kitchen. Arthur strolled across the open courtyard and was greeted by the loud bang of a disapparation. Instinctively, he reached his hand into his coat, his fingers gripping the handle of his wand. He turned and spied Andromeda Tonks and her grandson Teddy standing near the front stoop. Dromeda! How are you? Arthur gave the regal woman a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek. Then he turned to the flaxen haired Teddy. How are you, young master Lupin? Hi, Uncle Arthur. Teddy allowed himself to forget that now that he was ten, he didnt have to hug grown ups, so he gave Arthur a big embrace. Youre not working on the Christmas Theme?

A trace of disappointment was in his voice. Arthur had been renowned for his attempts at introducing various Christmas themes like snowmen or train villages enhanced with magic. While the Minister of Magic thought people fancied his creativity, most, like Teddy, found immense hilarity in the results of these endeavors. No, Im afraid I havent had time to create a proper theme this year, Teddy. Teddys face got a little downcast. But, your Uncle George, Uncle Dudley and Uncle Lee have taken it upon themselves to create one for us. Really? Teddy Lupin was an exceedingly bright lad, capable of diving to the meaning of any argument. His brain was drifting through the calculus. The three greatest pranksters in the country, at least until he himself came of age, were working on what was traditionally the most humorous part of the year. The possibilities were tantalizing. Maybe I can help? Oh, I think well let them carry on by themselves. I was just heading out to the shed to make sure Harrys gift is ready. Would you like to come? The disappointment of not being able to watch the Weasleys Wheezes men wreak havoc dissipated immediately. Sure. Bye gran! Teddy took hold of Arthurs hand and the pair walked off in the direction of the shed. Andromeda shook her head and sighed, thankful for the number of surrogates that continued to exert a positive influence in young Teddys upbringing. From Harry to Arthur, George to Dudley, in their own ways, these men were committed to making sure Teddy wasnt alone. She walked into the foyer and was greeted the large tarp sealing off the main living room area. A loud crash echoed from behind the barrier followed by another stream of profanity as a pair of voices argued with each other. Perhaps, Andromeda thought to herself, she should reevaluate her opinion of George and Lee. *** The size of the party necessitated the use of the large orchard pavilion. This year, as their ranks swelled, two long tables, reminiscent of the House Tables at Hogwarts were needed to seat everyone comfortably. After Andromeda and Teddys arrival, the guests began to show up at regular intervals. Bill and Fleur popped in with Victoire, who was daintily dressed in a festive red dress with white fur trimmings and black patent leather shoes. Her long blonde hair was adorned with a white head band decorated with little sprigs of holly. Upon hearing of Teddys whereabouts, Victoire set off to find him, leaving her parents in the dust. Harry and Ginny arrived next, toting an armful of packages and the two Potter children. Albus had managed to remain asleep through the apparition while James began a pitiful plea to be released from the confines of his stroller. Harry unhitched him and set him down, James legs already moving before his feet hit the ground. James made an immediate bee line for the comfortable confines of the folds in Mollys dress. There was a brief honk outside the gate as a car pulled up and parked on the lane. Petunia Dursley put the vehicle in park and walked casually through the gate, waving a hand at Harry. Merry Christmas, Harry. She reached down and put her arms around him, squeezing him tight. Harry still felt a little uncomfortable with his aunts attention, but her efforts seemed sincere. Merry Christmas, Aunt Petunia. Wheres Uncle Vernon? You know, hes invited as well. It made Harrys stomach twist in knots to say those words, but he had to make the effort. He had to meet them half way. You know how he can be, Harry. Its his loss. Hello, Ginny dear. Petunia embraced Ginny warmly while her eyes roamed the scenery. Oh dear, theres that beautiful lit tle man! Come give your Aunt Toony a big hug, Jamesy!

Harry rolled his eyes while Ginny raised a hand to suppress a giggle. Still, it was nice to see his family becoming comfortable with who and what he had become. For his part, James absolutely adored the amount of attention Petunia gave him and sprinted into her arms. Holding him up, she turned back towards Harry. Wheres Dudders? Her face scanned the premises. Is he in the shed? Harry shook his head. He and his, er, um, partners are finis hing up the Christmas them. Beatrice is in the kitchen. Oh good, Ill head over there. In a flash, Petunia whisked James away, muttering nonsense to him. Does Jamesy want a cookie? Youll want to keep an eye on that nonsense. Harry turned, startled by Dudleys voice as his cousin had walked up to them, wearing dusty work clothes, soiled with sawdust and soot. Harry gave Dudley a questioning glance. Dont ask. I was just saying; make sure she doesnt spoil him with too many sweets. Look what happened to me. Dudley patted his once ample stomach. Years of hard work, dieting and the desire to impress his bride had allowed him to look leaner and healthier. Dudley gulped down a glass of water and the turned back to the house. Well, back to work. I cant stay out too long, George and Lee have a tendency to kill each other without adult supervision. Harry chuckled, wondering what the world had come to that Dudley Dursley was the voice of reason and a calming influence. Another series of honks, and a rather large sedan pulled up to the spot next to Petunias car. The doors opened to reveal Ron and Hermione, with baby Rose and Hermiones parents, Rose and Hugo, in tow. Hermiones father was the first through and shook Harrys hand firmly. Ron and Hermione were close behind and barely were able to greet their friends when Molly swooped in and stole baby Rose from their clutches. Cooing and clucking, Molly made for the kitchen. Not to be outdone, Rose Granger snuck a hand into the baby carrier holding Albus, who had just awoken, a pleasant smile on his face. Picking the baby up, she followed Molly towards the kitchen. Harry spied the anxious face of Andromeda Tonks in the door of the house. Seeing the babies being carried to the kitchen, Andromeda quickly turned around and went to meet them there. We dont have enough babies for the grandmothers. Harry chuckled. Oh no, Im just recovering from the last. Hermione and Ginny spoke out at the same time. Ron leaned into Harrys ear. Doesnt hurt to practice, I suspect. An open hand landed on the back of Rons head. I heard that Ron Weasley. Yes dear. Ron rubbed his head and watched as Hermione walked to chat with Ginny. *** Bill Weasley stood beneath the darkening sky, rubbing the array of scars about his face and neck. Are you all right, Uncle Bill? Teddy had wandered to where Victoires father was standing. Oh, Im fine, Teddy. I think Victoire is over by her mother. Bill smiled the younger boy, flipping his long pony tail to the side.

Thats okay, I was trying to take a break from her. I hope you dont mind. Bill chuckled at Teddys apology and smiled. Teddys gaze never wandered from the scars prominently displayed on Bills face. Uncle Bill, how did you get all those scars? I thought you worked at a bank. Bills face became wistful, a pained expression on his face. His mind flashed back to the night Albus Dumbledore was killed. Back when a throng of Death Eaters had penetrated Hogwarts security, which included a patrolling Bill Weasley and one of those Death Eaters, Fenrir Greyback, had hideously wounded him. Greyback was a werewolf, untransformed at the time, whod developed a taste for human flesh, even in human form. The cursed wounds we re constant reminders of how close hed come to dying that night. The pain still lingered, to this day. He never quite understood why Fleur didnt leave him, why his family never wrote him off. Doubt was a constant companion, highlighted by the visible scars he carried. I was bitten by a werewolf, Teddy. He wasnt transformed, but he left me these. Bill pointed to the scars. Was it Fenrir Greyback? Teddys question caught Bill by surprise. It was the last thing hed thought hed hear from the boys mouth. Well, yes, as a matter of fact, it was. How do you know that name, Teddy? Bill stared at the young man and saw a look of satisfaction bordering on awe on Teddys face. Well, Uncle Harry and Gran told me about him. Hes the werewolf that bit my dad when he was a boy. My dad was a werewolf, you know. My dad was a great man. Teddy was adamant in his conviction. Yes, your dad was certainly a great man, Teddy. Bill placed a hand on Teddys shoulder. You know what, Uncle Bill? Whats that Teddy? Bill watched as Teddys eyes caught his own with a powerful stare. You and my dad have something in common. You both were bit by Greyback and you both survived. I guess that means youre a pretty great man, yourself, dont you think? Bill felt his eyes watering a bit. For some compelling reason, he knelt down and wrapped his arms around Teddy, holding him tight. Thanks, Teddy. That means a lot to me. He released Teddy, who had a puzzled look on his face. Its the truth, isnt it? Anyway, Im glad youre feeling better. You are feeling better, arent you? Tons, Teddy, Tons. A high pitched squeal disrupted their moment. Victoire came speeding up to them, her long blonde hair trailing behind her like a pennant in the breeze. Teddy, come on! She paused a moment and looked at Bill. Oh, hi daddy. Her eyes went back to Teddy. Come on, theyre done with the Christmas Theme. Uncle George wants all the kids to come. Victoire pulled on Teddys hand, guiding him back towards the house. Without argument, Teddy followed, never really pulling his hand away from hers. As they approached the front door, Bill saw their silhouetted shadows against the light inside the house, the pair looked as if they were meant to walk hand in hand. Bill sighed. He never really believed in destiny or fate, but if there

was such a thing, he was witnessing it with the sight of his daughter and Teddy. In the final analysis, it seemed perfect. He chuckled to himself, mindful that he was already marrying off his seven year old daughter. He failed to realize that the anguish hed been feeling about his scars had disappeared, never to return again. *** Teddy and Victoire walked into the living room. The dark tarp had been pulled down and when they turned the corner, they were greeted by a wondrous scene. The living room had been transformed into an elves workshop, a bright red and white barbers pole protruded from the center of the room. The floor was covered in glistening white snow with packages strewn about. Next to the pole, there was a large throne, lined in red velvet. Here and there, toy airplanes whizzed about, while toy cars buzzed along the floor. Hand bells floated in the air, ringing in concert, piping out soft Christmas carols. The whole family had gathered to view the breathtaking scene. George stood with Lee, both dressed in green and red felt, cut to look like elves costumes. They both had streaks of soot and sawdust and leather tool belts around their waists. They carefully soaked in the oohs and ahs of the onlookers, smiling at their handiwork. While we know the adults appreciate the scene, George shouted, Wed like to have the kids step right up. Teddy? Teddy took a step forward, then stopped. Victoire should go first. Scared? George teased. No, but ladies first. Its proper. Teddy gave a quick glance at his grandmother, who was nodding sagely. Quite right. Lee interjected. He offered his hand to Victoire, who was smiling at Teddys gesture. Lee led the little girl to the chair and looked around. Were missing something. Wherever could it be? A puff of smoke emanated from the fireplace. Ah, there it is. Lee called. From behind a stack of presents that screened the fireplace, a large red suited man with long white whiskers and round belly appeared, toting a large sack. Santa Claus! Teddy and Victoire screamed in unison. Dan Koz! James was clapping madly. Ho ho ho! I hear we have some good little children! Why dont we hear from them? Santa made his way to the chair and sat down slowly. He opened his arms wide, inviting Victoire to sit on his lap. Victoire held her head regally and carefully sat down. With a smile, she began her interview with the jolly old man. Standing off to the side, Harry held Ginny, smiling as the kids went through the line. He leaned down and kissed her gently on the back of the neck. Dudley is doing a smashing job as Santa, dont you think? Ginny purred at the attention and nodded her head. She turned to face her husband. I think they all did a wonderful job. Look at all the detail.

When Santa had gone through all the children and the grandmothers as well, he stood and waved his hand, yelling a cheerful Merry Christmas to those assembled. Ron came up to Harry, as they watched Santa whispering to George near the fireplace. Ron whispered, Dudley out did himself. The kids look extremely happy. A voice interjected from behind them. What did I do? They whirled around and stared incredulously at Dudley, who was framed in the front door. D-dudley! Harry could barely get the words out. What are you doing here? Whos that then? They turned and watched as the not-Dudley Santa patted Georges shoulder and then laid his finger aside his nose and disappeared into the chimney, but nowhere in the manner that theyd deem normal when using the floo. Oh good. Dudley smirked. Georges owl got to the North Pole. Harry and Ron stared incredulously. But, we thought, well, we assumed that youbut, how? Ron was struggling to find the words. Harry, for his part, was dumb with shock. Oh, come on, Harry. By the way, Ive got your present outside. You of all people should know the answer. What do you mean, Dudley? Harry watched as his tall cousins face broke into a wide grin. Its magic! Dudley laughed heartily, and walked in to join the rest of the party.

Chapter 124 Son of a Death Eater The Christmas was one that would be defined by the visit from St. Nick. Normally, the Potters would take the time off between Christmas and New Years, but the knowledge that they had very little on the Circle was plaguing him, so he found himself wandering into the Office during the holidays. He had a nagging feeling that information was leaking from the Ministry, perhaps from his own Office. His discrete investigation into the Malfoys had not yielded the results hed anticipated, so he found himself back at square one. Hed confided only in Dawlish, Lachlan, Ron and Sarah as to the line of communication hed had with Viktor Krum. Still, that channel had remained ominously silent for the past few weeks. He had an open line to Volkov, but the new Puddlemere United Beater was as in the dark as Harry was as to what was happening in Bulgaria. The new intelligence apparatus opened by Elphias Doge wasnt yielding much either. True, the International Confederation of Wizards was becoming increasingly belligerent to non-pure bloods, but at the same time, it was more rhetoric, than real legislation. For now, the combined delegations of Britain, Australia and the United States had managed to ward off any real attempt to make meaningful changes to international law, but they were becoming an increasingly smaller minority. Harry sat for a few hours, re-reading Macnairs will. His words had opened more mysteries than were being answered. Harry rubbed his forehead, trying to see what hed missed, but nothing was coming forward. With a sigh, Harry slammed the diary shut and locked it in the safe in his office. He rose and walked out onto the floor of the Office. Savages team had the holiday watch, but most of his team was out on calls, including Savage himself. Harry lifted a small clipboard off a hook and flipped through the daily reports. Most dealt with disturbances related to more of the

pureblood violence. The red patch crew seemed to be focusing on the Exeter area, creating a pureblood zone, yet the incidents were stretching more and more into exclusively wizarding communities. His eyes stopped at a report of vandalism at Flourish and Blotts. Someone had caused masonry to slam through the plate glass windows of the bookstore, and then scrawled Mudbloods go home! in bright red letters of light. Harry felt a brief rush of adrenaline, as he remembered that Beatrice worked at Flourish and Blotts. Grabbing his cloak, he rushed out of the Office and made for the lifts. *** Harry arrived outside the Leaky Cauldron and entered the ubiquitous pub in a rush. Harry! Hello there! Harry looked over at the sound of the voice and spotted Hannah Abbott behind the bar. He smiled, for a brief moment, he remembered her bright blonde pigtails from school. The Hannah in front of him was older, her hair toned down to a light brown and was long, held together by a black head band. Hello Hannah, how are things? He paused to talk to her. Strange, did you hear what happened down at Flourish and Blotts? She was leaning over the bar. Yeah, Im heading there now. You see any one strange come through? No, just the usual post Christmas crowd. Anyway, I hope you catch whoever did it. She resumed rubbing the surface of the bar with her rag. Well do our best. Anyway, Id better be off. See you Hannah! Harry turned to leave. Harry? He paused and turned to face her again. Are we still doing the annual New Years party? Hannah had not been to the last couple of parties. Sure, as always, are you coming? Harry was getting a little anxious, feeling the need to move on. I think so. Hannah seemed a little distracted. Great, well, Ill see you Hannah. Harry turned to leave again. Harry? Harry sighed and turned again. Yes, Hannah? Look, I really have to go. He was starting to get a trifle e xasperated. Hannah, for her part, did not seem to notice his shortness. Well, do you think Neville will be there? I assume so, he always goes. Harrys brain was working overtime. Was Hannah interested in Neville? That would be wonderful. Then, Ill be there. Good luck, Harry. She turned back to wiping some glasses, a dreamy expression on her face. Harry mumbled a good bye and resolved to talk to Ginny about this.

Should he tell Neville? Ginny would know, considering Harry had the experience of a toadstool in matters of being a matchmaker. He smiled to himself and head for the Alley. *** Harry walked down to the bookstore and found the damage had been mostly repaired. A couple of Aurors were interviewing witnesses. Harry spotted the team leader, Savage, staring at the spot where the words of hate were suspended in the air. Savage looked up and saw Harrys approach. Oh, hello Harry. Rancid stuff, eh? Savage was a tall man with short, black hair with flecks of gray sprinkled through out. He stood at his full height and pointed to the words. Well be able to take this down in a second, but as of yet, no one saw anything. Savage spoke the last words with a bit of bitterness. As usual. Still, anyone hurt? Harrys mind was back to Beatrice. No, the staff was out to lunch, so no one was in the path of the rocks when they broke the glass. Harry nodded and looked around. Savage leaned in closer, dropping his voice. Are we any closer to finding this Circle? Things are getting a little strange. Savages eyes were scanning the area, looking for eavesdroppers. No, not really. Nothing more than was in the will. Were still looking at Macnairs last known associates. It looks promising, but its slow going. Harry kept his voice down so that only Savage could hear him. Well, were about done here, anything you want me to do to help? Savage closed his notebook and nodded for one of his Aurors to dispose of the floating letters. Ive got Lachlans team following up on the Macnair lead, but Ill let you know. Well get the leadership together after the first of the year and go over what weve got. Thanks, Harry. Why dont you go home? Youre supposed to be on vacation. Savage offered Harry pat on the back, while Harry shook his head. I suppose. Well since Im here, I might as well go look in on Weasleys Wheezes. Harry shook Savages hand and walked off towards Ninety Three Diagon Alley. As he walked, Harry had the strange feeling that he was being followed, the wisp of a breeze brushing past him or the echo of footsteps, he really couldnt place it. The hairs on the back of his neck were raised, so with a flick of his wrist, his wand slipped down from the sheath in the sleeve of his robe into his hand. Keeping the wand at his side, he turned down an alley that would ostensibly take him to the rear door of Georges shop. As he neared the door, Harry whipped around and raised his wand. Homenum revelio! A shaft of bright orange light swept the alley area, seemingly bouncing off a reflective surface in the form of a man. Slowly, the form resolved itself until it formed the solid shape of the man following him. The man seemed surprised hed been discovered. Harry stood in shock as he recognized the person standing in front of him. Hello, Harry. Its been a long time.

Dont move a muscle, Theodore. Harrys voice was menacing, his wand steadily pointed at the face of Theodore Nott. Nott raised his arms. Im not here to attack you. Im here to help. Is there somewhere we can talk? Harry didnt move. What do you mean? If youll just stop pointing that at me, Ill explain. You want to know about The Circle or not? Harry stood dumbfounded as he slowly lowered his wand.

*** The dining room was massive, beyond description. A large, rectangular table sat underneath an impressive crystal chandelier. Number One strode into the room and walked effortlessly towards the end of the table where a man dressed in an identical red robe and white theatre mask stood. As she approached him, he bowed slightly at the waist. She nodded to him and beckoned him to join her in a couple of chairs at the end of the dining table. So, Number Twelve, what do you have to report? Number Twelve looked at his leader and nodded. The Aurors have not been able to get anywhere with their Macnair investigation. They do not anticipate even discussing it until after the New Year. Still, they continue to question Macnairs old acquaintances, hoping to f ind something on him. What does that mean for us? Number One contemplated the Aurors inactivity. Did Potter suspect that he had a leak? Macnairs will was nebulous at best, and really didnt specify that she had a turncoat in the Office of Aurors. For the most part, nothing, but Macnair was sloppy. He was not known to be too tight lipped, especially around his drinking buddies. You never know what that fool leaked out. Number Twelves voice was clipped. You can be very paranoid, Number Twelve. The exposed mouth beneath the mask smiled a beautiful smile. Im supposed to be paranoid. The cause is too important. Number Twelve grimaced. Yes, I suppose youre right. She reached inside her robes and withdrew a small bell. She rang the bell. After a moment, the tall, menacing figure of Number Two approached from a side door. Number Two, we have some clean up to do. The Aurors are questioning many of our dear departed Walden Macnairs close associates, however many of those existed. Sh e turned to the man seated next to her. Do you know who they are talking to? Number Twelve pulled out a sheet of parchment and handed it to Number One. Ah good. Here is the list, Number Two. Please make sure none of them are alive to discuss whatever Macnair may have told them, please. A wicked, evil grin came across Number Twos face. He grasped the sheet and walked out of the room.

That should take care of that loose end. Is there anything else, Number Twelve? Her voice was pleasant, yet threatening. Number Twelve shuddered, but resolved himself to deliver his next report. Well, yes. How do you know that you can trust Number Three? He was direct. He could see her eyes narrowing through the slits in her mask. Are you questioning the loyalty of a member of the Circle? Although her tone was conversational, almost light, he detected a note of menace. No, but I am questioning the man behind the mask. Ive worked for him before and he can not stand not being in charge. Thats his nature. Number Twelve crossed his arms, looking for a response. Number Ones tone grew cold. The secrecy of the identities of this membership is closely guarded, Number Twelve. You have no need to know who the parties are, do you? Be that as it may, I know who Number Three is and Im telling you that he can not be trusted. Number Twelve sat straighter, choosing to defend his position then wilt in the face of her intimidation. Number One loathed weakness. It does not matter. His participation is crucial to our long term success. We need not worry about Number Three. Number Twelve nodded, finally relenting to her authority. He rose, and bowed once more, and turned to leave. Oh, and Number Twelve? Remember, I alone know everyones identity. You know one or two members. I also know who has family and where those families are hidden. Never violate the secrecy of The Circle again. Do you understand me, Mr. Savage? Savage cinched up his crimson robe, the embroidered number twelve on his sleeve straightening out. Yes, Number One. He turned and exited, leaving her behind him. *** Harry lowered his wand and reached his hand for the handle on the door behind him, not really taking his eyes off of Theodore Nott. He opened the door and gestured for Nott to follow him and pointed to a table in the center of the room. Oh, hello Harry! Verity Weasley was sitting at a desk in the corner, going through several stacks of invoices. George and Lee are in Hogsmeade. Is there something I ca n help you with? Oh, whos that? Harry turned to the pretty blonde and smiled. Hes an old school mate of mine. Verity, can you give us a few minutes? Id like to catch up on some old times. Verity took in the fact that Harry had his wand out and that its tip had never left the man seated at the table. She nodded pleasantly. Alright, Harry, take all the time you need. I suspect Ron might be dropping by in a little while. He wanted to pick up some of the new whiz bangs for New Years. Is that all right? Harry smiled. Ron wasnt coming by, but Verity was offering to contact him. Sure, Verity. Im sure hed love to join in. Send him back when he gets here, please. She nodded and went out into the main store. Harry sat across from Nott. Hed aged somewhat from the last time Harry had seen him on his last day at Hogwarts. Theodore Nott was a walking contradiction. He was the son of a Death

Eater, but never vocalized any pride in the fact, like Crabbe, Goyle or Malfoy had. He was a Slytherin, yet Harry had never seen him acting the sycophant in Malfoys circle of bullies. In fact, throughout most of the time Harry had known Nott in school, hed known him to be a loner, separated from the rest of the Slytherins. Well, Nott. Im here. What is it you wanted to tell me that made you sneak about and not come in to the office? Harry carefully kept his wand out, at his side. Nott grimaced and looked balefully at the door. Listen, Harry. You dont have any reason to trust me. I dont blame you, but you have to have noticed whats been going on. All the pureblood reaction thats been happening the past few months is getting worse. As for your office, I dont know how secure it is there. Lets say that Ive noticed this. Lets say the real reason that you are in here is because you said you know something about The Circle. What have you got to say? Nott sighed and allowed his shoulders to slump. I know about The Circle because they tried to recruit me. Harry leaned forward, prompting to continue. Gregory Goyle came to me a couple of weeks ago. He said that hed just been taken on to replace Walden Macnair in a project. You remember Macnair, dont you? He was good friends with my dad. Anyway, Goyle was going about recruiting toughs and ruffians to roust out halfbloods and muggle-borns. Harry sat back. In the past thirty seconds, hed gotten more information on The Circle than he could have hoped for. I told Goyle I wasnt interested in the job. I had to take care of some pressing business related to getting my dad out of Azkeban. He seemed to buy that. After all, my dad was a Death Eater, wasnt he? This last came out bitter, hateful, as if saying the word was abhorrent to Nott. Harry sat for a moment. What job did they want you to do? Was it to help Goyle? Nott shook out of his stupor. No, they wanted me to find something called the Chillingham Staff. Whats it do? Harry had never heard of it. I dont quite know. Goyle isnt very bright to begin with. All he said was that it had something to do with cows. Cows? Harry was definitely perplexed. Why would The Circle concern themselves with cows? Thats what he said. Anyway, I didnt get too many details, because I wasnt interested, right? Nott sat still, seemingly relieved at releasing his burden. Why? Harry glanced at Nott carefully, trying to read his face. What do you mean? Nott couldnt raise his eyes at Harry. Why are you doing this, Theodore? That was the question, wasnt it? Nott looked down at his feet, his mind racing. I suppose its because I never really bought into all that pure-blood nonsense. If blood purity was such a righteous cause, how come you were able to defeat the Dark Lord twice, you being a half-blood? Voldemort was a half-blood, too. His father was a muggle. Harry stated firmly.

Nott seemed genuinely surprised. Really? So much the better, then. He was a hypocrite to boot. Nott seemed to stare out the window. Plus, my father, what kind of legacy did he leave me anyway? He was a Death Eater, the lowest of the low, preying upon weak for the sake of power. This Circle is nothing more than one more manifestation of the powerful preying on the weak. Now, because of what he was, Im suspected, Im shunned. I can barely live my life, all because he wanted a seat at Voldemorts table. Harry stared at Nott closely. Thats all well and good, Theodore, but not enough for you to risk your life. Why? Nott sighed and looked at the ground. His lips trembled a bit and his eyes began to well up. If you must know, Harry, Im married to a muggle. Nott exhaled and gave Harry a desperate stare. I love her, you know? She doesnt judge me for who my father was. She accepts me for who I am. This Circle wants to eliminate muggles and the muggle-born. What happens when we have children, Harry? What will I do then? Im doing this for her and for them. Harry nodded slowly. It made sense. What will you do now? Im taking them into hiding until you do what you have to do. I think well go to America. They dont seem to place great stake on your lineage there. Nott rose and Harry did not stop him. I hope you stop them, Harry. I truly do. You know, being Slytherin, it was a curse, really. I hear its changed now, I hope so. There were good people in my year and in my House, if you had looked for it. I fought at Hogwarts. I stood with the rest, but no one will believe that. People can change, Harry. You know, Malfoys changed. I dont believe that. His wife, do you think shes part of all this? Harry snorted at the notion. Perhaps, but I dont think so. Domina is a lot worse than The Circle, I suspect. Nott chuckled. In what way? Harry asked. In the worst way, Im afraid. The Circle is about power disguised in blood purity rhetoric. I suspect that a few mixed-bloods are involved there. Domina, however, is far different. Nott turned to leave, nodding as Ron entered the store room, wand at the ready. Domina is a true believer. Shes actually believes all that rot. Nott gave them a wave and walked out the back door. Chapter 125 Preparations

Kreacher manipulated another chair to a position alongside the others inside the front sitting room of the Potters home at 12 Grimmauld Place. Busily fretting over the arrangements, the house -elf muttered to himself and cast a wary glance at the grandfather clock standing in the front foyer. Finally satisfied with the layout of the room, Kreacher walked into the kitchen to find Harry sitting at the kitchen table, busily scribbling into a spiral ringed notebook. All is ready, Master Harry. Will there be anything else? Kreacher flicked an imaginary dust mote off the edge of the table. No, I think that will be it. Are you sure you dont mind taking the boys over to the Burrow, Kreacher? Harry shut his notebook and collected up his quill and inkwell.

The former Black family and now Potter family house elf gave Harry a deeply offended stare. Kreacher does not understand why after all this time; Master Harry does not trust Kreacher with the care of his children. I must punish myself. Harry stood up rapidly, and yelled before Kreacher could begin slamming his head on the pristine surface of the table. No! I trust you, Kreacher, I just didnt want to burden you with the kids, if you had something else you wanted to do. Kreacher gave Harry a solemn stare. Master Harry, despite all the years Kreacher has faithfully served you, do you not understand? The care and security of my Masters children is the highest honor a family can bestow on a house elf. There is nothing in this world, even serving you and Mistress Ginny that I would prefer doing. Kreachers heart aches when he is not tending to the needs of Master James and Master Albus. Please, do not think it is a burden. Im sorry, Kreacher. It will not happen again. Of course I trust you with my children. I can think of no one else I would rather have watch over them. Harry placed a careful hand on Kreachers shoulder. At that moment, a knock came on the front door. It looks like our guests are arriving, youd better go. Kreacher bowed and disappeared in a flash, heading off to bundle up the Potter children and take them to the Burrow. Harry walked to the front door and opened it. Outside, John Dawlish and Elizabeth Cavendish were standing in the bitter cold, their arms wrapped tightly around each other. Ushering them in, Harry took their jackets and guided them into the sitting room, which had been rearranged to accommodate the meeting. Are we late? Dawlish accepted the hot cup of coffee that Harry poured for him. No, you two are the first. Harry offered Cavendish a piping hot cup of tea. Whats this all about, Harry? Cavendish walked over by the fireplace to absorb the heat from the flame in the hearth. Id rather wait until everyone is here, Elizabeth. The door bell rang out in the hall. Please, help yourself to some refreshments. In almost rapid fire succession, the invitees to Harrys meeting began to arrive until the sitting room was full of curious people. Harry gracefully avoided any discussion of why hed brought them together. In addition to Dawlish and Cavendish, Williamson and his team, Manchester, Leonora, Sarah and Silas had arrived. Joining them from the Office of Aurors were Lachlan McCrory, Mortimer Gafney and Ron, whod also brought Hermione along. Last to arrive were Dean Thomas and Isabella Ramirez, who was sporting an oversized diamond ring on her left hand, much to the delight of Hermione and Sarah. Thats wonderful, Isabella. Its about time he asked you. Hermione looked around for Ginny who hadnt made an appearance. Im sure he wanted to earlier, but I was not ready. When I was, I told him that he could go ahead and ask. Isabella practically gushed at the prospect, while maintaining her demeanor of being a woman in charge. While the assembled guests were sharing their holiday stories, the front door opened once more, and Ginny Potter walked in. She gave Harry a brief nod and joined her friends in congratulating Isabella. Harry looked around and took stock of the situation. He no longer thought he could

trust the apparatus at the Ministry. In fact, he was sure that his own Office was compromised. This room held all the people he thought that he could trust. The situation was becoming serious and he needed to take action. Today would be the first concrete attempt at such action. He closed the sitting room doors, signaling his intent to start. I know its New Years Eve and you all have taken time from your families to be here, but I think its time to fill you in on what Ive been able to find about this Circle. I have no doubt that The Circle has infiltrated the ranks of the Ministry, including the Office of the Aurors. Gasps went through the room. Williamson spoke up. What do you mean, Harry? You cant be serious. You and John chose most of us. What proof do you have? Most of you, Eric, but not all and the pure-blood issue is deep seated. We just dont know how deeply the changes in the law impact people. As far as proof? Lachlan? Harry turned to Lachlan, who stood. As you all know, my team was following up on interviewing all of Walden Macnairs known associates. About two days ago, those associates started turning up dead, including the ones we hadnt talked to. More troubling, those people were being murdered in the order we had them on our interview list, a list I might add, that was only available to the Office of Aurors. Lachlan took in the shocked looks on their faces. Murdered? Why didnt the taboo on the Unforgiveables warn us? Cavendishs voice was shaky, afraid that someone had been able to get around a taboo, one of th e Ministrys most powerful counter-jinxes. Lachlan sighed. Thats the most serious part of this, Elizabeth. No one outside the Department of Magical Law Enforcement knows that we have instituted the taboo, yet the victims were not killed by an Unforgiveable. They were stunned or petrified then stabbed to death by hand. Our adversary knows to not use an Unforgiveable. Dawlish began to run his fingers through his salt and pepper hair. That knowledge can only come from within the Ministry, for sure. What else have you got, Harry? Harry thanked Lachlan and then proceeded to brief them on his encounter with Viktor Krum and with Theodore Nott. The more pieces of the puzzle he gave them, the bigger the gaps in what they knew were exposed. Still, there was enough there to indicate that something dark is lurking. Harry summed up what he told them. The Circle is the key. Were not talking more than a dozen or so members led by a woman. Its not just former Death Eaters, Im afraid. Were sure that someone from the Office is involved and I wouldnt put below them to have members of other groups like the Order of the Phoenix. Ron spoke up. What about the D.A.? Im afraid we cant even trust the D.A., Ron. Right now, the people in this ro om are the only people I can trust. Besides, we need to gather more facts and you are the ones that can do that. Harry gave each one a reassuring stare. So, what do you propose, Harry? What do you want us to do? Dawlish leaned forward, waiting for Harrys plan. Well, Goyle is the key. We need to get a feel for what hes up to. Thatll be your teams job, Williamson. We cant let him know that were on to him, but hes the first concrete member we know of, so you need to find a way to get close to him, see if he leads you to another member. Williamson nodded.

Harry turned to Hermione, Isabella and Dean. Hermione, I need you, Isabella and Dean to find out what this Chillingham Staff is. Harry voice grew serious. Youre only to do rese arch, do not take any action. Lachlan and Cavendish will be your support, but no field work, understand? Hermiones face became flushed and Ron shook his head, realizing that Mount Hermione was about to erupt when Harry told her she couldnt do something. Harry realized the same thing and lowered his voice. No, Hermione. Listen, you are a lightening rod. Truth or not, these people are focused on your changes to the law as the catalyst for their actions. You are a priority target for them and we dont have the manpower to protect you if you decide to go gallivanting across the country side. Hermiones objection died in her throat. Her thoughts drifted to Rose, her daughter, and she realized Harry was right. Ron broke the awkward silence. Harry, have you heard from Krum since he talked to you? Funny you should ask, Ginny? Harry turned to his wife. Krum had planted an agent with the Puddlemere United, the Beater, Volkov. As a Quidditch correspondent, Ginny Potter had access to the teams. This morning, under the guise of interviewing Oliver Wood, shed managed to exchange a few words with Volkov. She stood to deliver her report. Well, Viktor says that there fourteen members of The Circle. Four are from the Continent and he managed to get three names. Eva Von Blut, from Germany, Dmitri Kerelenko from Bulgaria and Tomasso Beniti from Italy. Ginny looked up from her notes. Who are they? Ron looked around. Ginny looked back down at the paper in her hand. Von Blut is a healer, from the Magical Maladies Institute in Bonn. Kerelenko is the Chief Enforcer for the Bulgarian Ministry of Magic, and Beniti is a wizarding bounty hunter, believe it or not. Howd Viktor get this? Whether it was old jealousy coming to the surface or not, Rons question was valid. Viktor has one of his people in the Enforcers Office. Theyve been concentrating their efforts on following him. They met together in Paris last week, apparently on their way to England. Ginny looked up from her notes and glanced back at Harry. The room was silent for a minute. Harry looked over at Mortimer, who was standing near Ron. The most junior person in the room seemed to have a question on the tip of his tongue, but was holding back as he looked at the array of wizards he was with. Harry smiled. You have something, Mortimer? The small man gave a shrug, still unsure of whether it was his place. Go on, youre here because you have something to contribute. Whats on your mind? Well, um, I was thinking. He swallowed hard and then proceeded. It seems to me since were short handed that we need to prioritize the leads. Sounds reasonable, how would you prioritize what we know so far? Harry was sounding like a kind professor leading one of his pupils through a particularly difficult lesson. Well, Goyle seems a good place to start and finding out what this Staff is and why the Circle wants it is important. Im thinking about the names we just heard, the ones Mr. Krum sent you.

