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LEGACIES: The Grim by The Dark Lord Nedved

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Format: Novel
Chapters: 30
Word Count: 178,079
Status: COMPLETED

Rating: Mature
Warnings: Strong Language, Scenes of a Sexual Nature, Strong Violence, Sensitive
Topic/Issue/Theme

Genres: Romance, Action, Angst

Characters: Draco, Ginny, Harry, Cho, Dumbledore, Hermione, James, Neville, OC, Oliver
Wood, Remus Lupin, Ron, Snape, Fred/George, Tonks, Luna, Seamus, Pansy
Pairings: Harry/Hermione

First Published: 04/27/2005

Last Chapter: 02/12/2006
Last Updated: 02/12/2006

Summary:

Every few millenia, there will be select individuals that put a mark on the course of history.
This is the ongoing tale of the Magi who was prophesized to have the Power the Dark Lord
knows not. Set in the Seventh year, Harry Potter is no longer "The Boy Who Lived", he is
becoming a living legend. Continues from The Sword of Gryffindor. FINAL CHAPTER 30
Posted 08-02-2006!!

Chapter 1: Seventeen
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CHAPTER 1: Seventeen
**

The sun was in its mid afternoon glory and the home crowd was loving every moment of
Madrid’s record breaking heat wave. The atmosphere was intimidating, the air thick with the
sort of fervor only national pride could bring.
“¡España! ... ¡España! ... ¡ESPAÑA!”

England was getting a solid thumping, and the home supporters were reveling in the stands,
the wine was flowing, the women were dancing vigorously to the Latin beat of the drums.
Most of the male wizards had abandoned any sense of decorum, and were arm in arm
around the shoulders, jumping in time to the chanting of the capacity filled stadium. The
youngest player on the losing side didn’t need one of Trelawny’s cryptic premonitions to
realize that things were not looking good. Oliver Wood was crumbling under the constant
pressure. Amy and Cho weren’t even getting close to the Spanish Goalkeeper and what in
bloody hell were those beaters doing anyway? Where was the defense? Damn! And here he
thought playing for Lionheart was fast paced. This was unbelievable!

“Goddamit Potter! You better save our asses, and better do it soon, YOU HEAR ME!? We’re
getting creamed- WATCH OUT!” Oliver Wood- their captain; and inspirational ‘keeper-
screamed, pointing behind him.

Harry didn’t need to be told twice. Without hesitation he let himself fall over to his right,
releasing his grip on the broom handle. Locking his legs at the ankles, he went into the
‘Daredevil Sloth Roll’ as not one, but two bludgers zipped past him, one from eleven o’clock
and the other from nine o’clock,one taking a big chunk out of his cape as it narrowly missed
his back. Harry could feel the tug on his English Quidditch Robes, and was extremely happy
they were top drawer; any other uniform would have dragged him along with that bludger.
As he heard the English faithful whoop at his little bit of acrobatics, the Spanish
commentator babbled away in high speed gibberish:

..Enrique pasa el quaffel a Ramon, Ramon tira muy rapido- regresalo a Enrique- Enrique
pasa a Chavez- Chavez carrerarse debajo de los beaters de la Inglaterra- ¡Torce a la
derecha! ¡ Ingleses lo perseguin !!

As the quaffle jumped from one red-and gold clad player to another, the Spaniards began to
sing as their home team sliced and diced through the comparatively poor English defense.

..¡OLÉ, OLÉ~ OLÉ~ OLÉ ~!

Harry was hard enough time seeing the snitch as it was, a bludger had gotten him a bit
earlier, and his right cheekbone was swollen almost double in size. The numbing pain would
be insignificant compared to what he would feel if they lost this game, against this
opponent, on especially this day. They were so close! Today had started off so well….

**

‘Wake up mate! You’ve got a huge day today. C’mon- c’mon, grab your gear, we’ve got to
hurry!’

‘Ron! Could you be any more immature? It’s barely eight o’clock, and they had practice all
of yesterday! He’s tired!’
‘Hermione, that was yesterday. This is today. He has to be there for two, and a match to
play at four! Which means- he has only six hours to floo over to the stadium and –“

‘Which means,’ Hermione cut in, ‘ He has more than enough time. Now if you’ll excuse me, I
think my boyfriend deserves a kiss.’

‘Aw come off it!’ Ron lamented, watching Hermione step into the bedroom. Harry was
seemingly still sound asleep, buried beneath thick blankets. Hermione crawled on top of the
bed. ‘Quidditch is more important! And at least wait until I leave for crying out loud!’ Ron
added as he grumbled out of the room, a reluctant grin on his face. After all that his mate
has been through, a little pampering was probably the best thing for him right now. But
damn, today was the semi-finals! And the two top seeds were going at it! Ron took out the
squad list. He frowned at the almost perfect statistics the opposition had. Hah! No one was
better than Harry. Not even Vicky. So this Spaniard- Enrique Vasquez- humph. He had
nothing on England’s Lions. He’ll see. When he overheard a mixture of girlish laughter and a
deeper chuckle of a masculine voice he almost retched in disgust. It was still strange to see
– or hear them- make out. Putting that aside; he smiled- today’s your day Harry, make the
most of it.

Hermione knew he was awake, and just pretending to be sleeping. With a flourish Hermione
pounced on the figure underneath the covers. She couldn’t have wished for a better
response when Harry “The Boy Who Lived” Potter screamed like a little girl.

‘Ow! It’s a leg y’know? And you’re knee is right on it!’

‘I know.’ Hermione giggled. She crawled on top of him, the thick blankets still between
them. Harry pulled it high up over his head, making it difficult for Hermione to see him.
Hermione smacked his bottom with a solid right palm, and Harry had no choice but to
retaliate. Whipping off the cover, he wrapped her up in it, hugging her close. He pinned her
against his bed in Sirius’ old room, and smiled into her eyes.

‘Is that the sort of treatment I get on my birthday?’ he joked, rubbing his backside. ‘ I
thought that was for when I was being naughty.’

Hermione blushed. She had remembered the one and only time she hit him like that before,
and at that moment they were being very naughty indeed. ‘Maybe you were. But I wanted
to wake you. It’s a very important matter.’ Harry’s happy face fell a bit, it was evident that
he was very nervous. Spain is the toughest under twenty-one squad on paper, and so far,
they demolished Scotland, Russia, and even Bulgaria by whopping margins. And he knew
personally that Victor Krum couldn’t make the difference on the day. They were dominant,
and seemingly, unstoppable. His teammates were to meet and depart for the Spanish
Quidditch stadium this afternoon. Playing against them would be their biggest game, and
the toughest. They were nigh invincible.

And it was rumored when they were on home turf- utterly merciless.

‘Yeah- the game-“ Harry said softly. He had to admit, he was kind of afraid.

‘No, it’s nothing about quidditch,’ she said softly. She smiled softly, and wrapped her hands
around his neck. With a tut-tut, she tenderly brushed aside the lock of hair that always
managed to obscure his left eye. Pulling his head low to hers, she gave him a sweet kiss-
giving him her all in that intimate gesture.
‘Happy Birthday, Harry.’

At that moment, Harry didn’t think he could have wished for a better gift than being loved
by the girl in his arms.

**

That was earlier. At this present moment, he wished he could have like maybe one hundred
and fifty more points for his team, and maybe some sort of repellant charm on Oliver’s
hoops because it felt that every time Spain got the quaffle, it was an automatic goal. And
the “new and improved” international Snitches were a ‘tad’ bit faster, and his coach just so
happened to remember ‘that minor detail’- just before their first game against Iceland, also;
Harry himself realized only after nearly two hours of searching -that the new Golden Snitch
had the ability to hide from their pursuers- a.k.a. the ‘Sneaky Snitch’ as the EQA*
affectionately named their experimental prototype. *European Quidditch Association

“ ‘Encourages more team effort’ my ass!” Harry swore aloud as he remembered the
explanation given to the players on such short notice. He had to admit a lot of the work now
centered around the chasers keeping a high scoring rate, and not depending on star seekers
to finish the game too early. ‘Please the crowds’ they said. Make some more money for the
confectionary stands and vendors.

Harry hauled himself right side up on his broom. He harrumphed loudly as he resumed his
hunting. In the corner of his eye he saw a huge Gryffindor flag in the crowd amongst the
England supporters in the guests’ half of the stands, and a very energetic red haired boy
thumping the drums in time to the chanting. Ron Weasley had his face painted white, with a
huge red cross coming down the center of his nose and across his cheeks, screaming as he
led the chorus:

“ LI- ONS!! … LI- ONS!! … LIONS!! … LIONS!!”

Harry grinned, but as he zoomed past something caught his eye- it was Hermione, and she
had on Luna’s Lion Hat. That was unexpected at least, but what was more alarming was
what she was wearing. It was international quidditch gear- And not just any ‘quidditch
gear’. He had seen her wear that once before- after all it belonged to him- it was the same
uniform she fought in at the battle of King’s Crown. And with that realization -another
flashback raced through his memory, and once again he felt that strange feeling of looking
through someone else’s eyes. But this time, he was looking at the proud looming figure of
Lord Voldemort:

You are powerful indeed, my dear. If I had only known your abilities were so great… Potter
seems worthless in comparison. That fool Dumbledore never knew what he had right under
his nose. A pity. Next time I encounter a Divine Summoner, I would be prepared. Farewell…
young one….

The bright green light of the killing curse flashed behind his eyes, and Harry immediately
snapped out of that intense dream- only to realize he was going to crash directly into the
seventh row of the stands. FUCK! He was going so fast- he had to be quick- Yanking back as
hard as possible, he taxed the braking charm for all its worth as he braced for the upcoming
impact. The people had scattered away from the crash point- most of them trampling over
each other to get out of the way – but it was a tough break for him. He wasn’t going to stop
in time! Thinking lightning fast, he decided he would just have to burst through the wooden
bleachers. With a muttered curse under his breath, his eyes blazed afire and he summoned
the Infernus

“Inciendo!”

The benches exploded into shards of wood and Harry braced himself as he crashed headfirst
into the flames.

***************

“¡CHOQUE!” The spaniard commentator screamed. The Spaniards were the first to react,
they heard ‘collision’ and usually at these high speeds, a collision was pretty nasty.
“¡ POTTER – no no no no, no -¡Urgente- Los Medicos!!” he cried. The crowd had gone silent
after a loud “oooh”, waiting to see what had really happened. The referee blasted his
whistle, and the game suddenly came to a halt, everyone was looking in the direction of the
crowd disturbance…

“Hermione!! Holy ssshii-“ Ron screamed, pointing at the smoldering hole in the bleachers.
“Did you see that?” He asked frantically. Hermione did not answer him- she was stuck in
some sort of trance. The outrageous lion hat had fallen off when she sprung to her feet-
Harry was too good of a flier to crash. But as she said it- she realized that the reason why
he crashed because he had seen her- and something about her had distracted him. And
feeling a darker presence in her mind, she knew exactly what made him lose concentration.

Voldemort. Out of nowhere, she had felt it, the distinct memory of him using the Avada
Kedavra curse on her- during their occlumency battle. And if that’s what Harry had felt-

“Hermione? Hermione! Did you just see that? Harry exploded into the stands! We’ve got to
see if he’s okay!” Ron screamed. Colin Creevey and his brother were also nearby, but only
Dennis was not at all worried about it. He threw some more popcorn into his mouth.

“Calm down. He’s tough. Probably the most powerful wizard ever.” He said nonchalantly, a
faint smile on his lips. Ron shot a sideways glance at him.

“Quit the hero worship, Dennis- can’t you see he’s hurt?” Ron said offhandedly. “Blimey,
sometimes I think you young ‘uns believe he’s superman or something…”

Dennis said nothing, but simply leaned back in his chair, slurping noisily on his drink. No
need to get all worked up. He saw what he did to those guards on his last day at Hogwarts.
And he saw him take out a dude strong enough to challenge Dumbledore. Harry was the
man. “Granger’s not worried- so why are you?” he countered. “Look-“ he pointed at her.

Ron looked over to his best friend: Dennis was right. There was a strange expression on her
face, but it wasn’t worry. It was more like- confusion. “ Hermione? You okay?”

“He knows,” She said simply. Ron was now even more confused.

**********
Harry was thrown off the broomstick as he crashed through framing of the rafters. He fell
hard- rolling numerous times before he finally extinguished himself of the fire. His body was
unscathed from his own Infernus flames, but his uniform was burnt black. As he lay there in
a heap, coughing up ash and dirt; Harry swore loudly- Christ that hurt. Trying to figure out
what was causing that piercing sensation in his left arm Harry looked down at himself. UGH-
that’s not a pretty sight. Pulling out a particularly sharp piece of wood out of his forearm
was definitely something in his ‘don’t do this at home’ books. It needed attention, but right
now, he couldn’t abandon his team. Taking a second to catch himself- he took hold and bit
down hard on his padded glove- then yanked hard. Some teeth-marks and a brand-new
wound later- Harry spent a second to thank the higher power that was manipulating the
tides of chance and writing his personal diary of fate- even though they really couldn’t give
him a break. Having a horrible vision during his biggest quidditch match ever was bad.
Crashing into those benches at full speed was also very bad. Surviving that crash with only
a nasty cut was good. His broomstick was also perfectly fine- that was also good.

Harry grinned in his classic triumphant smile. He coughed again, hard.

Sometimes, he believed that the curse scar on his forehead was something more than just a
killing spell gone horribly wrong, it really was some sort of bad luck/ good luck talisman. All
of these years, the ridiculous risks he took, the scandalous escapades he embarked on, the
numerous battles he fought through and lived to tell the tale- if a quidditch accident had
killed him, he would never rest peacefully. Laughing at the weirdness of it all; he had one
thing to thank whoever was looking out for him for- at least he could still play. Harry got up
quickly, brushed off the ash and dust of his uniform, and grabbed his broomstick. In a fluid
movement he mounted and darted back out unto the pitch.

**********

“ ‘He knows’? Knows what?” Ron asked, completely baffled. Did she really go mental this
time?

“About me. About Voldemort- about- arhg- forget about it!” She grumbled, shaking her
head. Ron was the last person to understand anything sometimes…. But even so, if there
was one thing he could be, it was persistent.

“V-Voldemort?” Ron began to panic now. “ You- Volde- Volde-..?” he couldn’t finish, his
tongue was tied.

“Yes, Voldemort. We dueled- and… and...”

“Dueled? WHEN? WHERE? HOW? HE’S DEAD!” Ron’s face was turning a deathly white.

“That night…we dueled on the psychic plane…you see...it was the Occlumency-“ she began
to explain to him. At the same time, something was happening down at the other end of the
stadium. The referee was going to investigate the situation when a blur of red, white and
brown zipped out of the hole like a bee out of a hive. Harry zoomed back out into the field,
only to realize that everyone else was down at the crash site- obviously checking to see
what happened to him. When the English faithful saw Harry emerge, a loud cheer went up
and Dennis Creevey gave a relieved Ron a smug look.

“I told you he would-“ he began. Ron cut him off.

“Keep it, junior. I’m watching the game.” He replied, dismissing any further conversation on
how worried he was for Harry. But Dennis had a point- he chuckled to himself, even though
it was highly embarrassing to show such concern. Argh! His mother was rubbing off on him.
He should’ve known Harry wouldn’t let something as trivial as a high- speed, head-on crash
into the burning stands at the biggest quidditch match for the summer stop him. For Harry,
it was just another day at the office. Ron sat back down, and folded his arms- completely
forgetting that Hermione was in a state, sitting numbly in the chair on his right. Ron forgot
about the previous topic of conversation and was now re-absorbed into the game.

“Come on lads! Get a move on- we’ve got a game to win!”

**************

Kenna Rossilini was sitting quietly in the stands, looking affectionately upwards at England’s
seeker. She hardly knew anything about quidditch, except that it looked very dangerous. In
fact, she really did not want to come, but she had missed seeing him, so she eventually
came along. It was interesting, at least, and very fast paced. But- all these men, sweaty
men, were assaulting her senses. She turned up her nose at the pot-bellied streaker who
just ran past the lowest tier, holding Spain’s flag as a cape around his shoulders. She did
laugh when a woman (who she assumed was his wife) chased him down and transfigured
him into a huge bullfrog.

“Did you see that? Very funny- it was!” she nudged the person sitting next to her.

“I’m watching the game,” came the short reply, direct, and with an air of hateful arrogance.

“Oh lighten it, you are so serious now of these days…” Kenna said offhandedly. He appeared
not to have even heard her.

It’s ‘lighten up’ – and maybe you’ll be serious too if you were locked up in Azkaban and left
to rot ...

“Draco? Is something wrong?” She asked. Draco was the only person wearing black today,
and in full mage’s cloak as well. Kenna thought he might be really insane. It was unbearably
hot. She was wearing shorts and a daring red top, a top- she noticed- had the desired effect
on most of the male specimens around, and maybe one or two of the women as well. But to
be in a thick hood and cloak in this heat was a bit overboard. When he suddenly leaned
forward with rapt interest she looked to see what had gotten his attention.

“What- what is it?’ she asked. Looking in the sky, she noticed the players had stopped.

“Potter has gone and crashed himself into the stands.” He smirked, but it was not that
which captured his fancy. Something else had bothered him. It was the mudblood….it felt as
if she was reaching out and trying to contact him-

“Wow! Is that where he crashed? I hope he is OK !” she pointed at where the fire that had
erupted. Draco cursed under his breath. So much for ‘blood is thicker than water’. “You’ve
got strange look- you feeling okay?” she enquired. Ever since the incident with the train he
was somehow feeling a strange presence sometimes peep in his head at random intervals.
He was sure it had something to do with Hermione. Draco had a very serious expression
under that hood for a fraction of a section, and Kenna had spotted it. In a flash it was gone
and Draco laughed as he saw the referee use a water spell to douse the flames.

“Using the fire to weaken the stands was a good idea.” Draco mused to himself. Once again
he turned serious. “But he was distracted by something else. I’ve seen this sort of thing
happen before- “

“What sort of thing?” she probed. Draco leaned back and laced his fingers behind his head,
talking indirectly to her.

“When he crashes during a quidditch game- it’s either one of two things. Dementors are
tickling in his knickers, or something serious just happened.… C’mon,” he said to her,
grabbing her by the elbow as he got up.

“What is this about?’ she said, reluctantly allowing herself to be dragged along.

“Something happened to Granger.”

“Her? That bitch! How do you know that?! What do you have to do with her?!” she
demanded. Draco did not even bother answering. Sometimes Kenna thought she could
control him like all the other blokes. Her little tricks would not work on him. He looked down
at his leg. The last time he saw her, his leg was broken in many places. The last time he
saw her, she had delved into his mind, and with a few words had healed him right up. Now
that was some scary as hell shit. Who was to say she wouldn’t have went inside his skull
and damned him to hell instead? Potter had lost control at the same instant he felt her
presence reaching out to his mind. And if it had something to do with Voldemort….

“Don’t you want to see the end of the game?” she said, trying to stall him from leaving.

“The golden boy is going to ‘play the hero’ and win the game,” he sighed. “ It’s so
predictable- and I refuse to watch him do it again, and again, and again. It’s frustrating.”
He grumbled.

“You’re jealous!” she squealed. Draco thought about it for a moment.

“I was. A long time ago. We are above such matters now,” he said calmly.

“So what changed ? Aren’t you two rivals anymore?”

“We’ve got an unsaid contest going on, actually, but he doesn’t know it yet.”

Kenna eyes sparkled at that comment. “ Really? What?”

“A body count.” Draco smiled evilly. “And he’s in the lead. Twenty five to eleven. But have
no fear, it’s only now started, and this is one contest I’m going to win.”

“What’s a ‘body count’?”

Draco laughed. Some things were better left unsaid. His mirth was short lived though. Over
the chanting of the Spanish supporters came a tremendous roar, immediately followed by
the commentator’s frantic shouting:

“¡ Qué golazo! ¡Potter coge el Snitch! ¡Inglaterra gana el jeugo!¡ POTTER LO HA HECHO¡”
the commentator screamed.

Draco grumbled. For once, could he not be the fucking hero?

*************

Author's note: Legacies: The Grim is back!

Chapter 2: Promises
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** CHAPTER 2: Promises**

“This place is so… exotic.”

Harry smiled at that comment. The last time he was in Madrid he was just passing through,
running away from it all. Everywhere was foreign and cold to him. Memories were a strange
thing. It made the simplest of comments turn into something deep, and thought-provoking.
This place is so...exotic. A different language, different locale- at the time, that didn’t
matter .

Back then, Hermione was lying on the hospital bed, on the very brink of death; and all
because of him. That vision cut to the bone, and deep in his gut, he knew that her father
was right. “You would be the end of her!” That one comment was like the embodiment of
everything he felt building up over the years. That was almost a year ago to this day.
Presently, Hermione was holding his hand, and both of them were enjoying their first real
‘date’. It was two days after the match, and they were having dinner on the balcony of a
trendy restaurant. They had a spectacular view, and Harry had to admit that under these
circumstances Madrid was a sight to behold.

The city lights flickered over the vast landscape, and the zipping lights of vehicles on the
freeway created an effect that breathed life into the metropolis below. The atmosphere was
balmy and warm, and Hermione was gorgeous, elegantly casual in a form-fitting dress. The
dinner was perfect, and they decided to spend a little time just being together, and looking
at the spectacular view. His coach had organized everything, sort of as a birthday present
and bonus for the “smashing display.” Harry was clueless about these sort of things. He
never went to a nice restaurant, and the only time he did go to a restaurant was his first
day by Hermione- and it just so happened that his aunt and uncle were coincidentally going
to eat there as well, spoiling his appetite. To top it off, he got into a fight with Dudley. He
remembered that he felt really out of place in an old t-shirt and jeans, while everyone else
was nicely dressed. So, he decided to go and asked some of his more experienced
teammates give him pointers on what sort of clothes to wear and table etiquette. It would
be the last time he would do something as stupid as that.

****
“Umm.. hey guys,” said Harry. He was hoping to bring his little problem to them as
discreetly as possible. Richardson gave him a nasty look. Somehow he had found out before
Harry had a chance to tell them.

“You lucky bugger. How come I didn’t get an all expense dinner at a fancy shmancy
restaurant?”

“Come on, give him a break. He did win the game… and it was his birthday to boot…” Oliver
Wood reprimanded his beater. “What’s up Harry?”

Harry felt kind of guilty that only he got a dinner courtesy of the coaching staff. He didn’t
want the others to feel that he had special treatment.

“Uh- maybe I shouldn’t bother you guys…” Harry trailed off. It already felt like a bad idea…

“Come on, spill it!” Oliver encouraged him.

“Only if you don’t laugh.” Harry sighed.

“We promise.” Already the other guys were snickering behind their mustaches.

“Umm…I need some pointers. So.. I want it to be special, and not to disappoint Hermione. I
treated her horribly for the past year, And…um...any tips on what I should wear...and what
fork to use-“

As soon as he said it, all the guys began to break out in raucous laughter. It was
embarrassing to say the least. They laughed so hard at him that his face burned red, and he
wished he could have slugged each and every one of them. Amy sauntered across, curious
about what was all the ruckas about. Cho followed shortly after.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Amy barked. She realized only Harry was not laughing,
and looking pretty embarrassed. “ Harry- why are they getting on like such idiots?”

Cantonma sputtered, trying to hold in his mirth. “Potter- ha ha - here…needs..um.. pointers

for his date.. I could give him pointers...but it has nothing to do with dinner...” he laughed.

“Maybe you should write poetry and sing love songs too-!” Richardson guffawed.

“Harry, mate…that would have been the last thing I would ever have imagined you to
ask….Lordy-“ Oliver teased.

“Forget it!” Harry spat, and stormed out. Cho and Amy felt for him, and ran to catch up.

“Harry, don’t mind them. I think what you’re trying to do for Hermione is sweet. She really
did have a rough time last year,” Cho consoled him, touching him on his arm. “ If only Ron
tried to do something like that for me, I would appreciate it. So don’t you go and listen to
those prats. Maybe a little romance is what she needs.”

“Chang’s right,” Amy said. “Let’s go.”

Harry turned. ”Go where?”

“Shopping, of course!” She replied with gusto. “How many times does a girl get to dress up
Harry potter? Come on Cho, let’s go and make him sexy for his date!”

And with that, they each wrapped an arm around his elbows and dragged him out of the
hotel. Harry grimaced. Shopping- He hated shopping!

Later that night Harry had to admit the look on Hermione’s face when he picked her up was
worth it. She was absolutely awestruck. She half expected a baggy jeans and t-shirt, or no-
nonsense Auror robes. Harry looked – there was no other word- handsome!

“Hi,” Harry said, a bit nervous. He had on dark navy slacks, and a matching vest and jacket
to accompany it. His hair was actually neat- how in the world did he do that? and he wore a
pair of classy shoes instead of his favourite horntail boots.

“Hi...” Hermione breathed, she still could not believe it. When Harry presented her with a
single rose from behind his back she could swear she felt a tear run down her cheek. Even
the fact that there was a Ministry SUV’s as their ride instead of Harry’s motorbike was a nice
touch. Harry really tried hard to make this a memorable night, and it showed. She felt really
special, because as far as she knew, Harry never really went all out like this for anyone.
Hermione accepted the flower, and laid her hand gently on the crook of his elbow.

Harry grinned inwardly- YES! Mission One- The Pickup- Accomplished!! Cho and Amy’s plan
was working well, so far. From here on; it was just to keep things simple, and not to mess
up. Now what he needed to do was compliment her. Being careful so that he didn't spoil the
mood, he chose his words carefully:

“Um- You look very pretty.”

As soon as it came out, he realized it sounded pretty tame. Hermione glanced at him, and
he thought that maybe she thought the same, but his worries were quelled when she smiled
up at him, and said a soft “Thank you.” Harry grinned in spite of himself. He didn’t screw
up- yet. That was good. She really was beautiful, and not only in her physical appearance.
Her inner beauty shone through, and everyone in her presence could sense it. He was so
lucky, and he needed to really begin appreciating her more. How many guys could say that
their girlfriend will do anything to save their life? Putting those deeper thoughts aside, he
focused enjoying the night, and treating her nice for a change.

****

“Harry… Harry?”

“Huh?” Harry snapped out of his memory.

“You seemed lost for a second. Anyway, as I was saying, the Spanish wizards used a lot of
their culture in their magic- I mean- music, dancing, that sort of thing. I think that’s why
their team was so strong, the chanting and singing may have been a hidden spell used to
drive their team on, make them faster, more accurate. What do you think?”

“Yeah- maybe you’re right. Ron said something about when they were on home turf they
had a winning streak for a long while-“

“Exactly. I read somewhere that not all magic was done by a single wizard. I mean, there
obviously must be some sort of spells that only a large number of people could do at a time-
and where else other than a stadium would you get a large number of people wanting the
same thing?”

Harry smiled at her. Here they were, in the afterglow of dinner, and already her mind
instinctively went back to academics and the lore of magic. Right now, he wanted to enjoy
life as normally as possible, without these ‘wizard’ pressures on him. Just live for the
moment. He squeezed her hand affectionately.

Hermione paused, and glanced down at their entwined fingers. “Hmm? What was that for?”
Harry was looking at her strangely, a sort of wistful expression on her face.

“This may sound strange, but I needed to ask you. Did you ever think we would be
together?”

Wow. Now that was a change of topic. Hermione thought for a second, her mind racing.
Should she tell him? Or bluff it off?

“I’m not sure. I loved you guys to death, but I couldn’t say that I ‘knew’ before hand that I
would choose you.”

“ I remember before the tri wizard competition Krum asked me if you were my girlfriend. I
had found it strange he asked me that. As far as I know, he never asked Ron the same
thing. Then it was the whole ‘crush on Cho’ fiasco. She really got angry when I said I had to
meet you for the DA meeting. She seemed a bit jealous in fact. I just wanted to know, was
there something going on between us ever since then?”

Hermione sighed. Her feelings were so volatile at the time. Books were her passion in life.
When she began to have mixed feelings it was hard. When neither of her friends asked her
to the dance, she inwardly thought that she wasn’t pretty enough, or wasn’t considered a
girl in their eyes. When Ron miraculously realized that “she was a girl, and could just ‘go’
with one of them”, irked her to say the least. They thought of her as second rate! Harry
didn’t even think about her at the time.

“I’m not sure. I did admire you, I thought you were a hero.”

“Ha. Some hero I turned out to be.” Harry mused, looking at the calluses on his right hand.
Flashes of the dead raced across his memory, and his eyes began to glow.

Do not forget our purpose...young Potter…

“Harry?” Hermione touched his arm, and the images vanished, his eyes reverting to normal.
He stared at his hand again, that gnawing feeling building up inside. Solidus’ power
simmered beneath the surface, and Harry had to mentally calm himself. That voice….

“Harry, is something wrong?” she asked again, a bit more concerned this time. Harry put on
a nice smile and looked into her eyes.

“No- nothing. I did feel something for you back then, but I guess I thought you were off
limits. Something about you made me feel calmer, more at peace. I don’t know if that was
really a turning point, but after the department of mysteries, knowing that you came with
me even though you had doubts, sealed it. Somehow, I knew that my feelings ran deeper…
and now I’m glad that we made it this far. I want to make you happy, and if I could do that
everyday, I’d be happy too.”

Hermione smiled. His choice of words was strange, but the meaning behind them was what
really mattered. Their love was initially based on a strong friendship, and the desire to be
happy together, no matter the circumstances. Was this what love is? She knew he would do
anything for her, and she would do the same for him. They proved it over the years. But
aside from that, Harry confided in her, and trusted her implicitly with his life. For the boy
prophesised to defeat the Dark Lord, that was a heavy burden to carry, after all, his life was
constantly in peril.

“Maybe, maybe, tonight, we could make a promise,” she ventured.

“What’s that?”

“No matter what happens, we’ll promise that we’ll try and make each other happy, and look
out for each other, even though we may be far apart. No matter what.”

That sounds like a reasonable request. After all, it was the least he could do.

“I promise.” And with that, they sealed it with a kiss.

************

At the beginning of August, one woman was marching briskly through in the relatively
empty halls of the Lionheart Order of Sorcery. She needed to have a quick word with one of
the professors. When she reached her destination, she didn’t even bother to knock and
allowed herself in.

“Mr. Lebeau, why aren’t your potions working?” Madame Diggory was furious. “Potter is
supposed to forget about his prior life, not go back and play Quidditch! What’s going on?”
She slammed this month’s Quidditch Monthly on the Potions master’s desk. He looked at her
in mild curiosity, raising his eyes from the paper he was marking before being so rudely
interrupted.

“Well, madame minister, you did tell me not to overdo it, and I did tell you it would take
some time. I have stopped all of his incoming mail, and while he is here at Lionheart, he
seems quite content not to hear from anyone, so the potions are working- to an extent.”

“At this rate- I would be old and grey by the time he is ready!” Sherry Diggory cursed. “I
swore on my husband’s grave that I would rid this world of the filth- and behold- some
extremely powerful wizard goes and breaks out the most dangerous criminals on the
planet!”

“Oh? And I thought the Daily Prophet said it was a hurricane,” Lebeau snickered.

“You know damn well that hurricanes could never form in such cold waters. And don’t quote
that ridiculous statement about ‘we have this under control’, either. The dementors of
Azkaban were the only true way of imprisoning a wizard, and now some one has gone and
destroyed their natural habitat. That’s why we need Potter! To deal with these sort of
wizards! The more we allow him to run about is the more people that are going to be killed
by these lunatic criminals! I don’t want to see his face on the cover of Quidditch Monthly! I
want to see his name in our Unmentionables Hit squad! He should be my weapon- not some
sort of celebrity!”

'My weapon?' the potions master thought. Lebeau looked into her fierce eyes with a tinge of
mistrust.. “Madame, he is still a young man. What has he done to make you hate him so?”
He was beginning to worry about her.

“Do not mind that. When he returns, I want to see improvement. Do you want to see
another incident like what happened to the Hogwarts Express?”

“No Madame, ” he answered fearfully. His daughter was on that train…

“Did you know that he single-handedly fought off the attackers? His power is extraordinary.
And he hasn’t even learnt the more powerful spells at Lionheart yet. I want him molded,
and in my control before he is the age of twenty years. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Madame Minister.” And with that, she stormed out of his office. Lebeau was happy to
see her go.

“Anything you say, Madame Minister…” he mocked spitefully after she left, the animosity
dripping in his tone. “You want it, you got it.”

***********

Many miles away, at the outskirts of Surrey, England there was another sort of meeting
going on.

“Dursley! Your project was inspected and looked pretty good- for an English. Now, are you
ready to detonate?” McMahon asked the beefy lad.

“Sure, it works, I tell you.”

“Cut that cocky attitude, we don’t suffer arrogance ‘ere. Now- go on- blow it up.” He
indicated at the old car in the middle of the dump. “Don’t mess this up, laddie. You got a lot
of potential.”

Dudley held the home- made remote control in his shaking hands- praying to god that it
worked. He didn’t want to be the only English- and incompetent- guy here. The only respect
he got from these guys was that he could slug it barehanded like the rest of them. If he
wanted to do what he need to do, he had to prove that he could go all the way.

With a deep breath, he extended the antennae and pressed the button. For a long while
nothing happened. He was beginning to get scared now. They loved any excuse to ‘toughen’
up someone.

“Well, Dursley , it seems-“

Before he could continue, there was a deafening boom, and the car exploded into a large
fireball. Most of the guys ducked reflexively, and covered their ears from the ringing in their
head. Dudley crouched low, his hands clamped at the side of his head. With the reflection of
fire in his eyes, he knew that the first step was taken.

“Told you it would work,” he said quietly, a smug smile on his face.

“Blimey,” McMahon said. “All right lads; let’s clear out before the police arrive. Next week!”
Everyone dispersed their separate ways, and Dudley ran off back through the back streets
to catch the bus back into Little Whinging. He never felt that sort of rush, it was absolutely
the most intense feeling. He had done that. With his own two hands, he built the bomb, and
the detonator, and destroyed that old car. Dudley congratulated himself as he boarded the
bus. He would have his revenge.

************

The summer was very hectic for Harry. The first leg of the under-twenty European
championship final was a week away, and he still had some scrolls of parchment to write up
on for Infiltration class at Lionheart. He spent most of his time at the training grounds, then
afterwards maybe meet up with Ron and the gang at Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes. After
that, he would head home to Grimmauld place for some deserved rest and a bit of
homework. He was feeling pretty anxious about the next few weeks- there was the
Quidditch final- and he was going to begin Apparation lessons with Hermione and most of
the people from his year at school. As he barely got a chance to see them or talk to them
since he left, it felt like a re-union of some sort.

Funny thing is, it felt like he was gone for such a long time- he could barely remember some
of the more interesting moments in between them. Strange.

As he pushed in the key for the invisible entrance to Sirius’ place, he felt his medallion ebb
slightly in power. Dumbledore and the others were here. He felt a bit nervous, were they
having an impromptu meeting?

“Hello?” he called out into his own house as he closed the door behind him. A few of the
overhead chandeliers were on, someone was definitely here. “ Professor?”

“Come, come Harry, we’re in the drawing room.”

So it was Professor Dumbledore. I wonder who else is here-

When he entered the drawing room, he stopped short. The room was filled with wizards,
some he recognized, many he did not. Who were all these people? ”What’s going on?” Harry
enquired, looking at all the faces staring back at him.

“Harry, we need to have a talk. It’s about Draco Malfoy.”

*************
Chapter 3: The Seal Of The Infernus
[View Online]  [Printer Friendly Version of This Chapter]

** CHAPTER 3: The Seal of the Infernus**

Sometimes, Harry wished he could just crawl inside a hole and disappear. Now was such a
time. Especially when the entire Order of the Phoenix were breathing down on his neck,
their faces grim with the nature of business at hand.

“M-Malfoy?” Harry sputtered. If they had found out about what he had done to Azkaban….

“Yes indeed,” Dumbledore pulled on his beard, his brow creased in thought. With a wave of
his hand, a cushy armchair appeared at his side. Without preamble, he immediately took his
seat. “Care for a seat?” Professor Dumbledore offered. Harry shook his head slowly, he liked
the bit of distance between him and some of the most powerful wizards on the planet,
especially when none of them were smiling.

“No thanks, I’m p-pretty good here, if it’s okay with you,” Harry said shakily. Dumbledore
shrugged, and glanced over at Nymphadora Tonks.

“Well this may take a while, so maybe you would like to sit,” Tonks added, her face weary.

What was it with them? He didn’t feel like sitting! That’s all-

Harry looked at her in the eyes, and she smiled nervously back at him. Maybe , to put
everyone at ease, he should do as asked. He sighed loudly, then grabbed a seat, dragging it
roughly over the carpet so that it was facing the professor closely. “There. I’m sitting. Can
you guys tell me what this is all about?” he asked in a strained, yet polite tone.

“After the incident at the Hogwarts express, something about what young Malfoy said made
me realize that he was definitely in control and knew what he was doing. Things are
becoming, how should I say it...complicated,” said Dumbledore. “Since the attack, the Order
members, including myself, have carried out investigations as to what happened to him
after defeating Voldemort on New Year’s Day. As you may recall, your injuries were quite
severe….”

They were?

Harry looked back at the professor for a second- then it clicked. In the lab, with that
scientist- What was his name again?…

“Yes, of course I remember,” Harry answered, not quite too confident if he did remember or
not.

“Draco also was seriously injured. He was stunned unconscious, still under the Imperious
curse, and then Voldemort was defeated shortly afterwards- inflicting a severe trauma
known as Lobotomia. ”
“Lobotomia? ” Harry asked, not knowing what that meant. Tonks stepped forward and
cleared her throat.

“When a curse, or strong hypnosis, or any type of mind enhancement spell is disengaged by
violent death of the spellcaster. Mind Alteration- a very strong and very sensitive area of
magic- is extremely hard to master,” Tonks said, her eyes dipped low.

“Indeed, Occlumency and Leglimency are branches of mind alteration- so are telepathy and
telekinesis. And when taken to the extreme – also is the area of magic used for the
foundation of the Imperius curse. Remember the difficulties you had in learning with
Professor Snape? The headaches? Imagine that pain tenfold- that is what happens when
someone is forcefully ripped out from under that level of mind control. In many cases it may
be so severe that the chances of survival are next to none.” Dumbledore leaned forward to
make this next point clear. “We have a task that we may need you to help us with- but, you
must agree to it before we tell you more details. Too much information may be more
detrimental than helpful right now. I need you to trust me. Will you do it?”

Harry looked back squarely into his headmaster’s face. Now this what they meant about
being part of the order was not all heroics and bravery. Mrs Weasley harped on all about the
dangers and responsibilities and so forth, but now that he was on the spot, Harry had the
feeling that maybe he was too young for this. His heart picked up pace, and he could feel
the clamminess of sweat trickling down his back. This was a matter of trust, and he knew,
deep down, that he was being tested. Feeling cornered and treated a bit unfairly- after all-
he did do the impossible and defeated Voldemort- he took a deep breath and called upon his
wits to make the decision, not his gut feeling that was telling him one thing:

DON’T DO IT! DON’T DO IT! TELL HIM NO!

“I will do it.”

Everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief, and Dumbledore relaxed a bit, but just barely.
“Very well. Here are the details: After the battle at the train, we realized that Draco was
acting under his own free will. Your friend Ron Weasley inadvertently attacked him- and
surprisingly, Draco did not slaughter him on the spot as retaliation. As you found out earlier,
all of the students at Hogwarts had their memories slightly modified to forget everything
about him. Thinking he was one of the rogue escapees from Azkaban, Ron immediately tried
to dispatch of him using a very dangerous spell. If Voldemort was still somehow possessing
him- such actions would not go without consequences. And- when I tried to delve into his
mind to exorcise any remnants of the Imperius curse- there were only haunts of
Voldemort’s presence, but all in all, Malfoy was quite sane and in control, yet wanted me
very much dead. This, I found to be quite strange. For what purpose, other than
Voldemort’s lingering hatred, would he want me dead? I gathered that this was deeper than
what meets the eye.”

Harry soaked it all in, was Malfoy really out to kill the headmaster? Or was it something
else…

“Our intelligence gathering specialists, Tonks-“ she nodded at mention of her name – “Percy
–“ Harry sneered at the mention of his name- “ Julie-Ann and Joseph…” Harry looked across
to where two unfamiliar adults stood, their faces half concealed by large scarves wrapped
around their nose and mouths “...have obtained vital clues about his circumstances. After
being subjected to the Chamber of Iralem, Hargreaves, one of the more shady scientists at
the Ministry of Magic, experimented on Malfoy, then covered it all up by sending him to
Azkaban.”

Harry put on a fake shocked expression. He knew all of this of course, but didn’t really tell
anyone, except Hermione.

“Now, it may or may not have been a mistake to try and neutralize his Infernus ability, but
one thing is certain, I never gave any instructions for him to be sent to that horrible place.
This- I fear, is the reason he wants me killed. Maybe he thinks that I am responsible for his
imprisonment. It may be destiny that young master Malfoy and I are to cross wands again,
but I do not want any more violence or blood to be shed. So this is what you have to do:
It’s a recruiting mission.”

Harry froze- they wanted him to recruit Draco?! Ha! Fat chance.

“What?” said Harry, still not believing it. Remus stepped forward and stooped to speak
softly next to him.

“Listen, this may be the only real solution to our predicament. Our last contact with Draco
was a sighting in Madrid, presumably for the Quidditch match. Oh by the way- smashing job
Harry!” Remus said.

“Yes! Good show lad, cheers!” one piped from the crowd.

“Aye- fine catch it was…!” said another.

“Oh that reminds me, my daughter asked me to get an autograph...” an elderly wizard said.

“Er –thanks.” Harry cut them off. Leave the niceties for when he was feeling in a ‘nice’
mood. Now was not the time.

Dumbledore cleared his throat loudly, and everybody simmered down, remembering the
reason why they were here.

“Now as I was saying…your first mission for the Order will be a difficult one- or it may not, it
depends on how you use your wits. Remember Harry, most battles are won before even
throwing the first blow. Its up here” – he tapped his temple- “ that decides the outcome.”
Dumbledore steeped his fingers under his nose, and gave Harry a piercing stare.

“So what do I do?” Harry asked, his nerves slowly changing from being apprehensive and
uncertain, and now transformed into a battle-tense tingling. He’s been through hell and
back before, Harry was confident that he would succeed.

Or at least he hoped so.

“Watch over him. Get him to join the ranks at Lionheart, and do what you two have always
done ... Compete. Strive to be the best, and in turn, he will strive to better you. All you
need to do Harry, is get him to sign up at the Auror Academy. From there, we will always be
able to monitor him, and I daresay he won’t do anything rash and dangerous if he knows
you are nearby.”

Harry’s spirit rose at those last words. Dumbledore and the others thought of him highly
enough to handle Draco. Maybe that was just the encouragement he needed. Truthfully, it
didn’t seem all that hard.
“So basically all I have to do is get him to apply, and just keep an eye on him, right?”

Dumbledore hesitated, but smiled and nodded reassuringly. “Exactly. Any more questions?”

“Yeah. What happens if he doesn’t want to co-operate?”

Everyone turned deathly silent at those words. Harry felt the sudden drop in levity, and a
serious air settled like a mist around the wizards crammed into the room.

Dumbledore’s eyes turned stone cold, and he said softly, ”Let us cross that hurdle, if and
when it comes to pass. Don’t worry, you’ll be all right. We trust you.” They locked eyes for a
second, and Harry knew instinctively what may happen if he failed.

For yet another time in this ongoing rivalry, one of them will have to give their best to save
the other’s life. The last time they met he had nearly killed Draco. Hopefully, the git didn’t
hold anything against him. Maybe this won’t be as easy as he thought, Harry told himself.
Draco definitely was a wild card if left unchecked. A rogue Slytherin was bad enough as it is.
A rogue Slytherin who controlled the Infernus was even worse. Now was not the time for
self-doubts. With a release of pent up breath, Harry nodded, and Dumbledore placed a
reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“Very well. Talk to him, man to man. You never know, he may surprise you in his response.”
The Headmaster rose from his chair, and the Order of the Phoenix filed out quietly out of
the room. Tonks was the last to go, and waited until everyone left before she approached
him.

“Hey,” she said, smiling.

“Hey,” Harry replied wearily. He was suddenly feeling under a lot of pressure. Slowly, she
tiptoed a bit and kissed him on his cheek. Harry didn’t expect that. “Huh?”

“Harry belated birthday, Harry,” she said, and presented him with a gift-wrapped parcel.
“Go on, open it!” she encouraged him, and Harry took it from her hands. He tore them
open, and opened a neatly wrapped package. They were books. One was a diary of some
sort, covered in a classic leather with a masculine look and feel to it, the other was 'The
Greatest Wizards through the Ages' - a book about legendary tales of wizards throughout
time, and finally, a strange muggle paperback book. On the cover read: “How to be a Good
Godfather” . Harry frowned. The other two books he could understand…but this…?

“I hope you’ll read that one before the end of this year.”

Harry was even more confused. “What did you give me this for? I’m not anyone’s godfa….”
He stopped halfway through the sentence, understanding slowly dawning on his face. His
eyes darted to the book cover, then to Tonks’ blushing face, then to her stomach.

She was pregnant? Holy…when did that happen?!

“On behalf of myself and Remus, we’d love for you to be our baby’s Godfather,” she said
softly, looking up into his eyes. Harry could not believe it. They wanted him to be their
baby’s godfather? He just turned seventeen! He didn’t know what to say. After seeing the
hopeful expression shine through her eyes, he immediately knew exactly what to say. The
tiredness that was beginning to swamp him disappeared and he smiled and gave her a
warm embrace.

“I’d be honoured, Nymphadora…”

*************

This is it.

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! WELCOME TO THE FINALS OF THE EUROPEAN UNDER TWENTY
ONE QUIDDITCH CUP! “

Harry stood at the exit of the tunnel leading to the Quidditch Pitch. His captain, Oliver
Wood, was at his side, and in that fleeting moment of intense emotion he felt the exact
same butterflies of his first year at Hogwarts. He couldn’t believe he made it this far,
through all the escapades, through all the brushes with death, he just could not believe that
he was here; standing on this spot. This was another crowning point in his life. If someone
had told him before his eleventh birthday that he was destined to become someone
important he would have maybe slunk away into his cupboard and cried. His life meant
nothing before Hogwarts.

“AND NOW…..FOR THE VISITING TEAM, IRELAND! I BRING YOU JANSEN! –POLLOCK!-
IBRAHIM!- THOMPSON!- KELSING!- HUHGES! AAAAAND HARTE!!

The away supporters roared their appreciation of their championship contenders, they were
extremely confident that their nation could get a brace of Trophies two years apart. They
already had the World Cup from two years back, now it was time for their next generation
of Quidditch stars to come into the limelight. Goosebumps rose on Harry’s arms, and he felt
his reservoir of magic warm to the euphoria coursing through him now. He closed his eyes
against the brilliant sunshine, tilting his face to be bathed in the sun’s glory.

Mom…Dad…this is for you…

“All right Harry?” said Oliver Wood .Harry remained silent, his eyes still closed, his fist
clenching once as the crowd began to chant:

LIONS! LIONS! –LLIONS!!

“Harry?”

Harry reopened his eyes, and looked straight ahead, his excitement written all over his face.
This was his dream. This was his time. Nothing else mattered right now, he was in his
element, and now he was invincible. There was no fear. With a twinkle in his eye, and an
even, steady voice, he answered his teammate. “Never better, mate. Never better. Lets do
this!”

“ENGLAND! PLEASE GIVE A ROUND OF APPLAUSE FOR OUR NATIONAL TEAM! IT HAS BEEN
TWENY FOUR YEARS SINCE THE BATTLE OF BERLIN, AND NOW IT HAS COME BACK FULL
CIRCLE!! WITH A RECORD OF 5-2-0 AND FOUR HUNDRED AND TEN ACCUMULATIVE POINT
DIFFERENTIAL –PLEASE WELCOME YOUR ENGLISH LIONS! WITH CAPTAIN OLIVER WOOD,
BEATERS- RICHARDSON AND MORRISON, CHASERS- CHANG, GRAMBLE AND JEMSON!”

The players darted off unto the pitch when their respective names were called, and in that
split before his name was called, he felt a presence laugh in the back of his mind. It was
more of a bark than a real laugh and he knew exactly who it was.

“Do me proud, Harry...”

“AAAND- POTTER!!”

Harry mounted instantly and zoomed off unto the pitch. He still could not believe it- this
feeling of being watched by everyone, thousands of faces contorted in national pride. How
the mere announcement of his name could make all these people scream at the top of their
lungs he would never know. His blood surged through his veins as he felt the cacophony of
voices create a roaring sound, a sound that he knew he would remember to the last of his
days. There was nothing like it- that feeling of hearing your name being chanted from so
many voices. He didn’t know if he should be flattered or embarrassed, all he knew that
there were a LOT of people here, and they were counting on him.

And with that- the whistle blew, and the match was on.

***********

“Draco, why you always do that?”

He glanced across to his sister, but did not answer her, turning his face forward again such
that his hood was blocking any view of his face. After a few moments of silence he
answered softly.

“Do what?”

“This…what you are doing now. It is so ..ahh..creepy…don’t you feel ahh happy? No no no..
excited?”

Draco smiled underneath his hood. He had to admit the Quidditch atmosphere was giving
him memories of the good old days of Hogwarts, but it didn’t feel the same when he was
not actively competing against him.

“Watch the game.” He dismissed her quite bluntly.

“You’re no fun. I will be going down a few chairs.” She spotted some of her year four-into-
five classmates a bit further down. Look, the guy with the camera and his little brother. She
just loved to tease them. “Be back in a bit!” Kenna walked down to where Dennis and Colin
Creevey were sitting, right in front of Marrietta and that Luna girl. Dennis had nearly all of
her classes, and she found him to be such a cute little boy. As heads turned and catcalls
followed her down the main stairs she ignored them all, smiling to herself. She wore a
tighter than skin white jeans, and a read halter top. She may be Italian, but when in
England, do as the English do.

“Hi,” she breathed, as she sat in the empty seat next to Dennis. Colin turned at her voice,
and his eyes noticeably widened. Dennis glanced across at her, and turned his attention
back to the match, trying not to notice how gorgeous she really was. The older Creevey
brother smiled and greeted her.

“Hi!” he said enthusiastically. “Enjoying the match?”

“Very.” She smiled back, looking across Dennis to talk to Colin. Suddenly there was a roar
of appreciation from the visitors and the English simmered down a bit. Ireland had scored
again, and it was now 60- 10. “ Aahh- no. Ireland in the lead, yes?” She asked, turning her
head slightly to look directly at Dennis, who was beginning to feel quite heated so close to
this particular girl. “Dennis? How are you?” she asked, straightening a crease on the
shoulder of his supporters’ jersey. Dennis gulped.

“I’m fine,” he answered. “Eh- How are you doing?” he asked, trying to make small talk.

“It’s soo hot in here. Don’t you think?” she fanned herself, a sexy sheen appearing just
below her collarbone.

Christ that was so cliché, but from her it’s damn sexy….

“um- I have a soda, if you want to share…” he offered, trying his best to keep his eyes off of
her. Whoo boy…

“Thank you,” she said, taking the large cup out of his hands. When she placed her lips
around the straw Colin and Dennis’ jaws dropped a few inches. She returned the drink to
him, and Colin absentmindedly took it, his eyes never leaving her lips. When it slipped right
out of his hands and fell at his feet Kenna giggled and Colin burned red. Thinking off himself
as a clumsy git, he mentally smacked his head a couple times with his palm.

Stupid! You Idiot! You want to be the next DA instructor and do something as clumsy as
this in front of her?! Get your act together, Colin! At this rate, you’ll never be as strong as
Harry! Harry would have totally ignored her and not fall for her tricks! Just watch the game
and forget about her. Colin shook his head in self disgust.

Kenna turned around to chat with some of the other Ravenclaw girls. She laughed with
some of them about some thing or the other, and then looked further down the aisle at the
red haired girl who was watching her intently. Another of the Weasley gang: what was her
name? Ginny? With an expression of extreme malice, Kenna looked directly at her. Their
eyes locked, and both broke eye contact at the same time. She had no love for any of
Granger’s friends. Well, maybe except Dennis, he was so cute!

************

Harry zipped around the Irish hoops, frantically searching for the “Sneaky Snitch” as they so
affectionately named it. This match was far less intimidating than the semifinals against
Spain, but there was the extra factor that he had to consider. They had a solid core team,
the best goalkeeper on paper, and as the rankings had it, the second best seeker to Viktor
Krum. Spain’s seeker was not their main strike force; it was the combination of their superb
defense and their trademark unusual dual bludger attack. Combined with two of the fastest
chasers from Diablos QC, Spain had nearly the complete package. Ireland were more
experienced, and they drafted their World Cup winning coach to take charge for their under
twenty one team. In addition to all of that, Harte, their seeker, was absolutely top drawer.

Harry had a fight on his hands.

************

“Okay Hermione,” Ron said in a clear ‘do-you-understand-me?’ tone. “Do not, and I repeat-
DO NOT- do this Divine Summoning thing again.”

Hermione sighed. “ Ron, I didn’t do it on purpose. I felt Draco nearby, and

something...something about him- triggered that memory. I told you before- It wasn’t my
fault!” Hermione looked exasperated. Ron’s attention was already back on the game, and
Hermione grumbled about how he had such a one-track mind. “Ginny? What is it?”
Hermione looked over at her, and by the expression on her face, Hermione knew that
something had irritated her.

“Rossilini. Why does she always have to do that to Dennis?” Ginny snarled. “ He such a
good hearted guy. And I think he has a crush on her. She just turns him on and leaves him
hanging.”

Hermione’s eyes narrowed on Kenna Rossilini. She never knew how it felt to be the center
of attention during Hogwarts, well except the Yule Ball, but she found it unfair how one girl
could command so much influence over boys. If not for the time when she delved into her
mind, Hermione may not have believed that there was such a thing such as a magical ability
to seduce men. Trying not to think about Harry’s little “escapade” with her, she left Ginny to
grumble by herself. She just hoped that Harry would be okay, one crash was enough for the
summer.

*************

After nearly an hour of toe-to-toe competition between the teams, Draco felt the medallion
of the Order of The Phoenix warm slightly against his chest. Potter was getting agitated.
That is good. Soon this will be over, and he’ll be able to have a few words. Something was
still not right about this whole messed up situation. He needed to know what really
happened to him for those months that he couldn’t remember. And how in the world could
he fly? The moment he saw Dumbledore he felt a presence enter his mind, and it magic
surged through to him, making him much more powerful than he had ever felt before. His
back had produced a new Infernus tattoo, the symbol of an 8th tier Summoner. Compared
to being only a second level Summoner two years ago, that was a remarkable increase.

And he knew in his gut Harry was hiding something from him. For some reason, he was the
hardest person to get into contact with these days. Not that he tried overly hard, but there
were potholes in his memory that he needed filled. With a sigh, he slowly got up from his
seat and ambled down the stairs to get his sister. The match would be over soon, and he
needed her help to get past the security without causing too much of a ruckas. Sometimes
she was good for things like that. He approached silently behind her, and she was speaking
huskily to one of those bratty Gryffindors. He overheard the last snippets of her
conversation before putting it to a stop.

“…your eyes, Dennis... they are really nice, you know that?”

“Come on,” He ordered. Kenna almost jumped out of her seat. Her brother knew how to
sneak up on people all right.

“Don’t scare me like that!”

Dennis looked up at the stranger dressed in a thick black cloak and hood, his face barely
discernible underneath the shadows. Squinting, he peered hard to make out the face. “Who
is that?” he asked Kenna.

“Oh, don’t mind him. He’s just my brother,” she said light heartedly.

“You have a brother?” Colin asked incredulously. Draco stiffened. First Weasley, now this
little mudblood? What was this, some sort of epidemic? This was getting ridiculous. He
pulled back his hood.

“You don’t know who I am?”

“Should I ?” Colin asked, looking quizzically at his face. Dennis looked intently at his face,
and recognition dawned immediately.

“YOU!” Dennis screamed, jumping to his feet. “YOU’RE THE ONE WHO ATTACKED THE
PROFESSOR!” In a flash he drew his wand, and had it pointed directly under his chin.
“STUPE-! “

He didn’t get a chance to finish. Draco backhanded the wand out of his grasp without much
of an effort. It fell on Luna’s lap in the row behind, the girls' eyes shot up at him, slowly
realizing that a fight was going to start. They were a bit frozen at first- but eventually came
to their senses. No one was going to attack a fellow DA member and get away with it! In
the blink of an eye, everyone in the vicinity who went to Hogwarts was standing up, all of
their wands trained on the guy in the dark robes.

Draco’s expression did not change an inch. He stood there completely surrounded by
enraged students, who on the drop of a pin, would stun him into oblivion.

“Watch it mister,” Colin warned. “ That’s my brother you’re messing with.”

“Is it?” Draco asked politely, his face completely neutral.

“Yes it is,” he replied. “And we were trained by the best!” he added, motioning towards all
his fellow DA members.

“Do you know who I am?” Draco asked.

“No, neither do I care.” He retorted. Luna was trying to get a good look at his face, her
wand dropping ever so slightly as recognition dawned. Wait- wasn’t that…

Draco nonchalantly lifted his hand straight out to the Quidditch Pitch, his irritation growing.
Most of the students snickered, waiting to see what this idiot was going to do without a
wand. Draco’s lips twitched into a fraction of a smile, then he immediately clenched his fist.

Flames suddenly burst into life from the grass of the pitch, engulfing the entire field with a
weird pattern of towering flames. The crowd screamed at the sudden miracle, then began to
panic. The referee was first in the sky to notice the inferno below, and blew on the whistle
with all of his breath. The game came to a halt, all of the players slowly coming to a stop
high above the roaring flames. Everyone watched at the horrifying scene of the inferno,
wandering what in Merlin’s name was going on. People started to run out of the stands as
fear of another Dark Wizard attack washed over the stupefied crowd, while others simply
stood in their seats marveling at the awesome display of power. The commentator
immediately tried to quell the forthcoming stampede.

“PLEASE STAY CALM! PLEASE STAY CALM! DO NOT PANIC! I REPEAT, DO NOT PANIC!”

Colin and the others gawked down on the pitch, how in hell? By the time they caught their
senses and turned back to face the stranger, he was already at the bottom of the rows,
heading down the exit with a reluctant Kenna in tow. Dennis was still trembling as he stood
there, his pupils dilated in fear. That guy could do that, and he, an ordinary kid, tried to
Stun him? He just thanked god he was alive, with nothing more than an injured pride as the
consequences of his foolhardy challenge. And here he thought he was cut out to teach DA
classes. He slumped back down into his seat, his eyes fixed on the spot where Kenna and
her ‘brother’ just disappeared from view. He had a lot to learn.

************

The Order of the Phoenix was at the stadium until late into the night, searching for clues as
to the source of this incident. They had arrived immediately after Ministry Police contacted
Tonks and Arthur Weasley, and helped with the evacuation. The match had been cancelled,
and the competition would not continue in fear of another terrorist attack. Those flames
were extremely potent, and if it were directed at the stands, it would have been a disaster.
Harry Potter was sitting on the highest tier of the stands, his head in his hands. It was so
close, he could picture himself holding the Champions cup high above his head, and
imagining what how proud his parents would be of him. He had a lot riding on this day, but
now it was taken away forever. Still dressed in his Quidditch robes, he pulled back his long
hair through padded gloves. When would this end? There were no closer to finding out who
did this than when they had started hours ago. The most plausible cause was some sort of
sabotage, if it were an attack, the perpetrators would not have planted Hades’ Fireworks
under the grounds, they would have placed them under the bleachers. This sort of
investigative work was not cut out for him, he’ll let Dumbledore and the others handle this-

Wait- was that? He peered down unto the burnt grounds, -yes- there definitely was a
distinct pattern. He could not have noticed it on the pitch itself, but from his vantage point
he could see it at a better perspective.

“PROFESSOR !” he shouted. ”Come here- take a look at this!” Dumbledore looked up at him
from the little group talking on the field.

“What is it, Harry?” Harry still did not get how Dumbledore could throw his voice without
shouting. It was a neat trick.

“Tell me if you recognize this symbol I’m seeing here! It’s weird though!” Harry shouted
back down. The next instant Dumbledore apparated next to Harry, and looked down at the
burnt field.

“I had my suspicions, but it is definitely confirmed now. Harry, you must make haste on
your task. I fear that this is far more important than we realized.”

“What do you mean?”

“That,” Dumbledore pointed at the symbol engraved into the ground- “ Is the seal of the
Infernus. I must warn the others.” And with that, he disapparated. Harry swore loudly,
balling his fists in his hair.
Draco, you stupid git. You ruined the match, and now pissed off the Order of the Phoenix.

He got up, and shook his head in annoyance. He better get cracking on getting him into
Lionheart. The things he had to do for that idiot….

*************

Chapter 4: The Demon Within

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** CHAPTER 4: The Demon Within**

Humph. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

Draco Malfoy was at the bottom of a cliff, his face dripping with perspiration. He knew it
won’t be easy, but he had to get this done, one way or the other. Yesterday, he vowed he
would unleash the power he felt brimming just below the surface, the same power he used
against Dumbledore when they dueled. Making sure he had no easy way out, he decided to
force himself to do it. Bright and early that fateful morning, he set out with only one thing in
his possession: a rope. His wand he left behind. Using the rope to scale down the impossible
cliff face, he set foot on the desolate bank of the cold Atlantic, then, after an hour of deep
contemplation, he burnt the rope using his summoning power.

The only way out, was to fly back to the top.

After nearly two days of trying, he just couldn’t make it happen. What was the matter with
him? He definitely flew a few months back, he could remember the incredible rush, it was
the most exciting thing he had ever felt in his life. Now, after two days without food or
water, he was really beginning to get worried. He just couldn’t do it.

“Fuck you Draco, you better do this, or you are a dead man.”

He got off of his ass, and swore under his breath. Craning his neck, he focused on his goal:
the top of the cliff looming high above. He was dehydrated, and with every failed attempt,
he felt his strength fading. Was he going to die here? A slow, and agonizing death? He
snorted in derision.

“At least this would be the most original suicide ever.” He looked about him, the crashing of
the waves on the craggy rocks further out, the desolate cliff face that stretched for what
seemed like an eternity. One more time….

He closed his eyes, and concentrated. Flames spouted from his fingertips, slowly engulfing
both forearms. A heartbeat later, a ring of fire circled around his feet- creating yet another
‘o’ pattern to accompany the dozens of his other failed attempts. He was getting frustrated.
What he really needed was motivation. For some strange reason, his dire circumstances
were not enough. It dawned on him that whether he lived or died was not as important to
him anymore. He dug deep, thinking what really was his inspiration, and what was the
meaning of his existence. He was already rich, his parents were avenged, and Voldemort
was no more. What was it he desired more than anything else? And then it clicked:

Power.

His destiny was to be the strongest. And right now, that title did not belong to him. His
thoughts raced back to the beginning of the summer, and the last time he saw Potter:

“Do not challenge the Phoenix wizard Albus Dumbledore. Prepare for the eternal
sleep.”

At that precise moment, Draco had never felt that sort of fear before. That voice…it still ran
chills down his spine any time he heard it. What in the world had happened to the golden
boy? With a newfound source of motivation, he froze the memory of Harry wielding the
Sword of Gryffindor high above him, just on the brink of sending him to hell. Even if it took
him years, he would never allow himself to be in such a position again.

And with that vow, he felt a high voice creep into the back of his mind:

….very well, young Malfoy, I will lend you some of my strength… for a price…

What the…?

Draco lost all concentration. That voice- Was he going insane?! He opened his eyes, and
nearly had a heart attack. There was nothing below his feet! Looking down, he could not
believe his eyes.The ground was so far below him, the huge boulders in the sea looked
more like crumbs off of a half eaten cookie. The intense wind buffeted against him, and in a
split second he realized he was either suffering from dementia and lack of water, or he
really was miles high above ground.

...do not disappoint me, young Malfoy, after all…I did give you some help. This is what you
wanted, am I not correct?

“SHUT UP!” Draco screamed at the voice, his hands flailing as he fell to his doom.

…ha ha ha..

“You’re going to die. Do something!” Draco commanded himself. Adrenaline pumped

through him, if he didn’t learn how to fly now, he was going to splat like a ripe tomato. With
a full-bodied scream, he summoned all of the power at his disposal, desperately letting it
loose with an intense burst of magic.

************

A week before the reopening of the school term Hermione was on her way to the Ministry of
Magic along with most of their other friends going into year seven. They had all agreed to
meet at Diagon Alley at Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes, then all of them would hitch a ride
with the Knight Bus to do their first Apparation lesson. The bus was filled with seventeen
year old and over wizards, most of them laughing and bubbling with excitement. Only two
boys were not as excited, one had a slightly depressed expression on his freckled covered
face, the other had a look of deep contemplation. Hermione could have guessed what Ron’s
problem was, but for Harry, she couldn’t really tell. Something was perpetually bothering
him.

“Ron, what’s wrong?” she asked, trying to find a way to subtly ask Harry what was
bothering him without being too direct.

“It’s.. it’s..-nothing.”

Harry glanced up at him, but did not respond. He folded his arms, and stared at a spot just
between his knees. Hermione is doing it again…

“You can tell me,” she coaxed. Hermione felt sort of bad bringing this up, but she wanted
Harry to open up to her some more. If she could get Ron talking, maybe Harry would too…

“She graduated, and got the scholarship she wanted.” Ron sighed- Cho was no longer at
Hogwarts. Hermione did not see how this getting a scholarship was bad news, so she
prodded on.

“…And..?”

“I only got to be with her for like- a year. And now she’s already moving on. “ He glanced at
Harry. Harry did not even seem much interested in what they were saying. That was fine
with him, anyway. Ever since the train attack, he just couldn’t see eye to eye with him
anymore. Certain references to their past seem to fly completely over his head, and the
conversation was usually strained, at best.

“Oh...” Hermione said, touching Ron’s hand. ”You’ll work things out, surely...”

Ron thought about that for a second. It’s not the distance that he was worried about. Cho
was gorgeous, talented, and a key part of the English under twenty-one Quidditch team. All
the guys at Lionheart would be all over her. He glanced again at the back of Harry’s head,
You better look out for her… Ron would never say it out loud, but he hoped that Harry would
tell him if Cho was going to leave him, or had an eye on another guy. His trust in girls had
forever changed when Hermione and Harry got together behind his back. Even though he
had gotten over it, it still irked him a bit that he himself was not with Hermione.

“Yeah, I guess,” said Ron. He leaned back against the back of the bus, his legs stretched
out on the bed they were sitting on. Hermione was on his right, and Harry was quietly
brooding on the left, idly twirling his wand between his fingers. Ron elbowed him in his side.
“Why the long face?”

Hermione waited with baited breath, for some reason Harry responded to Ron better. Was it
because he thought she worried about him too much? Or was it because he didn’t want her
to know? Harry continued twirling his wand between his fingers, not even turning to look at
them as he answered:

“Remember the Quidditch finals?”

“Yeah, how can we forget? That went down in the history books as the first ever
cancellation of a finals…it’s a bit stupid, really-“

“How so?” said Harry.

“Come on, the bloke who booby trapped the place isn’t going to be so thick as to try it
again, I mean- the security would obviously be looking out for him-“

“Booby traps, you say?” Harry said in an even tone. He snickered at the both of them.
That’s what they thought?

“Yeah. I mean, the show must go on, right? Are we going to let these terror- wits tell us
when we can and can’t play Quidditch? Out of their bloody mind are they? The ministry
should have rescheduled the game!” Ron added.

“Ron, it’s ‘terrorists’- and I think its better to be safe than sorry. Until they catch whoever
did it, it’s best not to have such a big event to give them an opportunity to strike again.
Right Harry?”

“Yeah, it would be a good idea to catch him first.”

“But on the other hand, that was the Quidditch finals! It was so close- we had nearly won!
Now it was all for nothing…” Ron argued, watching the wand a bit more intently now. Harry
did not bother to remind him that Ireland was kicking their asses. Ron broke off from the
conversation, looking at the wand dancing almost with a life of it’s own around Harry’s
fingers. Strange- it’s moving differently now…Both of them looked at Harry, who was staring
outside at the muggle cars zipping past them. He sighed, then ran both hands through his
hair. It took a moment for both of them to realize he wasn’t holding it anymore, and it was
spinning on it’s own accord. Hermione’s eyes widened a bit. Wandless magic?

“How-?” Ron sputtered, his finger pointing at Harry’s wand.

“How?” said Harry. “That’s what I have to figure out.” Hermione looked at him. What was he
talking about?

“Mate…look...you’re-“ Ron said, a bit befuddled at the wand doing somersaults then rotating
in an orbital manner. Harry rambled on, oblivious to his friends staring at his wand.

“Dumbledore just loves to pull a stunt like this huh? We know who he is, and believe me,
that wasn’t a booby trap-“ Harry grumbled, and the wand fell lifelessly to the bed.

“Was that the Solidus thing again? But usually you’re all charged up and stuff…” Ron asked
in bewilderment. Harry looked at them- wait- they were talking on two completely different
levels.

“What are you talking about?” Harry asked. He followed Ron’s gaze to the wand on the bed,
and realized that they had never seen him do wandless magic before. He smiled, that’s why
Drill Sergeant Jacobsen had him lifting huge blocks of ice while doing pushups for nearly
two months straight. It was supposed to be punishment after they thought that he had
skipped classes for a whole week, when in fact he was recuperating form using the Reducto
Ultima spell to destroy the gates of Azkaban. Controlling a wand was nothing.

“No Ron, that’s not the ‘Solidus thing’. Can’t you tell the difference? Harry, you know how to
do wandless magic?” Hermione asked. Harry looked across to her in bewilderment.

“Of course. I told you that in the letter didn’t I?” he asked quizzically.

“Nooo...what letter?” she asked. She did not get a single letter from him since he joined
Lionheart.
“ I sent you a letter about it, didn’t I?” Now that he thought about it, he really couldn’t
remember if he sent one or not. Strange….

“If you did, I never got it. But aside from that, what else can you do without your wand?”

“Um… a few spells...you know, nothing important.”

That jolted something in Ron’s memory. Didn’t Fred and George let slip that Harry could
channel absorbed magic without his wand? Something about blasting the Aurors through
the walls of Hogwarts…

“SO THAT’S HOW YOU DID IT!! THE BIG HOLE AND THE AURORS AND STUFF! CRIKEY! YOU
GOT TO SHOW ME!!” Ron screamed. Harry was glad on the change of subject. He really
didn’t have the slightest clue how Malfoy would react to him when he told him about
Lionheart. He totally forgot that wandless magic was a myth to most wizards. Well he was a
S.T.A.R. division trainee at the Auror Academy, so he got a few perks, and some hidden
techniques as well.

“Oh, okay- you know the cool spell Dumbledore does to summon the food? I could do a
scaled down version of that. Ron, what you brought for lunch?” Harry asked.

“Um, Shepherd pie, and macaroni salad…uh…and some apple juice?” he offered tentatively.
Ron gulped in apprehension. If Harry screwed up with his lunch …

Harry closed his eyes for a second, then after a few moments of concentration, waved his
hand palm down over the bed he was sitting on. The food appeared before their eyes,
warmed and ready to eat on a plate.

“Wow…wicked!” Ron said. Damn, he was feeling hungry already. “Got to show me that one,
mate.”

Hermione was watching the demonstration carefully, using her Occlumens in combination
with her Divine summoning power to gauge the level of Harry’s magic quota in doing that
spell. She had her suspicions, but now she was sure of it. That 'bit of concentration' and
asking Ron about his lunch was quite unnecessary. She had seen when Harry stole a glance
at Ron's knapsack, therefore knew the distance he would have to make it manifest on the
bed. It didn't matter if it were spaghetti and meatballs or a bag of gold, all that was
required was distance, and an idea of the physical dimensions. Harry wasn’t even using one
tenth of his magic ability to do that spell. He definitely was holding back on them, and it
saddened her to know that he still felt the need to keep secrets. Her temper rose almost
immediately. She had enough of the sneaking around.

“Harry. I think it’s about time you really trusted us,” demanded Hermione. Ron was just
about to put a forkful of his lunch into his mouth when he froze halfway, looking at her if
she had completely lost it.

“Wha?” Ron said in confusion. Hermione was glaring at Harry. Ron’s mouth was gaping at
her, utterly clueless. Hermione knew that there was something really serious going on, and
just to prove a point, she picked up the plate and hauled it down the aisle with all of her
strength. Ron barely had chance to move before it was sent flying through the air. OH NO!!
His precious lunch! Just as he was about to scream, “Watch out!” to Stan Shunpike, the
plate froze. Ron looked at the other students around, no one even realized there was pieces
of food hanging suspended in the air, the plate inches from the conductor’s head. As far as
he knew, no one used a spell to stop it.

“What are you trying to prove, Hermione?” came a cool and even voice from Ron’s left.
Harry didn’t even flinch, but his palm was tilted at an angle in the general vicinity of the
plate. Ron couldn’t believe it! Hermione really did lose her mind this time!

“Harry, you’ve been so distant lately. What’s wrong with you? I remember when we were a
team, and we all shared our thoughts and feelings with each other! Nowadays you go off
into your own little world, and I have to BEG to even have a conversation with you! You
never write, you come and go as you please, and you keep holding all these secrets from
us! This-“ she pointed at the floating food, “is a prime example. I know that this is child’s
play to you. It’s not even that important, yet you keep it a secret. Answer me this, could
you stop this bus without using your wand?”

Harry glared at her. “Yes.”

Ron’s jaw dropped again. “Mate, you could do that? I mean, without the charm and stuff?”

“I’ve stopped using that now.”

“Why?” Ron asked. “It was the coolest thing!”

“It’s dangerous.”

“Well, so what? It’s not like you’re going to kill someone-“ Ron tried to shut his mouth, but
it was too late. As soon as he said it he regretted even mentioning it. Harry looked away,
his expression clouded. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way…”

Harry could feel unshed tears trying to break free. What hurt was that Ron even had to take
back those words. It’s not like you’re going to kill someone... Whoever said the truth hurts-
definitely knew what he was talking about. Closing his eyes, he remembered his solemn
vow, a promise he made to himself at Sirius’ one year memorial:

“I.. have done things that I wish to forget. But I can’t forget. So I will bury this sword as a
symbol that from now on, my strength will be my own, and from the love of those around
me.”

How could he expect these people to love him if they couldn’t trust him? Hermione was
right. He should be completely open with them.

“Hermione...I…you’re right. Absolutely right. I have been hiding things from you guys.
Something has been bothering me lately. The Order of the Phoenix have given me a
dangerous first mission- I have been ordered to recruit Draco Malfoy into Lionheart, and
make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid. Like destroy it, for instance,” he added as an
afterthought.

“Holy shit,” said Ron. “Destroy it?” Ron blanched. “Got to be a really powerful wizard to do
that…I mean, Lionheart is like five times bigger than Hogwarts, isn’t it? Oh, and by the way,
who is Draco?”

“He was the one who set the stadium on fire, wasn’t he?” Hermione asked softly. Ron’s
head swung across to her.
“He WHAT???!!!”

“Yeah.”

“Wait, what you’re saying he’s the guy who controls the fire? Didn’t he also attack
Dumbledore at the train? But he should be a piece of cake- you got him good that time.”

“Yeah…” Harry sighed. He nearly killed him, in fact.

“So why the long face? This shouldn’t be too hard…”

“If I don’t succeed, or Draco doesn’t want to co-operate…I think the order may want me to…
nullify him.”

Ron and Hermione went silent.

“It’s not easy you know, this Order business, the prophecy, the sword- All of that. I –ah…
Sometimes, I get these urges…and hear things, like voices…” Harry was abruptly cut off
when Ron raised his palm.

“Whoa- easy there mate. Don’t need to set the cuckoo clock just yet. Stop fooling around,
you’re scaring the shit out of me.” Harry glared at his best friend for a second, then put on
an easy smile. He cursed himself -he couldn’t believe he almost let that slip!

“Ha! Got you there didn’t I?” Harry laughed. Ron joined in, and both of them pointed at
each other in a “You got me!” gesture. Hermione did not even crack into a smile. She could
see straight through that forced smile of his. Her eyes narrowed at the both of them. That
was it. That was the sort of honest-to-God response she wanted to hear from him. Harry
had to confide in her, and tell her his problems. The only time she ever got Harry to truly be
open with her was after Neville died. He had stayed silent for nearly three days before she
attempted to use the Leglimens spell on him. He had totally broken down, and told her what
he felt inside. Just now, he was about to let his emotions out, but Ron had stopped him
before he got a chance to finish. Harry had to let someone in, before it was too late.

“Oy! We’re here! The Ministry of Magic! It’ll be sixty knuts- the lot o’ ye! Come on come on,
get a move on -can’t wait for bloody Christmas!” Stan Shunpike ordered.

“Let’s go. We’re here.” Said Harry, any trace of humour gone. Hermione followed meekly
behind, hoping that she would be able to have a private word with him.

************

In an abandoned suburb house in Little Whinging, two men were captivated by the
projection on the wall.

“So…what do we do know?” Macnair asked. Rodulphus Lestrange was looking at the

recording of the Battle of King’s Crown. They had broken into the Minister of Magic’s office
and created a duplicate copy, and were now analyzing the enemy. Macnair wasn’t too
thrilled to be looking at this. In fact, he had to sit down by the time he heard Snape’s final
scream to stop the involuntary shaking in his legs.
That boy was not human.

“Well it seems we are blessed to be alive and well today, “ Lestrange said evenly. He flexed
his wand arm, remembering distinctively when Potter broke it. That was the last thing he
had remembered of that night. “This must be a sign.”

A sign? A sign to quit our regular day job and disappear, I hope. Macnair could only hope
Lestrange had come to his senses. He kept his mouth shut, watching on screen as the Lord
Voldemort burned before his very eyes.

“A sign?” Macnair asked.

“But of course. This is our calling. This would be the ultimate challenge! We have survived
to do what must be done!” Rodulphus was getting more enthusiastic by the second. Macnair
hated it when he saw a man dangle on the threads of insanity. What else to expect from a
man who claimed that Azkaban was his favourite vacation spot?

“Calling?”

“Yes! We must do unto others, what they have done unto us. Well, do unto him that is,” he
added, pointing at Harry. “If we cannot kill him, we must kill everyone else around him.
Don’t you think that's only fair? Hmm? Eye for an eye?”

Macnair definitely did not think that, but he nodded dutifully all the same. If Potter found
out who ochestrated it, he’ll hunt as down for sure. But for time being, he would accept
Lestrange’s ridiculous notion. He was very powerful wizard. There was a thin line between
insanity and genius, and he was the first person Macnair knew that kept hopping back and
forth over that line. Even though Bella was a crazy bitch, at least she was predictable. Her
husband was a completely different kettle of fish.

“AHA! But first! We’ll need a guinea pig. Someone who could do our work for us, and keep
those nasty eyes away from our direction!” Rodulphus clapped his hands once in glee, and
ushered Macnair in front of a crystal ball. Macnair turned to look at him directly. Guinea pig?
Was he reading his mind, or did Rodulphus actually have a plan, a feasible plan?
Maybe...just maybe..

“Here will be our subject! Our main chess piece! Our knight in shining armour! BEHOLD!”
Lestrange announced, pointing at the crystal ball. Macnair frowned, what was this? A joke?
Maybe he should stop second-guessing his comrade’s insanity. He definitely had lost his
mind. This was a muggle!

“A muggle boy?” Macnair asked, looking at the beefy teenager strolling into the boxing gym.

“Ah…but just not any muggle, my dear friend,” Lestrange said softly, putting an arm around
his shoulder. “ This is an opponent who Potter cannot kill. This is his only last blood
relative…. a diamond in the rough, so to say.” Macnair stared at the young man. He was
pretty tough looking, but other than that, there was nothing extraordinary about him.
Lestrange smiled evilly. “Believe me, he is our trump card….”

*************
“Draco! You got a letter!” Kenna Malfoy shouted cheerfully up the stairs. At that moment,
she was baking cookies for the both of them. Draco was in such a good mood ever since he
came back from his little trip. She couldn’t believe the vast improvement!

“Throw it away,” came his arrogant voice from the master bedroom. Kenna smiled, for him,
that was being such a sweetheart compared to before. He really neded that little holiday!

“~But guess who-its-frooomm~?” she sang back to him, teasing him to ask for the name. A
few moments later her older brother strolled down the stairs, wrapped in a ridiculously
expensive sleeping robe. He took the rolled up parchment from her fingers. Wait- whose
snow white owl was she petting so adoringly? Couldn’t be…

Opening the parchment he began to read the unfamiliar writing:

Dearest Malfoy,

The only way you’re going to find out what really happened to you is to be at the Lionheart
Order of Sorcery on the first day of the new term. Walk with a quill, because you are going
to have to sign up. You hear me? Oh and one more thing, you’ve yet to beat me at
Quidditch. Here’s your lucky chance, you Loser! Hardy-har-har.

With hugs and kisses!

-Harry.

Draco laughed at Potter’s comeback letter. Shit, he even put the same ‘with hugs and
kisses’ ending. He needed that laugh; it was something he had not done in a long time. He
re-read it as he walked up to his room. Interesting. An Auror eh? This could be the start of a
very interesting year….

****************

Authors Note: remember to drop a line! I hope you are liking the reposting- I'm telling you,
losing all of these fics and re-doing the formatting is time consuming- but for you guys, I
hadda show the love! Respect!

Chapter 5: Hogwarts' Finest

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**CHAPTER 5: Hogwarts’ Finest**

Harry did not think this Apparation business would be so tricky. This was the third class of
the week, and he still was not able to move an inch. Most of the other Hogwarts students
have gotten the hang of it, their instructor at the Ministry of Magic knew what she was
doing. But for some reason, he just couldn’t do the damn thing. He cursed softly under his
breath. Everyone was watching him, and he knew that a lot of them were snickering behind
his back. Hermione had a puzzled expression on her face, and Ron was quite befuddled.
Ron had tried to show him the ‘easy’ way to do it, after all, Fred and George taught him
how to apparate, and therefore on the first day of class was the only one to get their
provisional permit. In another month, all of them would have to return and do an exam and
apparate over a substantial distance, reappearing in a certain target area. Their instructor,
Ms Hutchinson was watching Harry closely, knowing that there was something…differentt
about him. After a whole week and no improvement she decided to tell him to return
another time to have a crack at it again, instead of forcing himself now. Her instincts were
telling her that something was not right about this.

“Okay, Harry, take it easy, some people take a bit more time to get used to it,” Ms
Hutchinson told him soothingly. “Maybe you can come back next week, when you’re a bit
more relaxed. You seem tense,” she added.

Harry did not respond. He was tense these past few days. Malfoy had mailed him back,
saying that he would come to Lionheart just to prove that he could beat him in Quidditch.
Knowing the first part of his mission was complete gave him a bit of relief, but on the other
hand, the real task had now begun. Draco may not know it, but in the Order’s bingo book,
he was classified as an “S” class threat, and was not to be underestimated. Harry did not
particularly like the sound of that: ‘S’ class threat ? What the hell?

“No, I can do it,” Harry gritted through his teeth, his eyes closed tightly. He couldn’t believe
it- all the magic he has learnt, all the impossibly hard techniques he’s mastered, but after
days of trying he couldn’t even apparate?? It perplexed him. Why was it so difficult? For
wizards, this was a routine spell, but here he was, on the last day before the school term
began, and still could not do the short jump to the target area twenty feet away.

“I’ll make special reservation for you next week, Harry. Don’t force it,” said Ms Hutchinson,
getting a bit more worried. What was that tingling feeling in the air?

“I can do it,” Harry said again. Hermione was looking at him intently, something was
happening to Harry. She frowned, and came across to his side.

Ron was leaning on the wall, lounging with the other seventh years. He didn’t want to, but
he was feeling pretty good about himself. Here he was: watching Harry struggle to do
something he could do ever since last summer. It felt like he finally got one up on his best
mate. Sometimes it wasn’t fair how Harry was able to do everything so effortlessly. At least,
Ron knew he was better at doing something other than chess. He continued talking with
Luna and Seamus as they quarrelled about the second half of the Quidditch season. Harry’s
Lionheart strikers were high up in the table, four spots below Krum’s first place Lionheart
United. The Tornadoes were having a great season, and were the main title contenders to
Lionheart United. Ron’s gaze fell on Hermione, who was now clutching Harry’s sleeve
urgently.

“Harry, listen, maybe you should listen to her…you can come back another time, please?”
she said softly, her eyes filled with concern. He ignored her as well, his eyes clenched
tightly. Now that she was so close, she could feel the pulsing energy of the Solidus Charm
building up inside of him. “Harry, stop!” Hermione shouted. Ron dashed forward, something
was happening-

Before he even knew it, he had fallen down in the middle of an open field, alongside all of
the other seventh years. Everyone was either face down or flat on their back, and Ron took
a moment to realize what had happened. A heartbeat ago, they were in the Department of
Magical Transport training facility. Now, he was looking at setting sun falling behind the hills
of a vast rolling field. Someone screamed at the shock of it all and a large flock of white
birds suddenly took off into the sky, disturbed by the sudden appearance of so many
intruders in their resting zone. Harry alone was standing, looking utterly lost.

“What the ?” Ron exclaimed. The others were slowly getting up, all of them just as clueless
to what has happened.

“Harry! I warned you!” Hermione scolded, sitting up in the poppy field. “What you were
trying wasn’t apparation, it was-“

“-Teleportation,” Ms Hutchinson finished in awe. Dark magic such as this was outlawed
since the days of the founders- the most useful tool kidnappers used during the Goblin
Wars. How was he able to do this?

Harry looked at both of them, completely lost. What did they just say? “Teleportation?” he
asked. Ms Huchinson approached him carefully, writing down the time, date, and location of
her magical compass. It read:

5:00 P.M. Friday 31st August 1997

Current location: Stockbury Hill, England.
Target Location: M.O.M. London, England.
Total Distance: 81 Kilometres due South South-West
Target Distance: 20 metres due East north east.

There was a look of astonishment on her face, and her eyes darted back up to Harry. Harry
was freaking out- and tried his best to look at what she was frantically scribbling down on
her notepad. She quickly hid her notes, and cleared her throat.

“I’m sorry Mr Potter, but this ..um…incident…is serious business. It will have to be reported,
and I’m afraid that there will be a review to determine if you would be allowed to continue
apparation lessons.”

“But- it was a mistake- honest!” he sputtered. She gave him a look through her beady eyes,
not believing one word he said.

“Just be grateful that everyone seems to be okay, and we didn’t end up in another time – or
worse yet, a different reality.” Ms Hutchinson looked at him strangely, and Hermione bit her
lip in worry. “EVERYONE!” The instructor called out. “Please wait while I head back to the
Ministry to get a Portkey License for you lot. Do NOT and, let me make this clear, do NOT
wander off, or your provisional permits will be revoked and you will not be allowed to retake
the exam,” she said in a stern voice.

Everyone went dead silent.

“Be back in a few minutes!” she added cheerfully, and with that, she Dissaparated with a
crack!
Hermione wrapped her arms around Harry, giving him all of her support. She read up on
Teleportation in the Ancient Tome of Sorcery the book she found by Salazar Slytherin. It
was all piecing together now. The signs were there, from the sudden and dramatic increase
of magical ability- the mood swings, the memory lapses –and most importantly, the few
times he told her that he was hearing a voice- a voice she herself had heard once- that day,
at Sirius’ one year memorial. Harry had just given back Gryffindor’s sword to Albus
Dumbledore- then, out of nowhere, she had heard it in her head- that strange voice Harry
used whenever he was in his trance state:

Fool. Our work is not yet done.

Harry just stood there, his expression one of deep contemplation. He was still trying to
comprehend what happened ere. It was just like when he was going to the Dursleys at the
end of year five, when the apparated the lot of them and the car to the house. He thought
that was some unexplainable mishap, but now that he had done it again, he began to
worry. He cursed softly, looking at all of the faces staring apprehensively at him. He hated
this!

“Hermione, what is happening to me?” he asked in frustration, holding her closely. His life
felt so out of control….

“Shh... It’s okay, Harry, we’ll sort this out together,” she consoled him, looking about at the
vast expanse of untamed land. She held on to him tightly, and decided that there was no
other way: As soon as she got back to school, she will need to have a word with Professor
Dumbledore. Someone had to help him, and her Occlumens training was not enough to
solve this problem. Hermione was suspecting it all along, but it felt that her suspicions had
more weight than she realized. The headmaster needed to be informed that Harry was
slowly, but surely, being possessed.

***************

On the Sunday before the opening of the new school year, the entire Order of the Phoenix
was congregated in the Room of Requirement. They were all summoned to this very
important meeting by their founder, and headmaster of Hogwarts: Albus Dumbledore. All
were seated around a large conference table, their expressions dead serious with the matter
at hand. Sean Creevey, one of the survivors of the battle of King’s Crown, and also their
shadow man from the Ministry’s Unmentionables Auror squadron, was giving his report.

“The destruction of Azkaban has the Minister of Magic and the entire community on edge.
We have all been working day in, day out to get to the bottom of this mystery. The mere
fact that Azkaban was destroyed is a dilemma that no one has ever predicted, far less
thought possible. The entire fleet of Aurors, including us: the Unmentionables are doing all
we can, but from the evidence gathered, the pattern of destruction is consistent with the
blast area of the most powerful spell- the Reducto Ultima. ” He paused, looking at all the
wizards present. ”Which now leads us to believe that there are wizards other than Professor
Dumbledore and a handful of other ‘S’ Class magi alive, and unaccounted for. This may be a
problem, depending which way he or she swings. Professor? What is your take on this?”

“Indeed this may be a problem,” Albus Dumbledore nodded. “It is imperative that we are
prepared for this possible threat, alongside the difficult task of helping the re-capture of the
escapees. We must find more clues to whoever this Dark wizard may be. Also- I fear this is
tied in to the group who attacked the train at the end of the previous school term. The
“Followers” as they called themselves, are also another problem to be solved. Because of
the attack; the new Hogwarts express will be heavily guarded on the journey to and from
King’s cross. Even though the escort has already been decided by the Ministry; I personally
am going to ensure that all of my students arrive safely. Amelia, any news of the escapees
themselves?” Dumbledore asked Madame Bones, a witch who worked alongside the
Legislative division of the Wizengamot.

“From our records, there are quite a few of Voldemort’s men who may have been alive at
the time of the escape. ‘B’ ranked Death Eaters Macnair, and Rodulphus Lestrange: who-
get this- has been in and out of Azkaban numerous times, which is saying something. There
has only been one person to escape from Azkaban: Sirius Black. But this man, Lestrange,
has never really ‘broken out’. Hear this, he was released on claims he was under
Voldemort’s Imperius curse, recaptured after the Department of Mysteries Incident, then
sub sequentially escaped a few months later on transit to execution by the Veil of the
Unknown. That was the second time he has gotten away. Then he was recaptured once
again by Auror Trainee Harry Potter and Ministry employee Arthur Weasley on New year’s
Day of this year, then,” she laughed grimly at this: “now is again at large due to the fall of
Azkaban. In and out of Azkaban three- count ‘em, three times. Slippery as a fish that
one….”

Dumbledore pursed his lips. He remembered young Lestrange’s and Sirius’ rivalry in
Hogwarts. For some reason, Sirius was the only one to get detention when they were
caught fighting. Rodulphus, on the other hand, usually got off. Not a particularly gifted
student, Rodulphus Lestrange was a master at deceptive and manipulative magic. His
penchant for the impossible was also a knack he excelled at, give him something that was
supposedly never been attempted before and he will do it. Was it possible that somehow he
was able to destroy Azkaban from the inside out? A Possession spell to enlist aid from the
outside, maybe? Dumbledore pondered on this new train of thought: destroying Azkaban
was supposedly impossible, and he seriously doubted Lestrange was the one who pulled it
off….

“We need to continue recruiting more members, Professor,” Mr Weasley added. “The
Ministry is stretching out its resources in this mass manhunt- and by doing so, our
effectiveness is cut almost to half. Lionheart has given us a shortlist of promising graduates
from this past year.” He pulled out a roll of parchment.

Bill Weasley cleared his throat. “Oh, and on a brighter side of things, Harry seems to have
settled nicely into Lionheart. This is good news, his instructors Jeremy Kingsley and
Jacobsen have high hopes for the lad.”

“But you may recall, Professor, he was once considered a liability by most of the Order.
Actually, at one time it appeared that he was on the verge of self destruction- remember
what he did to our guys from the ministry earlier this year…” Sean Creevey objected, still
not totally confident of someone so young being inducted into the Order of the Phoenix.

“That was different, he was provoked into fighting!” exclaimed Tonks.

“That doesn’t matter, Tonks. The magic absorption technique he used is pretty difficult to
pull off- and I doubt Ulrich Ferdinand would have exaggerated…” another Auror added.

Dumbledore put his fingertips together and inhaled a deep breath. It was true: Harry was
becoming more and more unstable as the year passed on.

“Professor,” Remus intervened. “Do you think that he would be able to keep Malfoy under
control? Putting them together in the same place may backfire on us. Maybe we should
have handled this ourselves…”

“Remus, my friend, this may come as a shock, but it is already beyond our control. Young
Malfoy’s Infernus ability has rapidly multiplied upon itself, and even I may not be able to
defeat him if it came down to a duel. I believe giving him direction and purpose would be
the best course of action. Hunting him down would only result in more bloodshed. Who
knows? Maybe he will apply himself diligently to his studies. There’s something more than
meets the eye about Draco, and I daresay Harry is our only hope in keeping him under
control….”

***************

On the beginning of the new term at Lionheart Order of Sorcery, one young man was
sweating profusely. Things were not turning out the way it supposed too. What was he to
do know? The gaffer was already taking roll.

“MULCIBER, Ryans!”

Shit. He was late.

“HUGHES, Martin!”

Was he really coming?

“KELSING, Lillian!”

Dammit Malfoy! You better show up!

“HANES, James!”

Harry was seething. He should have been here almost half an hour ago. He just hoped that
Draco did not do something stupid like throw away his letter, or worse, thought that it was
a prank. It was meant to goad him, yes- but it was still intended to be quite serious.
Hopefully, he wasn’t too thick and dim-witted just to laugh it off.

“HARRISON, Russell!”

His name was going to be called next. And he was the last one on the list before Draco’s on
the S.T.A.R. division shortlist. Drill Sergeant Jacobsen was a bit funny about the time. If
you were late, you would soon find out that he could be just a friendly as an ingrown hair
embedded deep into the anus. If Draco didn’t show up now, he definitely was going to have
a rough year.

“POTTER, Harry!”

Harry acknowledged the roll call, nodding at ‘Drill Sergeant” Jacobsen. He may be
disagreeable at times, but all in all, he was a just and fair man.

“Psst…Harry…” someone whispered in his ear. Harry jumped- then turned to look at the girl
next to him. How in the world does she do that? A few seconds before, there was only a tall
wizard on his right. Where did she come from?

“Fleur!” Harry smiled as he gave her a brief hug. “ Never cease to amaze me, how you
could sneak up on people like that.”

“I got in! I got in!” she whispered excitedly. “Finally, I can make daddy proud…” Harry
grinned. She may be a bit forward, but they had become pretty good friends over the past
few months. Fleur had more to her than met the eye. Hell, anyone smitten with Draco
Malfoy had to have something special about her.

“DELACOUR, Fleur!” said Jacobsen. He scanned the crowd, and made eye contact with her.
She smiled at him, and Harry was not surprised when the instructor blushed slightly. He
stifled a laugh. Jacobsen quickly looked down at his roll of parchment and the list of names
there. He focused low down the page, did a quick head check of the Auror trainees in front
of him, and frowned.

“One is missing. Where is …” he checked the name again- “Malfoy, Draco?” He glared at the
lot. “Well? Anyone here knows where this bloke is?”

Suddenly, the great entrance doors of the Lionheart Order of Sorcery flung open and
slammed against the walls with a tremendous BANG. Everyone peered down the vast hall at
the figure silhouetted in the morning sunlight. Murmurs of annoyance began to rise from
those wizards who bustled about, hurrying to get to the respective classes. Who was this
person who dared cause such commotion in the Auror academy?

“What the fuck…?” Jacobsen grumbled, immediately now in a bad mood. “Who the hell is
that?” Everyone turned to face at the young man dressed in black wizard robes, his
swagger and attitude screaming arrogance and a big “fuck you” to whoever didn’t like his
grandiose entrance. Fleur was all starry eyed, and Harry shook his head in bewilderment.
He looked at Draco’s face, and shook his head in annoyance.

Draco, you dumb git. You just had to be the center of attention don’t you…

Draco Malfoy strode towards the main security desk, signed his name with a flourish, then
marched straight to where Harry Potter and the others were standing. Jacobsen’s jaw
dropped with the utter irreverence of it all. How dare he barge into his main hall and create
a scene!

“Come here! Who the hell are you?” Jacobsen threatened.

“Malfoy. Draco Malfoy,” he bowed his head gallantly, mocking the older man. “And who,
dare I ask- may you be?” he countered, looking directly into Jacobsen’s face.

The two wizards glared at each other, and amazingly, Jacobsen’s face broke into a slow
grin.

“You got spunk. Very good. You got attitude, that’s also good.” he said. “But, I already don’t
like you. You got that, you little fuck?” he whispered. In an instant his face reverted back to
its regular stony expression and he screamed into his face. “NOW GET YOUR ASS BACK IN
LINE! AND DON’T YOU EVER, AND I REPEAT, EVER QUESTION ME AGAIN!”

“Yes, sir!” Draco said, a twinkle in his eye. As he turned he caught sight of Potter, and the
girl next to him. When his back was turned completely to Jacobsen, he snapped his fingers
softly under the cover of his expensive cloak. Harry frowned as he saw him do it, what was
that about? Draco made his way across to Harry, and both of them for a moment just
stared at each other. Harry’s battle instincts began to take over, and his heart began to
race. The air was heavy with tension, both young men jaw muscles tightening in animosity.
Their eyes bored into each other, and all time stopped, their eyes locked in a battle of wills.

What was Draco going to do? Was he about to start something right here, right now? Harry
surreptitiously put his hand in his pocket, his fingers closing around his Phoenix core wand..

“…Potter.”

“…Malfoy.”

They glared at each other, their faces dead serious.

“I have something to say.”

Harry just raised an eyebrow.

“I hope that loud-mouth has some strong sphincter muscles- because I secretly hexed him
with a Diarrhoea curse.”

“Huh?” said Harry, completely lost. Draco smiled evilly.

“Well Potter, you noticed when I snapped my fingers didn’t you? That was a little greeting
present for our esteemed teacher. I created a diversion so I could get close enough without
raising his suspicions. The stupid mudblood,” Draco added with a sneer.

“You know him?” said Harry, his interest piqued.

“My, my, it seems that you catch on quicker than usual. My old man told me about him. He
did that same little trick to my father back when they were studying in Lionheart together.
Alas, he never got a chance to repay the favour. A son must carry on the family torch of his
father, isn't that so? Give it a few seconds.” Draco grinned. He got into line, and folded his
arms. Draco did not even seem to notice that the girl on either side of Harry was frequently
glancing in his direction. While Jacobsen was barking out names, Draco sized up the
splendour of the halls of Lionheart’s Order of Sorcery. He looked at Harry straight in the
eye.

”Ah, so it boils down to this,” his voice all business once again, his expression blank.

“Boils down to what?” asked Harry. He was thinking about what Malfoy just said: A son
must carry on the family torch of his father... Suddenly, Jacobsen broke off the roll call, and
sweat began to bead on forehead. Harry’s eyes widened as face began to burn red, his
posture going rigid. Without warning, Master Jacobsen dashed off in the direction of the
bathrooms. Draco smirked knowingly. Harry began to laugh. The group dispersed, and both
of them walked off, followed by a very nervous Fleur Delacour. Harry glanced back at her,
but she was walking behind them timidly. Quite out of character for her (in Harry’s opinion).

“What do you mean?” Harry asked again after Draco failed to answer.

“Yes, Potter. Destiny…you and me: it is the return of Hogwarts’ finest.”

*****************

Chapter 6: Second Best

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**CHAPTER 6: Second Best**

“To our first years, Welcome! To our returning students –Welcome back! You know how it
goes, there is a time for talk, but it is not now. Tuck in!” Professor Dumbledore said.

Hermione, Ron and Ginny were seated at the Gryffindor table, their faces not as happy as
they usually were at the first day of school. To all of the students, the trip on the new
Hogwarts Express was a strained one, the memories of their last and almost fatal journey
still fresh in their minds. Almost fifty Ministry security wizards were stationed in and outside
the train, some riding on broomsticks the entire journey. Professor Dumbledore himself was
seated with Remus Lupin in one of the compartments, and never once did they lower their
guard. Not the sort of atmosphere they were accustomed to.

“So! When’s the first DA class going to be?” Colin Creevey asked immediately, leaning
across Ginny to ask Ron. His eyes sparkled, and his enthusiasm could have made Ron sick.
Truth be told, Ron was not feeling the DA classes ever since the end of last term, when he
saw Harry nearly snuff out that Draco person. Ever since Harry’s sixteenth birthday, he felt
as if he was in a war, or expecting to be attacked any other day. The train ride this morning
was proof of that. No one knew what would happen next, now that those escapees were on
the loose. Ron pursed his lips in thought. Was he good enough to train these guys outside
of their normal Defense Against the Dark Arts classes?

Or rather…was he mentally prepared to continue? He thought hard. At first, he thought it

would have been more of a cool thing to learn from Harry, but now he realized that it was
dead serious, and Harry was the only one of them who knew the pressure of being in mortal
danger, all of his life he was marked for death. Now that he had his fair share of battles, it
dawned on him that these were not games, and those that he instructed would eventually
rely on his expertise to save their lives if the need arose.

“I don’t know, Colin,” he said somberly.

“Maybe we could just have a meeting this week just to get everyone together and agree on
a schedule!” Colin suggested.

Hermione was eating her food quickly; she wanted to tell the Professor about Harry as soon
as possible. Right now, that was all that was important. Ron’s expression was grim, but she
would have to talk to him later about the DA classes.
“Ron, what’s wrong mate?” Seamus asked. Dean and Lavender glanced at their red haired
prefect, a bit surprised that he had barely touched his heaping pile of food on his plate.

“Well, I’m looking at it like this. There are wizards out there powerful enough to take on
Dumbledore, and destroy Azkaban. And the guy who really knows about these things has
been unceremoniously kicked out of school,” Ron sighed. “So far, we’ve just being playing
kid’s games compared to those caliber of wizards, do our little bouts of ‘playing wizard’
really matter in the real world?”

Hermione looked up at Ron. What was he trying to say? He didn’t want to continue with the
classes anymore?

“So? Harry’s our age, if he could hold his own, so can we!” Colin protested.

“You have no idea what Harry is capable of, Colin. Fred and George told me that taking out
those Aurors was more a game to him than anything else. It’s almost ridiculous how much
magic he has learnt…I just. ..I’m not sure if I really am the right one to continue teaching
you guys. I mean, I thought it was cool at first, but I now realize that next to Harry, I’m
just kidding myself.”

At this Hermione told him in a firm voice: “Don’t be daft Ron…if it weren’t for you none of us
would be here today- What about facing Voldemort? And remember earlier this summer?! I
thought you handled both very well, considering the odds! I definitely believe that you
should continue the classes!!”

“Yeah right, Hermione. You’re only saying that ‘cause you’re my friend. I’m worthless. I
couldn’t even help the Professor when they were fighting. I was frozen to the spot. Harry
was the one who did anything worthwhile. It’s like we weren’t even a major factor. Can’t
say I blame them, after all, we’re just novices in comparison,” Ron lamented.

“Ron…I am not ‘just saying’ that! It’s true!” Hermione began, but Ron ignored her, and
started eating his food. The feast went on, and the Gryffindor table remained in a taut
silence. When the school had finished eating, Dumbledore rose to give his speech.
Hermione looked up at him attentively, while Ron simply propped his head up with the heel
of his wrist, and was lost in his thoughts. He caught snippets of Professor Dumbledore’s
speech, something about reminding students that the Forbidden forest was self-
explanatory, and need not be stressed upon, and that Mr. Filch has kindly requested the
removal of the regurgitating hex placed on his toilet bowl, amongst other commonplace
things. His speech turned towards the escapees on the loose, and explained that all should
be on the lookout for any strange happenings in the near future.

“….Henceforth, I fear, we may have some rough times ahead. But for now, let us remind
ourselves that true strength comes from within, and together, our combined efforts will
overcome any obstacle.” All the students believed this to be the end of the speech, but
Professor Dumbledore raised his arms gesturing for them to remain in their seats. His face
broke into a large smile. “I have a particular school announcement this year, and a very
special one at that. It has been a long while since the Minister of Magic has given the Merit
of Valor to one of our students - and I believe that this is an opportune time to present it to
a very brave and worthy individual…”

Everyone began to whisper loudly. The Merit Of Valor?? . Hermione zoned into the
headmaster, understanding alighting on her face. Ron groaned- Harry wasn’t even here, yet
he was being awarded. Just another reminder to show how insignificant he felt compared to
him nowadays…

“This award goes out to a very special young man, who also happens to be our newly
appointed Head Boy. Not only that, but time and time again, he has proven to be a fearless
and true protector of all the students of Hogwarts School of witchcraft and Wizardry-“

Ron’s ears perked- Head Boy? He fingered his prefect’s badge. That means it couldn’t be
Harry…

“I kindly ask Mr. Ronald Weasley to come forward and be recognized!” Professor
Dumbledore announced, and waved his wand over the staff table. A golden plaque
appeared on the white tablecloth, a Gryffindor Lion proudly emblazed on the smooth
polished surface. ”Please put your hands together in appreciation of this exceptional young
man!” The teachers erupted in applause, shortly followed by the majority of the shocked
students who didn’t see that one coming. He looked across to his sister, who was beaming
with pride, her hands coming together with such fervour that it appeared to be a blur.

“Come on! Go – get up there!!” Hermione screamed over the din, pointing to where
Dumbledore beckoned him. He rose slowly to his feet, and amazingly, all of the other
students did too, awarding him a standing ovation. Ron blushed furiously, making his face
almost as red as his hair- it finally dawned on him that everyone was clapping for him. His
pulse raced in his ears, and the tremendous din felt as if it were coming from far away. He
proceeded numbly to the front of the hall, his footsteps felt as if lead was bound to his
ankles.
Is this for real? Or was he dreaming?

Professor Dumbledore came around the table, and took his hand in a firm handshake. Ron
looked eye to eye with the younger version of his Headmaster, and stammered: “Uh..what…
this is for me? ”

“For bravery and composure in the face of danger, and the sharpness of mind to command
all of the houses in a united effort against a common foe, it is my duty, and also my
pleasure to present you with this award. For protecting all of my dear students on the train,
and risking your life for the safety of others, I- Albus Dumbledore, thank you on behalf of
the entire staff and all of the parents who have mailed me, heaping praise for your selfless
actions. This is what we try to inspire in all of our students, the determination to help those
who in need, and the fortitude to do so, even if we ourselves do not believe in our own
abilities. That is the mark of a true Gryffindor!”

At that moment, Ron remembered what Harry said about Neville the day he left:

“We should honour his life by never taking for granted that, even though we may be scared,
even though we thought that we were powerless to stop those who would hurt us, those
who would try and harm those we love, we should never give up. Neville fought for us, he
fought bravely, and his life was not taken in vain.”

Ron did not know what to say as he numbly shook his hand, taking the cool golden plaque
in the other. The applause grew even more feverish, and Ron slowly looked at all the faces
clapping him on, yet still he couldn’t believe it. Professor Dumbledore gave him a fatherly
hug, and said in a lower tone of voice.

“Well done Ron, I am very proud of you. Your family is also extremely proud of you…and I
daresay a certain Hermione Granger is ecstatic about this as well…”

Ron glanced at her, and Hermione was clapping so hard he swore that she would need to do
the anti-swelling charm to treat the sting. Her face was aglow with pride, and he could
swear he saw two tears rolling down her cheeks. Ron still couldn’t believe what was
happening. But her expression said is all. After nearly seven years, the girl who he admired
and looked up to finally believed in him, and with a conviction.

I can’t believe it! Hermione is proud of me!

And with that feeling of euphoria, he finally grinned, and lifted his award for all to see. The
Gryffindors raised their enthusiasm another notch, and Ron slowly went back to his seat.
Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him so tightly he thought it would
break. “Hermione, take it easy- you’re starting to behave like my mother!” he said, blushing
furiously.

“Ron- do you really know what this means? Not only are you a head boy- which is a great
accomplishment- you’re Order of Merlin third class: a Knight of the Magi! Imagine how good
that would look on your record for when you leave Hogwarts! Ooh- I’m so jealous! The
ministry must really think highly of you, Sir Ron,” she added with a twist.

Ron beamed. “ ‘Sir’ Ron? You know, I could get used to the sound of that,” he said with a
chuckle. Hermione laughed. It was due time that others recognized Ron as the good person
he is.

************

Lord Ash was in William Hargreaves’ secret lab, both of them looking at the bodies floating
in the numerous Chambers of Iralem positioned alongside the wall of their hidden
laboratory.

“Excellent, excellent! The second tier of their Elemency has been infused successfully,
correct?” Lord Ash asked his right hand man. His former student, Draco Malfoy, was
exceptionally gifted; no wonder the Dark Lord wanted him. But, a good teacher will create a
good student, and that is what Lucius Malfoy’s last request was it not? He remembered
when he visited him in his final days, jailed and humiliated by the Ministry of Magic.

“Ash- I have given you generous amounts of money, alongside my respect and loyalty over
the years. Make him worthy of the Malfoy Empire. I want my son to be the strongest. Train
him well. Do not fail me, old friend.”

Ash laughed at the memory. The fool. His son was a snob and a weakling. But, on the other
hand, his rare and immense Infernus ability was quite useful, if he could harness its power.
When the muggle lover Dumbledore brought him unconscious and helpless at the beginning
of the year to Hargreaves he couldn’t believe his good luck.. He would finally be able to
Siphon out his natural power without fear of the consequences. Now, he was looking at the
fruit of his labour.

Four ordinary wizards, volunteers slowly being powered by the Chamber of Iralem’s magic
empowerment properties. Soon, he will have four knights of the Apocalypse: two Infernus
Elementals- one Terra Magi- and finally, a Torrentia magi: Fire, Earth, and Air Summoners.
He laughed again to himself, much to Hargreaves unease. Four Elementals: more than
enough to crush anyone who opposes him, even that fool Dumbledore and young Potter.

It was just a matter of time….

***********

Harry was in Counter Offensive Duelling class or ‘C.O.D.’ for short, taking notes feverishly
as Kingsley rambled on about the use of simple spells in advanced dueling techniques. His
hand was scribbling furiously, he had completely forgot to get the Quick-notes Quill, and his
essay quill was just not cutting it. Plus, the increasing amount of counter and counter –
counter spells were heaping to make his little shorthand notes into one long, confusing, roll
of parchment. Harry’s feather quill danced and trembled as he tried desperately to keep
pace with the lecturer.

“….and using the Disarming charm is meaningless against those who have done any sort of
training in the Ama No Batonnairre magic style. The first properties of Wand less magic
trains us how to manipulate small objects. Which in turn means that for a skilled magi, the
Expelliarmus hex can be countered with a simple summoning charm. Henceforth, by using a
conjunction of the Disarming hex plus the Vanishing Charm a more effective spell is learnt:
the Disengagement Jinx. It is called this because it is used to permanently stop a wizard in
his tracks, without directly attacking him. However, the counter for this Disengagement hex
is also quite simple and it only takes another quadratic of four simple spells….”

“Psst! Potter! Potter! ”

Draco was beginning to irritate him greatly these past few days. Without stopping to look
up, he ignored the blond haired boy who slid unto the bench next to him. Draco grinned as
he watched Harry in his ‘good student’ mode. Not even bothering to stop his momentum,
Draco “accidentally” bumped his elbow with his, causing Harry to make a large line across
his notes. Harry cursed, and he involuntarily ignited his quill. For some reason, whenever
this git was around, his little Summoning power seemed to constantly trigger of in the worst
of circumstances.

“Still can’t control that properly, Potter? Maybe I should stick a hazard sign on you so that
you don’t interact with anything remotely flammable. Look at this,” he said, giving Harry
today’s edition of The Prophet. “You’re little Weasel friend is on the front page: how does it
feel to once again be second best? I’ll be damned if I ever call that loser ‘Sir’ Weasley,” he
added with contempt.

“What are you on about?” Harry said, his eyes scanning the front page. Yep, sure as he
said, Ron has been awarded the Merit of Valor, which made him a Knight in the British
Wizarding community. He couldn’t believe it! He never even got his Merit of Valor last year,
well he couldn’t really blame anyone- Cornelius Fudge was under one of the Death Eater’s
Imperius Curse, so it didn’t really count anyway. Harry pursed his lips as he read the
article.

“What’s the matter, Potter? Don’t tell me you’re jealous…”

“Jealous? Hah! Why should I be jealous? He’s my friend!” Even to himself it sounded fake.

“Oh by the way, Potter- I think you should watch your back,” Draco chuckled, his tone
dropping a notch. He nudged Harry with his elbow again, and indicated with a little tilt of his
head at the current S.T.A.R. trainee division squad leader, Ryan Mulciber. “There seems to
be a growing interest in your daily routines and movements recently from a certain Death
Eater’s nephew. I'd look out for him. Heard he’s really good. I overheard that only a few
high ranked officials know anything about what happened to those wannabe Death Eaters
who attacked the train- quite a rep your building as dark wizard hunter-“

“I am NOT a dark wizard hunter!” Harry said through gritted teeth, remembering when
Remus blew up with him during the summer: “Dammit Harry! Don’t you see? He was a
hunter! Not much unlike the hunters that came after you- the only exception was that he
was human! Solidus was a murderer, and that - tha- that sword killed legions! Harry was
brought back to the present. “I – I didn’t know what else to do at the time, so I had to use
the sword!” he defended himself.

“Right,” said Draco, and evil smile on his face. “ By the way- “ Draco paused for effect.
“Whatever did happen to that little toy of yours? You know, the one you use to make paper
dolls out of people and stuff-“

That triggered a response from Harry. He said in a very quiet voice, “ Don’t ever speak
about that again. You hear me Malfoy?”

Draco leaned in even closer and taunted him. “~Oooo~ is the big bad doggy going to bite
me? I’m scared Potter, I really am…” Harry’s fingers curled into a ball and all the lighted
torches and chandeliers extinguished immediately, casting the room in pitch darkness.
Jeremy Kingsley stopped in the middle of his lecture.

“What is going on?” he queried aloud.

“ Do not mock us.” The voice echoed once in the room, and after a few seconds of
strained silence the lights re-ignited.

“Who said that? Who’s there? Everyone, on the alert!” said Jeremy Kingsley, pulling out his
sneakascope. When it remained dormant, he frowned. There definitely was an aura of Dark
and powerful magic just now. Who spoke in that voice? “Okay, guys, we’ll call that quits for
today. I want a report on my desk by next week of all the ways to safely nullify a target
without inflicting any physical damage. Enjoy the weekend.” The class got up, and exited
into the large hallways, eager to find the nearest watering hole.

Draco slapped Harry on his shoulder, and congratulated him. “ That’s more the spirit. I hate
seeing you so goody-goody and studious. Oh, by the way, your previous left-overs says ‘Hi!’
She says she hasn’t even gotten a chance to see you, and she wants you to meet her in the
pub after classes. And no, I won’t tell you that she’s looking very much forward to the after
party, and what she’s going to do to you whole night long…”

“What are you on about? Cho?” Harry ignored his last remarks. “She’s here?”

“Ah, it does seem that you have gotten sharper ever since having to think for yourself,
instead of relying on that mudb-“ he cleared his throat, “ I mean, beautiful woman of
yours,” he said in mock apology. Harry didn’t know what irritated him more, hearing Draco
insult Hermione or calling her beautiful. He felt like slugging him either way. “ Potter, you
know something?” said Draco as they walked down to the pub just off the campus shopping
center. “It seems that anytime I meet with the lesser wizards from our alma mater that
they have no clue that I am their superior. Imagine this, she walked straight up to me and
introduced herself, saying she knew that I was a rookie in your precious ‘S.T.A.R.’ division.
This is beginning to greatly infuriate me, Potter. A “rookie” ? She dares to call me a rookie?
And even worse, they don’t remember my name. You said you had answers, and I want
them, now.”

“You have some nerve, Malfoy. You show Cho some respect, or else!”

“Is that a threat?” Draco smiled. “This is getting interesting.”

“Consider it an unfriendly warning. Don’t underestimate me, Draco. I don’t need a sword to
kick your ass, and you’re welcome to have a go at me any day. Just remember I’m the
fucking boy-who lived- and you’re just another Slytherin. Just one more name to cross off
the list.” Harry snapped his fingers in finality. “So now what you could do is shut up, and go
and get me a drink.” Harry sat down at the furthest table from the entrance, now in a foul
and cranky mood. Draco laughed heartily, and Harry lips twitched fractionally in a smile.

“By god I love it, Potter. You’re a sick fucker you know that? What’s your poison?’ he
offered, and Harry just glared at him.

“I want a milk. No wait- make that a chocolate milk. And be quick about it.” He ordered, his
face dead serious. Draco laughed again and strolled away mumbling something about
“fuckers who were too dangerous for their own good wanting strong bones and pearly white
teeth…” Harry rest his head back against the wall, closing his eyes for a fraction as he let
out a deep breath. If he had to be around Malfoy seventy five percent of the time, he better
show him from the start who was in charge here.

“Well?!” a voice from the seat directly across from him. Harry’s eyes flashed open, and
before he even knew it, he was fully aroused and lusting after the girl in front of him. Fleur
Delacour had somehow appeared on the stool opposite, looking sexy as hell. How in the hell
does she sneak up on him like that?

“Well...er...well what?” asked Harry.

“Did you tell ‘im about moi? Does he think I’m bountiful?”

“Beautiful, you mean,” corrected Harry. He looked at her, easily filling out her very tight
top. She definitely was 'bountiful', alright.

“Oui Oui, be-you-ty-ful!?” she whispered leaning across the table to talk to him softly. Harry
had to forcefully avert his eyes from dipping too low. “All the girls want him, well and you
too of course, but I know you’ve got Hermy-own ninny,” she explained before quickly
reverting back to the subject. “…Is he single?”

“Hermione, ” he stressed, “ And yes, there is no woman for him.” Harry snickered, he
meant that literally.

“So he iz fair game! I think he is quite sexy- in that dangerous way, non?” she queried.
Harry really did not want to be hearing about how ‘sexy dangerous’ that fool was. He
shrugged. “ooh- ooh- here he comes – vite! How is my ‘air?”

“It’s perfect," Harry sighed. Let's see how Malfoy takes to her shall we? The boy in question
came up to their table, sneering at her.
“You again? Potter, I know every goddamn woman in the world wants your cock, but one ex
girlfriend is enough. Why is she here?” he asked aloud, not even caring that she could hear
every word he said. Fleur was immediately hurt. Harry’s face softened. He knew what
unrequited emotions felt like.

“Fleur is a good friend of mine, and if you want to sit at this table, you will kindly be
courteous to her.”

Draco stiffened, Harry did not usually speak to him on a level footing, and so for him to
request something politely must mean that she indeed was a friend of his. He glanced
across at Fleur, who was staring determinedly at a spot over Harry’s right shoulder.

“Pardon my rudeness, madame. My name is Draco Malfoy, and I am pleased to make your
acquaintance,” he bowed his head slightly towards her. She smiled, and nodded in return.
Draco took another stool, and gave Harry his chocolate milk. He scooted his seat so that
both men had their backs to the wall, and stared stonily at Fleur Delacour. Recognition
dawned, and he almost felt bad about talking like that in front of her. Almost.

“Now I know why you’re so familiar. You took care of me when I was injured, correct?”

“Oui! So you do remember!”

“I do now. I would like to thank you for your expertise and your efforts. I will not forget it
again,” he said in a business-like maner.

Fleur beamed. Harry wasn’t so sure what to make of this. He never really heard Malfoy talk
nicely to anyone but his sister. Draco took a sip of his drink. Harry mentally noted that his
drink was ridiculously expensive. At that moment he could see Cho in the crowd, apparently
looking for them.

“Hey! Cho! Over here!” he called out to her. Cho turned, and saw them and smiled. She
walked over, and took a seat next to Fleur. Harry noticed that a lot of male heads turned as
she sat down. The two young men were quite aware that they were sitting with the hottest
rookie debutants at Lionheart, and instinctively they knew they just made a lot of potential
enemies. The girls, on the other hand, had no clue to the amount of attention they were
attracting, and smiled at each other, but it never quite reached their eyes.

“Hi,” said Cho. She folded her hands on her lap.

“’Ello,” Fleur responded, taking a sip from her straw.

Draco grunted.

“Hey! I didn’t even know you got in! So what are you majoring in?” said Harry.

“Oh, I think I’m going to branch into Healing with the option of Law. Sounds strange, but
this way I could please everyone, myself included. What are you doing here? Auror
Squadron?”

“Um- sorta. I’m in Special Tactics and Rescue- S.T.A.R. division. It’s a bit different I would
say,” Harry responded.

“Oh, and Draco was it? Thanks for relaying the message unto Harry here. So…What about
you? What are you studying?”

Draco was once again a bit irritated. Why didn’t they remember him? “I’m the same as
him,” he said simply.

“Wow, who would have thought that the two youngest guys here would be specialists? You
should be proud of yourself, Harry. Have you written Hermione as yet? Ron told me she
worries about you.”

Draco stiffened. He hated being categorized, even by age.

“Oh, and have you seen today’s Prophet? Ron’s being awarded the merit of Valor! I always
thought he had something more about him than meets the eye, that’s why I adore him.”
She paused at Harry’s expression. “What is it- aren’t you happy for him?”

“Yeah! It’s great! Why won’t I be happy for him?” Harry asked, trying his best to keep his
voice neutral. Draco snickered next to him and Harry kicked him under the table for good
measure.

“No , no no….I know you’d be happy for him! It’s just that I thought – er- maybe I better
just drop it…”

“I’ll tell you what’s bothering him. He’s jealous and his murder voice just scared the shit out
of Kingsley. I, on the other hand, thought it was classic.”

Harry stiffened. He hated Draco’s patronizing, even if it were true- especially when it was
true.

“Wat is ‘e talking about, Harry?” Fleur asked him, both girls wearing a quizzical expression.
Cho’s eyes darted between Harry and Fleur. Cho frowned slightly. Who was Fleur to ask him
personal questions? She was looking at him as if she knew him…intimately. Was the article
in the Quidditch monthly letting on more than just speculation- was there something deeper
between Fleur and Harry?

“I have no clue what he’s talking about.” Harry took his wand out of his pocket secretly and
hexed Malfoy underneath the table, making his shoes tighten painfully on his feet. “What
the fuck are you trying to pull, Malfoy?” he whispered sideways so that the girls could not
hear. He felt immense satisfaction when Draco began to squirm.

“Aright aright! Quit it! My toes- goddamit Potter! Stop!” he mumbled under his breath,
grimacing as he ducked his head to hide his expression.

Harry stopped his shrinking charm, and smiled warmly to the girls. “My esteemed friend
here has seen too many horror flicks. The lights went out during class, must just have been
magical interference, or a draft. That’s all. He just likes to exaggerate.”

Fleur and Cho were not at all convinced. They took a few more drinks, making small talk
that never seemed to flow naturally after Draco had that little crack about ‘murder’. Harry
was trying his best to lighten the mood, but to no avail. When Cho finally got up and told
them she had to go and study, Harry also got up to make good on his escape. Fleur, Draco
and Harry got up, paid their tab, and escorted the two girls back to their dorm houses. On
the way back, Draco pulled Harry one side.
“Listen - some crazy stuff happened to me this year, and I want some answers. I’ve heard
that you had trouble apparating- and I know the reason. My Infernus instructor- a man
called Angelo Dorius Ash- showed me what was the problem. If you help me, I’ll help you
learn to control the Infernus so that you’d be able to do your exam and get your permit. In
return, I want to know what in Slytherin’s name the reason behind Dumbledore having me
tortured me into near paralysis then trying to kill me. From what I know, I don’t think he
likes me, but Azkaban is a bit much, don’t you think, Potter?”

Harry’s eyes narrowed. “You said a man named Ash trained you?”

“Did I stutter, Potter?” Draco smirked. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Okay. You say you will show me how to apparate, and I will tell you what you need to
know. Deal?” Harry extended his hand automatically. The only thing on his mind was that if
he didn’t learn how to apparate, he wouldn’t be able to visit Hermione until he got another
set of wheels, which he doubted he would do, or left for end of term holidays. Malfoy looked
at the outstretched hand, and remembered all the way back in the first year: when he had
offered his hand to Potter, who had without a second thought turned him down. Time to
return the favour.

“Put that down, Potter. I won’t shake your hand. But if we agree on this, I will show you,
once you come straight with me.”

Harry could live with that. He put his hand back in his pocket. “Whatever. Here’s the deal:
there’s a man in the ministry called Hargreaves- and guess what, he works for this Ash guy,
who we’ve only heard of by name. Other than that, we have no clue as to who he is, but
you say he is your instructor, right?”

“Was. Continue,” Draco nodded.

“Now get this straight, first and foremost- Dumbledore did not send you to Azkaban. This
Hargreaves guy was the one who gave the order, and from what Fleur told me, some men
kidnapped you and sent you there- all wearing Obliviator uniforms. Hargreaves has some
influence, and probably got those guys to put you on that one way trip to Dementor
paradise.”

“Potter, you are not making any sense.”

Harry cursed in frustration.

“My instructor is a faithful friend of my father’s, and Hargreaves is my family doctor, as well
as a close business adviser to my father. He was one of the many prominent officials who
helped rebuild my house after my parents were murdered. I have known them all my life.
What you speak of is preposterous. It is the old fool who wants me dead, but I will kill him
first.”

“Yeah? Believe what you want, but I am telling you the truth. I personally heard them
talking, and saw them use the Chamber of Iralem at full power to basically cripple you! I
was there. That girl who you so rudely insulted – Fleur- fought off the Obliviator squad
while she was taking care of you and came all the way to Hogwarts, then Lionheart; to find
me after you were abducted. And do you know what for? To get me to help you, you
worthless piece of dragon dung! She put everything into finding out where you disappeared
to, and for months she infiltrated different ministry officials homes looking for clues. I
should have beaten you senseless then and there at the bar when you behaved like such a
complete asshole! She deserves better than you, but I’ll just let her have to find out that for
herself won’t I?” Harry’s temper rose almost to boiling point.

“Is this true?”

“YES!” Harry exclaimed.

“Well, I must have a little conversation with Mr. William Hargreaves and Mr. Angelo Ash,
don’t I?” Draco said, his face deadly serious.

“No, not yet. We’ll do this the proper way. Now listen to me very carefully, do you still want
to attack Albus Dumbledore?”

“I have no reason to now. The true culprits are revealed. I will not tolerate any betrayal to
the Malfoy family honour.”

Harry let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. A sort of relief washed over him,
and his tension that was accumulating ever since he was ordered to watch Malfoy
evaporated. “Do you still have the medallion of Sirius Black?” Harry asked.

“Yes,” Draco said softly, this was his mother’s parting gift, and he treasured it greatly.

“We will go to the Order of the Phoenix, and you will tell them what you have told me. From
there, we will get to the bottom of this mystery.”

Draco snorted. “Whatever.”

“Remember this, Malfoy. From now on, we do things by the book. No more running off and
doing shit. If you do, we may have cause to come after you. Consider this a friendly
warning.”

Draco shrugged in indifference. “Enough chit chat. Get some sleep, Potter, your lessons
begin at promptly four o’clock in the morning,” Draco ordered, walking off.

“Lessons? What lessons?”

“Apparation, Potter. The deal is the deal. I also do not tolerate tardiness. I expect you to be
on time. Do not make me wait or I will be much displeased.” Draco walked back to the
nicer, very expensive condos on campus.

“Fuck you, Malfoy.” Harry grinned. Stupid asshole. But at least he would be able to visit
Hermione. He made his way back to his tiny bedroom, and after undressing, plopped down
on his bed. All in all, things were going quite peachy. But in the back of his mind, Draco’s
words still haunted him.

”How does it feel to be second best to your weasel friend, Potter?”

Damn it all.
******************

Chapter 7: Questions and Answers

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** CHAPTER 7: Questions and Answers**

“You’re late.”

“Shut up.” Harry grumbled, the fall chill biting through the old clothes Draco had told him to
put on. “Damn it,” he said, rubbing his palms together. ”Why do I have to wear rags?”

“Do not question me, Potter,” Draco said in such a perfect imitation of Snape Harry had to
wonder it was a Slytherin habit to be as obnoxious as possible. “You’ll see soon enough.”

“What did you say about the summoning ability making it difficult to apparate?” Harry knew
that it had to be something in particular to give him all of this trouble. At least now he
would be able to finally discern what is going on- if Draco knew what he was doing. Which
he doubted very much.

“I want you to create ten flames at the tips of your fingers. Starting from very small and
then increasing in size from the right thumb all the way to the left little finger.”

“Huh?” said Harry.

“Do I need to write it down? No, that would be worse. Your reading skills, I’ve heard, is
abysmal in comparison to your listening skills.” Draco looked down the length of his nose at
Harry, who was already beginning to feel his eye starting to twitch in annoyance. Draco
snickered, and with a flourish, brought out both hands from behind his back, a small flame
sitting on top each finger, each increasing in size from right to left. It disturbingly
resembled something like a candelabra made out of petrified human hands in Sirius’ house.
Harry studied the demonstration. Didn’t look all that hard.

Okay..let’s try this..

Harry tried to do the technique, but instead of neat little flames lighting individually, one or
two flames combined together to make a bigger fire, some were at varying heights and
intensities, while his left ring finger didn’t even produce one. Harry frowned. This is harder
than it looks.

“Just as I thought. No talent whatsoever, you’re just pure dumb luck. Tell me again Potter,
who taught you to use the Infernus ability? Was it Dumbledore? If so, that old geezer is
more senile than I thought.”

Harry extinguished his hands, his temper rising another notch. He could not fathom how
one person could agitate him so. Hell, he was only here for three minutes and already he
wanted to slug him. “No one.”

“What do you mean, no one?” Draco snarled. “Don’t be doltish. Someone had to show you-
the igniting of the paper, then wood, then living plants- the whole nine yards.”

Harry shook his head in denial.

“Are you trying to tell me one day you just ‘upped’ and became a Summoner of the
Infernus?” Draco asked, stupefied.

“Well, remember when you were stupid enough to slap my woman and we fought- for some
reason I could have used it since then,” Harry explained. Well, that's what he thought had
happened.

“You were able to draw it out then for the first time? Preposterous!” he laughed in disbelief.

Even though he found it highly entertaining that Harry would deny having an instructor, his
memories took him back to something his own mentor once said; could this mean that the
old man Ash was true? Did Potter actually siphon some of my ability without me knowing?
Draco inwardly shuddered at the thought, hiding his apprehension behind his forced
laughter. But, he distinctively remembered that during all the times they fought together, or
whenever they were in close proximity, his Infernus ability was amplified, while Potter’s
temper was far more volatile than usual. Draco had dismissed the story his tutor had told
him; former tutor- that is; the stupid children bedtime tale told to gullible young wizards
and witches- of the ‘Second Coming’. According to him, the story stated that one day- the
true successors to the noblest Magi lines would re-unite- and either become Legends in
their own right, or tear asunder the whole magical world. He knew that one half of it was
true: Voldemort did indeed have wizards at his mercy until this man defeated him.
However, that was only one half of the equation- Potter and the Dark Lord never “re-
united”, so therefore the legend could never apply to those two. Voldemort may have been
the heir to Slytherin, and Potter here may, just may have the bloodline of Gryffindor, but it
still did not add up.

Maybe the Legend was just that, maybe it was just a tale, and nothing more. Draco froze
when a high voice in his mind contradicted him.

Believe what you want young Malfoy…the legend exists…

What the? It was that strange voice again. Could it be-?

Harry looked at Draco’s sudden change in expression; one second ago he was laughing at
him, now he seemed to have completely zoned off for a moment there. Harry cleared his
throat loudly to get his attention.

“Whatever. What is that about anyway?” Harry indicated the flames on the tips of Draco’s
fingers. Draco gave him a horrified look, but quickly hid it away. Composing himself, Malfoy
smirked again, which was beginning to annoy the hell out of him.

“Control. The thing about being an elemental is that it alters nature’s essence around you.
Anything that interacts with your specific summoning ability in the vicinity will always be
under your ‘radar’. As I am a seventh tier master of the Infernus, I sense all fires and
sources of heat within a specific distance. A Terra-magi will have control over the soil and
earth, while a Torrentia Magi will have control over the sky and weather patterns. Demonic
Summoners sense all dead spirits, while Divine Summoners detect life forces and the magic
potential in all nearby wizards. For example, using the third tier Wall of Fire Summon
-Inciendo ar Ramsfaritar- will draw upon your own reservoir of energy, while a more
powerful summon may borrow powers from elsewhere. The Eruptus Volcano summon will
use your personal ability, including the raw energy from the magma flowing deep under the
earth’s surface. Following, Potter?”

Harry had to admit; Draco may not be as dumb as he thought he was. He nodded, waiting
for him to continue.

“Good. If you do not control the Infernus properly, you will not be able to apparate, because
Apparation is linked with the very essence of Magic to make oneself Disappear, then
reappear in a certain area. If your summoning power is not under control, it will interfere
with the element of nature you harness,” Draco smirked at Potter’s quizzical expression.
“Oh by the way, that would be Fire- I know you are not the brightest torch of the lot, just
reminding you –“

“Don’t-“ Harry began, his irritation growing by the second. Draco cut him off, arrogantly
clearing his throat.

“Ahem! Do not interrupt me again, Potter. As I was saying, if you cannot control it, the
Infernus will cause a disturbance with the magic flow around you. In other words, if you
can’t shut down or control to a very specific degree the delicate tri- balance between your
personal magic aura, nature, and the magic flow of the elements, you will not be able to
Apparate. That’s is why you must learn to do the Fingertip Scale- when that level of
mastery is reached, you would be ready.” Draco twitched his fingers, and one by one, the
tiny fires extinguished from his fingers. “Which bring us to this- the time of morning.”

“Yeah. Why are we here at this ungodly hour?” Harry hated feeling inferior, especially to
this git.

“I have come to realize that predawn is the time where the Infernus is at it’s weakest; while
at Midday it is at it’s strongest. The colder you feel, the less difficult it would be nullify it.
Which is why I have told you to wear rags, which I must say Potter, looks like your normal
attire. Even for your standards, what self respecting wizard wears clothes like that?” he
eyed Harry’s faded Transformers t-shirt and a dirty sweat pants. “Throw those away. You
are painful to look at.” Harry didn’t give a damn what he wore. Draco laughed softly, and
then waved his hand in a dismissal gesture. “Anyway, now is the best time to train. Begin.”
And with that, Draco walked off, yawning widely.

“Hey, where the hell are you going?” Harry shot at him.

“To sleep. You will inform me of your progress during the coming weeks, Potter.”

Weeks? Did Malfoy just say weeks??! Harry fumed as he watched Draco saunter off back to
his apartment. Gritting his teeth in determination, he vowed he would master it in a single
week. No way was he going to have Malfoy look down at him as if he were some little
novice trainee. Not a snowball’s chance in hell.

**************

Weeks later, as September rolled into October, it still wouldn’t happen. The days passed in
a haze of constant fatigue for Harry. First, there was a magical drain on him as his ‘training
sessions’ were much harder than he had expected. Waking up early each morning for the
first week was not so hard. Then, he was optimistic that everything would go smoothly, and
this little apparation problem would be resolved as soon as possible. Harry trudged along
the halls to his first class, his hood preventing anyone from getting a really good look at
him. He was quite frustrated. ‘Everything would go smoothly’ – Hah! Yeah right…. He sat
down, and slowly tuned out as Ulrich Ferdinand’s deep voice permeated through the room.
He gazed at the open book on his desk and sunk into his private thoughts. He opened and
closed his right hand, feeling like a complete moron. How could Draco make it look so easy?
He sent a hateful stare to the blond boy on the other side of class. Draco waved back to
him, tiny flames dancing at the tips of his left hand.

Malfoy was laughing at him all the while, and Harry knew it. A whole six weeks had passed,
and it grated at Harry how he had to beg for any sort of hints, only to be shot down with
another sneer and some useless comment like “ Maybe I should buy you a rattle and
pacifier as well, Potter” That stupid finger scale was driving him nuts. There had to be a
secret to it that Draco was not telling him. Creating a big fire was easy compared to
creating ten little ones, and Harry struggled every morning to get it done. He was so
engrossed in trying to master the fine control in his Infernus ability that everything else
seemed to have taken a back seat, including the reason why he was trying so hard-he
wanted to be able to apparate to visit Hermione. Feeling utterly drained and exhausted in
this morning class he began dozing off once again, catching little snippets of the
Engagement lecture he was supposed to be taking notes on.

“… and when it comes to Vampires and other fanged sentient beings- their main drive to
exist is to feed on prey. The underlying factor of their psyche belongs on the nature for
blood, be it muggle, wizard, or otherwise…. And-“

Harry propped his head on his hand, trying not to drop his head on the desk as he
continued staring at a single crack on the wall….

“- keep in mind that they rather use hostages as a strategy than face you outright. So, over
the next few months-“

His eyelids were feeling quite heavy….