Mortimers brain was working overdrive, as if he were putting together the complex ingredients of a potion. Those are all good points, Mortimer. Of the three, which is the one we should concentrate on? Harry had a bemused look on his face. Mortimer, despite his age, was an exceptional intellect. He reminded Harry of Miles Jackson-Smythe, the former counselor to the Ministry who had an affectation for Sherlock Holmes, both in dress and in deductive reasoning. Mortimers brow furrowed, lost deep in thought. Well, Harry. We can make a couple of assumptions, based on what we know is their goal. Kerelenkos role is rather obvious. Hes basically your counterpart in their Ministry of Magic. In order to exert any real power, theyd need someone in that position. Beniti is also pretty standard fare. Hes a bounty hunter, capable of tracking down hard to find items or people. Given what we know from Nott, the Circle is very high on finding this Chillingham Staff, so Beniti also makes sense. He paused and adjusted his robes. The one that doesnt fit in all this is the healer, Von Blut. Why would the Circle need a healer? How does having a healer help them achieve their goal? The wizards in the room grew silent once more, chewing on Mortimers questions. Ron shuf fled a bit in his chair. Finally he spoke up. I think we need to look into Von Blut as well. For all the reasons that Morty talked about and well, for one other. Whats that? Hermione looked at her husband carefully, expecting a flippant remark. Ron smiled at his wife in triumph, having figured something out before she did. Well, in German, Blut means blood. That cant be a good thing. How did you figure that out? Hermione demanded. Ron smirked. Always the tone of surprise. Ron rose from his chair and planted a brief kiss on his astonished wifes cheek and sat back down. As he returned to his seat, Harry watched as he secretly handed a small book back to his trainee, Mortimer. Harry got a brief glimpse at the cover, which stated clea rly, German to English Translations. Glancing over at Hermione, who was still dumbfounded at Rons revelation, Harry knew then that pairing Ron with Mortimer had been the right choice, apparently more so for Ron then Mortimer, in this case.

*** What are you saying, Number Twelve? Number One had her fingers twisted around an ornate goblet, her voice was dripping with anger. Im saying, Number One, that Potter suspects that he has a leak in his Office. Savages pulse raced, every meeting, it seemed, he was falling more and more out of favor. Do you have proof of this? Did he tell you specifically? Number Three raised the question, much to the chagrin of Number One, who did not comment on the interruption. No, not specifically, Number Three, but he has begun to compartmentalize information. Savage sat forward, his elbows on the table. Look, when Potter is fully engaged, hes like a hound on a scent, relentless, innovative, he thinks outside the box. Yes, yes, we all know about the great and powerful Harry Potter. The comment came from Number Ten, whose mouth was twisted into a sneer.

Im not talking about that. What Im saying is that when hes running a full investigation, he leaves no stone unturned, but with this, with us, h es just going through the motions. Hes not offering advice or turning the screws. Hes just, well, there. Savage sat back, catching a glimpse of Number One with her hands in front of her mouth, thinking on his words. Maybe hes stumped and doesnt know what to do. He never was one to take advice from better men. The man known as Number Thirteen grumbled. I wouldnt be one to underestimate him; he always seems to get out it. The voice was meek. The woman known as Number Fourteen was not usually one who interjected at these meetings, but she had seen firsthand what Potter could do. Youre right, Number Fourteen. We would do well to not underestimate Potter. Number Ones voice quieted the discussion around the table. You make reasonable assumptions, Number Twelve. As youve said, your job is to be paranoid and I think your assumptions are correct. If Potter suspects that he can not trust his normal team, what is he inclined to do? Savage spoke up quickly, In the past, hes formed an ad hoc group of people he trusts. Theyre usually drawn from his family and friends, and if necessary from the members of the Order of the Phoenix or from his school group, Dumbledores Army. Precisely. Although tracking his family will be difficult, I believe we are sufficiently large enough for him to go to the Order or this Dumbledores Army. Number One saw the nods around the table. Fortunately, we have members from both organizations here in this Circle. There were gasps from a good number of the members around the table. Number One luxuriated in their surprise. She continued, Number Four is a member in good standing of the Order of the Phoenix. So much so, that he will know first off if they are contacted for assistance. The man known as Number Four remained quiet, acknowledging Number One with a bow of his head. Number Ten is an alumnus of Dumbledores Army. I believe you have a great party planned for this evening? Number One stared down Number Ten. That is true, Number One, but I have not attended for some time. I have not had many dealings with the D.A. in quite a while. Number Tens voice was tentative. They are forgiving to a fault, Number Ten! Number Ones voice was dripping with sarcasm and disdain. They will welcome you back with open arms and you will ingratiate yourself into their good graces. Number Ten bowed in deference to Number Ones authority. Number One looked back around the table. Number Eight? Number Five is an accomplished healer. She should be able to help you with the next phase of Project Perseverance. Do you require anything else? Number Eight was noticeably older, even under his disguise. He fixed the collar on his robe and turned to Number One. We are very near being ready, Number One. He spoke in a distinct German accent. We are close to the point where we will need the Staff. Very good, Number Eight. Number One looked over to another portion of the table. Number Nine, you are responsible for finding the staff. Number Eleven is an accomplished bounty hunter. You may also use Numbers Thirteen and Fourteen to assist you. Im afraid that means that you will have to reveal yourselves to each other, at the necessary moment.

It will be done, Number One, you can bet on it. Number Eight had a confident smile and nodded to Thirteen and Fourteen. Number Seven, how is the outreach. Number One glanced at Goyle, who fidgeted under the glare of her gaze. Welp, um, I mean, Well, Number One, Ive managed to put a collar on the gangs that are bein too obvious. Weve started trainin them for combat. Youll have the beginin of a pretty decent army when youre ready. Goyle was perspiring, uncomfortable in the spotlight. Very good, Number Seven. Remember, no mistakes. Your position is the one most exposed to the outside. I would hate for you to be remembered like your predecessor. Number Seven, Gregory Goyle, swallowed hard and slumped back into his seat. That concludes the meeting. You all have your assignments. She stood, the hulking presence of Number Two right behind her shoulder. Oh, and Happy New Year! Her voice, though pleasant, sent a chill down their spines. This is the year where everything we work for comes to be. This is the year of the blood. She raised her goblet, and waited for the group to join her. To the Year of the Blood! She toasted. The room rang out in their response. To the Year of the Blood.

Chapter 126 The New Years Ship Sails The winter snows came early to Hogwarts, covering the ancient castle in a blanket of natural wonder. Harry and Ginny disapparated just outside the gates and clasped hands tightly, taking in the natural beauty. The sun had set and a clear, crisp black sky was dotted with a myriad of stars twinkling in welcome. In the distance, Hagrids cabin nestled in the drifts, warmly lit, small tendrils of smoke emanating from the brick chimney. The sounds of their footsteps on the shoveled walk echoed into the evening as the couple made their way to the massive front doors of the citadel. I should have asked you out earlier. Harrys voice, though not raised, rebounded in the still night. Whats that? Ginny looked over to her husband, her eyes locking in on his profile. I was just thinking that I should have asked you out earlier. I sometimes think that my life here would have been a thousand times better if I could have shared it with you. Harrys brain wandered back. If hed asked Ginny out in his fourth year, or his fifth year, it would have been an amazing experience. Water under the bridge, Harry, especially considering you have me for the rest of our lives. She giggled a bit and squeezed his hand tighter. He paused and turned to face her, his hands on her shoulders. I was so jealous, you know, when you came to the Yule Ball with Neville. At first, I thought it was all about Cho, but I saw you and I felt something, I felt it should have been me. He smiled and took in her beauty. She was wearing a long, wool overcoat, covering a tea length cocktail dress. She allowed the wildness of her russet hair to flow free, held in check by a glittering silver pin.

The cold of the night had turned her cheeks rosy and her nose had a faint hint of color. Her brown eyes were wide, dancing with amusement as they were whenever he was trying to be serious with her. She smiled and he felt his heart race, a lump in his throat. The merriment in her eyes grew fierce as she locked gazes with his emerald orbs. She snickered. Good. He laughed and reached down and kissed her, their lips meeting amidst the vapor of their hot breath against the bitter cold night. When their lips met, she reached a hand up into the unruly bramble of his hair and pulled him tight into her. Their bodies meshed perfectly, like the pieces of an intricate jigsaw puzzle and despite the chill, he felt warm all over and for that one perfect moment, he completely forgot the mantle of responsibility he bore for this world. When they parted, she shivered. Come on, Harry, theyll be waiting for us, besides, Im freezing. He reached down and took her hand and led her into the massive maw of the schools gate. *** The D.A. New Years gala had grown wildly. At first, it was a handful of couples gathering together out of nostalgia. Now, it incorporated all the groups that had lent blood and toil to fighting evil wherever it could be found. The D.A. members whod heretofore avoided coming were in full attendance as were the surviving members of the Order of the Phoenix. Eventually, invitations were extended to those whod survived the Battle of Hogwarts, which allowed for the penultimate party planner to be added to the roster. Professor Horace Slughorn, Headmaster of Hogwarts, was the ideal person to plan and implement the event. This year, based on their incredible sacrifice and valor, a new group was added to the guest list, the crew and family of the Discooperire. Slughorn was beside himself with the possibilities. When he configured the Room of Requirement for the party, he was beside himself with the theme. He interviewed as many attendees as he could find, including members of the Discooperires crew. After a particularly long session with Captain Barreto, which included several invitations to address the Slug Club at the school, Slughorn hit on the ideal theme for the party. Harry and Ginny walked through the entrance to the Room of Requirement from the seventh level. They stepped onto an enlarged replica of the Discooperire. They were standing on the high quarterdeck, a large ships wheel adorned with daisies and white roses in front of them. The deck was almost three times as wide as the original ship. Wide steps went down onto the main deck, where, as Harry remembered, cannon had lined the sides, between the masts. The party set up had tables instead of guns and no masts to inhibit a wide dance area. His feet enjoyed the comfortable feel of the teak floors. A large dining area was built below them, where nominally, the captains cabin would be located. Already, scores of couples were whirling to the music on the dance floor. Outward from the gunwales of the ship, the Room of Requirement was projecting the calming scene of a ship at sea on a calm, breezy night. A silvery moon shone form the ceiling, with a clock face in its center, denoting the countdown until midnight. The crowd on the dance floor was lost in the music. Familiar faces moved to the beat and tempo of the contemporary music that was coming from the ghostly band lodged in a fl oating crows nest above. Members whod been coming to these gatherings since the start were intermixed with newcomers, lost in their recall of times past. In the center of the dance floor, Padma Patil moved slightly from side to side, pensive as she watched her dance partner gyrate in a dysfunctional collection of tics and jerks. Seamus Finnagan would stop his gesticulations every once and while and smile at his dance partner, sometimes planting a small kiss on her cheek, then lose himself to the beat of a band that was more in his head than the one playing above.

Ginny spotted Luna and her husband, Nathan Scamander in the corner of the room and went off to greet them. Harry was caught up in shaking hands with Horace Slughorn. Harry, my boy, thank you so much for letting me set up our little soiree. Slughorn was beaming at the glances he saw from the party goers. Youve done a great job, Horace. Everything looks spectacular. Harry had to admit, Slughorn had outdone himself. The other thing that Slughorn had been able to do was convince members of the Order and the D.A. who did not normally attend to make an appearance. Here and there, Harry spotted wizards and witches that hed not seen in quite a while. At a table, Elphias Doge was chatting with Arabella Figg and Hestia Jones. Minerva McGonagall was dancing with Sturgis Podmore, who was a bit more awkward than the nimble Transfiguration teacher. Aberforth Dumbledore was in a pronounced drinking contest with Hagrid and Dedalus Diggle, whose violet top hat seemed to be tilting more and more on the back of his head as he tossed back his ale. Bill Weasley was leading a very pregnant Fleur to a seat to rest, all the while clucking like a worried hen. Charlie Weasley had a very beautiful and exotic looking woman on his arm. Apparently, she was someone hed met at his job curtailing dragons. Harry glanced around, Hestia Jones was chatting up Kingsley with Arthur and Molly Weasley. With the exception of Mundungus Fletcher, the full surviving roster of the Order of the Phoenix was in attendance. Even more surprising was the attendance by members of Dumbledores Army. There were the obvious people, the members whod comprised Potters Army, the people whod come together to help Harry during the Lucious Malfoy incident. Cho Chang, also very pregnant, was sitting close to her husband, Dennis Creevey, listening to Dean and Isabella regale them about their wedding plans. Seamus was obviously entertaining Padma with his antics on the dance floor. George Weasley and Verity were near the punch bowl with Lee and Sarah and Dudley and Beatrice. Parvati Patil was clinging daintily to Ernie Macmillans arm, heading for the dance floor. What struck Harry was the attendance by those he hadnt seen in a while. Katie Bell and Terry Boot had cornered Oliver Wood and Gwenog Jones, talking Quidditch, much to the chagrin of the professional players. Anthony Goldstein and Angelina Johnson were catching up to where Dean and Isabella were to congratulate them. Susan Bones had trapped Justin Finch-Fletchley under a sprig of mistletoe that miraculously appeared as she neared him. Even Lavender Brown and Zacharias Smith had just entered together, both having been people whod not shown up, for different reasons. Lavender was trying find the maturity to deal with the fact that Ron and Hermione had married while Zacharias had never been a particularly nice person to the other members. Deep down, Harry thought, Smith was probably ashamed at how he ran when given the opportunity to stand with the rest of the D.A. during the Battle of Hogwarts. Harry turned and was surprised to see Michael Corner make an appearance, escorting Alicia Spinnet. A small part of Harrys chest grew dark as the faint memory of Corners da lliance with Ginny sparked a tinge of jealousy. It rapidly disappeared as he saw the same look in Michaels eyes when he spied Cho clinging to Dennis arm. Harry even saw Hannah Abbott as she sipped a drink, casually looking around the room for someone. Harry immediately figured out who she was looking for. Neville wasnt anywhere to be found. Horace, wheres Neville? Slughorn had been going on and had not noticed Harrys lack of attention. Oh, well, he said hed be right down. Oh dear, its already ten thirty. Shall I go find him? No, thats quite all right. It was becoming something of a tradition. Harry caught Deans eye. With a grin, Dean nodded and whispered something into Isabellas ear. She returned his smile and touched his arm lightly. Dean walked up to Harry. Let me guess, Nevilles missing. Im telling you Harry, every time I go to fetch him, its more and more interesting. Deans mind went back to last year when he walked

in on Neville and Jennifer snogging. Deans face immediately went dark, unsure of how Neville was feeling since Jennifers death. A quiet voice spoke up behind them. Have you seen Neville, Harry? Hannah Abbott was standing there, radiant in a beautiful light green party dress, her eyes anxious. Dean spoke up. I was just about to go fetch him. Sometimes he gets a little carried away with his shrubs and forgets the time. Would you mind if I went to get him? Hannah asked. Dean looked at Harry who shrugged. Sure, hes in Sprouts old office. Do you remember where that is? Hannah nodded and Dean gave a wave and went back to where Isabella was standing. Harry watched Hannah leave and hoped that hed done the right thing. He still hadnt had a chance to talk to Ginny about Neville and Hannah. Harry realized that Slughorn had asked him a question. Im sorry, Horace, you were saying? Quite all right lad, I was asking if youd mind coming and talking to the current version of the Slug Club when you give your lecture to Kingsleys class next month? Slughorn had kept up his connections oriented meetings, which were now much more prestigious given his position as Headmaster. I dont see why not, Horace, Id be honored. Harry felt the need to help Slughorn out. The changes hed made at Hogwarts were extraordinary. In many ways, they far surpassed society in general. Would you excuse me? Harry went to find Ginny. The entire time he was taking in the attendees, his mind was trying to figure out who he could trust. Who was in on the plot? Was it Zaharias Smith or Michael Corner? Was it Padma or Parvati Patil? What about Sturgis Podmore or Hesita Jones? Could it be Kingsley or Elphias Doge? His head hurt thinking of the possibilities. He decided to just forget about it for the evening. He sidled up beside Ginny who was talking to Ron and Hermione. Ginny smiled as she felt his arm move around her waist. She rested her head on his shoulder. Ron snorted at Harry. Did you see? Smith and Corner decided to show up, w hat do you think about that? Hermione laughed a little, Well, whats the big deal? I see Lavender Brown over there, Won Won. Rons face scrunched up in annoyance. Harry laughed and led Ginny to the dance floor. A slow song was playing and right now, all he wanted to do was hold her. He nodded a greeting to Adelina Barreto, who was dancing with her husband Raimundo. Williamson was nearby, Muireall Innes looking decidedly unsailorly, dressed in a completely stunning white and black dress that accentuated her red hair and curves. Harrys team leader could not completely erase the smile on his face as he basked in the attention his beautiful wife drew. Ahem? Harrys face was pulled from the spectacle to Ginny who smiled bemusedly at him. Im over here. She said playfully. He laughed and kissed her full and led her around the dance floor, their bodies meshed together. *** The knock on the door was quiet and Neville didnt hear it. Hannah pushed the door open carefully. The room was dark, save for a single candle on a high desk in the center. Around the desk, plants of all shapes and sizes gravitated to the single source of light. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, Hannah saw Neville sitting on a window bench, staring out into the darkness, his fist around a clear, crystal ball.

Neville? He started at her voice, and when he looked at her, his eyes were a little puffy. Im sorry, did I disturb you? No, not at all. I was expecting Dean to come get me. I suspect they are missi ng me down there right about now. He laughed uncomfortably. He stared at the crystal ball and set it on a brass stand on his desk. Did that belong to her? Hannah asked quietly. Oh this? Yes, I guess I was missing her, we were together this time last year. Nevilles voice dropped a bit. Then his head raised, Im sorry, you dont want to hear this. You look absolutely stunning. Her cheeks colored from the attention. Her chin dipped down towards her chest. Thats all right, I understand. Would you mind being my escort for the evening? If I remember correctly, youre the best dancer in our year. For the first time in a long time, Nevilles smile was genuine. He stood and adjusted his robes. He walked over to where Hannah waited and took her hand. Id be delighted. He led her out the door and down the hall. The plants in his office all seemed to sigh collectively, as if pleased that Neville had finally decided to get on with his life. A particularly intimidating looking geranium seemed to clap its leaves together then passed over the candles flame, putting out the light. *** The moon-based clock struck soundly at midnight, ushering another year. The couples around the festive Discooperire embraced in hearty rounds of kisses and hugs, losing themselves in the moment. The Room of Requirement sent cascades of fireworks in the likenesses of comets and shooting stars. Harry held Ginnys face in his hands gingerly, his lips meeting hers, both of them lost in each others arms. He felt his body warm to her touch, the lingering sensation of electricity shooting down his legs seemingly lifting the both of them off their feet, floating in bliss above the deck. Midnight seemed to mark the ending of the evening. Harry found himself in the crowds, wishing everyone a good evening. Slughorn was beside himself with giddiness, imagining the remarkable connections hed made on this one evening. Harry felt a hand in his and turned to find Ginny leading him away. They walked along the corridor and down flights of stairs until they were outside the portrait of the Fat Lady. Dumbledore. Ginny whispered the name and the portrait swung open, the Fat Lady giving an approving nod. The walked silently down the passage and exited into the Gryffindor Common Room. A fire was blazing and Harry noticed that the high backed easy chairs were filled with his closest circle of friends. All of the couples were similarly arranged, the man seated and the woman seated with their legs across the arms of the chair. Most of the women had allowed their dress shoes to fall and the scene was marked by several sets of toes, wiggling in relief and pointed towards the roaring fire. Dean sat with Isabella, Hermione with Ron, Verity with George and Harry and Ginny were the last to arrive. Ginny turned to her husband and smiled, leading him to an open chair. We just wanted one more evening to remember. He smiled and sat down gratefully, soaking up the atmosphere, remembering the halcyon days of school. He idly stroked Ginnys hair, her head resting gently on his shoulder. When it was all said and done, this was absolutely perfect.

That was quite a gathering. Isabella broke the silence. Everyone who was anyone, I think. Hermione added, enjoying the nuzzling her husband was doing to her neck. Well, I for one, am glad we expanded the invitation list. Everyone there has contributed to fighting evil. Harry was indeed happy about it. Members from the Order of the Phoenix, Dumbledores Army, his Aurors and the crew of the Discooperire made the evening appropriate. I dont think that was what everyone had in common. Ron chortled. He looked around at the other three couples in the room. He laughed. Oh come on, that was the I-followed-HarryPotter-on-one-of-his-adventures-and-survived club. They all looked at Ron, smiles on their faces. He, for his part, puffed up his chest. Ron Weasley, charter member. *** The evening finally ended and the couples decided to head for home. Leaving the massive archway that marked the doors to Hogwarts, they made their way down the path towards the gates to the grounds. Harry looked over to Ron and Hermione. I hope Neville is all right. Did anyone see how he and Hannah got along? They kind of disappeared right after midnight, but everything seemed to be all right, I guess. Ron pulled Hermione closer to him as she shivered from the brisk cold. I feel bad for him. Hes had a lot of pain in his life. Ginny leaned in closer to Harry, nestling h er nose into the folds of his coat. A flicker of light caught Harrys eye. High atop the Astronomy Tower, he spotted what appeared to be a campfire on the top, open level of the tower. He reached into the inner folds of his coat and pulled out a set of omnioculars and put them to his eyes. He switched some of the knobs on the glasses and zoomed into the light at the top of the tower. In the flickering light, he saw two figures embracing tenderly, sharing a kiss. When they pulled apart, he plainly saw the faces of Neville and Hannah, smiles radiating from the both of them. Harry smiled and put the glasses back into his coat. He pulled Ginny tighter to him and started walking out towards the gates. I think Neville is going to be just fine. She gave him a questioning look and he kissed the top of her forehead. Come on, lets go home. Chapter 127 Unmasking Partial Truths Number One had grown accustomed to her crimson robes and mask. It was if, when she was disguised, her inner self could come to the front, allowing her to be more assertive than she dared hope. For countless years she served others, in the name of the blood. Of course, she thought, she did this for her family as well. She followed along with the tour group, the second of the day at the massive brewery in Amsterdam. She kept to the rear of the tour, her eyes open looking for the telltale sign of the portal. As they climbed the stairs to view yet another bank of machinery dedicated to sticking labels on green bottles, she veered off into a back hallway. At the rear of the hall, there was a large, gray door with a battered maintenance sign hanging askew off its dingy frame. Slowly, she turned the door know and opened the door. She entered the room, a lone light bulb hung from a wire in the center of the dirty, cob web infested room. She shut the door and pulled on the light string. Instantaneously, a flash of blinding blue light filled the room,

momentarily blinding her. When the light dimmed, she found herself standing at an entryway with a neat, wood desk. In front of the desk a metal sign in several languages greeted her. Welcome to Xanadu, Seat of the International Confederation of Wizards She dusted the remnants of webbing from her shoulders and proceeded past the desk and up a long, winding pathway lined in golden bricks. She followed the path to the administrative buildings that stood in bright, white marble, in front of the glistening silver dome of the main Confederation meeting arena. She entered the main foyer of the building and went to a nondescript directory. She searched the vast array of names and found the one she was looking for. Andre LeClerc, Executive Aide to the Administrative Council, Room 721 She found the bank of lifts at the far end of the hall. Pressing a call button, she waited impatiently for a car to reach her. While she stood, she constantly adjusted her robes and tweaked her long blonde hair, straightening out imaginary flaws in the strands that hung down on her shoulders. Her blue eyes blazed with impatience, her toe slightly tapping until a lift arrived and opened its doors. She stepped onto the lift and pressed the button for the seventh floor. Her pulse raced as she contemplated the meeting ahead of her. The lift stopped at the appropriate floor, she gave a quick adjustment to the front of her dress and walked into the hall. She strode towards a row of doors aligned down the passageway. Stopping at room 721, she knocked on the door and then opened it. She walked into a small, cramped office. There was a large, mahogany desk in the center of the room. One of the walls had every inch of space taken up by gray metal filing cabinets while another wall contained bookcases overloaded with tomes of various sizes and shapes. Behind the desk there was a large, single paned window that looked out onto a spectacular hanging garden that occupied the space between the administrative center and the central meeting dome. Seated at the desk was a thin man with wrinkled, weathered skin and a balding head. What hair remained was silver flecked with black. A pair of silver, wire rimmed glasses was perched on the bridge of his nose, over a black goatee. He was scribbling furiously onto a fresh piece of parchment. When she entered, he looked up and stared at her, as if he was trying to place her face. After a second, a look of recognition came over his stare. He nodded to her and pointed her to a worn, high backed velvet chair off to the side. Number One gave the seat a look of disdain and dusted the cushion off with a swipe of a handkerchief that she pulled from her pocket. He finished his thought on his paper then leaned back in his leather seat, the end of the quill in his mouth. After a moment, he leaned forward on his elbows and gave a grunt. Well, what is your status? His tone was innocent enough, almost as if he were commenting on the weather. Yet in her dealings with this man, Number One knew that there was nothing innocent about the question. We are almost ready. The acquisition of the Staff will be the catalyst for the final solution. She kept her gaze steady, barely hiding the tremor in her voice. I see. The wizard known today as Andre LeClerc rose and stared out the window. Despite the trappings of a simple functionary, when he stood, he was physically intimidating, almost seven feet tall. The light from the window cast an ominous shadow, giving him the image almost of a Dementor. He turned to face her. I understand that your Office of Aurors is starting to piece together enough to be a problem. His brown eyes glared at her through the frames of his glasses. You have been very sloppy.

I assure you, we are on schedule. The Aurors are not a threat. This time the hesitancy in her voice was audible and she chastised herself for her weakness. Not a threat? Any obstacle is a threat to the success of the plan. His anger was visible. He turned to her, seemingly filling the room with the breadth of his shoulders. Need I remind you what the consequences of failure are? This was familiar territory for her. Threats on her life were part and parcel of her avocation. He grinned an evil, menacing grin. Your life is the least of your worries. Your country, among others is trying to upset the balance of the blood. If you fail, if your Circle does not finish its task, I am prepared to take drastic steps. What do you mean by drastic? She stood carefully, clenching her fists. I will seize control of this Confederation and we will wage total war on England. I will kill every mudblood, every half-breed and every wizard on your miserable island. He stared down at her, his face slowly morphing into a dark specter. Do you understand me? In order to preserve the true order of things, I am willing to sacrifice all the magical beings in England. He sat down, his features softening back to the representation of a humble bureaucrat. Still, we have time. I recruited you because I know you understand the stakes. You have an assignment. Finish it and let nothing stand in your way. You know the price of failure. I suggest you do not let it get that far. The dismissal was implicit in his voice. He turned back to his writing, leaving her standing speechless. She turned to leave, opening the door and walking into the hall. In the hall, a hunched over woman wearing the clothing of a maintenance worker came shuffling down the hall. Number One carefully avoided her, turning her nose down to the pitiful woman walking by her. In a huff, Number One sped down the hall, intent on redoubling her efforts to complete her task. *** Ingrid Kalos was a squib. For over seventy years, she saw to the cleaning and general upkeep of the administrative center for the International Confederation of Wizards. She was used to the wizards and witches within these halls barely noticing her existence. She paused as the haughty woman left Monsieur LeClercs office. The beautiful woman in the black dress avoided Ingrid as if she had a disease. Imperceptibly, Ingrid chuckled, staring at the woman. Ingrid felt a pang of recognition. She hesitated and then it came to her. Shed met the woman before. Shed been to visit during a trade mission. Why was she here now? Ingrid Kalos was a squib maintenance worker, had been for almost seventy years. She had another occupation. For the past three years, shed been part of a greater whole. Three years ago, a nice man had approached her husband, a Quidditch sportswear maker. The man was Viktor Krum. Hed recruited Ingrid and her husband to become a member of an organization dedicated to thwarting the designs of the pure blood conspiracy. Ingrid Kalos was a member of Karkaroff. *** A heavy rain fell mixing with the snow that was already on the ground turning the once beautiful scene into a sloppy, miserable slush. Number Five pulled his overcoat tighter around his shoulders as he made his way down the Vendira Avenue cobblestones. Keeping his head down, he walked by the deserted stalls and storefronts, the vendors having called it a night. The roving bands of pureblood thugs and hangers-on were no where in sight as the Ministry beefed up patrols, but their influence was still there, the intimidation was still present, leaving a gaping hole for Number Five to exploit for his purposes.

He turned into a pair of thick, oaken doors that led into a small boarding house. He walked into the foyer and gave a nod to the old woman behind the check in counter. He strode up the stairs and walked until he found the door marked number five. He chuckled to himself and pushed the door open. There were three people in the room. Number One had told him to use Eleven, Thirteen and Fourteen to retrieve the Chillingham Staff, and now it was time to meet the rest of his team. The room was plain. There was a bed and a table and not much else. His search team was seated around the table. When he walked into the room two of them gasped in recognition, his blonde curls and blue eyes had been widely recognized. Over the years, life on the run had trimmed him up, thinned him down. He was older, but still recognizable. After all, hed been one of the most famous Beaters in professional Quidditch. Number One had found him, cornered by the goblins he owed money to. Shed paid his d ebt, now, he was her man. Ludo Bagman was Number Five in the Circle, and he had the most important job of the lot. He sat down at the table and reached a hand out to the man closest to him. He had a thick, black bushy mustache and short, tight curly hair. You must be Number Eleven? Bagman shook hands with the man. The bounty hunter, right? Si, my name is Tomasso Beniti. The mans voice was pleasant, deep. Im Ludo, Ludo Bagman. He turned to look at the other two, a man and a woman. Th e man had wiry hair, a look of utter arrogance on his face. Bagman smiled. I know you, dont I? Youre Cormac McLaggen, arent you? Youve heard of me? It must have been from my days playing Quidditch. I was quite good, you know. McLaggen had a self-satisfied sneer on his face. No, I remember you from the complaints we got from the constant stream of letters we got from you offering advice on how to manage the Triwizard Tournament. The Goblet of Fire selected the participants, and you werent one of them. Ludos voice wasnt malicious, but his matter-of-fact manner drew a trace of annoyance to McLaggens face. Bagman turned to the other person at the table, the woman. She had a pug face, a perpetual frown. She was nervously strumming her fingers on the table top while her forehead was furrowed in thought. Bagman smiled. I dont know you, my dear. Who might you be, Number Fourteen? She looked up, glancing at first, at the other three men. Her expression was nervous. Im Pansy. Pansy Parkinson. She smiled, more nervous than reassuring. Good, now that we know everyone, lets get down to business. Bagman pulled a sheaf of papers from the folds of his jacket. He laid them out on the table. The Chillinham Staff is just a stick. Its about eight feet long, and really not important. This drew curious glances from the rest. Ah, but at the top of the stick is an amulet made of amber. Amber? Theres nothing valuable about amber. McLaggen snorted in contempt. Amber is made from resin, Mr. McLaggen. That resin hardens around a fossil. The fossil in this particular piece of amber is an ancient sprig of mistletoe. This drew even more severe snorts of contempt from McLaggen. Mistletoe? What? Are we supposed to kiss our ways to power? Cormac laughed out loud. This mistletoe is different, Mr. McLaggen. Have you heard of the white cattle of Chillingham? The wild herd? Bagman looked anxiously around the table. Only McLaggen knew what he was talking about. Well, many years ago, when the Romans came to England, they were the

guardians of a sacred herd of cattle. These white cattle were purest, yet they were dying out. When they were brought to England, in hopes of saving them, they were bred with the local oxen, called Aurochs. The intermingling of these breeds accelerated the pace of the cattles extinction. Desperate to find an answer, the Roman counsel Germanicus found the staff. The mistletoe was the first sprig from an ancient tree. When he held up the staff over the mixed blood herd, a remarkable thing happened. The herds blood became pure, only consisting of original white cattle. What happened to the Aurochs? Pansys voice was squeaky, finally caught up in the discussion. They went extinct. The amber mistletoe weeded out the inferior breed for the superior. It used the Aurochs to increase the numbers of the sacred white cattle and eliminated the traces of the inferior blood. Imagine what it will do to the muggle-blood that pervades our world. They did, and the full extent of the plan began to take focus. But, where is this staff? Benitis question struck a chord. Thats the issue. Germanicus knew the power of the staff, so he hid it with the guardian of the River Nessus. He leaned back and looked at there expressions. Benitis face was blank at the reference. What is this River Nessus. What kind of guardian? McLaggen sighed, finally realizing his part in this task, after all, he was from the area. He raised his head, looking at the others. The River Nessus is known by another name. Its known as Loch Ness. Chapter 128 Team Harry On the Move Gregory Goyle exited the pub, more than satisfied with his efforts to dredge up new recruits for his army. Taking a cue from the recent Frustro crisis hed read about in the Prophet, he started a push to find former Snatchers, regardless of their blood status. All it had taken to get this group to sign on was a little cajoling and a little more gold. Goyle turned his head both ways down the street, more out of habit than with any real intent of checking for surveillance. Turning his collar up against the cold, he started down the busy street, making for the nearest Underground station. Tracking a target in a muggle crowd could be difficult for an Auror. Disillusionment charms were only beneficial if the subject stayed away from crowds where the chance of accidental discovery increased. Polyjuice potions were more difficult to procure, and did not alleviate the pursuers from having to change form to avoid detection. Fortunately for Williamsons team, Goyle was not very bright. The five members kept up a constant rotation, each person keeping the hulking man in sight. Silas was up, following Goyle as they headed into the tube station. Making a snap judgment, the junior Auror leapt on the same car as their target, the other four members of the team taking station in cars ahead and behind. Goyle sat down boldly in a pair of seats, ignoring the stares from the crowded car. Goyle snorted in contempt, leaving an elderly woman to stand with her sack of groceries. Goyle got off his stop and walked up to the street. Sarah took over the close pursuit, angling to a following position. The area was familiar, and soon the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron could be seen in the distance. Without checking behind him, Goyle stepped into the pub, where Leonora was waiting, having assumed that this was his destination. The most recent Number Seven of the Circle made his way directly into Diagon Alley and walked down to the entrance to Knockturn Alley. Bulling his way through the crowds, he meandered to a small, hole in the wall restaurant and took a seat inside, directly next to the plate glass window. By this time, Manchester had

taken over the trailing position. He walked past the restaurant and made his way to an alley where he chanted a quick disillusionment charm. Standing by in the alley, Manchester had a steady view into the window. After a few minutes of watching Goyle stuff his face with food, Manchester saw another man join Goyle at the table. The two were having hushed, but animated conversations. Drawing an ancient kodachrome camera from his satchel, Manchester snapped several photos. He spied Williamson taking up position in an opposite alley, Manchester made for the exit, and towards the Leaky Cauldron, intent on getting the pictures of the newcomer to Grimmauld Place, the new headquarters of Harrys ad hoc team. *** The front room of the Potters residence was a mass of books and parchment. Dean, Isabella, Lachlan, Hermione and Ron were scouring through manuscripts researching the Chillingham Staff. What they had found was bone chilling to say the least. Not only was the staff a mechanism for cloning pure blood species, it was a way of eradicating all traces of the host. With this magic, the Circle could reproduce at will and wipe out all vestiges of muggleness from their victims, rendering the muggle-born extinct. The problem was finding the staff. Hermione was flipping through an obscure Roman text when she stood straight up. This is interesting. It says here the last Roman consul in England entrusted the staff to the guardian of the River Nessius. Her cheeks were flushed with excitement. Lachlan, on the other hand, sat back pensively. He stroked his long beard and whistled. Well, thats a problem, I should think. Whys that? Ron looked at his team leader, wondering what could be troubling the senior Auror. The River Nessius is the Loch Ness. The guardian of the staff is the Loch Ness monster. The rest of the people in the room contemplated his statement. You mean that the Loch Ness monster exists? Isabella was a little skeptical, but given what she had seen up to now, she was willing to accept things more readily. Oh yes, she exists, but shes as benevolent as one might hear. Lachlan pulled o ut a map of the Loch Ness area and pointed to a small spit of land jutting out into the water. Thats Castle Urquhart. In the sixth century, St. Columba built it ostensibly to help protect the people living around the Loch. However, there were rumors of a different reason for building it. It was said that below the castle there was a huge treasure room and St. Columba conjured a great beast to guard the treasure. Maybe thats what the treasure is, the staff. Maybe thats what Nessie is supposed to be guarding? What kind of creature is Nessie? Ron sat up and paced the room. No one knows. I guess were just going to have find out. Lachlan didnt look as confident as he sounded. Well have to brief Harry. Hermione sounded unsure of the next course of action. Needless to say, she didnt know if Harry would allow her participation and yet, she was determined to go. When the meeting with Harry finished, she was certain shed make her argument and she would win, there was no other way. ***

The team was gathering. Each member had a new piece of the puzzle to fit into place. Harry had found a way to excuse himself from the goings on at the Office. He was especially troubled by Savages insistent pleas and questions into the course of the investigation. To placate the Auror, Harry had assigned Savage the task of following Draco Malfoy. Perhaps this was a way to keep the man from asking too many indiscreet questions. Harry hoped that was the case. He disapparated in front of his door stoop and took an anxious glance about him, looking for the telltale signs that he was being followed. Satisfied, he walked into his home to find Hermione and her research group talking excitedly with the Williamsons team, who had only recently arrived. Settle down everyone, were just waiting for Ginny. Harry removed his coat and hung it carefully on a stand near the door. He gratefully accepted a cup of coffee from Kreacher, who was seeing to the needs of the guests, as they arrived. Harry took a sip and placed the mug down carefully on a coaster provided by the house-elf. Seeing that his wife hadnt arrived yet, he excused himself and went upstairs to check on the children. Albus, per his usual pattern, was fast asleep in his crib. His unruly black hair seemed to be flying everywhere at once, much like Harrys own pate. The youngest Potter child was growing rapidly, nearing his first birthday. He slept with his eyes half open, and Harry could see the piercing viridian of his sons eyes as he napped. Harry felt a pull at his heart at how remarkably alike he and Albus looked and he hoped that somehow, he could give his son a much better life than he, himself had endured. Harry pulled a blanket up on Albus and went down the hall. James room was a flurry of activity. His oldest son not maintaining an interest in any one thing for any long stretch of time, the room reflected a wide array of different activities, and James migrated from point to point on a whim. Seeing Harry enter the room, James exploded in a ball of energy. Daddy! As fast as his two legs could carry him, James ran to Harry, never hesitating, knowing by experience and by expectation that Harry would use his sons momentum to catapult the boy high into the air, which is what Harry did. James, to this point, exhibited little in the way of fear. Whether it be attention by strangers or some new thing to explore, the word shyness never entered as an adjective to describe James Sirius Potter. Harry marveled at how bold his son was, but Harry also felt a small pang of concern, because James would be the one to get into trouble, hed be the one to find trouble. In many ways, James was more like his namesake grandfather, and less like his own father. Still, right now, how much trouble could a two year old really be? Harry played with James for a bit, until Kreacher made his way back upstairs and James gravitated to the house-elf. Harry nodded thanks and went back downstairs. Still seeing no sign of Ginny, Harry decided to convene the meeting. Everyone found seats and Harry turned to Williamson. How are we on the Goyle front? Harry prompted the team leader to go through their surveillance of the one known member of the Circle. His main base of operations is in the heart of Vendira Avenue, however he does venture out into the real world from time to time. For the most part, he seems to be recruiting. Hes concentrating on local toughs and former Snatchers. The funny thing is, unlike what Macnair is doing, these people are staying low key. Williamson looked over at Leonora, who interjected. I followed some of them. They dont wear the berets or the badges and they tend to avoid any overt confrontations. They meet and it looks like they are training. She paused, seeing the question in Lachlans face. They seem to be training for combat. Its spells and counter spells, mostly things needed to fight, not to intimidate. Id say hes building up quite an army. Theyre not up to our standards, but they could be trouble if they built up sufficient numbers.