“ -and in the Psyche Class we will be studying the intricacies of dealing with that factor- the
hostage situation, and the various Special Tactics and Rescue used in our this Auror
division. Keep in mind that any time you are on mission: the S.T.A.R. Elite think outside of
the norm, and complete the mission at all costs….” He frowned. Someone caught the corner
of his eye at the back of the class.

Ulrich Ferdinand stopped his pacing, watching Potter drool all over himself at the back of
the class. Hmph -He never liked that boy. He had a grudging respect for his raw ability, but
his attitude- he couldn’t stand it! Ferdinand did not tolerate disrespect or a lack of attention
in his class. He scowled, his animosity aimed directly at the youngest student in the back
row. Everyone turned, and some began to snicker as a line of drool began to roll down
Harry’s chin. Draco looked over his shoulder, and grinned. He knew Ulrich had a personal
grudge against the golden boy, and also knew for a fact that the big dark skinned wizard
was a “hit first- talk later sort of guy”. He leaned back in his chair, and prepared himself for
the little show.

Ferdinand continued in a deliberate voice, picking up his wand from the table. “…and as we
pride ourselves on being the Elite, we never, EVER fall asleep on our watch!” He pointed his
wand at Harry, ready to hex him awake with a tasty Shocking Spell. A dark voice spoke in
Harry’s head, interrupting him from running through fields of poppies, arms outstretched,
skipping along in slow motion directly into a girl with bushy brown hair-

You are under attack ! His eyes flashed open.

A bolt of blue magic sparked from Ferdinand’s wand, heading straight towards Harry’ seat.
The whole classroom reflexively jumped back. Draco laughed. What was this man- insane?
Does he not know what Potter can do?

Crack! Ferdinand’s curse split the wooden chair into two, but obviously, had not hit his
target.

“Professor,” said a voice from behind Ferdinand. “I do believe that was a good attempt, but,
surely you didn’t think you’d hit me with that, now did you?” Harry asked politely, sitting on
top of the teacher’s desk, his legs crossed. Harry got off the table, yawning widely. “
Interesting spell.” He told his Tactical instructor, nodding at his broken chair. “Looked like it
might have smarted a bit,” he noted, standing right next to the big man, a heavy set man
nearly twice his size and weight. Ferdinand kept his wand held tensely in his grasp, a bead
of sweat forming on his forehead. They both stood quite still, surveying the damaged chair
that smoked slightly at the edges

“Shit...” he breathed softly, not even daring to face young Potter. Was he going to do him
in? Harry leaned in sideways, blocking his voice with the back of his hand.

“I apologize for falling asleep in your class, but I’ll let you in on a little secret- do not try
that again,” Harry said very quietly.

“H-How dare you!?” Ulrich stammered, his face going red. “Are you threatening me?”

“No,” Harry smiled. He drew his wand, and Ferdinand gulped. Pointing it lazily to his seat,
Harry muttered the fixing charm. “Reparo.” The pieces began to jump back into place, and
after a few seconds, the chair was once again whole. “But I would appreciate it if you didn’t
try to hex me while I slept. Accio!” His bag zoomed into his hand, and he left the class
without another word. Walking through the empty halls leading to the cafeteria to grab a
coffee, he contemplated on what had happened a few seconds before. He thought that he
had put that inner voice to rest when he returned Gryffindor’s Sword. However, that was
the second time in nearly four months he had felt Solidus presence still lingering inside. He
cursed softly. Now he had done it. He just hoped that Lionheart did not do a “Madame
Diggory” and kick him the fuck out.

But there was one thing he was happy about. After all the time wasted in training, he had
done it as pure dumb luck. His Teleportation was controlled, and strong enough to get past
the anti apparition wards Lionheart was Cloaked under as well. Finally! Forget that stupid
fingertip scale. If Teleportation worked for him- he’ll just have to fool the Ministry when he
did his Apparation exam. He will have to make it seem that he was doing it the right way-
Disappearing and Reappearing at the target location. It would have to be perfect- he didn’t
want to make the mistake and transport the invigilator again, like when he tried over the
summer. Once he could control the specific range of making a Portkey out of himself and
immediate personal space, his self-teleportation should be good enough to trick them.

Or at least he hoped so.

***************

“Hermione, I told Cho to tell him to check his mail, just as you asked. I think it’s bloody hell
piggish of Harry to ignore you just like that. I oughtta give him a piece of my mind,” Ron
grumbled.

“Ron, I really think something’s wrong with this whole situation. It’s not like Harry to act
this way,” Hermione explained, but did not explain further. Telling Ron that she thought
Harry was being possessed was probably not a wise move until Dumbledore came back.
That was also a dilemma, since the first week of school he has not been in Hogwarts. And
this sort of information about her suspicions of Harry’s condition was not something she
could simply put in a letter. What if someone intercepted it? She desperately wanted
someone to talk to about it. It tore at her. She trusted Ron, but when it came to this; she
just didn’t know how he would take it.

“What has it been? Three months? It’s nearly the bloody end of October and no one’s heard
from him. Cho mentions him once in a while, but other than that- it’s like he’s forgotten all
about us!” Ron countered, growing quite annoyed with the whole situation.

“What if-“ Hermione started, a thought popping into her head.” Ron, listen: when all three
of us hung out in Madrid for the Quidditch games, did you think that he was acting kind of
strange? You know, things that he should have remembered he didn’t and things he
shouldn’t know he does? Remember how he said Persues’ daughter was also called
Hermione? And that she also had a knack for books?”

“What do you mean? That Harry actually read Hogwarts: A History?” Ron snickered. What
was she on about?

“No Ron, Persues isn’t even mentioned in that book. And as you mention that- Have you
started it yet?” She crossed her arms. Ron dodged her glare. “Procrastinating till the very
end, Mr. Weasley?”

Ron poked her in her chest. “And by the way- it’s Sir Weasley to you young lady,” he
teased. Hermione slapped him on his arm playfully as they crossed into the Gryffindor
common room. She sat down on the well-worn couch and took off her knapsack. She began
to dig into it, both arms somehow disappearing all the way up to the shoulder as she peered
into the opening. Ron raised an eyebrow in curiosity. What the?

“I’m talking about names and places that just seem to jump into our conversation:
references to a past the Harry certainly did not experience,” Hermione explained, her
frustration growing as she could not find what she was looking for. “Where is that book?”
she grumbled, her head almost totally inside her bag.

“Uh- Hermione…” Ron said uneasily. If she continued at this rate- she’ll fall right in.

She groaned in frustration, and turned the bag upside down, jerking on it to let everything
out: quills, rolls of parchment- new and used, a extra set of Gryffindor robes, her potion’s
coveralls, text books, library books, a compact, a purse, toothbrush and toothpaste, a
calendar, a full sized globe, some knitted elf hats, a small mirror, a brush that definitely
seen better days, more scrolls, a stuffed toy rat for Crookshanks, a candy wrapper (or two),
the marauder’s map ( Hey! That should have been mine! ) a bottle of vitamins, some *
ahem * feminine products (which she quickly vanished from view) and finally, two large
tomes that landed with a tremendous THUD on the carpet floor.

“Travel light, do we?” Ron ventured, looking at the heaping pile of paraphernalia on the
ground.

“Look. in this book: The Rise and Fall of Godric Gryffindor It says here in brief passing that
Solidus and Persues were childhood friends. It has never mentioned Persues other than this
little excerpt. How does Harry know about his daughter being called Hermione, and she had
a knack for books as well?”

“Beats me. But so what? He knows, that’s not a crime,” Ron plopped down next to her,
looking over her shoulder at the book.

“Don’t you think it’s strange he would recall that piece of information as if he knew her
personally, yet not remember something trivial: take for instance he completely forgot that
you were a Cannons fan and that Dean was a soccer fan. I remember recently, can’t exactly
pinpoint when- he straight flat out told me that he saw a West Ham game and that I should
tell you to back a better club- because they stink. And he said ‘Ron’. When I looked at him
funny- he’s like ‘Yeah. Tell Ron, ‘Do not back West Ham. They are terrible.’ End quote.”
Hermione gave him a knowing look. Ron looked utterly scandalous.

“Me? Me!? I have no clue what soccer really is by the way- or footy- or whatever it’s called.
I don’t understand how Dean could have those boring still pictures on his wall- and why
would he think that I’m a fan? He’s known for ages that my favourite -“

“I know, I know. Don’t you see? Something is wrong with that place. I think they may be
drugging him, or something…”

“Drugging him? Isn’t that a bit too much?” Ron really thought Hermione was the one losing
it these days.

“Maybe…but he acts so strange. Remember he thought he told us about his wandless magic
bit? And remember when I blew him up with the Quidditch Monthly photo with Fleur and
also for not sending any mail to me for the whole semester? On the way to the ministry for
the first Apparation class he had the gall to tell me he wrote me a letter, when he obviously
did not! But he seems to think he did, as if he forgot about it all. In fact, he seems to have
a lot of glitches in his memory….” she trailed off sadly. Saying it out loud, it sounded far
more serious than when she kept it bottled to herself.

“Why don’t you go and tell Dumbledore?” Ron said wisely, seeing her forlorn expression.
Ron did not think it was really such a big deal, hell- he forgot things a lot too. But Hermione
was really worried, so… maybe to put ease to her fears she should go and tell him.

“I thought of that, and I want to, but he’s not here…”

“No, check it out- he’s back. I saw him come this afternoon with some official-looking
people from Lionheart, I think. They walked right up to the school with him after we left
Hagrid’s class. Looked mighty concerned about something too. Three guesses as to what, or
more specifically, who... ” said Ron. Hermione ignored that last.

“Really? He’s back?” and with that, she ran out of the room.
*************

A half an hour later Hermione was in the headmaster’s office, nervously twitching her
fingers as she told him that she definitely thought that Harry was not himself lately.
Dumbledore had stayed unnaturally silent for a few seconds or so, then summoned his
pensieve to his desk, taking out strands of memories and storing them for perusal at a later
date.

“Hmmm,” said Dumbledore, pulling on his beard. He still missed his old white one. He
finished his memory dump, and sent the bowl with the swirling memories back into his
cupboard.

“Hermione, I’m glad you came and told me this. It is a mystery that needs some immediate
attention. However, to possess another wizard, that wizard needs to be alive, and in
frequent contact with his victim. Pertaining to the increase in magical ability that Harry has
demonstrated- it is understood that he indeed inherits the bloodline of Gryffindor, which
makes sense if the prophecy is true: he wields the Power the Dark Lord knows not. I’m sure
he will mature and learn to harness his magic. Give it some time, he is young still, and
emerging abilities will cause him to behave erratically. Speaking of which- I want you to
look at this. These are the test results for Harry, as well as Draco Malfoy in the W.O.W.
assessment, or the Weighing of the Wizard examination. Based on these results, you are
eligible for different vocations. It seems that those two are quite extraordinary to say the
least.”

Hermione took both results scores eagerly, and compared them side-by-side.

**

Name: POTTER, Harry.

D.O.B: 1980/07/31
Division: Auror
Department: Specialist, S.T.A.R. Elite

MAGIC POWER: 114

MAGIC TECHNIQUE: 73
MAGIC DENSITY: 89
MAGIC ACCURACY: 90
MAGIC STAMINA: 77

MENTAL POWER: 93
MENTAL DEFENSE: 97
MENTAL ATTACK: 60
MENTAL STAMINA: 55
MENTAL AGGRESSION: 45

PHYSICAL POWER: 78
PHYSICAL DEFENSE: 80
PHYSICAL ATTACK: 66
PHYSICAL STAMINA: 74
PHYSICAL AGGRESSION: 98

WAND INCANTATION: 100

WAND TECHNIQUE: 97
WAND COMPATABILITY: 93
WAND RELIABILITY: 95

OVERALL AGGRESSIVE ABILITY: 133

OVERALL AGGRESSIVE TECHNIQUE: 85
OVERALL AGGRESSIVE KNOWLEDGE: 97
OVERALL AGGRESSIVE EXPERIENCE: 97

OVERALL DEFENSIVE ABILITY: 95

OVERALL DEFENSIVE TECHNIQUE: 77
OVERALL DEFENSIVE RESISTANCE: 97
OVERALL DEFENSIVE EXPERIENCE: 87

TOTAL OFFENSIVE : 103%

TOTAL DEFENSIVE : 90%

MAGICAL PROWESS: 193

RANK: ‘S’ Class Paladin

**

Hermione eyes grew huge? Harry was “S” class wizard? But he was only seventeen! She
then looked at Malfoy’s results.

**

Name: MALFOY, Draco

D.O.B. : 1980/02/29
Division: Auror
Department: Specialist, S.T.A.R. Elite

MAGIC POWER: 98
MAGIC TECHNIQUE: 76
MAGIC DENSITY: 98
MAGIC ACCURACY: 87
MAGIC STAMINA: 125

MENTAL POWER: 98
MENTAL DEFENSE: 56
MENTAL ATTACK:60
MENTAL STAMINA: 140
MENTAL AGGRESSION: 70

PHYSICAL POWER: 65
PHYSICAL DEFENSE: 65
PHYSICAL ATTACK: 70
PHYSICAL STAMINA: 78
PHYSICAL AGGRESSION: 87

WAND INCANTATION: 97
WAND TECHNIQUE: 87
WAND COMPATABILITY: 95
WAND RELIABILITY: 99

OVERALL AGGRESSIVE ABILITY: 78

OVERALL AGGRESSIVE TECHNIQUE: 77
OVERALL AGGRESSIVE KNOWLEDGE: 100
OVERALL AGGRESSIVE EXPERIENCE: 100

OVERALL DEFENSIVE ABILITY: 89

OVERALL DEFENSIVE TECHNIQUE: 70
OVERALL DEFENSIVE RESISTANCE: 65
OVERALL DEFENSIVE EXPERIENCE: 72

TOTAL OFFENSIVE : 89%

TOTAL DEFENSIVE : 74%

MAGICAL PROWESS: 163

RANK: ‘A’ Class Sorcerer

**

Hermione’s blood turned cold. Draco was this powerful? How did that happen?! She knew
Harry had a lot on his mind over the summer, and now she knew why. Draco was almost as
strong as Harry was! She looked in the Headmaster’s face. He also did not like how this was
turning out.

“The highlighted grades are what the Lionheart examiners are worried about. Jeremy
Kingsley contacted me while I was away on business for the Order, and demanded some of
my time. Demanded: I must stress upon the use of that word. This is quite astonishing, I
must say,’ Dumbledore noted, his tone heavy.

“What is?”

“The highest score available is supposed to be one hundred.”

“Oh.” Hermione looked down at the results, trying to comprehend what really was on this
paper. “What about the ‘Paladin’ and the ‘Sorceror’ thing? And the Magical prowess is
what?” she enquired, looking at the ridiculously high scores. This was unreal.
“That is the crux of the matter: The Paladin rank is the noble type of wizard: one who is
gifted in Spellcasting, Shields, and Dueling. Harry has inherited some of Gryffindor’s power,
and is generally a good sort of bloke.” Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled. “That, in combination
with his own natural power can explain his incredible score. Young Malfoy on the other
hand, should not be so gifted; even so, his score is also high above the mark. A Sorceror is
one who is gifted in Curses, Summoning and Metaphysical Attacks. This is what has the
Order, including myself, worried. The Infernus is a gift, yes, but even so, that does not
come into play unless he has found a way to tap into that branch of summoning power to
amplify his Magic quota. If this is the case, he is a very real and dangerous threat.”

“Could you remember your score?”

“Yes. But, I must remind you, I did not enter Lionheart at seventeen years. I trained very
hard after my years at Hogwarts, and then decided to go and enroll. At twenty three, my
score was 172 and I was categorized as an ‘A’ class Conjurer.”

“Conjurer?” Hermione questioned.

“One who is gifted in Manipulating objects, and also has an excellent sense of Luck and
Timing. Gifted in the arts of Perception, Occlumens and the Illusionary techniques.”

“I see.” Hermione once again peered at Malfoy’s results sheet. “Is this bad? I mean, Draco
being so powerful an all. Didn’t he set the stadium on fire?” Hermione asked, her heart
beginning to race.

“Fortunately for us, Harry has mailed me and said that Mr. Malfoy no longer harbours
malicious intentions towards me. In fact, now he wants two other men to take my place:
Ministry healer William Hargreaves and a mysterious man named Ash. As far as we can tell,
their slates are clean. For the past few weeks we have been doing investigations, but
somehow cannot link those two to any real evidence of their role in any wrongdoing.”

Inside, Hermione felt devastated. Harry had mailed the headmaster?

But …

“We are trying to contact these two men for questioning, but our attempts have been futile.
Very ‘busy’ men, if their excuses mean anything,” he continued. “I think a bit more of
persua-“

…He forgot all about me?

Dumbledore opened his mouth to continue, but on seeing her face, he quickly changed his
mind. She tried to remain calm, but all she felt was going back into her room and cry.
“Hermione, are you all right?”

“No. I’m going to bed.” Without another word she left his office.

Chapter 8: Hermione Granger...solemnly swears that she is up to no good?

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**CHAPTER 8: Hermione Granger... Solemnly swears she is up to no good?**

Harry was in a much better mood over the next couple of weeks. He was slowly but surely
getting his Infernus ability under tighter control, and now could ‘apparate’ without too much
difficulty. Whistling merrily as he went for lunch at the cafeteria, none other than Cho
Chang intercepted his path, effectively blocking him.

“You have some nerve, you know that Harry?”

“Huh?”

“Look, I know you’ve got things going on- but can you explain to me why you haven’t
mailed Hermione? Ron is furious on her behalf and now I am too! You should be ashamed of
yourself!” Cho scolded. Dammit! How could he forget?

“Er-“

“Nope! No excuses! I’m going to sit down and watch you write her and tell her all the sweet
nothings she wants to hear and it better be good or by Merlin’s beard you’ll feel my wrath!
And-”

’My wrath’? Who says these things any more? Even so, Harry couldn’t explain this peculiar
amnesia. How was it that he kept forgetting? Good thing Cho was around.

“Sure.”

Cho broke off suddenly. Was she hearing correctly? Did he just agree to what she was
saying? Well anyway, that’s a good start. “ Um- okay. Let’s go.” Harry nodded, and they
both went into the cafeteria together.

************

“Hermione, would you please calm down a bit? I am supposed to survive these classes
y’know!” Ron exclaimed, narrowly dodging a tasty Reductor curse. His shield just barely
glanced that off course. Looking at the huge crack in the wall, he was really glad that did
not connect. Hermione was facing him square on, her wand still smoking slightly as the
seventh years did their advanced dueled exercises in the DA classes. Ron had a bad inkling
about this. Hermione needed to release the pent up frustration she’s been habouring. And
with her knack of knowing exactly which spell would counter the opponent’s attack it was
becoming quite clear that she would win this round. She had a vast arsenal of spells at her
disposal. Ron smiled in reluctant admiration. She was damn good, and if she was really
serious, could be an excellent combatant. And with this Divine Summoning ability- her
potential had no limits. They squared off again, Ron’s preferred dueling technique that of
the Nordic wizards of old, his wand held horizontally in front of him, his body twisted so that
his other arm was hidden from view, ready to use any sort of hidden weapon he may be
carrying. Hermione steadied herself, and entered into the Apollo Dueling stance, her wand
held directly in front, her free hand clenched in a fist behind her left ear.

Harry mate, I’m gonna hope you survive when Hermione visits over the holidays. She’ll
have her nut when she sees you.

“I’m sorry Ron,” she breathed, her temper subsiding. She wasn’t up to dueling today. ”It’s
just…” she trailed off. She lowered her wand. Ron frowned; this moping wasn’t like
Hermione. He knew she missed him a lot, but even so, in the middle of battle you can’t just
begin to feel sorry for yourself.

“Expelliarmus,” Ron said lazily. Hermione started, but by the time she realized what was
going on, her wand was already in Ron’s hand. “Hermione, you’ve got to focus. I’m sure
he’s okay, you just have to bear with him for a bit-“

“Easy for you to say. You and Cho correspond regularly. You don’t know how this feels- this
sort of –“ she trailed off, and sighed in frustration.

“I’m positive everything will be okay,” Ron encouraged, wrapping an arm around her
shoulders. His words were optimistic, but in reality he had no clue what was going in his
best mate’s head. What the hell was Harry doing? They left the room of requirement after
the session, Ron kept his arm around her as he consoled Hermione all the way back to the
common room.

Harry, you better come good this time…

*************

Two weeks later, Ron and Hermione were at the Gryffindor table having breakfast. It was a
bleak morning, the skies grey with the upcoming winter. Seventh year was tough on him,
he had all this work to do, a quidditch team to captain, a DA class to teach, head boy
responsibilities, and this weird feeling of becoming a wizarding celebrity almost overnight.
Sometimes he still couldn’t believe it. All those years ago, when Ron saw the Mirror of
Eriseed he had hoped to be the Quidditch Captain, and be just as successful as his older
brothers Bill and Charlie. Now that he had reached that point in life, it all felt, empty. His
best mate was no longer around everyday to share the jokes, to talk about teachers behind
their backs, and to give the school a sense of balance. After all- he was the Boy who lived,
and he gave hope to those who didn’t have, and was a source of inspiration for those who
didn’t believe in themselves.

Ron fingered his prefect’s badge absently, his mind thinking of all the times that Harry did
what needed to be done, and was never once credited for it. And the one time that they
thought that the Ministry was actually going to recognize his efforts, it all turned out to be a
Death Eater trap, resulting in the one of the worst terror attacks ever. It wasn’t fair. He was
a nobody, yet here he was, head Boy, Gryffindor Captain, and Knight of the Magi, complete
with the Merit of Valour.

A merit that should really be Harry’s…

He looked across to Hermione, and she ate through her breakfast half-heartedly, her spirits
down. Ron felt sorry for her, she’s done so much for everyone, yet she was the one with
this burden to carry. He was about to say something, but a loud shriek pierced the relative
quiet of breakfast. The high-pitched squawk came from a majestic hawk that swooped low,
a medium sized package clutched in his talons.

“Hunter!” Kenna Rossilini cried. “Come here boy,” she coaxed him. “ I wonder what Draco
wants to send to me?” she said excitedly, holding her hands open for the package.
Everyone paused, and Hermione froze at the sound of his name. The bird ignored Kenna,
and flew directly to Hermione, releasing the package above her head. She caught it, both
eyebrows raised. Perplexed, she read the note to the addressee – it was indeed for her. The
hawk swooped out of the hall, the incident over just as quick as it had started. Kenna was
absolutely astounded, and her eyes narrowed at Granger.

"Oooh- that bitch! What does Draco have to do with her?"

Taking out one of Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes Extendable ears, she jinxed it to snake low
under the tables and creep up underneath the Gryffindor table. Her eyes focused on the
back of Ron’s flaming hair as he scooted over to see what it was.

“Are you sure you want to open it? I mean, it could be something dangerous- like Death’s
Snare or something-“

“No. It feels like, clothes or something. Soft…” Hermione responded, turning the neatly
wrapped package over and over as she inspected it. “I’m opening it.”

“Wait! Probably it’ll be better if we did this somewhere safe- how about the Prefect’s
lounge?”

“Good idea,” Hermione agreed. “If we hurry, we could check it before Flitwick’s class. Come
on,” said Hermione and they both hurried out of the hall. Kenna reeled back in her
extendable ears, and took out another of those wacky twins’ inventions: the Skeeter Bug.
She didn’t understand what was the reference to calling it that, but basically it was a little
sticky button that if placed on someone’s clothes will transmit sounds back to the receiver.
Very good tool used to pry information secretly. She smiled, and picked up her books. She
had to head them off quickly. Springing to her feet she followed the two Gryffindors out of
the hall. Ron and Hermione made their way up the moving staircases only to stop short
when they heard a girlish scream from a little lower down.

”Help! I’m stuck!”

Ron turned, and there a few levels down, Kenna Rossilini Malfoy was clutching her knee, her
calf sunken into the trick step that everyone knew to avoid. Ron did the gallant thing and
volunteered to help her. Hermione made a face.

“Oh come on,” she grumbled. Boys and pretty faces! She prided herself on being fair, but to
that particular individual, it was possible to reach a higher level than Umbridge in the “I
loathe that bitch” department.

“Come on Hermione, we’re prefects,” he mocked her in the same exact tone she always
used on him. He made his way back down the steps and helped Kenna out of her little fix.

“Thank you,” she breathed holding unto his bicep as he helped her regain her balance.

“Just look out next time,” he said with a friendly enough smile. He still didn’t trust her, but
she no longer intimidated him. Kenna returned the smile and made her way to
Transfiguration. Ron looked at her appreciatively as she sauntered off. Damn. That is one
hot beeya-

“Ron!” Hermione snapped him out of it. He caught himself and raced back up the steps.
“See? That wasn’t so hard,” Ron said as he and Hermione continued towards the prefect’s
lodge. “Weren’t you the one harping on about ‘House unity” and such?” he smiled at her,
knowing fully well that those two hated each other’s guts with a passion.

“Let’s just check out this parcel, shall we?” She cut him off irritably. At a seemingly blank
piece of wall they walked right through it and were in a small common room of sorts. The
prefect’s lunge was where they had their prefect meetings, and scheduled patrol rosters for
the term. The plus side to it was that only prefects could enter, or if invited by one. Kenna
doubled back and trailed them secretly, her finger keeping the receiver in place in her ear.
Bugging Ron was much simpler than she expected. It was coming a bit fuzzy, but when she
got around this next wall and it should clear up- yes! It’s clear now! She kneeled behind a
suit of armour, and listened in.

“- Hey- it’s Harry’s invisibility cloak- and what’s this? ‘Quick’n’easy’ Polyjuice Potion?” Check
it out! It cuts down brewing time in half -Wicked! I wonder what it’s all about? What’s
written on the parchment? How the hell did Draco get this cloak- Quick open it!“

“Ron, wait no don’t grab- Sshh- no wait- it’s from...it’s from..”

“It’s from who?!”

“I can’t believe it. It’s from Harry!”

“You’ve got to be kidding! Why would Harry use Draco’s hawk? Tell me what it says!”

“It’s a letter! All right, he says:

Dear Hermione- and Ron if you’re there,

I know I have been a real jerk about not mailing you and all, but get this: this time I know
something’s up and it’s not all my fault. I can’t give you all the details right now, but I’ll
trim it down to the basics until I find another more secure way to contact you. I’m actually
sneaking Malfoy’s eagle to you, and he will be pissed if he catches us- oh by the way Cho
says hi! She’s right next to me by the way, and on the lookout. I would have to fill you in
more about the weird things later; this bird is getting impatient. I don’t trust Lionheart’s
owls, I’m worried about Hedwig, she seems in a complete daze recently, so this fellow here
is all I’ve got. Here’s the scoop: I’m looking at the broom closet in the post office and I just
found out that none of your mail has reached my inbox here at Lionheart. It’s been stashed
away, alongside a couple from Remus- tons of fan mail, and incessant flyers from some
stupid Quidditch Sex Toy Company sending me job offers to market the latest Rocket
Jockstrap, some nutter thinks I’m really going to wear that. Anyway- I think there’s
something deeper going on in this school, because every time I remember to write you and
head to the post to drop it off- I get the sudden inclination to go elsewhere. Cho had to
drag me here, literally. I kept telling her I had to go to the bathroom but as soon as I got in
the place, the inkle to tinkle vanished. Strange huh? Like they intentionally don’t want me
to send any mail. May sound bang out of order, but stranger things have happened.
Remember the Goblet of Fire? Those were the days huh? I’ll have Fleur poke around and
see what she could find out. She’s good at that stuff.

Honey, I’ve missed you. Oh, and you too, Hermione. Okay okay! I’m kidding!

“Right. Got scared for a second,” Ron breathed in relief. Hermione kept what he said next to
herself.

Hermione I love you, (Hermione smiled warmly at this) and wish I could take back all the
days I’ve made you sad. I’m sorry, I really am.

I’m under tight scrutiny these days, I can’t leave Lionheart because I’m on probation. A
little mishap in my Tactics class with good old Ferdinand, but hopefully Kingsley would get
me off for Christmas. But before that, Viktor is throwing his 21st bash and he told me to
invite you guys as well ( I would have done it anyway) . The only thing is, it’s on campus
and it falls on the second-to-last Friday of the semester. Hermione, I know this may not
sound like your regular law-abiding Harry (she laughed at that statement) but you’ve got to
come! And you too Ron! Damn, I miss you guys.

Fleur, Cho and I came up with a plan, and by golly, we think it just might work! Erm – I
always wanted to say that.

So here it is:

1. You two are head boy and girl. From what I heard, that didn’t stop the other years’ head
boy and girl from skiving. Actually, if you two didn’t come I’ll be sure disappointed in you.
Percy was the only one who failed to do something remotely like this. Sorry mate, but your
brother is a killjoy.
2. Hermione, you’ve got the maruder’s map, and now my invisibility cloak. We’ve got to find
someone to sub for the both of you while you’re gone- that’s what the Polyjuice Potion is
for. On the day, I’m going to have to sneak in two trustworthy individuals to hold down the
fort until Saturday afternoon. Don’t worry, I’m working on it as we speak. It’s going to be a
blast.
3. Then, you got to use the secret passage by the bust on the fourth floor. I think the one
into Honeydukes may be the best choice of routes. I’ve learnt the Replication spell, but it’s
not the best to cover up my absence for long. I’m going to create an illusionary me, leave it
here, and pick you guys up at Hogsmeade. Oh yeah! Guess what? I can apparate now! No
more stupid fingertip scale. (I’ll fill you in on that later)
4. Don’t leave me hanging, Hermione. Just think of it as another of our ‘little adventures’.
And ask Ron how to activate the Map if you don’t know. Comes in quite handy.

I have to go. I think Draco’s coming. Bye.

Ps. Hermione I love you.

-Harry.

“Hermione, this is wild!”

“Ron….”

“Don’t tell me you’re even considering not going! This is going to be err…what is it those
yanks say? Oh yeah- Off the hook!”

“But, we’re prefects-“

“Oh, come off it! You only live once!”

“I don’t think tha-“

“Oh no.” Kenna listened even harder during the suspenseful intermission. What happened?
She jumped when the deep voice jumped back through the earpiece. “Oh shit!”

“What?”

“Hermione, we’re late for class!”

Kenna had barely a half second to make herself as small as possible, crouching low behind
the only cover in the hall. Ron and Hermione raced past, their book bags bouncing
haphazardly as both of them sprinted to the stairs. Kenna giggled, made a mental note to
mail Draco, and another to order a brand new outfit. After all, how often was it that she
would be able to see Harry? She had to be the hottest girl at the party.

*************

Over the next week Ron was meticulously tending to the ‘Quick’n’easy’ Polyjuice potion.
Instead of a whole month, it took only two weeks, which gave him a week of slack if
something did happen to go wrong. Things were pretty normal (and boring) in Hogwarts
without Harry, it just wasn’t the same anymore. He still needed to persuade Hermione
about this whole sneaking out thing, but in the end he’ll know she’ll go for it. Harry meant
too much to her. Right now she was fighting with herself. Either risk the trouble (which
made it even more fun) or be a bore and stay and miss out on seeing him again. Fight all
she wanted, she’ll be there. He knew her too well. He was grinning wickedly as he stirred
the potion into to it’s natural vomit texture when the ominous creaking of the front door to
Myrtle’s bathroom nearly made him jump and spill everything.

“Who’s there?” he demanded, his secret concoction safe in the furthest corner of the
haunted bathroom.

“It’s me,” came a familiar voice.

“Hermione? What, had a change of heart?” he teased.

“No – I uh- um just came to check and see that you weren’t having any difficulties- that’s
all...” she added hesitatingly. She approached him slowly, trying to eye the simmering
potion behind him.

“It’s under control,” he said proudly, displaying it for her to see. “And there’s extra, just in
case-" he pointed to another cauldron in the opposite corner.

“Oh. Good,” she said with a sigh of relief. Ron grinned. Hermione had let that slip.

“What are you gonna get for Vicky?” he baited.

“It's 'Viktor', and maybe a shirt or something- you know, nothing too personal-“

“AHA! So you are going! “ Ron laughed. “ Knew you couldn’t risk missing out on the eau de
Harry.”
Hermione laughed it off, but inside, her insides were tumbling. Was she really doing this?
Was she, little miss Know-it-all…going to intentionally premeditate a delinquent strategy
and aid and abet in breaking the rules? What if she got caught? If she did, she couldn’t live
with herself…

“Er- I’m thinking about it.”

“Good. Come on, that potion is safe where it is. Let’s go and make those Slytherins scrub
toilets or something,” said Ron, grabbing his knapsack and heading to the door.

“Ron!”

“Yeah yeah, I know, ‘don’t abuse it’- but on the other hand, I think they’ve been getting
pretty rowdy these days, time to make them toe the line-“ Ron chuckled as they left for
night patrol.

*************

As the weeks passed and the day of Viktor Krum’s party came closer, Hermione was more
worrisome than ever. She still couldn’t believe she was going through with this. When the
day actually came, she was strung tight like high-tension wire. As she dressed for class she
dreaded that any moment Dumbledore was going to jump out of the shadows and expel her
in front of everyone, then curse her into oblivion until she promised never ever to be
naughty again.

Did she say naughty? Me? Naughty? She was going insane. She couldn’t do this!! That is
until another letter came supper. This time both Ron and Hermione were so excited that
they didn’t even realize that a blonde girl was watching them very closely, her extendable
ear slowly creeping underneath the Gryffindor table. Hermione and Ron leaned close,
whispering Harry’s instructions.

Okay

This is it. Your replacements are on the way. They are best suited for this mission, and will
hold the responsibilities of being the head Girl and Boy with utmost respect. Ron, you know
how it’s done- tell Hermione how to activate the map- and you should see them coming
from the hidden passage number three exiting into the Ravenclaw hallway. Rendezvous at
precisely 6.30, which by judging by wind speed, altitude, eagle wingspan and the amount of
ridiculously huge droppings this blasted animal does in a day, this here letter should be
reaching you with about fifteen minutes to spare, give or take. Shrink your clothes, put
them in your bags, and have the Polyjuice Potion ready. Ron, Cho told me that you made
two separate concoctions? Good thinking. Put in your individual strands of hair into each
and carry it down to the meeting place.

I will meet you outside Honeydukes. Godspeed.

“Umm, Ron, who exactly are our ‘replacements’?” she asked him as they raced up to their
dorms, a doubtful expression on her face. Ron snickered.

“Well, er, I don’t know, actually. But don’t you want to see Harry?” he added hastily.
“Yeah…” she said softly, “but…”

“Come on, you only live once!” Ron said as he bounded into the boys room. Hermione
walked up the girl’s staircase, her heart pounding. She took out the outfit she had planned
to wear, and settled down on the bed. She shrunk the clothes and placed hem in her
knapsack, alongside all the other things she would need, like toothbrush, hairspray, and
makeup. When she returned to the common room, Ron was as hyperactive as a five year
old at Christmas.

“Jeez! You took ages!” Ron said. Hermione just stared. She barely took two minutes, if so
much! “Let’s go!” They made their way back down to the Ravenclaw hallway. “Well,
Hermione, you hold the map, Harry left it with you, so say the magic words!”

Hermione opened the map, and took out her wand. “I, Hermione Granger, solemnly swear
that I am up to no good.”

Messrs Moony, Padfoot, Prongs and Wormtail greet Miss Granger, and wishes her a happy
hunting trip! Also, on a side note from Messr Prongs, he wishes to express his heartfelt
gratitude in saving his son’s life. Let the secrets of Hogwarts be your fancy, and the
adventures of a lifetime be your joy!

Hermione did not know what to say as the intricate blueprints of Hogwarts School of
witchcraft and wizardry was now revealed in its entirety. She peered hard at the two dots
labeled ‘Hermione Granger’ and ‘Ronald Weasley’, and the two dots that were racing
underground. Two very familiar names…

“Oh No…” Hermione gasped. “You got to be kidding me! Them! As prefects? This is a
disaster!” Before they knew it, the hidden panel opened and two large figures emerged.

“Oy mateys! Sorry for the delay-“

“-But the cap’n wanted to have a word!”

Hermione really was beginning to have serious doubts about this whole thing. She covered
her face in hopelessness.

“It’s going to be a blast- no need for introductions-“

“But we are-“

“- the indomitable duo-“

“Forge and ”

“Gred Weasley-“

“-at your service, as per orders!”

“It’s ruddy brilliant to be back! Now where’s my badge-”

“-ickle Ronnikins?”

Hermione groaned, while Ron looked slightly pale. Harry, what in bloody hell are you
thinking?

“Come on kiddies- chop chop! Give us the ‘juice, and a strand of your hair! Got’s to get
cracking or else you’ll be late!” Both of them plucked a little bit of hair from their heads,
and dropped it into the two separate flasks. In the shadows, a young blonde girl was
watching very carefully, her eyes narrowed on what they were doing. The two tall read
heads drank a gulp of the potion, their eyes twinkling. As soon as they swallowed, they both
slammed the unbreakable flasks on the base of the huge bust.

“BBUuuurp!”

Hermione wrinkled her nose in disgust, but soon enough both of them began to look quite
sick, and their skin and flesh began to bubble. Kenna drew a shocked breath. What was
happening to them? In front of her very eyes, the two boys shrank a bit, one into a much
shorter person, the other into a gangly youth. Everyone paused, dumbfounded to say the
least.

“Well-” Fron said to Ron, “that’s that. Enjoy!”

“Granger, I must admit, I feel a sudden up rise in …intellectual fortitude budding from
within as we speak.” The twins took a look at each other, then the real McCoys, then broke
out in laughter. “Ciao!” Both of the twins ran down the hall. Ron and Hermione were still a
bit shell shocked, but they did not waste another moment and entered the secret
passageway leading to Honeydukes. When they were out of earshot George slowed down,
and beckoned his brother over.

“Hey, Harry won’t know, and it’s just a peek. Check it out!” Hermio-George whispered. Fron
came closer and peek down his brother’s now baggy shirt.

“Wow. You would have never guessed, huh? Now George, show her body some respect!
Remember our good mate Harry would do us both in, the way he’s going…” Fron said, his
tone a bit off kilter. He wasn't sure if that last was a joke or not.

“You know what? I never thought I’d say this, but I think he may already be unto us.
Damn, I’m going to have to change into girl’s clothes with my eyes closed. Speaking about
that, remember that bet we lost to Clearwater and Angelina? Never thought Percy’s type
would dare try that bet-“

“Yeah, don’t remind me,” Fron shuddered. ”Let’s hurry, before good ol’ Filch spots us.”

*************

Back at the Ravenclaw den, Kenna crept out of the shadows quietly, making sure no one
was around. Without any second thought, she took up the flask of potion that had
Hermione’s hair. She had once envied her for having Harry- now she could actually become
her! Grinning ear to ear, she pocketed the flask and raced back into her common room.
Draco should be coming on Stormcloud anytime now to pick her up, she had to get her
things and meet him on the quidditch pitch soon. Tonight, she had it all planned, down to
the last detail. She thought that the love potion would be the ideal compliment in
combination with her ‘talent’ over guys, but now with this – it was a done deal!

Harry- Tonight I’m going to make you my first!

*************

Chapter 9: Sex, Lies and Polyjuice

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**CHAPTER 9: Sex, Lies and Polyjuice**

“Professor Karkaroff, don’t you think Krum would try to stop us?” Ryan Mucliber asked his
former headmaster. He was stuffing his S.T.A.R dueling robes with the special potions he
would need for tonight.

“Nonsense!” Karkaroff cut him off. “Comraderie is a farce in the face of death. Have you
ever seen Viktor do anything remotely heroic? ” the gravely voice retorted. “Look at it this
way, inadvertently he has helped us. He has drawn the boy out into the open with this
ridiculous party of his, hasn’t he? I thought he had what it takes. But it turns out he’s just
another spoilt brat,” Karkaroff continued “ A pity. He had a lot of potential. Look at him
now- flunking classes and desperately hanging on to a quidditch scholarship. Shameful.”

Ryan Mulciber snorted. Indeed, this may be his one chance to have a go at Potter. First his
uncle, and now his eldest brother were defeated by that so-called prodigy. Ever since he
had laid eyes on him in Hogwarts back at the Tri Wizard Tournament, he instinctively
loathed him. Now, the snot nosed brat was actually in Lionheart, an achievement he worked
and sweated years for to accomplish. What was even worse, he was also in his Specialist
division, and taking most of the spotlight – he, the best in his class, head boy in school, and
also touted to be the next ‘great’ Sorcerer-class Duelist out of Durmstrang. He just could
not stand it. His once great family, now decimated and torn apart from the two wars,
haunted him every night. He didn’t care whom Potter was- or how ‘good’ he was rumored to
be. As the last Mulciber, he feared no man, muggle or wizard. His family motto was based
on the simple philosophy: There are those who are worthy, and those who are not.

As of tonight, Potter was no longer worthy to live.

He double-checked his armaments. It shouldn’t be that difficult- after all, the kid was new
to the world of real spells and assassination techniques. Hogwarts taught nothing of
importance when it came to Wizarding battles, and if his previous Headmaster was correct-
the source of his power was the sword, which he knew for a fact he did not have in
possession. Even so, he asked again, just to be on the safe side.

“Are you sure, positively sure, that he no longer wields the weapon?” Ryan asked.

“ I have it on very good word, from no other than one of the Dark Lord’s lieutenants,
Rodulohus Lestrange. His knack for gathering information is second to none,” Karkaroff
boasted, his expression confident.

“Very well. I ask for your leave- my deceased will not roam the nether without atonement.
With my own two hands-“ Mulciber pulled his hood over his brow, his stance defiant. “-I will
avenge.”

Clasping his hands together he muttered an incantation, “ Devominar leiscente.” His body
faded, then he transfigured into a dark mist, and dispersed into the night air. Karkaroff
watched him leave, then blew out a deep breath. He cursed himself, and Rodulphus
Lestrange for misleading young Mulciber. Lestrange wanted Potter observed, but testing his
patience by sending a man barely into his twenties was more like suicide. Balling his hands
into fists- he felt ashamed. Ashamed because all of his life he was a coward. If a boy such
as Mucliber could have the courage to face the one who conquered the Dark Lord, he
deserves to at least have reinforcements. With a grim expression on his face, he conjured
his old mask, and slowly his ordinary robes transformed into that of the feared Death
eater.. Even if it costs his life, he decided then and there- that he will pay homage to a
great wizard, and battle in the name of Lord Voldemort.

His student will not die alone.

*************

“Ron, are you sure this is the right way?” Hermione asked nervously as she held on to his
hand, crouching halfway as they ran through the underground tunnels. Ron’s wand was
glowing, and Hermione felt as if her thighs were going to scream in protest anytime now. It
felt as if they had been running forever!

“Just- a- few –m-metres more...huff” he panted, his gangly frame almost bent double.
Hermione tried to keep up, her brow becoming damp with sweat. Finally, there was an
ascent, which emerged into a small cavern with a drop ladder and a trapdoor leading to
Honeydukes sweet shop. “Come closer, Hermione,” he ordered, and took out Harry’s
invisibility cloak from her knapsack. Draping it over him, he climbed the ladder, pushing
open the trapdoor slowly.

“Good, looks like no one’s around- you can come up,” he whispered, and climbed up into
the stock room. Hermione followed soon after, her eyes adjusting a bit to the dark now that
Ron turned off his Lumos charm. There was still activity outside; shadows were playing
under the crack of the door leading to the shop itself. “Watch out for that- “ as if on cue
Hermione bumped into something that felt like a jar half full of some sweets- “Bottle!” Ron
warned. Time slowed down as the jar tipped over, Hermione’s eyes opening wide as it
precariously balanced on the edge of the shelf-

“Catch it!” she breathed- her composure already lost. Ron did the first thing that came to
mind- he did the Sloth grip roll- without a broom, and flung himself upside down at her
feet, his long arms stretching, his shoulder hitting the ground with a muffled thud. Not
expecting the speed at which he moved, Hermione tripped over his long frame and fell over.
Ron felt the jarring impact of her knee into the Weasley’s family jewels, but even with that
paralyzing blow nearly taking him out, he successfully caught the jar of Bertie Botts’ Every
Flavour Beans. He swooned, and quickly curled up into a ball. Hermione clumsily got to her
feet, shaking his shoulder in concern.

“Goodness! I’m sorry- so so sorry! Are you okay?”

“Nope…” he squeaked, his face blue in pain.

“Wait- I think I can try something- I’ve never got a chance to do this intentionally before-
hold on…” Hermione paused, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. She put her palms
on Ron’s face, and whispered, ”Leglimens!”

She delved into his mind, and felt the moderate amount of potential magic stored there.
Digging deeper, she focused on his physical being, and on the pain that was radiating in
waves from the land down under. Her lips moved in an unsaid incantation, and Ron felt the
pain ebbing slowly away.

“Hermione? Hermione?” she awoke suddenly, hearing Ron’s concerned voice calling her.

“What happened?” she queried. Why was she lying down?

“You...blacked out, or something,” said Ron. “You okay?”

“I’m okay- I think…” she said uncertainly. Strange- she healed up Harry from far worse
injuries- how come she did not black out then?

“Let’s get some light shall we? Instead of creeping around in the dark- Lumos!” he
whispered. His wand glowed warmly, then began to dim until it was almost nonexistent.
Ron looked at his wand with a puzzled expression. What the-?

“Lumos!” he said again, but this time, his wand extinguished completely. “Huh? What’s
wrong with my wand?” Ron asked, very much lost.

Hermione quickly put two and two together. Using her newly blossoming Divine Summoning
ability, she probed her surroundings. She could sense herself, a nice orange glow
enveloping her- ah yes, the shop owner, a fainter yellowish glow. On the other hand, Ron,
who was so close, emitted a very weak aura. Maybe she had inadvertently drained his
magic in order to heal up his slight injury- and probably passed out from not having enough
juice to draw upon.

“Um- don’t worry- I’ll do it. Lumos!” she said, pointing her wand. Ron was still foolishly
whipping his wand about, trying his hardest to get a reaction. Hermione hesitated; she
didn’t want to tell him exactly what had happened. “It’s just a side-effect of the healing
spell, you’ll be back up to full magic quota in a few minutes, okay?”

Ron shrugged, and both of them disappeared under the invisibility cloak. Sneaking past the
clueless old man, Ron and Hermione exited the door-(Hermione wisely using the Immobilus
spell which kept the bell above the door still) and once again were out in the fresh night air.
Taking off the Invisibility cloak, Hermione finally felt the adrenaline of breaking the rules
catching up to her- They did it! They were halfway there! And Harry was –

“Oy!”

She turned, and made him out in the shadows. She grinned; even though he was looking a
bit more menacing than she was accustomed to. He emerged from the alleyway, dressed in
a full mage’s hood and the Cloak of the Order of the Phoenix. Hermione wasn’t sure why,
but initially she felt apprehension in approaching him. Harry drew back his hood, and the
little uneasiness she had vanished. Harry was Harry- and in her eyes, he was more
handsome than ever.

“Harry!” she greeted him, and rushed forward to give him a hug. Harry hugged her back,
and spun her around full circle. Hermione screamed with the sudden movement, and felt
utterly winded when he set her back down.

“Shit- you nearly frightened the hell out of me- sneaking around in that...that…getup..” Ron
finished lamely. He eyed the ominous robe and hood.“ What- is it supposed to be the latest
‘thing’? Whatever happened to, well, jeans and t-shirt?”

“Well, they’re training us to be as professional as possible, and it’s drilled into me now to
wear this in public. Anyway - it’s just a robe,” Harry said in explanation, dusting a bit of lint
off the long sleeve.

“How have you been doing?” Hermione asked him, looking at his face. She automatically
moved a lock of hair that fell over his right eye. Ah not again- why doesn’t he cut his hair?

“Terrible,” he sighed. Hermione looked concerned, but he slowly smiled at her, taking her
close in his arms. “I’ve missed you a lot,” he said softly. He dipped his head to meet her
lips, but Ron broke it off-

“Aw, come on, at least get a room or something-“ Ron lamented. “Jeez-“

Harry smiled, and then ignored him anyway. He kissed her, and Hermione felt her insides
once again feel that pre-emptive warmth whenever they were about to make love. It was
amazing how his kiss alone could do that to her…

“Ahem! Can we get going now?” Ron intervened, after watching with a sort of sick
fascination/repulsion of them making out in the middle of the street. Their lips broke apart-
but the lovey-dovey look was definitely still there in their eyes. “So what- we all Apparate to
Lionheart? What’s the plan?”

“Er- yeah- sorta. Um...actually- well ..Erm.” he fidgeted, and then looked at Hermione
apprehensively. Hermione put her hands on her hips, giving him a glare.

“What are you thinking of?”

“Well, we can’t exactly apparate into Lionheart- its similar to Hogwarts- there’s a tight
security blanket around the campus. But-“ he trailed off.

“But what?” Ron asked.

“I can- er get us there in a close- well similar fashion- a roundabout way so that the
ministry won’t detect me-“ he grinned mischievously, digging inside of his robes. “The
Essence of Muriad,” Harry announced, taking out a small potion flask. At Hermione’s scared
look, he smiled again. “Don’t worry Hermione, I only need a tiny sip to nullify any emotional
signature that they could track me with- the ministry won’t be able to tell what’s going on-
it’s okay! ” he gave her a wink. Hermione didn’t like that idea one bit- that was a Dark Arts
Potion!

“Harry-“ she protested. Harry took out the little stopper- and before she could stop him, put
the vial to his lips and took a small sip. As he swallowed, a cold wind blew down the main
street of Hogsmeade. Ron didn’t know if it was just the chill of winter, but that draft gave
him the woolies. He looked at Harry- and into his eyes. The warmth and emotion that was
there a few heartbeats ago was gone- and his eyes were clouded with a vague emptiness.
Harry closed his eyes, and took a hold of both of their wrists. Ron wasn’t expecting that-
and instinctively tried to pull away. Hermione felt that strange sensation again, as if the
time and space around them was closing around them, each breaths becoming more
difficult-

Oh no! Was he going to –

The next instant she was swirling through dimensions, rapid-fire images shot past of the
flames of a thousand hells- accompanied by screams of the damned …

“We’re here. My little room is on the third floor-“ Harry announced. Ron and Hermione
opened their eyes, looking at their unfamiliar surroundings. This was a very strange place.
“Come on-“ he said, already walking to the entrance of the multistoried building.

“That was quick,’ Ron beamed- quickly following Harry a few paces behind. “Hermione!
Coming or staying?” he laughed over his shoulder, not even realizing she was petrified to
the spot. Harry ignored them as he tapped his wand on the door to the building. It opened
easily, and the two boys entered.

“Hermione!” Harry’s voice called back at her. “Hurry up.” She caught herself, and hastily
followed them. She hurried up to Ron’s side, taking his hand urgently.

“Ron did you feel that?” Hermione whispered fearfully.

“Hell yeah I felt that- first I was in Hogsmeade- the next thing I’m here. Plus- no portkey or
floo aftereffects. That’s what I call traveling in style!”

“No- I meant when he teleported us- the screams…the fire...!” That was the scariest thing
she had ever experienced.

“Uhh...what in the bloody hell are you talking about Hermione?” said Ron, his eyes
narrowing on her. “You saw something?”

“Yes!”said Hermione. “Didn’t you?”

“Finite!” they heard Harry tell someone further ahead. Ron paid no heed to it- but Hermione
felt something- a replica of Harry’s aura – like a shadow of his true self disappear. Ron
distracted her when he nudged her to move along.

“No. Get it together- you’ve gone absolutely nutter,” he sad. “We’re here to party, not to go
mental on visions…” Ron gave her a look. “Harry- what the bloody hell mate? Wait up!” He
raced up the last flight of stairs and followed him around the corner in the hall, pulling
Hermione along by her hand. They entered his little dormitory- and Hermione froze on spot.
The first thing she saw was a pair of long shapely legs disappearing underneath a very short
skirt. The woman was bent over at the waist as she dug deep into the fridge of the tiny
kitchenette. Ron was dumbstruck to say the least.

“Ooh- Harry vere is zat last butterbeer?! I kept it ‘ere last night, even put my name on it!’
she grumbled to the general vicinity of the bathroom door.

“Fleur?” Ron gulped. She stood up straight, utterly surprised to see the two of them
standing there, and smiled a little smile as she saw their hands still interconnected. Smiling,
she welcomed them as if she owned the place. Ron could not take his eyes off of her.
Obviously she was already dressed for the party. She was wearing a backless glittering top,
her blonde hair falling in bouncy curls around her face and that short skirt was definitely a
killer piece of apparel. A dainty pair of heels further augmented her ridiculously long legs,
and Ron had to check himself when she caught him staring at her teasing neckline.

“ ‘Ello Ello! Come in come in- ‘ave a seat!” she offered, but to her chagrin, the only ‘seats’
present were Harry’s bed, and the chair at his study desk, which was completely covered
with a couple of jeans, a tactical vest, and a shirt that suspiciously looked as if someone
had spilt some alcohol on it. Hermione took in everything at once, the quills, the new pair of
shoes poking out underneath his bed, his firebolt mounted on some hooks high up on the
wall above a poster of Genevieve (a witch pop star) that she knew once belonged to
Seamus. Two odd sides of socks and some dirty laundry was at the bottom of a clothes
hamper in the corner, alongside his trusty Horntail boots. There were few empty bottles of
Fire whisky and some Coca Cola tins on the little breakfast table in the center of the
kitchenette, complete with two empty boxes of delivery food. She noted that it was two
boxes, and not one. It was a typical male pigsty, but what had her peeved was Fleur’s
obvious familiarity with this room. She folded her arms defensively.

“Harry?” she said imperiusly.

“Yes, dear?” he called back from the bathroom.

“What is she doing here?” she asked suspiciously.

“Who?”

“Fleur!”

“Er- I think she mentioned something about a butterbeer?” he said offhandedly. “Oh- and
Fleur, if you really are there- take out that shirt for me- y’know, the one I like-“ he shouted
back as he turned on the shower. Hermione blanched- didn’t he even close his bathroom
door fully when she was in his room?

“ “Arry- you spilt ze firewhiskey on it last night remember? Also- you ‘aven’t washed it as
yet as I recall refining you to do-“ Fleur responded, eyeing the soiled shirt on the back of
the chair.

“Reminding,” Harry corrected. “Right you are- well the other one then, check in the second
shelf-” Harry said. Hermione was watching Fleur, envy burning in her eyes. She was about
to strangle her any minute now.

“Iz on the first shelf, Harry! That’s where shirts go, remember? Oh, and I made somezing to
eat when you come out, eef you are ‘ungry-” Fleur tut-tutted and took out a snazzy looking
dark blue shirt, inspecting it for any signs of disrepute. Seeing none, she laid it out on his
bed for him to use. Hermione didn’t know the feeling that was coming over her- it felt as if
she were a guest in a stranger’s house, and his wife was preparing for him to go out. The
sad thing is, she was technically his wife, and this, this …french floozy was just some other
woman-

“Harry! Did you go and pick them up- “ Cho burst into the room, also already dressed for
the party. “Oh! Hi Hermione! Ron- oh my god- it’s been so long!” she scooted over and
hugged him about the waist. “Delacour- has he changed s yet? That’s him taking a bath
right now right? Did you tell him that he’s out of shampoo?”

Hermione just stared. How did they know he’s out of shampoo? What was going on between
them?

“Oui, I told ‘im. But he refuses to remember anything zese days-“

“Harry!” Cho shouted through the doorway. “I got the shampoo- I’m coming in!”

“Sure,” he shouted. “ Just hand it over the curtain will ya?” Before Cho got a chance to
open the door, Hermione politely stopped her.

“I’ll do it, thank you,” she said stiffly. It finally dawned on Cho that she was offering to go
inside his bathroom while Harry was bathing; right in front of his woman. She blushed and
immediately gave it to her. Hermione spun on her heel, opened the door and slammed it
shut behind her.

“Who’s that?” came a voice from behind the shower curtain. Steam was rising up from the
stall and Hermione could smell the scent of soap.

“It’s me, your girlfriend…?” Hermione gritted between teeth.

“Oh-okay- you have the shampoo? I always keep forgetting to pick it up at the store- hand
it here-“ he stuck out his arm around the curtain. Hermione grabbed a handful, and
whipped the whole shower curtain back. Harry froze, his eyes closed to prevent soap
getting in his eyes. “What?” he asked irritably.

“Oh no you don’t mister- “ she scolded. “Fleur acts like she lives here, while Cho is out
getting your groceries? What in bloody hell is going on?” Harry rinsed his eyes with water.

“Uh- Hermione? They’re friends. They look out for me from time to time. It’s nothing to
worry about,” he said simply. Hermione shot daggers through her eyes, but she couldn’t
stay mad at him for long. His long hair was plastered to his face, and even though he was
still on the skinny side, he had definitely added definition to the little muscle that he had,
making him look leaner, and tougher. “If you’re going to be inside her, you might as well
join me,” he offered with a smile.

“Join you?” What was he thinking? There were people in the next room!

“Yeah. Take off your clothes, let down your hair, and join me.”

“Harry- our friends are right outside!” she admonished him.

“Easily remedied." He threw his voice out the door, "Er- CHO! Didn’t you want to show Ron
your little flat? Maybe the three of you could head over to your place. I‘ll meet you at
Viktor’s in a hour !”

“Kicking us out mate?” Ron exclaimed before being muffled by Cho’s palm. Cho manhandled
him out the door. Fleur followed soon after.

“We’ll see you two lovebirds then!” Cho replied. There was a satisfying click of the door
being closed, and all that was left was the sound of the shower spray.

“See? Come here-“ he ordered softly.

Hermione bit her lip, she didn’t know what it was- but she could be angry as hell at him one
second, the next all she wanted to do was be close to him. Against her better judgment,
she began to take off her Hogwarts uniform. Harry grinned wolfishly- and made space for
her in his little bathroom stall. Hermione looked into his eyes- how could he have changed
so much? From a nervous little boy without a clue- to a confident young man who through
circumstance became one of the most powerful wizards on the planet- well according to
Dumbledore and Lionheart.

And to top it all, she loved him with all of her heart, yet with each passing day, he felt more
and more distant to her. But underneath all the cockiness and his faults, she knew Harry
was the one for her, and there can be no one else. So when they embraced skin to skin
under the shower, she sighed and lay her head on his shoulder, slowly rubbing his back
under her hands. She traced the huge scar of the hunter’s slash up his back, and felt her
emotions run even deeper. Right at this moment she was contented, and it was all worth it.
Even though he did not know it, just by being here her boyfriend had made good on his
promise. Just holding him was enough. All the days that he made her sad faded to the back
of her mind, and all she could think of was this precise moment.

Raising her face up to him, she kissed him tenderly. “ Harry…I’ve missed you so much- it
hurts. I- I- love you..okay?”

“I know,” he replied, and kissed her again. She closed her eyes, and let his lips trail down
the side of her water soaked face- and rest against the pulse of her neck. Tilting her head to
the side, she gave him easier access, all the while threading her fingers through his thick
hair. She felt the faint hairs of his beard graze her throat and his hands wrapped around
her, one resting in the middle of her back, the other possessively caressing her backside.
“Hermione…” he breathed against her, once again tasting her skin. Hermione closed her
eyes as sensations engulfed her, pressed against each other ,her temperature soaring. He
was soapy and wet, and Hermione once again ran her hands up his back and over his
shoulders. How could she ever have doubts about coming to see him? He was her drug, and
for him, she would do anything. Anything.

Before she even realized what was happening, his hands were caressing the back of her
thighs, and with a fluid motion he lifted her up, jamming her against the cool bathroom tile.
Hermione’s eyes closed with that glorious sensation, and moaned softly under her breath.
Harry’s whole body tensed, and she could feel his muscles working in tandem as they made
love. She locked her ankles behind him, and held on for dear life.

Her eyelids closed, and her lips parted, her breath coming in gentle puffs on his face.
Knowing that she was safe in his arms, she let go of all her self doubts and fears. Her
confidence in him fuelled Harry, and he whispered sweet nothings lovingly into her ear as
the warm water cascaded on them.

“Ohh- yes…” she moaned, pulling her bottom lip down with her index finger, looking up at
him through her hair which was plastered down her face. Their eyes locked, and Hermione
smiled seductively at him. Harry had never seen that expression before- that expression of
being totally dominated, and loving every moment of it. The tendons in Harry’s neck and
shoulders were visibly pronounced, and Hermione slid her hand over his chest and took a
firm hold of his shoulder. Hermione's short nails were digging in his back mercilessly, and
his skin was beginning to smart with the intense pressure as they made love.

Their lips locked at the precise moment as her sexual release culminated with his own. He
leant against her heavily, his body squeezing her against the tiles. Harry felt her smooth
thighs slide down from around his legs, and the tenseness in his back ebb away.

They looked into each other’s eyes, knowing that no matter what happened, they were each
other's first true love. It was a bond that Harry knew he would never forget- and would
treasure till the end of his days. In the afterglow of their passionate session in the shower,
they just stood under the water, their arms wrapped around each other in the afterglow.

“Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“Do we still have to go the party?“ she asked with a soft laugh. Right now, she was in
heaven.

“Now, that is the question isn’t it?“ he replied, laughter in his eyes. “Er- I think its best if we
at least made an appearance,” he stepped back, and felt a slight spasm in his back. He
grinned at the niggling pain- it still did not register that was the most intense it had ever
been. “You know- I’ve always wanted to do this-“ he began, and stretched behind her,
taking the soap from the wall. She looked at him, confusion written in her face. Without
warning, Harry began to bathe her, his hands exploring every curve and niche of her body.
It was done almost reverently, his eyes taking in every detail. Hermione did not know what
to say- all she knew that she loved this man with all her heart, and would never leave him.

************

“A bit late, aren’t they?”

It was nearly eleven o’clock, nearly two hours later than Harry said they would arrive. He
thought his brothers could throw a party, but next to Krum- their parties felt like a tea
party. At the moment, Ron and his girlfriend was propped up against the bar, Cho’s
backside nestled firmly on him as they rocked slowly to the music, both with drinks in their
hands. Ron peered over the congested crowd. Krum himself was still surly and duck footed-
but when he did have a bashment- he was completely different. The place was packed, and
the amount of skin on display was enough for Cho to elbow him a couple times well in case
his eye wandered too far.

“Harry’s been like that quite a lot lately. He never shows up on time, except for Quidditch
and Ferdninand’s class. Says he can’t afford to cause any more trouble with him…”

“Won’t you look at that!” Ron exclaimed. “Blimey, Fleur is all over that Draco person- and
he’s enjoying himself to say the least.” Ron frowned as he say Delacour tiptoe to whisper
something in his hear, and watched with a sick fascination as the young man broke into a
slow smile. As if a light bulb had just been switched on- memories of Draco from Hogwarts
began to pop back into his head. Realizing for the first time who he really was and the
connections to their past, he froze still.

“Cho! Holy fuck! I remember him now! That’s why Harry was so apprehensive during the
holidays! Those two were sworn nemesis, rivals since day one! He’s the one who did in
Moody!”

“Who are you talking about?” Cho asked immediately, looking at the couple in the corner.
”Draco?”

“Yes! Does Fleur know how dangerous he really is?”

“Yeah- she does.” a familiar voice shouted over the blaring music from right next to them.
“Completely a basket case when it comes to Malfoy isn’t she?” Cho and Ron spun about,
Ron looking at Hermione in a peculiar manner. I could say the same about you...Hermione..
“Harry! Finally! I thought you weren’t going to show up!” Ron exclaimed, looking at both
Harry and Hermione. “How come I didn’t see you come in?”

“Invisibility cloak- didn’t want to make a scene,” Harry shrugged, indicating the little purse
Hermione had. “I shrunk it just now. Smashing party isn’t it?” he announced, his arm
around his woman’s waist. Hermione was looking a bit nervous- fidgeting on the spot as she
saw some of the outfits and behaviour of a few of the girls there. It wasn’t even midnight
and the craziness had already started. She smiled up at both of them, and Cho’s and her
eyes connected. Cho immediately deduced what just happened, and Hermione blushed
furiously. “Well, I guess we have to make up for lost time don’t we?” He bent low and said
in Hermione’s ear- “What do you want to drink?”

“Just a soda, thanks,” she replied. Harry tut-tutted, but obliged her as he turned to the bar.
“A ‘beer and a soda,” he said to the pretty bartender. She nodded, then froze as she
reached for the drinks. Her eyes widened, and recognition dawned on her face.

“Oh my GOD! You’re Harry- Harry Potter!”

Harry smiled, but it was a strained one. “Yeah, er- that’s me,” he admitted almost
reluctantly. The bartender eyed him up and down, then the girl standing next to him.
Hermione was still facing the crowd, but Harry could tell that the bargirl was mentally
sliding a knife between her ribs. Hermione was in all white tonight, a simple form fitting top
with two delicate straps running over her shoulder- and a skintight white jeans. The girl
looked away from her, and returned her attention back to Harry, a smile on her face.

“Hi! I’m Jinelle!” she said, offering her hand. Harry took it, and smiled.

“Nice to meet you Jinelle,” he grinned.

She leant in closer and held his neck close so she could whisper in his ear, “I’m just doing a
little favour for Viktor tonite, I’m manning the bar until midnight- come by and see me later
over there,” she pointed across the pub at the opposite corner- “that’s where my friends
are.”

“Uh- okay,” Harry said hesitantly. The girl produced the drinks, and Harry turned back to
his girlfriend. “Here you are-“

“Who is she?” Hermione asked immediately.

“Jinelle,” he replied.

“Another friend of yours?”

“No, I just met her…” he said innocently.

“Oh,” she sniffed. Folding her arms across her chest, she took a sip of her drink. Harry
sighed. He scanned the crowd, and diligently began to drain his drink.

************

Kenna Rossilini was at Draco’s side, almost completely unrecognizable. She had charmed
her hair so that it was jet black, and had a stylish pair of light blue shades on. Her eyes
focused on the two on the opposite side of the party. Finally! She thought that they would
never come! Her plan was in motion, but she had to be patient. Her prey was none other
than Harry Potter, and from the glances and looks some of the girls here were giving him,
she wasn’t the only one who wanted to get in his pants.

“Draco,” she said, touching his hand. She smiled, obviously this Fleur person was making a
bit of headway. Her arms lay on his shoulders, and she was rotating her hips suggestively
against him. Other than the fact that Draco once or twice said something in her ear, it did
not even seem that he realized there was a very pretty girl dancing up on him. His eyes
were focused on the trio across the room. He bent low to hear what his sister had to say.

“Look-“ she pointed.

“Yeah, I see them.”

“Let’s go and say hi!” she said.

“In a moment,” Draco said, once again scanning the crowd. He was keeping an eye out for
some dodgy individuals, one of them being his squad captain, Ryan Mulciber. As far as he
knew, Krum and Mulciber were close friends. Why wasn’t he here as yet? Kenna nodded,
and told Fleur the same thing. The two girls liked each other on first introduction, even
though the age difference was nearly five years. Fleur was almost twenty-one, while Kenna
was sixteen.

“Doesn’t your brother like to dance?” Fleur asked jokingly. Kenna laughed. Turning around
so that her backside nestled against him the two girls began to talk. Draco just allowed her
to grind against him, a drink in his hand, his eyes narrowed on the girl in white. His gut
instinct was telling him that Potter should not have brought his woman here. It was not
safe.

************

As the night went on, more alcohol flowed, and Ron, Harry and Hermione were beginning to
loosen up some more. Hermione was smiling and laughing a lot, and Ron had his two top
buttons unloosed, his long sleeved shirt rolled up to the elbow. The two couples had
switched partners for a couple of dances, and Hermione no longer felt threatened by the
other girls in the party. Harry was a guy being a guy, and she was just a bit over paranoid.
Right now the Dj was playing some dancehall, the slow pounding rhythm making them
dance more suggestively. Hermione watched on as a couple of the girls in the center bent
over at the waist and grinded against their respective boyfriends. At the moment Cho was
dancing with Harry, who she had never seen so relaxed and ..well…happy. She frowned,
was that his eight drink? She had lost count after her own senses dulled after the third
drink. Drinking was not on her preferred things to do, but Ron and Harry had conned her
into the first two. The third one she had taken voluntarily. In fact- she needed to pee.

Hermione walked off, only to be pulled short by Ron. “Where are you going?”

“The bathroom- back in a second,” she said.

“Allright- I’ll tell Harry…”

Hermione stalked through the crowd, crossing the packed room to get to the bathrooms.
Another girl stopped her, this time a girl that looked vaguely familiar.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hello?” Hermione said uncertainly.

“When you go back over there, tell Harry Jinelle says to come and check her, okay?” the
other girl said blatantly. Hermione’s face immediately soured.

“Sure,” she lied. She’d be damned if she let this skank get anywhere near him. Continuing
on, she grumbled under her breath. Was she always like this? This- possessive? She pushed
open the door, and went inside the ladies’ room. Afterwards, as she peered into the mirror
to reapply a bit of her lipstick, her head began to swim. Feeling woozy, she leant heavily
against the counter. She knew her limits, and three drinks were not it. Her vision blurred.
This ..was not..normal alcohol…

The door opened behind her, and a young girl with shades entered, a smug grin on her
face.