Harry nodded soberly and turned back to Williamson. Any clue as to who hes working with? Yes, we tracked him to Knockturn Alley today. Williamson reached a hand out to Manchester, who passed along the developed photographs from the restaurant meeting. Harry took the photos and his face drew taut. He handed the pictures over to Ron, who whistled and then shared them with Hermione and Dean. Blimey, Zacharias Smith! We were just with him on New Years. Cant say that Im surprised, but still, it hurts to have a member of the original D.A. cavorting with these guys. Ron clamped his fists together. I wouldnt mind getting a crack at him. Harry held up his hands to calm Ron. He turned to Williamson once again. Whats Smith doing with Goyle? Right now, he seems to be helping him with recruitment. While Goyle trolls the dregs of society, we followed this man, and he seems to dwell in more rarified company. Shop owners, investors, more high status pure bloods are his targets. Harry nodded. Zacharias Smith had gone into his families shipping company. He would have contacts among purebloods to exploit. Seeing that Williamsons team had completed its report, Harry turned to Hermione. What have you found? Harry sat back, allowing Hermione to start her report. Well, Harry, the staff is a magic talisman that will allow the members of the conspiracy to clone their members and wipe out any muggles who carry the magical gene. The statement, while matter of fact, floored Harry. What do you mean? How does it work? Harry could scarcely believe what he was hearing. In order to create a pure-blood baby, you need one muggle and one pureblood. The staff will take the pureblood DNA and superimpose it with the muggles, creating a new life, with the full, pure blood of the original. What happens to the muggle, who also was the original? Well, that muggle dies. Hermione barely whispered the result. Wait a minute, Hermione, Lachlan interjected, This is assuming that the pureblood DNA is dominant. Isnt just as possible that the pureblood will die out too? Hermione nodded. Yes, normally, but I did what Mortimer suggested. I looked into why they needed Von Blut. She is an expert in blood transfusions that keep the magical gene dominant. In the event that someone needed a blood transfusion from a muggle, the normal result was a weakening of their powers for a substantial time. Von Blut figured out a way to ensure that the magical properties would be sustained during those events. I can only assume she found a way, or someone within the Circle has found a way to sustain the process with the staff. The gist of the crisis was beginning to dawn on Harry. The Circle would be able to create numbers for the purebloods while simultaneously killing off the muggle born. Where is the staff? Lachlan stood up. As far as we can tell, its in cave beneath a castle near Loch Ness. Loch Ness? Lachlan nodded. The monster is the guardian of the staff.

Splendid. Harry put his hand to his brow. All right, we need to go retrieve it, I suppose. Any volunteers? Harry looked around the room as hands went up. Finally, he noticed Hermiones hand raised high. For a brief second, it felt like they were back at Hogwarts, when Hermione was the top of his class, always with the answer. He smiled. Hermione She did not let him continue. Instead, she launched into a rapid fire defense as to why she should go. Harry, I need to go. Im the only one who can piece through the riddles and I figured out it was Loch Ness and Im muggle-born so this is directly related to me. I dont know how you can even think of stopping me Harry raised up his hands and she took in a breath. Hermione, I wasnt going to tell you that you couldnt go. I was going to say, before you interrupted that I thought it was good idea for you to go and Id like you to take Ron and Mortimer with you, as well as Manchester. Harry chuckled at Hermiones look of amazment. I only have one condition. Harrys voice grew stern. Ron is the senior Auror. Once you have an idea of where it is precisely, you will need to defer to his leadership. For a second, it looked like Hermione was going to argue the point. Harry stopped her. Ron is a trained Auror. This is what he is best prepared for. You will need to let him do his job, no exceptions. Slowly, she nodded her head and then let fly a smack that landed right on the back of Rons head, wiping the self-satisfied, gloating look on her husbands face. Oi, what was that for? Ron rubbed the back of his neck. Were not at Loch Ness yet. There was little animus in her voice and soon they were locked arm in arm. Harry looked around the room. Good. We have a course of action with the staff. Williamson, find out who Smith is meeting with. Hes a lot more dangerous because hes not as dim as Goyle. We need to find out whos at the top of this. I may have an idea. Ginnys voice came from the foyer. She walked into the room, slightly out of breath. Sorry Im late, everyone. Volkov had a message from Viktor. Ginny plopped down on a large, oversized chair. Harry offered a glass to drink. Sipping it carefully, she looked around the room. Viktor has an agent in the International Confederation of Wizards watching a man named Andre LeClerc. Hes some sort of low level bureaucrat who is rumored to be the so called power behind the throne. He is the assistant to most of the pureblood leadership, but Viktor is convinced that this man makes all the decisions. Does Viktor think hes in the Circle? Harry asked the question, but not sure that he knew the answer, since Viktor had told him the leader of the Circle was a woman. No, far from it. This man would never sully his hands with the menial tasks. Hes much more strategic than that, but he his someone who would sponsor the Circle. Ginny took another sip of her drink. Anyway, Mr. LeClerc had a visitor last week. Someone who you never see in Xanadu, someone who came specifically to see Mr. LeClerc and then left immediately. Viktor is convinced that there is a probability that this was the leader of the Circle. Who is it? Dont leave us hanging! Ron threw up his hands in exasperation.

I just love keeping you in suspense Ron. Ginny smiled, but her face turned dark. LeClerc was visited in Xanadu by a person very high up in the pureblood movement. She took one last sip of her drink. LeClerc was visited by Narcissa Malfoy.

Chapter 129 - Machinations Malfoy Manor was an imposing edifice, dark gray slate and granite rising up in the midst of impressive grounds. Since Lucious Malfoys capture, his son Draco had assumed the mantle of head of house, taking on the responsibility for keeping the family home from falling into disrepair. In addition to the still vast Malfoy fortune, Draco had taken over the leadership of the vast array of legitimate businesses that his father had started. Mostly dedicated to import and export of exotic items, Malfoy Enterprises had investments in warehousing, shipping and packaging. Draco found that he had a head for business. He was blunt, arrogant and downright loathsome when dealing with his own employees and only less so when dealing with customers, but in the time hed been running the company, hed grown the company by almost twenty percent in almost thre e years. Draco walked into the foyer of his home, his footsteps echoing on the marble floors. One of his squib servants approached him and removed his overcoat and muffler, for storage in one of the closets off the main hall. Draco barely acknowledged the mans presence and made his way into up the grand stairs in the main hall. He turned into a room off to the side and walked into Scorpius nursery. The room was flawless in its decoration. Everything was proper, well designed, the finest of finery all about and the complete antithesis of warmth. On one wall, an old, frumpy lady in a black dress sat in an ornate rocking chair cooing to a swaddled infant. Her name was Mary Riordan and she was a widow. Her husband had passed on almost twenty years ago and yet she still wore black mourning his death. She was a squib and had been in the service of the Malfoys for almost thirty years. When Draco entered the room, she rose from the chair, out of force of habit. Good afternoon, Master Draco. Her head was down a bit, in deference to him. He didnt acknowledge her greeting. How is he today, Mrs. Riordan? Hes doing well, Master Draco. I was just about to feed him. She hesitated a bit and then mustered up courage. Would you like to feed him? A dark look came over his face. Are you telling me that you cant do your job? Oh no, Master Draco, not at all. She was used to his outbursts, so she was less intimidated than any other person would have been. Its just that feeding of a child can be part of the bonding process. The baby gets closer to the person who feeds them. Some part of Mary Riordan remembered holding a baby Draco and feeding him. She remembered that there was a time where the man before her used to adore the time they spent together. Draco mused over her words. He nodded very slightly. She moved from the rocker, making room for Draco, who sat down awkwardly. She placed Scorpius gently in his arms and then handed him a bottle of warmed milk. He shifted around a little and then with a gentleness he didnt know he had, he placed the nipple of the bottle into his sons mouth. Scorpius eyes were wide open, locking its pale blue orbs onto his. Somewhere in the depths of his being, Dracos cold heart thawed a little. As his son fed, Draco began to rock gently. Scorpius had his mothers pale blue eyes, yet they were warmer, more receptive than his mothers.

Hed met Domina at the Ministry, on one of his countless visits to fight for his company. She was working in the Department of International Trade as a regulator. The battles they fought were classic in the annals of the Ministry. He marveled at her beauty, her passion and her dedication to the pure blood philosophy. Domina had been cold, almost heartless, yet from the first moment he met her, he loved her. His pursuit had been relentless. He chased after her in an almost shameless fashion and in the end, she relented. Whether it was from love or from the fact that he was a powerful pureblood who had been a natural rival to Harry Potter, he did not know, but he did not care. They were husband and wife and now this child, who was his whole life, had been the result. Why are you doing the work of our servants, Draco? Domina stood in the doorway. An obv ious look of disappointment was on her face. Do I need to sack that lazy squib we pay to watch the boy? Draco fumbled a bit and stood, unceremoniously handing the baby back to Riordan. Domina had spoken as if Mary was not in the room. I wanted to hold him. Did you come in here to check on him? Domina gave a look of utter contempt. What for? We pay someone to look after him. I was coming to speak to you. He walked from the room, a small tinge of loss in his chest from having to leave his son. He followed after his wife. They stopped at the top of the landing where she turned her ice cold stare at him. Like the first time they met, his heart skipped a beat, her beauty overwhelming him. Is there a problem, Domina? His voice was stronger than he felt. Recently, any time she wanted to talk to him, it was to complain over some aspect of how he conducted his business. The mudblood lover Arthur Weasley and his inbred family were causing all sorts of problems for Domina and she, in turn, had to take it out on him. Problem? I thought we agreed that you stop doing business with the Weasleys? Malfoys shipping business was the primary transportation conduit for some of the more exotic items that George and his team needed for their inventions. We did not agree to anything. The fact is that they are the largest single customer that my shipping company has. Between the delivery of their raw materials and the export of their finished product, they account for almost twenty five percent of m y business. Draco wasnt a shrinking violet. When it came to his familys business, he was willing to stand up to anyone, including his wife. I dont remember us agreeing. I remember you telling me and then I remember me deciding to act differently. Domina nostrils flared from the challenge. You would consort with half -bloods and blood traitors to make a galleon here or there? Id do business with the devil himself if it increased our cash position, Domina. Maybe you should stop fighting the inevitable and try to stake out a position of power. His face grew sad, his mind reflecting back to his father. When you fight a tidal wave, all that happens is that you get bowled over. I knew you were weak, Draco. Youre a disappointment to the pureblooded and youre a disappointment to me. Her voice came out as a hiss. Another voice interrupted them from the stairs. Is there a problem here? Narcissa Malfoy stood on the stairs, a fiery look on her face.

Domina whirled on her mother in law. Problem? The only problem is that youve transferred your failure and your husbands failure on your son. Now hes nothing more than a shill for the half-bloods. I dont know how you can live with yourselves. Narcissa Malfoy was not one to be trifled with. Her eyes blazed and she walked up the stairs and grabbed Domina by the throat. The force of her assault carried the younger woman up to a far wall where she was pinned back by Narcissas anger. Understand one thing, Domina. You may think you know what it takes to fight the battle to preserve the blood and you may think youre better than everyone else, but make no mistake, no one slanders this family, not even my sons wife. Narcissas voice had dropped to a low whisper, her mouth was very near Dominas ear. Your job is to fight the cause in the Wizengamot, which I must say, you are doing a very poor job. The only thing youve done correctly is provide this family with a male heir. Do not, for once, overestimate your worth to me. They stood like that for a minute. Dominas eyes were wide with surprise and fear. Narcissa felt a hand on her shoulder. Mother. Let her go. Dracos voice was shaken. Hed not seen his mother like this in many years. Its all right, mother, she understands. Narcissa looked at her son, saw the fear and love in his eyes and slowly let Domina down from her grip. For her part, Domina remained silent and stormed off towards her bedroom. Shed have to reassess her mother-in-law, a woman shed thought was a broken spirit. Domina had been wrong. Draco and Narcissa stared at each other. It seemed like Narcissa wanted to tell him something. Her mouth quivered and then the door bell rang, breaking the silence. Draco stared at his mother and then walked down the stairs to the front door. Narcissa gave a slight shake of her head and followed him down the stairs. Draco watched as his doorman opened the massive portal, allowing a hidden, robed man to enter. He was tall and Draco couldnt quite make out his face from the shroud of his hood. The man ignored the doorman and stepped out into the light. A pair of scarred, shredded hands raised themselves up and pulled down the hood. Draco felt a sharp intake of breath. The man in front of him should not be here. He was in Azkeban or dead, yet there he stood, sneering. A massive scar ran down the right side of his face, from the top of his forehead, through his eye and down to his chin. His face looked like it was off center, the scar a massive reminder of failure in battle. His eyes were wild, almost insane. Draco finally was able to grab hold of his composure. Hello, Uncle Rodolphus. What are you doing here? Rodolphus Lestrange looked over at Draco, a wicked smile on his face. I need to speak t o your mother, privately. Draco looked back up the stairs and saw his mother standing there. Lestrange walked past Draco and followed up the stairs, leaving the oldest surviving Malfoy male to wonder, what was his mother up to? *** Elphias Doge and Sturgis Podmore were strolling down the corridor of Level Two of the Ministry of Magic. Their pace was slow. I cant figure it out, Sturgis. Every time we activate an agent at the Confederation, their cover gets blown. Are you sure weve covered everything? Elphias looked at his fellow Order member, one of the few people in the world he trusted implicitly. So much so, Elphias had tasked Sturgis to head up his intelligence operation at the Confederation.

I cant explain it Elphias. Theres no doubt, we have a leak somewhere. I may have to do this myself. Podmore stopped and looked at his friend. I dont know what else to do. Doge considered Podmores suggestion. It may come to that, but be careful, Sturgis, these people are playing for keeps. Podmore nodded. At that instant, four fully armored teams of uniformed Hit Squad members were being led to the Office of Aurors, led by Dennis Creevey. For a brief moment, Podmore froze, a look of panic quickly passing over his face, but missed by Doge. I wonder whats going on? Doge looked back towards where the intimidating force disappeared. Sturgis nodded. I wonder myself. *** The Office of Aurors was a flurry of activity. Lachlan McCrory stood in the middle of the Office, gathering up the Aurors and the Hit Team members. Gear up, were moving out in five minutes! Lachlans reedy voice carried over the room, as Aurors strapped on goblin armor or Weasley Defense Arts shirts. Whats going on, Lachlan? Savage looked around curiously, while getting his team together. Were picking up Goyle and whatever followers hes training as an army. Harry wants to nip this in the bud. Lachlan issued more instructions to other Aurors. Savages heart grew heavy. He nodded and helped assemble his team. Right, lets go! Lachlan led the assembled Law Enforcement teams out the door. Savage nodded for his team to follow. As they ran down the hall to the lifts, Savage stopped. Lachlan, take my team, Ill catch up. I forgot my spell shield. Lachlan gave a wave and Savage ran back to the office. He passed his desk and went to a door at the far end of the room. Inside there was a floo used by the Aurors to communicate with their members when on assignment. He looked around the now empty Office and opened the door. He stepped into the darkened room and pulled a small amount of floo powder. He only had a few seconds to warn Goyle. As he approached the small fire pit in the center of the room, a voice rang out. I was hoping it wasnt you, Savage. Number Twelve turned around. Behind him, Harry, Ron and Williamson stood, wands out and pointed at him. I guess I was wrong. *** They escorted the prisoner Savage out into the Office. The men who supposedly been out to capture Goyle were standing outside. The whole raid had been a ruse. They didnt have a clue where Goyle met to train his army, but Harry knew that Savage would know. The next time the team went out, it would be for real. Harry pointed to Dennis. Get him to interrogation, Ill be there shortly. Dennis nodded and gave instructions to one of his teams. They grabbed Savage by the arms and escorted him down the hall. Sturgis Podmore and Elphias Doge were still standing in the hall. Dennis nodded to the men and led Savage past. I wonder what thats all about? Sturgis glanced warily down the hall, after Savage and his captors.

Elphias gave his friend a startled, concerned look. I have no idea, but I can only assume that Harry knows what hes doing. Doge glanced back to where Savage disappeared. I have to go. I have to meet someone. Sturgis nodded and watched as Elphias walked away briskly. *** Number Three answered his door personally. For the sake of security, hed released his servants, whod all been muggles or half-bloods. He couldnt trust them. When he opened the door, he was surprised to see the man he knew as Number Four standing there. We have a problem. There was no greeting. Number Three waved a hand and ushered Number Four into his large home. They went to the study and sat down in front of a fire. This is highly irregular. You know we arent supposed to know who each other are. Number Three was nervous. His colleagues presence here was not welcome, but it meant that something had happened. Dont give me that. Do you mean to tell me you dont know who the players are, including me? Number Four was fidgeting. I know who everyone is, except Number Eight. Be that as it may, you shouldnt be here. Number Three sounded like a petulant child, almost pouting. Potter just nicked Savage. Hes probably drowning him Veritaserum as we speak. What? When did this happen? Number Three rose and started pacing. About half an hour ago. Did you contact Nar, I mean Number One? No. Number Three nodded. He knew a lot of our plans, but he couldnt possibly know our identities. Come off it. Savage was an Auror when you were the Minister, Cornelius. I have no doubt he knows who you are. Number Three flinched. Number Four was right, of course, but the realization was troubling. True, what about the others? Savage wasnt stupid and Narcissa relied on him to vet most of the recruits. He knows who most of the others are. Number Four crossed his legs. This is on her, I suspect. Cornelius Fudge, Number Three, turned to look at Number Four. What are you getting at? I know you dont trust her leadership. You think you should be leading this effort. I happen to agree. This may be an opportunity for you to make your move. Fudge nodded slightly. What about you? Where do you stand Sturgis? Sturgis Podmore rose and walked over to where Fudge was. Ive gone through too much to see this fail because of her ineptitude. Ill back you Cornelius. We need to remove Narcissa Malfoy from the equation to ensure the true blood conquers. Cornelius Fudge nodded gravely and the two men began to plan their coup.

Chapter 130 Encounter at Urquhart Castle Go on, I want you to take it. Harry stood outside Arthur Weasleys equipment shed at the Burrow. Ron Weasley stood next to him, clad in black trousers and a black top, his battered leather satchel over his shoulder. I dont know Harry, why dont we just use the floo and go to Inverness? Rons argument was a little half hearted, from what Harry could tell. I told you before, even though weve captured Savage, his interrogation has been extremely slow. The Floo Network is probably under continuous surveillance by the Circle. Until we figure out where the holes are in our security, we need to run this operation under the wire. I want you three to use it. Harry would not take no for an answer. Mortimer Gafney and Rons wife Hermione were similarly dressed to Ron. Dusk had fa llen and Harry could see that the three were barely distinguishable in the darkening night. Ron finally relented nodded to his wife. Good, its settled. We need to recover that staff. When the Circle finds out that we have Savage, theyre more than likely to ramp up their activities. I expect them to push us on this. Harry placed a hand on Rons shoulder. Given the fact that they had a spy so high in our organization, dont be caught off guard if you meet someone there you recognize. Trust no one but your team. He turned to Hermione. Remember Hermione, once you three are in the field, youve got to let Ron run the operation. I know, Harry. Im fully aware of how important this is. You dont have to worry about me. Despite her assurances, she had a tone in voice that seemed to indicate that she was less than enthusiastic about the prospect. Good. Well, you three should be on your way. Im heading back to the Office to see where we are with Savage. Harry waved at them once more and then tensed up as he concentrated on his destination. In a flash of smoke, Harry disappeared, apparating away. Ron looked over at his companions and then moved towards the object of his conversation with Harry. Parked in the shed was Harrys motorbike which had been restored to its full glory through the efforts of Arthur and Dudley, with a little help from Teddy. At first glance, the motorbike looked almost the same as when Harry and Hagrid had used it on the day Harry left his Privet Drive sanctuary for the last time. It was the day that Mad-Eye Moody had been killed in his efforts to protect Harry from Voldemort. Somewhere down the line, the sidecar had been recovered and returned to its place adjacent to the main motorbike chassis. Hermione stared at the contraption skeptically. Ron was unsure if her fear was due to a fear of flying on the motorbike or from his driving. Her only real knowledge of her husbands ability to maneuver a magically motivated vehicle was based on the adventure Ron and Harry had in Arthurs old Ford Anglica. Still, Harrys arguments had made sense, the motorbike was the best mode of travel in order for them to maintain secrecy. Well, wed better get going. The suns just gone down, wed better take advantage of th e darkness. Ron slid over to the seat of the motorcycle and sat astride it. Mortimer, you go ahead and sit in the sidecar. Hermione, you can sit behind me. Rons trainee Mortimer leapt into the open cockpit of the sidecar. Hermione, for her part, remained standing nearby, her mind rattling through a myriad of outcomes, none seeming to be good. Ron huffed and Hermione smiled sheepishly. With a small amount of hesitancy, she kicked her leg over the body of the bike and sat behind Ron.

Ron turned the key and flipped the kick starter outward. With a little leap, he pushed down on the starter, the engine firing up on the first attempt. He rolled the accelerator grip and gunned the engine. Engaging a gear, he rolled the bike forward, gathering speed. With a flick of a small button on the handlebars, the motorbike hurtled into the sky and they were on their way. Ron banked the bike, soaring up among some smaller cumulous clouds that wafted above in the February sky. Ron turned to the side, raising his voice above the roar of the engine and the whistling wind over the windscreen. Im going to kick in the dragonfire. Miney, make sure you hold on tight! He felt Hermione clamp down harder on his waist, and then he reached down and pressed a button on the gas tank. As if a giant hand pushed on their backs, the motorbike propelled forward as the dragonfire ignited, sending them hurtling into the dark night. Within the hour, they spied the long, icy finger that was Loch Ness in the distance. Ron flicked his thumb over the button again and turned off the dragonfire. Turning the nose over, he brought the bike down towards the surface of the immense freshwater lake. As they flew over the southern tip of Loch Ness, the brooding shadow of Cherry Island loomed up out of the water. Cherry Island was the only land mass on the lake, and it was artificial, created in during the Bronze Age by the local inhabitants. Like an arrow pointing north, Cherry Island showed the way towards Urquhart Castle, the supposed citadel guarding the Chillingham Staff. *** Cormac McLaggen sat at the pub table with his head close to Pansy Parkinson. Numbers Thirteen and Fourteen, respectively in the Circle, they occupied the lowest tier in the pecking order and were the newest members to join. McLaggen could never find work that suited his own self-image. He failed several times to catch on with several Quidditch teams, including a particularly embarrassing showing with the Chudley Cannons. Every time he failed to make a team, he would invariably find some flaw in people evaluating him. His father had been a midlevel functionary in the Department of International Gaming and Competition. Over the years, hed developed close connections with people in the know. His fat her would gain him introductions in many industries and many places, based on his fathers connections, and every time, McLaggen would foul up the opportunity, trying to seem more knowledgeable than he really was. He met up with Gregory Goyle in a pub near Exeter. Not really one for mobs and not really a blood purity advocate, McLaggen had been drawn in more by the praise that Goyle had heaped on him. In the Circle, he found an organization that finally recognized his brilliance. It was McLaggen who brought Pansy into the fold. Shed been idling away in her parents owlery business. Shed not been very enthusiastic around animals , as noted by her poor performance in Hagrids classes at Hogwarts. Nonetheless, with the fall of Voldemort and the shame of her Houses performance during the dark times, all she could find was a small niche in her parents business. Shed caught up with McLaggen a few months earlier and once more, she was needed, she was important. The Circle had done that for her. Tomasso Beniti and Ludo Bagman sat at a table, removed from the other two. Beniti looked over at his team leader. I know their stories. They finally realized that being pureblood doesnt guarantee a future. They probably believe that being a part of this organization is the gateway to a future of leisure for them. They, like many of our pureblooded brethren, blame muggles and mudbloods for their own failings. But you, I do not understand why you are here. Bagman contemplated the bounty hunters words and chuckled. Its quite easy, actually. I was in debt to some goblins. Several of my wagers seemed to have taken a bad spill. Narcissa Malfoy bought out my debt; she owns my life. Its as simple as that. Bagman saw the obvious disappointment in Benitis face. Sorry to let you down, but my story is as basic anyones Number

Eleven. Unfortunately for me, my lot in life was of my own doing. Instead of being beholden to goblins, Im beholden to the Circle. He picked up the mug on the table and drained its contents. In many ways, Im more dedicated to the Circles success than even the true believers. I have no where else to go. The fire nearby crackled and surprisingly, a vicious laugh interrupted their reverie. You dont know how wrong you are Ludo. In fact, you have somewhere to go, right now. The crackling embers in the fireplace had coalesced into the face of Narcissa Malfoy. You need to find the Staff, right now. Whats happened? Ludo stood from his chair, giving a brief wave over to where McLaggen and Parkinson were sitting. We havent heard back from Number Twelve in quite a while and all of his normal conduits of information have dried up. Bagman looked at the eyes in the embers. Despite the remoteness of the floo connection, the power in Narcissas expression overwhelmed him. She continued, The Aurors and Harry Potter may have nicked him, which means they will know everything he knows. What does he know? Did he know who everyone was? He knew some, but not all of us. Still, he knew enough about what we have planned to be dangerous. We need to accelerate our timeline. You must retrieve the Staff and get it to Number Eight. Leave now. With that, the fiery head exploded in a flash of coals and smoke. When he turned, Beniti had risen to his feet and McLaggen and Parkinson had joined them. We have to go. Well use the floo to get to Inverness. Prepare yourselves. McLaggen looked around and averred, Come on, Ludo. Were ready. Lets go. Bagman nodded and tossed some floo powder into the hearth. The Battered Tam. Ludo Bagman disappeared in a flash of soot, soon to be followed by the rest. *** The motorbike followed the western shoreline of Loch Ness, Ron keeping the vehicle low, barely skimming the waves. Ron reveled in the sensation of speed and flight, he loved the feeling of being barely in control as they sped over the water. Much more enjoyable was the warmth from the tightness as he felt Hermiones arms grasp him close. He imagined he could feel her breath on the nape of his neck. He suppressed a slight shudder and focused on the journey. He shifted their course to the west and came upon a small, darkened village below. Drumnadrochit. Thats the village on the map. Ron pointed down tow ards the black spires and roofs below them. Hermione leaned closer to him, Thats the entry village to Urquhart Castle. We need to land near the castle. Ron nodded and pointed the motorbike eastward, back towards the Loch. On a small finger of land reaching out into the waters of the lake, a rocky construction extended into the light of the half moon. Ron pushed the nose over and made for the open courtyard in the ruins of the castle. With a surprisingly delicate touch, Ron landed the huge motorbike on the lawn, pulling it to a halt. When the engine shut down, the silence of the evening reverberated in their ears. They stood amid several crumbling walls, inside the keep of an ancient castle. No one knew when Urquhart Castle had been built. It dated from sometime during the time of St. Columba. What drew

Hermione to this place was the history of Edward I and his interest in magic. Hed captured the castle in 1296, presumably to hide something powerful and Hermione was sure that the talisman Edward sought to hide was the Chillingham Staff. Mortimer, take a look along that wall, see if you can a way down into the mountain. Mortimer nodded and drew his wand. He strode towards the wall looking for some way to move down into the rocky tor which the castle sat upon. Ron looked at the motorbike and waved his wand across it. After a few seconds, the motorbike disappeared from sight. Ron pointed his wand just below where the front tire of the motorbike should be. A red streak of light scorched the ground, marking where the hidden bike was. His task complete, he turned to his wife and led her towards where Mortimer was searching. I think I found something, Ron. Mortimer pointed to a fissure in the basalt floor near the wall. Right here, theres a seam. Mortimer pointed his wand at the seam in the rock. Alohomora! A perfectly rectangular slab of rock lifted up from the ground, tilting upward revealing a steep flight of stairs that ran down into the ground. Ron lit the tip of his wand and peered down the long stairs. The flight led down out of sight, the rough hewn steps showed the wear of centuries. Without hesitation, Ron led Mortimer and Hermione down the stairwell. They traveled downward, the pitch of the staircase throwing them forward, making them resist with all their might to prevent gravity from carrying them to the bottom of the abyss. After what seemed like forever, they reached a landing at the bottom of the stairs. They entered a large, circular room with smooth, stone walls. Runes were etched into the walls, covering almost every inch. At the far end of the room, there was a large stone archway that led into a pitch black void. Hermione? Ron nodded to the runes. Hermione nodded and raised her own lit wand and began to trace the writings on the wall. Ron looked over at Mortimer. Keep an eye behind us, check for anyone following. Mortimer nodded and moved back to the foot of the steep stairway, keeping an eye up to the far entrance. Ron turned back to his wife. Hermione was biting her lower lip, a habit she had when contemplating a problem, an affectation that made Ron smile. He drew near her and placed a reassuring hand on the small of her back. What do you have? It says here that Edward I captured the castle to hide the Chillingham Staff. He created a guardian. His hunters found what sounds like a Plesiosaur, a finned dinosaur encased in ice in the glaciers to the north. He brought the Plesiosaur here and used the staff to merge the dinosaur with a dragon. Why the blazes would he do that? Ron stared at the indecipherable text, unsure of his wifes interpretation. A Plesiosaur is a water born dinosaur, but its a plant eater, hardly the right animal to defend something as important as the staff. Hermione kept up her inspection of the scrawl. So, where is the staff and where is the monster? Ron looked around the room with an unsure eye steady on the dark archway. Its inside Cherry Island. The only entry is underwater and through the cavern of the guardian. Wonderful. Lets go, we can get to the island while its still dark. Ron grasped her gently by the elbow and led her back towards the stairwell. Somebodys coming. Mortimer hissed. Ron ran to where his student knelt and looked up the stairwell. Four beacons of light were slowly making their way down towards them.

Ron looked up and then made a snap decision. Come on. He led the others towards the archway. Inside the arch, there was a small niche, just large enough for the three of them to fit. They had just enough time to cram inside, just as the first steps on the landing approached their ears. Im telling you, I heard someone down here. Hermione drew in a deep breath, recognizing the voice of Cormac McLaggen. Involuntarily, she shuddered, remembering back to her failed date to one of Professor Slughorns parties. McLaggen had been more than a little inappropriate with his advances. I dont see anything, come on, theres another entrance here. Pa nsy Parkinson peered down the dark maw of the entrance. She stood within feet of where they were hiding. Hold on, let me take a look at these runes. The voice had a slight accent. Pansy looked back and moved away from where they were hidden. Can you understand this writing? The voice made the hairs on the back of Rons neck rise, not out of fear, but out of anger. Ludo Bagman had cheated him out of a substantial amount of winnings during the Quidditch World Cup some years back. Hed paid Ron i n leprechaun gold, which disappeared after a time. Still, how had Bagman become part of the plot? Its not here. Its on the island. We should go. Any sign of the Aurors? Bagman looked back towards the archway, a suspicious look on his face. Satisfied, he motioned for his team to file out. Ron leaned in and whispered to the others. Theyre between us and the entrance. We cant let them get to the staff. Come on! Ron stepped from the alcove and raised his wand. Expelliarmus! His cha rm slammed McLaggen and Pansy into the wall, near the entrance to the stairwell. Mortimer flanked to the left and fired a spell which cracked the wall near Benitis head. The bounty hunter instinctively ducked and let fly a bolt of his own. Hello, Ludo. You owe me some money! Ron spun down towards the right in the circular room. He rolled and let fly a spell towards Ludos head. Pansy let fly a spell from the floor, narrowly missing Mortimer, who was in constant motion, edging around the wall working his way over towards the stairwell. McLaggen rose and spotted Hermione. Hello, Hermione. Miss me? Miss being with a real man? He let fly a charm that struck Hermione square in the chest, sending her flying. Ron screamed in rage and sent a spell into McLaggens side, spinning the Circles Number Thirteen to the floor, unconscious. Mortimer kept up his attack, pressing the advantage. Pansy dropped down to where McLaggen lie and looked over at Ludo who was trying to hold off Mortimers attac k. Ludo looked over at Pansy. Get him up the stairs, weve go to go! Pansy levitated McLaggens prone body and led him to the stairs. Ludo turned to Beniti, who was dueling with Ron. Lets go, Tomasso. Ill deal with them. Beniti let fly a blast that brought a section of the roof down on Ron, causing the red-haired Auror to protect himself and the unconscious form of his wife. Using the distraction, he ran up the stairs. Ludo leapt forward head-first and landed in a roll, using his momentum to get up the stairwell. He turned and fired a tremendous blast which dropped tons of rock and granite down

the stair shaft, blocking the entrance back to the surface. Breathing heavily, Ludo turned up and followed his team up the stairs. The room was cast in a dark, impenetrable blackness. Soot and debris were scattered all about. Mortimer lit his wand and went over to where Ron huddled over Hermione. Is she all right? Ron finished his inspection and nodded. Shes okay. Just a little dazed. Whats our situation? Mortimer pointed his wand back to the entrance. They collapsed the stair way down on us. We cant get back up there. They know where to find the staff, but the worst part is were trapped. Ron looked back to the gaping black hole of the archway behind them. I guess were just going to have find another way. Ron tenderly picked up his wife and nodded to Mortimer. Were not out of this yet, were just going to have to do this the hard way. Mortimer leading the way, they entered the dark mouth of the archway which led further down into the unknown. Chapter 131 Nessie Ron followed behind Mortimer, his wifes dead weight bringing an ache to his arms as he struggled to carry her down the sloping stairwell. Hold on a minute. Ron called after his apprentice, who stopped and turned around. Can you apparate? Mortimer stood and focused on a point on the far wall. After a few moments, he shook his head. Must be some sort of blocking spell in place. How is she? Ron gently lifted a stray tress of hair that had fallen across Hermiones forehead. Her breathing was regular and he touched her cheek, causing her to stir. I think shes okay. She should be coming out of it any time now. As if on command, Hermiones eyelids fluttered and she focused on Rons worried face as she regained consciousness. W -what happened? We ran into the bad guys. Theyve blocked up the passage up and weve been following this corridor for the last few minutes. How are you feeling? Ron helped her sit up as she looked around the dark stairway. Im a little groggy, but I think Ill be fine. She reached out an arm to Ron, who helped her to her feet. Wed better keep moving. Weve got to find a way out of here. Bagman has a head start on us. Ron lifted his wand and took the lead, with Hermione following directly behind him and Mortimer bringing up the rear. The stairwell tapered off after a few hundred meters, finally leveling off onto flat ground. The passage widened noticeably until it ended at another archway, similar to the one in the circular room. They passed through the arch and entered another circular room with smooth granite walls. Like the one above, the walls were laden with countless etched runes. On the floor, in the center of the room, there was a smoothly cut circle, roughly six meters wide. In the circle was a pool of black water, which seemed to be flowing rapidly underneath the floor. Ron went to the pool and dipped the edge of his lit wand into its surface. The water pushed hard on the wand, almost ripping it from his grasp. With a start, Ron pulled the wand back out.