“Hello, Hermione,” said a thick Italian accent. The dark haired girl took off her shades,
smiling proudly.

“You!” she managed to croak before she fainted.

************

Harry was on his twelfth or, maybe sixteenth drink – he wasn’t too sure which one. Some
anonymous girl was dancing on him, telling him all the things she would do to him if she got
the chance. Ron and Cho were in a corner, making out in the darkness. This girl was
vaguely familiar- he thought she was in his Medical class, or was it the other branch
subject- Flora and Fauna class?

Hermione came back walking through the crowd, and watched the pair. With only a look,
the other girl let go of Harry and went away. Hermione immediately took her place, and
wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Where whe- you went off to?” Harry slurred.

“The bathroom,” her voice returned, although sounding a bit different. Harry thought it was
own bad head making it sound strange. Her pelvis nestled flush against him, and she began
to move slowly in time with the music, her intentions obvious. Harry smiled, and held unto
the curve of her hips. He rocked back on the bar, and lether dance against him, her lips
slightly parted as she listened to dancehall artist Patra claim that she was “Queen of the
Pack”.

“Hermione, you learn quickly- “ he noted, watching her obvious improvement in her wining
skills. “Hey, cool shades,” Harry said, taking them from the top of head and putting them
on. He now felt ‘cool’ (even though he looked completely ridiculous)

“You’re a good teacher,” she said huskily, her lips brushing his ear. Something clicked, that
felt like how Kenna used to whisper to him. He pushed back that notion to the back of his
head, and continued to dance with her, even more uncoordinated under the influence of
alcohol. He couldn’t dance very well in the first place, and he definitely wasn’t a good
teacher. Whatever. She planted a soft kiss at the base of his throat, and his temperature
skyrocketed. Her lips met his in a deep kiss, and his mind was immediately blanked of
anything else except her. Hermione smiled wickedly at him, and took his hand and led him
to a more secluded corner. Her hands lifted the edge of his shirt, and began to caress his
bare skin underneath, her arms around his waist. They kissed again, and Kenna felt all of
his magic potential infuse her peculiar talent, amplifying it almost double fold.

“Let’s get out of here-“ she said softly, her breath mint fresh.

“Okay-“ he agreed. As he led her out, something came to him- Hermione’s breath was
smelling of alcohol. Oh well, maybe she brushed her teeth in the bathroom-

“Potter!” a voice called him. He turned.

“Draco. What do you want?” he said irritably. He was going to have sex now, dammit.
Hermione shifted uncomfortably.

“Er-, have you..er-“ Draco looked uneasy. Harry’s expression soured.

“Out with it!”

“Haveyouseenmysister?” Draco asked quickly, his face tinted with worry. Harry never saw
Draco like this- was he actually caring for someone else?

“Kenna? She’s here?” Harry said surprisingly.

“Her hair is dyed black, that’s why you may not recognize her. Actually, I think she was
right under your nose and you didn’t notice her. I doubt she was pleased.”

Harry stumbled, and leant heavily on Hermione. She grunted.

“Drunk, Potter?”

“No,” Harry slurred. “If I see her, I’ll tell you-“ Harry idly caressed Hermione’s backside.
Draco looked almost offended.

“I knew you love to strut, but don’t do that in front of me,” Draco ordered.

“Well get out of my face then,” Harry countered, letting Hermione go and getting all in his
personal space. “Don’t go telling me what to do!’ Harry swayed with that last, losing any
sort of venom behind those words. Draco smirked. He pushed Harry’s forehead with his
index finger, and if it weren’t for Hermione steadying him, he would have fallen flat on his
back.

“Granger, get this drunkard home and make sure he doesn’t do something stupid, like get
into a fight. Especially not with me.”

“Okay Draco,” she replied instantly. Draco walked off, and as he was entering the pub, he
caught unto something that just happened. Did Granger just obey him and called him
“Draco”?
**************

“There he is,” Mulciber said. Three of his old mates from Durmstrang were with him, all of
them on top of the building opposite the pub. “He’s drunk, which should make our job
easier. Do not hurt the woman. Let’s go.”

Harry and Kenna stumbled along the open field between the Pub and his dorms, her arm
around his waist. She was struggling to control him, this man was strong! Harry was telling
her all sorts of nonsense, and Kenna frowned at the situation she got herself in. She did not
want it to be like this- he was completely drunk. But on the other hand, she did now a spell
that could be used in conjunction with with fresh squeezed juice that could sober him up at
his place. Hopefully he could make it that far- she did not know where it is.

“Hermione- this is a beautiful night isn’t it? I think I could spend the –whole- whole night…
just staring up. Stars…”

Kenna looked up- it was indeed a beautiful night. Harry suddenly plopped down on the
ground, and laid back in the dewy grass, his arms splayed wide. “Harry!’ she said. He
grinned, and pulled her down on top of him, and kissed her. His hands were everywhere,
and Kenna allowed him to do as he wished. His hands came up underneath her top, and
caressed her. Rolling over so that he was on top, he began to fondle her while kissing her
down his neck.

Slowly, as if a voice was echoing from a distance far away- a warning went off in his head.

… You

Harry continued his drunken fondling-

are under

Kenna screamed as four men gradually appeared out of a dark mist. Harry moved in
relative slow motion. He tried to react, pushing up on his arms- Only to be dealt a heavy
kick in his ribs.

attack!

Harry doubled over from the pain, coughing hard as the other three materialized out of the
mist. What the fuck?! He almost didn’t see the next blow coming, aimed directly at his face.
He ducked reflexively, but was not fast enough. The dragon hide boot caught him flush at
the back of his head. He pitched forward, and landed face first in the grass. Kenna
screamed hysterically, until one fo the others did the only thing that came to his mind and
backhanded her viciously. He pounced on her, placing his knee on her sternum, a forearm
against her neck, the other hand covering her mouth.

“Shut up. You hear me?” he said dangerously.

“You could kick the shit out of Potter all you want. Doesn’t matter to me,” a voice said lazily
behind them. All four men spun around. Draco Malfoy was walking towards them lazily, his
hands in his pockets.

“Better get out of here, fast. You’re making a bad move-“ Mulciber said from behind the
scarf that covered his nose and mouth.
“But, once you touch my family- we have a very serious problem,” Draco growled, his
expression livid. “Let her go. Or else you will be first.”

“What the fuck am I hearing?” the thug asked incredulously. Just to prove a point, he
increased the pressure on her neck. In a flash Draco sped off the ground, a trail of fire in
his wake. There was a blur of robes, then a sickening crack as he connected with the one
holding down his sister. Her assailant flew some metres across from the crushing impact,
and rolled about four times before he came to a halt, clearly unconscious, or dead, Harry
didn’t know which. What he did know that Draco called Hermione his family, and that
couldn’t be... Unless?

”Kenna?” he croaked. She turned, and nodded, tears running down her face. He groaned,
and tried to curse his stupidity, but coughed instead. He gingerly felt his side- one of his
ribs were defintely broken. Suddenly, Harry felt his eyes beginning to burn with the
Infernus. He looked up, and Draco was hovering three feet above the ground, his eyes on
fire. Oh shit- this was bad…

Draco smiled evilly. He was itching for a fight a while now. “This is it for you. Your lives are
mine.”

**********

Lestrange was peering through his crystal ball, monitoring the events as they played out.
Karakaroff did well, hexing his student with the Omnispell. Now he could easily see Potter’s
level of strength. Instead, he has now learnt of the whereabouts of the Elemental.
Something was perplexing him- something about the aura, the stance, the attitude,
something about the boy was very familiar. He amplified the audio on his crystal ball.
”Sonorous,” he incanted, pointing his wand.

This is it for you. Your lives are mine.

“Macnair! Come quickly! I want you to hear this!” he shouted. Macnair apparated the short
distance from the room upstairs.

“What is it?” he said. Rodulphus played back the voice- the tone ...the inflection, there was
no doubt about it.“No- it can’t be-“

“Ah, but indeed it is my friend. Our late master has planned for all contingencies, even his
death. The Lord Voldemort lives on through the boy. We must pay him homage,” he
grinned. Macnair peered at the boy in the crystal ball. Now he knew why he devoted his life
to the Dark Lord. Even after his death, his master was a genius.

**********

Author’s note- Whew- halfway through! That didn't take so long did it? The fic is coming
along- no fear- I’m going to try and post in bigger groups of chapters, so hold on to your
hats- I have not abandoned this story! Big shout out to Electric Aurora! peace!
Chapter 10: Duel to the Death!
[View Online]  [Printer Friendly Version of This Chapter]

**CHAPTER 10: Duel to the Death!**

Oh no…

Harry was still kneeling on all fours, trying to force oxygen into his lungs. No matter what,
he couldn’t allow Draco to lose it and mindlessly murder these guys. It was part of his duty
towards the Order to monitor his actions. Closing his eyes, he decided that he will use that
new spell he learnt the other day.

“He …what the...he could fly?!” one of Mulciber’s men drew his wand, and pointed it directly
at Draco. Draco did no even glance in his direction. He had eyes only for the man who stood
in the center of his two comrades, hovering menacingly over the girl who was crying on the
ground. He was wearing a bulky robe- obviously he had some sort of armour underneath,
and a thick blood red scarf was wrapped around the lower half of his face, revealing only a
pair of eyes. Was it a death eater? No- couldn’t be. They never revealed their identities, or
showed any form uniformity that linked them to a group other than Voldemort.

“So what? Kill him! Avada- ”

Harry’s eyes whipped up. Draco’s lips moved in a whispered incantation, and the thug’s
wand instantly burst into flames.

“AAAAH!” he screamed. “Oh fuck! My HAND!” he fell on the ground, desperately hitting it
with his robe to put out the flames. The last flunky looked at his comrade, then the blond
boy hovering ominously above them, and paled visibly underneath his hood. He dropped his
wand instantly, fearing the same would happen to him. Draco barely paid them any
attention, his eyes never leaving the leader. “Help! The flames won’t out! Gravis! My hand!”
the maimed man screamed again, holding his wrist in agony as the flames kept re-igniting
on his arm.

“Oh for heavens sake- Gravis, get him out of here…I can’t stand weaklings. If Morrigan is
alive, I will see about him,” Mulciber said irritably. He looked at the body crumpled in a
heap some distance away. “Waste of my time.” He turned his back on Draco and pushed his
frozen mate into action. Obviously, Gravis was too petrified to move on his own. He waved
his wand, and a dark mist enveloped his two comrades, and they vanished into the night.
Draco let them leave.

“Cocky, aren’t you?” Draco Malfoy said from a few feet in the air. If he got him talking a bit
more, maybe he’ll find out the reason behind this little skirmish between him and Potter.
For some reason, he could sense this man was…different…

“This is embarrassing to say the least,” Mucliber grumbled, indicating his pathetic
comrades. He would have to severe all ties with them. Worthless.

Draco grinned. “And you aren’t an embarrassment ? Kicking a man when he’s down- if you
wanted Potter, why didn’t you face him head on?” Draco asked politely. Mulciber glared at
him floating all high and mighty, and quickly formulated his plan.
“Enough talk!” Mulciber said. He flicked his hand, and two small orbs fell underneath Draco.
Draco raised an eyebrow-

“Impedimentia!” Mulciber screamed, and Draco took the brunt of the stopping spell to the
chest. He was thrown back forcefully- hitting the ground like a ton of bricks. The fire
surrounding his wrists extinguished, and Draco reeled back, the pain shooting up from his
spine, coursing through his body in waves. Now that was new. How the fuck did he get
caught with that? Without another thought he got back up to his feet, breathing hard. Draco
frowned as he looked across to his right. Potter was still in the same position, clutching his
side, moaning like a spoilt child.

“Who are you?” Draco bellowed, his face incredulous. No wand technique, no hand
movements, nothing to indicate that he performed a spell other than the words from his
mouth. Where the hell did that hex come from? He kicked himself mentally. That was no
excuse for being careless. What were they trying to drill into him in every lesson at
Lionheart? ‘Never underestimate your opponent.’ First rule of the elite.

“Doesn’t matter- know that I have no grudge against you Malfoy. You determined your own
fate- Crucio!”

This time Draco was prepared, and propelled himself high into the air, avoiding the curse.
As he reached a respectable height, he suddenly convulsed, feeling his muscles cramp with
pain. His Infernus Ability shut down from the direct attack to his nervous system, rendering
him momentarily powerless. As he fell to the earth, he cursed. Even thought it was now too
late- he recognized those two capsules. He now remembered how this was possible: they
were Augmentation Orbs- devices used to channel magic in all directions, responding only
to the intensity of the magic spell in their owner’s voice. It cancelled the need for accuracy,
but also had its drawbacks. There was a limited range, and was no good against multiple
opponents. Paralyzed, he tried to brace himself as he fell from the sky. Silently, he fell hard
unto the ground, definitely breaking some bones as he collided with the unforgiving earth.

Thud!

Fighting through the pain as he lay motionless, he analyzed his predicament. How could this
have happened? Only two spells- and he was out of it- defeated at the hands of this
mysterious wizard. Still in shock- trying to think in between the waves of red and black
flashes, Draco knew that he was going to die. Elbow and right forearm broken, dislocated
shoulder and severe whiplash to the neck. Severely damaged rib cage on his right side
along with maybe a broken hip. He felt as if half of his body had suddenly gone numb- and
the other half was screaming in agony. The Cruciatus never hurt like this- this pain was
multiplied by real damage. His opponent laughed, mocking him in his victory.

”What goes up, must come down- has no one ever told you that?” Mulciber sauntered over,
and looked into his face. Draco eyes closed slowly - now he was blacking out. He couldn’t
believe it- here he was, beaten so easily. Mulciber turned his back on him and strode over
to Potter, who was unnaturally repeating his moaning and groaning actions.

“Don’t- turn…your b- back on ME!” Before Draco succumbed to the pain and blacked out, he
screamed a defiant Infernus Summon, “INCIENDO AR CHARISTAR!”

Immediately, Mucliber was totally engulfed in flames, but surprisingly, he laughed once
again. Calmly digging into his robe he pulled out a potions flask. Before Draco’s very own
eyes, his flames ebbed away from Mulciber, leaving him unscathed, his robes not with even
a speck of dust on them.

Who the fuck is he?

“You depend too highly on your natural gift,” Mucliber said nonchalantly. “Of course I
planned for this scenario. Waving your little finger-tip flames during class to goad
Potter….that was rich. I know both of you possess the Infernus, so I spent nearly a whole
year devising a prototype potion to counter Elemental fire. It seems that my project has
worked magnificently,” Mulciber chuckled. “Good effort, Malfoy. I’ll drink some more just in
case Potter here is stupid enough to try something similar. I’ll deal with you in a second.”

“Y-You’re…Mul..Mulciber-”

“At your service,” Ryan Mulciber gave Draco a mock bow, and with that, Draco passed out .
Mulciber walked over to Harry and with a negligible kick, he turned him flat on his back. He
frowned at Harry’s pathetic wheezing.

“Are you the same person? Do you lay at my feet without even putting up a fight?” Mulciber
said scornfully. “Oh well- makes it so much easier.” He drew his wand.

*************

“Hey, where did the others go?” Ron asked Cho as they came back from their little snogging
session.

“I hic don’t know…”

“Hmm…maybe you should check the girls’ bathrooms, and I’ll check the boys’,” said Ron.

“Right,” Cho answered, then hiccupped again. Ron marched his way across the crowd, and
was about to enter the men’s bathrooms when someone pulled him short.

“ ‘Ave you seen Draco? Or little Kenna?” Fleur asked him. Ron jumped in a delayed drunk
reaction. Where did she come from?

“No.” Something clicked. “Kenna? Kenna Rossilini?” Ron asked incredulously. “She’s here?”

“ Oui, did you not see her? She was right next to you talking to ze bartender guy- I zink she
bought you guys a rounds of drinks, non? Don’t you remember?”

“Kenna- Rossilini- bought- us, who she absolutely hates, a round of drinks?!” Ron
exclaimed. Without another word he dashed into the men’s’ room. Fleur followed him,
wanting to know what was going on. “Harry? Harry?!” he shouted, ducking low to see if
there were anyone in the stalls. The bathroom was empty except for them. “Shit- she’s one
sly individual if I ever met one-“ Ron explained, dashing back out into the party. Fleur
grabbed his hand as he hauled off into the crowd, looking for him.

“What do you mean? She seems nice!” Fleur retorted. Kenna was a new friend of hers, and
she wouldn’t have Ron spouting bad things about her. Ron didn’t care whose drink he
spilled, or whose boots he stepped on, he had to look out for Hermione and Harry. Within
seconds, Cho ran straight back out to him.
“RON! Look- I found this!” she screamed, showing him what she had in her hands. Ron
paled. In her right, was an empty vial marked with a “H”. He recognized it immediately- it
had contained Hermione’s polyjuice potion. In her left hand was Kenna’s little outfit and a
shimmering cloth. Ron instinctively knew what that was- Harry’s invisibility cloak. “And
look,” Cho said, pulling out Hermione’s purse from underneath it. She looked at the girl
holding his hand in a tight grip, only now realizing that Ron had someone in tow. “Delacour!
Do you know where Hermione and Harry are?”

“Where did you find zat?” Fleur asked her, eyeing the flask suspiciously. “Kenna said
something about ze contents of that bottle making her dreams come true-“

“WHAT?!” Ron shouted in the middle of the dance floor. Everyone looked at him strangely.
He made his way to the ladies bathroom- the two girls following him quickly. He barged in
the door and immediately took in his surroundings. The first thing he noticed was the open
lipstick on the counter. He picked it up, and inspected it: same colour as Hermione's. His
eyes narrowed as spotted a fishy looking puddle of liquid. He bent low, looking at it closely.
It was definitely vomit- and he sure knew what that smelt like. Fred and George made him
test too many puking pastilles to count.

“Well, Kenna has polymorphed into Hermione, that’s for sure, you’re holding her clothes.
She then searched her purse, found the invisibility cloak, and cancelled the shrinking spell.
Most likely she covered Hermione with it right here in the bathroom.” He pointed at the
corner. “She obviously wasn’t feeling well, and threw up sometime later.” He indicated the
little puddle of vomit. “So we have the cloak, the bottle, the purse, Kenna’s clothes, but no
Hermione. Let’s go look for her at the dorm. Maybe she woke up and went to stop them.”

“Stop them from what?” Fleur asked suspiciously as they ran out the bathroom.

“Kenna wants Harry. Badly. She’ll stop at nothing, even go as far as impersonating his
girlfriend! Come on, hurry!” Ron ordered. They ran around the building and unto the large
field. Ron froze as he peered - there- on the other side- someone was falling from the sky.
“Stop!“ he ordered the girls.” What the bloody hell is that?” he whispered. There were some
people there- a girl in all white- a man… walking towards the fallen person-

Suddenly- the scene was highlighted in an eerie orange glow as the mystery figure instantly
caught on fire. It illuminated the entire field, and Ron could distinctively make out a girl in
white crying! That had to be Hermione- er- Kenna! So the other guy on the ground was
Harry! But who was the man on fire?

“Harry’s in trouble- lets go!” he cried, and the three of them drew their wands, running to
the fight. Ron watched in amazement as the flames subsided, and everything went dark
again. “Shh...quiet you guys- he hasn’t seen us yet. We could have the upper hand if we
sneak up-“

Without warning, a deep voice shouted and there was a brilliant flash of green magic.
“AVADA KEDAVRA!”

“Get down!” He ordered, grabbing the two girls as he dove to the ground. The green light
illuminated the mystery wizard as he brandished the wand, and Ron couldn’t believe it-

“NO…Jesus Christ NOOO!” he screamed. He jumped to his feet, not even caring that he was
rushing in blindly towards the dark wizard. That guy just did him in!
*************

That was far too easy.

Mulciber felt no satisfaction from killing Harry Potter. Where was this legendary power?
Where was this over hyped magic ability? Where the fuck was his goddamned spine? The
body crumpled lifeless to the ground, the young girl screaming even harder as she watched
the life drain out of him. “Oh shut up,” Mulciber said, and idly flicked his wand. “Stupefy!”

“Pathetic-“ he began, only to be distracted by a loud yell from behind him. He turned, and
raised an eyebrow as some tall youth charged down at him, his wand held out in front of
him. The fool. How is he even going to get close to hitting me if his wand keeps jumping
around like that? He shook his head in disdain. “Another weakling,” he sighed, pointing his
wand lazily at the earth in front of him. It began to ripple, then eventually stretch forward
into the running boy’s path.

“I’LL KILL YOU!” Ron screamed, his eyes full of hatred. Who was this guy? How could he
have killed my best mate so easily - “Whoa!” His next footstep disappeared into the ground
and he fell straight into it, sinking in the earth like quicksand. “What the?” Ron screamed,
struggling to get out. He began to slowly sink into the earth, his arms and legs caught in
the soil. His wand was already trapped, and he felt the grass now tickling his neck. Shit- if
he didn’t get out, he was going to suffocate!

“Yes, I’m sure.” Mucliber said evenly as he strolled across to him. He stooped low in front of
him. “ Ah. So you must be the infamous Ron Weasley. I heard of your exploits in the Daily
Prophet. Knight of the Magi huh?” Mulciber asked seriously. He looked at Ron’s predicament
and snickered. “What does that really mean nowadays? First the Elemental, then Potter,
and now you? Defeated all too easy, if I say so myself- AAACK!”

Ryan Mulciber was grabbed by the scruff of his neck, and thrown bodily some ten feet
away. Ron’s eyes bulged; no it couldn’t be- I just saw him die!

“Sorry about the scare mate, “ Harry slurred. “It’s harder to run in a straight line when
you’re completely pissed…fuck that kick hurt...” Harry rubbed the back of his head.

Mucliber scrambled to his feet- and then looked behind him at the corpse still on the
ground. Harry Potter’s corpse to be exact. He was dumbstruck. Did he not he just kill this
man? Unless…

“You used the Cloning spell?” Mulciber bellowed, his face incredulous. “When did- how
the !?”

Harry laid his palm flat on the ground in front of Ron, and muttered an incantation. “ Prior
incante reversium!” The quicksand spell was nullified, and Ron felt his body being slowly
pushed out the ground. Harry got to his feet a bit woozy- his head still spinning. He faced
the mysterious wizard.

“Simple. The instant Draco had your attention, I did it,” Harry said. He limped a bit closer,
holding his side. “I laid still, using the Disillusionment hex to camouflage into the grass.” He
waved his hand negligibly to the corpse on the ground. “Finite! What do you want to do? Kill
me?” Harry laughed. Suddenly, he stopped abruptly and his expression darkened. “You
better take a number and get in line, motherfucker.”
Mulciber laughed. “I knew you couldn’t be killed so easily. I expect nothing less from the
man who defeated Lord Voldemort.” Mulciber tilted his head in recognition of his enemy. He
steadied himself as he got to his feet, then spoke in a clear voice. “I challenge you to a
duel.”

Harry raised his eyebrows. An honorable sort? “You know who I am, yet you still challenge
me? I will give you only one chance to take back your words and surrender. What say you?”

“Never!” Mulciber retorted.

“Very well. I accept your challenge,” Harry said lightly. He pointed at his hidden face. “If
you go by the code of the duelist, you will first tell me your name.” Mulciber hesitated,
thinking about it for a second. Slowly, and purposefully, he unwrapped the scarf from his
face. Pulling back his hood, Harry’s brow creased in recognition.

“I am Ryan Mulciber, son of Gregoradis, brother of Roman, and nephew to Delenger, both
of who you murdered.”

“Mulciber?” Harry said. Neville was the one who fought the Dragonrider that time, not him.
“You’ve got the wrong man, I didn’t do it.”

“Lies!” Mulciber spat. “I know who you are! My brother and my uncle died by that weapon
of yours! Roman was skewered through the back the day of the mission against the
Hogwarts train! You killed him in a cowardly fashion. I know, I buried them personally…” His
voice grew harder, and he said in an accusatory voice. “Do you not even have the honour to
remember your victims?!”

At this Harry felt a surging anger rising within him. Straightening up, he opened his mouth
to speak, but the words that came out were not his own. "Many have fallen from my
blade. Our honour lies not with criminals. Your kin does not matter to us."

Ron froze- who the fuck was that speaking? “Harry?” Harry’s posture suddenly changed,
and Ron noticed the difference. A few moments ago Harry was standing straight, now he
was once again holding his side carefully, his balance wavering.

“You bastard!” Mulciber screamed. “AVADA KEDAVRA!” he shouted. Harry narrowly avoided
the green jet of magic, but Ron suddenly felt weak, his heart skipped a beat, and inevitably
his eyes closed. Harry looked back; the blast was nowhere close to him, yet Ron passed
out. Crap! He had to get Ron out of here. He dug in his pockets for his wand... Oh No! Wait-
he didn’t have it! Where was it? Oh shit! On the toilet tank in his dorm!

Oh well, guess I’ll just have to work a bit harder, that’s all… Harry inched back, and kicked
Ron’s head none to softly with his heel. “Ron! Wake up!”

Ron’s eyes opened groggily. “Mom? Izzat you?”

“I need you to get up and tell Cho and Fleur to get the authorities- go now!” he ordered.
Ron half stumbled, half scrambled and limped back to relative safety. Harry’s eyes never
left Mulciber’s, and Harry knew not to underestimate this man. He was ranked the best at
Durmstrang, which meant that he also had something special about him. After all,
something had to be extraordinary if Kingsley selected him as S.T.A.R. Elite trainee captain.
Harry had to admit, he was slightly impressed. Usually, Death eaters loved to keep the
offensive, but this man was analyzing him- and not attacking blindly. That Killing Curse was
more of a wild swing than a real attempt to finish this quickly. He must have realized that
conventional spells may work on Draco, but he wasn’t a Duelist like he was. Draco was
Sorcerer- class, and specialized in indirect curses and hexes. Harry grinned in anticipation.
His forte, on the other hand, was Dueling, Shields, and Spell casting. And recently, on the
side, he was branching out into the more subtle aspect of magic – Illusionary techniques.

Ryan Mulciber began to walk in a large arc, slowly circling Harry. Harry did likewise- the two
young men moved in tandem, each eyeing the other for a mistake. Harry knew this may be
close- he did not have his wand, and he only knew a few wandless magic spells.

Use my strength.

Harry shut his eyes, trying to once again force down that voice- and suddenly realized his
mistake. Mulciber had tricked him, and led him into the range of the Augmentation Orbs.
Before Harry could react to the two small objects at his feet, Mulciber had already begun his
incantation- using the Disengagement Hex. “Expellairmus ache disapparium!” Harry smiled,
this was a stroke of luck.

When nothing flew out of his hand, Mulciber swore. He did not have his wand- and I wasted
my one good chance of a sneak attack on him!

“Nice try-“ Harry said, and began to charge him head on. Racing towards him, he began the
hand movements needed for the Repulsion hex. With his right hand, he kept his index and
middle finger straight, and then curled his little finger and ring finger inwards. Completing
the spell, he clasped his right together with his left palm in a clapping motion.
“Everte Statum!”

“ Protego!” Mulciber put up his shield at the last possible moment. Harry was expecting
that, which is why he used the Repulsion hex instead of a direct curse. The spell hit the
shield, and Mulciber was thrown off balance as the strong force pushed against it- trying to
repel him from Harry’s charge. Without hesitation, Harry raced in on him, and tackled him
rugby style physically breaking through his shield. There was a sound of a plane of glass
shattering as Harry penetrated his defenses, catching him flush in the gut. Forcing him into
the ground, he took a fistful of hair in his left hand. In a fluent motion he sunk his right into
Mulciber face, then immediately afterwards connected him a paralyzing blow with his knee
into his side, knowing exactly where to hit for most damage. As he heard the satisfying
sound of a soft pop he knew he had gotten him back for his own broken rib.

There was a sound of laughter behind him, and Harry screamed as he felt the Cruciatus sear
through his back. How did –

“Never tell your secrets to the enemy, Potter. When you shut your eyes, I myself used the
Clone spell, and hid myself.” Mulciber was completely gloating now, his wand trained on
Harry’s back. Harry collapsed on top of Mulciber’s clone, pain racking through his body.
Even through it all, these bad guy types failed to realize that to really win, it is better to kill
first, then gloat after. Faking the scream more than warranted, he allowed Mulciber to come
closer. Resting his palm flat on the soft earth, he muttered a spell- “Prior Incantetem
Rescusitarius Incante!”

The ground below Mulciber’s feet reverted into quicksand, and Mulciber watched in horror
was his own Quicksand spell swallowed him, inevitably taking him deep into the earth.
Harry rolled over, panting hard. Mulciber’s eyes opened wide in panic, straining his neck to
keep his face above the unforgiving earth. Harry rolled over on his back, fighting off the
dizziness associated with the aftereffects of the Cruciatus Curse.

“Next time take your own advice, and don’t show me your secrets either.” As he watched
Mulciber’s sinking body twitch and strain against the sinking soil, a sick joy began to creep
up on him. Fascinating. It pleasured him to watch him die. After a few seconds had passed
in that trance state- Harry caught himself. What was he doing? His conscience took over
him, only to be quickly snuffed out once again by that strange voice.

…He should never have challenged us. As I said, our work is not done. One more dark
wizard that has been disposed of…

“NO!” Harry screamed, and raced over to the sand pit. “Prior Incante Reversium!” he cried,
placing his hands on the soil. "Prior Incante Reversium!"” he screamed again, tears
beginning to flow. The ground finally regurgitated Mulciber, but soil was already leaking out
of his nose, mouth and ears. It was too late- He was already dead. “No! Not again...” Harry
pounded his fist into the ground.

“…Even with wine, women and song in your blood, your talent is extraordinary. I have not
seen such a complete domination of a duel in a long while, Potter.” Harry stiffened, that
voice was vaguely familiar. He turned his head, and saw a lone figure standing behind
Draco’s still form, the unmistakable hood of a Death Eater covering his head. His back was
turned towards him, and from his stance, it was evident he was holding someone against
their will. “But I believe that his death should not go unpunished. An eye for an eye, I
believe?”

He turned slowly, and Harry’s blood ran cold. Hermione was held in his clutches, wearing
nothing but her underwear. Harry glanced at the still form of Kenna, it all made sense now-
she was wearing his girlfriend’s clothes. Two Hermiones! Jesus Christ, how could he have let
this happen?

“If you dare harm her-“ Harry warned him darkly, “I’ll….I’ll…” he trailed off. He couldn’t
willingly say it.

“You’ll do what?” the Death Eater taunted. Holding her firmly, he drew the tip of his wand
lightly down her cheek, drawing blood as it went. Harry began to see red as Hermione
whimpered in his grasp, squirming away from the edge of his wand. Using the tip of his
finger, he wiped the blood and sucked on it sadistically. .

“…Harry… don’t…” Hermione whispered, fear running through her body.

“Let her go. Now. “

“And why should I do that? She’s gorgeous, isn’t she?” he drawled appreciatively.

Harry’s memories raced back to the last time she was in the clutches of a Death Eater.
“HAH! POTTER! WON’T WANT TO HURT HER NOW WOULD WE? MY GOD, SHE’S GORGEOUS
ISN’T SHE? WE’LL MAKE SURE SHE BLEEDS!”

At this- Harry’s eyes began to burn fiercely, and all light disappeared. “What is this magic?”
Karkaroff said, looking around in amazement. What happened to the starlight? He peered
into the darkness, and began to cold sweat when he saw two slits of pulsing blue power
emanate from a pair of eyes. “Macnair…” Harry growled, his eyes murderous. “ I swear it on
my parents grave...I will KILL YOU!"

“Ooh, those are truly strong words, and quite an –ahem- impressive glare. But alas, you will
have to tell him when you see him,” Karkaroff laughed softly, then looked at the corpse of
Ryan Mulciber, sand leaking out of his mouth. His stomach churned. Another casualty
brought about by his cowardice. It ends tonight. He clenched Hermione even tighter, her
blood running freely down her face.

“I will avenge my student. One way or the other…”

***************

Chapter 11: The Grim

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**CHAPTER 11: The Grim**

**

“ Ron- aren’t we going to help them?” Cho screamed as they watched the Death Eater and
Harry face off. Ron was still feeling the after-effects of Mulciber’s near miss Avada Kedavra.
He was still out of breath and near faint from that powerful incantation.

“Harry said,” he took a second to steady himself- “Harry.. h-he said...call for help-
authorities-“ he panted.

“But what about helping ‘im now?” Fleur countered.

“Fleur, you’ve never seen Harry fight haven’t you? We’ll only be in his way…plus- that guy
took out Draco- and Draco took out both Dumbledore and Moody! I rushed in there and
nearly got myself killed! Twice! We’ll be slaughtered!”

Cho and Fleur paled. “Are you sure he’s going to be okay? Who are they?”

“Dunno- but we better get the professor- or whoever’s any good around here-“ Ron said, his
eyes dilated with adrenaline. He turned widely on the spot, as if a magical phone booth
would suddenly appear marked with ‘Need Dumbledore? Call here!’ Hope as he might, that
wasn’t going to happen. “Shit- I need to think up something!”

“Er- well..” Cho hesitated.

“What?” barked Ron.

“Most of the instructors here...kind of...er- scared of Harry,” She explained.

“Scared? Why?” Ron asked, totally confused.

“Because he blew up half the exam building in his test- it’s rumoured he could do the
Reducto Ultima curse-” Cho explained. Ron froze. Did he just hear what he thought he
heard? Images of Dumbledore trying his best to destroy Malfoy’s Meteor Summon last year
came to mind. The entire Order of the Phoenix were amazed at the intensity of
Dumbledore’s Ultimate Destruction spell. Harry could do that?
“Right now, he’s under probation. He’s not supposed to be out of his dorm…that’s why I
think he uses the invisibility cloak and the Clone technique to cover his tracks…“ Cho
continued.

“Well, we still have to tell someone! Where’s the nearest Floo fire?” Ron asked.

“Itz in ze main ‘all, all ze way on ze other side of campus- by the time we get there, it may
be too late…” Fleur said dejectedly. “ I hope Harry saves Draco…” she said, watching on in
desperation.

Ron quickly analyzed the situation. It looks like the only re-enforcements on call were
himself, Cho and Fleur. “Dammit to hell! We’ll just have to do this ourselves!”

**************

“Do you enjoy this sensation?” Karkaroff taunted. “ The feeling that you are helpless, and
that I decide whether this girl lives or dies?” Karkaroff pointed the tip of his wand
underneath her chin, eyeing Harry smugly. “So young, so beautiful, it would be a shame
wouldn’t it? I could do it easily you know- maybe I’ll just dispense with the theatrics and ...”
he trailed off dangerously.

Harry’s eyes burned with power, his broken rib and the after effects of the Cruciatus curse
completely forgotten. What were his options? Was he fast enough? Could he get there in
time? He instinctively ran through all the wandless techniques he had: Summoning Charm -
nope, no good Replusion Hex neither, Levitation -what was he going to do? Lift them into
the sky? Absorption? The Death eater wasn’t trying to stun him- that made no sense.
Magical Clone nah- won’t work twice. Disillusionment hex? No good either- was he to run
and hide like a coward? The Infernus was too risky, he could hurt her instead of him. In the
space of a heartbeat, all the possible outcomes raced through his mind. Frustratingly, all of
them came to one conclusion: without his wand, he couldn’t retaliate without her getting
killed or he himself inflicting damage upon Hermione. A little soft voice popped into his
head:

…If we only had the sword…

‘Don’t think of that cursed weapon right now!’ he corrected himself. He needed a plan.
There must be a way! Trying his best, he racked his brain and thought back to his Tactics
Class.

“Remember, in a hostage situation, there are two main reasons why the aggressor has a
captive. One: as a bargaining tool or Two: as bait. If the enemy wanted the captive dead,
they would already be. Use negotiation skills. Find out their purpose.”

Harry put his arms up in surrender. “ What do you want? If you want revenge for this man,
let her go, you can kill me instead. I won’t run.” His eyes bored into the tiny pupils
underneath the Death Eater mask. He needed more time!

“Harry!” Hermione screamed, shocked.

“But two is better than one! I could kill her, then kill you!” Karkaroff boasted. Secretly,
Harry knew he was getting cocky. Good. Keep them talking. An idea clicked- Hermione was
here! And how did she get here? He teleported them here! And what was Hermione
excellent at? Occlumency! He had a plan.

“Is that so?’ Harry enquired. He had to get Hermione’s attention. Using his own mediocre
Leglimens training, he tried to reach out to her, calling her name: Hermione..? Hermione! It
wasn’t under the best circumstances, but he had to try.

“Of course!” Karkaroff said. His eyes connected with hers, and he felt her presence touch his
mind. Hermione, when I give the signal, duck! Trust me!

“If you kill her- I’ll make sure you join him, “ Harry growled. Doing this spell under pressure
would take a lot out of him. He may not be able to do this twice. He saw her slight nod of
understanding. “Ask your master Voldemort if you don’t believe me…” Harry challenged.
Gradually, he felt the area around him constrict, and his breathing became laboured. His
vision swirled about him, coming closer and closer to a point just in front of his nose. His
timing had to be perfect, his judgment had to also be spot on. He never tried this under this
sort of pressure, neither this level of intoxication. His mind worked furiously, and he had to
relax. Concentrate!- about twenty feet forward…three fight high…

“Well maybe you should be first!” Karkaroff countered, and pointed his wand at Harry.
“AVADA KEDAVRA!”

“Now!” Harry shouted mentally as well as physically. As the green bolt of magic shot
towards him, Harry disappeared, the time and space around him sucked into a dimensional
portal. Hermione suddenly threw herself down to the grown, almost taking her captive down
with her. In that split second when Karkaroff was unbalanced and his wand was pointing at
Harry- a figure rematerialized out of nowhere, hurtling towards him feet first.

“Wha-?” Karkaroff exclaimed just before Harry connected with an improvised jump kick,
combining Teleportation and just dumb luck to connect solidly with a vicious kick to the
face. Hermione felt, more than saw, a figure fall past her head, then suddenly the grip on
her was gone, and she fell roughly to her hands and knees. There was the sound of
someone hitting the ground hard, then the muffled sound of Harry falling into a cat-like
crouch. Hermione glanced behind her. Harry slowly rose to a standing position, the Death
Eater struggling to get up from that blow.

“Interesting,” Karkaroff laughed. He got up, and readied himself to duel. “Combining
teleportation with an attack? Not a new concept, however, only true Dark wizards could
master that advanced magic. I underestimated you, dear boy!”

“You haven’t seen anything yet.” Harry said evenly.

“Oh ho- but neither have you!” and with that he vanished, reappearing right behind Harry.
Before Harry could react, Karkaroff had already attacked, using a close range, wide-angle
spell. “Laceratia!”

Harry tried to move out of the way, but Karkaroff chose his spell well- and he couldn’t
dodge it as easily as a bolt of magic. His back was ripped open as if hit by a Cat-O-Nine
tails, and he screamed in agony, falling flat on his face. He automatically reached for his
back to soothe the pain, only to feel welts of skin bloodied and raw.
“Harry!” Hermione screamed, diving towards him as his back exploded in lines of blood.

Karkaroff laughed, clearly victorious. “Don’t flatter yourself. You are not the only one who
can do precise teleportation. How did you expect me to get from inside the pub to out here
without being seen? And now for the grand Finale-“ Karkaroff loomed over the both of
them- triumph in his gaze. What he did not expect was for the young girl to shield his body
with her own, he eyes staring defiantly back at him. As he glared at her through his mask,
something strange was happening, and he took an involuntary step back. Her eyes were
beginning to glow, and soon after began pulsing a startling bright light-

“Leave him alone!” she screamed, and Karkaroff was inexplicably thrown back by an unseen
force. A figure began to materialize in the darkness, an apparition that shimmered faintly
over the grass. Hermione’s lips moved of their own accord, her hands and fingers moving in
an ancient Divine Summoning ritual. The apparition soon began to intensify in its luminance,
and a graceful beautiful woman in sparkling white robes emerged, her huge feather wings
opening majestically. It levitated higher into the sky, and Hermione began to physically
radiate a soft white light. When the Angel’s enormous wings reached its total wingspan, it
began to sing a soft, calming hymn.

“ Alma sara namisteed…. Vifo alla sara enmisteed…!” *

(*translation: I come to offer aid unto the broken …. hear my voice and reawaken!)

The light intensified, and then the angel was gone in a blinding flash. Karkaroff faltered
under intense magic, blocking his eyes from the spell.

“WHO ARE YOU?” he bellowed, looking incredulously at the young woman. When he opened
his eyes, he saw Hermione laying quietly on the ground, out cold. Standing behind her,
looking murderous; was Harry Potter. His wounds were slowly being healed, while his shirt
was in tatters over his back. He looked at Hermione’s still form. She shouldn’t have done
that- it was too much of a strain on her!

“Hermione!” Harry wanted nothing more to pick her up and escape, but she was directly in
between the both of them. But deep inside, he could not let this man get away with what he
had done. He saw the thin line of the Death Eater’s slice along her cheek, and his blood
once again came to a boil. “You really fucked up this time…do you know who you are
dealing with?”

“My my- quite the arrogant one aren’t we?” Karkaroff snarled. “Don’t push it boy- I know of
your connection with the sword, without it you are NOTHING!” Waving his wand
dramatically, he procured a very complex spell, his incantations coming out so fast it
sounded like gibberish to Harry’s untrained ear.

“Asi salinta charing massier salizar astian immeliance roujier triallantus Serpentus!” he
recited, and instantly a serpent shot out of his wand. Harry jumped back. What was he
doing? He remembered Malfoy using a similar spell the first time they duelled, what was he
trying to pull?

“Behold! Slytherin’s favourite pet, the renowned Serpent God: Shalingini!” he screamed,
and Harry watched on in shock. The serpent multiplied itself in size so quickly by the time
fell on the ground in front of Hermione, it’s tail was five feet in diameter, the torso double
that and it’s Cobra like head was looming high over him, nearly two stories high.

“What the hell?” Harry screamed as he peered up into it’s ebony eyes. Eyes that displayed a
certain degree of intelligence….

Karkaroff laughed. “Amazing isn’t he? This is a Bloodline ability- his care has been passed
on from generations to generation! He is forever loyal to the Karkaroff family!”

“So you’re Karkaroff then, I’ll remember that,” Harry mumbled beneath his breath. He
thought the basilisk was big, but compared to this monster; it was no comparison. The
snake’s massive jaw opened and it hissed loudly, seemingly heralding it’s arrival.

“[ More like living in slavery- how much longer do I have to suffer these fools? ]” The snake
eyed Harry dangerously; it’s tongue tasting the air in front of him. “[ Whoa- an enormous
magic potential I sense, maybe I will feed well tonight! ]”

Harry did a double take. “What did you say?” he hissed.

Karkaroff eyes’ bulged. Was Potter talking to the snake god itself? Shalingini’s lifelike
expression changed, contemplating the young human far below.

“[ I have been enslaved since the lowly beastmaster that served under my master, Salazar,
stole me away from his noble house. I have been cursed with obeying their families bidding
ever since. Who are you, mortal? How do you speak my tongue? ]” Shalingini asked.

“ I’m Harry, Harry Potter. Always have been able to I guess. So you say that you were held
against your will, huh?” Harry asked the huge snake.

“Shalingini! What are you doing? Kill him!”

“[ Greetings, Harry Potter. I am Shalingini of the Amazonian Zoloms. Oh, and will you
please tell him to shut up?]”

“Sure...” Harry agreed. “LISTEN.. Shalingini here says to keep quiet!” Harry told Karkaroff.
Karkaroff’s face blanched. What was going on?

“[ There’s a presence I sense about you. You are familiar to me, you are the youngling of
Godric Gryffindor am I not correct? I sense that you were once close to my former master’s
son, Marvolo Slytherin. How are you still alive after all this time?]”

Harry made a non-committal shrug, and hissed again in Parseltongue, using his hands to
gesticulate. “ Um- long story. Listen to this- your current master has done my girlfriend and
I an injustice. If you allow me to defeat him, I will set you free. You have my word.”

“Shalingini! What are you waiting for? Sink your fangs into him!” Karkaroff screamed,
watching the private conversation unfold before him.

“[ Freedom? It has been thousands of years since I was free. Very well, young Harry Potter.
I will not stop you.]” Shalingini bowed his huge head in a slight bow, and with a speed that
was incredible for such a large animal slithered away from the battle.
“So much for your trump card, Karkaroff,” said Harry, smirking.

“What did you do?!” he bellowed.

“I just made him an offer he couldn’t refuse,” Harry grinned. Out of the corner of his eye,
he realized that the battle had taken him almost the full length of the field, and he was not
too far away from his dorm house. It was still tough- it was almost fifty metres away, plus
there was at least two floors and one room in between, but he thought that he could pull it
off. Raising his hand in the general direction of his third floor apartment he screamed his
incantation:

”ACCIO WAND!”

Karkaroff laughed at the ridiculous notion of summoning a wand barehanded, until a second
later it arrowed out through the window on the third floor, changed direction a few times,
and sped directly towards Harry.

"How did you? No, that's impossible!"

“Are you ready?” Harry asked, twirling his wand in between his fingers. With a slow,
deliberate point of his wand, he incanted in that strange voice.

“MORBIDUS PATRONUM!”

Karkaroff instinctively put up a shield.

What in the world is that ? It wasn’t any patronus I had ever heard of… Karkarroff thought.
When the figure did take form, he came to a conclusion that no matter what transpired, this
was the night he was destined to die.

“No...It can’t be…it does not exist!” he faltered, petrified to the spot. Harry crouched low,
and gave the huge black dog an affectionate scratch behind its ears. The Grim growled
menacingly, it’s eyes glowing in the night darkness. “GET IT AWAY FROM ME!!”

“Repent, Karkaroff, and the father may show you mercy. I will not! ” Harry whispered to
him, and the mythical being growled louder, and took off after Karkaroff. He instinctively
tried to run, but by the time he turned around, the huge paws of the Grim were on his back,
forcing him to the ground. He spun over, trying his best to fend off the mauling animal. The
huge beast began to snap and rip apart his flailing arms… a horrible scream piercing the
night air. Lights began to come on from various apartments, and people tried to peer out
into the darkness as the blood curdling cries travelled on the winter chill air.

After a few seconds, the screams stopped, and Karkaroff laid still, his Death eater’s mask
lying on the ground next to his face. The ground vibrated with the movement of something
heavy and agile slithering across to Harry. The huge snake coiled its body, and bowed its
head so that its nose was almost reaching the ground.

“[ You have kept your word, young Harry. My freedom will not go unappreciated. You and
your bloodline will be able to summon me whenever necessary. This is the incantation:
'Serpentus Patronum'. Fare thee well, young warrior.]” The snake magically buried itself into
the earth, and was gone without a trace. Harry did not even give it another thought. He
went directly over to Hermione, and took her into his arms. Her breathing was shallow, and
all Harry could feel inside was guilt. He looked about him, there were bodies everywhere-
Hermione, Karkaroff, Mulciber, Malfoy, Mulciber’s mate…Kenna..

This is a disaster. What had he done?

“Harry- Christ almighty man! Are you okay? Is she okay? What happened to Karkaroff?” Ron
came panting over.

“I'm sorry….” Harry whispered softly as he touched Hermione’s face. The blood was still
warm on his fingertips. His thoughts raced back to their date in Madrid, and the promise
they had made to each other.

“No matter what happens, we’ll promise that we’ll try and make each other happy, and look
out for each other, even though we may be far apart. No matter what.”

Hermione kept her end of the promise all right. But could he say the same thing about
himself? His eyes began to tear up as he heard Ron question him.

“We were coming in to help, then we saw this huge snake- and I don’t know man- that
scared the shit out of me!” Ron panted. He inched a couple steps over to the dead Death
eater. “Holy…I saw him him screaming and flapping around as if he was being mauled,
then…then-nothing, he just …stopped. What happened to him? Did you use the…” Ron
gulped, “ Killing Curse?”

“No.”

“Well, what the hell happened?! It looks like he- he was scared to death! ” Ron exclaimed,
nudging the dead man with his boot. There were no physical signs of violence. His mouth
hung open in a gaping scream.

“Well, there you have it,” Harry said, still not looking up at him. With steel in his voice, he
picked Hermione up in his arms and walked towards his dorm room. “He was literally scared
to death.”

“How did you do that?” Ron asked seriously. Harry did not turn around, but paused
significantly at the stairs leading to the entrance.

“I command the Grim.”

***********

Chapter 12: Crossroads

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** Chapter 12:Crossroads**
Harry silently carried Hermione to his dorm. Right now, he was so distraught that he felt
almost numb to the point where that nothing else mattered. With careful deliberation he
navigated the steps to the third floor, ignoring the pieces of mortar and plaster littered on
the ground from the ‘bullet’ holes created in the walls by summoning his wand. The other
Lionheart students who were awoken by the sudden appearance of holes in their walls froze
as Harry walked past, giving him a clear path as he carried the scantily clad woman
solemnly down the halls. No one said a word, but some pointed in awe at them as they
passed, their faces cringing at the nine nasty slashes across Harry’s back.

Harry paused in front of his locked door, strangely intrigued by this latest obstacle. With a
silent movement of his lips, the whole door trembled, then unceremoniously fell over with a
muffled thud unto the old pair of boots he took off before he went to shower. Looking at it
with a serene expression, it levitated out of the way, and allowed him to pass. The one or
two brave enough to tiptoe behind him to see what had really happened only caught a
glimpse of him before the door levitated back into place and shut itself with a decisive click.

Very gently he laid Hermione on his bed, watching her with tears beginning to form in his
eyes. Taking out his wand, he administered a simple healing charm used for minor injuries
and cuts. With a trembling hand, he delicately passed the tip over her cut face. His wand
glowed softly, and the healing spell slowly but surely closed up the wound, leaving a very
faint scar line. It was barely visible, only a slightly lighter color tone than her normal
complexion, but to him, it was as different as night is to day. He traced the line with his
index finger, it was such a dramatic change in his eyes, he had studied her face so much
and memorized every detail that he felt he knew each and every freckle on her face.

His eyes inspected her body, and he saw the ugly pressure marks of Karkaroff’s arm
gripping her across her neck and collarbone. It was discoloured, and Harry’s hate boiled
even further.

“Hermione…”

He didn’t know what to do, or how to fully understand what had just happened. Only what
was in front of him made any sense. Hermione was in his bed, unconscious. On her face
was a faint scar that might never even heal. She was stripped down to almost nothing,
grass stains on her hands, knees, and elbows.

“HARRY!” someone screamed from outside. “DRACO IS SEVERELY INJURED! We need your
help! HARRY!!”

What were they- invalids? He didn’t care about Draco. He didn’t give a flying fuck if the
world was going to end. Hermione once again had to pay for his stupidity, and he didn’t
know how to deal with it anymore. This time it was close. Much too close, in fact. Every
time he thought things were going fine, this happens. Was it only hours before they had
shared themselves with each other in this very room? Was it only this evening he had
hugged her and spun her about in Hogsmeade? How could one fucking day end so horribly?!
The battle adrenaline was still pumping through his veins, making his hand open and close
in a nervous twitch, and he began to shake. His knee jumped uncontrollably, and he had to
pound on it a few times to try and make it stop. Taking a deep breath, he composed
himself, and wiped his eyes. This was his mess, time to go and clean it up.
Silently, he got up, and opened the door. Everyone from the dorm house was outside his
door, talking animatedly then abruptly fell silent as the door swung open.

“Hey...Harry? What happened? You okay?”

“Who is she?”

“Who are those people outside?”

“Is she dead?”

Harry ignored them all and stalked back downstairs. The door to his room shut firmly behind
him, apparently on its own accord. The other students began to follow him down, but Harry
stopped suddenly, and stiffened. Without even looking back, he spoke in a low, monotone
voice.

“Get away from me.”

They did not need to be told twice. Harry continued down the steps and calmly opened the
door that led outside. Fleur was crouched near to Draco, her face almost flush against the
grass as she tried to talk to him. Ron and Cho were hovering nearby, looking very out of
place in their party outfits amongst the dead littered around on the ground.

“Jesus-“ Ron started, his face pale. Adrenaline was pumping through him like wildfire and
right now finding words to communicate was difficult. “H-Harry, what you said about about,
about, well about what killed him, well how he died, well I mean I know how he was killed,
but er …”

“Shut the fuck up Ron,” he spat. “Fleur! Get away from him. Cho, contact S.T.A.R. master
Jeremy Kingsley and Head Healer Frederick Smethwyck. They would want the details of how
these three died. Cordon the immediate area using the Illusion wards. Remember how to
activate them?” She nodded. “ Good. After, put them all in separate stasis charms until the
M.A.R.S specialists arrive.” Harry did not even break stride as he went over to Kenna,
nonchalantly stepping over Karkaroff’s still corpse in the process. “Enervate!” Kenna stirred.

“Huh?” she mumbled, fluttering her eyes. “ What the- Harry? Izzat you?” she asked
groggily.

“Get up, Rossilini,” he ordered, and hauled her to her feet with a steel grip on her arm.

“Ow! That hurts!” she protested, trying to tug away. Harry said nothing and made his way
over to Fleur, who had immediately sprung up and backed away from Draco as he
approached. Harry spent a moment looking at Draco’s still form, and the strange angles his
limbs were making. “Draco!” Kenna screamed, trying to rush down to him. Harry restrained
her easily, not even realizing that his grip was strong enough to really hurt her. She tried to
fight him off, but Harry glared at her, and she quieted down.

“Malfoy!” he shouted. “Wake up!” he ordered. Draco stirred, but did not open his eyes.
Harry cursed. “Wingardium Lleviosa!” he incanted, pointing his wand at his still form. Out of
the corner of his eye he saw someone skirting around, wringing his hands. “Ron, stop acting
like a little girl and get a hold of yourself. They are already dead-and it was I who killed
them. Happy?” he said nastily, giving Ron a scathing look. “They would have done the same
to you in an instant. Remember that. Let’s go.” Harry stormed off, dragging Kenna along in
one arm and levitating Draco behind him. “Fleur, I am taking them back to Hogwarts. Tell
whoever asks I will be back for my report in the morning.”

“What am I supposed to do until zen?” she asked irritably.

“Go wish Viktor happy fucking birthday for me, then go and practice some spells or
something, and maybe afterwards you could go do your nails for all I care.”

“Hey mate- that’s going a bit too far, she was just trying to help!” Ron said angrily as
Fleur’s expression turned from shock to hurt. Harry turned, his eyes narrowed in disgust.

“You! As for you Ron, I- I don’t know what to say,” he spat. He spun around, going back
upstairs. ”Just…Just shut up and follow me. I don’t want to talk right now.”

“And what if I don’t want to ‘follow you’?” Ron said defiantly.

“You’re going back now whether you like it or not. If you don’t, I’ll show you what real
wizards are made of, instead of strutting around pretending to be one,” Harry said evenly,
not breaking stride. Ron opened his mouth to retaliate, but then changed his mind. What
irked him the most was that Harry had a right to be angry. Wasn’t he supposed to be a
‘Knight’ of the magi? How much good did that do when the time actually came? He
remembered what that Mulciber guy told him when he was neck deep in the earth :

“ Ah. So you must be the infamous Ron Weasley. I heard of your exploits in the Prophet.
Knight of the Magi huh? What does that really mean nowadays?”

Stifling his fury, Ron obediently did as he was told and trudged behind them. He silently was
glad that Cho didn’t see Harry tell him off. He was ashamed enough as it was by his inability
to do a damn thing. When the Hogwarts party arrived in his room, Harry laid Draco on the
cluttered floor and grabbed some spare robes and stuffed them in his Quidditch bag, not
even looking at any of them.

“How are we getting back?” Kenna asked hesitantly. Harry finally looked at her- she was
slowly reverting back to her normal self, half of her hair was blonde while the other was still
brown like Hermione’s.

“You know, I never should have met you. I would have been a much happier person if I had
left you to die on that farm,” he said emotionlessly. Ron and Kenna gasped, they did not
expect Harry to say such cruel words. Ron felt he deserved what he got, but to directly hurt
her like that- Harry had gone too far!

“You bastard!” he shouted, and charged Harry head on. In a flash Ron was thrown up
against the wall, his windpipe constricting as a strong force gripped him about his neck. Ron
dropped his wand, gasping for breath as his head bent awkwardly where the wall met the
ceiling. Harry continued his packing, angrily stuffing the Cloak of the order of the Phoenix
into the bag. When it failed to fit, he cursed again and threw it out carelessly, unconsciously
stepping on it as he went back over to Hermione’s side. He checked her breathing once
again, and placed his fingers on her pulse. With a negligible flick of his wrist, he released
the Levitation spell and Neck Binding jinx on Ron. Ron fell to the ground, coughing painfully.
Harry stepped over, looking down at his once best friend.

“Ron, your skills are pathetic. When you live up to the name that your Order of Merlin Third
Class gives you, maybe then you can challenge me again. For now, it’d be best to leave
your precious plaque on a shelf where it belongs.”

Ron glared up at him, his hatred burning in his eyes. Harry just snorted in derision, and
turned his back on him. Ron would have loved to sock him with his back turned, but he
slowly felt the room constrict in around him, his vision getting blurry-

AAWWOOOOOOGGAA! AAWWOOOOOOGAA!

The blaring wails of an alarm were ringing through the castle, but Harry paid it no attention.
They were all now in front the main steps of Hogwarts Witchcraft and Wizardry, Hermione
and Draco floating behind him. Ron got up off the ground, clutching his sore windpipe.
Draco’s kid sister, however, was still in shock- looking about her in awe. Harry wasted no
time and began banging on the huge front doors. After the second rap of his knuckles, the
second and third floor windows shattered in a cacophony of broken stained glass. Harry
looked up, immediately using his Shield Charm to protect his entire group from the raining
splinters. Kenna screamed as a whole army of suits of amour jumped down from the floors
above, landing with the soft clangs of agile warriors. Two marched in front of them and
crossed their spears, effectively blocking his path. The rest surrounded them, their weapons
held at the ready. The gargoyles on the numerous towers came alive, circling far above in
the early morning sunrise. Harry calculated the odds, and knew that if it came down to it,
this would be an extremely tedious fight, a fight he did not want to start. One of the
smarter looking gargoyles swooped down, and perched itself on top of the massive oaken
doors. Harry raised an eyebrow in speculation.

“HALT! Who are you? State your purpose immediately!” came Professor Dumbledore’s voice
through one of the gargoyles.

“Hullo Professor, long time no hear,” Harry replied dryly. “ I have two injured who needs
Madame Pompfrey’s attention immediately,” he stated.

“Two injured?” there was a pause as the gargoyle seemed to be deliberating something.
“Your voice sounds familiar- Harry? Is it you?”

“Yes. Will you please remove your guards?” Harry asked through gritted teeth.

“How did you get past the apparition field?” Dumbledore’s voice returned out of the
gargoyle, the steel army still blocking their path.

“Can we discuss this afterwards, sir?” Harry’s temper was once again on the rise.

Before Harry realized that someone had snuck up on him from behind, Dumbledore was
calmly taking off an invisibility cloak- his wand at the ready. “It really is you- “ Dumbledore
mused. “I was worried for a second- thought it was a Dark Wizard that managed to breach
the castle grounds. ”

At this, Ron gave Harry a significant look.

“I’m sorry professor, but Draco Malfoy is seriously injured, as well as Hermione,” Harry said,
his voice strangely quiet. Taking another breath, he tied to keep composed. “ She really
needs your help. I will tell you everything after they are in the hospital wing,” Harry
pleaded.
“I will take them at once-“ Dumbledore agreed, and he returned Ron’s look with a slight
nod. “Allow me,” Dumbledore said, and he tapped his wand on the door. There was the
sound of cogs and gears turning, locks and bolts snapping open. He pushed open the door,
and dug into his robes, taking out his trusty put-outer. He pointed it in succession to the
main chandeliers, and shortly afterwards the main hall was dimly lit with the glow of a few
fires. “Harry, we will discuss this, but first let us get them some attention.”

An hour later, after Hermione and Draco were hospitalized, the current Defense Against the
Dark arts teacher, Remus Lupin, their resident groundskeeper, Hagrid, newly appointed
Transfiguration teacher, Nymphadora Tonks, and Professor Dumbledore were all in the
headmaster’s office, listening quietly to the events of that night. It was evident that they
were not pleased. Not pleased at all.

“It was foolish of you to take them, Harry. Do you know what could have happened?”
Remus said, his tone dangerously quiet.

Harry did not respond. He studied all of their reactions: Hagrid had his eyes averted, not
sure if he wanted to say something or not, Tonks was watching Remus uncertainly, her legs
crossed as she sat down with a worried expression on her face, and the headmaster had his
fingers steeped in front of his mouth, his gaze resting squarely on Harry. Remus, as usual,
was pacing up and down. Full moon was drawing near, Harry could tell by his agitation and
restlessness. Harry himself was standing by his lonesome, just in front of the exit.

“He didn’t know all of this was going to happen!” Tonks interjected. “They were just going
to a party!”

Harry would have loved to hug Tonks for the support, but inside he knew Remus was
correct. He should not have brought them. Remus gave her a look, and she quieted her
arguments. Dumbledore cleared his throat, and stood up behind his desk, pulling his short
dark beard regally.

“I must inform you, as part of the specialist Auror squadron at Lionheart, your name is
automatically put on a figurative hit list. Both your father and godfather were admitted into
the program, and almost immediately they were put into peril. It is widely known that the
strongest and most gifted wizards are drafted there, therefore, making excellent targets for
the Dark Wizards hoping to achieve notoriety. Voldemort was not the only wizard who
wanted them dead,” Dumbledore explained.

“But in your case,” he continued, ”Your name is already world renowned. It is not by chance
this wizard wanted to challenge you; there are many who are still loyal to the Dark Lord.
This is something that you must always take into consideration, and keep your guard up at
all times.”

“So what you’re saying that there is no way to stop this?” Harry said angrily.

“Hah! The only way to stop this is if you could wipe the face of evil off the entire planet….”
Remus said in a mock tone. “Harry, you have to be more careful! You may be able to
protect yourself, but your friends are not as gifted as you! And furthermore –“

“The day that I left here, I swore that I will protect everyone from Voldemort, no matter
how many times he resurrects, no matter how many years it takes. I still hold to that. You
think I will sit idly by and watch anyone hurt her? Do you think that I cannot protect those
that I care about?” Harry countered softly.
“No…I’m not saying that, but-” Remus replied.

“Good.” Harry and Remus had a moment of an intense stare down. Harry broke eye contact
first. “I hate to be rude, but I want to see her before I return to Lionheart. I will have to
report to my superiors immediately… thank you for you help, professor,” he nodded at
Dumbledore. “Hagrid, Tonks, Remus,” he nodded in farewell, and turned out the door.
“Professor- Harry has changed,” Hagrid said simply. Professor Dumbledore said nothing,
just simply stared at the door which Harry just left.

Moments later, Harry’s footsteps rang through the abandoned halls leading to the Hospital
wing. Everything was jumbled into his head, from memories of his first years here, all the
way to the present day. The pockets and skips along the way were giving him a headache.
Why weren’t his memories in order? Why could he remember things that he certainly did
not experience? This place brought back so much good times, but unfortunately it was
scattered about, and he couldn’t seem to decipher why it was a task for him to make the
right turns to get to the hospital wing. After all, as Malfoy once said that it was a shock to
see him not swooning over his scar and spending the majority of his time inside of there.
When he eventually did find it, Madame Pompfrey was checking up on her.

“How is she?’ he asked quietly. Madame Pompfrey looked across at him, and at the subtle,
and not-so-subtle changes in his face.

“She’s stabilized, but it will take her a few days to eventually wake up. She has used a
significant amount of magical power in a single uncontrolled burst, and her body is now
paying for it. It’s a peculiar complication, but I already treated her twice with this strange
condition. Hopefully, she’ll be back to full speed in a few weeks, but her magic will be shaky
at best for a few more months. If you want, you can spend a little time with her. There’s
coffee and some eats on the table- Ron was here earlier and he had Dobby bring him
some…” she pointed at the little table in a waiting area, not telling Harry that Ron was
deliberately avoiding him.

Harry looked at her face, and the tubes running into her mouth and the magical needle
sticking into her arm just above the elbow. Tenderly, he caressed her hair away from her
face. He took her hand into his, and stared at her for hours, the numbness inside slowly
being replaced by remorse, and guilt. When the sun was fully up and the sunlight crept into
the room, he knew it was inevitably time to leave. Harry got up, and softly kissed her on
her lips.

“I’ll come back, I promise. Get well soon.” And with that, he got up and left the room. He
trudged past the next door, feeling as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders. Draco
was already half awake, his body bandaged so intensively that half of him was wrapped in
magical healing linen, his right arm and leg suspended at an angle by a permanent
levitation ward. Harry looked at him as he walked passed, and Draco’s uncovered eye
followed him slowly as he crossed his area of vision.

“Potter,” he croaked softly.

Harry paused, and turned back to enter his room, standing wearily at the foot of the bed.
“Yeah?”

“Is…Kenna…safe?” he mumbled.
“Yeah, she’s fine.”

“Good…a-and what about Mucliber and his men?“

“Dead.”

Draco chuckled so softly Harry initially thought he was having a hard time to breathe. “T-
they they were supposed…to be mine…”

Harry looked at Draco’s current condition. There was an awkward silence between the two
young men and Draco’s smile faded as Harry’s face crumpled in defeat. “Next time you can
have all you want,” Harry said sadly. “I have too much on my conscience. Get some rest. I’ll
see you back at school…” Draco had no more witty comments as his once hated enemy- and
now comrade, walked off. He noticed that Harry’s back was crisscrossed with fresh wounds;
all of them still red and caked up with dried blood. Draco’s good eye narrowed on him as he
exited.

Damn, what happened to you after I was taken out?

*******************

At midday that fateful Saturday, Harry stood in the middle of courtroom ten, a single
spotlight on his beaten and battered body. He was bombarded with questions the entire
morning in a crash Ministry hearing specifically designed to question the military elite. He
just wished it to be over as soon as possible. The facts were deliberated and picked apart
since he was summoned, and finally the repercussions were being announced by the council
head.

"Mr Harry James Potter, you have presented before this council the events that happened
on Friday the thirteenth of December 1998. Are your statements the complete truth?" the
speaker asked him.

“Yes, they are.”

“You claimed to have been attacked by S.T.A.R. Elite trainee captain Ryan Mulciber and the
previous headmaster of Durmstrang Wizarding Institute, Igor Karkaroff? You also state to
have single handedly defeated both, killing them in the process?”

“It was in self defense,” Harry re-iterated for the umpteenth time. He wished he could see
the face of the woman who was questioning him. It sounded familiar, but the booming echo
of the Sonorous spell made it hard to distinguish. He also did not see the reason for his
wrists to be shackled to the ground like if he were a prisoner, but that did not really matter
to him. These chains could not hold him down if he really wanted to escape.

“Very well. We accept your tale of events, and are grateful for your proficiency in nullifying
the threat to our Auror institute. It is remarkable that you have defeated both the top
wizard student of N.E.W.T standard in 1994 and his instructor, a skilled ‘S’ class sorcerer
with the ability to rival that of Albus Dumbledore and Madame Maxine of Beauxbatons. Your
talent at only seventeen is extraordinary.”

“No one could defeat Albus Dumbledore,” Harry said loyally. The speaker tilted her head as
a memory came back to her.

“Speaking about that, why did you not inform us that Draco Malfoy is the man in the
recordings of the battle of King’s crown of the previous year? The incident in which He-who-
must-not-be-named was defeated?”

“That doesn’t matter with his acceptance into Lionheart, does it?” Harry countered. “He had
the money, and he applied. He did his exam, and was placed in the Auror trainee division.
Nothing out of the ordinary.” Now he knew who this is. The Minister of Magic herself was the
one heading this questioning.

“The Ministry wishes to have all potential dangers well investigated before accepting such an
individual. He was accepted on a very strong request from the Order of the Phoenix. We
chose to accept him on these terms, not the fact that he is a Summoner of the Infernus.”

“That applies double to me then, I can summon the Infernus also. Does it make a difference
for me being an Auror?” Harry asked nonchalantly. “He is a gifted wizard, and a fierce and
loyal comrade.”

“Excuse me, can you repeat that? Did you say that you control the element of Fire as well?”

“Yes, I did.” There were a few murmured whispers amongst the council body, some more
pronounced than others. Harry got the general impression that there were genuinely
surprised.

“That is an interesting fact. This knowledge has apparently surfaced at the most opportune
time,” she said thoughtfully. Clearing her throat, her tone was once again was all business.
”As a member of the S.T.A.R Elite, you are required to complete more dangerous tasks than
regular Aurors. You do understand this aspect of your profession, correct?”

Harry laughed. “Dangerous tasks? Wow, sounds new and exciting,” Harry mocked in a dry
tone.

Some of the council members chuckled in response. Harry could have sworn he saw Sherry
Diggory smile underneath the thick shadows of the higher tiers of the courtroom.