Hermione walked around the circumference of the room, her eye trained on the writing on the wall. As she walked, every so often, she would take a quick glance at the pool and then look back to the wall. After a few minutes she turned back to her companions. That pool is a gateway to the chamber of the guardian. Her voice sounded confident. We can use it to get to the island, possibly ahead of the Circle. What do you mean? How long is the trip? Ron stared at the pool apprehensively. It doesnt say. Well need to find a way to breathe underwater. Mortimer looked over at Ron. Gillyweed? Ron thought for a moment. No, well have to use bubble charms. We dont know how long itll take to get to the island. Too short, and well have to wait until our gills wear off. Too long, and well be out of air before we get there. Mortimer nodded and began mumbling the incantation to produce the bubble that would provide breathable air. Hermione joined him in preparing to leap into the icy water. Ron stood on the edge of the pool and pointed his wand at his mouth. Ill go first. You two follow. If we get separated, make for the island. We need to get that staff. He watched as the others nodded in agreement. With a quick wave of his wand and a silent recitation of the proper charm, a rubbery bubble formed a seal around Rons nose and mouth, allowing him to breathe freely. He took a deep breath and jumped feet-first into the center of the pool. He felt the crushing blow as the force of the current grabbed his body. The cold of the water felt like needles shooting through his body and it took all of his effort to retain his grip on his wand. His body was propelled at an impossible speed down what looked like a tube of shale and slate, the current keeping his figure dead center of the tube. He rocketed down the passage, to what seemed to be an opening in the cliff face and out into the midst of Loch Ness. When he entered the Loch, the tube wall became translucent, like Plexiglas. He was still being pushed at a dizzying rate, but now could make out the surrounding flora and fauna that lived on the lake bed, deep beneath the surface. He struggled and turned his head around. He could barely make out the light of the wand of whoever, probably Hermione, had followed behind him. Encouraged, he turned back to the front and watched as he zipped down the clear pathway. After a few minutes, he began to see the outline of a large, black rocky formation ahead where the tube seemed to end. It looked like the tapered end of an ice cream cone, as if the rock was floating in the water. That has to be Cherry Island. Ron thought. He seemed to be picking up speed and for he felt a momentary sense of panic as the thought of being thrown against the rocky wall at the speed he was traveling raced through his head. Involuntarily, he tensed, awaiting the bone-crushing impact. Instead, he passed through into another rocky passage deep beneath the island. After a few minutes, he felt his body thrown upward and he cleared the water and landed hard on a flat slab of rock. He shook his head and peered around. Light seemed to be emanating from panels on the walls. He was in a room similar to the one hed left near Urquhart Castle. Remembering that his companions would be hurtling out of the water behind him, he rolled to his right and up against the wall. He moved in the nick of time as Hermione came arcing out of the pool nearby and landed with a thud on the floor, almost where hed just been. Shakily, Ron got to his feet and went to his wifes side. Gingerly, he helped her up and led her to the side as Mortimer came flying out of pool and landed in the same spot. Soon, they were all standing, surveying their surroundings. That was interesting. I think were on Cherry Island. Ron looked around. More runes dotted the room. At the far end was another entrance, leading up int o the heart of the island. I guess we go that way. He pointed up the corridor and started up the stairs on the other side.

They climbed a ways up the passage until they came to another broad arch which opened into a brightly lit cavern. On the floor of the cavern there was wide culvert of water, with smoothed stone sides, like the mooring slip of a marina. The floors of the room were littered with untold mounds of treasure. Glittering jewels and golden vessels dotted the area, a lifetime of wealth collected in one place. Across the watery finger in the center of the cave was a high bridge and in its center, a knotted oak staff was nestled in a holder. At the top of the staff was an uneven glob of orange stone, like rock candy. In its center was a pristine sprig of mistletoe, looking ready for Christmas morning. Ron let out a breath. There it is. Come on. As he led them towards the base of the bridge, a noise from the far side of the cavern caught their attention. Entering the cave from a side passage, the four members of the Circles search team entered the room, spotting Ron and the others at the same time. The antagonists stared at each other over their wands, each waiting for the other to move. As they shifted around, trying to gain advantage, the black water below began to froth and bubble. Both sides stopped and watched in horror as a pair of fiery red eyes broke the surface of the water, followed by a smooth, tapered head and long neck. The creature broke the surface gracefully and flew into the air on a pair of massive leathery wings. The jaw and eyes were that of a large dragon, as was the front body, with scaly, taloned legs jutting from the front. The dragon body gave way to a more eely body, with a long smooth tail and fins for rear legs. The creature flew into the air and landed on the middle of the bridge, directly on top of where the staff sat. It pointed its mouth in the air and let fly a tongue of flame which seared the top of the cavern. With a roar it bobbed its head from side to side, challenging the interlopers in its midst. Take cover! Ron ran to Hermione and pushed her behind a large outcropping near a mound of golden goblets. Mortimer hid close by, his wand drawn and pointed not at the creature, but at the members of the Circle across the pond. Ludo Bagman drove his team to cover. We need to try to drive the beast towards the Aurors. We just need to distract it and get the staff. He pointed to Beniti and Pansy. You two, try to drive the creature to the other side of the bridge. Ill go for the staff. Cormac, you keep their heads down until its too late for them. They nodded. Beniti and Parkinson tentatively held their wands out and sent out shield charms towards the creature. It roared in annoyance, driving fingers of flame their way. McLaggen peered around his rock and saw a tuft of curly hair sticking out from where its owner was hiding. With a sneer, he pointed his wand out at the rock and sent a curse flying. *** Hermiones brain was calculating a course of action when the rock near her head exploded into thousands of fragments, some of the shrapnel digging into her skin. Ron was at her side, checking her for injuries. Are you all right? Im fine, Ron. We cant stay here. We need to find a way to get that monster out of the way. Ron nodded and looked over at Mortimer, who was throwing spells over at the location where McLaggen had fired from, keeping the Circle members head down. Ron ducked his head as Nessies tail came hurtling through the air and impacted on the wall behind them. Ron turned towards Hermione. I have an idea. Ill distract the beast. Mortimer, when I do, you have to engage the Circle idiots, keep them busy. Hermione, you get the staff. Clear? What are you going to do about her? Hermione used her head to point to the monster defending the staff.

Something Harry taught me about dragons. Ron smiled and reached into his satchel, which had been charmed by his wife to hold an interminable amount of items. With a flourish, he drew out a new Firebolt, a gift hed received for Christmas. Hermiones eyes widened, fear for Rons safety permeating her gaze. I dont know if thats a good idea, Ron. Theres not a lot of room to maneuver here. Her voice shook. Ron smiled gently and mounted the broom. Hey, its me. He smiled and kissed her gently. Ready? She nodded and took up a position near the base of the bridge. With a look towards Mortimer, Ron rose up from his cover and his Firebolt catapulted towards the ceiling. He leaned down on the broom and extended his wand, tossing a rapid fire crescendo of curses towards the monster, urging it to follow. The monster roared in frustration. Bending down on its forelegs, it leapt up into the air, intent on chasing the object of its irritation, Ron. Mortimer spotted Bagman and Beniti immediately and began pelting them with curses, forcing them away from the foot of the bridge. Pansy lost her footing and slide down into a mound of Spanish doubloons. McLaggen spotted a flurry of curly hair and determination racing up the bridge. Seeing his partners occupied, he leapt from his cover and ran towards the bridge, boldly ignoring the bolts that Mortimer sent his way. Hermione ran up the bridge and got to where the staff rested. She grabbed the center of the staff and pulled it from its stand. She saw a blur of movement to the side and stretched her arm out. Expelliarmus! McLaggen and Hermione shouted at the same time. Both their wands flew from their hands and the staff clattered to the ground near by. Shaking his head, McLaggen stood up and walked up to where Hermione was rising. He grabbed her shoulders and leaned into her face, a hateful look on his own. What do you think youre doing, Granger? He said her name with contempt. I hear you married that loser Weasley. I guess it was the best you could get since you let me get away. Let me go, Cormac. Hermione struggled against him, but he pushed her down hard to the stone floor. What for? As I recall, you like it when I play rough. He pushed his forearm to her neck, his mouth to her ear. Maybe you should have been nicer to me, eh? His arm choked off her screams. *** Ron raced around the ceiling, weaving in and out of the stalactites that hung from above. The creature raced behind him, forcing its body through the openings that it could not fit and bursting the spires into dust, raining debris on the cavern floor below. Ron glanced down and saw the two figures sprawled together on the floor of the bridge. Hermione! He nosed the broom over, narrowly missing the incinerating blast from the creatures maw. He swooped down, near the water and skimmed the surface racing for the bridge, the Loch Ness monster trailing close behind. *** Hermione struggled against McLaggen. Rons voice reached her ears. She redoubled her efforts. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Rons broom zoom by, forcing McLaggen to glance up at her husband. Hermione had talked with Harry endlessly about his ability to use wandless

magic. She often wondered if shed have the same capability. She concentrated and when McLaggen looked up, he released the pressure on her throat. Stupefy! Hermione shouted. A projection of red light exploded from her hands and into McLaggens chest, sending him flying into the air and directly into the mouth of the monster. Nessie bit down on McLaggens torso, its razor sharp hybrid teeth tearing into his soft flesh. McLaggen screamed horribly. The monster didnt seem to notice that it had him in its mouth, still intent on catching the rocketing form of Ron on his broom stick. Taking the opportunity to fire another flame shot, Nessie let loose a terrifying growl as the white hot dragonfire emanated from its belly and out its mouth. Caught in the path of the flame, Cormac McLaggen was instantly incinerated into ash. The Circle had lost its Number Thirteen. Accio wand! Hermiones wand flew to her hand. She searched around desperately for th e staff and finally saw it lying on the treasure encrusted shore on the far side. Hermione stood and started running for the end of the bridge. As she reached the shore, she started taking fire from Bagman who was hidden from Mortimers attacks. Hermione dropped down behind a nearby boulder. She could see the staff, but was pinned down from moving out into the open. She stared in horror as a hand reached down and grasped the staff. Desperately, Hermione let a spell fly, trying to stop the hand pulling the staff behind a nearby rock. Hermiones spell missed and for a brief moment, she caught a glimpse of Pansy Parkinson gripping the staff to her breast and then rolling out of sight. Pansys shaky voice echoed in the cavern. Ive got it! Ludo, Ive got the staff! Beniti stood and moved to take aim at Hermione. Mortimer let fly a spell that propelled the bounty hunter back against the rock wall and then down onto a mound of rubies. His momentum carried his unconscious form down the slope and he fell silently into the water below, his body sinking into the murky depths. Seeing his target go down, Mortimer reached out and shouted. Levicorpus! Slowly, Benitis head broke the surface as his body hung suspended in the air by its ankle. Bagman made his way over to where Pansy sat, sending curses flying towards Mortimer and Hermione. He grabbed her wrist and they crawled back towards the entrance. Pushing Pansy up the stairs, he reached into his robe and pulled out a vial of Peruvian Darkness Powder and sent it flying. Go! Get up the stairwell! Pointing the wall behind him, he sent a blast blindly, hoping to collapse the passage. Unsure of his success, he ran after Pansy, the prize in hand. *** Hermione saw the cloud of Darkness Powder hovering over the cave entrance. She jumped as Mortimer joined her across the bridge, having run over after incapacitating Beniti. Hermione shook her head. They got away with the staff. Mortimer nodded his head grimly. Wheres Ron? In the excitement, Hermione had almost forgotten that her husband was locked in an aerial duel to the death with the mythical Loch Ness Monster. Feeling shame and horror, she looked to the high ceiling to see Ron still flying, the monster in hot pursuit. She reached her wand to her throat, causing her voice to carry. Ron, they got away with the staff. Weve got to go! She watched as Ron did a barrel roll and turned at an impossible angle, barely missing a far wall. His voice carried down to them. Get back to the transport tube. Take the prisoner with you! Ill be right behind you!

Mortimer grasped Hermione by the wrist and led her back across the bridge. He pointed his wand at the unconscious Beniti and motivated the prisoner over towards the entrance theyd come through. Mortimer made his way back down the cave, pushing Beniti in front of him. Hermione paused at the cave entrance. Come on, Ron! Lets go! She stood rooted to the spot, unwilling to leave her husband behind. Go Hermione! I wont leave you! Go Hermione! I promise, Ill be right behind you! Youd better, Ron Weasley! Therell be hell to pay if youre not! Trust me! Hermione hesitated for another second and then moved back into the cave entrance. *** Ron saw his wife head into the cave. Hed had several near misses and was running out of room to maneuver. The creature was working to corner him and finish him off. Ron had taken note of a small knot hole in one of the outcroppings near the ceiling. He looped down towards the floor, the monster matching his maneuver. This is the tricky part. Ron thought to himself. Hed have to let the creature draw nearer, in order for this to work. He could almost feel the monsters breath on his neck. Ron soared towards the ceiling and pulled back hard on the brooms handle, flying inverted. At the apex of his climb, he guided the broom through the knothole in the rock, the creatures long, slender head and neck following him close behind. The creature became wedged in the hold, stuck. In a fit of fury, it let fly a burst of flame that burst around Ron, incinerating the sweep of the broom and catapulting him from the handle. Ron felt himself falling uncontrollably. The ground approached at a rapid pace and all he could think about was disappointing Hermione. *** Hermione and Mortimer stood in the reception room, back beneath Urquhart Castle. She paced wildly, her steps echoing as she stared at the pool entrance. Beniti was trussed up tightly, his eyes following her progress as she hovered. Mortimer kept his mouth shut, his own anxiety building. He said hed be right behind us, didnt he? Mortimer could only nod. It had been almost a half hour since theyd come through the water portal and still there was no sign of Ron. Im going back for him. Hermione had resolved herself, but Mortimer, whod shown no fear in the cavern, was mustering more courage than hed ever thought hed had. He stood in front of Hermione. I cant let you do that. Hes my husband, Mortimer. I have to go get him. She stood defiantly, ready to enter the pool. No. Thats not what he wanted. Hes my tutor. He wanted you to be safe, Hermione. If hes all right, hell be here. If hes Mortimer couldnt bring himself to say the word gone. Then going back would make his sacrifice meaningless. I cant let you go back.

Hermione gave him a hateful stare. He almost relented, but he stayed firm. Her eyes were welling with tears as she realized that Mortimer was right. As the despair began to overtake her, the pool began to bubble and froth. In seconds, Rons slightly singed form hurtled up out of the pool, into the air and down hard on the ground. He sputtered for a second and then stood, his clothes soaked to the bone. Hermione leapt up and grasped her husband tightly, unmindful of his soggy state. What happened? She stood back and hit him on the shoulder. You said youd be right behind me. Ron rubbed his shoulder. I tried, but the beastie got me with a fire blas t. By the way, it looks like Im going to need a new broom. Any way, he knocked from my broom, but I landed in the middle of the pool. It took me a while to climb out and make my way to the portal. I thought you were dead. I thought youd never get away from it. Hermione buried her head in his chest. He chuckled. Always the tone of surprise. She laughed with him, relief pouring out of her. He separated from her after a moment and stared at Beniti. Come on, weve got to tell Harry. The Circle has the staff.

Chapter 132 Coup d Etat Gregory Goyle stood atop a battered wooden crate in the center of the large pier side warehouse. Every so often, he would offer unsolicited advice on wand technique or spell pronunciation. Around him, in small groups of ten to twenty, his beret wearing acolytes were running their charges through their paces. Goyle fancied himself a field marshal of sorts, taken to wearing a long, black overcoat, its buttons straining with against the pressure of his sizeable girth. His closely cropped hair was hidden under his own, red patched black beret, the headwear canted at a jaunty angle, befitting his leadership. Hed fashioned blood red epaulets for his shoulders with golden threaded crossed wands and insisted o n everyone calling him marshal as befitting his station as leader of the underground army. After a few moments of his long distance heckling, he noticed a short, scrawny girl in the corner having issues with some of her instructions. He jumped down from his perch and strode purposefully to her side. He towered over her, using his height and weight to intimidate her further. What do you think youre doing? Youre holding that wand like youre some first year mudblood at Hogwarts! It aint gonna bite you! He enjoyed menacing these new recruits. Their wild, fear-filled eyes demonstrated his power, or so he thought. The girl before him barely reached the lapel on his coat, yet instead of cowering, like all the others, her eyes blazed in defiance. Dont you dare call me a mudblood! She prodded his ample stomach with the tip of her wand. He took a step back, incredulous that she was resisting him. O ho, you think you have the gumption to talk back to your marshal? Despite his bravado, Goyle took an uneasy step back. Usually, when they were this small and he towered over them, they drew back, but this one was not intimidated. He snapped his fingers, drawing some of his personal retinue to his side.

Hold her! Before she could move, one of Goyles henchmen ripped her wand from her hand while two others grasped her by the shoulders. Once she was incapacitated, Goyle took a tentative step towards her and leaned his face to hers. I may not be able to use a Cruciatus Curse on you, but I find that sometimes the old ways work just as well. He reached into the folds of his jacket and pulled out a long handled bull whip. He took the end of the handle and rubbed it on her cheek. Ill have to teach you manners, missy. Youll learn discipline soon enough. He gave a nod and his men bound her between two posts, her arms held high above her head. Goyle unfurled the whip and cracked it in the air with a snap of his wrist. The training all around had stopped with all eyes fixated on the tableau. Many of the trainees were staring in obvious satisfaction, excited at the prospect of seeing pain inflicted on another, but some eyes were horrified, shocked that one of their own was being treated in such a manner. Goyle noticed none of this. His face was locked in an expression of anger and the object of that anger was the woman whod had the temerity to defy his authority. As he reached his arm back, ready to deliver the first blow, the large, sliding doors at the entrance to the warehouse shattered in a deafening explosion of fire and smoke, splinters raining in all directions. The concussive force of the blast knocked most of the wizards and witches inside off their feet, including Goyle. He struggled to rise and peered anxiously into the dissipating smoke. The blood drained from his face as four spears of Aurors and Hit Team members ran into the room, Harry Potter at their head. Harry led the way into the warehouse. He stopped at the threshold and looked over at Dennis Creevey, who was leading his teams. Dennis, we want as many of the leaders as we can find. Make sure you pick up Goyle. Dennis nodded and lifted a gargantuan, muscled arm pointing to the circle of leaders in the middle of the room. Right, have at them! He turned back to Harry, Personally, Im hoping that they all resist arrest. Harry smiled and looked over to Williamson, who had led his team into the warehouse as well. Eric, please set up a perimeter, be mindful of escapees out the back. I want to bag them all. Right, Harry, on the way. Williamson bolted for the alley to the rear of the building, his team and another spear of Hit Team members following him at a run. Goyle clambered to his feet, stunned at the intrusion. For a brief second, his own personal retinue and the trainees milled around aimlessly, unsure whether what they were seeing was real or not. Panic set into their marshal. He grabbed one of his lieutenants and screamed. Get them, dont let them capture me! Theyre here for me! Youve got to buy me some time! Shaken out of their shock, pockets of trainees, prompted by the thugs standing behind them began to raise their wands and put up a fight. As his army began to fight back, Goyle slowly retreated, beads of sweat pouring down his brow. His eyes danced back and forth, looking for an escape. He stopped and concentrated on a destination. After a few seconds, nothing had happened. A sense of dread began to overcome him. Goyle could not apparate out. Did you get your counter apparition spells in place? Harry stood in the open doorway, long black robes flowing freely around him as he clasped his hands behind his back. Lachlan McCrory was standing beside him, his wand out, keeping a careful eye on the action taking place in the center of the room. Of course. It was difficult to set it up on a building this size in such a short time, so I jinxed the floor, first and I have Cavendish finishing up the structure. Lachlan lifted his wand and sent a curse that struck one of the large black-coated thugs who was attempting to blast Dennis in the back.

Excellent. It looks like Savages information had been correct. The interrogation of the traitor in his office had been distasteful, to say the least, but Harry and Lachlan had kept up the pressure. They knew significantly more about the Circle. They knew that Narcissa Malfoy was the leader which confirmed Krums information. They knew that in addition to Malfoy, Cornelius Fudge, Zacharias Smith, and Ludo Bagman were key members. They also knew about three of the four foreigners, the bounty hunter Beniti, the senior law enforcement member, Kerelenko and the healer, Van Blut. Most of all, they knew about Goyle, based on Notts information. This training location had been pulled from the depths of Savages mind. To Harry, Goyle was the key. He would know where the next meeting was and he would know how to get the rest and put this threat to bed. The warehouse was a chaotic theatre of light and explosions. The Ministry personnel were outnumbered almost two to one, but numbers alone did not tell the tale. Goyles army was nothing more than a rabble, undisciplined and inexperienced. The Aurors and the Hit Team members had been drilled into a finely tuned machine. Dennis expertly led his spears directly into the center of the mob that fancied itself the army of the pureblooded. Each member of Dennis team covered a section of the spear, supporting the person in front of them and confident that the person behind was covering them. The Ministry teams tore into the center of the mob, easily dividing it in two and then in two again, chipping off assailants with stunners and paralyzers with brutal efficiency. All around, bodies with black berets lay on the ground, incapacitated from the weight of the assault. Dennis was in his element, towering above his enemies. He moved with amazing agility, diving to the right and leaping to the left, each time his wand emitting a spell which flew true to its target. Goyle cowered behind a large column at the rear of the warehouse. He watched in horror as the inevitable defeat of his forces began to show. The issue had been decided, it would seem, as soon as the Ministry people had entered the building. His army was no match for Harry Potters. Desperately, Goyle searched around him for an escape. In the back corner of the warehouse, he spotted a small door, which led to a back alley. With one last look at his men, Goyle sprinted for the door. Dennis caught Goyles movement out of the corner of his eye. Shaking off one opponent, Dennis moved with surprising speed after the escaping Circle member. Goyle saw Dennis approaching and raised his wand, firing off a curse towards the tall Hit Team leader. Dennis easily deflected the blast and kept coming. Frustrated, Goyle made Dennis the focus of his rage, firing bolt after bolt at the rapidly approaching man. Forgetting all thoughts of escape, Goyle finally stood his ground, intent on killing the man in front of him. He sent a killing curse towards Dennis who managed to dodge it by hurtling to the side and rolling up. Behind Goyle, the door hed been running to burst open, revealing Williamsons team. Momentarily distracted, Goyle didnt hear Dennis close the last few feet between them. Dennis anger at Goyles attempt to kill him forced the muscular man to eschew his wand. Goyle turned around in time to see Dennis massive fist connect with Goyles jaw, like a boulder hitting an egg. Goyle crumpled to the ground, unconscious from the punch. The rest of his trainees resistance, died out in a similar fashion. Soon, Number Seven and his henchmen were all in custody, in a fight that had lasted barely ten minutes. Harry smiled grimly and turned on his heel, heading back for the Ministry. *** Savages apprehension had caused the Circle to institute an emergency meeting plan. Those members that were available were congregated at a farm somewhere in Cornwall. Theyd decided to forego their masks and costumes because time and circumstances had long surpassed the need for secrecy. They stood in a large barn in a rough circle. Narcissa sighed to herself as the Circle was much smaller than it had been at the last meeting. Savage had been nipped by the Ministry. Bagman and his team were pursuing the staff. That left herself,

Rudolphus, Van Blut, Kerelenko, Smith, Podmore and Fudge, plus the mysterious Number Eight. The sound of a disapparition caused the seven members present to jump. Walking into the barn, Sturgis Podmore looked tense. They just nabbed Goyle and his entire organization. Its a matter of time before they know about all of us. Sturgis stopped and stood next to Fudge, a move that Narcissa could not help but notice. Fudge shared a quick look with Podmore and then turned to Narcissa. There you go, Malfoy. This is another failure of your leadership. What are you saying, Cornelius? Do you seriously think someone as dimwitted as you can do better? Narcissas cold blue eyes stared back at the former Minis ter of Magic. Slowly, Lestrange began to pull out his wand and advance to Narcissas side. Fudge hesitated for a brief second and then stared back at Narcissa. As a matter of fact, I do. You may think me dimwitted but your leadership has been obviously flawed and Im not the only one that thinks so. Sturgis stood beside Fudge, wand out. Narcissas eyes narrowed, but she did not move. Id thought you had better sense that this, Sturgis. Fudge is an idiot. Podmore chuckled. You might be right, Narcissa, but your personal judgment has led to catastrophic failure. When the Dark Lord sent me to Azkeban, they didnt just incarcerate me, they warped my reality. They tortured me. I had nothing left, but my heritage. Im pureblooded and I will see that my race survives. You are a threat to that reality. Your incompetence will destroy us. Lestrange seethed at his words and raised his wand. Podmore matched his actions, his own wand out. Another voice rang out behind Lestrange. Id put that down if I were you. Zacharias Smith had moved behind Narcissa and Lestrange, his own wand out, the arm shaking, but his intent still clear. Narcissas face was calm, her voice even. I see, the traitors to the Order of the Phoenix and Dumbledores Army are now traitors once again. She turned to Fudge, You are right, Cornelius, in one respect, I made horrific choices of personnel. Podmore and Smith are weak. Smiths voice railed at her words. I am not weak. Youve always underestimated me, Ma lfoy, just like Potter and his lackeys. Narcissa ignored his outburst and turned to the non-committed members. What of you three? Van Blut looked at Number Eight and then back at Narcissa. I vas sent to complete the task and assist the goot doctor. I do not care who ist in charge. Van Blut stood passively, not returning Narcissas gaze. And you? Narcissa looked at Number Eight who simply shrugged his shoulders, his cold Teutonic eyes had a measure of humor in the situation. Narcissa looked over at Number Six, Kerelenko. The tall, dark-haired Bulgarian smiled. Lets just say this is a test of your leadership. I wish to see how you handle it. Narcissa nodded and pulled her own wand. I guess we have no choice. She turned back to Fudge, ignoring the others. Cornelius, you will seriously regret this.

Fudge smiled. I doubt it, Narcissa. Zacharias, kill Lestrange. Smith hesitated slightly, the tip of his wand shaking. Zacharias Smith was a talker, not a doer. All his life hed managed to survive on bluster and bravado, but very little action. When the DA asked him to fight at Hogwarts, hed been the first to run. Now, he was at a decision point. Now, he had to act. Now, hed waited too long to do what he was asked. The spell hit his wand sending it flying across the room. What the hell is going on here? Ludo Bagman stood with Pansy in the corner of the room, his wand out and pointed at Sturgis and Fudge. Lestrange reacted savagely, sending out bolts of light that resolved into arrows which pierced Smiths shoulders and legs, pinning the hapless man to the wall in agony. Narcissa sent a curse that disarmed both Podmore and Fudge in one fell swoop. She approached them wordlessly. Fudge dropped to his knees, holding his hands together. Podmore stood erect, eyes blazing in defiance. Narcissa ignored the sniveling former Minister of Magic and focused her attention on Podmore. Sturgis, I have made mistakes, I admit that. My biggest is having invited this cretin into this Circle, but Ludos back. Look, hes holding the staff. Are you willing to see this through? Her eyes burned in fierce determination. Sturgis was surprised at her question. Slowly, he nodded. She reached out her hand and Sturgis wand flew across the room. Catching it, she handed it back to him. He bowed and walked over to stand with Kerelenko and Von Blut. She turned on her heel and raised her wand. A single withering blast of light reached out and struck Zacharias Smith in the chest. His body simply exploded in blinding blast of fire and light. He hadnt even had a chance to scream, he just ceased to exist. She turned back to the simpering, prone form of Cornelius Fudge. What are you going to do to me? Narcissa, I made a mistake. You n eed me, you need my connections! I can still be useful. Fudges voice was pleading, begging. For the first time since the attempted takeover, Narcissa Malfoy showed emotion. Her mouth curled in contempt. Rudolphus, be a dear and deal with the Minister. I think hes caused enough trouble. Lestrange smiled in wicked contemplation. He raised his wand and pointed it at Fudge. The former Minister of Magic began to rise off the ground, his body suspended in the air and his arms and legs stretched out wide. Slowly, as if four large winches were attached to his limbs, his body began to stretch. Fudge screamed in pain as his body was pulled in four different directions. A tearing sound was heard and Fudges screams became louder, unintelligible. As his body reached breaking point, a red, fiery light came from Fudges mouth and spread down the center of his body. With one final scream, the red light turned into an explosion, like a laser, tearing Fudges body in two pieces which disintegrated before they hit the ground. Cornelius Fudge was no more. Silence dominated the room. Finally, Ludo Bagman spoke up. What the devil is going on? Narcissa ignored his question. Did you get it? Did you get the staff? Yes. We lost McLaggen and Beniti, but we got it. He held up the staff for all to see. Narcissa smiled, looking almost beautiful, if not for the evil in her face. Excellent. We can proceed. We need to leave this place, they picked up Goyle so our security needs to be changed. She walked over to where Von Blut and Number Eight were standing. Are you ready? She put her hands on her hips and stared at Number Eight. For his part, he smiled. I have been waiting for this opportunity for a lifetime. All those years puzzling out why twins were such perfect duplicates of each other, all that time experimenting in the camps in the jungles of South America; I am ready.

Narcissa looked around at the remnants of the Circle. Youd better be ready. I was willing to dispatch a Minister of Magic, I have not qualms about getting rid of you. Are we clear, Dr. Mengele? Dr. Josef Mengele, expert in genetic cloning, holder of the Hitlers Knights Cross, butcher of the concentration camps and one of the darkest wizards in history just nodded his head and smiled. ***A/N: I made a slight error. Beniti was captured by Rons team. He was not at the coup. Chapter 133 The Chillingham Staff Hed been keeping extremely long hours, barely making it home for the past few days. With the capture of Goyles army and the apprehension of Beniti, their running count of the Circle members taken out of the equation had reached three. Dawlish was in the Office when the pair had been brought in. The previous interrogation of Savage had taken well over fourteen hours and when he saw Harrys weary face, Dawlish ordered his friend to go home and get some rest. At first, Harry resisted the notion, feeling the momentum of their investigation gathering speed, but his entire organization backed the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, refusing to talk to him and insisting that Harry get the rest he needed. Finally relenting on the promise that hed be contacted as soon as something broke, Harry gathered up his battered leather case and walked out the door. He arrived home via the floo. The front room which housed the hearth was still in its meeting configuration. It seemed like decades earlier, hed convened the meeting that brought his small investigatory team together. The revelation of Savages treachery had shaken Harry to the core. One of Harrys many stellar traits was his singular capacity for loyalty. Hed displayed that quality on countless occasions and yet, Harry had not been totally surprised at the outcome. In the back of his mind, his fathers blind loyalty to Peter Pettigrew had been a contributing factor to his and Lilys deaths. Somewhere, in the deep recesses of Harrys mind, there were truly, only a very few people he could trust. One of them walked into the room upon hearing his arrival. Small lines of exhaustion were barely visible along the edges of her eyes. Her flowing auburn tresses framed her exquisite porcelain face which glowed from her smile when she saw him. They stood and looked at each other from a distance. Her eyes danced with a twinkling light which seemed to bounce off the freckles that reminded Harry of their days at Hogwarts. She was dressed casually, with worn, comfortable jeans and a white buttoned blouse with the top few buttons undone. Her expression was one of happiness and relief, the strain of not knowing what was going on and if he was safe having been released in one fell swoop by his appearance back home. Her smile grew wider and they shared a simple gaze which communicated volumes: love, safety, and curiosity. They stepped to each other simultaneously, as if some shared signal indicated that physical contact was needed at that precise moment. Dropping his bag, he enveloped her in his arms and reached down to place a long, slow and soul-searching kiss on her lips. She reciprocated, reaching a hand up to the back of his head, drawing him closer to her with a passion born of happiness and love highlighted by the relief she felt at seeing him safe. When the eternity that was the kiss ended, they drew apart, breathless from the experience. He looked at her, his viridian eyes laced with a single question, which, intuitively, she knew. The kids are asleep. You can see them in the morning. She grasped his hand, a sly, coquettish smile on her face. In the morning? Hed finally found his voice. She nodded and pulled him towards the stairs leading up to their room.

They climbed the stairs and walked up to the door leading to their bedroom. She turned back to face him, her hair bouncing about her shoulders. In the morning. *** He opened his eyes and was surprised to find the morning sun streaming through the window of his bedroom. He rubbed them slightly and then reached an arm over to retrieve his glasses from the bedside table. Placing the spectacles on the bridge of his nose, he glanced over towards the large clock hanging from the wall and was surprised to find that hed slept in. Immediately, his thoughts flashed back to the Office and the interrogations taking place. Had he missed something? His momentary panic disappeared as the small patter of feet on the hard wood floors announced the imminent arrival of his oldest son, James. Harry leaned over the bed, intent on lifting his son up from the floor. James careened through the half-open door, running from the hallway into his room at full speed. Daddy! James gathered speed as he entered the room. Harry leaned over, arms outstretched to gather his son. Just before he reached his fathers arms, James gave a jump and flew in the air, up over Harrys head and landed squarely in the middle of his parents bed. James, no jumping on the furniture! Ginny entered the room, carrying Albus. Harry pulled himself up and hugged his son. He looked over at Ginny. When did that start? Ginny sighed. He discovered it a few days ago, but he has no fear. Kreacher said hes been leaping onto furniture and onto bookcases quite regularly. He got stuck atop the refrigerator yesterday. Harry let out a guffaw and tackled James, tickling his sons side. Stop it Daddy! James managed to yell through furious bouts of giggling. Harry relented and held out his arms to Ginny. She smiled and extended Albus to his father. Harry scooped up the growing toddler and swung him merrily onto the bed. Albus let out a happy giggle and stared at his father happily. Harry paused momentarily, as his younger sons green eyes locked with his own, matched like a perfect set, almost a younger reflection of himself. Ginny sat on the side of the bed and laid a hand on Harrys shoulder, understanding what he was seeing. When she looked at Albus, she saw her husband staring back at her. It was unnerving and exciting at the same time. Harrys reflection was interrupted when Jam es stood on the bed and jumped on his fathers back, bringing the Head of the Office Aurors back to the reality that both his sons required his attention at this time. Later, dressed and refreshed, Harry sat down at the kitchen table, sipping a hot cup of Kreachers coffee. Ginny walked in, dressed for work and joined him at the table. You let me sleep in. It was a statement, not a condemnation. In fact, Ginny detected a note of gratitude in her husbands voice. Dawlish told me to make sure you got some rest. He owled me this morning to tell me he and Lachlan would come here around ten to brief you on the interrogations. She gulped down some tea and leaned in to kiss him. Ive got to go in. Ive got an early interview with the coach of the Cannons.

Theyve become quite the powerhouse. Harry commented. The Chudley Cannons had been perennial losers, but over the past few years had improved exponentially, finally winning the league cup the previous year. Maybe. There was something in his wifes voice that caused Harry to look up. What is it? I think some of their players may have been taking a Felix Felicis potion. Harry thought back to the small draught hed won using Snapes potions textbook. The feeling had been extraordi nary. Felix potions were banned from use in athletic competitions. Ginnys accusation was serious. Thats a strong charge, Ginny. Ive got two sources and I found an old witch who is a potion mistress in York who will swear shes been making the stuff for years. It should be an interesting interview. She leaned down and kissed him once more. Im off. Ill see you tonight. With that, she hurried towards the floo. Within seconds, Harry heard the telltale sound of her departure. He reclined back and checked the battered pocket watch, a present from the Weasleys. He had a little over an hour before Dawlish and Lachlan arrived. He reached for another cinnamon roll and opened the Daily Prophet to read the latest news. In the background, he heard Kreachers voice echo from the landing up stairs. Master James! You must not jump onto the chandelier! *** The home was a nondescript copy of the others around it. Nestled in the heart of suburban London, it was barely distinguishable from those nearby. Inside the cramped living room of the house, the remaining members of the Circle gathered, still visibly shaken by the events of the previous day. They stood or sat wherever space allowed, focused on the slight figure of the aging blonde German in their midst. Mengele was in his element. For well over six decades, hed been trying to unlock the secrets of perfect genetic cloning. He was a wizard, true, but in his mind, he was a true scientist. While working the camps at Auschwitz and Bergen, he wasnt so much focused inflicting pain, but more on ensuring the survivability of his race. He wasnt an Aryan, but the Nazis offered him the resources to conduct his research. He had a particular fascination with identical twins, the closest thing that nature provided in cloning. If he hurt people along the way, what was the real impact? They were subhuman, not of the pure blood, so their pain was inconsequential. In retrospect, Mengele knew he could have saved himself a lot of effort had he decided to assist Hitlers war effort with his magic. After Hitlers defeat, Mengele had been on the run. The Allied Powers and later, the Israelis, dogged him for the past fifty years. Only after hed killed a simple farmer in Argentina and transmuted his likeness to the body, was it thought that he was dead and free to continue his research. Leclerc had stopped him from using magic in Hitlers name. Perhaps he had good reasons, but all in all, it had taken him more time to determine that he was missing a critical component to creating the perfect clone and propagating the pureblood lines of his race. The staff was the key. Its properties were the missing link in the equation. He knew that he needed a genetic map from a pureblooded donor, a sequence to follow, but an actual body was needed to create the clone. The problem was that the laws of both nature and magic prevented something to be built from nothing. The solution was to use the raw material provided by a subhuman, a mudblood. Today, with the staff, he had the opportunity to prove his hypothesis. What is this place? Bagman looked around the home, taking in the anachronistic, pre -World War Two era furnishings. A picture sat on the fireplace mantel showing a smiling man dressed in

black shorts and black shirt, with a red armband on his sleeve. The armband had a white circle and a black lightning bolt in the center of the circle. Who is this man? Mengele smiled, his piercing blue eyes almost wistful as memories flooded back to him. That is William Joyce, born in America, resident of Galway, Ireland and naturalized citizen of Germany. You might have heard of him as Lord Haw Haw. He performed English propaganda broadcasts for the Nazis. Before emigrating to Germany, he was a key member of the British Union of Fascists. That armband was their symbol. He was executed for treason by the crown after the war, even though he never was a British citizen. This is his house. No one ever claimed it. I use it from time to time. Narcissas face was impatient. What did you want to show us, Josef? Follow me. He led them towards the back of the house and up a flight of stairs to the second story. At the top of the stairs there was a hallway with four doors obviously leading to bedrooms. He walked to the far door and opened it, ushering them into the largest bedroom in the house. The furnishings had been removed, the walls painted an antiseptic white. The smell of ammonia and disinfectant attacked their noses immediately. In the center of the room were two gurneys. A man and a woman were strapped tightly to each. Both were gagged and their eyes displayed absolute terror. Speaking as if he were lecturing a university class, Mengele held out his arms, pointing to the man and woman. This is Agnes and John Sinclair. Mr. Sinclair is a muggle, a truck driver, I believe. He has no magical ability whatsoever. Agnes is a pureblooded witch. Unfortunately, she has taken to marrying a muggle, but we all make mistakes. As luck would have it, they came to visit my colleague, Dr. Von Blut, because they were having difficulty conceiving a child. How do you know the mudblood lover is pureblooded? Lestrange spoke for the first time, his eyes wild with hate, staring at the hapless Mr. Sinclair. Ah, I have performed extensive genetic testing on her DNA. She actually shares the same markers as the dearly departed Mr. Fudge. Somewhere down the line, they are related. He smiled, merely a friendly tour guide on the path to genetic hell. If I may have the staff? Narcissa nodded and handed the weather beaten wooden rod to Mengele, whose brilliant blue eyes glistened in anticipation. He could sense his salivary glands working on overdrive. He was so close to realizing his dream. He turned to face the couple and smiled. Dont worry, my dear. I am about to fulfill your greatest wish. You shall conceive a child. He nodded to Von Blut, who approached Mrs. Sinclair and drew blood from her arm into a glass syringe. Von Blut moved over to Mr. Sinclair and plunged the tip of the needle into his arm, forcing his wifes blood into his blood stream. Von Blut moved away from the couple. Now, watch. Mengele pointed the staff at John Sinclair. Effingo Penetralis! The amber encased mistletoe at the tip of the staff darkened into a black mist which shot from the tip of the staff and at John Sinclairs chest. Sinclair fought against his bindings, his muffled shouts emanating through his gag. His body grew rigid, tightening up as the black mist enveloped him. After a few seconds, he stopped screaming, stopped straining against the bindings. Eventually, the black mist returned to the staff, leaving John Sinclairs body. What remained on the gurney appeared to be an ash replica of the man who was there. It was gray, sooty, as if it had been set on fire and left perfectly preserved for posterity, much like the horrified remains of the inhabitants of Pompeii after the eruption of Mount Vesuvius. His arms were still bound to the gurney, frozen in his last moments of terror.

Mengele handed the staff back to Narcissa. The spectacle, while showy, had left her confused. Is that it? The doctor held up a finger to his lips and walked over to remains of John Sinclair. He reached over and picked up a reflex hammer from the instrument tray. He began to tap on the ash at different points on the body, cracking it open, like a walnut. When a big enough fracture had been made on the chest cavity, Mengele inserted his fingers into the crack and pried open the chest. He reached his hands inside and withdrew the struggling form of an infant. When the babys body hit the cool air, it began to cry out loud. Mengele held the baby aloft and then turned to face Agnes Sinclair. Congratulations, its a girl! Tears streamed down her face, the shock of the events causing her to gag at the thought of her husbands death. Mengele held the baby out in front of him. Ill need to run some tests, to see the extent of the purity. I have a feeling that I may not have mixed the serum to the proper consistency. Serum? Narcissa did not remember a serum being used. Yes, there is a blood dominance serum that we use in the syringe we drew the blood with. If its not right, the pureblooded DNA does not dominate. Of course, my tests may harm the child, and Agnes here may not survive the procedure as well, but science requires that I be thorough in my experimentation to get it right. Besides, if I get this right, notice the benefit, we get a pureblooded baby and discard a muggle or mudblood body. Its a win-win situation. He shrugged his shoulders apologetically. What do you need from us? Narcissa hid her own revulsion, yet knew that this was the only way that Leclerc wanted things accomplished, short of genocide. Why, more raw material would be of immense help. I need more muggles and possible a couple of pureblooded volunteers. Soon, Ill have everything correct and then we can see how we mass produce the effect. Within weeks, there will be nothing but purebloods in England. As the Mengele laughed in triumph, he failed to notice the look of horror on one set of eyes. One more member of the Circle was contemplating treason.

Chapter 134 Conscience

Dawlish and Lachlan arrived on the stroke of ten. Harry quickly ushered them into the study, where the three took seats around the ornate conference table Kreacher had somehow managed to conjure. Harry felt and looked thoroughly refreshed, the exhaustion of the past few weeks having been worn away by sleep and quality time with his family. Kreacher left a piping hot carafe of coffee and an assortment of pastries and then shut the double doors to the foyer behind him. Harry took a sip of his coffee and looked at his friends around the table. So, what do we have? Harry watched as Lachlan laid out a large sheet of vellum, with several boxes etched on it. Well, from what we can determine, we know who all of the members of the conspiracy. Lachlan pointed to the top box. Narcissa Malfoy is the leader. This Circle tried to maintain a certain amount of anonymity among its members, but based on previous relationships, certain members were familiar with who some of the others were. We were able to piece together who is involved through the interrogations of the prisoners and from Rons encounter at Loch Ness.

Harry looked down at the sheet as Lachlan began to go through the roster. There are fourteen of them, aligned in a hierarchical structure. Number One is Narcissa Malfoy. Number Two will surprise you though, its Rudolphus LeStrange. Lachlan watched as Harrys eyes grew wide. LeStrange? How the hell did he get out of Azkeban? Harry stared incredulously at Dawlish and Lachlan. Since Voldemorts fall, Azkebans security had been cha nged radically and drastically. The permanent garrison was comprised of Aurors whod taken Unbreakable Vows to ensure their loyalty. There were sphinxes guarding its grounds and the prisoners themselves were disassociated from each other, never allowed to interact, not even allowed to refer to themselves by name. That will become self-evident as we go down the list. Dawlish spoke up and nodded to Lachlan to continue. Right. Number Three is Cornelius Fudge. Again, Lachlan paused allowing Harry to digest the information. Fudge? Hes a fool but a party to murder and conspiracy? I didnt think he had it in him. I thought he was busy writing his memoirs to wash out the stain of his tenure as Minister? Harry felt a certain ache of anxiety flow over him. Lachlan continued, Number Four was quite a blow. Its Sturgis Podmore. Silence hung over the room as Harry felt the weight of the revelation. Sturgis? A member of the Order? What the devil was he thinking? Wait, so thats how LeStrange got out of Azkeban. Awareness dawned on Harry as the implications grew direr. Sturgis Podmore was the chairman of the Ministrys Administrative Oversight Board for the prison at Azkeban. In that role, he would be able to issue writs that released prisoners from captivity. Have we checked the prisoner rolls to see if anyone else has been released? Dawlish nodded. Yes, that was our first order of business. Apparently LeStrange was the only one not accounted for. Why LeStrange? If Narcissa had access to someone with Podmores access, why didnt she spring her husband? Lachlans question was valid, the Malfoys were notorious for their mutual family loyalty and Lucious seemed to be the more probable candidate for release. Lucious is classified as a special circumstances prisoner. He has dedicated guards and only a release presented by the Minister or Dawlish, in person, can be used to have him paroled. Plus, hed be terribly hard to hide, especially around Malfoy Manor. I doubt very seri ously he and Draco would allow themselves to have a warm father/son moment. Harrys mind drifted back to the encounter at Cape Wrath between Lucious and Draco. It had not been pleasant. Im almost afraid to hear more. Nonetheless, Harry prompted Lac hlan to continue. Well, the rest, you pretty much know through our intelligence and our previous encounters. We have Savage, Goyle and Beniti in custody. Ron and Hermione fought Ludo Bagman, Cormac McLaggen and Pansy Parkinson at Loch Ness. McLaggen was killed in the fight. Aside from Beniti, we know about Kerelenko, Von Blut and one other foreigner in the mix. That leaves the last, which we pulled from Goyle to be Zacharias Smith. Lachlan sat back and watched Harrys reaction.

Smith? Theres a member of Dumbledores Army. The disappointment in Harrys voice was hard to disguise. Dawlish spoke up. Not really Harry, from what I hear, Smith was never a member in good standing. There was very little he could give them in that regard. Harry nodded his thanks and stared at the list again. Do we have any idea who this last foreigner is? Dawlish and Lachlan shared guarded glances with each other. Worry lines crept on to the old Scotsmans brow while Dawlish began his nervous habit of running his hands through his salt and pepper hair. What is it? Harry leaned forward. Well, we had a breakthrough with Beniti. It seems that none of the English members knew this man except Narcissa. We went back to Mortimers question, what role did Von Blut play? Lachlan rifled through some papers. He didnt know who the mysterious player was, but he knew Von Blut. Her expertise was magical DNA and blood sera, so we backtracked her history and found something interesting. She attended the Essen Internasschule die Hexerei, the Essen School of Magic. The school specializes in producing healers and researchers. Now, look who was an instructor there, when she was a student. Lachlan had produced a leather bound book. It was an annual, something produced with class photos from the year Von Blut completed her schooling. In the faculty pictures, labeled as Healing Arts instructor, there was a thin, blonde haired man, smiling, with his arm around an obviously younger version of Von Blut. The mans name was typed in bold, Teutonic lettering. Herr Doktor Professor Josef Mengele. Mengele? Youre serious? For as evil and horrid a reputation Mengele had in the muggle world, his vileness was even more notorious among wizards. Harrys mind whirl ed at the danger that they were in. Mengele was known for his fascination with cloning, on propagating the wizard race through perfect copies. The subjects of his experiments rarely survived the procedure. I thought he was dead. His body was found in South America, right? It has never been confirmed. Lachlans answer struck Harry to the bone. With the power of the staff, he can complete his work and kill off muggleborns and half -bloods, cant he? Harry stood and began to pace. What if he can do it on a massive scale? There was no real need to articulate the consequences. Harry turned to face them. Right, weve got to find these people. I take it none of these people have been sighted since weve been apprehending their accomplices? Lachlan spoke up. No, but we do have a list of safe houses and meeting locations that we culled from our prisoners. Those are probably dead ends, but we have to start somewhere. We need to find these people. Harry allowed himself a shudder. We need to catch a break. *** Draco Malfoy concentrated on the ledger in front of him. The numbers were looking good for the first quarter of the year. He sat in the second story office located in one of his warehouses of his shipping and retail business. His head began to hurt a little, so he sat back and stared out his

window. Malfoy had grown taller since his days at Hogwarts. His skin was ashen almost drowning out the golden hue of his combed back hair. He ran his fingers over the top of his head and noticed that his widows peak seemed to be slowly creeping upward on his forehead. The past few weeks had been a strain for Draco as his wife became more consumed with her work in the Wizengamot and his mother had taken to disappearing for long periods of time. There was no doubt that Domina was not a particularly warm person, in fact, Draco knew she was especially cold when it came to matters of the heart. Nonetheless, even with knowing how incompatible they were, he loved her. Lately, Dracos greatest joy had come from spending time with Scorpius. He was growing steadily every day, and he found himself often coming home early in order to spend time with him. Domina wasnt what Draco considered a loving mother. In fact, the only real notion of motherhood that Domina apparently had was a shared name with her son. That particular character trait puzzled Draco. Despite their failings, his parents had always been committed to keeping the integrity of their family intact. Narcissa had defied the Dark Lord to keep her son alive. Draco saw no such comportment in his wife. He did not see any of his mother in his wife, which, he thought, was a shame. His mind switched tacks. Where had his mother been? As he contemplated matters of family and love, a small tapping drew his attention to the door. He looked up. Come in. Hello, Draco. The voice was quiet, pensive, almost fearful. Dracos eyes widened as a mop of dark hair and a puckish face entered his office. Pansy? Pansy Parkinson. Its been a long time. Draco stood and ushered her in. He pointed to one of the chairs in front of his desk. Gratefully, she sat and watched as Draco took the seat next to her. Its good to see you, Pansy. What brings you by? Pansy hesitated, her eyes thrown down to the floor. Draco was puzzled. Hed not seen Pansy since Hogwarts. In fact, he hadnt really thought about her since then. He didnt keep up with his old chums from school, save for the occasional drink with Nott, but even he had disappeared from sight. Pansy, for her part, had been completely infatuated with Draco, drawn by his charisma and a mutual loathing for all things Gryffindor, especially Harry Potter. Draco began to become impatient, shed sat silent for quite a while. Listen, Pansy, I really have to get back to work. Is there something I can help you with? It was a perfunctory question, but he was curious why she was there. Its about your mother, Draco. Her voice shook, afraid of talking, yet terrified of not. What about my mother? A small chill struck the back of Dracos neck. He did not believe in coincidences. Its just, well, its just thatshe recruited me to join an organization she runs. Pansy desperately searched for the words. In school, Draco was notoriously defensive of his family. What, some sort of charity? Ive never heard of anything, so what? Dracos curiosity was getting the better of him. Her frustration began to show. For a moment, she thought about simply leaving, but the image of what had occurred in Mengeles house seared in her brain. Shed not been able to sleep. She took a deep breath, as the dam burst. She poured out everything about the Circle. The membership, what theyd done, the loss of McLaggen, Smith and Fudge , it all poured out as a visibly shocked Draco listened quietly. When she got to talking about Mengele, she spoke rapidly, unable to contain her tears.

Draco processed the information. She had completed her narrative a few minutes earlier and he added the events hed witnessed to its context. The holes just made sense to him. He rose and paced about the office. Would it never end? Why would they select Pansy? Maybe she was lying to him. He drew his wand and pointed it at her. What is this? Who put you up to this? His anger was visible, his eyes ablaze. She didnt cringe nor cower from his venom. In fact, she seemed accepting of his anger and disbelief. I didnt want to believe it myself. I didnt think it would come to this, Draco, I just She halted, unable to continue. Just what, Pansy? The tip of Dracos wand dipped slightly. Its just that I never got over you. I thought we would be together. When your mother approached me, I thought that this would be a way for me to get close to you. I thought if she were involved, she would involve you. He reacted as if hed been struck with a fist. He settled down into his chair. He wasnt so much concerned with her revelation of her feelings for him. They were of no matter to him, hed felt nothing for Pansy, really, ever, but her statement struck him. Why hadnt his mother approached him? Why had she excluded him? The answer struck him hard. If half of what Pansy had told him were true, he wouldnt have gone along with his mothers plan. Somewhere, somehow, hed changed fundamentally. He was a pureblood, that was true, but his hatred for all others had gone, washed away by his engagement with the Dark Lord and, though he was loathe to admit it, by his interactions with Harry Potter. Maybe his mother knew that hed never abide by such a horrific action. Maybe she held what he did to his father against him. Regardless, there was no way Draco could have ever joined the Circle. What should I do? The real reason for her visit came to light. For the first time since hed known her, Draco actually felt a little sorry for Pansy Parkinson. He looked at her, his expression relatively blank, hiding the turmoil in his soul. Do nothing. Run away, Pansy. Get as far away from here as possible. Thats the best advice I can give you. He stood, indicating that the meeting was over. She stood and nodded, daubing the last of her tears from her eyes. I understand. She turned to leave, wanting to say more, but unable to find the words. Good bye, Draco. He stared at her and nodded. She turned to leave, and walked right into the tall figure of Domina Malfoy, who was standing in the hall. Pansy excused herself and walked past Domina. Draco was surprised to see his wife. How long have you been standing there? Draco stared at his wife, wondering how much shed heard. Ive only just arrived. Her voice was haughty, distant. If youre going to have dalliances, Draco, do try to find someone more attractive. Draco laughed out loud. Only you would not be bothered if your husband cheated on you, Domina. Youre biggest concern is that he cheat with someone worthwhile. You are quite a piece of work. For your information, Im not cheating on you. Its my luck that I hap pen to love you very much, for whatever thats worth. Domina raised an eyebrow at him. Pity. Anyway, I came to tell you that I am joining a Wizengamot delegation to Xanadu. I will be leaving for a ten day trip to consult with our allies

about this pureblood foolishness. I was hoping that someone of your breeding would care about the future of your race. Draco walked behind his desk and started putting on his coat. Have a pleasant trip, Domina. You might consider this. She looked at him, her face showing the first signs of uncertainty, his attitude taking her by surprise. There are worse things in this world than muggles and mudbloods. He smiled once more and shouldered past her out the door. She stood alone, stunned at his response. *** He walked into Malfoy Manor and strode directly up the grand staircase. He made directly for Scorpius room and found Mary Riordan tidying up quietly. How is he, Mrs. Riordan? She turned, surprised to see Draco so early in the day. Hes napping, Master Draco. Hes had another tooth break through, so I decided to allow him to sleep a little longer so he wouldnt be too uncomfortable. Draco nodded and walked silently to the crib near the large, picture window. Scorpius lay on his back, his face peaceful, without worry. A small part of Dracos heart melted at the sight. Gently, he placed his hand on his sons head and smiled. Turning away, he faced the woman whod helped raise him and now was caring for his son. Is my mother in? She nodded. Draco turned to leave and stopped short of the door. Mrs. Riordan? She looked up, ready to answer whatever question he had. Instead, he smiled, the first smile shed seen directed at her from Draco since he was a toddler. Thank you. Thank you for everything. He turned and left the nursery, firm in the knowledge his son was in good hands. *** Draco approached the second floor study, the place her mother spent most of her time at home. Itd been converted into an office of sorts, where she conducted her affairs around the various charities shed been supporting. He walked in the room to find her seated in front of the fireplace, reading a rather large book. Hello, mother. Draco, darling. What are doing home so early? She closed the book and allowed him to place a gentle kiss on her cheek. I wanted to see you. You havent been around lately. I know, Ive been so busy with my charities. Domina works in the Wizengamot and I work the private circles to ensure these absurd changes to the law dont happen. She didnt notice him wince when she said circle; the irony was too rich for him. He sat down in a plush, high backed chair, opposite his mother. He crossed his legs and looked at her. Mother, what is the Circle? Her sharp intake of breath and hesitation told him that Pansy had been right. It hurt him. No matter what his mother said, he knew she was involved. She had to make a stab at denial. I dont know what you mean, Draco. Mother, we are way past deception here. What is the Circle? He was forceful, focused.

She sighed. I cant tell you, Draco. Just know everything I do is to save our race, to save you and to save your son. Dont. You dont have the right to bring Scorpius into this. Didnt you learn a nything from the experience with the Dark Lord? Didnt you learn anything from fathers mistake? If you think that I would condone what youre doing, you are sadly mistaken mother. You apparently dont know much about me, just like father. Whatever sadness hed been feeling about confronting his mother had been wiped away by her attempt to somehow link her actions with Scorpius. His son was the focal point of his life. You dont want to do anything rash, Draco. Whatever happens, will happen. I can not change it. Dont endanger your family, dont endanger Scorpius by interfering. If you do nothing, nothing will happen to you or us. He rose. Shed done it again. Not overtly, but shed gone made an implicit threat against his son, her grandson. I see your point, mother. Youre advice is sound, given what weve been through. Uncle Rudolphus wasnt paroled, was he? She shook her head, another element of Pansys story was confirmed. Well then, thats that. Is there any way to stop whatever youve set in motion, mother? No, Draco. The wheels are turning. Just stay out of it, for me. Draco nodded and walked towards the door. Again, shed taken the wrong tack. He wouldnt stay out of it. Hed do something, and not for her, but for the sake of his son. His familys stain would not cover Scorpius. He would see to that, but Draco Malfoy was a Slytherin, clever, deceptive. He turned to his mother, just before he strolled out the door. For you, mother. *** Ginny left the Diagon Alley office of the Daily Prophet. Shed just filed her explosive story. The coach of the Chudley Cannons had broken down when confronted with her evidence. Come morning, the story would be on the front page. A small part of her brain reflected on how Ron would react. She resolved to go see him before he read it in the paper. As she proceeded down the Alley, she stopped at one of the stands that dotted the area. She had a weakness for the fountain drinks the vendor sold. Standing in line, she purchased one and began to walk. She did not notice the man who approached her. He walked up behind her and grabbed her arm. Keep walking. The voice was menacing, urgent. Her mind began to search avenues of escape, but the grip on her arm was tight. She followed the mysterious mans instructions. He guided her towards an alley where crates and boxes were piled up, creating a space hidden from view of the main walking area. He pushed her behind the boxes, releasing her arm. She spun around and found herself looking into the pale blue eyes of Draco Malfoy. Draco, what the devil are you doing? Her initial fear dissipated. Draco stared at her. I need to talk to Potter, Ginny. Its urgent I talk to him. A look of understanding crept onto her face. Is this about the Circle, Draco? He simply nodded and reached into the pocket of his overcoat. He pulled out a slip of paper and handed it to her.

Ask him to meet me here, at midnight. Tell him to come alone. Draco turned to leave. Why are you doing this, Draco? Why are you willing to talk to Harry? She knew, right away, that it wasnt a trap. Something was different about Draco Malfoy. You remember what you told me back when my father was captured? He saw her nod slightly. You said that I still had a chance to change. I still had a chance to live a different life, to love and be loved. He swallowed and continued. I have a son. I will not make the same mistakes as my father did. My son will have love and he will have a lif e. Im not doing this for me or for you or even for Potter. Im doing this for my son. Tell Potter to be there on time. If hes one minute late, I will be gone. Draco Malfoy spun on his heel and left Ginny standing there speechless, the small slip of paper gripped tightly in her hand. Chapter 135 Reunion and Consequences The hallway at the top of the stairs was dark, the doors of all four rooms closed. Narcissa Malfoy stood at the top of the landing trying to ignore the sounds that emanated from the door at the far end of the hall. She jumped momentarily as the door was flung open, revealing the figure of Josef Mengele to her. The Circles Number Eight had flushed cheeks and beads of perspiration streamed down his balding face. His eyes were a wild azure displaying his obvious excitement. He was dressed in a crisp, white hospital smock and pants with a reflective circular glass hanging from a band around his head. Seeing Narcissa, he strode over confidently. We are so close, Number One. Ive almost got the serum perfected. I need another test subject. He was rubbing his hands together, the excitement of realizing his greatest discovery causing his voice to quicken. That is good, herr doctor. However, I will not subject another pureblood to this. You will have to make do with the blood you draw from Mrs. Sinclair. Inside, her stomach was turning, her recent conversation with her son turning over in her mind. That is unfortunate, but I understand. When can you get me another muggle or mudblood? Better yet, can you retrieve one of each? It will make the experiment more certain. He eyed her carefully. Narcissa hesitated for a moment and he noticed her reluctance. He drew closer to her face. Need I remind you that the reports on my experiments get forwarded on to our friend in Xanadu? Narcissa Malfoy was a Black. She was not easily intimidated and she felt her anger begin to rise inside her, tamping down the bile in her throat. Her hand came up and she placed her wand against Mengeles neck. The tip began to glow a fiery red and the doctors perspiration began to stream faster down his head. Arcs of pain shot down Mengeles neck through his body, radiating from the menacing glow of Narcissas wand. Do not presume to threaten me, Mengele. I know precisely who you work for and where the reports go. I will not be intimidated. You need test subjects? You will get them. Cross me again, and it will be the last thing you do. She whipped the wand down, leaving a glaring welt on his neck. He rubbed the spot with his hand and watched as she wheeled around and walked down the stairs. Narcissa walked into the living room of Mengeles house. The Circle was meeting to determine their next course of action. Since the events that had led to the capture of several of their

members, the remnants of the Circle had decided to go into hiding individually. Today, they were meeting at an agreed upon time. Narcissa had been in the house for almost two hours, coordinating and planning with individual members. The screams from the rooms upstairs had just stopped, but still echoed in her head. For now, Mengele had made do with conducting his tests on Mrs. Sinclair, but now, more than likely, he would be demanding more fodder for his experiments. Todays meeting would be about how to secure appropriate candidates. Entering the room, she glanced around, taking a mental roll call of the attendees. She almost started the meeting, but something was nagging at the back of her mind. She took one more look about the room and stopped short. Where is Pansy? She spoke to them all at once, while staring at Lestrange. No one answered. Theyd been relatively incommunicado for the past few days and no one had seen nor heard from the fourteenth member of their group. Podmore spoke up. I havent heard anything about her being apprehended. Narcissa nodded and looked over at Lestrange who left the room. After a few minutes, he returned with a small globe and set it on the coffee table in the center of the room. Narcissa drew her wand and whispered a brief incantation. The globe began to spin on its axis until it came to stop at a point directly beneath her wand. A smoky number fourteen hovered over a spot on the globe. The spot was in the middle of the area marked as Canada. Specifically over the city of Toronto. Narcissa pursed her lips, her eyebrows furrowed. We can not afford any more mistakes. She passed the wand over the number fourteen. Terminus! The wispy num ber fourteen broke up in the air and whisked away into nothingness. Narcissa turned back to the group. The first item on our agenda is to discuss the need for additional test subjects for Doctor Mengele. *** The Four Seasons Hotel rose above the Toronto skyline, in the shadow of the massive spire of the CN Tower. It was late in the evening and the weary traveler slept soundly in one of the suites high on the twentieth floor. Luggage was strewn about the room, haphazardly tossed there by the occupant of the room after a long transatlantic flight. A deep orange moon cast an eerie glow through a small opening in the drapes. The amber light shone on the largest suitcase in the center of the room. The room was silent, save for the steady breathing of the sleeper. The moonlight changed in timbre from the warm orange glow to a bloody red. Slowly, the zipper on the front pocket of the suitcase began to move, opening as if of its own volition. A small tuft of cloth began to filter out of the compartment and file out onto the floor. Eventually, the entire article of clothing was splayed out in the middle of the room. If the sleeper had looked out from the bed, they would have seen the pleated, silky form of a fine wizards robe. The material of the robe fluttered and melted into a semi-liquid state. Once its transformation was complete, the amorphous robe began to trickle across the floor of the hotel suite. Its migration was slow, methodical, like a python stalking its prey in the jungle. Once it reached the foot of the bed, a sleeve slid up the side and onto the surface of large king size bed. The smooth, flowing edge of the sleeve edged its way alongside the body of the sleeping figure on the bed. It slithered up the length of the person until even with the head. The liquid, mercurylike tendril slid underneath the neck of the sleeping figure, slowly wrapping around it until meeting itself on the other side. Ever so slowly, the liquid started to harden into its original cloth state, the end knotted around itself. The sleeping figure stirred, eyes fluttering open. Realizing that the cloth around the neck started to constrict, the person began to pull frantically at the living sleeve.

Eyes bulging from the deprivation of oxygen, the person stared frantically at the top of the sleeve wrapped around her neck. A golden, embroidered number fourteen stared back at her. After a few seconds fighting the cloth, a disembodied voice rang in Pansy Parkinsons ear. Somewhat detached from the fact that her life was slowly being squeezed out of her body, she glanced to the source of the voice. Her white theatre mask hovered in the air just above the bed. Narcissa Malfoys voice echoed in the room. No one betrays the Circle, Pansy. Pansy struggled against the garrote around her neck. I didnt betray you. The mask seemed to smile. Then you wont be given the opportunity. Pansy watched as the mask dropped to the bed and the crimson robe from the Circle began pull tighter. The edges of her vision began to dim. Every effort to draw a breath became harder and harder. She knew she was fighting a losing battle. In the end, she managed one last word. The sound was a gurgle whisper, but had anyone been in the room, it would have been clear. Draco. The word came out and then Pansy Parkinson died, alone in a hotel suite, thousands of miles from home, one more victim of the Circle. *** A heavy overcast sky hovered over the tall, foreboding promontory that rose up from the depths of the North Sea. A sharp finger of land stretched out into the pounding surf, daring the cascading waters to reclaim it from whence it came. The thunder drowned out the sound of disapparition as an ebon robed figure appeared at the base of a long, arched land bridge connecting the mainland to the craggy peak that seemed to hover over the ocean. Cape Wrath yelled in defiant anger to the man while the frozen temperatures caused him to tighten the collar of his robe, revealing the bright silver shield on his chest. Harry looked up at the menacing citadel on top of the northern peak of Cape Wrath and began the slow walk to its gates. Harry glanced around him as he picked his way through the overgrown gorse whose thorns picked at the edges of his robes. Confidently, he walked up to the front gates of the old, gray citadel, at least to where the gates used to be. Years earlier, hed destroyed those gates in his efforts to rescue Ginny from the clutches of Lucious Malfoy. He walked through the opening and glanced up at the shattered dome above. Harry smiled as he remembered his changed Patronus had literally rent almost a score of Dementers into shreds. The open room was overgrown with weeds and ivy. A platform stood in front of him with two granite staircases on either side. He approached the staircase to his right and started climbing slowly. He reached the top of the stairs and walked to the center of the platform. His eyes drifted to the pair of rusty manacles hanging from the wall. It had been here that Ginny had been held, captured to lure Harry to his death. This was place he realized hed changed. Hed made the right career choice as an Auror. Harry glanced along the wall until he found the small opening he was looking for. He ducked down and entered the dark passageway. He followed the corridor, remembering chasing after Lucious Malfoy. He reached the balcony at the end of the passage. He walked to the end of the ledge, which overlooked the precipitous drop to the deadly sea below. Harry pulled out his beaten, used pocket watch. It was just approaching midnight. From the end of the balcony, he heard the light tapping of footsteps coming near. He turned to the sound of the steps and spotted the man he was here to meet. Hello, Draco. Potter.

Harry approached Draco and the two met near the edge of the balcony, ignoring the dizzying height and raging sea. Draco wore a heavy wool overcoat with a black muffler wound around his neck. Fine, lambskin gloves covered his hands yet despite the warmth of his clothing, he shivered in the penetrating gloom of the night. Seemingly agitated, Draco dropped his hands into the pockets of his coat and stared out towards the invisible horizon. Harry watched him for a moment and then turned to face out to the sea. You called this meeting, Malfoy. What is it you want? Draco whipped his head towards Harry, a sneer clearly plastered on his face. Its not what I want, Potter, its what I have to tell you. Fair enough. What is it you have to say? My wife said something about the Circle. I know your mother is leading it. Harry kept his voice even, pushing down his feeling about Malfoy from the past. Yes, she is. Before I tell you what I know, however, you have to agree to one condition. Dracos eyes carried back out to the ocean, as if he were staring at something over the horizon, something far away and unseen. There is no way Ill agree to letting her off the hook, Draco. Shes crossed a line that we can not ignore. At the very least, shes going to spend the rest of her life on Azkeban. Harrys voice was stern, unwavering. I know, Im not asking that. Im asking you to try to capture her alive and that when she does go to Azkeban, that she be allowed to see my father from time to time. I know about the isolation they keep prisoners in up there. I want her and my father to have time together. Dracos shoulders slumped slightly, his anguish starting to overtake him. I cant promise you that. I dont have that type of power. Harry stared incredulously at Draco. Dracos shoulders cinched back up and he spoke with venom dripping from voice. Dont give me that. Youre the great Harry Potter, arent you? Hero of the people. You mean to tell me that if you wanted something, you couldnt get it? Youre part of the Weasley Family Ministry, arent you? Youd better get it done. Ill try. Not good enough, I want your word, Potter. My word? Dracos contempt oozed from every pore of his body. I want the word of the great Harry Potter. I want your word that my condition will be met, no matter what. The both grew silent, staring at each other, hate and loathing leaping the chasm between them, pale blue eyes locked with emerald eyes. After a few moments, Harry nodded. You have my word. Draco exhaled audibly, uneasy that his relief was so apparent. Done. What have you got?

Youre right, my mother is in charge of the Circle, but theres something more. Im sure youve figured out most of the members and you kno w about the Chillingham Staff. Harry nodded, but remained silent. Well, did you know about Mengele? Draco allowed a certain amount of disgust to filter through as he said Mengeles name. We only found out about him recently. We werent sure, but now youve confirmed it, why? Harry felt his own dread rising. Draco outlined the conversation hed had with Pansy, how shed detailed how the staff worked, what was needed to produce a pureblood child. If you look into it, youll find that a John and Agnes Sinclair are missing. Harry felt his knees buckling at Dracos description. The news was bad enough when looked at in terms of a few people here or there, but the implication for widespread use was staggering. Harry was born of a muggle mother, which meant that his own children would be classified as mudbloods. Do you know where they are? Where can we find them? Harry resolved himself to stopping the Circle. Pansy said that the house used to belong to an old Nazi sympathizer, William Jo yce. You should be able to find it by looking him up. Harry nodded and watched as Draco continued. I told Pansy to run away, get away from them. If you find her, go easy on her. She was stupid, not evil. Harry looked back out towards the sea, his mind reeling with the information hed heard. Ginny told me why youre doing this, Draco. For what its worth, thank you. Coming from you, Potter, it means absolutely nothing. Im not your ally or your friend. I have my reasons and Im using you to achieve my own ends. Do not mistake my self interest for some reconciliation. I hold you partially responsible for the state my family is in. Perhaps if you had not done what you did, my parents would still be together. Maybe my family would still be whole. Maybe my mother would not have been pushed where she is today. Draco looked back towards the opening in the wall, remembering what hed had to do to his father. I see, Draco. Youre saying I should have allowed the Dark Lord to win. Well, needless to say, Im glad I didnt. Ginny was right, you have a chance at a life here, dont blow it. Still, thanks for this. They remained silent, standing together looking over the edge of the cliff. So close, yet miles apart. Draco soon stopped his brooding. It started here, you know. It seemed like he was almost talking to himself, as if Harry werent there. It was on this spot that I chose the path Im on. I betrayed my father, who had betrayed me. At the time, I thought I was fulfilling the life debt I owed you, but it was more than that. I was becoming a man. All I want is that my son doesnt have to make the choice that I had to make. I dont want him to have to hate me. Harry couldnt be sure, but it seemed like Draco was choking up. Draco, I have to ask one more thing. Harry gave Malfoy time to compose himself. Is your wife involved with this?