“In the days of old, prestige was based on the skill of a wizard, which was measured by the
number of duels he has survived. In these new times, those barbaric methods have been
done away with, but the underlying values will forever remain. Your record is exemplary,
one defeat in twenty-one duels, ahem; twenty-three as of last night. In addition to the
defeat of Dragons, dementors, and other vile creatures, your repertoire is astonishing. The
facts do not lie, Harry. By these medical records of Hogwarts and the W.O.W assessment
you have taken last year, it is clear that you are indeed gifted in the arts of war. Allow me
to let you in on a little secret, Harry,” she said casually, and Harry was positive he
recognized her voice. “The Weighing of the Wizard assessment not only grades the three
spells you have completed in the exam, but it is a way of deducing the amount of Duels and
magic experience that particular wand has with it’s wielder. Over time and battles, it
becomes an extension of your person, and integrates itself to attune to your abilities. When
the compatibility rating has reached over ninety percent, the wandless magic techniques are
now open to be explored.”

Harry listened carefully. That was why his wandless spells were coming easier and easier-
his score was a perfect one hundred percent. Hell, it saved his neck last night.
“It seems that from since the age of eleven, your only defeat has been against the wizard
Hunters of the attack in Italy. Amazing.” There was a momentary pause where she
conferred the documents in front of her with the two other figures on the left and right of
her. “We do not need any more proof or credentials to make our decision,” she said,
confidence booming from her voice. “From here on out, you will head the S.T.A.R Elite
division as their captain and Field Commander. You will receive orders solely from Auror
Division Master Jeremy Kingsley, or myself; Sherry Diggory, and are expected to take the
initiative to plan and execute shadow missions for the British Ministry of Magic. However,
this will not be public information. As far as the ordinary community knows, you are still a
trainee, and attend Lionheart as a student completing his degree in the Auror division. Do
you accept this position?”

“Er- I guess,” Harry said uncertainly. Shadow Missions?

“Excellent! Well, it is settled. Congratulations, Mr. Potter. You will proceed to the
Unspeakable Division for a brief rundown of your responsibilities- and the scheduling for
your extra training sessions. Your name will be raised to class B security clearance, and will
be registered to use the Unforgivable Curses once your training is complete. Oh, and
pertaining to your finances, please meet with Mr. Youri Llewellyn in the Payroll department
to create your Ministry salary account. Have a good day.”

And with that, his bonds were released, and the council filed out of the door on the highest
tier. For a few stunned seconds he stood stock still, his mind reeling. It finally dawned on
him and he realized the mess he had just gotten himself into. But one thing kept repeating
itself over and over in his mind, even though Remus said it in jest:

”Ha! The only way to stop this is if you could wipe the face of evil off the entire planet...”

He knew that was impossible, but there had to be a way to keep Hermione safe. And if it
took him years to find it, he vowed she would not be taken captive again.

******************

“Remus, I will need your assistance,” Dumbledore interrupted in the middle of his breakfast
on the next day, bright and early Sunday morning. He immediately put down his forkful of
pancakes and looked up at his mentor.

“What is it?”

“We must find another Divine Summoner immediately,” Dumbledore said, beckoning him up
to his office.

“Why?” Remus asked as he followed him up the stairs.

“We need someone to train Miss Granger, it is imperative she learns the Exorcism spell as
soon as possible,” Dumbledore answered as they entered his private office. He opened the
fourth drawer quickly, producing an old scroll. Laying it on his desk, he unrolled the aged
parchment delicately. On it were a list of names of recognized Summoners that passed
through the school since record. It was painfully short.

“Exorcism? Who is it? Who has been possessed?” Remus asked warily.
“She was indeed correct,” Dumbledore sighed. “The fact that he could use the Teleportus
spell to infiltrate the grounds was a definite sign. Remember, the magic used to create a
portkey has been restricted to only certain Ministry-approved Aurors, and teleportation is
the self-embodiment of that objective magic. Essentially, it is creating a portkey of oneself
and the surrounding time and space...”

“But that aspect of spell casting has only been accessible to Dark magic users, that’s why it
is illegal…” Remus finished, understanding dawning.

“Precisely. There is a darker presence inside of Harry, and with each passing duel, it
becomes a stronger influence on him. We must exorcise Solidus Gryffindor, before it
consumes him entirely...”

******************

Chapter 13: The S.T.A.R. Elite

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**CHAPTER 13: The Star Elite**

Harry spoke to absolutely no one for the next seven days. The last week of classes
consisted of getting ready in the morning, donning his invisibility cloak on his way to class,
arriving late so that he could take a seat at the back to avoid unwanted attention, and first
to leave- putting back on his cloak as he left. Inevitably, Fleur and Cho sought him out on
the Friday before Christmas, knocking on his door almost fearfully.

“ ’Arry?” Came Fleur’s voice softly through the door. She knocked again and was about to
call out when it opened, Harry filling up the doorway. He looked stonily at the both of them.

“Yes?”

“Can we speak to you?” Cho asked, her voice trembling. Harry thought about it for a
second, and then allowed them entry. They closed the door behind them, and entered his
tiny room. Harry leaned up against the little breakfast counter defensively, crossing his
arms as he eyed the both of them. Cho had just come from her med practicals; she still had
on her Healer’s robes, while Fleur had already changed from her S.T.A.R. trainee combat
robes.

“What is this about?” Harry cut to the chase.

“Why have you been avoiding us? Right now you should talk it out, not keep it bottled in.
We’re here for you,” Cho said earnestly, and Fleur nodded in agreement. Harry just glared
at them.

“It's not so simple, and I really don't want to talk about it."

“Well, if you talk to us, we may be able to understand….”

“Understand?” Harry raised an eyebrow. He begin to chuckle, he could not believe it. Here
they were, two girls who knew nothing, trying to ‘understand’. “This is not something you
could figure out, or rationalise,“ he replied. "What happened Friday isn't anything new, this
is my life, and these wounds are real..." Harry unbuttoned his shirt, opening it to reveal a
huge white bandage wrapped around his torso.

Fleur and Cho gasped. On his right side above his bandaged rib there was the faint tell-tale
bruise suffered from the Reductor curse a few years ago, scars peppered his left shoulder
and arm. In between the more obvious injuries, were the regular ones - a line here, a
depression there, remnants of all the battles he has survived. Pulling his shirt back on, he
refused to show him the Hunter’s scar and the newly inflicted Lacerations on his back that
were still taking a while to heal.

“Right now, Hermione is once again up in the hospital at Hogwarts, and I don’t know what
to do anymore. All of these scars combined can’t compare to how much it hurts me when I
have to see her like that. These attacks aren’t coincidences: they know she means a lot to
me – they’re not stupid, so now I’ve got to find a way to keep her safe, and until then, it’s
best if you also keep your distance.”

“Oh- that’s so noble of you Harry- just simply shut out everyone, is that it?” Cho countered.
“Do you think that is really going to help? Now is the time that you need someone to talk to,
you need your friends! And for Christ’s sake, we’re here for you!” Harry just stared at them
for a moment, Cho’s words penetrating the personal barrier he tried to set up around him.
His memories went back to Neville, and the day he had sworn allegiance to him. It was after
his first DA meeting back in his pitifully short sixth year:

Harry was leaving after packing up, but Neville stopped him to stay for a moment.

"Hey Neville, something you wanted to ask?"

“Not really ask, I- had to tell you something - it's kinda personal, so don't laugh okay?”

Harry knew that Neville was stronger than he looked, but was a bit taken back that Neville
felt that this was serious enough to wait for a private moment, yet was cautious enough to
ask for him not to laugh. Not that he would, of course.

“You don’t how much it means to me now that she’s really dead. The moment I saw her that
night, I knew that I had to do it for them, y’know; my mum and dad. When we dueled, I
couldn’t do it myself- I tried, but she was way better, and stronger. She got me with the
Cruciatus curse, so I begged for her to kill me instead - but she said she had to finish her
‘job’. I was helpless – and she could have killed me then and there so easily. Even though I
was nearly blacking out, I was scared when she took up Hermione and Ginny, and deep
down, knew that she was going to use them for something bad. I hated that feeling, that
someone was going to be hurt because I couldn’t do something about it. From now on, I’m
going to train really hard, and I’ll get better! From now on, you have my word, I’ll have your
back! I mean that! ”

And with that, Neville offered his hand to shake. His dedication had impressed Harry, and
they clasped their hands in a strong bond of loyalty. As soon as Neville left, Harry had the
horrible feeling that was a mistake.
**

Unfortunately, Neville died a few weeks later trying to save Hermione. He kept his word
though, Neville had fought as if possessed that night at Hogsmeade. He died a hero, but his
death still weighed heavily on Harry. Cho was his first kiss, he will always have a tender
spot in his heart for her. Right now, what he did not want was another hostage candidate
getting too close to him. Same thing went for Fleur. That pledge of loyalty was like signing a
death warrant. Cedric had said it, Sirius had shown it, and now Hermione was once again
caught in the crossfire. It was getting closer every time, for now, it was better he stayed
away.

“ I appreciate it Cho, I really do. But this is way over your head. Someday you’ll understand
that in this life, there are things that is better left alone.” His eyes turned cold. Softly, he
continued: “And then, there are certain things that must be done.”

“What are you talking about?”

Harry lifted two objects, a slim folder with the Ministry of Magic official stamp on it, the
other a thick, well-worn tome covered in black leviathan hide. On it was inscribed a
pentagram encircled by a red circle, the demonic symbol eerily burning on the cover. Fleur
strained her eyes, and made out the faint letters ‘A-z-k-a-b-a-n’ on it, though written in a
weird and almost unrecognisable script. “I’ve been given the position of S.T.A.R. Field
Commander,” he dropped the Ministry folder on his desk. “ In a week, I’m meeting with my
new squadron, so I’m just checking up their profiles. Hopefully we’ll make a difference, a
real difference. I’ll be doing a three week boot camp with them; then come the new year
we’re going to start hunting down the Azkaban escapees in earnest,” he dropped the much
heavier book with a thud on the table, a strange hissing noise seeped out from the yellowed
pages. Cho and Fleur involuntarily moved closer to each other in apprehension, and inched
away from the cursed volume. Harry did not even realize their discomfort. “So right now,
there’s a lot on my mind, and it’d be best if you just drop this ‘I want to be your friend
thing’.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Cho asked, eyeing the scary symbol. Harry shook his head slightly.
Fleur was watching Harry carefully. She knew when he was serious.

“No.”

“But, y-you’re younger than me! You aren’t really doing this are you? It’s ridiculous!” Cho
protested, denial written all over her face.

“Well, the ministry doesn’t think so. Neither do I,” Harry responded softly.

“ ‘Arry, what about Hermione?” Fleur asked sadly.

“I’ll talk to her,” Harry said simply. “I’m happy you came to check up on me, but I think you
two should go,” he smiled briefly at the both of them. “Have a Merry Christmas.” Harry said
softly, and turned his back on them.

******************
Deep in the Department of Mysteries were doors that no regular ministry official could open,
far less know about. One of these doors housed one of the Ministry’s many secrets in their
ambiguous and shadowy ‘Unspeakable’ division: The S.T.A.R Elite offices. In it were three
sole occupants, hastily brought back after a long time apart. It wasn’t the most joyous
reunion. As usual, the ones in charge found it funny to keep them waiting.

“Who do you think our new commander is going to be? Things have been dead around here
without Mad Eye. Can’t believe it’s taken them a whole year to re-instate us….” Sol
DeFontaine said irritably. He pulled out his trusty cigar, and lighted it on the tip of his wand.
He had to admit he was nervous. It’s been a while since he met a really tough wizard, well
tough in his biased opinion.

“Have no clue,” answered a deep gravely voice. “It better be worth comin’ out on Christmas
Eve for, though. Diggory said we’ll start a new campaign come the next ‘ear,” Steven
Warshire replied, folding his arms underneath his cloak. “I’m all for killin’ some criminal
scum. It’s been a while, eh Lestrange?” he continued, giving the sole woman present a
mischievous wink.

“There’s only person who I’m really interested in killing, and he shares my last name. Other
than that, the others are just bonuses,” came a sultry voice from underneath a large hood.
“Rodulphus seems as slippery as ever, this time I’m not going to let him escape,” she said
with steel in her voice.

“Drop that whole ‘revenge’ thing won’t you? It's so melodramatic, I'd be better off watching
a sappy romantic movie on the box home,” Sol countered, smirking.

“ Aye, an a box of napkins to wipe away the pain- “ Warshire added with a snort. “Rebecca,
you’ve got to let it go, you ain’t getting any younger, and maybe a good breedin’ will help
ya –“

“Another word, Warshire, and there will be two men on my list,” she said icily. “Let’s all be
professionals and wait on Kingsley and whoever this person is to arrive. Then we could
easily get him killed on the first mission and the Ministry would realize that one of us,
specifically- me, should head this division, instead of some nauseas bureaucrat who knows
nothing about duelling. No one could replace Alastor, no one…” she said sadly.

“Aww...and the Award for best dramatic performance goes to- TA DA!” he swept his hand
dramatically – “Rebecca Lestrange! (sometimes accredited as Rebecca Moody)… for her
brilliant portrayal of a Duellist Gone Emotional in ‘No one loves me’- Volume 4!” With a
grand flourish Sol produced a silver statuette out of his wand and caught it out of midair. It
was an intricately detailed figurine depicting a tragic image of a young girl with her tiny,
balled fists rubbing the tears from her eyes. “Steven, if you’ll do the honours?” he said
solemnly. With utter reverence, Warshire took the award and presented Rebecca with it.
She glared at them venomously.

“Mock my father once again, and you’ll regret it, I swear!” she said with a passion.

“Just because he took you away from that family doesn’t make him your father. For crying
out loud- he basically dumped you in Lionheart as soon as you left Hogwarts! Stop living in
his shadow, live your own life and go get married or something and start a family! I heard
your friend Tonks has something baking in the oven already. Don’t be left behind, what are
you waiting for? You’re of ripe young age!” Sol argued good-naturedly.

“Aye, with a body like that, my wife would kill me if she knew who I worked with. She may
even forget the fact that I never told ‘er what I really do for a living.” Warshire gave her an
appreciative look. “I may look old, but I’ve got it where it counts. Sure you don’t want to
take up my offer?” he added lecherously.

“I rather sleep with a dog than touch you!” she countered, fire in her eyes. “You two are
disgusting old men!”

“Hey, come on, forty one ain’t that old …” Warshire said jokingly.

“Tell her, Steven- we’re basically in our prime! Our sexual prowess is legendary! That’s why
you won't admit what you’d really enjoy is a good roll in the hay-“

At that moment the door to the office opened. Two men walked in, one with the near all
knowing expression seemingly forever set in place, the other a mysterious figure who
walked silently behind, his face covered entirely by the shadows cast by his thick hood. The
three specialists recognized Jeremy Kingsley immediately, but came up short with any clue
to who this guy was. He seemed to be on the slight side though, and instinctively Sol and
Warshire snorted in derision.

“Ah, I see you are all here. Good, sorry for the delay, I forgot to tell our new commander
where it was. I apologize,” Kingsley said light-heartedly. At that, Rebecca’s eyes narrowed.
This guy didn’t know where it was? That means he has never worked in the department of
mysteries before…

“Well, we’re all here. Does Mr. Mysterious care to tell us who he is?” Sol asked, all laughter
gone without a trace. He puffed his cigar, scowling menacingly at him. Warshire folded his
arms defensively, and cursed under his breath. Already he didn’t like him. Rebecca, on the
other hand, wasn’t so sure what to make of his first impression. There was something very
dangerous about this man….

Harry stepped forward, and pulled back his hood. Kingsley cleared his throat, and
announced a bit hesitantly, ”This here is your new commander: Harry James Potter.”

“You gotta be fucking me!” Sol grumbled unbelievingly. Warshire remained silent, but his
expression said it all- he looked absolutely murderous. Rebecca on the other hand was
shocked speechless. Tonks had told him he was to be their child’s godfather, and even to
that she had told her good friend that he was too young. Now here he was, standing before
them in the flesh.

Harry looked at each of them in turn, sizing them up. Sol was the big, aggressive sort, his
physical presence nearly dominated the whole room. He was a good-looking fellow, most
probably late thirties into early forties, his face covered in a thick stubble. Sandy blond hair
was trimmed short to the scalp, and the cigar balanced precariously on the edge of his lips,
but he spoke with an ease that Harry instinctively knew he was a chain smoker, and his
cigar would never ever fall to the floor. Turning his eyes down a bit to the shorter, older
looking bloke, Steven Warshire was every bit as his profile described: tough, squat, and
dangerous-looking. He eyed Harry with such intensity that if he were a lesser wizard, Harry
may have cringed. He raised an eyebrow lazily at Warshire, dismissing his unsaid threat
without much thought. Finally, he inspected the last member, a young woman in her mid to
late twenties. Harry did not know if she was gorgeous, but she definitely was mysterious.
Her face was cast in shadow, and also halfway covered by a large blood red scarf. It
wrapped once or twice around her neck, completely covering her chin and mouth and
partially blocking the end of a cute small nose. Her eyes were a dark shade of violet, quite
an unusual colour in Harry’s opinion, and the lone lamp above cast deep shadows under her
hood, so that her hair colour could not be deciphered. Under her billowing cloak she wore a
practical combat robe, not too tight, but close fitting enough for Harry to notice that she
kept herself in great shape.

“This is good, Jeremy. Really funny. This is what you bring us here for? – A joke?” Warshire
spat.

“I could squash him in my right hand,” Sol added scornfully. Just as Jeremy and the two
men began to bicker, Harry silently stepped forward, taking out his wand slowly, holding it
by the tip with only his thumb and forefinger.

“Kingsley, you say these are hardened wizards, right? I could hurt them a little and they
won’t cry would they?” Harry smiled slightly. Jeremy just looked at him, and a smile tugged
at his lips, but not enough to fully materialize. He stepped back, letting Harry take the floor.
“You know my name. I won’t need to introduce myself. You see this here? Phoenix core,
nine and three quarter inch length.” He slowly and deliberately laid it on the nearest flat
surface, a small desk with only a potted plant on it. “There, I am defenceless. If one of you
could put a scratch or burn on my person in any way, I’ll walk out of this room right now.”

“What the hell? Are you shitting us?” Sol said dangerously.

“It would be my pleasure- “ Warshire said darkly, both of them drawing their wands. Jeremy
had to concentrate on using his Far Seeing ability to actually figure out what happened
next. As Sol’s wand came to bear, Harry seemed to have sped up beyond human capability.
In a flash his cloak of the Order of the phoenix was whipped off, and flung at Warshire. Sol
hesitated, but before he could respond Harry took a quick step forward, pivoting on his heel.
Ducking low, he span from behind the dark cloak, his left hand grabbing Sol's outstretched
wrist with a loud smack. Darting beneath the bigger man's arm, he took a two handed grip
on his hand and sidestepped, wringing his wrist counter clockwise and locking the man's
arm behind him. With a quick kick to the back of his legs, Sol was brought to his knees.
Wrenching his arm up, Harry stamped hard on between his shoulder blades, forcing the
much larger man to kiss the floor. Harry glanced at the others, and swiped Sol’s wand out
of his grasp, pointing it at Warshire before he had a chance to throw the magic-resistant
cloak off of him. With a little flick, Harry had him lined up before Warshire could even aim.

“Expelliarmus,” he said lazily, and Warshire’s wand flew up into the air. Pointing his wand at
the tossed object, he took control of it and snapped his wrist downwards. The wand arrowed
down straight and true at Rebecca, who was trying to get a clear shot from behind
Warshire. It never materialized- Warshire’s wand connected directly with her wand hand
with a sharp crack! Her thumb broken, she had no choice but to reflexively drop her weapon
as pain shot up her arm. With another little sweep of his Sol’s wand, Harry incanted a very
simple spell, one he recently found out would work on multiple targets at the same time-

“Silencio.” Both of them immediately grew hoarse, failing to summon their wand using
wandless magic. Rebecca's eyes opened wide above her red scarf, her disbelief evident on
her face. Realising that they were in no position to continue, the both of them took an
involuntary step back, Warshire's fist clenching in fury. Harry felt Sol on the ground trying
to struggle free, so he accommodated him by putting a lot more force in the opposite
direction that his arm should be able to twist, keeping his foot planted firmly on his back.
Sol pounded the carpet with his free arm, fighting the urge to groan in pain. A little flick of
his wand later, Harry summoned al of their wands to levitate in front of him, a small smile
on his lips.

“Are these what you want?” he asked coolly, grabbing them all in his hand. “The three of
you have lost your primary weapon, and are now silenced. If this were a real duel, you'd all
be dead. The two of you can step over there,” he indicated with a tilt of his head, twitching
his hand in separate directions. “You,” he said to the man on the ground. “Out that cigar,“
Harry smirked. Aww, what the hell, why not? "Please," he added sarcastically.

“Fuck you!” Sol cursed, his face flush red with humiliation as Harry added more pressure
unto his already aching shoulder. He groaned as he felt it almost ready to pop out. Damn it
all to hell!! Who the fuck is this kid?!”

“Fine, I’ll make you do it then- Inciendo!” he said darkly, and the tip of Sol’s cigar
combusted in a large ball of fire. The fire raced up the length, and Sol panicked. He began
to vigorously try and out it against the carpet, the butt clutched in his teeth. After some
intense neck and teeth work, he managed to save his face from being scorched. “Now, to
make things fair, we can have another round. This time I would face you equally, and use
my own wand, and return these three to you. What say you guys?” he asked lightly.
Warshire stood still, his face turning a deeper shade of purple by the second. Rebecca was
watching him incredulously, favouring her injured hand. Sol just cursed once again, still
unable to move with Potter’s foot squarely in the centre of his back. Jeremy Kingsley
smiled, pride beaming at all angles.

“No one?" Harry tsk tsked. "Right. Seeing as that I have neither a burn nor scratch on me, it
seems that I am allowed to stay.” He released Sol DeFontaine, and incanted the counter
spell for the Silencing jinx. He handed each their wands, (Sol having to use his left arm to
take it instead) and with a faint wave of his hand his wand jumped back into his palm and
his cloak that was deceptively used as a weapon wrapped back around his shoulders,
clasping itself at the front of his collarbone. “For now, let us forget these little pleasantries,
and get down to business. We have a lot of work to do.”

With a newfound respect for their new commander, they all took the folders handed out to
them, warily watching Harry’s expression. He sat down at the table, and opened the huge
book with all of Azkaban’s prisoner records. As the meeting wore on and Harry relayed his
goals for the upcoming campaign, Rebecca smiled secretly underneath her blood red scarf,
even though her thumb was still throbbing with pain.

Tonks, you've gone absolutely nutter.... but you couldn’t have picked a more perfect person
as your child’s future protector.....

********************

“Do you think he’ll come Ginny?” Hermione asked her red haired friend. Hermione had went
home a week early, leaving the Monday after Krum’s party, telling her parents she wasn’t
feeling well and pleaded homesickness. Her parents were more than ecstatic to have her
home early, but Hermione really wanted to spend some time with them for the Christmas,
and then meet up with Ron and the others for Christmas dinner at the Burrow. She knew
her parents wouldn’t want her anywhere near Harry so Hermione simply told them that he
went off to study and they weren’t seeing each other anymore. It made things easier when
she asked to leave on Christmas Eve to go by her friends Ron and Ginny. Her parents were
reluctant, but Mr and Mrs Weasley had visited them that same evening, and helped
persuade them to let Hermione come over for the holiday.

“Er- yeah..I guess...” Ginny said, she wasn’t sure herself. And if Harry did, that may not be
a good idea right now. Outside, she heard the telltale cracks and miniature explosions of
mock duelling. Ron was at it again….

“What is that?” Hermione asked her as she also picked up on the sounds wafting up through
the window. She stood up to look outside, but all she could see was a few flashes and trails
of smoke coming from the small wood at the back of the Weasley property. She plopped
back down on Ginny’s bed.

“Ever since the beginning of this week Ron has been begging Charlie and Bill to duel with
him. Even when they’re not around, he’s in there twenty-four seven, training. I think he
feels he has something to prove,” Ginny said absently.

“Something to prove? What do you mean?” Hermione asked.

“ You didn’t know? Of course you wouldn’t, you were a bit under the weather that weekend.
When you guys came back Fred and George found Ron crying. And I’m telling you one
thing, Ron may whine a lot, but he never cries. Obviously Fred and George knew something
went horribly wrong, and boy were they furious when Ron told them what happened.”

“Why? What happened?”

“Harry called Ron a useless coward. You don’t know how much that hurt him. So we’re
actually not really on talking terms with him right now…”

“Coward? Why would he do that to Ron? Harry doesn’t mean that!”

“You’ve got to understand Hermione, Ron always looked up to him, even though they were
always best mates. When Dumbledore gave him that award and everyone was cheering him
on was probably the best day of his life… But when he was nearly killed twice that night and
Harry had to save his neck both times, Ron knew what he told him was true. Even though
he has done so much for all of us against Voldemort and on the train, Ron thinks that his
Merit of Valor is nothing more than shit. Harry humiliated him in front of Fleur and Kenna,
and told him that he had a lot to learn before he even thought about challenging him.
Hermione, I honestly don’t know about Harry being the guy he always was…right now he’s
so creepy.”

Hermione creased her brow in thought. That was Solidus’ influence- she knew it. Harry
wouldn’t do such a thing, would he?

Outside, at that same moment, Ron was breathing hard, he was facing his brother Charlie in
a mock duel, both using dampening spells on their wands to reduce direct damage done by
the curses and jinxes. It has been nearly a week since Charlie, Bill, Fred and George were
rotating duelling with him, and his progress was improving ever so little day by day. Sweat
was running down his face, and he was quite dizzy. Too many hits from numerous spells
were taking its toll over the week, and now he felt spent. Maybe he should give it a rest.
Telling his brother he was done for the while, he trekked deeper into the wood to find his
favourite spot.
He lay flat on his back, his arms splayed wide on the chilly grass. He slowly drifted off into a
troubled dream, one that took him back nearly four years. He could see it as clear as it was
happening before his eyes. This was back in his first divination class, and Ron was trying to
decipher what it was he saw in Harry’s tealeaves. At this point in the dream, Trelawney had
snatched it out of his hands, and was now scrutinizing what was at the bottom.

**

‘O-oh oh, what is it that you see Weasley? Quick- tell me tell me!’ Professor Trelawney
asked him, shuffling over. Everyone was staring, transfixed at Professor Trelawney as she
gave the cup a final turn, gasped, then screamed. Everyone jumped at her sudden reaction.

‘What is it Professor?’ he heard Dean Thomas say. She backed away, her jewelled fingers
pressing unto her chest, her eyes wide with fear.

‘My dear, you have the Grim!’ she breathed hoarsely, her eyes magnified tenfold through
her glasses.

Both Ron and Harry looked at each other, their faces baffled. Ron noted that in this dream,
Harry’s face was kinder, more in touch with everything around, but now…

‘The what?’ asked Harry.

‘The Grim, my dear, the Grim!’ cried Professor Trelawney, hysterical to the point that her
voice was screeching. ‘ The giant, spectral dog that haunts churchyards! It is an omen- the
worst omen- of death!’

Ron looked over at Harry to share in a good laugh, but the Harry he once was no longer
looking back at him. This Harry's face was twisted into an evil grin, his eyes aglow with a
pulsing blue energy. Ron’s whole world shrank into nothingness, and Harry’s shadowed face
loomed down at him, taking up his whole range of vision- the outline of a huge black dog
slowly superimposing on his features…

And at that point in time, Trelawney began to vigorously lick his face.

**

The morning sunlight was shining through the trees, and blared red against his shut eyelids.
The licking, however, had not stopped. “Ooh Ron! Look look! Charlie bought him as my
Christmas gift! He’s adorable isn’t he?!’ Ginny screamed from above.

Ron opened his eyes, face to face with the unblinking eyes of a black dog. He yelled, and
shoved it off of him. “GET IT AWAY!” he cried, springing up to his feet. Ginny and Hermione
looked at him skeptically. Ron took some deep breaths, and the tiny little puppy ran away,
and Ginny scooped him up lovingly in her arms. Both girls looked at him quizzically, and
Ron stared hard at the tiny ball of black fur snuggled up at Ginny’s bosom.

“What’s wrong?” Hermione asked him, completely taken by surprise. “Why did you sleep
outside in the cold?”

“Come inside, mum wants you to wash and get ready for Christmas breakfast,” Ginny said
offhandedly, already turning to leave.

Ron looked at Hermione strangely, and shook his head, not bothering to say anything. He
stalked off inside, leaving Hermione to wonder what was it that really happened after she
passed out.

******************

On the morning of New years, Remus and Dumbledore were finalizing their plans. Cross-
referencing the short list of Summoners through the history of Hogwarts, they found a
family tree that may have a strain of the Divine Summoning ability hidden within their
lineage. It was a very slim chance, but they had to investigate any sort of possibility on a
fully-fledged Wizard or Witch who could train Hermione. Only she was close enough
emotionally with Harry to make it possible, and; only she could control him, just in case
Harry (or Solidus) was uncooperative.

As they were about to exit in their traveling robes out of the main hall, Firenze the Centaur
called out to them, his hooves clopping loudly on the ancient floor. “Albus Dumbledore, a
word, if you may.” Dumbledore and Remus paused, and turned towards Firenze. Firenze
beckoned them to his Divination lair, his tail swishing majestically as he turned back into
the corridor. Remus and Dumbledore entered, and were enraptured in the artificial setting
that was set up for him a couple years back.

“The stars are showing the signs. It is time, Albus, the prophecy that has been heralded
from before even our own formidable history. One of the two strongest wizards has finally
emerged, and if the other joins him in battle, they will set this earth asunder with the
second Great War, one that could rival the first battle that split the four founders into strife.
It is dawning upon us.”

“Who are you talking about?” Remus asked, his heart beating faster than ever.

“The Bloodline of Gryffindor has now his first followers, and soon many more will follow.”

“And who is this other wizard, Firenze?” Dumbledore asked.

“It is impossible to tell at present. Let it be known that once these two unite, there will be
an age of war, and deaths will be rampant over the following years. I have seen the events
coming to life since seven years ago, and now the smoke patterns are conclusive. One half
of the prophecy has already come to pass…all that is left is for the bloodline of Slytherin to
join him.”

“The bloodline of Slytherin?” Remus questioned. “Voldemort is dead,” he announced, his

confusion increasing.

“Indeed, is there another we do not know about?” Dumbledore mused. Firenze peered at
the wafts of smoke produced from burning the Mutroot tree bark.

“There is one- but his lineage is not pure. Dumbledore heed my words, before seven full
turns of the moon, the quest for the Holy Person must be complete, or else you will fail.”
“He means the Divine Summoner,” Remus said automatically. “Seven turns, that would
mean the end of July-“ Remus looked up quickly at Dumbledore.

“Indeed, Harry’s eighteenth birthday." Dumbledore bowed his head towards the wise
centaur. "Firenze, our time is short. We must take our leave. Fare well, and wish us
Godspeed,” said Dumbledore. Both Wizards left in a swirl of robes, and a few moments
later, the hallway doors opened and then bolted closed to mark their leave. Firenze looked
up at the stars above, and secretly wished against what they were telling him. It had
already begun.

********************

“Kingsley, your men are good, but I will request one other. He is still rough, and I will need
to work with him on his wand capabilities, but he will be an extremely useful asset,” Harry
said as he leant against the bar at Kingsley’s house. Harry had popped in after making the
right enquires to the certain Muggle Relations officers he had to contact over the Christmas
holidays. His work had him already making several new contacts, and it took a bit of
convincing to persuade them on his high security level to obtain certain information. Finding
that his youthful appearance did nothing but hinder him, he took on the uniform of the
Unspeakables who worked in the Department of Mysteries, wearing a blood red scarf around
his face and a black hood over his brow wherever he went. Flashing his security level
parchment was no longer met with weird expressions and unwanted questions. Plus, the
anonymity suited his purposes well.

“Oh? And who is it you will like to have drafted into the team?” Kingsley asked, pouring
Harry another drink. Harry took it up, and swirled it in his glass. He smiled over the edge of
the slightly smoking liquid.

“I want the Summoner- Draco Malfoy.”

***************

Chapter 14: Another Day At the Office

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**Chapter 14: Another Day at the Office**

Harry sat alone in Sirius’ old study, the candlelight flickering over his tired face. He was
busy doing his seemingly never-ending research, his fatigued eyes staring hard at the book
in front of him. Sleep avoided him these days, ever since the incident at the Lionheart Order
of Sorcery. Every time he shut his eyes, images of his previous classmate and squad leader
–Ryan Mucliber, swam before him, and most of those dreams ended with his body sinking
slowly, inevitably into the earth.

The horrible thing was, every time he saw him die, he would get up with a stupid grin on his
face, the back of his eyes burning fiercely with the hidden power of Solidus’ charm. The
same went for Karkaroff – that feeling of triumph, that once again the wicked men had
opposed him, and once again he had succeeded in ridding the world of another piece of filth.
Henceforth, he only went to sleep after using an Insomnia combating potion that allowed
him to have a dreamless night’s rest. However, this potion could not stop the constant
fatigue and mental strain that kept hounding him during the day. With a few days to kill, he
kept himself busy by learning as much new spells as possible. Having finished going through
a few of the spell books, he began reading up on some of the personal diaries and
manuscripts of the Black’s infamous family history. It was just as his godfather had said-
utterly depressing and morbid- the tales of wickedness that the past inhabitants of this
house had done.

The fire that crackled warmly in the hearth suddenly blazed alive, the amber and red flames
turning green. Harry frowned, only the Order and one other who knew of his home
residence. Expecting Dumbledore to be the one contacting him, his eyes narrowed as
Jeremy Kingsley’s head floated in the fire.

“Potter! We got a slight situation,” he said, seeing Harry seated amongst the semi-rolled up
scrolls and books piled up on the desk in the corner. Harry got up quickly, and kneeled on
one knee in front of the hearth.

“What? What has happened?” Harry asked anxiously.

“It’s not that something has ‘happened’, it’s more like a change in plans,” Kingsley
explained. “Madame Diggory has requested the services of you and your division.
Dumbledore and Remus Lupin have left word a couple days ago that they would not be able
to escort the Hogwart’s Express at the beginning of the new term, and has asked for a full
contingent of Aurors to go in their stead. However, Sherry knows that her regular Auror
squadron may not be sufficient- well, considering what you did to them a year ago I don’t
particularly blame her- and has asked for my Elite to handle it.”

“Don’t you think sending a tactical team to do escort duty a bit, er- much?” Harry
questioned. He could already picture DeFontaine cursing fluently at the mere thought of it.

“You have a point, but I think it’s still a pretty good idea, this could be a good chance to
assess how you guys work as a team- as well show the public at large that our new Minister
of Magic is focusing her main priority as keeping the children safe. And weren’t you telling
me about the Malfoy wizard, didn’t you say he’s still at Hogwarts recuperating? Might as
well kill two birds with one stone, you can bring him back to London for his briefing, and he
also needs to register with the Ministry payroll department as well…” Kingsley broke off, is
eyes narrowing on Harry. “I was there at your hearing, I know what he’s capable of. I’m
trusting you on this Potter- if he’s half as bad as his father, he can’t be trusted,” Kingsley
warned.

“Don’t worry. We have a certain understanding,” Harry reassured him. Kingsley

contemplated for a second.

“I trust you, Potter. Have your men at King’s Cross at nine sharp- time to earn our pay. I’ll
tell the regulars* to expect you four-“

“Don’t bother, the four of us will be enough,” Harry said simply. “Instead, tell them to
investigate the recent break in at Plexor’s Potions Inc. I heard large amounts of Veritaserum
were stolen? I think that may be a lead into this Briddings character we’ve heard about. He
might be the link to a crime ring that has been forcing some wizards to give them their
Gringott’s account numbers…” Harry explained, already planning tomorrow’s escort mission.
Kingsley looked at him strangely, and then broke into a small smile.

“I got to hand it to you, Harry. Your confidence is amazing. You sure left an impression on
the others the other day,” Kingsley commented. “ I’ve actually heard that DeFontaine and
Warshire went to the dueling range and had a go at each other, practicing and sharpening
up on their skills. No one has ever taken them before, and without a wand to boot-“

“Yeah? Well- er thanks, I think,” Harry said offhandedly. “Speaking about them, I was going
through their profiles again after meeting them- why is it that Rebecca’s age is marked
‘unknown’ and family ‘none’? Rodulphus Lestrange is on the top tier; a rank ‘S’ criminal on
our fugitive list; she definitely has a brother alive-“

“Well, her age- it’s off record as my favour to her,” Kingsley laughed. “She didn’t want the
new commander, namely you, to think less of her skills because of her age. She’s quite the
prodigy, never you mind, but still she doesn’t want the whole world to know she’s only
twenty four, going on twenty-five. And concerning Rodulphus Lestrange- don’t mention that
name in front of her. She wants to nothing more than to kill him.” There was a silent pause.

“Oh-” Harry soaked in that piece of information. “She’s only twenty-four?” he blurted out.

“Tomorrow, then, nine a.m.” Kingsley dodged his question, and swiftly ended the
conversation. “Full dress, Potter- tell your men the same. You guys are the Elite, keep that
in the back of your mind always.” And with that, Kingsley disappeared from the fires.

“Yeah, as if I’m going to forget…” he mumbled as he picked up the box of Floo powder and
threw some in the flames. “Warshire residence, 37 Periwinkle Avenue, Leeds!”

(*regulars- normal Aurors)

********************

“Ron, now remember what we discussed!” Molly Weasley had just kissed her last son on his
cheek. Ron had to bend slightly as she tiptoed to reach. “Goodbye my son, I am so proud of
you,” she said softly, fixing his collar affectionately.

“Bye mum,’ Ron answered somberly, giving her one last hug. His father came up to him
next, and gave his son a manly handshake. “Dad, thanks,” Ron said sincerely.

“Anytime, son,” Arthur Weasley looked up at his Ron, his height a couple inches over six
feet. “Never sell yourself short. Remember that.”

“I will,” Ron replied, releasing his father’s hand. He followed the others unto the train, his
single suitcase levitating behind him. With a flick of his wand, it packed itself neatly into the
overhead compartment. This would be his last trip to Hogwarts on the train as a student. He
felt almost nostalgic, remembering his first time on it, nervously asking a dark haired boy if
he could sit with him in the only relatively empty compartment available. Soon afterwards a
bushy haired girl asked them if they had seen a stray toad. He smiled at the memory: that
was the beginning of a camaraderie that was already stuff of legend. He thought it would
last forever.

How could he have been so wrong?

*******************

“DeFontaine- is that the last of them?” Harry asked quietly. It took Sol a lot of effort not to
jump. He muttered his reply, taking another puff on his cigar and speaking out the side of
his mouth.

“Yeah-the tall red haired guy just boarded. He made sure he was absolutely the last one.
I’m assuming he’s the head boy, and Gryffindor by the looks of it. What about the train
staff- you checked ‘em out?” said Sol. The fact that Harry had snuck up behind him
disturbed him a bit, but nothing that Potter did surprised him anymore. He was kind of
getting used to the surprises.

“Yeah- the new driver is clean, as well as the snacks woman. Warshire told me he checked
the train; everything seems to be all clear. All right- you and Lestrange will be inside,
Warshire would take point on his broomstick- I will be on top, just in case. We’ll rotate posts
every so often- let’s go,” Harry nodded at the three adults who stood apart from all the
other parents wishing their children a safe trip, some waving at the bright faces of their
young ones.

“You heard the man,” DeFontaine said, and he and Rebecca boarded. Warshire disappeared
into the crowd, and was gone. Harry took a deep breath. He considered using an
Occlumency spell, but hiding was not one of his strong points. Hermione was much better
than he was, and it will be futile to even try and stay incognito. As the train slowly took off,
Harry walked over to the edge of the platform and jumped on the last carriage, climbing up
the service ladder. Just as he predicted, as soon as he was in range Hermione had detected
him.

*******************

“Creevy- you and Pollock will man the first year carriages, Mariana- will you please put that
down?” Hermione ordered, her prefect’s roster parchment in her hands. “Worthington, don’t
do that, you’re a prefect now, please refrain from-“ she gasped, suddenly distracted-
“Harry!”

Ron eyed her. “What?” he hissed.

Just then the door opened on their prefect's meeting. One large man accompanied by a
woman waltzed in. “Don’t mind us, carry on, carry on,” DeFontaine smiled, his cigar in the
corner of his mouth. Ginny looked absolutely smitten. Luna simply stared, but did not react.
Hermione bristled; as the daughter of a dentist, she hated smoking in any form or manner.
“Just passing through,” he said lightly, and he and the woman walked up the crowded
corridor. Hermione, however, was not pleased, not one bit.

“Who are you?” she asked, standing directly in their path. They both wore deep blue
uniforms, their outfits accented by black trimmings. A large cloak draped over their
shoulders and was held together by a gold ring in the front. Sol’s hood was back, the scarf
he wore was jet black, and thrown lazily once around his neck and disappeared underneath
his cloak. The woman however, was a different matter entirely. Half of her face was hidden
beneath her blood red scarf, and her hood prevented anybody who wasn’t directly in front of
her to look into those startling violet eyes.

“Ain’t none o’ your concern little lady, we’re just doing our job,” Sol smiled charmingly, his
voice rumbling with his deep foreign accent. There was a bit of a titter amongst the girls, all
excepting one. Hermione scowled.

“Well it’s my job to know what’s going on in this train, these children have been left in my
care by none other that Professor Dumbledore- well seeing as there is no Auror escort this
time. Are you two new professors?” she challenged.

“Hermione!” Ginny stage whispered, trying to shut her up. Hermione ignored her.
DeFontaine scowled.

“Well see here little miss lady, I don’t have to answer to you- or- anyone here for that
matter-”

“Pardon his rudeness,” Lestrange cut him off, pulling back her hood and removing her scarf.
“We are members of the S.T.A.R. division, and will be your security escort to Hogwarts.
There is no reason to worry,” she said reassuringly. Now that she had spoken, it was the
guys’ turn to do a double take. Her shiny black hair was pulled tight into a bun,
accentuating her striking features. Ron’s jaw actually dropped a few centimeters. Her eyes
were fierce, and her face was unadorned with any make up whatsoever, but she was
definitely sexy. Hermione shifted her attention towards her. Ah- someone with a bit of
intellect and manners!

“I’m sorry, I’m Hermione Granger, Head girl of Hogwarts- and you are?” Hermione asked,
offering her hand. Rebecca just smiled, but shook her head, not taking it.

“I’m sorry miss Granger, but we’re not here to make friends. We’re here to protect you.” So
this is the young woman Tonks has been telling me about. This is Potter’s girlfriend? The
two women sized up each other, a sudden tension in the air. Hermione broke the silence.

“S.T.A.R. division you say? How many of you are on the train?” Hermione asked, her voice
strangely neutral. Then it had to be! He was on this train!

“There are four of us.”

“That’s all?!” Pansy Parkinson laughed. “You’ve got to be joking!”

“Don’t push it, missy,” Sol warned. At that, Pansy immediately quieted down. Hermione
almost forgot that he was there, her concentration solely on the woman a few inches taller
than her.

“Is Harry Potter on your team?” Hermione blurted out without realizing what she said. Ron
fidgeted uncomfortably, but listened closely for their response. Both stiffened, and Sol
looked at her strangely.

“That’s none of your business,” he answered automatically.

“Don’t deny it, I can sense him nearby,” Hermione countered. “Where is he?”

“For crying out loud- if you knew why ask- “ Sol argued, but once again was cut off.
“He’s on top. And there is one other flying ahead of the train,” Rebecca responded. Seeing
that Sol and Granger were almost ready to physical butt heads, she decided on cutting it
out at the bud. “Excuse us, we have some work to do,” Rebecca said stonily, and she and
DeFontaine continued with their head count in the next carriage. Hermione watched them
leave, now irritated. She looked up at the ceiling in speculation. He was on top the train?

*******************

A few hours into the journey, Harry was still on top of the train, lost in his thoughts. Using
the Densify weight alteration spell, he was pacing slowly up and down the train. What was
he going to say to her when he went down? “Sorry I almost got you killed again?” or
maybe, “HI! How was your Christmas? Sorry I couldn’t come when you were sick, I have
been busy with work...” Nah- maybe he should just walk up to her and say: “ Oh, about
Ron, I’m jealous of his perfect life, so I’m sorry I insulted him and I just wanted you to
know that I killed a couple more people on our last date and wish we could do it again
sometime…

He paced up and down against the buffeting winds, his mind in turmoil. If things were
different, he would have been on this train, heading off to school for the last time just like
all the others. If things were different, he wouldn’t even be wearing these robes, or wouldn’t
have this heavy cloak on his back. If things were different, he’d be playing Quidditch
alongside his best mates and laughing about how Malfoy could never come close to beating
him.

If things were different, he could be inside that train right now, sneaking in a quick
snogging session with his girlfriend.

If only things were diff-

“COMMANDER!” A voice shouted through the roaring wind. Harry snapped out of it, and
looked at Warshire.

“What is it?” he shouted at the broomstick rider flying next to him. Warshire’s robes were
nearly drenched and spotted with large flakes of snow.

“Some miles ahead- there’s something strange. There’s an intense snow-storm a bit down,
and one person is waiting, just standing in the middle of the tracks- didn’t see me though.
It’s completely covered with ice on the curve right after the bridge. At this speed, this train
is going straight off that cliff! We should tell the others, all fifteen years in this gig and I
ain’t seen anything of the sort- blasted freezing I am.” Harry peered at the sky. It was a
beautiful clear afternoon, except for that strange patch of gray lurking a ways down. He
looked through his omnoculars, zooming in on the intense clouds that seemed to hover
directly over the tracks.

“Take this-” Harry ordered, handing him the omnoculars. “I’m going to tell the driver stop
this train, then we’re going to investigate what’s going on. It may take some time to bring
this to a stop, so give me a warning if there’s any change-” Harry raced to the edge of the
last carriage and jumped down on the service entry with a loud BANG, his tripled weight
making it echo loudly inside the compartment. Using the counter-charm to remove the
spell, he opened the door and walked in. With purpose he began to stride down the carriage
cars one after the other, ignoring the astounded looks of the students calling his name.

“Harry?” Luna called him.

“Hey! Potter! Is that you??!” before they could call him twice, he was already out the door
and making his way forward.

“Told you so didn’t I?” Dennis Creevey told his new girlfriend from Hufflepuff, Amy
Fairweather. “That’s him- he’s Harry Potter. Remember I told you I thought I spotted him at
the station?”

“Yeah-” she replied hesitantly.

“Check it out- those aren’t ordinary robes- he’s with the other two here. They’re the fucking
elite!” Dennis roared in vociferous triumph, his mad cackle making everyone else look at
him as if he were completely insane. “MUHAHAHAHAH!”

“Okay Dennis, calm down,” Amy said, her pinks red with embarrassment.

“He’s super cool!” Dennis laughed evilly.

“Whatever you say, Dennis, whatever you say,” she said. One thing was strange though,
why was everyone looking out the compartments down the aisle? Was he really that big of a
deal?

*************

Harry paced down the main corridor, looking for his two other teammates. Sol and Rebecca
met him at the second compartment down from the conductor’s, their faces dead serious.
Harry didn’t even need to ask.

“We’ve seen it- there’s something strange going on with the weather up ahead. We got to
stop the train,” DeFontaine said. Harry nodded.

“So what’s the problem? Why are we still moving?” he demanded.

“There is no longer a train driver. He disappeared. And to prevent hijacking, the controls are
charmed so that only he can control the brakes,” Rebecca said directly.

“Who’s brilliant idea was that?” Harry said irritably.

“Diggory’s,” Sol cursed again.

“Should’ve known,” Harry said. Just then he felt someone’s eyes on him. He turned, and
there she was, standing still at the entrance to the carriage, staring at him. “Hermione,” he
said, not knowing what to do. This was awkward to say the least. He fidgeted a bit, his mind
racing through all the things he could say.

“Harry? What’s going on? Why are you dressed like that? Oh-” she paused. “You’re in the
S.T.A.R division? When did this happen?” she asked.

“I’ll explain everything in a while. Right now I have to stop this train,” Harry said simply,
and brushed past her. “Tell everyone to secure themselves, er- hold onto something.”

Rebecca just nodded automatically, but when no one was looking she mouthed to Sol: 'Stop
the train??' Sol shrugged, and followed him out the compartment. Hermione went over to
the P.A. system in the first carriage and flicked her wand at it. The lights blinked on and she
took the handset. Not too sure what was really going on, she spoke in a clear, strong voice.

“Everyone, p-please take your seats, and secure your belongings,” she announced. Looking
through the open door, she could see that no one was taking her seriously, students were
still throwing things at each other, and a Slytherin boy just chased down a shrieking girl
with two antlers coming out of her head. “This is not a drill, I repeat, this is not a drill!
Please stay calm. We are not in danger, I repeat-“

At the word ‘danger’ everyone on the train froze- knowing all too well what happened last
year. The antlers girl looked back up at her, petrified to the spot. The Slytherin boy
miscalculated his next step and tripped on his robes, falling flat on his face. Numerous
heads leaned out in the corridor, uneasy expressions eyeing her warily. Hermione gulped.

“Er- hi…The Aurors have everything under control, it’s going to be okay!” she tried to
placate them.

That definitely did not help matters. Pandemonium ensued before Ron grabbed the handset.

“JUST SHUT UP AND SIT DOWN!” he roared into the mouthpiece. The kids immediately went
back to their seats.

“Er, thank you. Um, Enjoy the rest of the trip…” she added lamely. Ron dashed past her up
the aisle, and went to the foremost compartment to look out in front. He came back a
moment later, his battle face on.

“I just saw him climb back on top of the train- Now he’s zoomed ahead on a broomstick.
What’s going on, Hermione? There’s a funny spot of weather in the distance, there wasn’t
anything about isolated snowstorms in the Prophet today was there?”

“Not that I know of- Harry said something about ‘stopping the train’.” She ran back up to
the front carriage, and look out the window. Yeah- there he was flying on a broomstick,
almost a speck against the gray backdrop. The weather was indeed acting strangely.
Suddenly she felt a chill drafting through the windows, even though only a few minutes back
the day was quite pleasant. She could barely see him land on the bridge further down, the
same bridge that Dumbledore had fought Malfoy on. What was this sensation, was it déjà
vu?

“Warshire, what’s the situation?” DeFontaine shouted out the window. Warshire was
stooping low on top of the train, his clothes almost frozen solid.

“Potter’s gone down there- said he had to stop the train!” he shouted back down. “We’re to
stay here and protect the kids!”

“Fuck! He can’t stop this train by himself! Who does he think he is, Superman?” Sol
screamed back

“Those were his orders!” Warshire shouted back, his face bitten by the stinging snow. Sol
and Rebecca exchanged looks, but did not argue. They raced back up front to see what was
happening.

********************
Harry planted his feet firmly on the icy rails of the train tracks. The cold was gnawing at
him- this was no ordinary snowstorm. There was definitely magic behind this, and the
person controlling it was nearby, somewhere inside the heart of this phenomenon. The train
was still a few hundred metres in the distance, the white steam condensing nearly as soon
as it escaped, moisture freezing on the front face of the engine. He was really wondering if
he could pull this off. Animation, Locomotion and controlling objects were Dumbledore’s
forte; he could have done this quite easily. However, his specialty was in shields, offensive
spells and dueling. Harry took a deep breath, now realizing how long the train actually was.
Hell, it was nearing sixteen carriages! Could he actually do this? Inching his right foot
forward, he drew his wand, clenching his other fist slightly above and behind his head,
shifting his stance into the Apollo Dueling position. Using a channeling technique, he
deliberately summoned his magic potential to the tip of his wand.

“Protego maximus, Immobilus exertimus..protego maximus.. Immobilus exertimus….”

He drew his breath and released it in a shout, whipping his wand forward- “Arresto
momentum!”

Hermione and the others lurched forward, the train slowing down dramatically. The
reduction in speed was short lived though; the spell did not catch fully. It kept moving, the
momentum pushing it inevitably along. Rebecca’s eyes opened wide. “At this distance, he
had enough power to actually do that?!” she said, completely astonished. Sol said nothing,
but stared hard out the window. Hermione focused on the tiny object in the distance. She
had to tell him it wasn’t working! But he was so far…. Taking out her wand, she pointed it in
his general direction.

“Leglimens!”

Harry was watching the train closely, his eyes watering through the blistering cold. Was it
slowing down? No….

…Harry! Can you hear me? It’s not stopping! Try it again!…

The voice blared in his head so loudly he flinched. It was uncanny how she could directly
talk to him like that. With Snape it was more rushed images than anything else. With
Hermione, he could actually picture her telling him the words. Hmm. Wasn’t stopping? Well
he’ll just have to try harder, won’t he?

“ Protego maximus, Immobilus exertimus..protego maximus.. Immobilus exertimus!”

Once again magic surged up from his chest, racing up his arm and glowed brightly at the
top of his wand. With a mighty yell, he screamed as he cracked his wand like a whip-
“ARRESTO MOMENTUM!”

This time, the train visibly bucked, and Hermione and the others fell over, grabbing onto
something to stop falling flat on their face. There were audible screams as students tumbled
into each other and a horrible screeching noise came from below as the wheels grinded
against the now slick tracks. Harry saw in the distance sparks flying from the rails, but the
train wasn’t slowing down fast enough.

…Hermione, tell everyone that it’s going to get rough!…

“What the? So what the hell does he call this?” she spoke out aloud. Ron and Sol watched
her as if she had gone mad. Spinning about, she grabbed the handset for the P.A. system
once more. “Everyone! Hold on as TIGHT as you can! Harry is trying to help us out! Don’t
worry!” There seemed to be a murmur traveling down the train as the students soaked in
that piece of information. Suddenly, an almost frozen Steven Warshire burst into the front
compartment.

“What the fuck is he doing? Is he trying to kill me? If I didn’t use that sticking spell I would
have flown straight off! Sol, Becky, we got trouble. There’s someone controlling that Snow
storm, we may need to back him up if there’s trouble-“

“ARRESTO MOMENTUM!!” came another shout.

“SHIT!” Sol cursed. The train lurched again, once again throwing them off balance. They all
held on tightly to something sturdy, but the train skidded dangerously along the tracks, the
icy rails threatening to derail them completely.

“Got a bit of a wollop, the lad has, eh Becky?” Warshire said unnecessarily.

“Call me that again, Warshire, and I’ll-“

“If he keeps this up, we’ll run over him,” Ron muttered seriously as he balanced himself.
Hermione watched him warily. He said that as if that was nothing important. Sol reached up
and grabbed the front of Warshire’s robes, his temper building.

“What the fuck do you mean ‘controlling the Snow storm’? I have never heard of a spell like
that!” Sol argued, cursing once again in frustration.

“Yeah? Well me neither. But I saw her, she’s right here on the omnoculars: take a look…” he
offered it to Sol. Rebecca grabbed it first and put it to her eyes.

“What on earth?” she questioned what she was seeing right before her eyes. Sol reached to
grab it from her, and put it to his face. He was running back the recording a few minutes,
trying to locate the person in the storm. There was another distinctive shout- and all of
them braced for the impact, but the sudden skidding and lurching was a bit late in coming.
After what seemed like nothing was going to happen, there was an deafening BANG! The
front section jumped off the rails, this new attempt ten times stronger than before. The
entire train rocked violently, the lights flickering off and on numerous times, and students
once again screamed in fear. All five of them yelled as they bounced around the control
carriage then tumbled haphazardly to the floor. After a few seconds of recuperating from
painful whiplash, the party in the front carriage realized that they were indeed coming to a
final halt. Warshire found himself on top of Rebecca Lestrange, a stupid grin on his face. He
looked lovingly into her deep purple eyes.

“What I wouldn’t give…” he began, a wicked smile on his face. She shoved him off.

“There are kids about! Plus you are married! Where’s your professionalism?” she snarled
between gritted teeth. Sol ignored them, and was the first to look outside.

“Guys, would you look at that-” Sol breathed, his breath caught. Hermione shot up and
looked outside. The whole engine was derailed, the nose of the Hogwarts express pointing
at nearly a forty-five degree angle. There was something moving, a massive shadow was
playing on the side of the train. Hermione was the first to scream.
A huge snake, bigger than any she has ever seen, was lodged in front of the train, the top
of its head braced against the steam engine. Its powerful body was zigzagging between the
uprights of the bridge support, wedging itself firmly in place. Harry’s wand was smoking, his
entire body almost covered in snow. She peered at Harry, there was a pulsing light in his
eyes, visible even though he was still fifty metres away. Hermione wanted to race outside,
but Ron held her back.

“Are you crazy? Do you see the size of that snake?!”

He raced alongside the huge snake, jumping on top of his patterned body to clear where he
could not pass. After clambering up the winding six-foot-high torso a couple of times, he
came up at the front of the train where Shalingini’s nose was almost touching the tracks.
The large ebony eyes were fierce in their determination, and dark red blood oozed down
from the top of his head.

“Are you all right, Shalingini?” Harry asked the huge beast, patting his nose. “Sorry about
that,” he apologized.

[ No apologies are necessary, young Harry. It is but a mere scratch. I am happy to have
helped save lives, instead of take them away. But for now, I must rest. I will be waiting for
when next you need my assistance, noble master. Fare thee well. ] And with that, the huge
snake set back down the engine gently unto the tracks. Harry grimaced at the large wound
on the top of Shalingini’s head, but the snake merely winked at him. Harry bowed his head
in respect, and the snake slithered off the bridge, diving into the water far below with a
tremendous splash. The Snake God disappeared under the waters, and was gone. The blood
slowly vanished, and Harry inspected the train. There was a huge dent in the center of the
engine; but fortunately, it was only superficial damage. Without further ado he boarded the
train, his cloak covered with snow.

There was a loud roar and a round of applause at his efforts, but Harry ignored it, and went
directly to the front.

“We’re dealing with an unknown Elemental. It’s very likely she’s a Torrentia Magi.
DeFontaine, Warshire, you are to begin producing as many Portkeys as you can. You have
the head count?” he nodded. “Excellent, work out the maths and start making them, about
twelve per portkey should do it. Any sign of trouble, you are to take them to safety, starting
with the youngest students as priority then go up. Lestrange, come with me. Your expertise
is in Assassination? Here's the plan: circle from the back- using whatever means necessary.
Here-” he offered her his Cloak of the Order of the Phoenix. “It’ll help keep you warm. Do
not attack until I finish negotiate with her, or give the signal.”

“What about you?” she asked, donning it around her already heavy cloak. The other two
were still staring at him, quite dumbstruck by that Snake.

“Don’t worry about me, I’ve endured worse.” Harry gave the two men an irritated look. “Is
there anything else?” he snapped. “Get to it.”

“Aye, Commander,” and they hustled back down the train. Ron’s eyes grew huge. Was he
actually ordering them around? Harry jumped out the closest window, immediately followed
by Rebecca Lestrange. She incanted a spell under her breath, then rapped the wand on top
of her head. In a matter of seconds, she had camouflaged completely into her surroundings
using the Disillusionment hex. Harry trotted off into the fierce snow, his wand shining
brightly with his Lumos spell.

Ron watched him run off, silently soaking it all in. The train, the snake, those Auror guys,
everything. What was he really trying to prove? All that ‘training’ he had done over the
holidays- useless. He glanced at the wand in his hand. Did it make any sense? Will he ever
get as strong as him?

***************

Harry’s footsteps crunched against the hard packed snow under his feet. Just a little more,
and he should be able to see the person. His cheeks stung against the biting hailstones
raining down on him. This was one hell of a magical spell. Who could be conjuring this?

“You like it, don’t you?” a female voice called from in front of him. Harry squinted, and
made out the form of a woman in the middle of the train tracks.

“Who are you?” he screamed, his body slowly going numb.

“ I am one of the chosen four. You will call me Lady Andromeda,” she said haughtily.

“What are you doing here, Andromeda?” Harry bellowed against the howling wind. “What do
you want with that train?”

“We want the Fire Summoner back- and,” she said sweetly.

“The Fire-? He’s not on that train, why in hell did you set this trap? Do you know how many
lives you could have taken?” Harry asked her, using his wand to see through the whirling
snow.

“We know he’s not on the train, but our initial plan was already set in motion. There was a
secondary objective here, I was also ordered to test your ability Harry, isn’t that obvious?”
she laughed at him.

“Who ordered you?” Harry asked, even though he could take a good guess. “ Was it Logan
Ash?”

“My my, on our toes aren’t we?” Lady Andromeda asked. “Why did you put yourself in peril
for the train? Why didn’t you fight me head on? You knew I was here. Face me like a true
man. ”

“I solemnly vowed to protect everyone on that train. They come first,” Harry declared. In
this storm, Rebecca would have no clue if he gave her a signal or not. This plan wasn’t
going as well as he thought it would. He would have to face her alone. “Give yourself up,
you have failed. Do not make me hurt you.”

“Hurt me?” she giggled. “Quite the hero, aren’t we?” Jacqueline laughed. “Very well, you
can die a hero-“ With another giggle she clapped her hands once and shouted an
incantation. “Torrentius Llumos Maximus!”

There was a blinding flash from the clouds above and Harry had barely enough time to
throw up a shield spell. The next instant he was flat on his back- he felt as if his whole body
had been run through with a tremendous source of electricity. He screamed uncontrollably,
his body jumping and shaking like a fish out of water. For a brief moment, he thought he
had died and came back to life, so intense was the moment in time. That was the most
powerful spell he has ever succumbed to. His vision had gone completely black, and his
eardrums felt as if they had burst. With his last conscious thought, he knew that this time
he had more than his met match.

Back in the train Ron and Hermione were peering into the thick snow blanketing everything
in sight. There was a flash of lightning, and Hermione bolted straight, almost jumping out of
her robes. “Harry!” Hermione gasped. “Ron- he’s in there! And he’s hurt!” Ron looked
skeptically at that icy cold hell. He weighed his options. Should he do the smart thing and
stay here, and wait for the evacuation, or do something brave and stupid like actually head
in there…

He took one look at Hermione’s face and knew that there never really was any choice to
begin with.

“Come on, let’s go,” he said, and both of them opened the window and jumped down into
the blizzard.

****************

Chapter 15: Confessions

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**CHAPTER 15: Confessions**

Rebecca Lestrange was gasping on all fours, her vision a red haze of colour. She gritted her
teeth through the pain, desperately trying to nullify the effects of that incredible spell. Her
limbs shook uncontrollably, and no matter what she did, she couldn't consciously move her
hand towards her fallen wand. It was a surprise she could fight it so long, feeling her whole
body shutting down with each passing heartbeat. Desperately fighting unconsciousness in
the numbing cold, it was nigh impossible to counter act the paralysis of that near miss
Lightning strike. Her elbows gave way, and her head fell face down into the freezing snow.

Rebecca couldn't really comprehend this sensation. She was about to die; she knew it. Her
senses weren’t responding as they should, soon she would black out; then ultimately freeze
to death. There was one good thing about all of this though. Harry had taken the hit
directly. Which meant; at least this time, she would die alongside her Commander on the
battlefield. Having already been denied the honour once, if this really was her fate, she
would have it no other way. With a slight smile on her lips, she succumbed to the blissful
dark.

....So much for their debut mission as the spanking new S.T.A.R. ‘Elite’.

Ron and Hermione were huddled together, not even straying an arm’s length away. The
snow was so think, if they lost contact for even a second; it was a high possibility that they
would be separated. Hermione was at the moment transfiguring their handkerchiefs into
huge bearskin coats to wear while they trudged knee deep in snow. After a few minutes of
walking, Hermione suddenly grabbed Ron’s arm.
“Ron!” she whispered urgently. Her eyes drifted halfway closed. “I can sense them! Harry’s
in a bad way, but he’s alive- there’s a very powerful aura around the other person,” she
squinted her eyes. “It’s almost blinding white- But I can see her!”

“Her?” Ron gulped. “A chick is doing this? ”

“Yeah, she doesn’t know we’re here though- maybe we can catch her by surprise! I won’t be
able to split my attention between doing this and using my wand-“ her fingers groped down
his side and grabbed his hand. “You’ll need to do it! We may only have on shot at this.
Listen carefully, what’s your most powerful spell?” she asked him, muttering incantations
under her breath. Ron felt a slow warmth creeping up where she touched, and gradually he
could actually feel Hermione channeling her magic through him.

“Er – I know the second tier Reductor curse, I’ll say that is my strongest spell!” he
whispered, feeling quite funny as this strange magic coursed through him.

“I will give you the target, all you got to do is aim,” she said softly, her free hand held out in
front of them, her fingers dancing in the cold wind.

“Aim at what? I can’t see a damn thing!” Ron said, bringing his wand to bear. Ron was
about to question her again when suddenly his vision penetrated the icy gloom. There, in
his minds eye, he could see both of them, Harry on the ground, and a young woman
walking up to him. “Hermione…?” he breathed. “What is this you’re doing? How am I seeing
this?”

“Just do it Ronald! Quickly! ” Hermione said, her breathing becoming more laboured by the
second. “This ..is hard to ..k-keep up!”

Ron nodded, and took aim. It was really far, could he hit her at this distance? His arm
technique had to be perfect, whipping his wand forward a bit to high or a bit too low will
miss her by a good margin, plus it will give away their position. Ron instinctively knew he
couldn’t second-guess himself now, so he took a deep breath and drew back his wand.
Feeling the magic race up from his chest and coil up inside of his arm, he let loose his spell.

“ REDUCTO MAXIMA!” he screamed, snapping his arm forward. In his minds eye, he could
see a flash of energy coursing through the magic-laden snowfall and hailstones, piercing like
an arrow through the thick downpour. A heartbeat later, he saw his curse connect, and the
figure toppled over, the intensity of her magic aura halving almost immediately. He laughed
in triumph.

“We did it!!” he hugged Hermione reflexively, only to realize that she was very unsteady on
her feet. “Hermione!?” he said, shaking her slightly. She tried to focus, her eyes zeroing on
his. “come on- Enervate! ” he said, pointing his wand at her. Her eyes brightened, and she
caught herself. Taking a moment to recognize her surroundings, she turned vaguely in
Harry’s direction.

“ Come on!” she ordered, taking his hand and running into the snow.

“Hermione- I got her, she’s gotta be knocked out if not all broken up inside! That was the
second tier Reductor curse! Don’t panic!” he tried to explain.

“That spell was largely diminished by going through this storm,” she responded, “Plus, it’s
not over yet, why is it still snowing? We’ve got to get him out!”
Ron nodded, and ignited his wand with his Lumos spell. Hand in hand, they sloshed through
the snow as they trekked deeper into the heart of the blizzard

******************

Harry was coming to, his eyes opening slowly as the icy cold penetrated into his skin. For a
moment, it puzzled him that he was actually alive. There was a wheezing sound near his
feet, someone was nearby, and they were also stirring awake. He had to make sure that he
was first- or else his little life extension could be cut short before he had a chance to enjoy
it. The problem was, he was too frozen to even move.

Concentrate Potter. We did this before. Don't fucking whine- JUST DO IT!

With a newfound determination, he forced a spark of fire to burn behind his eyes. Pushing
his magic to the limit, he began to draw upon the sun’s energy to ignite his own Infernus
summoning power. Slowly, but surely, his eyes came alive, flames flaring out the sides. His
face immediately warmed up, and his mouth muscles were once again able to move. With
another quick incantation, his hands ignited, then his arms, the flames now running up his
back and shoulders, then completely covering his body. He lay there, his body encased in
fire as he felt life-giving warmth return. All this while Lady Andromeda was also recovering
from the watered down Reductor curse, slowly getting to her feet. Both adversaries rose at
the same time, and now that she was near, he could vaguely recognize her face. She was
there in Hogwarts during his fourth year- one of the Beauxbatons hopefuls to enter the Tri-
Wizard tournament. Harry distinctively remembered her crying when she wasn’t picked.

“You picked the wrong person to start a fight with,” Harry growled. Right now, he was quite
angry about that Lightning strike. If it weren’t for his shield, he would have been toasted.
He wasn't taking any more chances with her. Harry closed his eyes briefly, and when they
reopened, they were pulsing brightly. His hair came alive, and fortified strength flooded
back into him. Andromeda suddenly felt something strange in the air, a heavy, foreboding
presence, and her entire body became charged with this ominous magic. The pores on her
arms raised noticeably and her eyes widened: What in the world? She straightened
reflexively, only for her abdominal muscles to scream in protest. They were so badly
damaged, it felt as if each and every tendon was strained to the brink of tearing apart.

“You- are you- you’re a summoner as well?” she gasped, wrapping her arms around her
badly damaged midsection. She had never felt pain associated with this degree of physical
damage before. Clutching her stomach, she wavered on her feet, right on the verge of
tears. She couldn't even concentrate to summon a spell. After all of the months of
experimenting, all the torturous weeks in the Chamber of Iralem she had endured to
achieve this power- was for nought. Here she was, a stupid rookie, beaten on her first
mission for Lord Ash. Why did her life take such a horrible turn? Trying her best to save
face, she wobbled on her feet- the harsh reality of her situation sinking in.

In hindsight, did she honestly believe that she could kill the man who defeated He-Who-
Must-Not-Be-Named? Her Ultimate killing spell was created at the speed of light! Logan told
her it was unblockable, and a far more efficient killing spell than the Avada Kedavra! How
could he have survived that attack? Was he immortal? No, it couldn't be- the person she
confronted ten minutes ago was the same boy from the quidditch matches. However, this
being that stood before her was something completely different.
“Who, or what- are you? Tell me! ”

“Silence.”

With a quick forward movement, Harry sunk his left fist deep into her ruptured stomach.
With a painful cry she crumpled, and fell against him. Harry avoided her and easily stepped
out of the way as Andromeda dropped face first into the melting snow. Turning her head
shakily to the side, her eyes met his eerily glowing ones, and a wave of sheer panic
overwhelmed her. She pathetically clawed through the snow, trying to put as much distance
as possible between them. Harry strode purposefully after her and with the underside of his
boot, he kicked her over unto her back. Mercilessly he placed a the sole of his foot against
her throat, squashing any hope of escape. Surveying her petite frame from his high vantage
point, he looked down at her haughtily down the length of his nose- effectively claiming his
victory.

Excellent, young Potter. Yet another Dark wizard conquered...

Her angelic face was now twisted in agony, and when she spoke again, blood trickled out
the side of her lips “Please I..I- I don’t want to die...” she croaked, looking fearfully up at
him. Harry’s face seemed to have softened, and a few moments later he relaxed, removing
his foot from her neck.

“What is your real name, girl?”

“Jac-Jacqueline…” she said hoarsely.

“You beg for your life, yet you were willing to slay all these innocents. You are
worse scum than the cold-hearted killers. They, at least, rather choose death
instead of your pathetic groveling. However, because you are still young,
Jacqueline, I will show favour upon you, and let you live. Stupefy .”

Her eyes went blank for a moment, then soon after passed out cold. The snow gradually
stopped, and the thick storm clouds dispersed shortly afterwards. Pointing his wand at the
still figure of Rebecca Lestrange who lay motionless a short distance behind him, he brought
her body to his feet using the Summoning Charm. Placing her next to Jacqueline, Harry
once again pointed his wand and levitated the both of them together. Ron and Hermione
were deathly still, watching that little conversation unfold with a trace of genuine fear in
their eyes.

“Harry, “ Hermione said anxiously. He approached, and gave her a brief one-handed hug.
He released her quickly, glancing once in Ron’s direction. There was a moment of
recognition in his eyes, and Harry gave him the slightest nod of thanks.

“Come on, we could still make it before supper if we get this train back on schedule,” he
said light-heartedly. Too light-heartedly in Ron's opinion. Hermione wanted to question him,
but Ron once again held her back.

“Hermione, give him a second,’ Ron said softly. “Don’t talk to him right now, he’s in that
mood of his….” Hermione nodded, and both of them slowly trudged back to the train. They
saw Harry hand over the Ice witch to Warshire, who immediately conjured manacles and
silenced her just to be sure, while DeFontaine took Rebecca into his arms and darted inside.
Harry paused in front of the derailed engine. He stood there for a moment or two, pointed
his wand, and amazingly, lifted the entire thing off the tracks. With careful precision, he
dropped it with a loud CLANG back unto the rails, making sure that the tracks were once
again in line.

“Come on, you two,” he said nonchalantly. “Don’t be worried, this is what we are here to
do. It's just another day at the office,” and with another shaky smile, he entered the train.

******************

Rebecca Lestrange opened her eyes slowly; a fearful Sol DeFontaine and Steven Warshire
hovering like two mother hens over her. “That was a close one, eh Becky?” Warshire smiled.
Rebecca felt so beaten up she let that one slide. She took in her surroundings; she was back
on the train. And as she blinked once or twice to get her bearings she realized that it was
moving steadily once again. Her eyes alighted on the young woman on the other bed,
encased in a faintly glowing stasis charm.

“What happened? What about the commander? Is he alive?!” she asked, quickly trying to sit
up. As she did so, both legs cramped so painfully she let out a yelp of pain. Both strapping
men began to coo over her once again.

“Lay still, Lestrange, the rejuvenation Potion will take some time to work. Yeah, Potter is
okay. It was a fucking good thing he went easy on us- eh, Warshire?”

“Aye,” Warshire agreed.

'Went easy'? As far as she remembered, he totally humiliated all of them in front of Kingsley
himself. She also distinctly remembered the two men going to the pub and getting plastered
that night to forget all about it. She, on the other hand, had a bit of self-searching to do
that night. After all the grueling training, all the hard nights of practice- plus the many
missions she completed as a specialist for the Department of Mysteries; all of it came
crashing down in those few minutes. Was she really that weak? Or was the Potter boy on a
completely different level?

“What do you mean, easy on you?” Rebecca asked, still wincing in pain.

“When he dragged you and the Elemental witch in and saw all of us still here, he got pretty
fucking angry.”

“You should have seen it, Becky- he was livid. He wanted all of us gone from here the
moment something went wrong. He didn’t care that the girl was defeated or not. He wanted
the kids miles away from here the moment he didn’t immediately resolve the situation,”
Warshire said.

“Where is he now?” Rebecca asked.

“He’s on top, blowing off some steam,” Sol answered, pointing at the roof. “Remind me not
to get on his PMS side ever again,” he joked.

“I’m going to talk to him,” Rebecca said, and got up.

“Hey, it’s your funeral. Don’t say we didn’t warn you,” Warshire responded, chomping down
on a chocolate frog. He laughed again, and Rebecca left the medical compartment, heading
to the access ladder on the last carriage.

*****************

“Commander?” she called out to him, her hair flying loose in the wind. He did not initially
respond. “Harry?”

“What is it, Lestrange?” he said coolly.

“I rather you call me Rebecca,” she said cheerfully, sitting down cross-legged next to him.

“Lestrange is your last name isn’t it?” Harry said softly, not looking at her.

“I hate that name.”

“So?” Harry said. “I hate being the boy who lived, but I got over that a long time ago.”

“Did you? Did you really?”

“What is it you want, agent Lestrange?” Harry spat. Rebecca pointed downwards.

“Why don’t you talk to them? Aren’t they your friends?”

“I’m working right now.”

“Is your work more important than your friends?”

“Were you not in the middle of a combat situation a couple of hours ago? Do you think I
could just go and have some fun and chat merrily when these things just ‘happen’ out of
nowhere? Do you think that this is what I like to do? Brood and stay away from everyone?”
Harry’s temper was on the rise.

“You could have fooled me. Isn’t that exactly what you are doing?”

“Yeah, I guess I am aren’t I? Well maybe I do like to do this! That’s my business! But that
doesn’t answer what it is you want from me,” he snarled.

“I wanted to check on you.”

“Look-“ he held out his hands and inspected his arms and the back of his knuckles. “Not a
scratch. I’m fine.”

“Come off it, Potter. You were struck by lightning. You should be dead. I nearly died. And I
wasn’t anywhere close to it.”

“That wasn’t real lightning. That was magic-created lightning. There’s a difference.”

“You love being difficult don’t you? There’s someone down there who would love to spend a
moment with you, and you’re just being stubborn,” Rebecca said evenly.

“I take it you’ve met Hermione…” Harry sighed. “How is she taking all of this?”
“I’m not sure. Why don’t you ask her yourself?”

“I’m scared to see the look in her face. I tried to cover it up, but she saw it.”

“Saw what?”

“What happens when I start to fight.”

“What do you mean?” Rebecca enquired.

“Has it ever occurred to you why I am now your Field commander? Did you ever question
Kingsley about it?”

“A soldier is a tool used for war. We don’t question orders,” Rebecca replied automatically.

“Spoken like a true puppet," Harry laughed scornfully. "When we head back to London, ask
Kingsley to show you why I am your new field commander. Let him explain why all these
attacks seem to home in to me. Then come back and ask me what you want to know.”

“Oh spare me with the cryptic speech. Just cut out the bloody riddles and open your damn
mouth and speak English.”

“My reputation has multiplied unto itself over the years. Right now, I could go and live in a
cave underwater and I’ll still have to watch my back. Did you hear what that girl said before
she tried to kill me?”

“No…”

“Their main target was not the train, neither any of the students on it. Do you know what
they wanted? They wanted Malfoy, but as he’s not here, they decided to go ahead and ‘test
my abilities’. Of all the stupid reasons to try and kill a few hundred kids, it was to see if I
really had any ‘abilities’! Same thing happened to me in Italy once. Then Karkaroff the other
day. And you know what happened to those people? I wiped them off the face of the planet-
easily. Do you know how that feels?”

“Well not really,” she responded. “Being efficient is a bonus in this line of work. But that
doesn’t explain why you won’t talk to Hermione.” Harry froze. Did she not hear what he just
said?

“So now you’re on her side?”

“Well yeah, it’s better than being on yours!”

“Fuck you, then.”

“Oh that’s so grown up of you,” she smirked. “You’re cute when you’re all angst ridden like
this.”

“You have a strange perception of things for someone who was nearly killed a little while
ago…”

“Hey, sometimes it happens. We’re all okay now aren’t we?” she nudged him playfully with
her elbow.
This time Harry looked at her slowly, his expression incredulous. “You’re insane.”

“It runs in the family…” she sighed dramatically. They both sat there for a short while,
letting the breeze tug at their robes during the comfortable silence.

“You know, I’ve heard that saying all the time, but I never really thought about it. My father
had a knack for getting in trouble. Including this uncontrollable mop of hair and some skill
at quidditch; it seems that I have taken up that troublemaker trait and multiplied it tenfold.
Must just be my dumb luck to also be cursed from the ‘most powerful dark wizard of our
time’,” he said sarcastically, using his fingers to ‘make’ inverted commas. There was
another long, silent pause.

“So, do you really think I should go down and talk to her?” he asked quietly.

“Absolutely!” And for the first time in a long while, Rebecca Lestrange genuinely smiled.
Harry looked at her face, and without even realizing, he smiled back.

******************

Down in the cabins the entire talk was about what had happened with the whole ice queen
thing. Stories grew fast and tales scaled mountains with the numerous exaggerations that
kept piling up on one another. The back door to the train opened again, and both Harry and
Rebecca came inside. Harry came up to Sol and Warshire, and shook each of their hands
briefly.

“Good job guys, forget the little scene earlier. I lost my cool.”

“Already forgotten, come and grab a drink with us after. We’re going to the Hogshead for a
round,” Warshire offered.

“Had a rough first day huh? We know exactly how you feel. We also had a rough day with
our first babysitting mission,” Sol added with a smirk.

“Yeah. Still, you guys kept your heads on through everything, I blew up at the first little
thing. I’ll check you back on that offer. Later, then,” he nodded, then walked off. He could
have sworn he heard Sol chuckle under his breath- “Facing a storm queen in a blizzard is a
‘little thing’ for our new cap’n! Can’t wait to see what he thinks is a ‘big’ thing ….”

He ignored that last comment as he trudged down the corridor. He walked steadily to the
regular compartment he was accustomed to sitting in, and froze outside the doorway, still
not wanting to face her. However, he forgot that he couldn't really procrastinate with being
indecisive. The moment he came down, it was inevitable she knew he was there.

“Come in, Harry, you can’t hide from us, especially me.” Harry had to admit, he was being a
coward. Almost grudgingly, he opened the doorway.

“Hey.’

“Hey,” Luna answered. Ron, Ginny and Hermione failed to answer. They were watching his
uniform.

“Harry, you didn’t tell me you were now S.T.A.R. elite. I thought you were still training,”
Hermione said quizzically.

“He’s not just in it, he’s the Commander, “ Ron said scathingly. Harry’s temper flared again.

“Shut up, Ron,” he said angrily.

“Don’t tell me to shut up, Harry, ” Ron retorted, his whole body tensing. Ginny shot Harry a
nasty look. Luna looked mildly interested, looking over the latest Quibbler. Her eyes
returned to the magazine, but she pointed with one hand at something on the back of his
robes.

“You're bleeding,” she said airily, her eyes still on the magazine. Ginny gasped as she saw
the dark wet streaks across his back .

"Shit, oh no, they reopened," he grumbled softly, reaching around to touch the raw whip
lashes. He flinched at the contact, but only after a few seconds the pain began to ease.
“What the?” He looked over to Hermione, who now was suddenly looking very much in a
daze. Huh? Oh no- the Leglimency spell- she was still doing it!

Get out! he shouted mentally and Hermione snapped awake. Touching his back again, he
flinched as the pain came back- she had stopped the healing. “Hermione... can I have a
word with you?” Harry knew she was doing it on purpose; she was really stubborn
sometimes, even though he was trying his best to look out for her.

Hermione bit her lip guiltily. “We can talk here,” she said hesitantly. Harry raised an
eyebrow. With a huff, she looked up at him- she knew he wasn’t in a mood to argue. She
got up reluctantly but nearly toppled back down the moment she got to her feet. Ginny
braced her up, and Hermione shakily followed him out. He led them both into the control
room, his hand running though his hair in frustration.

“Hermione, you’ve got to stop this healing spell you do. I don’t need it. I heal pretty fine by
myself.”

“If I can assist, why shouldn’t I? Isn’t that what people who love each other do- help one
other?”

“Hermione you get very sick when you try this, and you know that. I would have treated
them myself.”

“Stop being the tough guy, it hurt a lot and you know it!” she countered. Harry sighed.

“That doesn’t justify you being sent into a coma!”

“A coma? I was asleep for a few days! That isn’t a coma!”

“That’s not the point! Don’t fight my battles! This is not what I wanted for you- I wanted
you away from the danger, not getting into the thick of it!”

“Oh please- What about today-would you rather Ron and I have left you to die?” she spat.

“I can take care of myself!” he said stubbornly.

“Fine then!” Hermione cried.

“Fine!”

They fumed at each other for a few seconds. Harry couldn’t believe he was actually arguing
with her. He wanted to have a nice relaxed conversation, maybe talk about the holidays, his
new job, everything. So much for that. Hermione folded her arms and refused to look at
him.

“Where were you at Christmas??!” Hermione screamed suddenly. Harry avoided her hurt
expression, rubbing the back of his head guiltily.

“I- I – was busy.”

“Busy? Busy with what?”

“Work.”

“Don’t you lie to me Harry.”

“I’m not lying,” Harry lied.

“You’re lying. I’m an occlumens. I can tell, remember?”

“So?” Harry argued. Hermione was the first one to be rational about the whole thing.

“Harry- this- this bickering, this is not us. What happened after – well, after I passed out
that night?”

“Noth-” he began, but Hermione gave him a fierce look. “You don’t want to know, and I
don’t want to tell you.”

“Yes I do!”

“You won’t want to hear this, I’m telling you…”

“Try me-“ she dared.

“Okay, here it is- I summoned the Grim and scared Karkaroff to death. Happy?” Harry spat.
Hermione was dumbstruck. She definitely wasn’t expecting that. That’s why Ron was so –
so- edgy Christmas morning- that little black puppy… Hermione had to really let that soak
in. Choosing her words carefully, she began to talk slowly and clearly as if it would make
proper sense if spoken that way.

“Harry, what you’re telling my is that you summoned the Omen of death, and made it kill
Karkaroff…”

“Yes.”

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” Hermione had to ask this once again.

“No, I’m bluffing you Hermione,” Harry said sarcastically. He groaned in frustration. “Do you
think I will lie about something like this?”
“Harry, what you’re talking about is using death itself as a weapon. You do realize what it is
you’re saying right?” Hermione asked again, her facial expression changing. Harry looked at
her face, and it showed more than words could ever say. It almost ate him up inside, that
expression. Hermione was scared of him. It had to be. She never looked at him that way
before- just like how Ron had looked after he told him how he killed Karkaroff.

“I need some air. I’ll talk to you later,” he said abruptly and left the carriage. Hermione
chased after him into the next one but as Harry opened the exiting door he slammed it shut
behind him with a flick of his wrist. Hermione tried to open it, but the door was magically
locked. Taking out her wand, she pointed it towards the handle. ”Alohomora!” It clicked
obediently and she opened it, only to see Harry’s legs disappear up the service ladder all the
way at the end of the train.

Harry sat alone once again on the train, grabbing the roots his hair with both hands. He
knew she would ask him about that night. Why couldn't she have just left it alone? Right
now his love life was crumbling all about him. She could never ever look at him the same
way. He pulled on his hair, trying to force himself to think. What was he going to do? He
needed to find a way to make everything all right again. Running his hands through his
overlong hair he cursed fluently, unconsciously picking up Sol’s bad habit. He should have
never listened to Rebecca!

“Fuckin’ hell!”

***************************

Chapter 16: Shades of Grey

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**CHAPTER 16: Shades Of Grey**

It was late.

“Where the hell did you disappear to, Lestrange?” Macnair grumbled to himself.

He sat there in the small house in Surrey, sipping on coffee and watching out the window.
His headsman axe was propped against the wall, the blade glinting in the twilight sunset. He
had sharpened it relentlessly the whole day, so much that the magical weapon cut straight
through his flint stone, nearly severing his hand in two. Finally giving it up, he put aside his
blade, then summoned the kettle of coffee towards him. This feeling disturbed him. He had
never come close to cutting himself before. Why was Rodulphus’ sudden disappearance
affecting him so?

Without warning the door opened and Rodulphus Lestrange strode in, his cloak drenched
and spotted with snow. Macnair almost jumped, but he recovered swiftly.

“Finally. Went on a skiing trip?“ Macnair asked, raising an eyebrow at the snow on his
shoulders.

“Ooh- I went out for a bit. Had a blast actually,” Lestrange ran a hand through his wet hair,
shaking his head like a drenched dog. As normally as if he were now coming back from
another tedious day at the office, he hung up his Death Eater’s cloak and placed his mask
on the counter, opening the magic cooler box to take out a Cristal Fire Heineken blend.

“What? For the whole day?”

“Oh- I think a couple years is good enough for Bella. I need a new wife. I went bride
shopping today, and guess who I saw? In fact, guess two people I saw today that I was
definitely not expecting to see!” Lestrange grinned, cracking open his drink with a pop!

“Enlighten me.” Knowing his weapon well, he hefted it with one hand, twirling it about his
wrist as he flung it into the corner. It bounced once on the tip of the handle, flipped over,
and secured itself with the blade sunk deep into wooden wall.

“Nice!” Rodulphus commended his skill. “Come on- take a guess. I’m sure you’ll get it on
your first shot-“ Rodulphus eyes glinted merrily. That obsessive look was one Macnair had
seen many times before.

“Potter?!” Macnair hissed.

“You are correct! Not only Potter, but also dear sister, my lovely Becky, as well…” Lestrange
laughed, slapping his thigh in mirth as he drained his first swig. Without warning, he swung
his boot, and kicked up Macnair’s axe into the air. Macnair froze as it did a couple
somersaults in the small room. He bowled over his chair in his haste to avoid the deadly
flipping edge.

“What the fuck- WATCH IT!” he shouted as the huge weapon came arcing down. With
almost a lazy air, Rodulphus dug into his robes and pulled out a rosy apple. Sitting down
abruptly, he slammed the apple down on the table with a flourish, holding it between his
thumb and middle finger. The huge blade arced straight down and cut the apple exactly in
two- the handle still quivering as the razor sharp edge lodged into the thick wood. Macnair’s
eyes bulged in amazement and near horror. This man couldn’t be serious… Rodulphus bit
into one of the halves, absolutely relishing the juiciness of his freshly cut apple. He grinned,
and threw the other half to Macnair.

“Come, sit, and hear my tale. Have a seat, my dear chap, and prepare to be enlightened of
my day.” Macnair took his seat warily, and bit into the apple. He had to admit, it was
delicious. However, having a conversation with a huge axe bisecting the table was a bit
absurd. “Now, as I was saying, I decided to go bride shopping today. Thinking the best
place would obviously be at Hogwarts, I decided to kidnap the train driver and use some of
this-” out of nowhere he produced a bottle of “Quick’n’Easy” Polyjuice potion from his
sleeve. “Ho hum, I put the good man into a little sleepy sleep, transform and then- minding
my own business (I was now taking my morning coffee_- when, guess what? Out of the
fucking blue none other than Harry Potter himself approaches me. And look at this- he’s
already in some special Auror division to boot!” Rodulphus cackled again, chomping down
merrily on his half of an apple.

Macnair’s eyes grew huge. “You’re serious?”

“So we sit down there for about say, fifteen minutes, talking about the new train and he
asks me some questions about some trivial nonsense. I sidetracked him by keep asking for
his autograph for my daughter, and he eventually got irritated by all the Quidditch talk-“
Rodulphus laughed again. “-The fool. He shakes my hand before I board the train, shouting
the last call for Hogwarts, (as I presumed that’s all what the conductor’s job consists of)
there’s nothing much to do, really.”
“You mean to tell me you sat and had a conversation with him?” Macnair asked
incredulously. “Shook his hand?” Rodulphus just cackled once more.

“Sure, he offered it, so I took it! Anyhow, a few minutes later my dear sister, you remember
her, fine body, gorgeous eyes, banging hips- the works-“ Macnair cringed at his mate’s
blatant sexual overtures towards his sister. This man had absolutely no scruples.

“-Steps in, looking quite the ‘Elite’ with her red scarf and cloak. Daddy would have been
proud. And remember Steve and Sol? Old man Moody’s two hit men? They were there as
well; apparently they’ve grown soft since Moody forcibly retired.” Rodulphus snickered at his
own little joke. “However, I digress. Moving merrily along, I scoped out the young
prospects. Quite delectable- this year’s crop. Oh- which reminds me- I saw your little
mudblood fetish - what was her name? Granger was it? Looking very much the grown up
now that you mention it, she and her little squeaky red haired friend. Now, that’s where the
good part comes in- there’s this fine looking bitch, I mean witch- she’s fit and ripe for the
picking. She has the- what shall I say? The air of royalty about her, the essence of woman,
the blossoming fruit of youth, a wand tucked behind her ear, the temperament of an angel
and the smile of a horny she devil…”

Macnair laughed. “Who is she?’

“A girl named Luna Lovegood. Even her name has a ring to it- I can see it now, Luna
Lestrange…fine fitting for a new bride and one to bear me many children….” Rodulphus
sighed.

“Well, why isn’t she here? I’m sure you could have taken her-“

“I could, but I forgot to tell you that Ash mentioned something about a new elemental
popping up sometime- but alas, when I was on the train I remembered a bit too late that he
had a little surprise for Dumbledore that same day. What he did not take into consideration
was the fact that instead of Dumbledore - Potter himself was escorting the train. With him
around I knew that things were going to get hectic, so I made a wise retreat. As expected,
he took matters into his own hands. I tried to tell Logan time and again, but does he listen?
The fool. That boy is impossibly hard to kill, sort of like me.” Rodulphus leant forward
suddenly, his tone dead serious. “I believe that’s quite a few times I have mentioned his
name in a sitting haven’t I? We really need to do something about him. How goes the
muggle?”

“The Depression spell is taking a long time. Too much adrenaline from the bombs he’s been
blowing up I must say. The Dursley boy is not nearly demented enough to approach openly
on this matter. I think we should use the emotion nullifying potion- the Essence of Muriad, ”
Macnair advised.

“Bah! That takes out the fun- he will be like a dumb robot. That is not what we want. We
want him brimming full of hate. Only then can he face his dear cousin head on and be
victorious.” Rodulphus thought for a second. “ I know what we’ll do. Kill his father. Get
some of Potter’s hair and use the remainder of my Polyjuice brew- should have some in the
fridge. Make sure he sees you do it in broad daylight, and make sure that you pull of a
convincing job portraying a revenge-driven nephew.”

“Kill his father? My pleasure…. but if it is to be convincing, what about getting Potter’s hair?
You expect me to simply ask him for some?”
“Hmmmm…” Rodulphus leaned back, propping up his boots on the table. He thought for a
moment. “Excellent plan, Macnair. Ask him- If not, well… just come back alive so that we
won’t miss that tennis date we have scheduled this weekend. I can’t believe we lost three
times in succession!” Rodulphus face turned dead serious. He dramatically jumped to his
feet, his eyes alive with a demonic fervor. He slammed his hand down on the table and the
coffee kettle began to boil as his magic accumulated to a fever pitch.

“I AM GOING TO BEAT THOSE TWO MUGGLES IN DOUBLES FAIR AND SQUARE EVEN IF IT’S
THE LAST FUCKING THING I DO! IN VOLDEMORT’S NAME, THIS I SWEAR!!”

After a few seconds of the lights flickering and cupboard doors banging open and slamming
shut, he calmly took back his seat.

“Which reminds me, I have to work on my backstroke-…” Lestrange rubbed a kink in his
shoulder, practicing a mock tennis swing. “By the way- Potter has taken Igor’s Snake God
Summoning spell. Don’t ask me how, but he did. Oh- and one more thing, do me a favor:
we need some more apples,” Rodulphus reminded him, chomping down on the remaining
piece in his hand.

“Er- I’ll go run down and get them now.” Macnair gulped in trepidation, these outbursts
were highly dangerous, and any mention of apples reminded him of the guy he exploded a
while back. He got to his feet carefully grabbed his jacket then left the house, heading down
to the nearest grocery. However, he was definitely making sure he kept an eye on
Lestrange until was way clear of his killing radius.

********************

Harry spent the rest of the journey laying flat on his back on top of the train, his fingers
locked behind his head. By the time they reached Hogsmeade, night had already fallen. Sol
and the others were overseeing the boarding of the threstral carriages up to Hogwarts, but
Harry wanted a bit more time to himself. When the student traffic dwindled to only a few,
he reversed the Densify spell and jumped down to the platform.

“Commander, what about the prisoner?” Rebecca Lestrange came up to his side.

“Use the Disillusionment hex and take her to the dungeons in Hogwarts. There’s a wizard
there that I will need to speak with,” Harry replied. Rebecca looked at him closely; he once
again retreated into his personal shell. Obviously the talk did not go well.

“What about miss Granger?”

Harry stiffened. “What about her?”

“Well… How did it go?” she said hesitantly.

“We have work to do. Let’s go,” Harry said abruptly. “Warshire, you and DeFontaine escort
her- we’ll take these last two carriages. Remember, she’s not to be seen.” Harry strode off
to one of the remaining carriages, his head full of turmoil. Rebecca followed him in, and only
when he opened the door and both of them were about to enter did he realize that it was
not empty. He stopped abruptly, Rebecca bumping into him from behind.
“What is it?” she asked, looking over his shoulder. Hermione was sitting in the carriage,
obviously waiting for him. The two women’s eyes touched, and there was a mutual
challenge between them. Lestrange smiled secretly. She loved challenges.

“Hey,” Hermione said softly to Harry. “Come on, it’s getting dark,” she beckoned him inside.
Harry got in, and to his surprise Rebecca came in after him. He scooted over, and both
women flanked his sides. With a soft click, Rebecca shut the door and the carriage began to
move steadily up to Hogwarts.

“Thanks for saving one for us,” Rebecca said, indicating the carriage. Hermione nodded
briefly, she couldn’t tell if the auror was sincere or not, but she really wanted a little time
alone with him. Her presence surely put a wrench in those plans. She hated when Harry got
into this mood. He closed himself up, and allowed no one in. They rode silently for half of
the journey, Rebecca looking fixedly out of the window, Harry staring forward, and
Hermione shooting worried looks at him from time to time. After the unbearable tense
silence, Rebecca decided to break the deadlock.

“So, Hermione- I heard you have a talent for Occlumency and Divine summoning I hear?”

“You did? Who told you that?” Hermione looked at Harry crossly. Harry ignored the both of
them.

“Tonks did. She’s a friend of mine. You know she’s having her first baby in June?- Harry’s
the godfather,” she said as a matter of fact. As soon as did, she knew she had made a
mistake. Hermione twisted so she was facing Harry directly, and he had no choice but to
look at her. Saying she was a tad irritated was an understatement.

“Harry, they asked you to be their baby’s godfather? First this new job, then a huge Snake
spell, now this? Anything else you’d like to tell me?’ she hissed.

“Not really,” Harry said softly.

“ Not really? What sort of answer is that?” she demanded. Harry just dipped his eyes a bit,
and looked out the window. Rebecca was finding it difficult not to feel sorry for him.

“He’s had a rough day Hermione, leave him alone,” Rebecca said lightly.

“Excuse me, I don’t want to sound rude, but who are you?” Hermione glared at her.

“My name is Rebecca,” she smiled, offering her hand. Hermione took it and shook it once in
a businesslike manner. If Harry was paying any attention, he would have seen the sparks
fly. Instead he leant forward to look out the window to make sure that the other carriage
was following them. Hermione folded her arms and huffed, not looking at either of them.
Rebecca only smiled a knowing smile, innocently scrutinizing her hands. Deciding to zone
out for a while, Harry laid his head back and closed his eyes. Finally the carriage stopped
inside of Hogwarts’ grounds, and all three of them filed out.

“All right, Harry?” Hagrid beamed. Harry did not even seem to hear him, or notice him for
that matter. He walked briskly towards DeFontaine, nodding at the levitating person behind
him.

“I want her treated as soon as we’re inside. First, owl Kingsley and give him the report.
While you do that,” he looked at Rebecca meaningfully, “I have a proposition to make, and
after that, I’m leaving the prisoner in your hands: Warshire, you’ll conduct the
interrogation. Use Veritaserum, the Cruciatus, whatever it takes, get the information she
knows on a man named Logan Ash. Lestrange, in your post ask him when Professor
Dumbledore and Professor Lupin are to return, I will need to speak with them about these
new elementals emerging…” he cut himself off.

“Harry?” Hermione walked up behind him, trying her best not to seem too bothersome. The
male Aurors gave her a ‘don’t disturb us look’ but dare not say anything just in case they
ticked their temperamental leader off. There was a tense moment when the two men
expected Harry to brush her off, but on the other hand; the two girls expected him to give
her his undivided attention. Hermione’s eyes shifted nervously. However, the battle was
already won before it began. Harry ran his hands through his hair and nodded at his
teammates. Without further instructions they made their way into the castle.

“Er- hey,” Harry said, now that the two of them were alone. She seemed to be expecting
something. He didn’t know what to say to her. Everything was so bizarre.

Hermione smiled, took his hand in hers, and began to walk up the slope to the castle doors.
Her hand felt warm and alive, so small and feminine in his. The night was on them, and
Hermione slowed her pace so that it felt more like a leisurely stroll in the dark. Harry kicked
a pebble along as they walked, trying his best not to let things get to him. Hermione stayed
quiet, but took his arm in between hers, resting her head on his shoulder as they walked.

“I missed you.”

Harry said nothing, but gave the top of her head a glance.

“I was really looking forward to spending Christmas with you,” she said softly.

“I...I know that. It just wasn’t possible at the time.”

“Are you really their boss?” she laughed softly.

“No, I’m their Squad Captain. There are two people on top of me.”

“Oh really? Who is that?” she asked.

“Diggory and Kingsley.” There was another few steps of silence.

“Harry, if I were to give you an order, will you listen?” Hermione asked softly.

“What is it?”

“I want you to trust me,” she said, the emotion evident in her voice. “Just like I trust you.”

“I trust you!” he said immediately,

“Do you, do you really?”

Harry thought back to that conversation he had with Lestrange top the train: “ I hate being
the boy who lived, but I got over that a long time ago. ” Hermione had replied in the same
exact way as she did, as if he was only saying that but didn’t really mean it. Did he really
trust Hermione?

“I do.”

“Well, I want to let you know that you haven’t been displaying that trust recently. Trust me
to be your confidant. Trust me to be your friend. Trust me as I trust you to protect all of us.
Harry, can’t you see? We’re no longer kids anymore. Things are different, we were best
friends, but now we’re also lovers. We’re a couple now. I want to make you happy, and I
won’t just leave you because things are shaky in the world around us. I don’t want to be
shut out and pushed on the side- that’s what hurts the most. Don’t put me through that
again.”

“It’s not so easy-“

“Oh bosh! Yes it is! Just open your mouth when you feel to talk, that’s all. When you need
me, I will always be here.”

Harry once again went silent. He had a huge question to ask her, but he needed to know
something first.

“Do you believe in fate? Destiny?”

“Well, if you’re talking about the divination aspect, of course not. But I do think things
happen for a reason.”

“What if I were to tell you that I am afraid every day, every night?”

“Afraid of what?”

“Of losing you. Of not knowing when another psycho is going to come after us. If I’m going
to live through the next day. Or If something is going to happen to Ron, or Ginny, or any of
our friends for that matter. Hermione, I don’t sleep at night anymore. I have to knock
myself out with a sleeping draught. It’s a scary feeling.”

“I know it’s scary, but we can’t let fear rule us.”

“Yeah, some people can say that...”

“Why do you say that?”

“My life is different. I’m not fooling myself into thinking that ‘The Boy who lived” can be
‘normal’. Can’t you see? This-” he gestured at his robes, then the both of them together- “
is not normal- I can’t lead a quiet life- I tried. It’s either one of two choices- face the
dangers- be alert to what’s around me, or..or..” he trailed off. He paused, and looked deep
into her eyes. “But I want something more than that for you, something more than the
sleepless nights, something more than the constant paranoia. Hermione, I want you to
enjoy living and keep the ugly matters for those who are – well, y’know- er, trained for this
type of thing. Dumbledore gave me some really good advice when I left Hogwarts”– he
paused, his last day clear in his tangled memories.

’Sometimes, a bit of self-sacrifice, can make the whole world of difference.’-

Coming back to the present, he shoved his hands in his pockets. “At the time I didn’t really
understand, but I sorta do now. ”

Hermione listened to him. She thought for a second, and then gave him that smile of hers
that he always adored and could never resist. “I don’t care about all of that. I want to be
with you,” she said firmly.

“Hermione-“ he began.

“Shhh,” she placed her finger against his lips. “It’s settled.” She cuddled up closer on his
arm, and began walking once again. Harry sighed. Did she ever listen to reason?

**************

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Specialist Potter,” Draco smirked. He was still in the hospital wing,
sweating profusely as he did his leg exercises. “To what may I owe the- hff -honour?”

Harry stood in the doorway, watching Malfoy struggle to extend his leg. To his surprise,
Fleur was also here, trying her best to help him condition himself once again. Draco’s face
was red with exertion as he gripped the handles of his chair. Fleur kept very quiet, not even
making eye contact with Harry.

“How are you feeling? Harry asked.

“What the bloody hell do you mean by that? I feel on top of the world, after all it was only
Cruciatus damage alongside a couple snapped ribs, a broken hip and multiple breaks in this
fucking leg,” Draco grimaced as he once again extended his knee.

“Still charming as ever, I see...” Harry said under his breath. He knew how physical damage
could change a man’s way of thinking. Mortality was a serious thing. But that outburst was
uncalled for.

“You’re lucky hff I can’t walk right now, Potter. If I could I’ll get off this chair and shove
this-“ he grabbed an apple on his bedside table “- right up your arse!”

“Really? How so?” Harry enquired.

“Don’t you play hff innocent with me- you told Kenna you wished you left her to die?!”

“..And..?” Harry said coolly.

“You think that's funny don't you? You heartless bastard -I’ll kill you!” Draco hissed
venomously.

“You will kill me?” Harry asked seriously. “Strong words for someone who was beaten so
thoroughly and currently a cripple-“

“Fuck you! Don’t you dare mock me!! Just you wait!” Draco shouted, his neck tendons
straining with the pan of trying to extend his knee again.

“Well, while I wait, I’m here to give you an opportunity of a lifetime. I want you on my
team. When you’re ready to act like a grown man instead of a little pussy come talk to me,”
Harry turned slowly, making to leave. “Oh, and another thing- Don’t threaten me. Ever. You
hear me?”

“You go rot in hell-“

“And tell your sister don’t come near, or touch Hermione ever again. If she does, I’m
coming after you- and I won’t be nice. Remember that, Malfoy,” he turned to leave.

“As if I’m scared of you...“ Draco challenged.

“Draco, don’t get ‘im angry, please, jus’ let it go...” Fleur said softly, still not looking at
Harry. She was feeling very uncomfortable right now. Harry was almost out the door when
Draco opened his mouth again.

“Shut up- don’t presume to tell me what to do, you French slut-“ Harry froze in mid-stride.

“What did you just call her?” Harry asked softly, not even turning around.

“You heard me- I didn’t stutter- she’s a slut!“

Harry walked slowly towards his chair, looking at him with utter repulsion. “Even though
your power is extraordinary-” he drew his arm, and split second later he backhanded Draco
with a resounding Smack! Draco fell out of his chair, momentarily stunned. Fleur gasped
audibly, her hands covering her mouth. “-You’re still nowhere a match for me, Malfoy. I
warned you once before- don’t talk to her like that,” Harry said softly. Draco looked at him
as if he had gone mad. His face instantly turned white with rage and the Infernus power
erupted, his eyes immediately bursting into flames. Clenching his fists, both arms ignited,
and Draco shot off towards Harry like a rocket.

With only a soft incantation, Draco was flung across the room by a strong invisible hand. His
damaged leg collided against a flower vase, shattering it as he flew across four beds. Fleur
screamed again as she ducked reflexively from the flying shards of ceramic. Harry had his
arm extended, his fingers gripping an invisible object in his hand. Draco slammed high up
the wall, his face going blue with the pressure choking him. His eyes bulged with shock.

“Both of us know how it feels to lose loved ones to Voldemort. To say such things to
someone who cares about you, you’re a fucking bastard, and this time I’m am really going
to kick the shit out of you…” Harry growled. Draco clawed desperately at the invisible grip
on his neck. He was being lifted in small increments as Harry increased the magic binding
him. The two men faced each other across the room, their eyes locked in a battle of wills.
Harry eyes narrowed, and he clenched his Neck Choking Jinx even tighter, his fingers
closing in a crushing grip.

“Harry –STOP IT! STOP IT!” Fleur screamed, trying to pull down his arm desperately.
Looking at her as if he suddenly realized that they were not alone, he snorted, and released
the spell.

“Get it together Malfoy, you’re pathetic. I thought you told me you were one of ‘Hogwarts
Finest’?” Harry chuckled. Draco dropped to the ground in a heap, panting hard on the floor
as he gasped for air. Fleur ran across to him, and cradled his head in her lap.

“GET OUT!” she ordered. “GET AWAY FROM HIM!”

“Elementals are after you – they’re real dangerous. I was almost killed today- if you want to
be prepared, better join my ranks. I’m giving you the week to decide. Er- if not, well, you
can probably just go back to being a ‘trainee’. Fleur, see him for who he really is- and
believe me, he doesn’t get any nicer than this.”

“Please, just leave…” she sobbed, holding Draco close. With a soft ‘humph’, Harry did
exactly that.

*****************

Late that night, in a room above the Three Broomsticks, the nightmares that accompanied
him every time he set foot into Hogsmeade were stronger than ever.

”MACNAIR..RELEASE HER!”

“HAH! POTTER! WON’T WANT TO HURT HER NOW WOULD WE? MY GOD SHE’S GORGEOUS
ISN’T SHE? WE’LL MAKE SURE SHE BLEEDS!”

He woke up with a start. The cycle never ends. Each time this dream returned, he would
wake up just before Macnair throws Wormtail as bait. He had to. If he didn’t he would enjoy
it even more, reliving the experience of having his revenge on the one who betrayed his
parents.

…Why fight this, Potter? It is in your blood…

“Just a dream, just a dream...” Harry kept telling himself, but he felt Solidus contradict him
with laughter.

… Oh, so is that it? I am just a dream? Very well then…

More laughter. Harry gripped his hair, trying his best to rid himself of this stupid voice,
pulling on his scalp as if he could physically rip him out. He sat up in bed, and took a glass
of water from the pitcher. He couldn’t sleep. Right now what he needed was a stiff drink.
Throwing on a plain white t-shirt and the trousers of his uniform, he groggily got out of bed.
As he walked past the mirror, he froze. Someone else was looking back at him. Peering at it
again, there definitely was an impression of something other than his reflection looking back
at him. He came closer, his mirror image doing the same. Slowly, the reflection broke into a
smile- and a crucifix shaped scar slowly materialized on the side of his face, semi-covering
his right eye. He brought his hand up to touch the spot,

The mirror exploded in a shower of glass and his reflection jumped out at him, grabbing him
about his neck. With a lethal ferocity, it forced its thumbs against his adams apple,
preventing him from screaming for help-

“NO!” he breathed hoarsely, and woke up with a start. Looking at the empty glass and full
pitcher, he decided to pour himself a glass of water. Thinking back to his intense dream, he
decided against that. He couldn’t sleep anymore. What time was it? Looking at the clock on
the wall, it read minutes to three. He needed a drink. Throwing on a plain white t-shirt and
the trousers of his uniform, he hastily ran out the room, not even chancing looking at the
mirror that sat innocently on top the dresser.

He entered the pub downstairs, and immediately sat himself down and ordered Iced Cristal
Vodka. Taking a sip, he peered into the crystalline surface of the drink. It sparkled and
glittered, like a bag of diamonds. Harry continued this pattern, sipping his drink alone in
stages, and staring absentmindedly into the frosted mug for another four drinks. His head
was slowly relaxing, and his senses were slowly going out of focus.

“Hey Potter, take it easy. Keep this up and you’ll be worse than Fletcher,” Rebecca came
and sat next to him.

“Huh? Fletcher? Who’s that?” he slurred.

“You never met him? Strange. I’m sure Tonks mentioned him now and again being at Order
HQ..”

“Rebecca, why are you here?” Harry cut her off, looking at her closely underneath her
traveling hood.

“I’ve been up whole night, filling in my diary. I saw when you entered, and guessed you
wanted to be alone. It’s funny, actually...”

“What’s so funny?”

”Around this time, it’s mostly seedier folk come in here to drink, you know, borderline
criminals and petty thieves. They took one look at you and now –“ she nodded to the empty
bar. “They’ve dwindled away one by one, trying not to make it obvious. You’re right- you do
have a reputation, well around here that is.”

“Hardy har-“ Harry said dryly. “Feels good to be loved...”

“Well, you saved me the trouble of getting rid of this guy- y’know, cocky, tough guy type
who thinks that because I’m sitting alone I want male company between my legs- so, um
thanks.“

“Er- you’re welcome,” Harry said absentmindedly, once again draining the dregs of his drink
and motioning for another.

“Hey, you shouldn’t do that. You’re still a bit young aren’t you?”

“How did th-the interrogation go?”

“No luck. Ash has chosen a secret keeper- and Jacqueline’s memories don’t allow her to
release any information. I couldn’t bear to watch, Warshire really gets into it.”

“Good. She caused us a lot of trouble. I’m still not all there after that spell- things are pretty
up fucked right now-“

“You mean fucked up.”

“Yeah.”

“I finished my entry a while ago, but since you sat there for so long staring into your drinks
I had sudden, well, artistic inspiration. Want to see?”

Harry tore his eyes away from his glass- and slowly turned his head directly towards her,
his focus slightly off. He stared at her face, trying to discern whom it was he was speaking
to. Rebecca was caught off guard; he was staring at her. Her breath caught, and she
immediately fell for his brilliant green eyes.

“Well? Let’s see, then.”

The spell was broken, and she smoothly covered up the weird moment by opening the back
of her diary. She flipped a few pages of some abandoned attempts, then came to rest on a
completed drawing. Harry looked at it, frowned, then looked at it closer, his nose almost
touching the pages. Rebecca chuckled.

“That’s me, ” Harry said, a bit confused.

“Of course! I just told you that you sat still long enough for me to draw a portrait!” she
scolded him.

“Oh- right. I forgot.”

“How could you- oh forget it...” she sighed. Harry was still looking intently at the picture.
Rebecca wasn't so sure if what she was doing was a smart move. The only person who ever
saw any of her art was Rodulphus, and that was when she was still very young, and looked
up to her brother with almost hero worship. Why did she feel compelled to show Harry now?
She waited with baited breath for his impression of it.

“It’s good. Well, is frighteningly life-like. I didn’t know you like to- draw, er like could draw
like this-“ Harry mumbled, swaying dangerously close, almost falling flat into the book.
Rebecca smiled sadly.

“You don’t know much about me…” she said softly, averting her eyes. Harry was completely
clueless to the sensitive nature of the topic.

“You have a point,” he laughed.

The bartender came up to the both of them- looking pretty worn out. “Listen, I know it says
open all night, but for crying out loud- it’s almost six o’clock. Lady, take your man back
upstairs- tell him lay off the booze too, but don’t tell Rosmerta I said that…”

“He’s not my ‘man’,” Rebecca corrected at once.

“Oh? Is that right? Who is he then?”

“You don’t know? He’s Harry Potter.”

“You gotta be taking the mickey!” The bartender looked closely at the boy underneath the
mop of dark unkempt hair and past the faint stubble.” Well I’ll be- it really is you! But he
isn’t old enough to drink- what is he doing here anyway?”

“Just take the money, and forget the questions-“ Harry slammed some galleons on the bar.
“Lestrange, let’s go…” and with that, Harry fell right out the chair with a dull thud.

****************

Harry woke up to a beautiful morning, the sunlight filtering through the blinds. His eyes
were closed, but the sunshine blared red against his eyelids. A shadow crossed the light,
-there was a hand going towards his neck! Quick as a snake, his hand darted out and
caught the wrist in a unbreakable grip.

“Ow! What the hell!” came a feminine voice. Harry’s eyes opened, and hovering over him
was Rebecca, her arm captured in his grasp.

“Sorry,” Harry murmured. “What-?”

“You’re burning up. You had a pretty bad fever, looks like that Lightning attack plus the
blistering cold did leave some after effects. Did you finish the rejuvenation potion?” Harry
shook his head. “Allright, but what about the fever draught? You took some of that right?”
Again he shook his head. “Murtlap? Tylenol? Anything?” she enquired.

“No. I didn’t take anything.”

Rebecca’s eyes widened. “Are you crazy? You could have died from that fever! Looking for
an early retirement?” she laughed. Harry just realized something.

“Where are my clothes?” he asked.

“They were filthy- I sent them to clean. The house elf has to do it the muggle way- those
robes are pretty spell resistant.” Harry peeked under the sheets and groaned. As he
thought, naked like the day he was born. Grumbling, he wrapped the sheet around his waist
and got up to go to the bathroom. As he was taking his morning leak, something dawned on
him.

“What time is it?”

“Eleven o’clock.”

“So I was only out for a few hours then.”

“More like two days and a couple hours.”

Harry finished, and slowly washed his hands. “Are you saying that today is Wednesday?”
Harry asked cautiously. He braced for impact.

“Yes.”

“Ah shit…” he cursed. “The others?”

“They are back in London. Don’t worry- the Ministry is handling the elemental from now on.”

“Didn’t they ask as to my whereabouts?”

“I reported that you were incapacitated and needed rest. You did survive a lightning strike,
or have you forgotten?”

“Right…”

“Anyhow, now that you’re up- I have a few messages for you. Dumbledore and Lupin have
an important errand, and Pompfrey is now deputy Headmistress. Charlie Weasley is
substitute DADA teacher for the while as well…”

“Uh-huh,” Harry was brushing his teeth.

“Diggory also sends her regards and congratulations on a job well done-“

“Whatever,” Harry spat out the toothpaste.

“Kingsley has a lead on Ash-“

“That’s good news,” Harry was rinsing out his mouth.

“Malfoy and Delacour have left Hogwarts and are now back at Lionheart- Kingsley said
Malfoy approached him on joining the ELITE-“

“Hmmph... stupid motherfu-” Harry snorted as he washed his face.

“And –er, Hermione passed by and got kind of upset. I don’t think she likes me.” Harry
stopped suddenly.

“What?”

“Told me she felt that you were sick, so came to help. I told her I had the situation under
control.”

“You told her what! ?” He burst back into the room. Harry was a bit taken back when he
only now realized that Rebecca had on simple muggle clothes- a camouflage shorts and a
sleeveless denim shirt. Maybe not exactly in ‘style’, but he had never seen her so...dressed
down before.

“Of course! Would I just allow her to waltz in when you don’t have any clothes on?” she
looked at him aghast.

“She’s my girlfriend!”

“That’s not the point! She should be in school.” Rebecca said in a firm, authoritative
manner. “Skipping classes to come into Hogsmeade was against the rules as far as I
remember.”

“Jesus H. Christ…”

“Anyhow, back on track- we have a mission already lined up. As soon as you’re up to it-
we’re to locate the Veil of the Unknown. It was stolen a couple years back from the
Department of Mysteries. The M.A.R.S. department thinks they can somehow use it to drain
the magic potential of wizards, and they need it to finish build a permanent replacement
facility for Azkaban. The jailhouses are getting almost full with the petty crooks, but when
we start hunting down the big fish in earnest it would be child’s play for them to break out.”

Harry knew exactly where it was. That fateful night- his first duel to the death with his
nemesis. How the Dark Lord had captured the Order, Hermione’s sacrificial Resurrection
spell- everything. Painful memories, those were. He felt anger once again build up inside,
something that he realized was happening quite frequently these days. “Voldemort-“ he
whispered under his breath.
“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

“Oh, I treated the Lacaratia wounds on your back. You should be fine now.”

Harry felt uneasy. She tended to him while he was naked the whole time. Now that’s three
women to this date who saw him naked, well the only three people to have ever seen him
naked. One was a scheming enchantress, the next his first true love; and now his squad
mate: Rebecca Lestrange. He looked at her carefully, trying to figure her out. Is this
coincidence? Only Kenna and Hermione saw him in the buff, and now both had a huge
impact on his life. In his gut, he didn’t think this pattern was set in stone.

Either way she was an enigma. Already they are comrades in arms, and now drinking
buddies. Well- what he could vaguely remember of their little time in the bar. He looked out
for her, and in return, she looked out for him. It was part of the job. The real question was,
what role was she to play in this topsy-turvy world he lived in.…

*****************************

Chapter 17: Pureblood Secrets

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**CHAPTER 17: Pureblood Secrets

Barely a few months into the year and Harry wished that he could go on holiday. His job
was stressful to say the least. It took him nearly two whole weeks to fully recuperate from
that Lightning Strike and his fever. Right now he wished he could visit his girlfriend. She
would fix him up in no time- he had to admit her summoning ability did come in handy
sometimes. However, work came first, and they needed to help the M.A.R.S. specialists
retrieve the Veil of the Unknown.

“Are you sure about this?” Kingsley asked as they walked down the halls of the Department
of Mysteries. Harry walked alongside him, his head covered, his face halfway hidden behind
a thick blood red scarf.

“Definitely.”

“You’re a strange one, Potter. According to Dumbledore, he could be one of the most
destructive wizards alive, plus he’s a Malfoy. Not the best combination, considering he’s
going to have carte blanche on the use of the Unforgivable Curses in combat… “

“He already knows how to use them.”

“Oh really? Well then, what makes you think he can be trusted?” Kingsley asked in
amazement.

“Because he owes me his life,” Harry said in dark finality, and walked inside the S.T.A.R.
Elite offices. Sol, Warshire and Lestrange were seated at the small circular table, thick
smoke from Sol’s cigar and lighter puffs coming from Warshire’s pipe engulfing the room,
the swirling patterns clearly visible under the lone lamplight. There were galleons, knuts and
sickles stacked in front of them, and each were holding a hand of cards. Malfoy was in the
mix, his infamous sneer set in place. Considering the number of chips he had in front of
him, he had every reason to smile. It seems that he was winning. Harry raised an eyebrow-
gambling huh?

“I fold,” Lestrange said in defeat. “Warshire? Sol?”

Warshire was sweating, his eyes giving away what his face did not. “Two pair-”

“Ha! Straight flush!” Sol announced- fanning his cards on the table. He grinned out the
corner of his mouth. “Well boy, has your luck run out yet?”

Malfoy leant forward, his eyes surveying his cards. “Nope. Royal flush,” he said calmly,
laying his cards down easily. “I win. Never bet against a Malfoy- you’re going to lose,” he
said haughtily, summoning the pile of money in the center of the table with a flick of his
wand. “So it seems our esteemed commander finally decides to grace us with his presence.
Well, Potter? Any more great excuses for being late this time?”

The other wizards looked at him incredulously, wondering if he had gone mad. Harry smiled
easily, and ignored his insult.

“I see you have met our latest rookie, Draco Malfoy,” he said in a backhanded greeting to
his team. “Moving on- you know that the Ministry wants us to retrieve the Veil of the
Unknown. Fortunately, we-” he indicated himself and Draco-“have a good idea where it is.”
There was a nod at this comment. “Unfortunately, we may also have a slight problem.”

“What’s that?” Sol enquired, frowning.

“We have to fly past Azkaban prison- and according to the M.A.R.S. specialists; rogue
dementors have been spawning there. The ward that contained them to Azkaban has been
breached, and there is no longer any way to keep them in line...so...er we-” Harry trailed
off.

“We…what?” Rebecca asked him.

“We will have- um… have to do some remedial training. How good are your Patronus
Charms? There might be some trouble…” Harry asked hesitantly. He knew they would not
appreciate this sort of question.

“Come on! That’s nothing to do!” Warshire exclaimed.

“Potter, what do you take us for- amateurs?” Sol asked angrily.

“Harry...” Kingsley whispered, knowing that he had inadvertently offended them.

“Don’t underestimate the situation. If Potter here says there may be trouble, then rest
assured, it’s worse than we think,” Draco said, his face hidden underneath the shadow of his
hood. “The last time he told me there was trouble- Voldemort had risen from the dead, we
got into a fight with an Ice Dragon, he was nearly tortured to death- and Dumbledore and
Moody were killed.”

There was a bit of nervous shuffling around the table. Rebecca visibly flinched when he
reminded that her mentor and father figure was dead. She was the first to open her mouth
in indignation.

“Really? And pray tell; how did they die? As if you would now…” she asked in a mocking
tone. Who was this brat to talk about such matters?

“Well actually, Lestrange, I am the one who killed them,” Draco countered coolly.

There was a deafening silence afterwards. It took a few seconds for Rebecca to really
register that piece of information. She stared at him incredulously, her eyes opening wide.
Harry groaned inwardly.

“Malfoy, why the fuck do you always have to open your mouth like that?” he spat.

“Kingsley, is this true?” she asked so softly that her voice could barely be heard.

“Er- Yes, but listen to me Rebecca-REBECCA!” His Far seeing ability gave him a glimpse of
the next two seconds. From the way her legs shifted, she was getting ready to pounce-
“NO!”

Quick as panther, Rebecca pounced off the seat of her chair, a sleek assassin’s knife in her
hands. With the grace of a trained professional, she took one step in the only uncluttered
spot on the table and dove towards Draco. Draco just sat there, that trademark smirk never
leaving his face. Without any emotional response, he incinerated the two closest legs of the
table. The table collapsed under her weight and Rebecca fell clumsily face first at his feet.
Before she could spring to action Draco stood up on her knife hand, applying pressure as he
put his entire weight on it. Rebecca was in an awkward position, her back arcing as her
bottom half was still angled on the broken table. Without much ado, he took the exotic
assassin’s knife from her grasp, twirling it around his fingers.

“Care to try again?” Draco smiled charmingly at her. Warshire and Sol DeFontaine were at
their feet in a thrice, their faces contorted with fury. Their wands were drawn, and trained
on his face.

“Get off her! NOW!” Warshire threatened. Draco raised an eyebrow at them in mock query,
as if being ordered by a five year old. He looked at Harry for a moment, and Harry nodded
slightly.

“Very well,” he said more to Harry than the two men. He released her, spun the blade once
again in his palm, flipping it so that the handle faced the Auror. “I believe this is yours?” he
said gallantly, as if he had just retrieved her fallen handkerchief.

“That’s enough Malfoy. Lestrange, never let your emotions take over in any given situation-
You," Kingsley pointed at Draco. "I’d like to talk to you, privately.” Malfoy winked at her,
and silently exited behind Kingsley. Sol and Warshire came to her side, helping her to get
back to her feet. She snapped at the both of them, and untangled herself from the
paraphernalia fallen from the table and her thick travelling cloak.

“Let me be. I can stand on my own two feet,” she snarled, her pride taking another beating.
Once again she felt so humiliated. Keeping her eyes averted, she tried her best to keep her
emotion out of her voice. “Commander, you knew how I felt about Alastor, yet you brought
the person who killed him in our unit?!”

“I’m sorry. This must be hard for you, but there are factors here I- er, have to deal with. I
also want the most talented wizards in our squad. He can be a real bastard, but he can be
relied upon. His natural ability will be quite an asset.”

“Did you hear what I just said?! HE KILLED HIM!”

“Voldemort was the one who killed him. Malfoy was just the puppet…” Harry said softly.
“Would you rather someone that dangerous to be on your side or on the opposing side? This
way- we at least can be guaranteed that Ash will not be able to manipulate him.” Rebecca
was opening her mouth to argue when Kingsley and Malfoy came back inside. She
reluctantly held her tongue and just stood there, seething in rage.

“Lestrange- you know the rules: attacking a fellow Ministry agent is serious business. You
will report to my office after this briefing. If you want to have a go- do it on the duelling
range and pay the Healers with your own personal funding. Reparo,” Kingsley pointed his
wand at the broken table, and it was restored to it’s previous state. Harry silently noted that
Kingsley was way better than he thought- that spell was very complex, even though it
appeared he just used a simple fixing charm. With that one spell, he conjured the legs,
attached them in place and reversed the physics of everything that fell, so that the cards
and money were back exactly the way they were. It seemed that he reversed time. Very
interesting piece of spell work there…

“Okay Ladies and gentlemen, now that we’ve gotten familiar-” Kingsley cleared his throat,
“Potter here says he knows where the Veil is. So…without further ado…”

“Er- right. We need to get past Azkaban rock to get to a small island, called Siren’s Rock. At
that location there is an abandoned fortress, and in the center of the courtyard the Veil
should still be there…but even if it isn’t, that’s the only lead so…”

They waited expectantly for him to continue.

“I’ll need correct descriptions of your Patronuses, and – um, your past experience in using
them-”

“Ha! I repelled four Dementors at the same time with my Patronus charm!” Sol announced.
“It’s a Hawk! I remember the time well, it was back in ’89…”

“Easy, DeFontaine, let’s not get back into that story again….” Warshire grumbled. “Cocky
bastard…” he said under his breath.

“What did you say?” Sol asked.

“Nothing. Ahem- I used to ward the prisoners in transit to Azkaban- er once the two
Dementors went wild and I zapped em without much trouble. Dementors haven’t really
bothered me, but I can hold my own.”
“We had one as a... pet,” Rebecca said flatly, her eyes never leaving Draco’s arrogant face.
“I am accustomed to getting rid of pesky annoyances ever since I was small.”

“Oh yes I forgot about that. Lovely family you had, eh Becky?” Draco smirked. “Tell me,
how is my dear Great Uncle Cygnus going? Are you still ‘Daddy’s little girl’?”

“How dare you! You little, stinking, snot nosed brat-!”

“Care to repeat that? Snot nose wha-?" he smirked. Draco raised an eyebrow. "How’s your
hand feeling?’ he asked smugly, noticing that she was rubbing where the grips of his boots
left an impression.

“That’s enough Draco-“ Harry warned. “Leave her alone. Consider that strike one.”

“Ooh- I’m so sorry, Commander. Miss Lestrange, please allow me to apologize...” Draco
replied in his most sincere voice- “When mudbloods fly!!” He laughed at Rebecca’s red face.
He could barely keep it in. Was she about to explode?

Kingsley groaned. He said in a soft stage whisper to Harry- “You’re definitely sure about
him?” Harry wished he could have taken back his words now. But his mission for the Order
was top priority. He had to keep monitoring him!

“Er-“ Harry responded. “Sometimes, I’m not sure if he ever listens…” he mumbled to
himself. He strode across to Draco, grabbed the front of his robes purposefully and took him
aside. Draco smirked, letting himself be manhandled without much restraint. He laughed
softly once again.

“Listen Malfoy-“ Harry began. Draco cut him off with a knowing grin.

“Have a soft spot for Lady Rebecca, do we, Potter?” Draco chuckled. His cocky attitude
vanished, and his tone dropped dramatically. “You know nothing about her, stop defending
her as if she’s all innocent and sweet.” Harry’s grip loosened a bit.

“What are you talking abou-”

“The Lestranges were the second richest pureblood family- well after ours, of course, and
the Dark Lord’s most versatile servants. And also unlike my family, they had absolutely no
sort of dignity, or scruples whatsoever. Mad Eye couldn’t save the brothers, they were in far
too deep and perverted, but he managed to salvage what he could of sweet, innocent
Rebecca. Well, what he could after a year of- er-sexual advances. You do know what I
mean, don’t you-“ Draco winked sadistically

“My god…” Harry whispered, and slowly let him go. He didn’t know…

“Horrible," Draco chuckled, enjoying Potter's expression. "All of them excelled in finding new
ways to murder, her included. Assassins by nature. That’s why Voldemort favoured them.
Ruthless and sadistic without boundaries…after all, if they had no qualms about-" (he
cleared his throat) "-their own blood-“

“That’s enough-“ Harry said his temper rising.

“My, my, you sure are protective, I wonder why? Oh, and Potter- I saw your mudblood
crying her eyes out as I walked into Hogsmeade to catch the Lionheart train the other day.
Did something happen? Should I tell Weaselby that the path is clear and she's fair game? ”

“That’s none of your business!” Harry grabbed the front of his uniform again, hissing in his
face.

“I don’t see why all the fuss, who would want to trade delectable Hermione Granger for the
Death Eaters' whore anyway-” he nodded towards Rebecca.

“SHUT UP!!” Harry screamed, and without warning the walls of the room erupted in fire. The
whole office became one huge inferno- and all of them were trapped inside. Harry’s eyes
slowly began to glow, his face contorting in rage. “YOU JUST KEEP YOUR FUCKING MOUTH
SHUT, YOU HEAR ME MALFOY? !” The flames had now reached the ceiling.

“No problem,” Malfoy agreed, an amused expression on his face as he surveyed the flames.
“The Incinerator curse- excellent, excellent! Your progress has been in leaps and bounds,”
Draco noticed. “However, you wouldn’t want them to burn to death now, do we? Finite!”
Draco murmured, a fire sparking in his pupils. A wave of his hand later, and the flames were
gone, leaving only soot-covered walls as proof they all weren’t going mad. “Now, if you
don’t mind, I am quite fond of my new uniform, so please, let go of me,” Draco said
haughtily.

Harry angrily let him go, shoving him against the wall. He took a deep breath, and felt
embarrassed at the astonished looks the others were giving him. “ Malfoy, you know what,
you’re the only person on this earth who can get me this angry-”

“That’s why you love me don’t you?” Draco said cheekily.

“One of these days, we are going to settle this-“ Harry growled, his fists clenching. He took
a glance at their audience, and forcibly calmed himself down.

"Anytime you're ready- " Draco grinned.

“But it is not today- we have work to do. Let’s go.” He turned towards the door, effectively
bringing the meeting to an end.

“What about the Patronus training?” Rebecca asked sourly- utterly clueless about their topic
of conversation. Harry looked at her with deeper eyes. She looked broken almost to the
point of tears. Firstly, to find out that her new team-mate killed the one person who ever
cared about her, and now she was going to be severely penalized for doing what he himself
would have done in her position. If Pettigrew or Bellatrix Lestrange were to gloat directly to
his face what they had done, he too would not have hesitated to kill them on the spot.

Ah, but young Potter, you have done so already!

Harry cursed under his breath. He was not going insane. Taking another deep breath he
slowly relaxed, trying his best to quell this violent streak he had whenever Draco opened his
mouth, and he took a moment to collect his head.

“Forget it. I’ll take care of the Dementors. Get some rest people, we leave tomorrow,” he
threw over his shoulder as he stormed out the near burnt down room. Kingsley and
Lestrange went a separate direction afterwards, and Draco sauntered out behind them,
whistling a merry tune. Sol and Warshire were still a bit shell shocked.
“What the fuck are they feeding these kids nowadays?” Sol cursed, letting loose a long
whistle as both men surveyed the damage.

“If it’s the Hogwarts food, I’m sending my little Mary-Sue to Beauxbatons…” (he
remembered the Ice witch) “...Scratch that- most likely Durmstrang.” Warshire grumbled.

“Right - she’ll be eleven come May- getting her school letter sometime soon I take it?” He
clasped a hand on his shoulder. “Steven, my old friend, you are getting old,” he said good-
naturedly.

“Cork it, DeFontaine…”

******************

The S.T.A.R. Elite were assembled on the rocky coastline, looking at the misty and looming
sea tumble over and over, the breaking waves lapping softly against the pebbly beach. The
stinging wind pulled at their robes, and all of them shifted their scarves as high as it could
go across their nose.

“This could get sticky. I am giving you guys mission priority. No matter what, on this job,
we’re to stay alive first, retrieve the Veil second. I’ll need to know what your corporal
Patronuses look like.”

“Mine is a Hawk,” Sol announced.

“I have a Ram…” Warshire added.

“A winged Horse...” Rebecca added quietly. Harry raised an eyebrow, impressed. Draco
leant up on his broomstick, a twinkle in his eye. Harry looked at him in turn.

“I’ve seen your Patronus, Potter. I want to keep mine as a surprise. Don’t worry, you’ll know
it when you see it…” Draco said coolly. Harry shrugged, and once again turned to the sea.

“We’re punching straight through, full speed. If we could outrun them- the better it will be
for us. When we reach our objective, we’ll set up our portkey zone for the others. On first
sign of fear, do it. You’d be surprised how quickly a few hundred Dementors could take
over.”

There was a nervous shuffling of feet, and some involuntary steps on the pebbly shore.

“A-a few hundred…?” Warshire whispered.

“Commander, have you lost your mind? How do you expect the five of us to get through
that?” Rebecca questioned, her temper once again on the rise.

“Don’t worry, as I said yesterday, I’ll handle it. But for extra precaution- just be ready to
conjure yours. Let’s go-” and with that, he took to the air.

“Show off,” Draco laughed, and shot up after him without hesitation. Encouraged by his
confidence, the others also mounted, and shot over the gray skies. As they drew closer to
Azkaban, the atmosphere became heavier, the seas more turbulent and dark. There was a
permanent area of darkness sitting on top of the horizon, hovering where the Azkaban
Prison sat, broken and useless. There was a huge crater boring along the ground, the gates
of Azkaban utterly demolished and a large portion of the main structure reduced to rubble,
the remainder barely standing on badly cracked stone and mortar. Harry’s eyes opened
wide. He had done that?

“Commander!” Lestrange shouted- she had felt it first. Soon everyone else felt the pull, and
their wands were out and in full force.

“Wait until-” Harry shouted, but it was too late.

“Expecto Patronum!” Rebecca shouted.

“Expecto-” Warshire began.

“Expecto Patronum!” screamed Sol.

“-PATRONUM!” Warshire finished conjuring his, and three shining figures shot off, a Hawk, a
Ram with huge curved horns, and finally a Pegasus, it’s wings opening wide. Draco shook
his head. It was too soon.

“Come on!” Harry said, knowing that he really should have done the extra training. They
conjured it too soon- they’re going to have to make a break for it. He could not gauge how
long their Patronus will last against the oncoming swarm. The Dementors floated up from
Azkaban like a hive of angry bees, swirling about each other in the twos and threes. A few
dozen viciously went after the three Patronuses. After a valiant fight, all three were quickly
vanquished.

“We need them to escort us- not attack!” Draco shouted at the others who in fact were
looking pretty shell-shocked. The fear was written on all of their faces and they slowed
down dramatically.

“We-we can’t go there- we’ll be killed!” Warshire screamed. “My wife...my two
princesses...no..no..leave them alone…AAAAA!” Harry turned at the scream, and cursed
loudly when he saw Warshire fall from his broom.

“Watch out-!” Harry screamed, zooming back past Draco as he dove to catch Warshire.
“MALFOY- STALL THEM!”

Draco grinned, and brought up his happiest memory. His happiest moment was when Fleur
gave him her virginity- and proclaimed her love for him. No one ever really loved him
before. This was a first. Maybe he really should treat her better.

“EXPECTO PATRONUM!” he screamed, his eyes ablaze as he borrowed extra magical ability
from his Summoning ability. His wand charged, and a blinding flash erupted from the tip.
Harry was in the motion of catching Warshire when an incredible light shone from behind
and above him. He turned, squinting his eyes…

“What the?” he stammered.

A huge Dragon, approximately the same size as Macnair’s gigantic Ice Leviathon filled the
sky. The sheer luminance of it was enough to make Harry shield his eyes. It flapped its
enormous wings once, twice, hovering like a huge god over minuscule insects. Draco’s arms
ignited in fire, a flash of flame created a halo underneath his feet and he shot up into the
sky, directly behind his Patronus charm.

“Catch,” Draco ordered, and he threw his broomstick at DeFontaine. Rebecca stared in awe
as it fell through the sky, falling into Sol’s waiting hands. Draco hovered high in the sky, his
eyes burning with power. The dragon mocked his stance, and both of them drew back a bit,
spreading their arms as they summoned a mighty breath-

FFFWWWWWOOOOOOMMM!!