Malfoys face snapped back towards Harry. Unconsciously, Dracos hand moved towards the wand in his pocket. Domina is many things, Potter, but she is not a part of this. The issue isnt that black and white. Shes against these absurd laws that Granger insists on changing, but even Domina would not stoop to this level. You leave her out of this. Fair enough, but I had to ask. Harry turned to leave, his footsteps echoing on the flagstones. He stopped momentarily as Dracos voice rang out to him. Theres something bigger than the Circle, Potter. Theres something out there that my mother is even afraid of. I tried to give her an out, but she was frightened out of her mind. Be mindful, the last person to put that amount of fear in my mother was the Dark Lord himself. The words echoed on the cold stone ramparts. Harry hesitated briefly and walked into the tunnel, back towards the citadel entrance. Draco Malfoy remained, his face staring out over the North Sea, trying vainly to find the speck of light that was Azkeban, the place where his parents would hopefully be reunited. The only response he heard was the roar of thunder and the flash of lightning as a squall made its way towards him.

*** Once Goyle and his thugs had been apprehended, a sense of calm began to settle over Vendira Avenue. Most of the boarded up shops had reopened and a sense of normality began to filter over the area. Steven Grover was born to a muggle father, but his mother was a witch. His own powers had manifested themselves relatively late in life. He was an older man, approaching sixty, but his light brown hair had barely a tint of gray. He owned a stand that specialized in second-hand brooms, which he refurbished and re-sold at a decent rate. It was growing late and he was closing up his stand for the evening. Tonight, like most nights, he was one of the last vendors to close down, given his penchant for working later to finish some of the customizations he was becoming known for. Satisfied that his stand was locked up, he began the slow walk towards the entrance at Parliament Street. He walked upright, confidently. Every so often, he got the impression that he heard footsteps behind him. He turned and stared around him, but saw no sign of anyone there. As he approached the end of the street, he felt the familiar anxiety that came with leaving. He despised the narrow confines of Parliament Street. The enclosed nature of the brick walls gave him a slight sense of claustrophobia. Still, it was the only way home, so he bore it as best he could. He stepped through the portal and found himself in the cramped alley that was Parliament Street. Looking either way, he started down the corridor-like path, his broad shoulders almost touching either wall. He heard the tell-tale sound of someone exiting from Vendira Avenue. He looked back, but saw no one in the light of the single light bulb hanging above the portal. A growing sense of unease added to his discomfort with tight spaces. He turned to walk down the street, and out into the open air. Up ahead of him, the figure of a man stood at the entrance to the street. Normal etiquette dictated that the man hold fast, allowing someone transiting the alley to come out before entering. As Grover neared the exit, the man at the entrance started walking towards him. Grover was about to yell at the man, asking him to wait, but something in his manner frightened him. The mysterious figure kept coming towards him. Grover stopped and turned around, intent on retreating the other way. As he neared the entrance to Vendira Avenue, the image of another man, someone whod been under a disillusionment charm, began to resolve itself in front of him. If the figure behind him was menacing, the man standing in front of him was down right terrifying. He was tall and wore a blood-red robe and a white theatre mask, the number two embroidered on his sleeve.

Gripped with fear, Grover pulled out his wand, his hand shaking as stole a quick glance behind him and saw the figure approaching was similarly clad as the man in front, except with the number five on his sleeve. S-s-stop right there! Dont come any closer! There wasnt an ounce of firmness in Grovers voice. His claustrophobia and his real danger sapped his resolve. The mouth beneath the number two mask smiled and raised his wand. The spell cast sent Grovers wand flying into the air and behind him. The man in the number five robe sent another spell, paralyzing Grover in place. The sneering voice of Rudolphus Lestrange penetrated Grovers skull. Steven Grover. You have been selected to participate in a very exciting medical study. Youre sacrifice will provide the wizarding world with the key to our future! Lestrange let out an evil, threatening cackle that turned into a full out laugh. For his part, Steven Grover could not move, could not speak. In the back of his mind, he fixated on one word in his captors speech. What did the man mean by using the word sacrifice? There was no one to answer him as they the three men apparated away into the night.

Chapter 136 The Assault The Office of Aurors was a hive of activity as Hit Team members and Aurors prepared themselves to take out the Circle. All around, wizards and witches were donning anything from pieces of goblin armor to the latest releases from Weasleys Wheezes Defense Arts Collection. Harry strode through the center of the cubicle farm, offering a word of encouragement to his Aurors. As he made his way through the room, Williamson walked in at a brisk pace. Harry turned to the team leader as the crimson robed Auror strode up to him. What have you got? We found the house, Harry. Sarah and Silas are under disillusionment at the rear of the house and Manchester and Leonora have the front. Theres movement inside, mostly confined to one of the rooms on the second floor. Cavendishs team has started setting up spells around the house to block any muggles from seeing our entry. Williamson finished his report and looked at his leader expectantly. Good, go on and head back. Well be right behind you. Make sure you keep your teams out of sight until we get there. I want to finish this once and for all. Harry acknowledged Williamsons reply and watched as the man leading his old team rushed out the door. Lachlan and Ron approached Harry from the side. Lachlan stroked his long beard thoughtfully. Well, I suppose we need to get going. Are you leading Savages old team, Harry? I wanted to speak to you about that. This is long overdue, so we might as well take care of it now. Harry turned to face Ron. Im giving you Savages old team, Ron. Youll have to take Mortimer with you, so Im transferring Ramirez from Savages team to Lachlan. Lachlan, youll have to pick up another trainee from the candidate pool. Fortunately, there are some members of the Hit Teams that qualify. Work with Dennis on getting someone added when we return. Harry watched as Lachlan nodded in agreement and then took in Rons surprised look. What is it, Ron? Are you sure about this, Harry? There are a lot more senior Aurors who are ahead of me. Ron looked around the Office at some of the Aurors whod been with the Ministry for countless years.

Im positive, Ron, but thats not why youre asking me this, is it? Harrys eyes narrowed at his friend. Ron tried to meet Harrys gaze, but failed miserably. Turning his he ad down, Ron finally admitted why he was reluctant. I dont know if Im cut out for that job, Harry. Its an awful lot of responsibility. How do you know Im up for it? Rons reply brought a tinge of color to Harrys cheeks. Ron was steadfast, loyal and capable. His greatest failing was his lack of self-confidence at the strangest times. Harry remembered when he and Ron were on the Gryffindor Quidditch team together, and Harry had made Ron Keeper, how Ron had to deal with a bout of a severe lack of confidence in order to show that he was more than deserving of his position. This was a case of Harry having to buck up his friend, without the benefit of a Felix potion to rely on. Thats quite enough of that Ron. I dont make decisions based on nepotism, I hope you arent implying that. Harrys voice was terse with a hard edge and Ron shrank from him. You are the most capable person for that job. That team has been hit harder than us by Savages betrayal. Youre the man who can lead them, who can keep them at a high level of performance. Plus, they know you have my full confidence, and through you, so will they. Now, get your team ready, we leave in five minutes. Take Mortimer with you and send Ramirez to Lachlan. Ron snapped out of his bout of self-pity and straightened his shoulders. Beckoning over for his trainee to follow him, Ron turned and headed for the portion of the room where Savages former team, now Rons new team was assembling. Lachlan gave Harry a quiet chuckle and the Head of the Office of Aurors ran a hand across his forehead. When this is done, Lachlan, youd better have a good bottle of scotch ready. Dont you worry, Harry. Ron will be fine. Youre right, hes long overdue for that assignment. Hes got a steady head and fearless heart. Hell be just fine. The older wizard reached over and pat Harrys shoulder. Youll be just fine as well. Thanks, Lachlan. Well, I suppose we should be at it, then. Lachlan nodded. Harry reached into the folds of his robes and pulled out a silver bosuns pipe, a memento from his trip on the Discooperire. He placed the slender open end of the pipe to his lips and blew a series of high pitched notes through the instrument. The entire room stopped at its sound. Harry looked around and smiled at the collective law enforcement arm of the Ministry of Magic. All right, weve got an assault to complete against a very capable foe. You all know the plan and your jobs. Were up against wizards who are not afraid to kill. Take every measure to protect yourselves and your comrades. You all have trained hard. Ive never been prouder of yo u than this moment, right now. Youve all been briefed on the horror this Circle wishes to visit on our world. Lets make sure that it doesnt happen. Harry paused, his head turned slowly, enveloping each and every person in the room with his eyes. He smiled and raised his voice once more. Right then, follow me. Harry turned abruptly and walked out the door, confident that his wizards were right behind him. *** Ginny walked from her office at the Daily Prophet in Diagon Alley. Her head was spinning from the copious amounts of correspondence shed received in response to her expose of the Chudley Cannons. Most of the mail supported her article, mostly composed of people whod known that the perennial losers resurgence had to have an artificial catalyst. Still, shed received a good amount of letters from people who were much like her brother Ron, who thought that her journalistic production was part of a larger conspiracy to keep the Cannons down in the basement of the standings. She sighed heavily and walked down the alley towards Weasleys Wizard Wheezes. She entered the front of the shop and marveled at how much her brothers b usiness had grown.

Weasleys Wheezes had expanded its original location into the storefronts located on either side, effectively tripling the size of the original store. The main retail area was highlighted by rows and rows of display racks, segmented by which olfactory sense was affected. In the corner, thankfully located within a well ventilated and separate glass enclosure, was a section solely dedicated to foul smells. Another section had explosive fireworks displays and in the back was the personal defense section. George, Lee and Dudley under the watchful eye of Verity Weasley, continued to add to their repertoire of gags and jokes. Ginny was amazed at the quantity and quality of the products produced by the shop. George had been true to his word. Harrys initial investment into the business had grown almost fifty times and George was now sending dividend payments almost every month. A familiar blonde haired figure stood behind the raised central check out area. The beautiful woman was radiant and had the tell tale bulge of an expectant mother. Verity Weasley, Georges wife, stepped down from her position and walked over to greet Ginny. Ginny, good to see you! Verity unconsciously rubbed her stomach, mindful of the life growing inside. Hello Verity. Are you about ready? Ginny gave her sister-in-law a quick kiss on the cheek in greeting. Verity cast a quick glance over at Lee, who had taken her place behind the counter. He nodded at her and waved her off. Im ready, wherere the others? Verity pulled a cloak over her shoulders and fastened the clasp at the neck. Theyll meet us there. Hermione and Beatrice went ahead to get us a table. Verity smiled in excitement and the two women walked out the door. Plimptons Eurasian Fusion Bistro was the rage of Diagon Alley. George Plimpton was a chef whod wandered the globe, sampling cuisine from the four corners of the earth. When he returned to London, he had his mind set on creating the most eclectic dining experience in the wizarding world. His restaurant was the hottest ticket going. Usually standing room only, finding a table was one of the hardest things to do. Fortunately, having the Minister of Magic, the Head of the Office of Aurors and the owner of one of the most successful businesses in the Alley in the family had gone a long way to helping to get a large table. Ginny and Verity walked into the front doors of the Bistro. George Plimpton himself came up to greet them. He was a portly man, in a bright white chefs smock and wild hot pink and lavender pants. His head was topped with a bright white chefs cap and his teeth shone a bright white as smiled from underneath a bushy walrus mustache. Ah, Mrs. Potter, welcome to my bistro. Im so delighted to meet you. He turned to greet Verity. And you must be Mrs. George Weasley. Please tell your husband that he still owes us a visit, although, I must say, your beauty does add elegance to my humble establishment. Verity blushed at the compliment. Plimpton waved a hand towards the main dining area. I believe your party is already here. If there is anything youd like, please do not hesitate to ask. I recommend the fried wonton ravioli for appetizers, it is done extra special today. He led them back to a semi-private room in the back of the main dining area. Seated around a large table, Ginny saw that they were having a full house. Beatrice Dursley sat at the end of the table talking to Cho Creevey. Seated next to Cho, Isabella Ramirez was flipping through a bridal magazine with Hannah Abbott. Hermione was excitedly chatting with a woman next to her. Ginnys face dropped in amazement. The woman seated next to Hermione had long, flowing blonde hair and light, perfect skin. She had a playful smile on her lips with faraway, baleful eyes. Hanging from ears were small, delicate radishes and her voice had a light lilt. Luna! Luna Lovegood rose to greet Ginny.

Hello, Ginny. I thought you and Nathan were off exploring the hinterlands of the Upper Peninsula of Michigan? What brings you back? Ginny shared a tight embrace with her friend. Well, my book on the exotic fairies of Northern Ireland is about to come out and Nathan is about to publish a revision to his fathers book. We decided to stay in London for a while to finish the projects. Lunas husband, Nathan Scamander, was the son of the legendary expert on magical creatures, Newt Scamander, the author of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, the definitive account of animals in the magical world. Nathan had followed his fathers footsteps in animal husbandry and was currently working on an update of his fathers book. Given that Luna had become a famous naturist in her own right, the couple had an ideal relationship, traveling the globe in search of exotic, and sometimes fictitious, magical creatures. Everyone sat down as their waiter approached to talk to them about the specials. There was a cry of excitement as the waiter described General Tsos Meat Pies. *** Harry glanced out at the front door of the William Joyces former home. He looked around the surrounding neighborhood, trying to see if any innocent bystanders could be found. Harry turned to his leadership team to finalize their attack plan. He first turned to Elizabeth Cavendish, the flaxen haired Auror with the piercing amber eyes. Are the memory and muggle-hiding charms in place? She nodded back at Harry. Theyre all set, Harry. Well be shielded for the next hour or so. Harry grunted in acknowledgement and turned to Williamson. Any change, are they still in there? Williamson turned to look back at the building. Weve only seen movement in the front room on the first floor, presumably the living room and in one room on the second floor, one of the bedrooms. There are still people in there. Harry bit on his lower lip. All right then, maintain the attack plan. Dennis? Harry turned to Dennis Creevey, his Hit Team leader. Dennis was dressed in the Hit Teams assault uniform. He wore black combat fatigue pants, his bulging quadriceps rippling across the fabric of the pants. He had a black tee-shirt which showed the definition of his well-formed pectoral muscles. The sleeves barely contained the musculature of his biceps and the face of the shirt was pulled tight across his well-defined abs. Dennis looked at Harry expectantly. Your teams will go in the front and rear entrances on the first floor. Cavendish and Rons teams will support you. Dennis nodded, already familiar with the plan. Harry looked over at Lachlan and Williamson. Well assault the second floor, accessing the rooms without activity by broom. He took in all their faces. Lets go, we move in ninety seconds. They broke up and moved to their assigned places. Harry glanced over at Lachlan and Williamson, who had their teams arrayed behind them. Harry tossed a leg over the handle of his Firebolt and led the two teams into the sky. Hovering near the roof of the building, Harry reached into the folds of his robe and pulled a long, thin metal cylinder out. He held it over his head and a burst of red fire shot into the air, signaling his teams to begin their assault. *** Dmitri Kerelenko stood by the hearth in the living room, pacing back and forth excitedly. A rich, bright red figure of a head was in the fireplace.

Are you sure that they are proceeding as planned, Dmitri? Kerelenko nodded reverently to the head. Yes, Andre. Dr. Mengele has worked out a method to use the staff in quantity. Its not near the massive scale we hoped, but it can be used from a distance, in tandem with the vials of blood. Kerelenko waited for Andre Leclerc to respond to his report. The head in the fireplace seemed to be contemplating the information. After a few minutes, the disembodied head seemed to turn towards Kerelenko wherever the tall Bulgarian stood. I have to say, Dmitri, I only approved of this course of action with Madame Malfoy because a full scale commitment of resources to put down any of this muggle-loving nonsense would be problematic. However, I am very disappointed over whats happened to date. I dont know if Madame Malfoy understands how close to taking action I am. One more failure and I will be obliged to repeating what I did a millennia ago and cull the herd. He spoke in a matter-of-fact manner, as if lecturing a child. The coldness of his statement struck Kerelenko. As he formed his response, Dmitri was thrown against the wall as the front door to the home disintegrated in a blinding explosion of wood and smoke. As the dust and the mist settled, Kerelenko could make out vague figures clad in black, some with the tell-tale metallic glint of breastplate armor. Instinctively, Kerelenko raised his wand, sending out curses at the first person who came through the door. The curse hit the Hit Team member in the side, sending the man reeling into the wall, his body slumping down in a heap on the floor. Dennis saw one of his men fall from the blast. He dove head first across the opening to the living room over behind a chair that had fallen over from the entry. He popped up from behind his cover, his eyes catching a glimpse of Kerelenkos prone form, his wand trailing his gaze. Before Kerelenko could get another curse off in Creeveys direction, Den nis sent a charm that knocked the burly Bulgarian back towards the rock face of the hearth, sending Kerelenkos wand flying across the room. Keeping a wary eye on Dmitris figure, Dennis approached him. Dennis caught a glimpse of the form in the fire. For a moment, he locked eyes with the head. He saw a decided sneer on the face and then it disappeared in a puff of embers and flame. *** As soon as he sent up the flare, Harry leaned down on his broomstick. He aimed his broom for the window that had the most activity from their observation. Lachlan flew beside Harry, aiming for the adjacent window with each window on the second floor having an Auror aiming for it. As one, the Aurors extended their wands towards the windows and sent a spell to shatter the panes, just before their bodies propelled through the openings. Harry swooped through the open window and leapt to the floor, allowing his broom to carry forward. Landing on his feet, Harry brought his wand up and scanned the room. It was painted white, much like an operating room or laboratory. Harry felt a brief surge of nausea as the place reminded him of the room Simon Clark had held him in Berlin. Along the wall were five bassinets similar to the ones that could be found in newborn nurseries in hospitals. At the end of the room, a smallish woman with black hair stared back at him, her eyes blazing with panic and hate. Eva Von Blut drew her wand and pointed it over towards Harry. He barely avoided the killing curse that came his way. Of balance, he sent a spell back towards her, which missed high over her head. She moved with amazing agility, ducking for cover behind one of the bassinets. To Harrys horror, each one of the cribs held an infant. He ducked behind a large hospital bed in the center of the room, unable to fire back as she hurled curses towards him. Harry looked over at Lachlan, who was tucked behind a desk, farther back in the room. Lachlan ducked down, underneath the desk. Below the legs of the desk, Lachlan could see through to where Van Blut

cowered. The bassinets sat on top of wheeled carts, with shelving underneath for supplies. The senior Auror had a clear look at Van Bluts legs and feet. He turned towards Harry and nodded. Levicorpus! Lachlans reedy voice rang through the room. Harry turned and extended his wand, unsure if Lachlans spell had hit Von Blut, but hoping, at least, for enough of a distraction to get a shot. Expelliarmus! A coursing finger of red light sprang from Harrys wand. Lachlans spell had been true. Von Blut was levitating into the air by her ankle. Harrys spell struck her in the chest, propelling her with enough force to drive her through the masonry wall and into the courtyard below. Harry ran towards the hole in the building and looked out. Von Blut had fallen backwards and landed the pickets of an old, dilapidated fence. The prongs of the posts had penetrated through her body as she was impaled. Harry pounded the wall in frustration. Von Blut was obviously dead. He was brought to his senses by the sound of fighting in the hall. *** Williamsons team had effected entry using the rooms in the other parts of the second floor. Sarah Jordan and Silas Hornsby came through into an empty bedroom and ran out into the hallway. Standing near the stairwell landing, Sturgis Podmore reacted to the sudden appearance of the Aurors by sending an Impedimenta charm towards them. Sarahs legs got caught up in the wall that started to appear in front of them. She fell heavily, while Silas launched himself sideways to avoid the same fate. Leonora Sigismund and Sean Manchester were exiting the door of one of the other bedrooms and saw Podmores response to their fellow Aurors. They brought their wands up simultaneously and sent off spells to disarm the former member of the Order of the Phoenix. Podmores reaction was much quicker than Von Bluts. He managed to raise a shield charm to block the spells, but he found himself being backed away from the stairwell, as Silas joined the fight. Sturgis fought hard, rapidly switching his wand from door to door, engaging in a decidedly one-sided fight with the Aurors. He never saw Harry and Lachlan exit the operating room. Harry raised his wand, and disarmed Podmore, ending the fight. Lachlan bound up the traitor with no difficulty. Harry walked up to the trussed up man, a glint of rage in his emerald eyes. Why, Sturgis? Why did you do this? Podmore stared back at Harry. Sturgis had been with the Order since the beginning. When hed been sent to Azkeban, he thought his reasoning had been well defined. He was a pure-blood, and Voldemort had been a usurper. He thought hed fought with the Order on that basis alone. As he looked at Harry, into those eyes that seemed so familiar. Podm ore realized that hed joined the Order out of friendship. Friendship to the Marauders, James and Sirius had been friends, to be sure, but looking into Harrys eyes, he realized, hed joined because of Lily. Shed been so sincere. Now, almost thirty years later, he had gone down this path, convinced in the beginning, that it had been the only way to keep the bloodlines secure. He had been wrong. Dennis came bounding up the stairs. Seeing Harry, he approached to give his report. Just one downstairs, Harry. It was Kerelenko. Weve got him, but I think he was talking to someone in the floo. Whoever it was, theyre gone. Harry turned around puzzled. We got Von Blut. Shes down in the yard, well have to start clean up right away. Harry turned and looked at Podmore. We got him as well. Where are the others? The room was silent and Harry stared fiercely at Podmore. Where are the others, Sturgis? Wheres Malfoy and Lestrange? Wheres Mengele? Podmore cringed in his bindings. I cant, Harry. Its too late. Theyve gone.

Where did they go, Sturgis? Where are they? Harry grew insistent, his voice growing lower, softer. Their captive still refused to talk. Harry drew in a deep breath and looked at Dennis. There are five babies in that room. Youll need to get someone from St. Mungos to check them out. Start the clean up. He looked at Manchester, Leonora, Sarah, Silas and the rest of the Aurors. Get everyone working on the containment. Lachlan, Williamson? Bring him in here. Harry pointed to one of the vacant bedrooms. Lachlan pointed his wand at the bound Podmore and moved his body towards the room. Williamson held open the door and allowed his colleague to move the captive into the room. Shut the door. Harrys voice was cold and Williamson closed the door behind them and stood. Harry gave Lachlan a quick gesture and the senior Auror stepped to the side. Harry raised his wand and pointed it at Podmore. Legilimens! Sturgis Podmore was a capable wizard. He was experienced, battle tested and tough. Hed been through the worst that Voldemorts Azkeban had to offer, and he was no match for Harry Potter at the height of his powers. Podmore resisted, fighting back with every ounce of his being, but Harry was determined. Both of their faces displayed their exertion. Harry pushed harder, delving into the inner workings of Sturgis Podmores head. Finally, Harry relented. He dropped his wand hand and stared at the unconscious form of Sturgis Podmore. Harrys f ace was a mask of complete terror. Get as many Aurors as you can. Leave the clean up to the Hit Teams! Harry ran towards the room that held his broom. What is it, Harry? Lachlan followed close behind as Williamson started gathering his team. Diagon Alley. Theyre going to attack Diagon Alley and use the staff on as many as they can. *** The seven women left Plimptons Bistro, reveling in the memories of a great meal. The fare had more than lived up to the hype. They basked in the glow of Marchs first real sun of the season, enjoying a relatively good day of weather. They clustered together, continuing on their conversations from inside. Oi! How much did that cost me? They turned to see Dudley, Lee and George approaching. George came up and gave his wife a kiss. Verity blushed a bit and then playfully hit her husband on the arm. It was well worth it. Look whos here. Verity extended an arm out to Luna. George smiled and greeted his fellow DA alum with a quick embrace and kiss on the cheek. Ginny walked up to her brother. You be nice, George Weasley, or well tell your wife on you. Tattle tale! George laughed and looked around at the group. So, how was it? It looks a little too soft for me. Probably has one fork of food on a nicely decorated dish. I bet theres not a real mans portion to be found in the place. Lee Jordan, Georges business partner, joined in the fun. Right, I bet you couldnt find decent fish and chips to save your life. For your information, the food was wonderful and there was a lot of it. I dont know why men insist on making such fools of themselves. My Dean is well on his way to being a properly trained

gentleman. Isabella Ramirez gave the women a sly wink as the men blanched at Dean Thomas fate. George was working on a good retort that would answer her back, but avoid any bodily injury when a loud noise hit their ears from down the Alley. What the devil is that? George peered down towards the Alley entrance. Shoppers and vendors were running away from a plume of smoke covering the width of the Alley. The smoke ended right near the entrance to Flourish and Blotts. Ginny peered closely as four figures emerged from the smoke. They were dressed in flowing, blood re d robes. Theyd decided to forgo their masks. Narcissa Malfoy stood at their center, walking calmly towards the spot where the ten friends stood. On her left, Rudolphus Lestrange had a hateful, penetrating stare combined with leering smile. He seemed to be looking right at Hermione. Around his chest, Lestrange seemed to be wearing a bandolier with small vials of red liquid. On Narcissas right, a slightly built, balding man with piercing blue eyes walked holding the Chillingham Staff. He had a self-satisfied grin on his face as he pointed the staff to his left and right. Trailing to the right of Mengele, Ludo Bagman strode forward, his bearing close to what he was when he was a champion chaser. He bore down, every so often looking over to Narcissa for guidance. Hermione recognized the danger right away. Come on, weve got to get the muggles out of here! She pulled at Isabella while Beatrice grabbed Dudleys arm. Ginny screamed at her brother. Get Verity out of here! George stared down the Alley, instinctively pulling his wand. He was staring pensively. Ill stay here. Im going to try to hold them off until help arrives. Ginny nodded and stood beside her brother. They were soon joined by Cho, Luna, Lee and Hermione. They stood line abreast, covering the width of the Alley. Ginny looked over at Hermione. You need to get behind us. Youre muggle-born. That staff will kill you, certain. Ginnys eyes pleaded with Hermione, desperate for her to listen. Hermione refused. I cant leave you. Youll need all the help you can get. She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to find Beatrice standing next to her. You dont have to leave, Hermione. Just stand behind those of us that are pure blood. The staff shouldnt affect us. Hermione thought for a moment and nodded. She stepped back and allowed Beatrice to join the line. Thankful that her sister-in-law had taken their advice, Ginny turned back and stared down the Alley at the advancing Circle members, who were driving wizards and witches before them. She braced herself and whispered to her brother out of the side of her mouth. That was a very brave thing you did, volunteering to fight. Ginny couldnt hide the admiration in her voice. Georges eyes were focused down the Alley, a resolute expression on his face. He replied back to Ginnys compliment. Oh that? That looks like Ludo Bagman down there. That git owes me money. George raised his wand as the ad hoc defenders prepared to meet the advancing foe.

Chapter 137 The Battle of Diagon Alley Narcissa Malfoy maintained a steady pace as she led the last members of the Circle down Diagon Alley. She and Bagman would provide support, while Lestrange and Mengele would unleash the horror of the staff. Their entry into the alley had gone without a hitch. They simply walked through the Leaky Cauldron and entered with relative ease. Initially, no one had really paid attention to them. They lined themselves up, four abreast, and began a slow walk up the alley. When they were ready, she nodded to Lestrange who was wearing a heavy, beaten leather bandolier across his shoulder. In the notches of the device, he carried a hundred or so small vials filled with blood from donors with pure wizards blood. Namely, the vials contained blood given by the members of the Circle. Each vial was tapered to a fine point at one end, forming a dart. Lestrange reached down and pulled a handful of the vials from the bandolier. He tossed them in the air and then waved his wand, murmuring to himself. The thrown makeshift darts were propelled as if shot from cannon down the Alley and into a throng of people standing near a collection of vendor stands. Some struck people, others simply missed and impacted on a far wall, shattering. Those that were struck seemed mildly annoyed at the stinging and turned to face the source of their annoyance. Mengele raised the Staff. Effingo Penetralis Totalus! The amber tip of the Staff began to darken into its black mist and then several tendrils of the dark smoke shot out and struck the halfblood and muggle-born wizards that had received shots from the vials. Some were pure-blooded, but the serum mixed with the blood caused the Staff to ignore those bodies. As soon as they were struck, the wizards that were affected began to convulse in agony. When several ashy bodies lay on the ground, desperate panic took hold of the remaining shoppers, who began to run from the source of the fearsome deaths just visited on their neighbors. Lestrange reveled in the panic of the mob. He began tossing vials at a frightening rate, hitting more and more people. It was difficult for Mengele to keep up with Lestranges pace, still after a few minutes there were well over a dozen ash formed bodies on the ground. Every so often, someone would turn to fight, unwilling to watch more of the destruction. Narcissas instructions to her people were clear. She and Ludo began to kill anyone who stood in their way. Jacob Hickman was a robe maker. More accurately, he was a robe repairer. He worked at the second-hand robe shop in the Alley, spending his days mending cast aside robes in order to resell them. He was good at his job. More often than not, after he was done, the used robe looked almost as good as new. He kept to himself, but saw his job as providing first rate clothing to those who could not afford brand new robes. As the press of the mayhem passed by the window of his shop, he cowered down behind a rack containing dozens of robes. The front window shattered as a wizard struck by a killing curse from Ludo Bagman careened through, his body still. Hickmans mind raced, his instinct to run fighting his instinct to fight. He watched as people desperately tried to escape the oncoming tide. He glanced across the Alley and spotted and happened to glance at the shop across the way. He froze and then slowly drew his wand. He raised his arm and committed to a course of action. Stupefy! His stun spell sailed from the tip of his wand and shattered the glass of the Rare Antiquities Curio Shoppe. The spell wasnt totally stopped by the window and sailed true, striking the target hed been aiming at. Erumpet Horns were very volatile and were supposed to be regulated by the Ministry of Magic. The proprietor of the shop knew that there were people who would purchase items like an Erumpet Horn, thinking they were other things, like a Crumplehorned Snorkack or something of that nature. He had a regular customer out near Ottery St. Catchpole who delighted in such rare findings. When Hickmans stunning spell impacted on the Erumpet Horn, the whole side of the Alley near the shop exploded in a flash of light, sending a plume of smoke skyward. The members of the Circle were momentarily stunned, knocked to their knees by the power of the explosion. Jacob Hickman was more than satisfied with the result, as he saw the last few potential victims stream past his window and away from the danger.

He crawled on his hands and knees to his workroom in the back and hid himself in the confines of a large trunk which he used to store patches. He pulled the lid of the trunk down on himself and decided to wait out whatever happened outside. *** Ginny Potter stared down the Alley as the last few remaining wizards streamed past the line of defense her friends had created. She watched intently as the four crimson-robed figures began to walk towards them. For a moment, Ginny made direct eye contact with Narcissa Malfoy and saw the glee in the older womans eye. It seemed for a moment, that it was just the two of them and Narcissa was making a point to single out Ginny for her own special consideration. Ginny called out to her friends. We need to separate the Staff from that wizard in the middle. She heard murmu rs of assent from her friends. Hermione scanned their opponents. Thats Rudolphus Lestrange. Hes got the blood to use the staff. They cant use the Staff without the blood. Hermione pointed her wand down the street. Impedimenta! The cobblestones on the Alley floor began to bend and morph into a high wall, separating their assailants from their line. Hermione knew that she was only buying them a few seconds, but it would be enough time to put a plan together. Ill take Bagman. Lee Jordan face was a mask of fury. He cheated me out of a lot of money at the Quidditch World Cup. You too? George smiled over at his friend. Ill help you with that. Ginny interceded. No, George. Cho can help Lee. You need to take care of Lestrange. You and Luna should be able to handle him. No, I want Lestrange. Hermiones voice was low, firm. Ginny looked over at her friend and sister-in-law. Lets just say I have a score to settle with his wife, and I want to take it out on him. Ginnys eyes grew wide in understanding. When Harry, Ron and Hermione were on their quest for Voldemorts Horcruxes, Hermione had suffered a devastating encounter with a Cruciatus Curse at the hands of Bellatrix Lestrange. The memory was so raw that at times, Hermione could feel the pain that had been inflicted on her. Ginny nodded. Ill help you. Beatrice spoke up. The normally mild-mannered, soft spoken witch had a decidedly more deadly look on her face. She gripped her wand tightly and stepped beside Hermione. Youre still in danger. Youll need someone to watch your back to make sure you can get to Lestrange. Ginny looked over to her brother. George, you and Luna go after the Staff. Whatever you do, dont let that man use it anymore. Then Ginn y set her self at the ready. In a quiet, low voice she made a vow. Ill handle Narcissa Malfoy. The friends were ready. They turned and faced the makeshift wall. Within seconds, the wall shattered into millions of pieces, showering everyone with a fine coat of dust and masonry. Now! Ginny shouted. As one, the seven wizards and witches shouted at the top of their lungs. Expecto Patronum! Seven Patronuses emitted from seven wands and barreled down the Alley towards the Circle. The ephemeral white figures plowed forward, knocking the four members of the Circle away from each other. Lunas hare and Georges German shepherd separated Mengele away from his fellows. Hermiones otter and Beatrices Cheshire cat spun around

Lestrange. Lees jaguar and Chos Swan momentarily stunned Bagman. Ginnys brilliant mare knocked Narcissa down. Lets go! Ginny ran at their foes, confident that her friends were right behind her. The Battle of Diagon Alley was joined in earnest. *** Lee and Cho ran at Bagman who momentarily lost his nerve in the confusion of the fight. Theyd not expected to run into much resistance. The attack was supposed to be a quick hit to test the efficiency of the delivery system. They were supposed to be gone before any Aurors could arrive. Bagman turned and ran down the Alley, back towards the Leaky Cauldron. He glanced back and saw that he had only two pursuers, so he stopped and flicked up his wand. He sent a Killing Curse aimed at Chos head. Lee read his intention and nudged Cho down, out of the way, just before the spell hit Cho. Lee and Cho fell to the ground. As he hit the rough cobblestones, Lee sent out a curse that shattered a rock wall behind Bagman, showering the Circle member in shards of rock and mortar. Bagman raised his hand to his face and came away with his fingers coated in blood from the small wounds where hed been hit. Ludo felt his anger getting stronger. He pointed his wand at Lee, whod fallen off balance. From her spot on the ground, Cho sent a shield charm that hit Bagman squarely on the chest and sent the former Quidditch star reeling backward. Cho jumped to her feet and helped Jordan up from the ground. Somehow, Bagman had held onto this wand. He shook his head to clear the cobwebs and jumped to his feet. Cho and Lee separated, Lee taking the right side of the alley, Cho taking the left. They ducked behind the corners of walls, trading spells with Bagman as the older man retreated back towards the Cauldron. You better have your wallet on you Ludo! Lee was taunting him, trying to draw him out. Trying to pay me in leprechaun gold was bad form. You owe me a thousand galleons and George another thousand! Pay up! I dont seem to have that on me, right now. Ludo was starting to panic. He knew he belonged to Narcissa Malfoy, but his primary instinct was to run. When hed reneged on his bets, he ran. When he lost a bet, he ran. When he found himself short of the money he owed some goblins, he ran. Even now, despite the fact that he was playing a far more deadly game, he wanted to run. The only thing, really, keeping him in the fight was Pansy Parkinson. The stupid girls fate would be his, he was sure. So he kept up the running battle with Lee and Cho. Ludo sent a spell that flew errantly above Lees head. He turned and ran into the Leaky Cauldron, Lee and Cho right on his heels. Expulso! Chos charm struck the wall near the front door, raining down debris on Ludo, forcing him to dive behind the wide bar. Lee overturned a table and ducked behind it. The three exchanged spells. Lee blasted the middle of the bar, shattering the oak surface into pieces and forcing Ludo to duck down further towards the end. Cho peered over her covering table and looked into the mirror behind the bar. Lees blast had forced Ludo to a spot where she could see him clearly. Cho looked over at Lee. Keep his head down, I have an idea. Lee nodded and began peppering the area around Ludos shelter with spells. Cho took aim at the mirror. When she joined the DA, Cho had been the worst with the Expelliarmus charm. Whether it was maturity, or the fact that her husband was one big hunk of a warrior, she felt more confident. Cho let fly an Expelliarmus of her own. The spell struck the mirror and caromed down onto Ludo, pounding him into the floor and spinning his

wand out of his hand. Cho and Lee rose, unsteadily. The spell had shattered the mirror, so they couldnt really see Ludo from where they were. Ludo gasped for breath, the force of the spell had winded him. He spotted his wand a few feet away. He began to crawl toward his weapon. A small shard of mirror lay miraculously propped up against the wall ahead of him. He saw the feet of his pursuers. They were out in the open. He stretched his hand out, his fingers wrapping around the base of his wand. He was already muttering the Killing curse in his head. As he gripped his wand, a loud clang rang out through the room. Ludo saw a flash of stars in his eyes and then everything went dark. He was unconscious. Lee and Cho heard the noise and ran behind the bar. Standing over the prone figure of Ludo Bagman was Hannah Abbott. Hannah had left the luncheon early to care for the Cauldron. In her hand, she held a white, metal chamber pot. It was dented from where shed struck Bagman in the head. You made me lose my wand when you blew up my wall. She said apologetically. Then she took the opportunity to survey the damage. She looked back down at Bagman and whacked him again with the pot. Now you owe me money, too! *** George and Luna took aim at the smallish man grasping the Chillingham Staff in his hand. Mengele saw their approach and raised the wand in his free hand, sending a curse that missed. Josef Mengele was many things, twisted and evil. He was a demented, sick, and enjoyed the pain he inflicted on others. Most of all, Mengele was a coward. He looked around him, and did not see any of his comrades close by save for Narcissa, who was locked in a fierce battle with a fiery red-headed woman nearby. He dove for towards a pile of rubble and sent another spell towards his pursuers. Luna slid to the side, avoiding the blast. Years as a naturist, hiking with her husband in the wild and living of the land had made Luna lithe, fit. Her legs were like steel rods and she moved with a lethal grace that belied the same, sing-song, peaceful expression on her face. Mengele aimed another blast in her direction, but George sent curse his way that impacted at his feet and threw his aim off. Mengele fell back and allowed his momentum to carry him off into the shattered remains of a storefront. It was Florean Fortescues Ice Cream Parlor. The tables were overturned and cast in every direction. He ducked behind the glass counter and peered out towards the front entrance. Outside, George moved to the part of the faade to the left of the parlor. Luna glided over to the right side. George peered inside and raised his wand. He let fly a curse that impacted on the sloped glass of the counter, spraying ice and glass over the cowering Mengele. With a nod to Luna, the pair entered the shop, wands out, looking for their quarry. Mengele inched his way backwards, towards the far wall of the shop. As he reached the end of the service counter, he turned the corner and spotted a small girl hiding from the destruction all around. Mengele gave the girl a wolfish grin and false, reassuring pat on the head. Hello, my dear. Are you lost? The girl didnt look more than five or six years old. She was dressed in jeans and sneakers with a heavy coat. She had blonde hair bound up in a pony tail and bright, hazel eyes that were wide in fear. Thats all right, sweetie. Youll be just fine. Abruptly, he wrapped his a rm holding the staff around her waist and stood up, lifting the girl in front of him. His other arm held his wand, the tip of which he held to the girls temple. His sudden appearance, with his hostage in front of him caused George and Luna to freeze in place.