Draco's chest expanded as he blew out a breath of hot air, his Patronus multiplying it
tenfold. It mimicked him perfectly, an intense stream of fire poured through the mouth of
the dragon and blasted the Dementors in waves, the bright golden flames shooting forth in
an incredible surge of pure magical energy.

“Ennervate!” Harry incanted, pointing his wand at Warshire’s limp form. He woke up slowly,
but Harry could tell he was still seeing his nightmare images. The fear was creeping up on
him as well, and he needed to keep them moving or else they all would suffer the same
fate. Draco was good, he had to admit, but even he had to rely on his Sword and the Grim
to help him defeat all of these dementors. He didn’t know how long Draco could fend them
off. He grabbed Warshire by his scarf, and shouted into his dazed eyes.

“Hold on to your broomstick!”

“Aye cap’n,” he said wearily. Harry hauled him up on tow as he sat limply on his broomstick,
and handed him over to Lestrange and DeFontaine.

“LISTEN! Both of you take a hold of him. Follow me as fast as you can, and keep in close
distance of my Patronus, all right?! Draco and I are going to create a path. We’re making a
run for it!”

“Jesus…” Rebecca whispered, flabbergasted at the tremendous display of power. Harry

looked at her terror-stricken face. Her knuckles were white on the handle of her broomstick,
her arms visibly shaking with the effort not to scream in fear. She was going to crack
anytime now from the Dementors’ influence- he knew it. He zoomed in front of her
immediately. He took her face in between his palms, forcing her to look at him.

“Rebecca, listen to me. We’re going to make it- I won’t let anyone on my team die,” he said
forcefully- his green eyes boring into her violet ones. "Do you trust me?" She nodded
shakily, and tried to smile. Her hand came up and tenderly covered his, and at that moment
Harry felt a sudden urge to protect this women who was seven years his senior. Letting her
go- he raced up to Draco’s side. He looked at him sceptically, since when did he have all this
power?

“Trying to show off huh?” Harry growled, his face ready for battle. “Good. We’re gunning it
through. ’Like your Patronus by the way-“ he closed his eyes for a second, and when they
reopened, they were pulsing once again with Solidus’ power.

“EXPECTO PATRONUM!”

And as he had done once before- the clouds above parted, and a ray of light shone down
from the heavens, the luminance rivalling even that of Draco’s dragon. A huge stag charged
down from the heavens, riding down on the beam of light. It came to a slow halt at his side,
prancing it’s feet restlessly as it began to trot slowly around them in a tight circle. Harry's
cloak billowed behind him, and his long hair came alive with magic. He pointed his wand
directly at the swarm, ready to do battle.

“Right through the heart-”

Taking a firm hold on his broomstick he charged forth, and the five of them shot through
the sky. The dragon flew a bit over head, while Harry’s Patronus led the charge. Dementors
whipped in around from above and below them, and any one that came too close were on
the receiving end of his father’s Prongs or a deadly blast of Patronus Fire. Draco encased
himself inside the huge body of his Dragon, his arms held stiffly to his sides as he screamed
past overhead, creating a path for the others.

DeFontaine and Rebecca just ducked their head in grim determination behind the glowing
Stag, fighting off the suicidal impulses and wishing to God that it could be over soon. After
what felt like two weeks but lasted barely two minutes, they were out the worst of it.
Rebecca squinted her eyes, expecting to be blinded once again, but was astonished to see
both Patronus charms barely alight, and the two wizards looking much worse for wear.

“….G-give...the ...me the broomstick- “ Harry ordered, trying his best not to pass out. She
did as he was told, and Harry flew up slowly towards Draco, who, not surprisingly, looked
almost dead in the air. “Take this-“ Harry said, and Draco took hold, seating himself once
again. As soon as he did, he nearly passed out- and Harry had to shake him awake before
he toppled over into the sea.

“Whatever you do, don’t fall off…” Harry warned him.

“Ch-ocko-

“Huh?” Harry asked.

“Choco- chocolate…”

Right! How could he forget- and he did remember to bring some for this very same purpose.
“Here- “ he gave him a piece. “Rebecca, eat some of the chocolate-“ he ordered, but she
was already eating and also trying to coax Warshire to take some.

“I’m fine- it’s you three I’m worried about…” she responded as her hood fell back against
the buffeting wind, revealing her long tresses of dark purple hair.

“You hear that? It sounds like singing… It’s so beautiful…” Sol DeFontaine said dreamily.
Harry also heard it, and so did Draco- whose eyes opened groggily, his face on the brink of
exhaustion. Harry felt another sort of tugging, one deep in his loins, and a dangerous magic
penetrating his senses.

“Potter,” Draco croaked. “What did you say this place was called…?” he asked, blinking his
eyes hard as if he couldn’t believe them. Harry turned his gaze, and wished he hadn’t. Far
below, there was a small reef of craggy rocks, and on the largest one three women were
singing, harps in their hands, their skin aglow in the dim light. They were completely naked,
long silver locks of hair danced of their own will around their heads, and perfectly shaped
legs disappeared from the thigh down in the light green water.
“Siren’s Rock…” Rebecca breathed, once again ready for battle. The men were already
entranced. This looked like trouble. Just then, she began to understand the lyrics of their
song.

Come all, and take refuge in our watery paradise

You four brave warriors are privy to our special blend of sugar and spice.
Lie with us and let us three comfort your weary limb,
For we exist to satisfy your darkest fantasies, and each and every whim.
To you our supple bodies do we three generously offer
The heralded Four Horsemen: Warshire, DeFontaine, Malfoy and Potter.
For when you are done, and we are one
You will be ours and your souls will never take to another…

“Harry! Don’t!” Rebecca shouted desperately, but it was too late. Already captured by their
spell, the four men in her team descended on their broomsticks and alighted on the rocky
reef. They couldn’t even hear her. Sirens were powerful magical creatures, and highly
resistant to magic. Taking a couple seconds to formulate a plan, she came to only one
conclusion. There wasn’t enough time to make a plan. Drawing her blade, she shot down
after them just as the three women took hold of her men, and led them underwater.

Hmph. One against three- sounds familiar- more like Potter’s odds. Dismounting from her
broom, she alighted on the rocks. Conjuring a bubble-head charm- she held her wand in
one hand and her assassin’s blade in the other as she dove in. She had to be decisive, four
lives hung in the balance. She laughed softly. Well, maybe three- she wouldn’t mind if one
of them- a certain blonde fellow- didn’t make it.

*****************

Dumbledore and Remus Lupin were dressed in muggle camouflage, the top buttons of their
gear unbuttoned, Dumbledore’s long hair pulled back in a ponytail. Remus had a machete, a
flask of water, a bag of supplies, his wand, and some Brazilian money. Three men were
guiding them, their faces young but from the way they held their machine guns, they were
well versed in the arts of killing. He never expected to be in this position, far less in this part
of the world. The Amazon was a beautiful place, if you harboured no fear against man-
eating predators and predator eating men. Remus gulped. He was a wizard, but knew
enough that even wizards weren’t immune to bullets. Dumbledore looked as relaxed as
ever, sitting down quite comfortably in the small double engine boat. The sound of their
boat was the only man made sound for miles, the various forms of wildlife making this place
come alive even more than the Forbidden Forest.

“[ You say you know of our Shaman, Albus Dumbledore? And how do you know of us? You
are a very brave man,]” one of the armed men asked him.

“[ So they say. Yes, I knew him, quite a good friend he was actually…Interesting place for
him to have settled down.]” Dumbledore responded in fluent Portuguese.

The three men laughed. “[You claim to have befriended our Shaman? We should kill you for
your insolence. He is much older than you!]”
“[ Appearances can be deceiving. ]” Dumbledore smiled calmly.

“[ Really? Well if you claim to know him- show me some of your powers! ]”

“ [ I thought you’d never ask.]” Dumbledore nodded at his traveling companion. “Remus,
hold on. [Please shut off your engine, I will make the trip easier and much more pleasant.]”
Dumbledore took out his wand, and rapped it against the side of the boat. It slowly rose out
of the water, floating on an invisible cushion. “[Just tell me when to turn- and please remain
calm-]” One of them men seemed to be contemplating jumping out of the boat completely.
“[Ready?]”

With another flick of his wand, the boat shot off smoothly over the water, crossing speeds
usually meant for a racetrack. In no time at all, they came to their destination, a village in
the heart of the Amazon. Remus and Dumbledore alighted unto the small pier. There was a
reception committee waiting for them, all of them armed with automatic weapons.

“Put that down Riki. You too, Jason. Everyone, lower your weapons. We are amongst
friends,” a voice said from behind the crowd. He parted down the middle, and came to
forefront. His sparkling eyes were a direct contradiction to his weathered complexion, his
once pale skin now permanently tanned by life in the jungle. However, he was without a
doubt, a wizard. A suspicious looking walking stick made of a gnarled wood was held in his
hand, and his robes were amazingly clean considered the soil was quite muddy.

“Dumbledore- is that you?” he laughed. “Well it goes to show you that when we went
phoenix seeking all those decades ago it wasn’t just for the novelty of it!”

“Fawkes was a loyal phoenix, and I still miss him.” Dumbledore greeted, and both of them
clasped each other in a welcoming embrace. “This is here is my friend, Remus Lupin.”

“A pleasure, my good man. Now pray tell, what brings you to my humble abode?”

“We have a situation. Come, where can we sit and chat?” Dumbledore asked.

“Pardon my rudeness, come come- let us go to my place. What is it you will be drinking? We
must charge up before the feast!”

“Feast?” Remus asked.

“Of course, only the best for an old friend! And a friend of my friend is also my comrade!
We’re a family here!”

“Still the party-loving man I see. I’m glad things have not changed too much,” Dumbledore
smiled.

“Of course! What else can you expect from Randalf Ravenclaw?”

**************

Chapter 18: Heirs To The Founders

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Author's note: The brand SpAnKiNg new chapter of the Grim- first time on HpFF! To those
who recognise, holla at yo boy! Respect!

**CHAPTER 18: Heirs to the Founders**

Harry and Draco were being pulled deeper down into this strange seawater, seawater that
they could somehow breathe and glittered with the miniscule lights of thousands of glowing
micro organisms. The siren leading them down was the most beautiful creature he had ever
seen and her voice stripped him of all his troubles. Songs of love promising an eternity of
blissful nights and nothing to do days were swimming in his head, and the smooth skin of
her naked body and flowing hair enticed him even further.

“Potter, can’t you do something?” Draco’s voice bubbled over from the left side.

“Nope. Not a goddamn thing,” Harry bubbled, his eyes roaming on his captive’s voluptuous
body as her legs kicked continuously behind her, drawing them down to what seemed to be
an underground cave.

“You’ve been caught too deep. I thought I was, but even I know we won’t last long after
they had their way with us. Potter, we’re going to be the patrons of the most expensive
whorehouse, and I’m not talking in monetary values, you understand?!” Draco grumbled
back, bubbles escaping his mouth.

“That does seem to be the problem, doesn’t it? But she’s worth it-,” Harry said, eagerly
kicking alongside her as she dragged them each by their wrist. Draco wanted to resist, but
for some strange reason, he couldn’t give himself the inclination to do something about it.
The Sirens had them under a very powerful Lust spell, and only he, (as he was a heartless
bastard anyway) could still even consider the option of wanting to say no. However, his
body was not listening to his commands. He couldn’t draw his wand, neither could he use
the Infernus underwater. All he could try was to snap Potter out of it.

“This is like the Imperius curse on our cocks, Potter. You are supposed to be our
Commander! If you want to do something heroic, now will be a good time!” Draco shouted,
bubbles furiously escaping his mouth.

“The Imperius on our what?” Harry looked at Draco with a serious expression. Draco almost
blew out a sigh of relief until he continued: “Sounds kinky! I like the sound of that-“ Harry
finished, a devilish grin on his face.

Draco sighed and looked at the two other men in front of them, each being taken by the
other sirens. He couldn’t expect any help there, both of them were in a more helpless
situation than Potter and himself, after all, they were being dragged along limply, totally
bereft of free will. At least Potter still had enough wits about himself to carry a conversation.
Turning his head to look behind them, he saw Lestrange swimming furiously behind them,
with what seemed to be an upside-down fishbowl on her head. At the rate these sirens
glided through the water, it appeared that no mere mortal could really catch up. He doubted
a weakling such as Rebecca Lestrange could really save them all.

... So much for his debut mission in the spanking new S.T.A.R. ‘Elite’.
*****************

Back in Hogwarts Ron was in his Care of Dangerous magical creatures alongside his project
partner, Pansy Parkinson. Their baby Chimera was growing up quite well, despite its
‘parents’ constantly bickering. Even through all their arguments, Ron and Pansy took a
liking to their young charge, it’s fur delicately soft on his hide, and it’s three tails bobbing
enthusiastically anytime it saw them approach. The face was that of a tiger, but the tiny
protruding horns from its year and a half old head truly distinguished it as a magical
creature. In a few months, the wings should begin protruding from the shoulder blades,
magical wings that could fold seamlessly into the hide.

Dangerous creatures if wild and untamed, but highly intelligent and compassionate to those
in it’s favour, with a knack of good judgment on character. When Ron heard that, he almost
scoffed. If Pansy was what a Chimaera would consider a person with a ‘good character’, he
wanted nothing to do with it.

Hermione was watching them bicker the whole time they were walking him back to its pen
on the other side of the lake, their voices growing in indignation with each step they took.

“It was your turn to concoct the brewing potion, two thirds Strengthening and one-third
Calming drought! What’s the argument about?”

“You only order me around all the time! ‘We’ never agreed that this time was my turn! You
just ‘declared’ it!” Pansy barked back.

“What? Are you bonkers? It’s understood that we each take turns! Do you want Alfie to
die?”

“How could you say such a thing!?” Pansy was immediately hurt. “I care more about him
than you ever will!”

“Ha! Well where is the potion then, if you care so much?”

“I’ll get around to it, just don’t rush me and boss me around!”

“Just remember to be quick about it, he’s supposed to be four and a half feet before exam
time- six stone and with silver mane. Right now it’s looking like his mane is still dirt brown-
it should have lightened by now…”

“But his eyes are so adorable- look, he winked at me! He loves me more than you, you tall
slave driver!” Pansy spat.

“Don’t forget-“

“Look, it’s the Granger mudb-er- I mean, your friend…” Pansy self-corrected quickly. Before
she could have laughed at him without fear of repercussions. Now he she wasn’t so sure.
Ron really wasn’t all show, the last DADA classes he totally routed everyone else in the
dueling practices. And the mock battle between him and the delicious Professor Charlie was
quite impressive. Not saying that he was impressive, she meant, well, really meant the
duel, that is…
Ron turned around and saw Hermione waiting for him at Hagrid’s hut. Ron gave Pansy the
leash, mumbled a goodbye, and left without any more quarrel. He walked back across to
her, and she fell into step beside him as they walked up the hill.

“Do you think that I can’t fight for myself?” she asked Ron suddenly. “Or do you think Harry
is overreacting?”

“Pssh…I don’t know what to think of Harry anymore, but I know you can definitely hold your
own, you proved it time and time again.”

“I’m going to do more research and training on my summoning ability. It takes so much out
of me that I feel so up and down lately…and that Rebecca woman is not helping matters,”
she added sadly.

“What? Why?”

“She refused to allow me to treat him the other week, I mean; she wouldn’t even let me
inside! It’s as if she was hogging him to herself-”

“What did Harry say about this?” Ron asked.

“Well, he couldn’t, really. Remember when I went to Hogsmeade-“

“Disappeared, you mean,” Ron interjected.

“This was important! I felt that presence again, all the way up in the Transfiguration tower!
Solidus Gryffindor was keeping him alive for that whole time- But she just didn’t want to
understand! I couldn’t really tell her the whole story, but I needed to see him!” Hermione
cried. “Now he’s gone to who knows where and yet another piece of the real Harry is
gone…” Ron’s eyes narrowed.

“So you’re saying that you’re absolutely sure he is being possessed-“

“Yes! I’m positive- I need to get some more information on this Re-incarnation spell Solidus
somehow left behind. Dumbledore has also mysteriously disappeared, and from the books
I’ve researched, there aren’t many leads, just the fact that it needs a physical object to
contain the host’s essence-“

“The Sword of Gryffindor- that has to be it!” Ron said.

“Exactly. All of this began with that sword- now look what it has done to him. Ron, what if,
what if something bad happens to him? What if I can’t figure out a way?”

“I don’t know, let’s cross that bridge when it comes, okay? You’ve never let us down before,
come to think about it, you’ve saved all of us when we needed it most, hell, even more than
once! I believe in you,” Ron said softly, putting her arm around her shoulders. “Everything
will be all right, trust me.”

“Yeah, you’re right. If I try and force the answers out of nowhere, I’ll probably go crazy.
Come on, let’s finish that Charms essay- but remember, study group is at seven sharp. Be
there.”
“Okay okay...I hear you,” Ron complained good-naturedly. “I’ll be there, it’s a promise.” As
they both walked to their common room, Hermione remembered that promise both she and
Harry made together in Spain.

” No matter what happens, we’ll promise that we’ll try and make each other happy, and
look out for each other, even though we may be far apart. No matter what.”

Somehow, their present predicament was cancelling out any optimism she had of that
promise being kept.

*******************

“ Re-incarnate Possession, you say?” Randalf Ravenclaw said in wonder. “Are you sure? I
never heard of such a thing!” Dumbledore had taken nearly the whole evening to explain
the events of the past seven years of Harry’s life. “This- boy, you speak about, he is indeed
talented. A first of many things- youngest quidditch, tri-wizard champion, member of the
Order- and now, commander of the S.T.A.R. Elite: Harry Potter is the Boy who Lived. It
seems he is much more than just that. I presume Voldemort’s brief possession curse a few
years ago has broken the barrier of the Divine Protection his mother has given him while
young…. This is very complex, Albus,” Ravenclaw said heavily. “I -er, I don’t know if I
should…”

“We did not travel across the Atlantic for nought, we need your help!” Dumbledore said
urgently. Remus was the only other person privy to this conversation. The desperation in his
voice was disturbing. Albus Dumbledore rarely was one to panic, or feel threatened.

“Yes, I know. I – I ...need to tell you something Albus. You have spoken about a deduction
from the analysis of the stars- er, the Centaur, Firenze; was it? And he said : One of the
two strongest wizards has finally emerged, and if the other joins him in battle, they will set
this earth asunder with the second Great War, one that could rival the first battle that split
the four founders into strife?” Ravenclaw sighed heavily, as if the weight of the world was
slowly being released from his shoulders. “He is indeed correct.”

“What do you mean?” Dumbledore asked.

“This prophecy is not something that is new to me, Albus,” Randalf said with a heavy heart.
“Even through all of our decades of correspondence, you have kept my true last name
secret, and not told anyone of my true lineage. I know it appeared as the coward’s way out,
leaving Hogwarts and leading a reclusive muggle life- but it was more than that. Like Potter,
my life has been outlined by a dire prophecy. Even the emergence of Voldemort could not
change my mind to re-enter the wizarding world. The renowned seer at the time- the Blind
Witch Genevieve knew my secret, and on the day of our Graduation, she approached me on
the grounds. I broke into the Department of Mysteries two years afterwards and retrieved
my orb,” he got up, and opened a small dark chest, producing a slightly glowing orb.

“You broke into the Ministry of Magic?” Remus asked incredulously. “At nineteen?”

“Hmph. Don’t sound so alarmed, didn’t your Potter boy do the same at fifteen, and faced
down grown murderers to boot? It was nothing,” he shrugged. “This is what she told me:
You, the heir of Rowenna Ravenclaw, have shown the potential to be one of the four
chosen. On precisely this day- I have been cursed to die- but not before the prophecy of
millennia must be revealed.

It has been foretold that once the two greatest of allies- yet now the most vicious of
nemesis: Gryffindor and Slytherin, will reunite as brothers in arms on the field of blood and
sand. Secrets of hidden lineage will be exposed, and the Goddess of Nature shall be raped
of her bounty, bringing forth once again those who call upon the Earth, Air, Fire and Water
as their allies. Out of the ashes, a Phoenix will re-awaken, and will shine the torch of light
through the darkness. Do not shy away his words, Randalf the Wise, for only the heirs of
Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff could prevent the Second Fall of the age of wizards. From all
corners of the globe there will be four signs- The Life Giving Circle, The Staff of Knowledge,
The Sword of Death, and finally – The Reign of Fire.

I will give you some help, Randalf. No matter how dire or how important the situation, you
are not to engage yourself in wizarding matters until the true time has come. Future
generations of our kind will cease to exist if you are fallen before your time. You must live
as a secret until what I have told you comes to bear, and by then you will be already have
acquired the Staff of Knowledge, and will guide the wielder of the Halo of Life in her mission
against the Dark Sons of Magic. My time is no longer mine: Farewell….

And then she died right there, on the spot, standing her own two feet. It was horrible-
seeing her face turn grey and lifeless, and within a matter of seconds, her body had turned
to dust and she blew away with the wind. That’s when I came back into the main hall during
the graduation dance, and told you I had to go. It was the most terrifying day of my life, to
leave everything behind. You were like a brother to me, Albus.”

“And you to me. Your disappearance was indeed a shock to all of us...”

“It was kinda fun at first, running away- I was a wild one back then. But after the years
passed, the loneliness crept in. I needed to be able to socialize with other wizards, instead
of secretly using my magic in the muggle world. That’s when I mailed you for the first time.”

“I remember it well- I had just graduated as a Charms Specialist in the Auror division at
Lionheart. You would have excelled there, Randy,” Dumbledore said solemnly. The pieces
came together now the new prophecy Firenze mentioned was indeed true, but now that he
knew of it in more detail, he realized how much of this was happening right under his nose,
but he had failed to catch on. How much time did they have?

“When you owled me about Cassandra Trelawny ordering you to search for the Phoenix- I
knew this for sure this prophecy wasn’t any fluke. That’s why I helped you then-“

“Tell me Randalf,” Dumbledore interrupted. “Did she give you a time frame?”

“Not that I know of…”

“Do you know anything about Divine Summoning?” Dumbledore asked.

“Not much. I just know that it’s extremely rare- only the most talented magi are prone to
any substantial spell casting in that field.”

“Well that is no longer in question. The person we are talking about is extremely talented,
even rivals me at the age of seventeen in the arts of Occlumency and Leglimency. Remus- it
was so obvious- Helga Hufflepuff; who was herself not of pure lineage- one who also was
compassionate to those she found not treated equally, and wished for the well being and
benefit of all, her heir walks among us.”

“Hermione?” Remus breathed, comprehension dawning on his face. He looked at the

innocuous walking cane at Randalf’s side. It was now all so clear- Hermione controlled the
Halo of Life, Harry was the heir of Gryffindor, and commanded his sword- Randalf had the
Staff and was a direct descendent of Rowenna Ravenclaw. And as for the other wizard, the
missing link: Draco Malfoy was a summoner of the Infernus or in other words- the Reign of
Fire! “ And the other wizard is Malfoy…”

“Indeed,” Dumbledore said darkly, pulling on his beard.

“Professor! Do you know what this means? What have we done? We pushed those two
together, and now both of them are training together in the Auror division! The prophecy
says that ’they will reunite as brothers in arms on the field of blood and sand’. Are we too
late?"

“Huh? What do you mean?” Randalf said.

“The two strongest are now known, as well as the ones who could stop this oncoming
Armageddon. Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy are the heralded ones, while you-“ Dumbledore
looked at his childhood friend solemnly “- And a muggle-born girl at my school, Hermione
Granger, are the ones to stop them. Solidus Gryffindor must be exorcised before Harry
turns eighteen in July, or else all we have fought for will be for nothing.”

****************

Rebecca Lestrange swam as fast as she could, watching in desperation as the Sea Veela
took her men further and further away. The water was almost impossible to peer through,
the viscousity thicker than usual. What was this spell?

Putting the obstacles to the back of her mind, she dredged on without thought, only wanting
to do her team proud. Harry had told her something that Alastor had once told her, and it
touched her deeply that he, merely a young man at seventeen would have the place of mind
and maturity so far beyond his years.

” I won’t let anyone on my team die….”

If he could dedicate himself to others like that, then she will give her life for the cause as
well. She would rescue them, no matter what. With a newfound fervour, she swam deeper
into the murky depths of the underwater caves. Entering the large hole she last saw them
enter, she swam for almost a minute in almost pitch-black darkness until she saw a bright
light shimmering at the surface far above. Swimming determinedly towards the light, she
chose to remain just under the surface until she could assess the situation.

“Point me,” she ordered her wand, letting it guide her to her teammates. It aimed straight
ahead, into that light above the surface. She broke the surface of the water, and took a
quick look at her surroundings. It appeared that she was transported into a hidden palace;
where white marble tiles and extravagant statues dominated throughout the sparse and
spotless décor. The seawater splashed harmlessly against the cool tiles of the bottom step
of a wide stairway leading to an entrance. Rebecca Lestrange climbed out, and removed the
bubblehead charm.

Rapping her wand on herself, she disappeared into the background as the Disillusionment
hex put her into her silent killing mode. Drawing her assassin’s blade, she entered the
building silently, the only sign of her presence the wet footsteps trailing behind her.

**************

“Sister, another female has dared enter our sanctuary,” Anna said.

“Yes, I have sensed her since she set foot inside. Who wants to do it?” Hannah responded

“Wait- I think she habours feelings for the dark haired one- the one who we cannot see
inside. There is something strange about him, a dual personality resides in him…” Anna
mused.

“What are you saying?” Anne interjected.

“Maybe we could use her to break him… he is not ready for the sacrificial mating as yet. I
want all of his power, so he must release his hold on it.” Anna explained.

“I volunteer to capture her, but I shall claim the spoils as well…” Hannah offered.

“I want the blonde one-“ Anne declared. “He is the coldest out of those four, I will make
love to him until he gives his soul to me willingly. I love the challenge.”

“Well girls, this is it. I will take the raven -haired one- Anne the blond, and Hannah the
woman and the two others. Remember we don’t want to have to split anyone down the
middle, it proved to make intercourse quite messy. So let’s not quarrel this time, okay?”
Anna reasoned.

“Agreed.”

“Sounds fair.”

“Time to feed girls, bon apetit!”

The three Sirens giggled, and raced back to the main room, where each of the four men
were chained unto the sparkling white floor, their limbs spread in a large ‘X’ while beautiful
slave girls fed them grapes, fruits and wine. On sight of their three masters, the enslaved
women averted their eyes and immediately left the main love chamber.

“Don’t you think the Irish slave looked at us too intently? Maybe she needs another
session.”

“She is fresh is she not? We need new stock, the muggle ships have been avoiding here for
a long while now. Our last meal was from some of those Azkaban men, whose magic was so
low that it wasn’t even worth the swim to the surface.”

“Ooh- remember Rodulphus? He was special, extraordinary. He was the first and only man
to escape our clutches- If it were possible, I’ll bed him for free. What a guy!”

“She has reached the inner court. I will be back,” Hannah said. Anne and Annah approached
the two young men, both of them following their progress through glazed eyes.

“Let…me …go…” Draco said hoarsely, his brow covered in perspiration.

“You are the resilient one, aren’t you? Why can’t you be more accepting like your friend
over there?” Anne said, straddling him and unbuttoning the clasp of his cloak. “My my,
young, fresh meat! How old are you, young warrior?”

“Fuck…you..” Draco forced through gritted teeth. Anne smiled seductively, pulling his
bottom lip with the tip of her finger.

“Now, now- I’ll ask nicely once again…” she said in dulcet tones, “ How old are you?”

“S-s-s even..teen..” Draco said unwillingly as his cloak and scar went sailing over her head.
He forced his eyes shut, but the weight of her pressed against him was impossible to ignore.
If he gave up now, there was no chance for any of them. He was probably the only one who
could resist…

“I HAVE HER!” Hannah exclaimed- Rebecca Lestrange levitating in front of her, noticeably
twitching as she tried to fight off the binding spell on her. “It was so simple actually-“

“AVADA KEDAVRE!” came a shout from a seemingly blank stretch of wall, a bright green
flash shooting straight the Hannah. It caught her flush in the chest- she screamed in agony,
transforming into a disgusting multi-tentacle monster with the face of a woman, writhing
and twitching until she collapsed in an inked filled puddle, slithering around in a squid like
form. Just as Rebecca was about to curse another, Anne shrieked loudly, falling Rebecca
with only the power of her voice. Rebecca screamed and her Clone spell disappeared
instantly as she clasped both hands over her ears as she fell to the ground.

I can’t fail now, the Commander and the team needs me! Rebecca get up, even if you must
endure the pain and go deaf- do so willingly and get the job done!

Even through the piercing noise, Rebecca got up, her legs trembling. Shakily, she drew her
blade once again, and ran off balance to the closest one, blood dripping out her ears. In the
next instant, the other Siren disappeared and reappeared behind her. Anne grabbed her by
her hair, yanking back on it with ferocity. Rebecca fell hard, the wind knocked out of her.
Without warning, chains emerged from hidden compartments in the floor, wrapping around
her wrists and ankles in a blink of an eye.

“Oh- so you thought you could enter our haven and challenge us? Anna, how is she?” Anne
looked at the pulsating mass of slimy tentacles and dark green body of their fallen sister.

“She’s hurt badly, forced into reverting to our true form. How dare she! Let’s kill her now!”
Anna said vehemently.

“No, no no, I rather we allow her men folk to watch her suffer first.” With cool precision
Anne took Rebecca’s knife and slit open the front of her robes and tunic from neck to crotch.
Another few precision cuts and Rebecca’s uniform lay in neatly diced rags about her.

“Interesting. This is a hunter’s weapon?” Anne mused, watching the deadly curve of the
blade. “Excellent, whatever self regenerating spells you mortals use will not work against
wounds inflicted by this masterpiece of a weapon. What’s a pretty girl like you doing with
such a horrible thing?” she asked sweetly, then proceeded to gently probe her forearm with
it until the tip pierced the skin. Rebecca’s eyes grew wide as she felt the edge cut her skin,
drawing a large pearl of blood.

“Wha-t what are you going to do to me?” she asked fearfully.

“ I am going to cut you up, nice and slow, each one a little bigger than the last. Look here-
you see-, this cut is barely a pinprick. Unfortunately for you, there is a lot of skin on a
human body, and I have a lot of time to indulge in my fantasies. Here we go-“

Once again she prodded her skin, piercing the soft flesh a bit deeper this time. Rebecca
tried to remain calm, but her heart was beating so fast she began to panic.

“My, your body is perfect. So smooth, such flawless skin, the pinnacle of youth. Oh I was
young once as well,” she said lightly, prodding her skin once more. “How long do you think
you will last, beautiful one?” Rebecca sucked in her breath as she felt this one sink into her
ribs. She would not scream, neither cry.

“Brave sort aren’t you?” Again, deeper and larger this time, in her right shoulder. Rebecca
would not show any signs of fear. She will endure until she figured out a way-

“Sister! Kill her!”

“You do not know the fine arts of torture- the anticipation makes it so much sweeter,”
again, on the meet of her thigh, drawing the blade two centimetres down. Rebecca gasped,
her skin clammy.

“You- you’re going to die!” She hissed vehemently at her captor.

“Your strongest magic spell is only enough to injure. You mere mortals cannot slay us.”
Again she inserted the blade, this time in her bicep. And again- her stomach, and again
here and again there, until the accumulative little cuts were slowly making a pattern on her
skin, and each and every one was worse than the one before. Her whole being burned and
screamed in protest as the sting multiplied tenfold with each new cut. She thought she
could hold out, but after a half an hour had passed and her body was peppered with slices,
her tears were running freely and she was begging her to stop.

“Please, no more…” she said through the haze of pain. She was covered in her own blood,
pain shooting up at every nerve ending. The pain was bearable, but the thought of this
lasting well into the night and the next day would drive her insane.

“You want a break? Very well- I will mate with your man in front of your face, and suck out
his life force, making me younger, and more desirable than before! Then afterwards, I’ll
have my way with you. Enjoy the show… darling…”

“You whore monster. Even if you kill me, I will haunt you and kill you in your sleep!”
Rebecca cursed her.

“Nothing you do will be able to kill me. We fear only death itself, and you, my bleeding one,
is not him,” Anne said smugly. Rebecca looked at her strangely, then at Potter, who was
now in the same dazed stupor as the rest of them, totally enraptured in their spell. Didn’t
the report say that Karkaroff was scared to death by unnatural magic? She knew that Potter
was many things- but could it be?
She had to wake him up! “Harry!” she screamed. “ HARRY!” she screamed again. No
response. What could she expect, he didn’t respond to her scream for the past ten minutes.
Racking her brain- she remembered an offhand joke about Lucius Malfoy talking to her
brother about trying to get the Sirens to join the dark lord.

“ It’s like the Imperius curse on your cock…or so the legend goes. Would make a blast as a
party joke huh?”

The Imperious Curse huh? Well the one way to counter it was a sudden spike in pain. She
had a plan a desperate plan considering the odds, but she had no choice. She focused on
Draco Malfoy, his sneering face, and his callous attitude towards how he killed Alastor. Her
Alastor, the only one who ever loved her, and the only person who she referred to as
‘father’. Summoning all of her hate, she drew her breath, and shouted in their general
direction:

“CRUCIO!”

Both Sirens turned about at the deep sounds, watching her quizzically. At first, there was a
baffled look on their face, but a second later, the brightly lit palace went dark, and the
temperature rose dramatically. There were the sounds of popping chains, and the shuffling
of two pairs of feet.

“About time,” Draco’s voice growled, two spots of flame hovering against the darkness.
“Lestrange, next time, use your head. Potter, what’s the call? You or me?” Harry was
watching the bloodied mess that was Rebecca Lestrange. Inside, he felt a rising turmoil.
There was a force stronger than him gaining ground on his soul. Both men stood to their full
height, watching the Sirens slink away in fear.

“Who is the one who did that to her? Stand forward and reveal yourself.”

“No sister, don’t!” Anna said fearfully.

“What are you?” the other asked in fearful curiosity. “You…. It can’t… no - It is you! How are
you still alive?”

“ I am not surprised you remember me. After all- I was the one who destroyed
your heathen woman clan and their ungodly ways. I should never have left you
three alive. No matter- ” Harry took one step forward, and grabbed her fist. “This time,
die by your own hand…” he forced the blade clutched in her grasp into her own chest-
the anti magical weapon sinking deep into her heart.

No! Why are you doing this?

Draco took an involuntary step back. The siren died right there on the spot, her eyes going
blank as she crumpled at his feet. Pulling out the blade, he wiped it clean on her skin. Anna
was frozen to the spot, not daring to move. Harry walked passed her without further notice,
and stooped near to Rebecca Lestrange. Drawing his wand, he tapped the chains binding
her, and covered her with his cloak of the Order of the Phoenix.

“Free the others,” he ordered to no one in particular. Anna nervously waved her fingers,
and the chains disappeared. “Come- we are leaving,” he ordered Draco and the other
men, cradling Rebecca in his arms. Her blood was soaking into his cloak, and he looked
down at her numerous injuries. Draco Malfoy helped the two other men to their feet, and
Harry closed his eyes for a second. The room felt as if it was closing in around them.
Draco’s breathing became laboured- then suddenly he felt a strong pull from behind his
navel.

He tumbled to his knees, they were back on the top of Siren’s rock, their broomsticks still
there where they left them. Harry closed his eyes briefly, and when they reopened, they
were back to normal. “There it is- the island fort off Siren’s rock. We need to set up our
Portkey station, and get her some attention as soon as possible. She’s passed out. The
teleportation took too much out of her.”

Draco just stared at Harry, his expression blank. He came up close to him, and said in his
ear: “Bloody hell, Potter! How can you be so, normal about this? Don’t you feel anything?”

Harry just looked at Rebecca, another person who had to pay for his stupidity. He should
have prepared his team better. Now the two others were severely traumatized, and she was
physically incapacitated by anti magical wounds. They would not be easily treated.
Hopefully, he would be able to get Hermione to help.

“I- I… just leave it alone, Malfoy. We have a job to do. Let me handle my own problems,”
Harry said softly.

“You need to check that out. It’s getting scarier every time,” Draco said. Harry nodded to
get him off his back

“When we set up base, return here with a proper Deafening Hex and destroy this entire
rock. Use your Volcano spell. ” Harry tapped his foot on the stone beneath his feet. “Come
on, I need to get her to St. Mungo’s. DeFontaine, Warshire, don’t worry, you’ll be home
soon.”

***************

Author's note: I shall be continuing with the never before seen chapter and posting it soon.
After a short hiatus, Nedved is back in business. Respect!

Chapter 19: The Dark Sons of Magic

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**CHAPTER 19: The Dark Sons of Magic**

“Do you feel it?”

“Feel what?” Harry responded.

“The Veil’s power.” Draco’s memories shot back to two years ago- when he had come here
to face Voldemort. “It was damn close that night,” he continued, walking alongside him
through the halls of the abandoned fortress. The main hall was just as he remembered,
weeds sprouting through the cracks in the floor, a missing block here and there in the walls-
rusted suits of armour and cannon barrels left scattered about to rot; a medieval graveyard.

Harry remembered far too well what happened that fateful night on his sixteenth birthday.
The Avada kedavra…the flash of green- the paralyzing effect on his heart...Voldemort had
won. If it weren’t for Hermione…and the Halo…

I actually died that night. It was more than just 'close'…

“Yeah. I still have nightmares about this place. Come on-“ Harry said tersely, changing
topic. The mid-afternoon sun peeked through the square windows high on the wall, and dust
floated through the air as the two men marched towards the internal center courtyard. With
each passing step- the whispers of lost souls echoed into their heads, encouraging them to
revel in their torment of the damned.

Draco hesitated. Harry took a few more strides before he realized something was wrong.
“What?”

“I can...hear them…”

“Yeah. So can I. Come on,” Harry said a bit irritably.

..Yes, young Malfoy… you can hear them. So did I… and with a little bit of my
assistance...the power of the dead can also be yours…

“Got a bad feeling about this,” Draco muttered, ignoring the voice of the Lord Voldemort
whispering to him. He was not going insane.

“Since when do we ever have the easy stuff to do? Quit stalling- let’s check it out, that’s
what we’re here for.” Harry pushed open the door to the main courtyard- the sunlight
streaming directly into this face. He shaded his eyes from the sun, squinting as they slowly
readjusted to the difference in light. There, just as it was that horrific night two years ago-
stood the Veil of the Unknown , apparently unaffected by the conditions. An image flashed
before him- Voldemort, welcoming him and Malfoy, his arms splayed high as he displayed
his prized captives- the entire Order of the Phoenix, floating high above the Veil.

“Look- this is where I used the Eruptus summon,“ Draco peered down into a whole about six
feet in diameter- it’s bottomless depth giving the impression of a pathway to hell. He
grinned. “ Oh, and there’s your signature,” he pointed. Harry looked at the huge crater near
the wall, about twenty-five feet wide and about ten feet deep. Rubble was spewed about in
huge blocks of stone and mortar, grass already sprouting from the soil underneath.

This is where they had settled their first duel to the death. Harry walked over to the edge of
the crater, and peered down. At the bottom was a gash- a gash that he knew would fit the
blade of Gryffindor perfectly. It was the hole left from where he had sent Voldemort to his
doom; piercing him right through his chest. Harry began to laugh. Draco looked at him
incredulously.

“What’s so funny?” Draco demanded. Had Potter completely lost it? This was where he
defeated Voldemort!

“I sent him to hell once. I would never have thought that they would spit him back out,”
Harry said solemnly. “ Not even a whole year later- he came back to life. Is he immortal? Is
he really, and finally, dead?” Harry asked himself, looking pensively at the bottom of the
crater. Draco was about to respond when a voice stopped him.

…ha ha ha ha..

He scrunched his eyes, and took a deep breath. He was not going insane.

“Of course,” Draco said easily, knocking him once on the forehead. Harry flinched; watching
him as if he was going crazy to even think about, far less actually touch him. “ No scar,
golden boy. Do I need to spell it out for you? He is dead.”

…Am I?..

“Yeah- I know...” Harry began, absently kicking a rock into the hole. “ It’s just…he seemed
unstoppable for all those years, almost invincible. The Avada kedavra curse rebounded unto
him, yet he didn’t die. What do you do when not even death itself can stop such a man?
Seventeen years Malfoy…he returned from the dead three times already. I don’t know, I feel
...uneasy.” Draco just scoffed at him.

“Do you see what’s behind us? It’s the fucking Veil of Death! Of course you’ll feel uneasy-
that’s the Ministry’s gallows! ” Draco folded his arms and sneered. “Hmph. For the S.T.A.R.
Elite...you’re not so smart, you know that, Potter?” Harry ignored him, his hair blowing in
the wind as he peered into the crater. He’s right. He’s not immortal. No one is. “So are we
ready? Do we set up the Portkey station?”

“Not yet. Give me a fire- I’ve got to talk to someone. Let us confirm our findings to
Kingsley.” Draco nodded, and summoned forth a fire to burn merrily in the stones of the
rubble. Harry dug in his pouch, and produced a small parcel. Untying it, he threw some of
the green floo powder into the flames.

“Ministry of Magic- Auror Division!” he commanded, and the flames sparked brightly.

“Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please give your authorization code for direct Auror
Services,” said the female voice belonging to the Ministry building.

“S.T.A.R. Elite Commander Potter, Class 2 clearance. Code 5-5-6-7-9-3. Patch me in to

Kingsley,” Harry said in a clear voice.

“Very well, Commander. Please hold.” Draco tapped his shoe impatiently as the flames
danced aimlessly for a few seconds.

“Why do we need to call him?” Draco asked irritably. “All we have to do is set up the
Portkey station, and get the fuck out of here.” Harry didn’t even turn his head as he
responded in a soft voice.

“I want to ask a favour of the ministry.”

“What’s tha-” Draco began, but was cut off by the head appearing in the fires.

“Kingsley here. Potter, what is the status?” Kingsley’s head appeared in the flames.

“We have our Objective- the Veil is here. As for the structure itself, it is somewhat run
down, but the building’s foundation is still good. It’ll serve well as a replacement detention
center.”

“Good. Where are the others?” Kingsley said. Harry’s face dropped a bit.

“They need medical attention,” Harry began, his voice dropping. “ All three have suffered
injuries.”

“I’ll send a unit right away-“ Kingsley began.

“No, Wait- I ..I… need a favour,” Harry cut him off. “There’s no need for them to come here.
Just send the M.A.R.S. officials and the Ergomancers* to set up shop here for the moment.
The medical unit is not required, sir.”

“You don’t need a healer unit? So… what do you want?”

“I’d like an escort for Miss Hermione Granger to St Mungo’s. Please owl Deputy
Headmistress Pompfrey and tell her that I’ll need her student for a few days to treat one of
ours.”

“Wait a moment. ‘Granger’? Hermione Granger? Why do we need her?”

“She has a unique healing ability- she controls magic dealing with the essence of life. She’s
a Divine Summoner..”

“A Divine Summoner, you say?” Kingsley asked, impressed.

“I’ll need…. I’ll need a full battalion to accompany me to Hogwarts…”

“A full Battalion?” Kingsley asked, amazed. “Forty-two Aurors? Why? Is there danger?”
Kingsley was astounded, his eyes opening wide.

“I’m not taking any chances. It seems that Voldemort’s men have targeted her.
Unfortunately, I cannot protect her by myself in my present condition,” Harry confessed.
Facing the Dementors and being under the Siren’s spell for so long had him feeling
completely drained. Not to mention Solidus’ presence creating a persistent fatigue in his
mind. “ I’m sending Malfoy here to deal with the immediate threat to well…er... anyone who
comes near here, and then he will oversee the setting up of the Portkey stations-” he looked
across to him meaningfully. Draco nodded, a bit disgruntled- that meant he was stuck here
for a few more days at least. But he knew why Harry was doing this. He felt personally
responsible for his teammates’ conditions, and felt compelled to make sure that they were
seen after. “I will transport Warshire, DeFontaine and Lestrange to St. Mungo’s. After that,
tell your men to report to me at the Ministry of Magic.” Kingsley frowned at that piece of
information, but eventually nodded. If Harry said he thought she was a target and he could
not protect her at the moment, he’ll trust his instincts.

“Done.” There was another moment’s silence. Kingsley was studying Harry’s expression.
Something was seriously wrong. “Potter, what happened to them?” Kingsley asked softly.

“Sir, ah- severe Dementor trauma and an hour long duration of Siren’s Curse on Sol and
Steven. Rebecca is in a bad way. She lost a significant amount of blood and definitely nerve
damage. All three are in temporary stasis wards for the time being. Sol and Steven are not
too badly off, but Agent Lestrange is in critical condition.”
“How did it happen?”

“She was physically tortured.”

Another tense silence ensued.

“I see. I’ll get your escort for you.” Harry nodded briefly, Kingsley’s cool demeanor cutting
him to the core. For some reason, Harry wanted to apologise, even though they were all
professionals and knew the risks every time they went on the job. But, in both missions
under his command, Rebecca was almost killed. Harry knew the Auror Division Master had
an almost fatherly connection with her since Alastor died, but never was allowed to show it
due to the nature of the profession. Harry didn’t know what to say.

“Er-“ Harry began. Kingsley’s face darkened.

“She knew the risks. I’ll expect your report by Thursday,” he said, cutting the conversation
short. Harry ran his hands through his hair as the flames died down.

“Fuck,” Harry cursed, rubbing his face with his hand. Draco once again surveyed the Veil of
the Unknown, his blond hair whipping in front of his face as grey clouds brewed high above.
He looked up to the sky. A storm was coming.

“If she used her head, she would have known that she would have a better chance in
defeating them if she got us freed first. Lestrange rushed in there like an idiot, blasting
away without a plan-“

“Malfoy,” Harry said in a warning tone. “She jeopardized her safety for ours. Be grateful you
are alive. Just go- and burn it down, the whole fucking reef. I don’t care how you do it.
When you return, I’m leaving you in charge here. Archibald Silas is the main Ergomancer
from the Unmentionable division- he’ll begin the preparations when he reaches. He’s the
man in charge of lingering Curses and Blight Casualties at St. Mungo’s. Tell him that the
M.A.R.S. team will come and discuss the drawing up of the plans for the new detention
facility.”

“You’re going back to London, then.”

“Yes,” Harry said tiredly.

“What about the muggle slaves?” Draco asked, probing the waters. Harry thought about it
for a few seconds.

“Rescue who you can. It will be difficult to infiltrate again, though.” Harry’s brow creased at
the memory of what they did to Rebecca. He couldn’t possibly forgive them. “Forget that.
Your priority is to destroy Siren’s rock. If there is resistance, take no prisoners,” Harry said
reluctantly.

“Now you’re talking my language,” Draco grinned, and took off on his broom. Harry watched
him go, his shoulders feeling heavy with the amount of responsibilities weighing on him.
Picking up an oddly shaped rock, he pulled out his wand and rapped it, creating the first
point of the Portkey station.

“Portus!”
There. All he needed to do now was to go back to London and create other point of the
initial loop. From there on, the M.A.R.S. team would be able to produce a substantial
network of Portkeys and Floo Fires. He was dead tired, almost on the verge of collapse. The
adrenaline had long since worn off, and now he was on his last legs. Walking back out of the
abandoned fort, he approached the three remaining members of his team. All were glowing
in a hazy blue cocoon, each in their own medical stasis field. Levitating them all into arms
reach, Harry took up a sharp rock and encircled the three bodies on the floor of the outer
courtyard. Using his little circle as an average, he began his Teleportation spell. Crouching
low, he closed his eyes, feeling the circle constrict around him. Sensing the proximity of the
three unconscious bodies next to him- he felt his magic spike, then breathing became
difficult. The air around him imploded, and they were gone.

*Ergomancer- Sorcerer specializing in Magical Biology and Long term Spell wards. Notorious
for their ability to Siphon out magic from deluded criminals.

***********************

On the other side of the world, three powerful wizards were having a grand feast. The one
seated in the middle took a moment from chewing on his food, contemplating his next move
carefully.

“We leave tonight, Albus,” Randalf Ravenclaw said discreetly, tilting back another gulp from
his mug. The village festival was in full swing, and Randalf, Remus and Professir
Dumbledore were seated at the middle of the long dining table, watching on with rapt
interest at the dance show on display. The dancers moved on cue to the huge drums of the
Amazon, the huge bonfire setting aglow the lithe bodies of the young men and women who
flipped and twirled on their hands in their age old mixture of dance and martial arts. Music
rang through the jungle village, and Remus Lupin was completely blown away by the agility
of these people and their love for dance and song. He grinned, taking another sip of his
drink. Turning to his left, he saw something flash between the two wizards next to him, and
deduced that they had agreed on their departure time.

“Under cover of the quarter moon is the best time. When the wine and food is nearing its
completion, we will leave by the south west exit.”

“Agreed. Will you say goodbye to them?” Albus asked, nodding at the men and women who
Randalf considered his family. He shook his head.

“You know me, not a very good one at saying goodbyes...” Randalf chuckled.

“You’ll come back, don’t worry.” Remus encouraged. Randalf looked at him amusedly.

“I doubt it. But who knows … Oh, and another thing Dumbledore-”

“What is it?”

“What do you think of flying coach?” Randalf chuckled.

“What? By jet?” Remus said.

“If you speak of using the airplanes, I have never had the experience of doing so,”
Dumbledore mused, his eyes twinkling.

“Well, I totally failed my apparation exam way back when, so guess coach it is!” Ravenclaw
laughed, and once again attacked his food, eating and drinking to his hearts delight. “Come,
the time for departure is not now- let us eat, and let me say goodbye to Brazil in the proper
way, by celebrating its people!” he laughed, and clapped as the combatants flipped and
kicked at each other, their dance totally in sync to the beat of the drums.

**********************

She stood there alone, unafraid. His presence was unmistakable, even at this far distance.
Now that he was back to full strength, she could feel his magic potential screaming at her.
She could not believe how foolish she and her sisters were, trying to capture one such as
him.

And the frightening thing about it, he wasn’t even the strongest one in their group. He
hovered there, looking down at her with an almost pitiful expression. Anne knew that only
her words would spare her tonight.

“Wait. I knew you’d come back. Are you here to finish what he has started?”

“It depends.”

“Depends on what, m'lord?”

Draco grinned. That was a good response. The sole survivor of the three sirens knew when
she was beaten. When he arrived here and saw her wearing a long cloak he knew that she
was aware of his purpose. He alighted on Siren’s Rock, his cloak buffeting in the wind.
Pulling back his long blonde hair, he draped the hood of his Combat robes over his head.

“On your next choice. Do you wish to live, or do you want to die? Kiss the ring on my finger,
and swear your allegiance to me.”

Anna curtsied, and knelt down on the sharp stones on Siren’s rock, her head bowed low.
She took his hand, and kissed the ring on his middle finger.
“I swear loyalty to you, m'lord. Will you show leniency and spare my life?”

“Give me your right arm,” Draco commanded. “Be grateful. I have chosen you to be the first
of many,” Draco said, eyeing her deceptive beauty. Staring into her baby blue eyes, Draco’s
eyes burned as the Infernus came to life. There was a small trail of smoke, and a sudden
intake of breath as Anna hissed in pain. An ugly red blotch appeared on her forearm, and
she looked down at it. There was a dark outline of an indecipherable symbol, a new tattoo
burnt into her skin. It was a lopsided seven-pointed star with a flame symbol in the heart of
it.

“What is it?” She asked fearfully.

“It is the seal of the Infernus. When I summon you, you are to come immediately. If you
value your life, do not stay here.” Draco ordered, turning his back to her.
“Where am I to go? I cannot apparate!” she pleaded.

“Well, start swimming,” he said calmly, raising his arms to the sky. Outstretching his fingers
to the sun, he breathed in deeply, drawing magic from the very air around him. The ocean
wind disappeared, the waves unnaturally still as the ambient temperature skyrocketed. His
fingers began to glow red, then both arms ignited in fire. Slowly harnessing the power of
the sun, he brought his palms down together in prayer.

“Inciendo Eruptus Maxima!”

The ground beneath Anna’s feet began to tremble, then shake violently. Draco stood there
motionless, his eyes closed as he felt magic swirling all about him. The waves began to
crash into each other as underwater tremors disrupted the natural flow of the tides. His
hood blew off from his head, the dark cloak splaying wide with the unnatural magic. Anna
froze as she watched the blonde man’s hair come alive, his arms ablaze as the earthquake
grew stronger and stronger. Without any more encouragement, she jumped into the sea
and began to swim away. Draco grabbed his broomstick and took off into the sky, heading
back towards the desolate island fort.

Minutes later, as Draco descended; the whole top of the underwater mountain blew off with
an ear bursting explosion, spewing molten lava miles into the air. The entire sky turned red,
and Draco grinned as the black snow began to fall. The thick smoke danced in the sky,
casting the afternoon into a hellish red haze. Draco stared up at the towering fountain of
molten rock, reveling in its ferocity.

Beautiful.

**********************

It was nightfall back in London. Harry was walking the streets wearily, the cloak of the
Order of the Phoenix folded in two and draped over his arm. To the untrained eye, his
appearance was as almost neat and immaculate as if it were the beginning of the day. His
combat trousers were tucked neatly into his Dragonhide boots, and the few wrinkles on his
tunic were barely visible. However, in the darkness of night, he could not be easily
recognised behind the thick scarf around his neck, and his unruly black hair blocked off a
good look at his face.

His eyes were hollow from exhaustion, the sickly pallor on his skin a telltale sign of fatigue.
Only a few blocks separated St Mungo’s from the Ministry of Magic, and even that felt like
miles. After teleporting the four of them over such a large distance, he wanted to pass out.
Sol and Steven were already being treated, but Rebecca Lestrange was a completely
different matter. They already had her in a Murtlap tank, floating limply in the healing
liquid. He would go to the office, and crash there for tonight.

Come tomorrow, he’ll head back to Hogwarts.

*******************
Albus Dumbledore gripped the armrests tightly, his nervousness causing the lights to flicker
once or twice. Remus couldn’t help but smile.

“Professor, are you okay?”

“Why yes, I’m fine,” Dumbledore smiled, his knuckles white as they went in for landing.

“You’re looking kind of pale-“ Remus snickered.

“On, it is nothing,” Dumbledore gritted through his teeth. “ Just a bit, speculative of a metal
bird three hundred feet in length actually flying..”

“We’re nearly there- look, you see the river? We’re back home.”

“And not a moment too soon, eh Randalf. Oh dear,” Dumbledore mused.

“What?” Remus grinned. “ He’s still asleep…”

“Indeed. He was infamous for being able to sleep through all of his classes yet still ace
every exam. I was quite jealous in my youth.”

“Well, better wake him up. We’re here…”

“Remus, I just hope we are not too late…” Dumbledore said, letting his nerves ease as they
finally touched ground. He is never going back on one of those things again.

**********************

Harry did not sleep well. The calming draught he used to sleep was at Sirius’ manor, and
none were available at the Ministry of magic. He got up from the couch in the Auror lounge,
his whole body feeling battered and depleted. By the chill of the morning air, he knew that
dawn had not even fully arrived yet. Grabbing another spare uniform and a towel from his
locker, he went to the gym to shower and change. After dressing, he looked at the clock on
his way out. It read six thirty. Donning the Ministry’s cloak, then wrapping his father’s cloak
like a cape around that, he stepped out into the main hall, hoping to use the floo fires to
contact Jeremy Kingsley. He never would have expected to see this.

“Atten- HUT!”

Harry froze, still not believing it. Nearly four hundred men and women were there, neatly
lined up in parade ground military formation. All of them were Aurors, and they were
divided up into different sections, each having a slightly different insignia and piece of
apparel to identify their group from the others. All the Auror division heads were there,
Healer Division Captain Frederick Smethwyck; Combat Division Sergeant Warren Jacobsen (
Drill Sergeant Jacobsen as they nicknamed him); The Magical Accidental Reversal Squad
( M.A.R.S.) Captain Phil Abbott; Unmentionables’ Mystery man (they all wore scarves that
covered up to their nose and wore hats that were pulled low over their eyes) Archibald
Silas; Hex and Curse Control (H.A.C.K.) Lead investigator Romeo Delacour was also there;
Beastmaster Captain Antoine Ulysses and his men were here, and to his even further
surprise, Ministry Security Division Commander Ulrich Ferdinand also had his battalion
assembled.

All of the Division Commanders were standing at attention in front of their respective group,
their eyes looking straight ahead, each and every one of their men in full dress uniform.
Their parade ground formations were perfect, the military display of power a sharp contrast
to the flowery artwork and welcoming decor scattered about in the main hall of the Ministry
of Magic. Jeremy Kingsley walked forward to Harry casually, a sleepy expression on his face.

“Kingsley, what is going on here?” Harry whispered, his palms clasped behind his back,
trying to hide his nervousness.

“Well, I just gave an open invitation to the Auror divisions; a little memo stating that the
S.TA.R. Commander wanted an escort to accompany him. Seems that a few people were
willing, eh?”

A few?

“I knew I said I wanted a battalion, but the entire Auror fleet?!” Harry hissed softly, his face
not giving away that he was indeed still shocked out of his mind.

“Don’t be surprised, the Elite isn’t called that for sport. Any one of these guys here would
kill for a position in the Special Tactics squadron. Considering that you guys are the most
respected division despite your numbers, I don’t blame them. These opportunities are few
and far between for them. I didn’t have the heart to send anyone back to cause inter-
department animosity-“ he waved his arm in the general direction of the assembly- “so here
you are. I’ll leave the nit picking up to you,’ Kingsley chuckled.

“Is this a joke?”

“No. It’s dead serious. You have the authority to command any, or all, of these divisions at
any given time, including the regular police who outnumber the Aurors ten to one. That is
what your role is in the time of war- you command the military might of the British Ministry
of Magic as their Field commander. And as of now, we are ‘at war’ with the Azkaban
escapees. Diggory wants all of her resources at her disposal at the blink of an eye; she says
it’s no use having all of these divisions and they don’t do anything…” Kingsley shrugged.
“Seven divisions, roughly four hundred and sixteen Aurors. And if need be- the Lionheart
and Four Leaf Institutes’ graduates could also be drafted in to fight.”

Harry let that soak in. And here he thought he needed a ‘favour’ from Kingsley to assemble
an escort. All right, he’ll know what he’ll do. Clasping the Cloak of the Order of the Phoenix
around his Ministry uniform, he strode forward purposefully. He went up to the first
Commander, Frederick Smethwyck of the Healer Division.

“Give me your top five healers. Arch mage class and above.”

“Yes, Commander!” Smethwyck saluted him. In a clear voice he called out the five names.
“Ross! Clearwater! Julien! Emmanuel! Simmons!” Two wizards and three witches stepped
forward, saluting the Commander as he walked past. Harry nodded, and went over to his
combat Drill Instructor. He gave him a grim smile.

“Commander, it is good to see you. It seems my training has paid off,” Jacobsen smiled,
congratulating his top student.
“So it has, Sergeant, so it has. You know my standards. I want ten of your best men.”

“Done- Red team! You heard the man! Get in gear!” he barked, and ten out of the forty in
his group stepped forward. Harry was pleasantly surprised to see Nymphadora Tonks
wearing the squad leader’s armband. She smiled back at him. Harry nodded, and then kept
walking, his hands clasped behind his back as he inspected the other divisions. Taking three
here, two from the next, five from fifth division, and six each from the last two, he finally
had his escort.

“Come with me,” he ordered, and the thirty-two Aurors followed him. “Three of our
comrades have taken serious injury while in combat, and their wounds cannot be healed by
conventional magical ways. I know of a specialist healer who will be able to help. We need
to retrieve and escort her to St Mungo’s and provide twenty four hour security while she is
there.”

“So…what’s the catch, Commander?” Lillian Kelsing, a former S.T.A.R. trainee asked. She
was now a junior member in Nymphadora’s Red combat team.

“Unfortunately, she has been targeted by Voldemort’s men. During their autopsy Rogue
agent Ryan Mulciber as well as the Death Eater Karkaroff were reported to have been hexed
with the Omni spell. We must assume that what they saw before their deaths, the enemy
also has seen through the use of a Crystall ball. We know some very powerful Dark wizards
have been keeping an eye on me, therefore, they may even have knowledge of this
incursion.” He eyed each of them, silently warning them that they could be under
surveillance. “They have tried more than once to capture her, so by now they obviously
already know her potential. On top of that, apparently a dark wizard named Ash has
managed to produce four Elemental Magii, all of whom are extremely dangerous. I
personally dueled with one, and was lucky to come out of it alive.”

“Elementals?” Tonks asked, a knowing look on her face. “ Do you mean…Malf-“

“No- right now Agent Malfoy is leading the operation concerning the construction of the new
detention center. This will be a routine escort mission. The enemy is powerful, and I have a
suspicion they will try to attack our V.I.P. if she leaves without an escort. That’s where we
come in.” Nymphadora shook her head disbelievingly.

“Agent Malfoy? When did this happen?” Tonks asked, a knowing look on her face. The order
wanted him observed, but, he was made a Specialist? That was a bit much…

“Yes, ‘Agent’ Malfoy. Any more questions?”

“Yeah. Who is this healer person?” someone asked from the back.

“A student at Hogwarts, Hermione Granger.”

********************

In a small abandoned house in Little Winging, Surrey, a pretty bored wizard got a major
source of excitement- like a shock of pure ether to the system. This information had to be
perfect! Exceptional timing! He was now thinking about his little newfound bride-to-be, and
how he was going to get her. He couldn’t let this chance go to waste. Without hesitation, he
concocted a plan.

“Mac! Come and hear this! Macnair! Where are you?” he shouted up the stairs. Rodulphus
Lestrange was peering avidly into his crystal ball. Oh, how sweet it was!

The man in question trudged sleepily down the staircase, yawning widely. He was bareback,
and the battle scars he had accumulated over the years he wore proudly, a true supporter
of the Dark Lord. He went the distance, and lived to tell the tale.

“What is it now?”

“I have some interesting information,” Rodulphus teased, smiling knowingly at his comrade.
He’ll play this two ways, and come out with his prize bride. Hopefully Macnair would fall-
well, ‘go along’ with his little plan. “ Your mudblood fetish, remember her?” Macnair’s ears
immediately perked.

“Aye, what about her?” Macnair invited.

“It seems that she is to be escorted from Hogwarts to St Mungo’s, it seems that Potter’s
team,” he smiled, “Including himself, have been injured and want her to use her strange
magic, I am assuming she still has the Halo of Life- to heal them.”

Macnair assimilated that piece of information, pretty sure where he was going with this.
“Should we attack?”

“Need you ask?” Rodulphus grinned. “I remember you promised to and I open quote: ‘screw
her brains out’ – end quote, that night back in Hogsmeade, didn’t you? Well, now that
Potter is injured, this could be your one good chance at her. A few Regulars? We used to
have them for lunch before, and now that Moody isn’t around any more, even easier
pickings. How’s Frosty?”

“You don’t mean-“

“Of course! How often do muggles get to witness a Dragon in the middle of London? She’ll
be the excellent diversion, and the shock factor will give us the edge.” He peered into the
crystal ball again. “Utterly clueless,” he remarked, laughing at the congregation of aurors
speaking to the young man in the Ministry of Magic. “I count- er…about thirty-something of
them. As I said, piece of cake.” Heh- well for me that is. I’ll have a new bride by the end of
the day. Hopefully he will live long enough to spot Potter in the crowd.

Rodulphus Lestrange smiled evilly. Hopefully.

“What is in it for you?” Macnair asked, suspicious of this new scheme.

“I’m just giving a good friend an opportunity to fulfill his fantasies. Won’t you do the same
for me?

Macnair smiled evilly. I don’t think so.

“You have a point, my good friend,” Macnair said sarcastically.

“Well! It’s settled then. Off you go- it’s a bit of chill at Greenland. Grab your coat and bring
her back- Sweet little miss Granger is waiting. I know you had a lot of fun playing with
yourself after you saw Karkaroff with her in his grasp, almost naked (I must add) you sick,
old man,” Lestrange laughed, smacking his thigh with his palm. Macnair instantly reddened
with rage. He wanted nothing more than to kill him right now.

But that is all he could do- wish.

Now that there was no longer a leash restraining him, Rodulphus Lestrange was probably
the most cunning wizard he has ever met. That’s why he was highly suspicious of these
newfound developments. However, he was getting bored these days, and if he could get his
hands on that mudblood, he’ll have found himself a new toy to keep him occupied.

***************************

“Ah- back at last. It has been what- nearly twelve decades? Or thirteen?” Randalf asked his
old school friend as they walked into the halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and
Wizardry. Remus and Dumbledore were dead tired. After riding in a rented car with Randalf
at the wheel, the winding roads into Scotland felt like the roller coaster ride form hell.

It seems the word ‘brake’ was a foreign to the wily old wizard.

“It’s just as I remembered! Nothing has changed, not one bit-“

“And who may this be- whitey white hair and muggle clothes to wear?” Peeves the
Poltergeist shrieked. He threw a bottle of ink at him, hoping to greet their newcomer with a
bit of colour. Randalf simply smiled, and the next instant, the bottle feel lifelessly to the
ground, all of the ink dripping down Peeves, even in his phantom form. Peeves shrieked,
bawling at his soiled clothes. Never before has a physical object ever interacted with him.
He was usually the one doing the 'interacting'. Remus’ eyes bulged. Ravenclaw was indeed
powerful, without a wand or even a spoken incantation; he made that ink cross the
threshold of the physical plane to the supernatural, giving Peeves a does of his own
medicine.

As far as he knew, not even Dumbledore could do that.

“Ah- the current poltergeist is more of a troublemaker than a real demon isn’t he, Albus?
Well at least that has changed for the better. Is the Baron still around? He plays a mean
game of chess!”

“Yes, he is still here,’ Dumbledore smiled. “Come, I am sure you are tired, let me show you
to your quarters,” Dumbledore offered. Just then, Hagrid came barging through the door.

“PROFESSOR! I thought it was you! Good thing you’re back, your timing is perfec’!
Something’s fishy goin’ on. There’s a whole contingent of Aurors coming up the hill. Thought
I might give ye a warning!” he panted, obviously winded from running non-stop up the
slope.

“A warning? We have nothing to hide- let them come,” Dumbledore said easily, snapping his
fingers. Their travel bags disappeared, and Dumbledore’s and Remus’ muggle clothes
changed back into their usual Headmaster and Teacher’s garments. “It seems that the
students are coming down for breakfast. You are right Hagrid, we did arrive just in time.”

“He’s here,” Randalf said, his voice deadly serious. Without warning, his muggle shirt and
tie changed into the robes of a Grandmaster Magi; the black billowing sleeves and multi-
layered cloak draping him impressively, a regal pointed hat completing the look as it
manifested on his head. “He is coming as we speak,” he gritted through his teeth. “I knew it
would come down to this- but so soon? Dumbledore- are you ready?”

“What are you talking about?” Remus asked, uneasy by this sudden feeling of an incredible
magic in the air.

“Don’t you remember what I said? ‘The heir of Ravenclaw will be the one to stop him’-“

“Wait a moment. We’re here to try to prevent Solidus from taking over him, not to kill
Harry!” Remus contradicted.

“It would be quicker this way-“

“Randalf, we are not going to attack Harry. Understood? We will try our best to help him,
and no matter how long it takes, no matter how difficult it may seem; we will definitely
succeed. But for now, do not mention your true purpose here. Let us see what he wants
with the school, shall we?” Dumbledore smiled. The main hall eventually began to fill with
students; most welcoming the Headmaster back, while others noticeably stared at the
white-haired man clad in black, tense as if ready for battle.

“Kill Harry?” Hagrid murmured, looking from one to another. “What’s going on ‘ere?” he
asked angrily, his face frowning with suspicion.

“Professor! So glad to see you’re back!” said a female voice. Ravenclaw turned, and looked
at the owner of that voice. Unconsciously, he took a step back, a bit too stunned too speak.

What the? She’s no ordinary witch- she has extraordinary magical ability…

“Oh, Miss Granger, I’d like you to meet someone. Hermione, this is Randalf, Randalf
Ravencl- ahem- Ravenshire. Randy, this is Hermione Granger, head girl of Hogwarts.”

“Good Morning, Mr. Ravenshire,” Hermione greeted, offering her hand. Randy took it briefly,
shaking her small hand once in a firm handshake. He smiled knowingly.

“Top of the morning to you, Miss Granger. You won’t believe how good it is to finally meet
you,” he said charmingly, flashing her a smile. Hermione felt honoured that the professor
spoke so highly of her.

“Thank you, will you be staying for a while or just visiting?” she asked in a welcoming
manner.

“I think I might stick around for a bit,” Randy said, glancing out of the halfway opened door.
He could feel that presence even from a far distance. Potter radiated power like no other he
has ever met. This girl also was extremely gifted, but it felt that she had a much tighter
control on her abilities than he had. Dumbledore was right- if this was the ‘Divine
Summoner’; she was indeed a prodigy. At seventeen, the magic control and knowledge he
was detecting from her was incredible. A few seconds into the introduction, Hermione felt
something, a familiar presence. She looked immediately to the door, her face brightening
considerably.