Yes, well, that will be quite far enough. Mengeles eyes were wild, shifting between Luna and George. He caught sight of Georges wild red hair and missing ear lobe. His eyes brightened. Youre George Weasley, arent you? George extended his arm, his wand pointed at Mengele. The former Nazi executioner pushed the tip of his own wand into the girls temple in warning, bringing a small squeal of pain and fright from the girl. Now, now, we dont want any innocent bystanders hurt, do we? Mengeles smile grew wider. You are George Weasley. You know, Ive always wanted to meet you. I happen to have quite the fascination with twins. They are natures perfect clones, you know. Pure blooded twins are quite remarkable. But, your brother was killed, wasnt he? His remarks made George flinch. Mengele saw that hed touched a nerve. What does it feel like? I mean, in my studies, twins have a remarkable connection to each other. Do you feel like youve lost a part of yourself? Did you feel it the precise moment he died? George stared back at him, his eyes fixed on Mengele, the hate and the anger rising inside of him. I think you did. I think you still believe your brother is going to walk right in the door. You must feel guilty living while he died. A distinct part of your being is gone and youll never get it back. Part of you must feel responsible. Its what twins are. They are part of the same whole. You will never feel whole again. George gripped his wand tightly. Slowly, with his other hand, he dipped into his pocket and pulled a small, oval shaped plastic egg from his jacket. Now, you will let me pass, unharmed, and I will let this little girl go. Back off! Mengele started inching towards the door and freedom, his prize held firmly in his hands. George looked over at Luna and indicated for her to back away. Luna eyes were surprisingly sharp. Shed been watching Georges actions, not Mengele. She nodded and allowed the tip of her wand to fall. She backed away from Mengele. George returned his gaze to Mengele. He made one last mental calculation and then tossed the small egg underhanded to the ground in front of Mengele. The plastic egg arced in the air, catching Mengeles eye. It landed on the rubble-strewn floor, cracking open releasing the Peruvian Darkness Powder contained within. The powder cast a pitch black pall over the area, blinding everyone from seeing anything. While Mengele had been talking, George had calculated the scientists exact location. Moving without any real need to see, George walked up to where Mengele stood and pushed his wand to the space where the mans forehead was. When he felt the tip of his wand touch Mengeles head, George ripped the hostage from the mans grasp. Confringo! Georges voice rang out through the darkness. The sound of an explosion and the thump of a body hitting the floor rang through the shop. There was a rustling noise as George pulled another plastic egg out of his jacket and dropped it. The egg contained the counter potion to the powder, clearing the blackness instantly. Luna looked over and saw George standing, the small girl cradled in his arms, his hand patting her gently on the back. On the floor, Mengeles body lay crumpled on the floor, his head simply missing, blasted into a thousand pieces. George turned and carried the girl to the front of the store. Luna looked around and wrested the Staff from the Mengeles dead fingers and a laid it on the ground. She reached into her hand bag and pulled a large basilisk fang out. She laid the Staff down on the ground and drove the point of the fang into the faceted amber surface, cracking it down the middle, releasing the surprisingly fresh sprig of mistletoe from its midst. She stood and pointed her wand at the mistletoe.

Flagrate! The mistletoe burst into flames and disappeared in a flurry of ash, never to be used again. She looked over at George, whod turned over a chair and was sitting, comforting the girl. Luna looked closer and saw that Georges chest was heaving, his eyes full of tears as he mourned his brother once more. *** Hermione focused a charm at Lestrange and missed. He whirled around and sent a counter spell her way, striking a lamp post and sending the fixture flying into the air. Beatrice struck him with a shield spell that sent him spinning back into the alley. Hermione quickly followed up with a charm of her own. Sectumsempra! The mangling curse struck Lestrange on his cheek, ripping a tear in the flesh bringing a howl of anger from him. He stumbled back and ran into Flourish and Blotts. Beatrice and Hermione chased after him. When they reached the store, Beatrice started down a row of bookshelves, heading off to the right while Hermione walked to the left. Beatrice stalked down the aisle, near the Potions section. She reached a bend in the path and peered carefully around the corner. Not seeing their quarry, she took a tentative step down the aisle. Something in her head told her to look to her left. She peeked through the shelves and saw a mad set of eyes looking at her from the next aisle over. She reacted instinctively, diving forward as the blast charm took out the shelves and the books near her head. The blast brought the shelves down all around her, pinning underneath loose shelf boards and hundreds of books. Hermione heard the blast and the small cry from Beatrice. She whipped her head around and walked quickly from the section she was in, towards the Bestiary section. She heard a taunting voice ring out. Is that you, Ms. Granger? I heard that youve had the pleasure of making the acquaintance of my lovely bride. Do remember the curse? Do you remember the pain? Exquisite, wasnt it? She shuddered involuntarily, but held back from responding. She tried to place his position, but the maze of books and displays buffered his voice. Come on, Ms. Granger. You know you want to feel the pain again. You want to feel it course through your body. Im going to do it to you. Im going to make you feel the pain. Itll never stop. Eventually, when Im done with you, youll wish your fate was as easy as those fools, the Longbottoms. She stopped, hed stopped talking. She was at a T shaped junction of the shelves, glancing in three directions. A flash of red robe caught her eye as she saw him round a far corner and let fly another curse. She jumped away as the spell struck the bookcase whered shed been standing. The impact of the blast lifted her against a large display containing ore and rock, driving the wind from her lungs. Her wand flew from her hand to the far side of the room. She rolled off the big stone, standing up in time to see Lestrange whip around from the aisle. She ran at a sprint as he sent another blast her way, disintegrating the ore and rock shed landed on. He laughed a haughty bellow. He saw her wand lying useless on the floor. Ms. Granger, what kind of witch are you? So careless to leave your wand lying about like that. Its not much longer now. Ill find you and grant you your fondest wish. Ill make the pain last forever. She found a small corner to hide in momentarily. She felt herself bleeding from several minor cuts and abrasions. She thought she heard footsteps echoing from one direction and tore off in the other. She rounded another corner and fled. Unfortunately, shed boxed herself into a dead end. She turned around to retrace her steps only to find her path blocked by Lestrange. Hed found her.

Ms. Granger. Stop denying yourself my company. You are quite pretty, for a mudblood. It would make me so happy to grant your wish for the pain. Crucio! The pain wracked her body, driving her to her knees. She screamed as every nerve in her body felt as if it were burning, on fire. He cackled and lifted his wand. You remember, dont you? How wonderful it feels, how intoxicating it is. He pointed his wand at her once more. Stupefy! He was struck in the back and driven into a bookcase, hard enough to shatter the remaining vials of blood in his bandolier, coating the front of his robe. He turned and saw Beatrice standing behind him, clothing tattered, her face and arms bruised from clawing herself out of the pile of books. He was a Death Eater, one of the fiercest of the lot, a savvy fighter. He turned his wand towards Beatrice and paralyzed her. Ah, another pretty lady wants to play with Uncle Rudolphus. Dont be rude, Missy, you mustnt interfere with Ms. Grangers fun. Ill deal with you soon enough. He rose and grimaced at the blood on his robe. Youve ruined my robe, so Ill be extra special to you. Let me have fun with Ms. Granger first. Hermiones voice echoed in his head. My name is Hermione Weasley! He turned and saw Hermione standing near him, a large book in her hand. Hermione was one of the most well-read witches of her age. If there was someone whod literally read almost every tome in Flourish and Blotts inventory, it was her. Beatrices distraction had allowed her time to take a quick glance around her, looking for a weapon to fight back. The title on the binding caused to raise an eyebrow. The bloody mess on Lestranges chest cinched the decision for her. She pointed the book at him and opened it wide, its pages directed at Lestrange. The book shook. She focused on the its title, knowing what was happening on the other side. The book was called, The Cursed Piranha of the Brazilian River Basin. From its pages, thousands of the miniscule fish with razor sharp teeth flew through the air and landed on Lestranges chest. The blood on his chest and on his cheek drove them into a violent frenzy. They tore into each other and into his flesh, ripping away chunks as he futilely tried to wipe them away with his hands. Every time he swiped at them, several would grab hold of his fingers and tear terrific gashes, biting to the bone. His screams grew louder as they built to a crescendo in a flesh eating orgy. Hermione yelled at him from behind the book. How exquisite is the pain now, Lestrange? They literally swam into the open wound in his cheek, tearing into his soft tissue. After a minute, his screams stopped. She waited a moment longer and then clamped the book shut. She looked down. When the book had been closed, the killer fish had disappeared, back from whence they came. She looked down the aisle and saw Beatrice freed from the paralysis and approaching from the other side. On the floor, where Rudolphus Lestrange had been, was a bare human skeleton, devoid of any flesh or muscle and covered with the barest scraps of red cloth. One piece of cloth lay on the ground near her foot. Hermione reached down and picked it up and saw the number two, stitched in rich golden thread on the red cloth. She looked at the cloth and tossed it down on top of the skull of the Lestranges remains. It landed, number up, covering the top of the forehead. Rudolphus Lestrange was dead. *** Ginny followed up her Patronus with an Expulso blast which Narcissa barely managed to deflect. Malfoy immediately recognized her opponent and allowed her own rage to build. Ginny Potter represented everything that Narcissa hated. She was a Weasley, daughter to the man who was

leading the purebloods down the path of extinction and to the woman whod murdered her sist er, Bellatrix. She was sister-in-law to the mudblood who was changing their world for the worst. Lastly, she was wife to Harry Potter, the man whod been solely responsible for the complete shattering of her family. She railed off curse after curse, getting progressively more angry as she missed her mark. Ginny was a whirlwind of movement and tenacity. Even after two children, she was still a world class athlete, who took careful pains to maintain her tone and conditioning. She shot back as many spells as was sent her way. Ginny knew her strength was her superior speed and stamina and had decided to make this a running fight. She zig-zagged down the Alley, drawing Narcissa after her. Malfoys anger was causing her to take chances. On a particul arly egregious miss, she left her self open and Ginny let fly with an aguamenti charm that sent a cascade of high pressure water directly to where Malfoy was standing and drove the head of the Circle into window of the Owlery. Dozens of freed birds flew out around her. Soaking wet, Narcissa stood up and sent a Expulso charm which blew up the building front near Ginny, sending her careening down behind a pile of debris. Ginny rolled around and rose to her knee. She brought up her arm and aimed her wand down towards the store where Malfoy was emerging. To her horror, Ginny noticed her wand had a crack near the center and the tip was dangling by the dragon string. She threw the wand to the side and hurtled away from a near miss curse cast by Narcissa. Oh, Mrs. Potter, I do seem to have you at a disadvantage. Pity. This wont last as long as Id like. Narcissa strolled down the Alley, intent on finishing off the redheaded dynamo. Ginny glanced over at the store that had lost its front faade. The remnants of its sign, Quality Quidditch Supplies, hung from a single rung on its front. She took a deep breath and ran for the store, diving away from another curse and landing amid a pile of worn, leather chests. She ran her fingers over the clasp of one of them and opened it. A series of three balls, two that looked like heavy lead cannonballs and one that was larger sat inside. She unclasped the lock on one of the iron Bludgers and tossed it out the window. Narcissa barely avoided the heavy ball and turned just in time to miss its brother flying at her. As she stood up, Narcissa was struck in the face by the larger, heavy ball, thrown by the former all star Chaser of the Holyhead Harpies. Narcissa Malfoy was knocked to the ground. She could feel the blood beginning to ooze from her broken nose. Ill kill you for that! Narcissas beautiful pale blue eyes blazed in fury, but Ginny had not stayed around to watch. Ginny ran through the store, reaching out a hand to grasp a brand new Nimbus 2010 that looked undamaged and grabbing a short, heavy wood cylinder with a taper that was in a bin with others like it. Without thinking, Ginny leapt on the broom on the run, kicking it into the air and out the window, over the Alley. Narcissa followed Ginnys movements, sending curses after the wildly maneuvering figure on the broom. Ginny juked and jived in every direction, throwing Narcissas aim off with every maneuver. As she flew by a third story window, one of Narcissas blasts struck a stone garg oyle perched on a ledge, shattering it and sending shrapnel into the woman on the broom. The concussive force almost knocked Ginny from the broom, but she steadied herself and kept one eye on Narcissa and another for her goal. Ginny turned the broom and raced back towards the spot where Narcissa continued her attacks. The crimson haired beauty spotted something out of the corner of her eye and raised her right hand up. In her hand, she held the shortened bat, and let fly an arcing swing which hit the bludger shed been looking for. Shed closed the distance to Narcissa, so the bludgers speed didnt allow for the older woman to twist out of the way. It hit her squarely on the shoulder, driving the head of the Circle to the ground and breaking her clavicle. Narcissa howled in pain and shifted her wand to her left, uninjured hand. She tried to aim at the weaving broom rider and missed. Ginny swooped around and guided her broom to another spot. She raised her arm and

sent the other bludger towards Narcissa, hitting the woman in the chest and driving her into a wall, cracking several ribs. Ginny alit softly near the spot where Malfoy lay. She walked up to the woman, whose chest was heaving rapidly as the pain of her injuries took hold of her body. Vainly, Narcissa tried to raise her arm and bring her wand in line with Ginny, but felt Ginnys foot come down hard on her wrist. Ginny absently knocked the wand away with her bat. For a moment, the two women stood staring at each other, then Ginny raised the bat once more and knocked Malfoy out with a blow to her head. *** The Aurors arrived within a few minutes. Harry and Ron ran through the Alley, surveying the massive damage that had occurred. They soon reached the center of the Alley and found their friends and family looking none the worse for the wear, with Ludo Bagman and Narcissa Malfoy trussed up. Ron ran to Hermione, taking her in his arms and pulling her tight to him. Harry ran over to Ginny and was relieved to see her smile at him. Youre late. She reached up and kissed him gently. If you keep this up, Im going to be out of a job. He returned the kiss and drew her in. He looked around and saw couples reuniting, savoring their survival. George and Verity were in a corner. He was whispering solemnly to her, as if sharing a deep secret, opening up himself to his wife. Harry looked as if he was going to speak to George, but he felt a small hand touch his shoulder. He saw Luna standing next to him, the same faraway look she always had. Let him be, Harry. He needs to be with his wife. Mengele is dead, George killed him and I destroyed the Staff. George paid a price, give him some time. Lunas voice was surprisingly serious and Harry nodded. Instead, he held Ginny and looked around. Dean and followed the Aurors and caught up with Isabella. Verity and Isabella had managed to get to Weasleys Wheezes and collected an assortment of items to fight, but the battle had finished before they could into it. Dean was visibly relieved at Isabellas condition and kissed her furiously. Beatrice and Dudley held each other tightly, looking balefully at the ruins of Flourish and Blotts. Nearby, Lee and Sarah were kissing each other, both having seen horrors that should not be experienced, but happy in their mutual survival. Harry let go of Ginny and walked to where Narcissa was held. He stepped up to her. Her face was a mess from the bloody, broken nose. He smiled. I guess you dont want to mess with a Potter, eh, Narcissa? Dont be so proud, Potter. You have no idea what youve unleashed. Youve doomed us all. She spat blood as she spoke. Mengeles dead, the Staff destroyed. We found your hide out. Id say all in all, its been a good day. Narcissa grew quiet and then looked up at Harry. Enjoy the day, Potter, because a long, terrible night for us all is coming soon. Harry felt the hairs on the back of his head stand on end. Somehow, he didnt think Narcissa Malfoy was bluffing.

Chapter 138 Respite The main Ministry conference room was full to capacity. Harry sat alongside his team leaders plus Dennis Creevey, representing the Hit Teams. Around the room, the various heads of the different departments and divisions within the Ministry were assembled to address the events of the previous few months. There was a general buzz around the room as Arthur Weasley strode in, trailed closely by Percy, who was carrying two bulging attach cases, laden with notes and papers. Arthur walked around the table, nodding to the various functionaries seated around the room. He approached the small lectern resting at the head of the conference table and began to pat his coat pockets, as if looking for something. Surreptitiously, Percy leaned in and placed a neat stack of note cards on the platform. Arthur grasped the cards and gave his son a quick thanks. Arthur looked around the room and then cleared his throat. Welcome, ladies and gentlemen. Thank you for attending this briefing on such short notice. We have several items to review so well just get to it. As you all might have heard, the threat from the Circle, led by Narcissa Malfoy has been thwarted, at, Im sorry to say, a great cost in lives and property. John? Dawlish stood and walked to the podium. Thank you Minister. Stopping the Circle involved separate incidents, one at a house in London and a much more destructive event in Diagon Alley. Obliviator Squads have been working overtime to ensure that blow back from the Joyce House assault has been mitigated. Unfortunately, over thirty wizards were killed during the Diagon Alley attack. Thanks to the timely intervention by a group citizens, the damage was less than it could have been and the threat was neutralized. Dawlish nodded back to Arthur and sa t down. The Minister smiled and called for Dean Thomas to take the dais. The economic cost of the Diagon Alley attack has been estimated at well over 100,000 Galleons. Efforts are being made to appropriate funds from the estates of the members of the conspiracy. To date, we have been able to identify almost 60,000 Galleons in funds that we can use from the Podmore, Fudge, Lestrange and Smith families. There is a probate question around the Malfoy estate, since technically, Narcissa Malfoy had no actual holdings of her own and there is no evidence that Draco Malfoy was involved in the conspiracy. Dean flipped the page over on his notes. Harry hid a smile as he noticed the handwriting on the paper was too neat, too precise to be Deans. Obviously, the able hand of Isabella Ramirez could be seen in the report. Dean continued. We estimate that Diagon Alley should be back to normal operation within ten days. Thank you. Dean shared a wink with Isabella, whose eyes were beaming at him. Overcoming his blush, he returned to his seat. Arthur stood once again and called on a primly dressed woman standing near a back wall. Her name was Corrine Sellers. She was an older woman, her salt and pepper hair drawn up to a tight bun. She wore a classic charcoal gray business suit, with a long gray skirt. She wore muted black shoes with a small heel, which creaked against the floor as she approached the head of the table. Perched on her thin nose was a pair black framed glasses, which overly thick, causing her black eyes to bulge out towards the audience. The glasses where held in place by a simple, silver chain, which hung down and draped around her neck. Her voice was crackled, like a fire in a hearth that had been fed too many green logs. The tone was low, and everyone in the room strained to hear her report. For those of you that do not know, I am Ms. Sellers, from the Office of Magical Children Welfare. We have recovered eleven infants that were born from the use of the Chillingham Staff. Three were born of Sturgis Podmores blood, three from Eva Von Bluts, and two from Ludo Bagmans. She paused, unsure of how to continue.

Ron leaned over from his seat behind Harry and whispered into Harrys ear. I wonder if the Bagman clones owe someone money already? Despite himself, Harry barely suppressed a chuckle and looked back towards Sellers. The last three infants have been found to have been born of Rudolphus Lestrange and Josef Mengele. There were gasps in the room. The Healers at St. Mungos have no idea what this means for these children. They are, as far as we can tell, normal, vibrant babies. Most conjecture is that they are disconnected from their sources, however we can not be sure. It will remain to the Ministry to determine a final disposition for these babies. May I point out, that several of the families of wizards that were killed to produce these infants have petitioned to raise the children. Thank you. She turned on her heel and walked back to her spot on the wall. There was silence in the room. Arthur rose and stood before them. The final disposition of the children will be presented to the Wizengamot for consideration pending further investigation. Ladies and gentlemen, needless to say, this has been a troubling episode which has struck at the heart of the very fabric of our society. I intend to put forth our changes to the law to ensure that we are no longer beholden to old prejudices that created the Circle and the Narcissa Malfoys of the world. There have been rumors about some international conspiracy. The truth is, we just dont know, but our best diplomats and negotiators are working diligently to find out whats going on. For now, let us be vigilant and safe. That is all for now. The room exploded in a bustle of movement and energy as the crowd dispersed back to their areas within the Ministry. Percy was busily pulling several people aside, including Harry, and asking them to remain. When the room had emptied, all that remained were Dawlish, Harry, Elphias Doge and Arthur. They sat towards the end of the table and looked over at the Minister. So, Elphias, what have you heard in Xanadu? Arthur looked over at the aged wizard who was his primary liaison to the International Confederation of Wizards. Nothing, Arthur. Weve checked into this Andre Leclerc, but hes a mystery. No one knows where he came from and no one has any idea how he got to where he is. He holds a relatively minor post, but wields a great deal of power. Well keep checking, but right now, I have nothing concrete to go on. Doge shrugged his shoulders and sat back. Arthur turned to look at Dawlish and Harry. Weve got nothing, but were still looking into every angle. Dawlish looked at Harry who agreed. Arthur sat back and pondered the issue. Well, until we get something concrete to work with, well just continue on the course weve plotted. All right? Anything else? Harry cleared his throat. Arthur turned towards his son-in-law. Yes, Harry? Minister, as youve seen in my report, Draco Malfoy played a significant role in helping us stop the Circle. Arthur nodded his head, urging Harry to continue. Id like to discuss his mothers incarceration. I gave him my word that I would. Certainly, Harry. Your word is our bond, I understand. What could Draco Malfoy want that we couldnt accommodate, except releasing his mother all together, which isnt going to happen. Harry briefed them on Dracos request. Arthur looked at Dawlish who gave a noncommittal shrug. Finally, Arthur leaned forward. Well work something out. Now, if youll excuse me, I promised Molly I wouldnt be late for dinner. They rose and turned to leave. Oh, and Harry? Molly says shell sic Ginny on you if your late to dinner as well. Harry laughed and went to collect his things in his Office.

*** I want to go too! Early March in the Burrow brought crisp, cool winds. The sun was beginning to have a telling effect on the harsh cold of the winter, but nature reminded the denizens of the Weasley family home that it could provide a chill, when it wanted to. The apple orchard sat at the base of the small hill that dominated the courtyard of the Burrow. Small buds yearning to burst free at the first sign of spring had begun to form on the apple trees. Below the trees, Arthur Weasley had positioned several stone benches, more out of necessity then for aesthetic considerations. The Weasley clan had grown prodigiously over the past few years, between marriage and the birth of multiple grandchildren, plus all of the friends of the Weasley children that were as close to family as could be had, there simply wasnt enough room inside the dwelling to house all those people. Today was no exception. The crisis with the Circle had made attendance at Molly Weasleys Sunday Dinners sporadic at best. With both Harry and Ron being Aurors and fully engaged in the fight against Narcissa Malfoys bunch, there were very few occasions where the entire family could come together and simply enjoy being a family. Now, there was a momentary respite in the fight. Molly made sure that the dinner would go on, with full attendance. She would brook no excuses. Meekly, the members of the extended Weasley family gathered together for Sunday Dinner. Two of the attendees were sitting on one of the stone benches in the apple orchard. One was a boy, dressed in blue jeans that were a little faded with a small hole in the right knee. He had on a gray sweat shirt bearing the logo of his favorite Quidditch team, Puddlemer United. On his feet, he had on black high-topped canvas sneakers that were finally worn to a comfortable shabbiness. His grandmother had made him don a blue, Eisenhower wind breaker, much to his chagrin, but when the winds blew, he was thankful for having pockets to warm his hands, though hed never admit that Gran had been right. The most remarkable feature of the boy was the unruly mop of hair that blew in every direction on his head. It wasnt so much that he rarely kept it in any semblance of order, it was the fact that it was continually changing colors. Usually, it changed based on his mood, bright hot pink for happiness, red for embarrassment, a cold dark blue for sadness and a deep ebony for when he was angry. Recently, he found that he could change the color on command, and he enjoyed his new found control. Today was a special day for Teddy Lupin, but he hoped the girl sitting next to him would not make it otherwise. You cant go, Vee, youre not old enough, yet. Teddys voic e contained no small amount of exasperation. Victoire Weasley was almost eight years old. She also had on a pair of jeans, but any similarity of Teddys attire ended there. Where his had holes and looked beaten and worn, hers were a deep hue of denim, crisp and clean. She wore a bright red oversized wool sweater under a three quarters length beige coat. Knowing that the wind and cold would bother her delicate constitution, shed elected to don a wool cap that matched her sweater. Her long, blonde hair hung down from the confines of her hat, and despite the wind, not a strand was out of place. Her bright, blue eyes were wide, though she puckered her lower lip in disappointment. Im smart. I could do the work easy! Victoire crossed her arms in front of her, emphasizing her point. Its not that at all, Vee! You have to be eleven to go to Hogwarts. Its the law or something. Teddy had just turned eleven. He hadnt yet received it, but he knew his letter from Professor Slughorn, the Headmaster at Hogwarts would soon be in the offing. I dont care. If you leave, Ill be all alone. There was a hint of desperation in her voice, far out of character for the normally composed little girl.

Thats not true, Vee, youll have James and Albus and Rose. Someone has to show them the ropes. If anyone will be alone, itll be me. I wont know anyone at Hogwarts. Teddy tried to be reassuring. In fact, youll be the only person who can write me to let me know whats going on at home. Will you do that? Will you write me? Of course I will, Teddy, but only if you write me back. Victoire seemed genuinely mollified by his words. She sat back on the bench and the pair sat quietly together, enjoying the comfortable silence that came with being close friends. *** On most of these dinners, Molly Weasley typically set up a pair of long tables underneath the warmed pavilion that was set up in the courtyard. Her new business partners, Andromeda Tonks and Petunia Dursley, had convinced her to try setting several round tables surrounding one large picnic table in the center of the room that was used as a buffet. As she walked into the tent, magically moving several large serving dishes laden with steaming portions of tonights dinner, she marveled at how intimate but still how friendly the arrangement was working. All around, friends and family were mingling excitedly, the tension of the past few months escaping in a renewed sense of love and trust. Molly took in the couples and families scattered all about and smiled inwardly. This was utopia to her, seeing the happiness that she always knew could found in her children. Save for one. In the back corner of the tent, she saw her son George sitting alone, not necessarily looking sad, but also not looking happy either. He had more of a blank look on his face, as if his mind was somewhere else, somewhere distant. She finished placing the food on the buffet and saw her daughter-in-law, Verity approaching. Verity looked radiant, her blonde hair flowing over her shoulders, a noticeable bulge growing on her stomach, indicating that another Weasley grandchild was on the way. Molly made eye contact with her and Verity walked over to talk to the Weasley matriarch. Is something wrong with George? Verity thought about dismissing Mollys concerns, but knew, deep down, that it wouldnt be true. Instead, Verity decided to let Molly in on the events of the past few days. She told Molly about Georges encounter with Mengele and how the wretched man had torn open the wound of Freds loss. Ever since that moment, George had not quite been the same. He wasnt maudlin or melancholy, but he wasnt the devil may care George Weasley they knew and loved either. I dont know how to bring him out of it. Hes distant. Molly watched as Verity verged on tears. Molly reached out and put her arms around the flaxen-haired woman, drawing her in. Hell just have to work it out for himself, Im afraid. Just keep doing what youre doing. Be there for him, and eventually, hell come back. She only hoped that she believed what she was saying as firmly as she said it. *** Dean Thomas approached his table carrying two steaming mugs of cocoa. Isabella was seated, carrying on an animated discussion with Beatrice ab out plans for Isabellas upcoming wedding to Dean. His heart skipped a beat when Isabella smiled at his approach, her soft, full lips opening to display an alluring smile that he never seemed to tire of. He wondered how hed gotten to this point. Being around Isabella was intoxicating, exotic and exciting. She made his world and she knew it. He snickered at how theyd been drawn together, who knew that accounting could be so much fun? He set down the mugs and took his seat next to her, with a nod over to Beatrice. Dudley Dursley walked up to the table and took the seat next to his wife. On his approach, Beatrice turned to have a few moments with him. Seizing the opportunity, Dean leaned over and kissed Isabella full on the lips, his smile still planted on his face.

What was that for?, she asked coyly. I love you. Deans voice was low, the words meant only for her. I know that, silly. She drew silent for a second and then looked him fully in the eyes. You dont think that Im too forceful, do you? Too pushy? Dean laughed out loud. You, pushy? She gave him a light slap on the shoulder. Im serious, am I too pushy with you? On very few occasions, Dean had seen her vulnerable, uncertain. He had been drawn to her strength and tenacity. She was a remarkable woman, blessed with extraordinary beauty. Her exotic olive complexion blended will with her long raven locks. Tonight she wore a simple black dress which served to highlight her beauty. Her eyes were dark brown and seemed to dance in the firelight, while burning into his soul. She had full, pouty lips which were set based on the seriousness of her question. He kissed her lightly once more. Isabella, mi amor, I love that you know your mind. I love that you are not afraid to speak your mind. I love that you are confident and when we have children, She blushed slightly at this, I hope they are as strong as you. I dont think youre too pushy. I think youre perfect. He kissed her once more, reinforcing his words. When they parted lips, she seemed happy and the small window of uncertainty that she displayed was gone. Of course Im perfect, she smiled devilishly, Im Puerto Rican! *** Most of the guests had been through the buffet line at least twice, some had gone through three times. Dudley sat back in his chair, contentedly, his arm wrapped around Beatrice. They were people watching, sharing comments on who they saw and what they felt. He had never been a conversationalist, but these past few months with his new bride had opened him up, far more than any other event. Since the events at Diagon Alley, shed been remarkably open with him about her experience. Beatrice came from a very prejudiced, pure blood family. Being the sister of Domina Malfoy made her choice to marry a regular old muggle like Dudley very surprising to her family and was a source for disappointment. Still, it was her encounter with the Circle that had strengthened the choice in her mind. She rested her head on Dudleys shoulder and s ighed. You all right? Dudley turned to look at her. She nodded slightly. Dudley sat for a moment in silence then spoke up once more. I was afraid for you, you know. Back at the Alley, I was afraid something would happen to you and since I was just muggle, there was nothing I could do. She sat up and turned to face him, surprised at his words. He continued. When I was growing up, I was a bully. I treated Harry and lots of other people horribly. With Harry, though, it was worse. I was jealous of what he could do. I wished that I could do that too. He sighed and thought back to the days before he changed, the time before he realized the world that Harry belonged to was a dangerous one, to the time when the Dementer tasted his soul. Something snapped in him that day. He realized how pathetic hed been and how close to death he was. Despite how badly he treated Harry, his cousin still saved him, and Dudley Dursley changed that day, forever. When the Circle attacked Diagon Alley and his wife stood up to fight, Dudley felt jealous of Harry for the first time since he was a child. This time, it wasnt that he was envious of his cousin, it was because he felt so powerless to help his wife. He was starting to doubt his own worth in the

relationship and wondered if there wasnt some truth to her familys concerns about their daughter marrying a worthless muggle. She saw the thought in his mind and sat straight up. Dont you dare, Dudley! He looked at her questioningly. Shed never used this tone of voice with him. I wont have it! There are enough people in the world that doubt us, dont you dare try to devalue what you mean to us and to me! Her voice was stern and was increasing in volume. He cringed at the scolding. She drew in a deep breath and regained control of her emotions. You are a wonderful man, and I love you. You bring joy to me and to those all around you. When Harry had to find Atlantis, you were there for Teddy. You are sensitive and strong and theres not a single thing Id change about you. I wont have you thinking that I settled for a muggle. I hope you know that I have far better judgment than that. Chagrined, he nodded. She smiled and kissed him firmly on the lips. He thought for moment and smiled back at her. Still, he began cautiously, and she looked at him sharply, expecting him to have another self-deprecating statement on his lips. I still hope that our children are wizards or witches, I want them in this world. She grinned. Children? Well, sure, that would be nice, but were a long while from children arent we? He broke out into laughter. Well sure, unless you dont want to be. Do you mean it? Her eyes were wide. Theyd talked about having children, but had decided to get settled first. He wanted to make sure that he could provide a life for them. It had been, really, the only disappointment that Beatrice had experienced, knowing him. Of course, whenever youre ready, Im ready. He waited for her response. She stood up and grabbed him by the arm, dragging him towards the house and its waiting floo. Where are we going? Dudley allowed her to pull him along. She turned and winked back at him. Im ready now. *** Teddy and Victoire walked back to where the party was winding down. It had been a great party, everyone seemed to enjoy the company of everyone else. Victoire ran off to find her parents while Teddy decided to see what was left on the dessert table. He stood in front of the table, his eyes wide staring at the piles of cakes and pastries arrayed in front of him. He took his time and then settled on an inviting cupcake. He peeled the paper cup from its base and then sunk his teeth into the overlarge yellow cake. His mouth wasnt near big enough for the portion, consequently, his nose buried into the thick chocolate frosting. He was in heaven. Do you need a napkin? Teddy whipped around to find Molly standing next to him, smiling at his boyish enjoyment. He smiled back sheepishly and took the proffered napkin from Molly. Is it good? He nodded emphatically, unable to talk because his mouth was still full. He chewed furiously and finally managed to get an intelligible word out. Its great, Aunt Molly. She beamed at the praise. There was s omething about compliments on her cooking that made her happy. Her face became serious for a moment and she leaned in close to Teddys ear.

Teddy, would you like to take home some of those cupcakes? Sure, Aunt Molly, but Gran probably wont let me, she says itll ruin my appetite. He took another bite of the cupcake. What if I were to talk to you Gran and ask her to let you take a couple home with you? He looked up at her quizzically. His mind raced at the prospect, then abruptly, his eyes narrowed and he looked at Molly suspiciously. What do I have to do? He was sure she was going to mention something like helping to clean up or eating more of the vegetables. Molly smiled at him and whispered what the price would be in his ear. His eyes started to grow wide and he nodded enthusiastically at the assignment. Gee, Aunt Molly, I would have done that for free! He stopped himself and the whispered in Mollys ear. Still, Ill take the cupcakes. With a jaunty wave of his hand, he ran off to complete his task. *** George sat in the corner, by himself. His mind kept going through his encounter with Mengele. He never seemed to replay killing the former Nazi scientist, the monster deserved his fate. George was fixated on the conversation he had with Mengele. Youll never be whole! Thats what Mengele had said. George thought he was over Fred. He had been over Freds death, yet now, doubt had crept into mind. Was he never going to be whole? What about Verity? What about the child they were expecting? The thoughts raced through him and the doubt began to eat away at his soul. He was troubled, beads of sweat were forming on his forehead. He reached up and wiped away the perspiration. Obviously, his concerns were affecting him physically as well as emotionally. He felt flush, almost feverish, his body temperature was rising. He would have to deal with this. If it were true, that he wasnt a real person without his twin, he would have to find a way to set Verity free. It wasn t fair to her to not give her everything he was. The thought caused an uncomfortable heat to rise up in his legs. The sweat was pouring down his face and he felt a searing, burning sensation in the pit of his stomach. Maybe he was wrong, maybe he was going about this entirely the wrong way. After all, he was having these thoughts based on the ravings of a lunatic. He chuckled to himself. Hed been way off base, thats why his body was reacting the way it was. His throat felt dry, the excessive warmth of his body had parched his throat. He took a sip of his drink and halted. Something was burning. He looked around hoping that a stray tent flap or table cloth hadnt caught fire. The fire was close by, he could literally smell the smoke. He stood and looked around. When he did, he felt an intense heat on his backside. Looking over his shoulder, he saw smoke pouring from the seat of his pants. All thoughts of Fred and Verity vanished from his mind as he let out a howl. His pants were on fire! He doused the area with the remnants of drink and pulled his wand and performed a quick aguamenti spell. By the time he was finished, there was a glaring burn hole in his jeans, displaying his boxers, which were festooned with several teddy bears, to the world at large. A crowd had gathered around him, and the laughter began to filter through. After a moment, while he still looked around for the culprit, George joined in, laughing with them. Back near the pastry table, Molly was carefully wrapping two cupcakes in wax paper. When she was done, she handed Teddy his rewards. Thanks, Teddy. George doesnt seem as depressed as before.

It was fun, Aunt Molly. Any time you need help with gags, Im your man. Just ask Uncle Arthur. What do you mean by that Teddy? Teddys hair turned a bright red. He almost let it out that Arthur had instigated the food fight of a couple years back. Nothing, Aunt Molly. He tucked his prize into a paper sack, as he stammered, trying to avoid Mollys withering stare. Just then, Georges voice bellowed across the pavilion. Teddy Lupin! I know it was you! Teddy welcomed the timely interruption. Oops, sorry Aunt Molly, gotta go! Teddy tore off towards the tent exit. After a few seconds, George raced by his mother, a large round hole prominent in the seat of his pants, the animated teddy bears on his boxers waving at Molly as he pursued the boy with hot pink hair giggling merrily ahead.

Chapter 139 Return to Normal I do so know what to do, you just have to give me a chance! Rons voice was a forced whisper as the small child in his arms had fallen asleep on the ride home. Ron, the last time you drove a car, it ended up in the Whomping Willow. Hermione rolled her eyes. This conversation had been going on ever since theyd left the Burrow after dinner. Her parents had purchased a Jaguar X6 for her and Ron had been hounding his wife for ages to let him drive the car. Hermione, during her visits home over her summer vacations, had taken driving lessons in between her self-study sessions and had passed the license examination with relative ease. That was almost fifteen years ago, Hermione. He glanced down at Rose, making sure his hushed retort hadnt disturbed his daughters slumber. Im a different man. Hermione snorted, Thats debatable, Ron. What about the little incident with the Vespa? Thats not fair. That bus was heading right for me. Rons face turned beet red. A few months back, Ron had been out investigating a reported boggart sighting in York with Mortimer. After dispatching the boggart, hed been taken in by a row of the motor scooters being offered for hire by a local merchant. Though he wouldnt admit it, Ron had inherited part of his fathers fascination for all things muggle with his own obsession with muggle motor conveyances. The scooters seemed benign enough, so he decided to take one out for a spin. Unfortunately for Ron, the scooters were earth bound, and Ron hadnt the slightest notion of the basic rules of t he road. Hed narrowly missed being struck head on by a bus full of tourists. You were driving the wrong way up the street, Ron. Hermione let out an exasperated sigh and dropped her coat on a nearby chair. And then you drove it up on the sidewalk . I thought Mortimer was going to pass out from the shock. Who ever heard of driving on the left side of the road? Thats just silly. Ron knew he was losing this argument, so he cradled Rose closer to him and kissed her on the forehead. Im going to put her down. He moved off in a huff as Hermione watched him go. She sat down in one of the high backed chairs facing the wall of plate glass windows, staring out into the night. Her conversation with Ron was forgotten as a chill went through her. She closed her eyes, trying to shut out the memory of the pain. The Cruciatus Curse was an Unforgiveable.

In more ways than one, it was probably the vilest of the dark curses, because its aim was never to kill, but to hurt. Bellatrix and Rudolphus Lestrange had inflicted horrible pain on Hermione and the memory always seemed to linger, as if her nerve endings could not let go of the sensation. Still, the haunted look on her face had less to do with what she suffered and more to do with what she had done. She remembered every detail, the bright chalky white of the bones, the wretched sounds of Lestranges screams. Shed killed someone, shed taken a life and it haunted her. Hermione? She looked up, Ron was standing next to her, a look of concern on his face. You all right? She didnt speak. She stood, a desperate look on her face as Lestranges screams of terror howled in her ear. She went to her husband and flung her arms around him and buried her head in his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, patting her gently on the back, and listened in bewilderment as sobs wracked her body, causing her to shudder. They stayed like that for a few minutes, then he stepped back a bit to lean down and look in her eyes. What is it? Whats bothering you? She made a show of wiping her eyes, which were blotchy around the edges. She took a deep breath and looked up at him. Everything weve been through, everything weve encountered, everything weve faced, Ive never had to kill someone before. His eyes widened. In the back of his mind, he knew what she was going through. It was Lestrange, Hermione, he was an evil, evil man. He was going to torture you into oblivion, like he and Crouch did to Nevilles parents. You had no choice. I know Ron, and I understand that, but part of me still cant get over the fact that I murdered someone. Do you know what its like to take a life? How much that takes out of you? She stood with an arm out, palm up to the sky. He grew silent, his eyes narrowing and he looked out the window. In a low voice he spoke as his mind went back in time. Yes, as a matter of fact, I do know what its like and what it rips from you. What? What do you mean? Hermione stared at her husband incredulously. Hed never spoken to her about the details of their rescue of Harry from Simon Clark. Hed never told her about fighting with the sociopath turned mercenary named Anthony Stephens, how hed finally incapacitated the man by suspending him out a window over eighty stories in the air and how hed let the man drop to the ground far below. Hed never told her about how sometimes woke up at night in a cold sweat as the Stephens eyes, full of terror, bore into Ron just before he took the fatal plunge. Hed never said a word, until tonight. He told her everything. I didnt know. Her voice was a whisper. Why didnt you tell me? He shrugged his shoulders. I didnt know how youd respond. Your husband would be telling you that he was a murderer. It took a while, but eventually, Ive started to accept what happened. Stephens was an evil man and he was going to kill Harry. I couldnt let that happen. The nightmares have been gone for a while, and yours will disappear too. You did the right thing, Hermione. You had an obligation to act and to get home to me and Rose. Lestrange threatened that reality and you did what you had to do. You just have to figure out those facts for yourself. He drew her in and hugged her tight. She wrapped herself up in the warmth of his body and felt a calm reassurance waft through her being. She took a deep breath and reached up and kissed him gently. He reciprocated and they shared a moment together where they understood perfectly what the other was feeling at that precise moment. Ron sat in the chair and pulled his wife down to sit across the chair arm. She nestled her head down onto his shoulder and they sat silently, feeling each others heartbeat moving in perfect harmony to their partners.

Can I ask you something? She didnt look at him, but merely spoke out into the room in general. He nodded. Id like to have another baby. Are you all right with that? He didnt say anything at first, then after hed given the matter some thought. Absolutely, but were going to have to move I think. We only have two bedrooms and Id like to have a little more property for the kids to play in and if we have a boy, then hell need a separate room from Rose and Id like to live in a muggle neighborhood so I can drive and, oh wait! We could get a televisor, is that right? No, wait, television and watch the muggle actors, thisll be great. I need to contact an agent and look into currency exchange, maybe Isabella can help us Ron. She interrupted his stream of consciousness, causing him to hesitate. I meant, would you like to start trying to have a baby now? Oh, sorry. Still the full impact of what she was saying hadnt quite hit him. She reached over and slapped his forehead with the palm of her hand. He processed the act for a minute and then a small flicker of light arose in his eye. Oooooooh! He rose, carrying her in his arms and started walking towards the bedroom door. She pulled her wand from her pocket and began to douse the lights in the main room. As they reached the bedroom door, she looked up and kissed him gently on the cheek and smiled. Men! She shook her head as the door shut tightly behind them. *** Harry and Ginny walked into their home, each carrying one of the children with them. Albus and James were far from ready for bed, so their parents brought them into the front sitting room. Kreacher had reconfigured the room as a living room area, complete with a couple of sofas and the reading chairs near the fireplace. The house-elf had left the center of the room open, giving an area for the kids to spread out and play to their hearts content. James was tired from the horseplay hed been participating in at his grandparents house, which seemed to tone down his habit of leaping up onto hard to get places near the ceiling. Nonetheless, Kreacher had taken to ensuring that every horizontal surface well above six feet was thoroughly dusted based on James habit of collecting balls of dirt on his clothes from his explorations. Albus was fast approaching one, and he was experimenting with tentative steps, trying to walk, unsure still of whether his balance was steady enough to continue on. His hair had grown at a prodigious rate and had resisted any attempt at reining it in, much to his mothe rs chagrin. In fact, he seemed to delight in her attempts to comb and style his frazzled mop, and he would gaze at her with his bright emerald eyes, wearing down her frustration as he melted her heart with his stare. Harry and Ginny sat in the middle of the room, enjoying the opportunity to play with their kids. James was sitting next to Harry, making a game attempt at forming full sentences with his rapidly growing vocabulary. Ginny was assisting Albus in his current attempt to walk from one sofa to the other, but still hadnt gained enough confidence to let go of his starting point, no matter how much Ginny cajoled him. Finally, he locked eyes with his mother and decided that her attention far outweighed any linger fear he had of falling. Before he knew it, he was taking several tentative steps towards her, his only goal was to get a hug from the sunny woman with the brilliant red hair. Harry, look! Ginnys eyes never left her youngest son and Harry watched in awe as Albus swayed unsteadily towards his mother. Harrys heart burst with excitement, hed missed James foray into this uncertain world, having been called off on some adventure and now, Harry

marveled at how the simple exercise of walking four short feet could make him feel on top of the world. Albus confidence grew more and more and his gait started to quicken. His only goal was to close the distance to the point where he knew hed be picked up and embraced tightly by his mother. She was his whole world and his pace was fast, as if he were trying to fall forward and barely getting his feet forward to stop his face from planting in the ground. His last few steps, he jumped up fully confident that she would catch him, which, of course, she did. Wonderful, darling. What a big boy! Ginny spun Albus around in the air; bringing giggles from her son while his small hands gripped her shoulders as tight as they could. Harry laughed with them and then looked down at James, who seemed oblivious to the action around him. James was seated on the carpet, stacking some blocks decorated with letters and runes. The boy was mumbling to himself, carrying on a conversation that seemed to not have an end. After a few minutes, Harry rose and walked to the hall closet and rummaged around a box on the floor. He returned after a few minutes holding a miniature broom in his hand. James, Ive got something for you. His son stopped his playtime at his fathers voice, the tone and words telling him that he was getting a present. Harry gently placed the broom near the floor in front of James. It hovered in the air, roughly a foot off the floor. James stared at the broom with obvious glee. Teddys broom! Harry smiled. James had fallen into the habit of avidly watching Ginny and Teddy practice broom techniques on the weekends that the family gathered at the Burrow. The small boy idolized Harrys godson and would offer excited commentary on Teddys flying prowess. Now, James would get the chance to emulate his idol. Come on, James, lets see how you do? Harry lifted his son off the floor and placed him astride the floating broom. The device rose slightly, accommodating James longer legs until the boys feet were barely touching the ground. James gripped the handle tightly, a wide grin on his face. Harry held on to his shoulders, keeping him in place and adjusting his position on the broom. After a few seconds, Harry let go and the broom darted forward at less than a dizzying speed, but fast enough to get a squeal out of James. Toy brooms are designed to operate not far from the ground, preventing its riders from soaring to heights that would be dangerous, but the brooms did stay high enough to provide the sensation of flight. James seemed to be a natural. Within moments, he was coasting around the room in circles and stopping with relative ease. James was absolutely ecstatic about his new toy and the potential freedom it brought to him. Harry watched as his son hovered for a moment, a stare on James face that looked like he was piecing together an intricate puzzle, his brain whirring away behind his brown eyes. James mouth started to form a devilish grin and he looked at his father with a glance that Harry had only seen on his own fathers face during his Pensieve studies of th e Marauders. A slight sense of anxiety overcame Harry, who cast a nervous glance at Ginny. Kreacher! In a flash, James zoomed out of the room and down the hall. His shouts were soon followed by the sound of pots and pans hitting the floor and the unmistakable noise of crockery shattering on the tile floors of the kitchen. Master James! Put that down! Kreachers unmistakable voice filtered back to Harry, whose face had turned a deep shade of crimson. Not wanting to, Harry turned to face his wife, who had not said a word, since their son had flown out of the room. Ginny was standing in the center of the room, her arms crossed and her toe tapping a furious staccato on the carpet. Its like throwing gasoline on a fire. You had to give him that broom, didnt you?

Harry was about answer, when another loud crash resounded from the kitchen. Instead, he shrugged his shoulders and looked away from Ginnys cross face. When he glanced down, he noticed Albus sitting near his mothers tapping foot. His son looked up at Harry, his brilliant green eyes dancing with delight. Albus pointed a stubby little finger in Harrys direction and laughed out loud at his fathers predicament. *** Later, much later, when both boys had bathed and gone down for the night, the chaos in the kitchen had been righted, and Ginnys annoyance had simmered down, Harry lay in his bed, reading through some perfunctory report, while Ginny went through her evening ritual in preparation for going to bed. When she entered the room, instead of walking over to her side of the bed, she came over to where Harry lay and gently lifted the manila folder he was reading from and placed it on the bedside table. Climbing over her husband, she settled in the crook of his arm while he played with her hair. The scent of lilac drifted to his nostrils as took in her beauty. He lived for moments like this and he was constantly reminded of how much he loved this woman and how much more he did each and every day. She looked up at him. Harry? Were you scared when you went after the Circle? He thought for a moment. Yes. Ill tell you what, Im scared each and every time I have to go into action. Anyone who isnt if a fool. Why, were you scared fighting Narcissa Malfoy? She nodded. I wasnt afraid to die, I didnt have time for that, but I was afraid of leaving you and the boys. Thats the same way I feel. When I heard that they were attacking Diagon Alley, I knew youd be there, what with the Prophet being right there. He sighed. She looked at him closer. Were you afraid that theyd do something to me? No, not really. I know you can handle yourself. Its just that, fighting like that takes a lot out of you, it takes a part of your psyche each time. Look at George and what it did to him. I cant believe Hermione doesnt feel some sort of pain, right now. She does. Shes hurting. Hopefully Ron will help her get through it. Ginny nestled her nose onto the folds of his t-shirt. Harry looked out towards the window. He will. Rons been through it before, he knows the price of having to kill someone. What? Ginny was surprised at Harrys comment. As husband and wife, they shared a lot, but this bit of information surprised her. When had her brother had to take a life? Its nothing. It happened back when I was kidnapped. Suffice to say, Ron had to kill a very bad man who was trying to kill him. Hell be more than prepared to talk to Hermione about it. They sat in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the comfort of holding each other. Were meeting them for lunch, tomorrow, Ron and Hermione. Mum says we need to have some social time together. He looked down at her. Cant argue with that. Weve been so busy, itll be nice to get together. Where? Plimptons Bistro. She laughed when he rolled his eyes. Again? George says that they serve owl food there. Harry sighed.

Thats not true, its quite good. She punched him playfully on the shoulder. Ill have to owl Ron to eat something at home before he comes out. Youd better not, Harry Potter. She laughed with him and reached up to kiss him lightly on the lips. Their kiss deepened as the tension of the past few months, the unspoken anxiety they shared over each others fates began to release from their souls. She pulled him closer to her and shared her love and passion with him. After a few moments, she pulled her head back, breaking the embrace. Silently, she reached over him and grabbed his wand from the nightstand, shed have to stop at Ollivanders tomorrow to replace the that had broken. She pulled his glasses from his face and placed them on table. With a wave of Harrys wand, the lights in the room dimmed and the door silently closed shut and locked, as if of its own volition. She waved the wand again and several candles flew up into the air and fluttered alive with soft light as flames ignited on their wicks. She put the wand back down and gazed down at Harry, and with a smile, allowed other flames to ignite as well. *** They exited Ollivanders, a wand case in the shopping bag to replace the one she lost. Arm in arm, they strode down the Alley, towards Plimptons Eurasian Fusion Bistro, albeit, Harry was a little more hesitant than his wife. Waiting outside the restaurant, Hermione and Ron waved as they approached. The expression on Rons face matched Harrys. The two friends shared a brief look which seemed to communicate their mutual reluctance and their resolve to bear through it and perhaps stop over at the Cauldron after for some more, substantial food. Diagon Alley was slowly returning to normal. The crowds, while not as thick as before the attack, were beginning to grow with every passing day. Physically, most of the damage inflicted on the buildings had been repaired. Still, between the deaths of several of the owners and the loss of inventory, there was still a long way to go before Diagon Alley was back to its old self. The two couples greeted each other. Hermione smiled at them, and Harry thought that she looked much better than he could recall. Maybe hed been right, maybe Ron had helped his wife through her ordeal. Itll be another fifteen minutes or so, the place is packed. Hermione looked over at Ron, who was sulking both at the prospect of the wait and of the fare. Oh, grow up Ron, its not going to kill you. Before Ron could respond, George Plimpton came out of his restaurant, his hands wide in greeting. My friends, my friends, what are you doing out here. Come, come, we have a ni ce table inside for you. Ginny looked over at the restaurateur. He was wearing a mauve smock with a matching mauve chefs cap, jauntily tilted to the side. His pants where a bright orange with yellow lightning bolts all over, impossible to miss, even in the middle of a Peruvian Blackness Powder accident. We saw the line. They said the wait would be a little longer. We dont mind waiting. Ginny ignored Ron and Harrys groans. Nonsense. Ginny Potter and Hermione Weasley, you are heroes of Diagon Alley. You saved us all. You never wait. George pointed inside, asking them to join him. Can our husbands come too? Even if they arent as famous? Hermione snickered at Ginnys gibe and then towed Ron by the arm into the bustling restaurant.

After their lunch, the two couples walked out into the Alley, talking about their experience. I wonder if we can pick up some sausage rolls? Ron rubbed his stomach, his constitution not entirely agreeing with the Lo Mein with marinara sauce hed just eaten. You dont need to eat anything else, Ron Weasley. Now admit it, the food was good. Hermione stood in front of her husband, arms firmly resting on her hips. Harry and Ginny watched in amused silence as their friends looked on the brink of a sassy repartee. Ron tightened up his face. Look Hermione, just because some man dressed like an accident in a robe shop for the blind opens a restaurant, doesnt mean that his food is good. Whats wrong with good old fashioned fish and chips anyway? You cant expect a hungry person to Rons voice trailed off and his three lunch companions followed his gaze up to a point in the sky behind Hermione. A bright ball of white light seemed to be fluttering in the azure sky, roving around from place to place, as if searching for something. What the blazes is that? Ron spoke for them all. The ball descended towards them, its erratic movements stopping as it floated directly at the four. It stopped in the middle of their circle and hovered, a small hum coming from its center. It seemed to shine in each of their faces individually, first at Ron, then Hermione, then Ginny and finally Harry. It paused at Harry. Suddenly, the ball of light crackled, like a lightning bolt and imbedded itself in Harrys che st. Waves of heat and light shot out of Harrys fingertips and eyes and he toppled onto the ground, resting on his back, a look of complete surprise on his face. The light disappeared inside of him, leaving him motionless, his eyes wide open, but blank to anything or anyone around. Were it not for the heaving of his chest, Harry looked like hed been struck by an Avada Kedavara. Harry!!! Ginny screamed his name and knelt beside her husband. She could find no response , only the dead expression on his face. Ron drew his wand and pulled his Aurors badge from his jeans pocket. He waved the wand over the shield, summoning help. Harry! Ginnys voice was hysterical. Whats happened to him! She looked pleadingly at Hermione, who was at a loss for words. Hermione looked over at Ron, whose face was an inscrutable mask of concentration. Within seconds, the tell tale sound of apparitions began to resonate around them. Rons team appeared, with Mortimer at the front, followed closely by Lachlan. The older wizard ran up to Ron and took a quick look at the still form of their leader. What the devil happened? Rons voice was low, as his insides wrenched at his sisters pain. He shrugged his shoulders and murmured balefully, I dont know. Chapter 140 The White Room White, thats all he could see. He thought he was in a room, but really couldnt be sure. All around him, it was white, save for the color of the clothes he was wearing. He was lying on the ground, which was also white. He sat up and looked around. There was a soft, light glow emanating from all of the surfaces around him. It was very much like the time when hed allowed Voldemort to strike him with a killing curse and he ended up in ethereal version of Platform 9 . Still, he couldnt make out any shapes or landmarks. There was nothing recognizable around him. There was no furniture or signs, no doors or windows, there was simply nothing. He stood up and looked around. There were no discernible walls, nor any sign of wh ere the floor he stood on met a wall. He took a tentative step forward, if that was a direction in this place and the

sound of his foot bracing down on the floor echoed in his ear. He was wearing the same clothes he had been wearing to lunch with Ginny and yet, there was no sign of anyone, anywhere. Hello? His voice echoed back to him. He looked around bewildered and took another step to see if he could get anywhere. Regardless, Harry knew, he was lost. He glanced behind him, and as if it had always been there, a standard, wooden chair sat in the middle of the room. How did I miss that? Harry thought to himself. He approached the chair and inspected it. From all appearances, it was, what Harrys eyes and hands told him it was. A chai r. He looked up and scanned around him and when his eyes came back to the chair, there was a small, round table made of the same wood as the chair. Atop the table was a tray of assorted pastries and a black teapot with steam pouring from its spout. Harry reached down his hand and placed it near the kettle. It was warm, obviously full of piping hot water. Harry carefully sat down on the chair, bewildered by what he was seeing. His eyes flickered down at his hands and when he looked up, a second chair had appeared, opposite where he sat, underneath the table. Oh, come on! Is anyone here! Harrys voice boomed in the confines of the room he was in, even if he couldnt see where the walls were or how far the room extended. Of course, Mr. Potter. Thats the reason youre here. Harry turned and stood, his hand reaching for his wand, which much to his surprise, was not in the sheath attached to his arm. He whirled around and seated in the chair opposite him was a short, thin bald man with a salt and pepper goatee. The man wore a shirt and a plain, red and blue tie with his shirt sleeve rolled up over arms with wrinkled skin and bony elbows. He had a playful grin on his face and a pair of steel bifocals in front of a pair of dark brown eyes. Please, Mr. Potter, sit down. May I call you Harry? He pointed to the chair near Harry, who, somewhat bewildered, sat down. The man reached over to the table and poured tea into a pair of cups that were resting atop two matching dishes. Sugar? Cream? Harry nodded and watched as the man added two lumps of sugar and poured cream from a decanter into the tea cups. You know who I am, but who are you and where are we? Harry gave a hard look at the man, who laughed. Of course I know who you are Harry. Everyone knows who the great Harry Potter is. I, on the other hand, am a simple civil servant. My name is Andre Leclerc. As for where I am? Im in my office in Xanadu and you, well you are laying on your back on the cobblestones at Diagon Alley. Leclerc smiled once more and took a sip of his tea. Harry looked around. In certain ways, this room looked like the place hed met Dumbledore for the last time. Then, it was familiar, Kings Cross Station. It had been a waypoint somewhere between life and death. The lack of any clear delineation of the boundaries of the room threw Harry for a loop. So, Im dead. Is that what youre saying? Leclerc laughed heartily at Harrys question. Of course not, Harry! I am an astral projection of your m ind, and you are an astral projection of mine. I thought it was high time for you and I to talk. Leclerc studiously eyed one of the confections on the table. Leclerc? You were the real leader of the Circle. Harry spoke matter -of-factly, sipping on his tea to control his emotions. Leclerc let a dark look pass over his face which disappeared almost as soon as had come. Ah, yes, The Circle. Admittedly, I allowed Mrs. Malfoy to form her merry little band, and yes, I provided her the contacts to reach Mengele and Von Blut, but I hardly thought the Circle would

accomplish its lofty goals. I hoped, mind you, because it would have saved me a great deal of effort, but they did not seem to have the capability to do what we needed to have done. The Circle was comprised of amateurs. What is it, then? Why are you interfering in our affairs? Harry carefully placed his cup down on his saucer, so as not to break it. Thats the question, isnt it? Leclerc stared at Harry, as if planning what to say. Let me ask you Harry, what do you know of the history of Hogwarts, specifically, what do you know of the history of its founding? Harry chortled. Everyone knew of the four founders, the first leaders of the great Houses of Hogwarts. Godric Gryffindor, Rowena Ravenclaw, Helga Hufflepuff and Salazar Slytherin came together to found a great school of magic. Their Houses reflected their own abilities and skills and wizarding world in Britain was better for it. Harry told Leclerc as much. Certainly, those are the facts as we know them, but the question is why did they found the school in the first place? How did four unique and disparate personalities come together to build a school that by definition would divide the students into separate and distinct factions that would be naturally antagonistic to each other, especially Slytherin and Gyffindor? Why would Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Gryffindor start a school with Salazar Slytherin? Leclerc leaned back in his chair and watched Harry ponder the question. It was a good question. For centuries, there was a natural animosity among the Houses. Even Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were more allies against a common foe, the Slytherins, than really friends for a common purpose. In any way that he thought about it, there was simply no clear reason that the four founders would come together to start a school of magic. Unless Something happened that drove them together. Harry was almost speaking to himself. Leclerc smiled at Harrys quick mind. Go on, youre nearly there. Something outside the school, something that threatened them so much that they needed to come together for a common cause. A common enemy, maybe? Harry looked over at Leclerc who was clapping. Bravo, Harry. You truly are a brilliant wizard. The school was started in 1070, four years after something happened to England, in the year 1066, to be precise. Hastings? Harry asked his question incredulously. Hastings. Every school boy in England knew about the Battle of Hastings, where the Norman king, William the Conqueror, had led an invasion of the Isles and defeated the forces of the Saxon king, Harold, who was killed in the battle. The Norman conquest signaled the end of the rule of the Saxons and introduced a new era of growth and development for the British Isles on its path to empire. I dont understand. Harry took a nervous sip of his tea. Leclerc nodded. Before I answer that, we have to explore one more thing. Harry, what is the nature of magic? The question was ambiguous and left Harry more puzzled than ever. Leclerc understood Harrys dilemma and tried to clarify the question. What I mean, Harry, is what makes us, you and I, have magical powers?

For some reason, Harrys mind raced back to the battle hed fought with Simon Clark. Its a genetic trait, something found in our DNA which can be passed from generation to generation. Right, thats part of it, but the DNA is only a small portion. We, you and I, and all the other people who are wizards or witches have DNA which makes us receptive to magic. We are conduits, channels for a mystical power which permeates the planet, much like we use wands to direct our spells more precisely, our DNA directs the natural flow of magic in the world. Now, Harry, the problem is that the well of magic that exists is finite. Theres only so much to go around. Consequently, when someone is born with the gene, somewhere, the well of power dilutes itself. Leclerc stood and walked to a point beyond the table. As he stopped, a slate chalkboard appeared out of thin air. How many wizards and witches are in England, Harry? The question came out of the blue and startled him. Roughly thirty to fifty thousand. Harry wondered where the line of questioning was going. Thirty to fifty thousand. Thats an impressive number, yet small compared to the general population. Wizards live longer and can defeat most common forms of disease and illness, so why are the numbers so small? Did you ever wonder that? Many families, like your friends the Weasleys, have many, many children, so why, after almost a thousand years since the founding of Hogwarts have the numbers been so small? Leclerc looked like a professor, standing near the slate board, quizzing an obtuse student. Harry thought for a moment then shook his head. I dont know. Thats all right, Harry, Im going to tell you. I need you to understand everything, so that, you may be the catalyst for a new millennia of growth. Harry eyed the man in front of him, becoming wary. Who are you, Leclerc? Who are you really? Me? I made the original Sorcerers Stone. Ive been around for quite a while. Ive been called many things. The Hindus call me Yamaraj while the Japanese call me Izamai. Muslims call me Azrael while the Egyptians call me Anubis. Most recently, Ive been called Karthli and Vlad the Impaler. The Peverell brothers called me Death which seems a little grandiose for my taste. Who am I? I am the keeper of the magic, the shepherd of the power on this planet. I am the arbiter and the executioner. I am here, simply, to ensure that what magic there is does not become diluted by numbers. Harry stared at the small man and shook his head. What do you mean? How do you keep the numbers from being diluted? Is this some push for purebloods? At this, Leclerc laughed out loud. Oh, heavens no, my boy. Purebloods are a misnomer, theres no such thing as a pureblood. The families that fancy themselves as pureblood simply consist of those people who survived the last culling. Pureblood indeed. The Malfoys sprang from the family of a goatherder who had a son that was a wizard. The son survived the Battle of Hastings and founded a pureblood family. Culling? What is the culling? Harry noticed the word and felt a chill when Leclerc spoke it. Thats why we are here. Every so often, I must cull the herd, so to speak. I must reduce the number of wizards and witches to preserve the power of magic. Dont you see, if left un checked, the wizarding population would grow exponentially, and the vast font of magic that exists would be distributed across a wider range. Harold of the Saxons, knew about what was required, hed even signed an oath of fealty to William the Conqueror, but he reneged on his word. Harold had

married a woman who was a witch. Her name was Weasley, if I recall, and they had a son. Harold would not allow his son to be caught up in the bloodshed, so he resisted. In doing so, thousands of his magical subjects were killed, as is our way. Four of the survivors decided to band together to prepare the population for our visits. Those survivors founded Hogwarts to ready the population for the fight ahead. Why do you think a basic school for magic would begin teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts to eleven year olds? Why was the school based in a castle? Ive even heard nonsense where Quidditch was developed to enhance combat skills. Why am I here? Why are you telling me this? Harry kept his voice ste ady, but his fear was creeping into his being. Harry, we are coming. In ten days time, I will bring an army to England and cut down the wizard population to a manageable state. In 1066, that meant roughly thirty families were left, the core of what you know as the purebloods. I plan to do it again. Leclerc waved a hand and a piece of chalk flew up and began to draw furiously on the board. When it was finished, there was the picture of a large sundial on the board. You see this? This device stops time in the real world. At dawn of the tenth day, I will be at Hastings field and I will turn that dial. There, my army will crush your army and the Armageddon will be complete and the balance will be back to normal. When Im finished with England, I will deal with Australia and America. Their wizarding populations are small, but still, they seem to be intent on breeding as much as they can over there. Make no mistake, Harry, this will happen. Leclerc returned to his seat. Why now? Harrys voice was muted, Leclercs speech had taken a lot of him. Oh, I dont know. The grand battle can be so time consuming and destructive. Ive found ways to do this in the past. The Black Death, the Inquisition, the Influenza Epidemic of 1918, those were easy to induce and did their job quite well. Recently, the so called pureblood movement helped immensely. Voldemort alone was more than enough to keep things in check. Now, thanks to you and your in-laws, you are making it easy for more and more wizards to be born. Now, you leave me no choice. Leclerc sipped his tea. What if we dont meet you at Hastings? What if we decide to fight you as we go or if we disappear all together? Why are you telling me the precise time and place youll be? What if we win the day? Harry spine was rigid, hed stood, wanting to hit this man. Either youll meet me where and when I tell you, Harry, or Ill unleash my forces on London directly, and I simply dont know what the cost in muggle lives will be. As far as telling you? Its a win-win situation for me. If you show up and fight and I win, I will have killed a great percentage of the wizarding population. If you win, which I highly doubt, since it has never happened before, the cost in lives will be dreadful enough to accomplish my task. As I see it, you have know choice. Leclerc rose and walked towards Harry. Dont get me wrong, Harry. I dont want to kill you. Harry looked at Leclerc with a look of doubt. No, really, its true. I want you to become the Godric Gryffindor of this era. Well start a new set of pureblood families with the Potter family will lead the way! Just think, a new Hogwarts where one of the great Houses is called Potter House! Youre an extraordinary wizard, Harry Potter. Im flattered. Harry mumbled. Harry stood straight and stared Leclerc in the eye. Still, if this battle has to be fought, then I will be there and I will fight. We wont let you get away with this. Well fight with everything we have and well fight to the death, well never surrender. Leclerc smiled happily. Thats what Im counting on. Farewell, Harry Potter. Well see each other soon enough.

Leclerc raised his hands and another ball of glowing white light appeared between his palms. The light coalesced and then shot right into Harrys chest, the searing hot pain expanding in his lungs causing him so scream. Soon, Harry was gone from the room. Leclerc stared at the spot where Harry had been then clapped his hands together. In the blink of an eye, he was standing in his unkempt office, once again Executive Assistant Leclerc, of the International Confederation of Wizards. A small knock came to his door, so he sat at his desk and shuffled some of the papers. Come in! The door opened, and tall, elegant woman with platinum blonde hair and sharp, ice cold blue eyes walked in. Ah, Mrs. Malfoy, Im so glad you can come. He stood and extended his hand to Domina Malfoy. She took his with two of the fingers of her hand, as if she didnt want to touch him. He chuckled. Seeing as Mr. Doge and Ms. Jones are still London, you are the senior representative of your government here in Xanadu. Leclerc waved her to a seat. What is it you want, Mr. Leclerc. Why didnt the Grand Mugwump see me himself instead of sending his lackey? Dominas voice dripped with contempt and she held his gaze firmly. Instead of being intimidated, Leclerc laughed. When the Confederation decides to excommunicate a member state, dealing with heretics is best left to lackeys. Leclerc handed a scroll of parchment to the stunned woman. It is my duty to inform you Madame Malfoy, that the International Confederation of Wizards has found Great Britain in violation of international wizarding laws and has affected a writ of excommunication. All member nations will henceforth stop all communications and commerce with the British Isles and the Ministry of Magic has ten days to surrender itself to the strictures of the Confederation. A delegation will be in London in two weeks to dictate terms. Are there any questions? Leclerc stood and opened the door. On a personal note, Mrs. Malfoy, you should have fought harder against those muggle -loving laws your Wizengamot passed. Your lack of fortitude has resulted in this tragic state. Good day, madame. Domina rose, stunned. She attempted to collect what dignity she had left and walked from the room, the scroll gripped tight in her hands. Shed fought the laws, but she didnt expect this. This was rather drastic and beyond what she had been willing to accept. She raised her nose and walked past the smiling face of Leclerc. She turned down the corridor and headed for her quarters to pack. She had to get this information to the Ministry as fast as she could. *** Harry took a deep breath and sat up abruptly. Harry! Ginny was sitting on the ground next to him, supporting his back. What happened? What was that? Harry reached over and pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly. After a moment, he stood, pulling her up with him. Dawlish was standing nearby with Williamson and Lachlan. What the devil happened to you Harry? Dawlish had a troubled look on his face and did not like the ashen pallor on Harrys own face. Im fine, but weve got to get back to the Ministry. Weve got to get everyone together. Harry paused and kissed his wife firmly, with desperate passion. He broke free and looked all around the area.

Weve got to get back now. Were running out of time. Harry started pointin g to the Aurors standing around, telling them to get going. What is it, Harry? Whats happening? Whats got you so scared? Ginny looked at her husband nervously. Shed never seen him this frightened before. Harry looked back at his friends and family, taking each one in with his fiery, glowing green eyes. Weve got to get ready. Weve got a fight on our hands and I dont know how were going to win. Harrys voice drew low, and they strained to hear him speak. Its Armageddon. Its the end of the world.