“Harry’s here!”

Randy had to admit that he was impressed. She was also able to sense his presence form so
far away. That means that both of their Occlumens’ ability were at such an acute level that
detection and analysis were almost second nature to them. Her training was of a much
higher level than simply image transfers, mind defense and memory alteration. It was
similar to both of them having on a ‘radar’ and they instinctively knew what caliber of
wizard was in their presence, and if she wanted, he knew that she could communicate with
each and every one of them. At that moment Ron walked over to them, coming across to
talk to Hagrid.

“Hagrid! I forgot to tell you, how could I be so thick- Alfie needs another shot of Triscellin,
but we have to order in some from Romania, Professor Mollineaux said that he didn’t have
anymore, and couldn’t source any at Plexor’s Potions, said there was a recent break in and
the only way to get more was to order it directly…”

“Pardon me, Hagrid. Ron, I would like you to meet someone,” Dumbledore interrupted. Ron
turned, and looked at the stranger suspiciously. Those robes weren’t ordinary robes- this
guy was prepared to duel.

“Who are you?” Ron blurted out, not even waiting for an introduction.

Randalf Ravenclaw sized up this tall red haired youth, and smiled. This man was the key. He
knew he himself would only be the catalyst to set things right, but this boy would ultimately
be the deciding factor. True champions were far and few in between. He knew that this
particular meeting might one day be written down as a turning point in history, but he’ll
leave that for future historians. He was not here to use that aspect of the Sight. He was
here to prevent the second fall of wizards, and the wizard and witch he had now been
introduced to were important pieces in this game of chess. Randalf Ravenclaw smiled
knowingly.

“Call me Randalf. You are Sir Ronald Weasley, one of the few remaining Knights of the
Magi. A pleasure,” he extended his hand, giving Ron a firm handshake. Ron was
momentarily speechless. He smiled hesitantly, shaking his hand vigorously.

“Uh- yeah, well I guess you know me then. Er- thanks?” said Ron. The hall was abuzz with
activity now, most pointing and talking about the new wizard with the white hair standing in
their midst. Ron looked across to Hermione, who at the moment, looked like she wanted to
bolt outside the main hall. He turned and looked at the half-opened door, then back at her,
then back again.

“Are you seeing something that I am not?’ Ron asked, puzzled.

“Harry’s here,” Hermione explained, a smile brightening her face. “He’s actually here!”

“Oh. Joy,” Ron said under his breath. He walked towards the door, Hermione at his side. At
the bottom of the steps, Ron pulled to a stop. You got to be kidding me.

“Is that-!?” Ron exclaimed. Hermione didn’t know what to say. In front of a full battalion of
Aurors, a lone wizard was coming up the hill, a dark hood covering his head, his multi-
layered cloak covering him from shoulder to boots. A silver medallion hung at the center of
his chest, and a Dark Blue scarf was wrapped around his mouth and chin. After a couple
minutes of standing there, pretty dumbstruck, Ron and Hermione didn’t even notice that
quite a few more students had gathered on the steps behind them.

The man in front stopped halfway up the ascent to Hogwarts, and the battalion halted
immediately, their right boots crunching the stone underfoot in parade ground precision. He
turned his head slightly to his left, nodding his head once. Immediately one of his men
broke formation and approached the doors to Hogwarts. Dumbledore came forward, and
took the rolled parchment from the man. The Auror bowed his head once and wordlessly
went back down the hill, stepping back into line.

“Who is that?” one of the Gryffindor third years asked, eyeing the man in front, trying to
make out his features underneath his hood.

“What’s going on here- is something wrong?” Hannah Abbot asked.

“Jeez- something’s going down here. That’s an Auror battalion-that it is,” Seamus added.
“Wait- isn’t that-” his eyes bulged.

Albus Dumbledore read the message silently, his brow furrowing in thought. He glanced
noticeably at Hermione.

“Come on up, don’t be shy!” Dumbledore called out, beckoning him up the hill. Without any
more encouragement, Harry walked up the remainder of the way alone. As came up to
Professor Dumbledore, Harry bowed slightly in greeting.

“Thank you for giving me an audience on such short notice. I assume you got the Ministry’s
owl?”

“No, I’m sorry, I only came back a few minutes ago. Madame Pompfrey has taken a much
deserved rest this morning. I did not wish to wake her.” Dumbledore nodded at the
ensemble lower down the hill. “Oh, I haven’t seen this in a while. Why all the formalities?”
Dumbledore asked, a twinkle in his eyes. Harry’s eyes crinkled in a smile, and without
further ado- he raised his hands and pulled back his hood, and tugged down the scarf under
his chin. Many of the students gasped in amazement. Harry chuckled softly at Dumbledore’s
comments.

“It’s good to see you too, Professor,” Harry grinned, shaking his hand. Dumbledore frowned
slightly, his face full of concern. Hermione noticed it too- Harry looked very ill. Harry made
eye contact with her, and both of their eyes locked for a few intense moments. Hermione
tried to smile, but she knew something was wrong. His face was a mess, dark circles were
underneath his eyes and his skin was looking unhealthy. Hermione could sense that his
magical aura was quite low compared to before. Was he sick?

“Are you well?” Dumbledore asked, his brow creasing as he studied his face. Harry nodded,
smiling none to convincingly. “Come, tell them to come inside. Let us have a little talk about
this matter at hand.”

“I’m grateful for your time, but pertaining to their comfort- that won’t be necessary, they
can stay outside.”

“As you wish. Well, I guess we can continue this in my office. Please, follow me.”
“Thank you, Professor. Just give me a moment to tell them what going on.” He strode back
down the hill, and spoke in a low tone to the same man. After listening to him, the man
saluted, and he in turn directed the Aurors to go ahead secure defensive positions on the
grounds. After Harry and Dumbledore disappeared back into the castle, one lone Auror
smiled.

Rodulphus Lestrange chuckled, and pulled down his scarf from around his nose. Looking up
at the immense towers of his alma mater, he grinned in anticipation. With all the activity
going on, no one will notice just one missing student. He should have enough time to get in
and out before anyone knew a damn thing, and by then, it would be too late.

Luna…oh Luna…where are you….

********************

Author's note: Finally, back on track. It's been a while, hopefully I haven't lost my touch!
Please review and tell me what you think. I'd appreciate it- and thank you to all you
wonderful readers for having patience with me! It's been all uphill, but I can now say that I
am back and roaring to go! Roar! Lol. Respect!~

Chapter 20: Losing Luna Lovegood

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**CHAPTER 20: Losing Luna Lovegood**

Unknown to everyone except one lone wizard, right here, in this very room, were the ones
destined to change the future forever. Randalf Ravenclaw listened quietly as young Harry
Potter told Albus Dumbledore, Remus Lupin, Hermione Granger, and himself about this
excursion into London. Randalf scowled, he didn’t like this one bit.

“So you’re saying Diggory has set in place an array of Anti-Apparation wards in strategic
places around the city?” Dumbledore asked.

“Yes- there were too many instances of murders and other vicious acts done to muggles by
the escapees recently. And since the bombing incident in Turkey, and the attacks in
Oklahoma, Diggory has set in place her own anti- terrorism measures. The field is
impenetrable- well, most of the time,” Harry explained.

“Most of the time??”

“There’s a system set up for the quick transport of detainees and convicted criminals. We
send 'em off to a temporary detention center via a portkey gap for exactly eleven minutes,
at exactly five minutes to seven. And it’s a one-way trip- there is no magical access into
London, period. So that's why we’ve got to do it in the muggle fashi-”
“Couldn’t you just take her?” Randalf interrupted, his tone mildly inquisitive even though his
eyes bored at the young man’s face. But you managed to penetrate it to transport your
colleagues home. His eyes narrowed. What sort of magic do you really possess?

Harry turned, really sizing up this unknown wizard. Ravenshire, they said? All right. He
didn’t particularly like him on first meeting, but this stare he’s been giving him gave him the
willies. Harry couldn’t remember the last time someone’s stare gave him the willies.

“My -er- self portkey spell was inadvertently a test for the M.A.R.S. Division last night- I
didn’t know about the field per say. When I breached it- it tripped off a huge chain of events
that I had to sort out late into last night. But it was for the better because, I don’t know-
they found out the potholes and so on, so they told the Secretary of Defense, Roman
Helsinki, that two layers were needed- the first is a magical defense that blocks spells- be it
apparation or ‘porting, and a secondary barrier on top of that just in case that is breached.
Diggory's taking this on pretty seriously...”

“Typical of her. Who knows? Maybe the real threat is already on the inside…” Randalf said, a
false humour in his voice. He looked once again at Harry, his eyes betraying his easy smile.

Harry definitely did not like this man.

“What about Malfoy?” Remus asked.

“He’s in charge at Sirens Rock for the moment with the initial set up of the new prison
facility.”

“In ‘charge’?” Dumbledore’s eyes rose in mild surprise, something neither Hermione nor
Harry had ever seen. Harry frowned slightly, nodding.

“Yeah,” he reinforced. “ What? What is it?”

“Harry, I have to commend you on giving him direction and purpose, but even you must
realize that Draco is unpredictable at best. Do you trust him?”

“I may not like him, but he’s my comrade. We have gotten each other out of a many, well,
potentially fatal situations. I trust him,” Harry said easily. “ What does he have to do with
this?”

At this Randalf knew that this was serious. It has been foretold that once the two greatest
of allies- yet now the most vicious of nemesis: Gryffindor and Slytherin, will reunite as
brothers in arms on the field of blood and sand. He didn’t need anymore confirmation of the
prophecy than those words from Potter himself. It had begun.

“Oh, nothing,” Dumbledore noted Ravenclaw’s hostile behaviour, but did not comment nor
indicate that anything was amiss. “Well, Hermione, you have agreed to accompany him, and
I have heard the reasons. When will you be leaving?”

“Late this afternoon. Our vehicle convoy is stationed at Hogsmeade at the moment because
we will be traveling on the road. Four of Nymphadora’s team will be on broomsticks using
the disillusionment hex when we approach the city outskirts. By the time we reach there, it
will be nightfall, and our lookouts in the sky would be quite hard to spot, so we expect
minimal muggle detection. Even if there is suspicion, we have our two Obliviator specialists
from the Unmentionable squadron to quickly deal with it. Piece of cake.”
Dumbledore did not smile. “Very well, Miss granger, you are excused from classes until you
return. There’s no hurry. You may go now and pack whatever you need.” He nodded,
motioning that the meeting was over. Everyone got up to leave, but as they were filtering
out, Dumbledore called Harry back.

“Potter, a moment, please.”

Harry, Hermione and Remus paused at the doorway, the way he called him registering as a
bit strange. With a few shaky looks, Remus and Hermione left, following Randy who was
already nearly at the bottom of the spiral staircase. Harry closed the door behind them, and
turned to face his previous Headmaster.

“Yes?”

“How are you feeling?” Dumbledore asked, but in a literal sense. Harry knew better than to
lie to him.

“Not good, sir.”

“You look tired, Harry. Is there a reason why are you running yourself into the ground?
What are you trying to prove?” Dumbledore asked.

“Prove?- I- I.. I don’t know what you mean.”

“Your purpose, Harry. Something drives you beyond the mere call of duty. What is it?”

“I want. ..” Harry’s memories raced back to what Remus told him the night of the attack at
Lionheart, when Hermione was taken hostage.

“Hah! The only way to stop this is if you could wipe the face of evil off the entire planet….”

“I want for everyone to be safe.”

“And by that, do you mean Hermione?”

“Yes, her included.”

“You are but one man, Harry. Don’t wear yourself out, life is too precious to waste,”
Dumbledore said.

“I know that, but .. it’s a hard job. I’m still getting used to giving out commands, all of it is
new to me,” Harry sighed. “ The escapees have been popping up everywhere, we need to
get this campaign going. And I will do what I must, for everyone’s sake.”

“Something happened to you that night at Lionheart, something very serious, I know. But
heed my words; do not make this a personal war. That will only destroy everything you
love.”

Harry listened to his old headmaster, knowing what he was saying was right. If he made
this a personal vendetta, he’ll have no control left over the circumstances of his life. “I
understand.”
“What I still fail to fully understand, is the reasoning behind so many Aurors on escort. A
smaller, more tightly knit group would have been better in these circumstances. Too many
Aurors in one area is going to spark unnecessary attention. Maybe only the both of you
would have sufficed.”

“Honestly, I’m in no condition to protect her alone. But that is beside the point, everything
here sort of ties in with the campaign. In reality, this is a sting operation that I have been
planning ever since I was appointed to this position. Don’t you think it’s highly suspicious
that Voldemort always had one up on us? Too many tactical missions had been botched due
to leaked information. Prime example- the abduction of Draco Malfoy and the subsequent
stealing of some of his abilities, and the fact that I would be escorting the Hogwarts express
earlier this year. Someone in the ministry fed Ash this information and my whereabouts-
and now we have a lead with the scientist William Hargreaves, who, not coincidentally, has
gone missing. There are others. Ryan Mulciber and Igor Karkaroff were hexed with the
Omni curse when we dueled, and we suspect that many more in the ministry have been also
been leaking information, knowingly or unknowingly. It’s a huge mess of potholes and a
lack of confidentiality. I’m sure if we can weed out a mole alive, we can interrogate them to
find out who are in the higher tiers- the ones masterminding these attacks.”

“Are you meaning to tell me that you expect something to happen?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“And you dare take her into it?” Dumbledore said quietly.

“Oh no- it’s not like that, she is definitely needed to help the treatment of my field agent.
Lestrange’s been cut up severely with a Hunter’s blade. No normal magic could help her.
This is still an escort mission, but there are plans in motion running at the same time to
pinpoint a leak to ensure tighter security within the Ministry as well.”

“You are placing my student into danger, Harry.” Dumbledore’s temper was rising.

“She’s my girlfriend as well. I will make sure no harm comes to her.” Harry smiled a half
smile. There was still more to this situation. “We have measures to ensure that she would
not be targeted.” He began telling Dumbledore of the secret plans.

***********************

“Love, are you sure about this? I mean- our baby...do you think everything will be okay?”
Remus asked softly, holding his fiancé in his arms. Nymphadora Tonks smiled at him,
nodding with a firm conviction.

“I trust him. Implicitly. Rebecca told me that she once thought we were wrong to ask him to
be our child’s godfather, well she being the godmother and all, but now she said we made
the right choice. Remy, can’t you see? Harry will protect him, no matter what happens to
us. And if the heir of Gryffindor can’t do it, who can? Look at him! Not even two years out of
school and he’s one of the most respected men in the auror division! You should have seen
it this morning, it’s obvious that the guys at work have nothing but utmost respect for him,
and the funny thing about it, he doesn’t even fully understand the influence he has on
everyone at the office. ”
Remus frowned, drawing her close. Harry indeed has outdone all expectations, and brought
the end to a war, almost single-handedly. His predecessor, Alastor Moody, would be more
than proud.

But he couldn’t shake that feeling he got whenever he saw him now. That feeling of disaster
waiting to happen; the suspense of a ticking time-bomb waiting to explode. Since Firenze
first told him of the vague prophecy which was now reinforced by Randalf, things were not
sitting well with him. He only hoped Hermione could…

“Yeah,” Remus sighed. “If the heir of Gryffindor can’t do it…who can, indeed?” he said in
tired defeat. Nymphadora gazed into his face, searching for answers to her questions.
Something was wrong.

“What is it?”

“Nothing. It’s just that, Harry is so different now. He’s definitely not a kid anymore. His
childhood is gone forever, and that changes someone for the worse. He’s hurting inside, and
the only way he deals with it is work and protocol. I’ve seen it before. If Hermione wasn’t
his girlfriend, I think he may have cracked a long time ago. She’s more special than we may
ever know…”

“Yeah, it’s tough. That scar he had was more than just a backfired curse, it dominated his
life…” Tonks said sadly. “ Sometimes, I feel sorry for him. But Remus, he has gotten past
that. He knows instinctively that his life is different, and I think now that he’s fully aware of
his circumstances, he’s handling it superbly.”

He wanted to shake her, and tell her everything: That it’s not so simple, that the heir of
Gryffindor is actually inside of him, influencing him, and if nothing was done, would
eventually take possession of him completely. How he wanted to tell her! Everything right
now was at such a crucial state, and the worst part of it was that Harry was prophesized
almost over a century ago to emerge as a Dark Son of magic. These were the things
plaguing him ever since his trip to Brazil, but he couldn’t, under mutual agreement, disclose
this information to anyone, not even his wife to be.

“So it seems,” Remus said, looking into her eyes. It hurt him. He wanted no secrets
between he and his lover, but this was bigger than the both of them. Everything relied on
Hermione and if she could use her special branch of magic to help him.

If not…

Lupin looked up into the sky, feeling the burden of what may happen. James…I’m sorry…

“Remus- I have to tell you something,” Tonks said a bit hesitantly. “Harry didn’t tell anyone
else, well, I think he may be telling Dumbledore as we speak, but that’s it. This isn’t an
ordinary mission. He only told me about it a few minutes after we left Hogsmeade, but
that’s only because he can trust me. Well, he wrote it down, actually.” She took out a piece
of paper. “The walls have ears, you know,” she winked at him. Remus read the paper, not
believing it. Such a risky move, so much was at stake… had Harry lost his mind?

“I’m going morph into Hermione Granger for this entire escort mission while she’s going to
be disguised as just another Auror. If there’s a rat, we’ll know for sure, with me as the
bait.” Remus’ face darkened. Harry actually expected something was going to happen, and
was putting the women both of them loved into the middle of it. Randy was right.
There were definitely some trying times ahead.

*****************************

Luna was coming out of the abandoned armory, having dusted off her knapsack from all the
dust. Someone had taken it again, and laid out her books in a path as clues leading her to
where it was. A bit more playful than usual, before they just hid it without any sort of
reason, but in truth and fact, she was getting tired of those Slytherins. As she exited, she
noticed a piece of stationery on the ground, with a big ‘L U N A’ scrawled on it. Ignoring it,
she began to walk back to class. As she walked, there was the sound of rusting paper
following her. Ignoring it once again, she continued around the bend. Hearing it still
following her, she turned around. As she did so, the letter lay down immediately, sitting
innocently on the floor, almost daring her to pick it up.

“Hmph.” She pushed her hair behind her ear, and continued, not glancing back at the paper
tiptoeing behind her. Picking up the pace, she trotted down to the next floor, losing her tiny
stalker in the process. Running down the steps, she slowed down as something caught her
attention. A letter, doubled in size lay on the ground, waiting for her. Stepping over it, she
continued once again, hustling to class. However, this one took up pursuit as well. After a
few seconds of being chased by a piece of paper she stopped, thinking hard. An idea came
to her: instead of running forwards, she began to run backwards, hopping over the paper as
she did so. The paper quivered on the ground, but could not follow her anymore. With a
small smile she congratulated herself. Ah. She knew it.

As she bent the last deserted corridor, someone casually stepped around at the same time,
colliding with her. She toppled over, spilling the books from her unclosed knapsack.

“Hey.” To those who new her better- that meant something was irritating her.

“Hello, did you get my letter?" a deep voice asked her.

"I hate forwards," She replied simply, turning around. "There’s something on your shoe.”

Rodulphus Lestrange smiled, he wasn’t going to get caught with that. That’s the oldest trick
in the book. How this prank worked, when you looked down, a ball of some sort would come
flying at your forehead, usually the bigger the better.

“Having a good day?”

“Sure,” she replied, looking intently at his auror boots. Rodulphus found her act quite
persuading. They way she was frowning, anyone else would have immediately looked down.
But not him- he was better than that.

“Why are you here, in the abandoned wing, all by yourself?” Rodulphus asked politely,
knowing fully well that he orchestrated it.

“I’m not alone.”

Rodulphus froze. Wait, someone else was here? He looked around, his senses stretching
out. Empty. He gave her a quizzical look.
“Are you sure you’re not alone?” he asked carefully.

“Of course I’m not. You’re standing right in front of me.” She got up to her feet, still looking
at his shoe. It was disgusting.

“Why are you staring at my feet, my fair one?” Rodulphus asked, trying to see if she would
really try something.

“I prefer to be called ‘Luna’ instead of ‘Wan’ . “Wan’ is short for Wanda. My name isn’t
Wanda. But if by going by that respect, you can call me ‘Lun’.”

“Loon?” Lestrange asked seriously.

“Yes, Lun.”

“Okay, my fair Loon, why are you staring at my feet?” he asked again, still not looking
down.

“Because you have Threstral manure on them,” she said matter-of-factly.

“Oh. Is that so?” he asked, still looking at her.

“Yes, it is so.”

“Alright, Loon. I’ll look down. Don’t do anything I won’t do.”

“Okay. Whatever.”

Lestrange looked down, and sure as she said, there was a piece of Threstral Dung on his
boots. Waving his hand, the mess disappeared. Expecting her to vanish as soon as he took
his eyes off her, he was pleasantly surprised to see Luna was still standing there, looking at
some point off his right shoulder, a bit behind him.

“My name is Rodulphus. You may call me Ralph.”

“Okay, Rodulphus,” Luna agreed.

“You’re beautiful up close, even more beautiful than I imagined.”

“What’s an Auror doing in the school?” Luna changed the topic.

“I came here to see you.”

“Well, you saw me. I believe that was your objective,” Luna said, looking closely at his face.

“I also wanted to give you this.” From behind his back Rodulphus took out a bouquet of
flowers. Luna’s face did not change, but she accepted them.

“Aren’t you a bit old?” Luna asked.

“Old?" he laughed. "I'm still in the springtime of life!”

“Oh. Okay. I’ve seen you before. You’re the Death Eater Rodulphus Lestrange,” she said
airily.

“My my, so you do know me. I’m flattered.”

“Harry trained us to recognize you guys. So much that helps me. You’re far more powerful
than I am. I couldn’t take you if I tried.”

“I know. Ain’t I cool?”

“Apparently. So, what do you want?”

“Do you like the flowers?”

“Yeah. They’re nice.”

“Good. Do you want to come with me?”

“Do I have a choice, or is this a trick question?” Luna said, her brows rising. Rodulphus
studied her. That was only the second different facial expression she portrayed for the
whole encounter; other a frown of disgust at the shit on his boots. Knowing who he was and
her only reaction was mild curiosity? He loved her already.

“Do you rather I gave you a choice, or take you anyway without giving you one?” he asked.
Luna Lovegood studied the man in front of her.

“Well, I like the flowers, and you need a shave, but you aren’t so bad. I don’t think I can
fight right now anyway.”

“Oh? Why not?”

“Because my wand is in my bag, and it’s obvious I will have to put down these nice flowers,
empty out my bag, then take out my wand to even try hexing you. Considering you
managed to take the uniform of one of the guards, infiltrate Hogwarts, walk through these
halls undetected with the Professor, Mr. Randalf Ravenclaw- you know, as in Hogwarts
“Ravenclaw”, Harry Potter, the boy who took out Voldemort, and all those Aurors- without
being intercepted, fighting you just seems to be a dumb idea.” She looked at her nails. Ah-
this one’s growing back. Time to bite. She began to nibble on her little fingernail.

“Makes sense. I will make you a very happy woman if you come with me.”

“Well, considering I’m turning eighteen late this year, I guess dying here and now seems
pretty dramatic, so I’ll just go along with you without being harmed, if you don’t mind.”

“Fine by me.”

“After you,” Luna offered, gesturing in front of them.

“No, after you. Ladies first.”

“I insist.”
“No I insist,” Rodulphus countered easily.

“Very well.” She walked ahead. After a few moments of silence, Luna paused. “Where did
you get these?” she asked, smelling the flowers.

“Oh- a lovely place on third and Michael, there are great bargains around this time. Spring
is in the air.”

“I like them. Conjure up a vase for me, so I can put them in water,” said Luna, just as
easily as if she were asking for the time of day.

“Done- Apparece jugalente.” A vase popped out of thin air, and he handed it to her.

“Thank you- oh, I need some water too. Wait- here’s Myrtle’s bathroom, I’ll just stop in for
some.”

“Myrtle? Oh yes! I remember her. I’ll come in and say hello.”

The two of them entered the haunted bathroom hearing the soft wails of the resident ghost.
“Who gooes theeere?” she sniffed.

“Hello, darling. How are you?”

“Ralphie?” Myrtle’s eyes opened wide. “It is you!” She shrieked in glee, floating over to him.
Without warning, Rodulphus barked a loud curse, and Myrtle was flung against the
bathroom stalls, pinned on the mirror in front of the faucets. He manipulated her so that her
arms spread wide, making a large ‘T’ against the huge mirror.

“What, what are you doing? how are you doing this?” Myrtile cried softly, not
comprehending how he was able to manipulate a ghost.

“Give Dumbledore a message for me. Luna, tell her that you are coming with me on your
own free will.”

“Do I have to?”

“Well, if you want… if not…well don’t bother about it. I just wanted to make it seem all
villain-like and detestable. But if you’re not into it, well, I understand.”

“Oh, sure, no problem.” Luna cleared her throat, and put on her most composed and
relatively alert face. It didn’t do that much good.

“Professor, if you are seeing this, I just want to let you know that I’m all right, and I
decided to go with him. He’s seems pretty okay, and I’m getting bored of school without
Harry anyway. So I’ll probably just write a letter to Ginny sometime and tell her what’s up,
and oh-my Transfiguration essay, I left it on your desk. So, well bye for now. I’ll call daddy
when I get there. Byee!”

“Okay, Myrtlie, this Crucifying Curse will expire in about eight hours and I know you ghosts
could change into another shape. When it wears off, just show him exactly what Luna said,
you ghosts never forget right?”

“Um..er..no..we don’t… really forget..that’s..well..for people who are alive…”

“Excellent! Well, take care now, bye bye then!” He waved jovially and opened the door.
Luna was staring at the trapped ghost, still not believing it. Rodulphus beckoned her over.”
Luna? Coming?”

“Yes.” She walked meekly towards him. “That is some very powerful magic. Will you show
me how to do it?”

“I’ll show you everything I know.”

**********************

Later that evening, as the ministry battalion made their way down to Hogsmeade, the scout
man from Nymphadora’s team came back up from the town proper, swooping low on his
broomstick.

“COMMANDER! Travis Bruckenheister from the Unmentionable team has been found dead,
sir.”

“What?!” Harry said, halting his men. “But we came up to Hogwarts with a full account of
personnel. What do you mean he’s ‘dead’?”

“Apparently, he was murdered via the Killing Curse early this morning and his clothes were
stolen. He was only found a few minutes ago, but form the looks of it- he was dead for
almost the entire day. Whoever did it, was with us at Hogwarts…” At that, Harry‘s blood ran
cold. Instinctively he spun around, whipping out his wand.

“PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!” he screamed, aiming at the general direction of his men. All thirty
something of them, except he and the scout, were frozen, or those on the outer edges of
the group, visibly cramped and fell over, twitching on the ground from being on the fringes
of the curse. Some visibly twitched, trying to fight off the spell, while others only stared
forward as their commander’s magic bound them. Hermione was the first to break free,
coughing hard in the center of the group. She caught her balance and glared at him.

“Harry! What do you think you are doing?” she demanded.

Harry ignored her for a few more seconds, quickly running through the ranks as he
examined everyone’s faces. He couldn’t believe it.

“Finite,” he incanted, finally using the counter spell. Everyone stumbled as they regained full
control of their bodies. He covered his mouth with his right hand, contemplating on all the
possibilities. How could he have gotten in?!

“Sir? You okay?”

“We are one short. He’s already long gone. Quickly, send a message to Professor Dumble-“
At that moment, an owl came sweeping down towards Hermione. It was Pigwidgeon. Harry
could almost sense what was in it before she even read it. He walked over to her, and read
the message at the same time, his heart falling like a stone into his stomach.
Hermione,
Myrtle just told us that Luna Lovegood ran away with Rodulphus Lestrange. He was dressed
as an Auror and took her from Hogwarts this morning. Mr. Ravenshire and Dumbledore are
assembling an Order meeting to execute a rescue mission. Don’t tell Harry. Everything bad
that happens here seems to revolve around him. I wish you didn’t have to go to London.
Look out for yourself. Take care.

-Ron.

*******************************

Author’s Note: Sorry for the short lenght of this chapter. I know I promised action, but
some more plot and filler has to be set up before the next chapter, which should be highly
entertaining. *hint*. There were a lot of questions concerning the Portkey bit. I hope I
explained it (well to a degree) in this chapter. I kinda planned this and the next to be one
whole long chapter, but I decided against that. Please tell me what you think, hopefuly you
won't be terribly angry for the shortness of this one.. Hasta!

Chapter 21: The Battle of London

[View Online]  [Printer Friendly Version of This Chapter]

Author’s note: HBP is over, and despite public opinion, I enjoyed it thoroughly. JKR is a
genius. I think the major difference though of book 6 is that the main characters of her
story are no longer the golden Trio, but Harry and Voldemort -as we can see by her glossing
over how a perfectly good heroine (Hermione) has now become just another sidekick. Oh,
and it has nothing to do with the R/Hr ship (before you jump down my throat). It’s just that
, I think, if Ron and Hermione weren’t in this book, it wouldn’t have made much a difference
to the plot, seeing that they were purely there for the romantic tension and backstabbing
going on throughout the year. But I must give credit where it’s due, Tom Riddle and Harry’s
characters were excellent. Oh- and without even knowing it, I have seemingly put two
Horcruxes since the beginning of Solidus, and since the beginning of the third installment,
another has emerged. Actually, they are pretty obvious, now that i think about it. And now,
on to the story...

**CHAPTER 21: The Battle of London**

Late that evening, Macnair was soaring high in the clouds, making good time on his way
back from Greenland. Frosty had welcomed him eagerly when he clambered up the icy
mountain face early this morning, her huge tail curling and unfurling in a peculiar dragon-
habit signifying familiarity. On his approach she maid a high whooping sound from deep in
her throat, the dragon equivalent to a cat's purr, and she offered him her huge, frozen
snout to pat affectionately. After conjuring and equipping the saddle and bit, Macnair was
back on his way to London. The warm blood of the huge dragon was the only thing
preventing him from freezing at these high, unforgiving conditions. Whole morning he has
been trying to contact Rodulphus using the vibra-crystal, but to no avail.

Lestrange better had done his part. This wasn’t a one-man show.

Meanwhile, on the streets of Little Winging, Surrey, a wizard and a young witch walked past
an empty playground, oblivious to the strange looks they were receiving. Rodulphus
Lestrange walked casually on the pavement, a large travelling cloak covering his stolen
Auror uniform. Luna was an entirely different case altogether. With the necklace of
butterbeer corks and her full-length Hogwarts robes, the odd couple resembled something
out of a movie set.

"Where are we going?" Luna asked. Rodulphus pointed ahead.

"Not far, we're just going to pick up my stuff at a little place on the next corner. Then we
can go to my estate in Wales. I'll give you the grand tour tomorrow," he explained, smiling
easily.

"Oh- all right. I like Wales. I've been there on holiday looking for the Pugwump Imasceri
when I was fourteen."

"Did you find any?" Rodulphus asked politely.

"No...but," she eyed him sceptically. "You're going to tell me that such a thing doesn't exist,
right?" she accused.

"Au contraire, my fair Lun," he said dramatically. " I know they exist, in fact, I have recently
found a male to line with my prized female. She's in heat, and my staff have been
complaining that the magical feedback is giving the food a sour taste. Took me, oh- I'll say
about three months to hunt him down."

"Really?" she asked, her eyes opening wide. " The gold tipped one or the ruby tipped kind?"
she asked, eager for a description.

"Ruby tip, I want the offspring to be pure, so I stayed with the smaller breed. Fiona, that’s
the girl, also is ruby tipped. You should see her claws, exquisite."

Luna paused. Somehow, she knew that all along she and her father were right, there were
certain species so rare that only a few would know of them. Hmph. So much for Hermione's
so called ' know-it-all-ness'. "So they really do exist..." she mumbled. An idea came to her.
This man was a feared dark wizard…maybe he knew...?

"What about Heliopaths? Do they exist too?" she blurted out. Rodulphus froze in his tracks,
turning to face her.

"Who told you about that? Was it Potter?" he asked quietly.

"No, he never mentioned anything about them. I-" she began, trying to explain herself.

"Oh? He didn't? I thought since that fateful night he would have boasted about them. "

"Boasted?" she asked, confused.

"Why yes! Are you sure he never mentioned anything?” he enquired. After she shook her
head, he continued. “I’ll tell you about it. Nearly two years ago on Old Year's night, there
was a fierce battle. Ah- one I will never forget. We had the both of them at our mercy, and
yet we lost. How was that possible?- You can ask. I have pondered on this every day during
my stay at Azkaban."

'Stay at Azkaban? ' Luna thought. That's funny.

"Heliopaths were demons borne from the Infernus Entity. The elements all have a patron
magic god that controls the distribution of magic power to select individuals. Draco Malfoy
was the one blessed with the natural ability to summon fire,and with my master's help, he
summoned eight Heliopaths to aid us in our battle. It was a glorious night, where our
puppet was utterly destroying our enemies, one man against the Order. However, the tides
turned when our Lord failed to keep Potter imprisoned, and he in turned cold heartedly
decimated the chosen prophets of our righteous cause. Your friend Potter is not all that he
seems. A more efficient killer I have yet to encounter. Even though it was traumatizing, I
can forgive him for that. War is war, and people will die,” he said solemnly. “But my poor
wife, he killed her out of pure hatred. That- I will not forgive, neither forget."

"How horrible..."she said. "Harry killed your wife…?" Luna mused, understanding dawning
upon her, and feeling sympathy for him well inside. Somehow, she didn't find that hard to
believe anymore. Harry was kind of scary these days. Whenever she caught a glimpse of
him, like that day on the train, something was missing, or should she say, something that
wasn't there before now lingered deep in his eyes.

He definitely wasn't the boy she had a crush on in her fourth year. He had scorned her. She
hated him for that, but in his presence, she could do nothing but feel anguish as she wished
for something more than just a nod of acknowledgement or a half hearted wave. She
wanted to be special to him. The one time she actually did try to express her feelings back
in the courthouse after his trial, all he did was laugh. At the time, she was too hurt to react.
She swallowed it down, and pretended that nothing ever happened.

"No matter. I have mourned her long enough. Come, we are here." Rodulphus opened the
door to a quite ordinary flat and ushered her inside. As she entered, she noted that the
place was quite bare, except for the few essentials and three exquisite items on the kitchen
table. There were to Orbs, one was a regular Crystal ball set in an ancient rune bowl, while
the other was an opaque version with a dark purple mist swirling inside of it. The last item
was a flashing pendant on a long gold chain. Rodulphus immediately picked it and put the
pyramid shaped crystal between his teeth.

***************

Many miles away, Macnair had stopped at a desolate beach in Northern Ireland for a bit of
rest.

"Lestrange! Where the hell were you?!"

"I paid Hogwarts a visit.”

“You what? Are you mad? Dumbledore is there!” Macnair screamed.

“So? I got what I went for. What do you want, buddy?”

’Buddy?’ Macnair couldn’t believe this man. He was supposed to have his followers in
London! What was he doing all this while? Wait...he mentioned something about ‘a new
wife’ sometime before?

“You got her? Jesus Christ man, you’re unbelievable.” Macnair had to admit he was
impressed. “What about the men?”

“Have no fear. All are awaiting you at Hyde Park. The mudblood will be yours. As I said, a
battalion of Aurors against the best Azkaban has to offer? The odds are highly in your
favour.” He grinned. He didn’t need to tell Macnair that Potter was with them. Rodulphus
will let Macnair assume that he was also recuperating at the hospital for a teeny bit longer.
If his plan was to work, Macnair needed to be confident. There might be significant losses,
but once Macniar got some of his hair, everything will be all right. All he needed to do now
was to get them close to each other. Considering that he took into consideration that
neither could run away from the ensuing conflict, they definitely will get in each other’s
face.

If – and this is a big IF- Macnair could survive so long. Hell, if he managed to get rid of
Potter, all the better! But for now, telling him only what he needed to know was sufficient
for his purposes. Right now, he had more pressing matters on his mind. It would be exactly
eight months, twelve days, four hours and thirty-nine minutes before he could take his new
fiancé to the chapel for the ceremony and then afterwards to the marriage bed. He looked
at his prize bride. It will be worth it.

In the meanwhile, he’ll just have to make her fall in love with him.

******************

The journey from Hogsmeade to London was long and tedious. Harry had already issued
instructions via owl post to notify Travis’ family what had happened, and one also to the
ministry. As he sat there in the eight-seater minivan, he stared outside of the window,
thinking- no- contemplating on Lestrange’s actions. It just did not make sense. What did he
want with Luna Lovegood, and why didn’t he make an attempt on the lives any of the
Aurors present? It was the strangest thing: Lestrange had the world of opportunity, Harry
himself not even suspecting that anything was amiss as they left Hogsmeade. Usually, any
sort of malice nearby he could detect using his ‘strange magic’. Harry no longer referred to
it as Solidus’ charm, as that name haunted him every time he thought about it.

It was almost as if Rodulphus harbored absolutely no evil intentions towards Hogwarts, or

any on his team. Why didn’t the fact that he had just murdered one of his own trigger a
response? How could he have slipped in so easily? Did he kill Travis for fun?

Harry came to the conclusion that Rodulphus Lestrange was on a different tier to all the
other Dark Wizards he had encountered. His thought patterns obviously did not work in
tandem with a conscience, or moral values of any sort. Harry tried to delve into the mind of
his new enemy. Lestrange killing Travis was not noted as an event in his psyche, because to
him, the main objective was getting a uniform. That is to say, in Rodulphus Lestrange’s
perspective; killing an Auror was just the same as going to Madame Milkins’ and ordering a
new set of robes. He rest his head against he cool glass of the car window. He still couldn’t
believe it.

Nothing could have prepared him for this sort of enemy: a man who was highly
unpredictable, with no clear motive, and no decisive goal. Somehow, his ambitions were
achieved without the usual planning and foresight of most tacticians. Random acts of genius
mixed with a total detachment to reality were apparently some of Lestrange’s trademarks.
That, mixed in with a deep knowledge of the Dark arts and a cunning use of espionage,
Rodulphus Lestrange has proven to be a very slippery character.
Harry frowned.

It was no longer a battle of military might, but now a measure of wits. And so far, Lestrange
had beaten him at every turn. He wouldn’t be surprised, considering the recent events, that
Lestrange was the man who sabotaged the Hogwarts’ express. It fitted the profile.
Unexplainable coincidences, which built up to disaster. He had spent the entire train ride
thinking on how badly the day had turned out, and how Rebecca nearly died by merely
following his orders. Now he felt what Dumbledore felt. His decisions made a heavy impact
on other people’s lives. Travis was the first casualty. He had to dedicate himself to keeping
everyone safe, or this was all a farce.
Right now Harry needed a concise plan, something to give him an advantage. What the hell
was Lestrange up to?

“Harry?” Hermione whispered, leaning over the seat to talk to him. She was sitting directly
behind him in the last row dressed as an auror. Tonks, meanwhile, was sitting next t him,
fully disguised as Hermione, muggle clothes and a bright pink jacket to keep out the cold.
“What is it?”

“I- “ Harry broke off. He had to show confidence, even though right now it was at an all
time low. Ron had voiced aloud an opinion that was bothering him for many years, and
Harry felt that the notion was spreading to the Order as well. When he got involved, things
usually turned for the worse, instead of the better. When he heard the news of Luna’s
abduction, he instantly wanted to race back up to Hogwarts and demand to be in on the
rescue effort. However, as he learnt in his tactics classes at Lionheart, when circumstances
were not in favour for the carrying out of side missions, priorities were to be maintained, or
risk failure in both endeavours. Too much had been set in place for him to abandon Rebecca
and his S.T.A.R. team. Dumbledore will contact him if needed.

“What, you can tell me, can’t you?” Hermione whispered in his ear. Tonks fidgeted
uncomfortably next to him. “Is it Luna?’

“Yeah, I still can’t believe it,” Harry admitted. “ How in the world did he get past us?” Harry
muttered.

“The headmaster will sort it out, don’t you worry,” Tonks said. “We should focus on this,”
she added, a look of determination on her face.

“You’re right. The quicker we get there, the better. The healers had her for almost a day
and a half now, and they say that’s far too long to have open wounds untreated. At least
they aren’t bleeding...” Harry sighed. Damn it all.

“I’ve been practicing recently- as well as doing some research. I think I will be able to do it
without the averse side effects I usually get,” Hermione said confidently. “It’s simple, when
I think about it...”
“Oh? How so?” Harry said, turning around slightly in the chair.

“The summoning ability I use revolves around Life right? I need to draw magic from a
source, and usually as it’s a healing spell, I have to use it from my own magic, because
draining it from the ‘patient’ will suck up theirs, causing a reverse effect. Get it? I’ll actually
make it harder on their recuperation instead of helping them.”

Harry nodded. He knew that whenever she used her healing ability, it took a toll on her.
Tonks turned slightly and looked at her. Hermione found it hard to be talking to an almost
exact replica of herself and hearing Tonk’s voice. It reminded her of that night at Krum’s
party, when Rossilini waltzed in the bathroom door. She blinked once, throwing that
memory form her mind.

“So you need to sort of sacrifice yourself to heal?” Tonks enquired. “Interesting. That’s not
really efficient though-“

“Tell me about it,” Hermione smiled. “However, Malfoy gave me something a long time ago
that really makes the difference...” she pulled out an object wrapped in a non-descript cloth.
Revealing it, the Halo of Life glowed warmly in the van; the magical energy radiating from it
almost tangible in the close quarters. “The Halo. It’s an invaluable treasure, when I came
across it in my research and put two and two together, I wondered how Malfoy had gotten it
that night. There was one thing that I did remember though. Unlike most treasures, you
cannot ‘search’ for it, it ‘finds’ you. And luckily, I got it the night when Harry needed it
most…” Hermione said softly, knowing how close she was to losing him forever that night.
Harry looked into her eyes, but said nothing.

“So…” Tonks trailed off- “ What exactly does the ‘Halo’ do?”

“It’s a channeling object. With it- I can channel magic into the spell, just like using my
wand. But if I try to do a Divine Summon without it, I’ll just overexert myself with a sudden
release of energy, which I’ll say, is not much fun.”

“As I so tried to warn her time and time again,” Harry added dryly.

“You know, you should be more grateful sometimes,” Hermione said. Harry said nothing,
and looked away, his face tightening. I rather die than you sacrificing yourself for me.
Hermione took off the cloth completely, and held it in her palm. It glowed warmly, and
Hermione’s eyes emitted a faint glow. “You see? This is like a magnifying glass, with it, I
can pinpoint my magic!” She beamed, quite pleased with herself. Harry looked at the digital
display on the dash. It read four minutes past three. In the a.m. As in, no proper sleep for
nearly three days. And to top it all, he just charged through Azkaban’s dementors not
twenty-four hours ago. It had better be worth it. He wondered what Draco was doing at this
very moment.

*********************

Deep in the department of mysteries, in courtroom seven, a lone woman was bound in
chains, seated on a straight-backed iron throne. An invisible barrier surrounded her in a
tight radius, flickering ever so often as it created a long tube connecting the floor to the
ceiling. How long had she been here? It was driving her insane. With no sunlight ever
reaching this room, she could not tell how many days had passed. Meals were apparated to
her on her lap randomly, and her chains vanished to allow her to eat. The magical field was
only six feet in diameter, giving her only enough space to walk around the only thing
nearby, that damned throne. Without any way to stretch herself properly to sleep, she had
to eventually sit back down in the chair, where the chains would take her prisoner again.

Locked inside this tight space in such a big room gave a new meaning to the term “Solitary
Confinement.” Offered no trial, nor visitors, the only contact she had was when she was
treated for the injuries to her stomach and lungs , and then escorted here for temporary
imprisonment.

Jacqueline Ramellie hated her present life. If she could, she would have taken it a few
weeks now. She rather do that than go mad, locked down here in the dark, with only a sole
beam of light shining directly on top of her. Her immediate family members were just
another unfortunate casualties of the war, so she had no one to turn to when she left
Beauxbatons. Logan Ash had offered her power to make a difference. Her first mission
against the Hogwarts train was a failure, and just as easily as they had recruited her, her
comrades had obviously deserted her. She had wildly opposite opinions of Hogwarts from
the two times se had been there. One was for the Tri wizard Tournament. The other was
immediately after her capture. Unfortunately for her, she was left to the tender mercies of
the S.TA.R. team’s interrogation specialist, or rather, at the hands of that madman, Steven
Warshire. Goosebumps racked her as that horrible night came back to her.

They didn’t call him ‘The Cruciator’ for sport.

Approximately two and half months had passed since she saw another living soul. If it
weren’t for the meals, the transfiguration of the chair into a toilet at periodic intervals, and
the cleansing spell that activated ever so often in this tiny prison, she would have thought
that they left her to rot. But that was no to be. They were keeping her very much alive.
Without any sort of warning, the sole door opened, a silhouette of a man outlined against
the faint torchlight of the corridor beyond. Closing the door behind him, the stranger
approached, the soft clipping sound of his military grade boots echoing in the vast atrium.
The figure stopped just out of the soft circle of light shining from directly on top of her.

“Good evening. I am Draco Malfoy. I am here to offer you a proposition.” Jacqueline

recognized the name immediately.

“You’re him. You’re really him, aren’t you?” she said in wonder. “You gave us these
powers.”

“It seems so. Rather, it was taken from me. No matter,” he said calmly. He took one step
closer, and Jacqueline strained her eyes to look into the shadows covering his face. Was it
her imagination, or only certain wizards had this uncanny knack to hide their faces so
menacingly under their hood? He noticed her attempt to see him. “You need proof?” he
asked. The ambient temperature rose, and two burning pupils glowed red from underneath
that unfathomable darkness, staring at her with such intensity that she almost panicked and
scampered away, just to get away from this monster.

“ I am the heir to the Infernus. Do not forget that. Your abilities are just an offshoot from
my magic.”

“What do you want?” she asked, a bit scared now.

“I want you to join me. Will you?”

“No,” she said immediately.

“Very well,” he said haughtily. “ Your execution by the veil of the unknown will be quite
unpleasant. Treasure the final few weeks of your life.” He turned on his heel, and walked
out. Before his third step, she called back to him.

“Wait.”

Draco smiled secretly under his hood.

“What do I have to do?” she said in defeat. Draco’s smile etched a bit wider before he
turned around, a smirk on his handsome features. Excellent. He faced her, igniting his
fingers on his right hand, one by one, creating five tiny flames on the tips. Without warning,
he shoved his hand right through the barrier, penetrating it’s magical properties. The shield
dissipated, and Draco stood before her, his fingers back to normal. Jacqueline instinctively
knew that this was no ordinary wizard, and far more powerful than Ash had described.
Draco offered her the back of his hand.

“Kiss the ring on my finger, and swear allegiance to me.”

After a brief hesitation, Jacqueline Ramellie got to her knees, took his hand into hers, and
kissed the ring on his right hand.

*************************

Dawn was breaking on London city. Harry Potter had stayed awake the whole night, as did
Tonks and the two Aurors in the front seat. Hermione had fallen asleep sometime around
four after having an engaging chat twith Tonks about the intricacies of ancient magical
objects with the main focus being on Ancient Runes. To Harry, it was all gibberish anyway,
as his priority was to maintain a constant vigilance. Ah, Mad Eye- if he were around, he
would definitely like to have seen Harry take his words to heart. Every now and again, the
two flyers up front would give a brief flash from their wands, indicating that everything was
okay. To the untrained eye, it just resembled a huge firefly blipping once every twenty
minutes.

Harry was glad to see the sun creep over the horizon, relieved that the journey to the city
was uneventful and that maybe his previous hunch that there might be an attack on route
to London was for naught. Damn, he was hungry. He twisted in his seat, nudging
Hermione’s knee to wake her up.

“Hey, hey…wake up. What do you want for breakfa-“

At that moment, everything shot straight to hell. Five vehicles, three muggle cars and two
ministry Minivans were thrown up into the air as the ground below them detonated with a
strong repulsion force. Harry's jaw dropped, stupefied; as the vehicles bounced up a storey
high, tumbling over in midair and crashing awkwardly unto nearby cars, one of them even
reaching as far off the road to crush a newspaper stand and a phone booth on the
pavement. Hermione woke up immediately to the loud crashing sound- bolting upright as
her eyes opened wide in terror. The driver swerved hard to the right as one of the vehicles
tumbled over a couple of times, coming directly into their path.

"WATCH OUT!" Tonks screamed, bracing herself in her chair. The driver did well, banking
hard to the left and riding up unto the curb as a few petrified pedestrians screamed in
terror, scampering out of the way.

"Get out of the way! Coming through!" Joseph Ulfalusi screamed, locking the steering wheel
hard in the opposite direction as the van tipped precariously on its side from riding so hard
up on the pavement. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry spotted suspicious figures emerging
on top of the buildings on either side of the road. Even as their driver struggled to maintain
control, Harry mentally prepared himself to handle the adrenaline rush that was bound to
come, and to keep his cool. Kingsley's psychology class trained him well for these situations,
and tested them using an adrenaline infusion charm to observe how each of the S.T.A.R.
trainees would react to given emergencies. Thankfully, Harry had passed the exam with no
complications, having the battle experience that few others had. Opening the equipment
backpack next to Hermione, he yanked out his invisibility cloak.

"Listen Hermione, we know what to do right?! Ready? I'm going to issue you a calming
draught to perform the Occlumens spell." Shoving a small vial at her, Hermione had to
grasp it tightly with both hands as their driver navigated the wide sidewalk, wrestling the
van to a screeching halt. Uncorking it, she downed it in a single gulp, feeling a wave of
tranquility quickly envelop her. "Good?" Harry shouted. "Do it!" The other vans had already
stopped a distance behind them, the Aurors fanning out in groups of four and five, sprinting
across the road to get cover underneath the recessed doorways of the buildings. Hermione
drew her wand, and pointed it at Harry.

"Leglimens! " she whispered, and Harry felt the touch of her mind. Closing his eyes, he tried
his best to drop his natural defenses, allowing her privy to his thoughts. When he felt the
contact firmly establish, he roughly threw the invisibility cloak around her, and yanked open
the sliding door.

"INCOMING!" Joseph screamed, and he and Howard Pelsy, an auror from the healing
division dove low behind the dash. A dark blue post box was hurtling towards them,
bouncing crazily as another magical blast took out a large chunk of pavement. The ducked
just in time as it crashed into the windscreen, lodging itself into the dashboard and the front
seat. Glass sprayed inside of the vehicle, and Hermione screamed, throwing up her hands to
cover her face. Harry twisted quickly in his seat, climbing halfway over to shield her from
the worst of it. His mantle of the phoenix was peppered with shards of glass as he protected
her with his own body. Tonks had dived to the floor, her upper body on the tiny space
between Harry's chair and the front seats. Without hesitation, she squirmed out of the van
and slid underneath it.

"Get her out of here!" she said urgently, and Harry jumped out of the vehicle, reaching out
towards the deceptively empty backseat.

"Take my hand!" he ordered, pulling her out of the van. Harry ducked down low and
sprinted to the nearest building. Pointing his wand he muttered the charm to open the door.
"Alohomora!" He shoved her inside. "Remember to keep the mental contact! I'll have no
idea where you are unless you do!"

"All right!" she replied, fear evident in her voice. " Be careful!" Harry nodded, and ran back
out into the fray.

*******************
"You're sure she was in the third vehicle?" Emmanuel Evellyn asked on of the men in his
team. His subordinate nodded vigorously, the upside down mask on his face making it
difficult to really identify who it was. There were so many of them here, and the only way to
identify each other was by a code sign on their attack robes. By the double stripe on his
sleeve, Evellyn knew he was the squad leader of the demolitions team.

"The traps worked perfectly sir, the multiple Repulsion mines have caught the enemy
unaware. Our insider has identified her to be travelling with the Auror commander, two
male aurors, and a female auror. We have seen her exit the vehicle, she's still down there
on the corner of James Street and Holden Street, adjacent to the Bakery."

"Good. Remember, she is not to be harmed. I want sniper fire concentrated on their
commander, and cover fire for our duellists when they go in close. When I give the signal,
you are to detonate the other mines to cover our escape, if need be. If possible, we rather
just slaughter them right here and now."

"Yes sir. Is Lord Macnair on his way?" the demolitions man enquired.

"He should be here any minute now to claim his prize..." Evellyn said smugly. "The
Followers will be victorious, and our Master will be pleased. We will be in the graces of Lord
Lestrange by the end of the day, mark my words." Evellyn laughed as the other man bowed
slightly and darted across the rooftops.

And if things went well, he would have the privilege of finally being granted status as one of
the revered Death Eaters.

******************

"Tonks, where are the others?" Harry asked the Hermione look alike as he darted back to
the van. She was huddled behind the vehicle, the two other men flanking her, peeking
around the body of the van periodically to assess the situation. "How much of them are
there?" he demanded, as a seemingly infinite rain of curses hailed down all around them,
except at their position.

"Fifty, maybe a hundred, and they've got us pinned. The strange thing is, they aren't
shooting at us, though. Seems I'm their real target, well, you know who. She's safe right?"

"Yeah- for the while," Harry said, peeking around the edge of the van. It was not looking
good, in the crazy smash up of vehicles, his men were pinned down under constant fire,
using a desperate shield charm as brave medics raced from one injured group to another.
There was mass hysteria as muggles ran away full steam away from the carnage. He looked
at where one of the cars had flipped over unto a parked taxi, and grimaced as he saw blood
leaking from the driver side door. There were already casualties. Taking out his walkie-
talkie, he barked orders to his obliviator sub commander, Lionel Wilkins.

"I want all traffic diverted from this block. Use four anti-plotting wards and six forgetful
illusions to bluff off any authorities or passers by. Tell Nilsson and Charles that I want a
Deja Vu memory hex on all civilians here- a twelve hour one. It may take that long to round
'em all up and have the M.A.R.S crew get everything back in place. Take Rogers and
Richardson to hunt down those that ran. I'm going to tell Kingsley we need re-
enforcements. Check the fifth van for the broomsticks. GO!" he shouted.
"Harry- they're blocking our exit- we need to help Riley and Summers! They're going after
our rear guard as well!" Tonks pointed, as nearly twenty robed figures floated down using
the featherweight charm from the surrounding buildings. Harry cursed. They weren't just
laying suppressing fire; they were also coming in for the kill.

"I'll handle it. Are the escape countermeasures in place?" he asked Joseph.

"Yeah- the blinding flash detonators are ready. You just give the word."

"All right, I'll give the signal when I'm ready. Tonks, grab some cover, and remember,
you're covert, you're not to engage. Joseph, Pelsy, look after her, and keep an eye on that
bakery. Our V.I.P. is in there, but to them; Tonks here is their target. Shoot to kill anyone
who comes close to either of them, understood?"

"Aye, commander."

"They won't get anywhere near them." Harry nodded, and activated his shield charm.

"Protego!" He darted out into the street in a half crouch, weaving low in between the
vehicles. As soon as he was spotted, he cursed loudly as blue, red, and even green bolts of
magic sizzled towards him, ricocheting off the cars or simply blasting a hole into them. He
ducked behind a heavy two-ton truck, contemplating how he was going to get through all
that sniper fire from the rooftops unscathed. Kingsley had warned him against using Dark
magic, but right now, they were so greatly outnumbered he didn't care about that. They
definitely were targeting him, and wanted him dead. Taking a deep breath, he drew his
wand

"Replicate! " he incanted, and a fainter version of him split off from his body, slowly gaining
substance as the spell intensified. Rapping the top of his head lightly with his wand, he used
the Disillusionment hex to disappear into a vague outline of himself. With another flick of his
wand, he blew open a fire hydrant nearby, causing the water to spout up high into the air.
Using the slight distraction, his clone ran off in one direction, and he followed it after a few
seconds of watching it dodge and swerve in an out of the vehicles, retaliating with useless
spells. Silently, he began to run lightly towards his comrades at the end of the street.

******************

"Captain," Joseph addressed his squad leader, Nymphadora Tonks. "Is he really as good as
they say he is?" Joseph really respected him for defeating Voldemort, but truthfully, some of
the other guys believed that it was sheer luck and the fact that it was destined that Harry
was the only one capable of defeating him that he could have done it. But for a boy so
young to be part of the S.T.A.R. Elite, that was pushing it. Tonks smiled a knowing smile.

"See for yourself," Tonks indicated down the street. "He's gone to help Riley and the
others," she pointed. Joseph looked around, but only saw Harry Potter doing a great
imitation of a headless chicken as the enemies above rained cursed down on him. Frowning,
he realized that some of them were actually hitting him, but nothing was happening.

"What is he doing?" he asked. Was he mad?

"That's not him. Look!" Tonks pointed at the twenty or so "Followers" that had their rear
guard pinned down. A spell shot out from seemingly nowhere, hitting one in the back. As he
fell, the one closest to him looked around wildly for the source of that sneak attack. Harry
got as close behind his clueless victim, pointed his wand at the same height as the
Follower's wand and took direct aim at another.

Another bolt of red magic shot forth as the perplexed Escapee apparently let loose another
stunning hex. Bewildered, he looked down at his wand. "It wasn't me- I swear!"

"LIAR! I saw it with my own eyes!"

"No - I didn't-" another blast of magic, and his accuser was sent reeling back, knocking
down two others. The targeted escapee froze, dropping his wand. "Stop! No- "

But it was too late, more than a half dozen spells rained on him, and the poor man's chest
split open with a spray of blood, the accumulative spells leaving him frozen, stunned, and
petrified as he fell to the ground. Harry darted towards another escapee, hexing the one
closest to the man's left. Enraged, he too, turned against his own.

"They're under the Imperius curse!" he declared, attacking him next. Unable to even
protest, they began to duel, while yet another escapee also apparently attacked one of his
own, falling him with a single blow. Pandemonium ensued amongst that squadron of
Followers, none really able to identify each other under their identical masks. In a matter of
nearly thirty seconds, all twenty-something of them were attacking each other, as well as
trying to fend of Riley, Summers and a few other aurors. Darting in between the battles,
Harry calmly took out the winners of the self-destructive skirmishes with a few well-placed
curses. Some miniature explosions and a thick cloud of smoke later, all of the escapees
there were accounted for. Harry disengaged the disillusionment jinx and walked quickly out
of the smoke, dusting off his sleeve.

"All right. That's that. You two, round up these guys in proper binding hexes. I'm going and
see what can be down with the guys on top. Radio Nilsson and say that the coast is clear for
any evacuation, and to hurry up with the Deja Vu hex."

It took a while for the seven aurors to respond, still not quite believing it. "Er- Y-yes..

"Take the injured to safety, the three of you. You two," he pointed to the two healers in
their group- Paul Summers and Roy McGinnis- "Come with me."

"Sir, the snipers!" Summers warned him, pointing at the rooftops at the numerous figures
crouched low on top the buildings. "Protego!" he incanted, shielding himself. "Aren't you
going to defend yourself?" he asked.

"Not yet, I'll need to borrow some of their magic. Listen; deflect all stunners aimed at you
to my general direction. Only the Stunners, understood?" Harry ordered.

"Sir-"

"Don't worry. I've done this before. " Well maybe with not so much attackers, but right now,
the more stunners, the merrier. They sprinted back up the street, assisting those who were
pinned down under fire or needed a levitation spell to take them away for treatment.
Harry's clone was fading, and gradually more fire was aimed down at them. As they
progressed back up the street, more and more Aurors joined them on as they fought their
way back to the front where the majority of their injured were. And as predicted, more and
more stunners were directed at Harry as his dummy clone faded away into nothing. "All
right, when I give the signal, get as much cover as you can." Holding his wand straight up
into the sky, he incanted the absorption technique.

"Assimiliar incante! " His wand began to hum audibly, and nearby stunners began to divert
to the tip of his wand as if being pulled in by a strong magnet. Using a wandless
incantation, he summoned a panel van's sliding door towards him, brandishing it like a
shield while it hovered against his forearm. The door adequately deflected minor jinxes, but
after a couple of reductor blasts had hit it, it got too hot for him to manoeuvre. However, it
was enough. The stunners aimed at him had increased in frequency, and his wand now felt
like bursting with all that he absorbed.

"Grab some cover!" he ordered, and the Aurors who were trying to counter attack the
seemingly endless Followers immediately drew back, engaging an accumulative shield
charm. Harry stood alone in the open now, his wand floating in between his palms, rotating
on all directional axes faster and faster.

"Is he-?" Summers breathed.

"Siphoning technique? Looks so-" Greening said speculatively.

"But, Christ almighty man, it's so many of them- he'll explode with that amount of stored
energy-" another commented.

"Hey," an Auror from the Ministry security department laughed. " I was with Ferdinand the
day he did this to us at Hogwarts. This is no ordinary kid..." he pointed as Harry channelled
a huge ball of Stunning magic between his palms, moulding it faster and faster until it
encased him fully, eating away at the ground and any close objects in its path. In the
center, Harry worked furiously, trying to maintain control of his ever-increasing orb of
absorbed magic.

"You got to have a huge magic reservoir to channel all of that magic, usually, only three or
four could be absorbed before it blows up in your face...but he's-"

Harry's orb of magic expanded...

"Just.."

The followers started to realize what was going on, and those on the ground quickly
disengaged and ran for cover-

"Freaking..."

Tonks and her two escorts dove underneath the van, taking shelter any way they could.
Harry forced his palms together, compressing the nexus of his channelled ball of energy.
With a mighty yell, it propelled high into the sky, a huge orb about ten feet in radius of pure
Stunning energy.

"... talented," he whispered.

"Stupefy! " Harry breathed, and the red ball exploded in the sky, shattering windows and
rattling the strewn cars on the road. The explosion took out most of the attackers on the
roof of the three buildings to his right, and six on his left. Rubble fell as rooftops crumbled,
barely holding up their own weight. Numerous robed figures fell limply from their perches
on top of the buildings, most of them landing on the ripped apart vehicles littering the road.

After a few seconds of catching his breath, Harry signalled for the healers to go and see to
their wounded, without fear of attack from above. Nodding to the duelling specialists
scattered about, he rallied them to hunt down the remaining Followers who undoubtedly
high tailing it on foot.

"I've arranged to set up the deja vu hex, you know it goes, they’ll get confused as they’ll
keep seeing the same streets over and over. Like lab rats- running around in circles.
Apprehend them and round them up in the square. I’ll go for the others up north. Make sure
the shortest route to the Ministry is clear, as well as to St. Mungo’s. We don’t want any
surprises on our way there.” All around him blasts from the remainder of the resistance
tried in vain to take down some of the aurors as they made their desperate escape, but with
a ruthless efficiency, Harry and nine others got them all. After nearly twenty minutes of
intense fighting, all that was left to do was to clean up this mess. Walking amongst the
rubble, he felt the tiredness of the past few months creeping up on him again. He was damn
tired in fact, but for now, work had to be done. He grimaced at some of the injuries suffered
by three of his men and some muggles, some severe enough that amputations may be
necessary. As he thought about the field healers, his mind focused don Hermione. Now that
the fighting was done, he concentrated on their Occlumens connection. At that moment,
Harry sensed her using a powerful spell. What was she doing?

Looking around wildly, he tried to picture her location from the source of magic. He spotted
her- wait no, that was Tonks. At that moment Tonks was kneeling next to her fallen
comrade, administering aid. However as he focused at the scene, he could see another pair
of hands holding a glowing object. Hermione was on the battlefield, actually helping the
injured! Was she crazy?

“What the hell…” Harry grumbled, irritated. What if something was to happen- she was out
in the open!

As he said it, a warning bell suddenly went of in his head. He heard it first, that horrible
sound. The sound of rushing wings, flapping powerfully. Then the smell, then lastly, a chill
dropped in the air. The multi-storeyed building nearest to Hermione rumbled then echoed
with the sound of something huge hitting it. Looking up to his left, he saw the huge wings of
an ice green dragon appear from behind the building. Another powerful tremor shook the
ground below their feet as the dragon pounced off the ground, landing on the roof of the
six-storey building, resembling a huge lizard perched on top of a high vantage point.

“Holy fuck!!” one of the aurors screamed, his mouth dropping in awe. Hermione stopped her
spell, and Tonks and the few other healers turned about, peering high at the enormous ice
Dragon. Harry’s breath puffed in front of his face as the temperature became terrifyingly
cold. The dragon let loose an ear splitting squeal, heralding it’s arrival on the battlefield.
Harry blocked his ears from the sheer magnitude of that sound, squinting high at the
dragon.

Oh no…

There was a spike of mental contact from Hermione, then suddenly the contact vanished. A
young auror used the opportunity of the Dragon’s arrival to draw her wand and stun Tonks
and Hermione in the back. Both women fell on top of the injured, Tonks’ metamorphosis
spell reverting her to her normal self, while the invisibility cloak fell off of Hermione. With a
smirk, the young auror levitated Hermione into the air, and Harry froze to the spot –not
believing it. His eyes riveted on the young woman’s face.

It was Lillian Kelsing: the same girl who was in the S.T.A.R. trainee class, and now the
youngest in Nymphadora’s squad. She was the one who asked who their V.I.P. was
yesterday morning. He couldn’t believe it. They were friends at Lionheart!

Macnair cackled at the sight of Hermione floating there in midair, ready for the taking.
Pointing his wand, he summoned her towards him. Mobilicorpus! Harry’s worst nightmare
was coming true.

“NO!” Harry screamed, running full tilt towards Kelsing. Before he even realised it, he was
on top of her, his hands gripped around her throat. “It was you!”

“Get off me-“ she struggled, her hands gripped so tightly around his forearms that she drew
blood. Suddenly, the dragon hissed in deeply, and Harry looked up, watching in trepidation
as its nostrils flared. Opening it’s massive jaws, it spewed frozen breath down the street,
encasing everything and everyone in ice. The aurors who tried to run were immediately
frozen, while those who desperately put up a shield were encased in a solid sphere of ice.
The wounded, the Followers, everything in it’s path was immediately frozen as the dragon
stretched its neck downwards, spewing another wave of deadly frost. Harry saw the ice
forming from down the street, racing towards him and the few nearby who ran for cover
inside of the nearest buildings. Watching the deadly cold approaching, he wasted no time
and yanked Kelsing to her feet, shoving her inside of a badly damaged ministry van. Sealing
it using the Impervius Charm, he locked the door and turned his back on her. Not having
enough time to get them to safety, he crouched over Tonks and the injured she was
treating, splaying the mantle of the Phoenix over all of them as he summoned the Infernus.

“Protego! Inciendo Almasier!”

A domed shield formed over him and those beneath him, then was immediately covered in
fire, creating a blazing dome of protection. The Dragon blasted the area until it ran short of
breath. With a flourish, Harry cancelled the fire shield and stood up, facing the dragon
perched on the building. Macnair sat proudly on his steed as he reeled in Hermione using his
wand. He licked his lips. Young Kelsing had done well. So infatuated he was with the girl in
his arms, he did not realise that there was still person on the street putting up a fight.

“MACNAIR! We meet again!” Harry bellowed, taunting him. Macnair froze, looking around
the massive head of the Dragon.

Oh no…

“YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE IN THE HOSPITAL!” Macnair screamed, not believing his eyes.
“WHY?” he questioned himself and his terrible bad luck. Then it clicked. All of this- the
Azkaban escapees who adored Lestrange, the dragon, the kidnap attempt, all of it was just
a diversion. Lestrange had played him for a fool, using this as an oppurtunity to sneak into
Hogwarts. He would have never tried this if he knew Potter was going to be here. Feeling a
sort of dread wash over him, he quickly made a decision. He would not run away. He had
the advantage. He had his woman, the Dragon, and the higher ground. What could he do
from down there?

“Macnair- I’m warning you-”

“BRINGS BACK OLD MEMORIES, EH BOY? I THINK WE’VE PLAYED THIS OUT BEFORE. THIS
TIME I’M NOT LETTING HER GO.”

“I swear- if you dare hurt her ..I will not rest until you are dead!”

“STRONG WORDS! LOOK HERE-“ without any warning he slapped her across the face,
rocking her head to the side. “ HA! WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO? YOU CAN’T TOUCH ME
FROM THERE-!”

“Maybe not Potter, but I can,” came a voice directly behind him.

Macnair jumped, squinting his eyes at the sun as he peered behind him. Draco Malfoy was
hovering in midair, his cloak billowing in wind.

“Expelliarmus! he shouted, pointing his wand at Macnair. Hermione flew out of his arms,
and Draco shot off, diving for her as she fell. The dragon swiped a massive paw at him, but
Draco was quick, avoiding the brunt of it as the thumb caught hold of his cloak. The edge of
the claw barely grazed him, but it was enough to open up his leg from the calf to the
Achilles tendon. Draco screamed in pain, but did not lose concentration on his flying ability.
He dove after Hermione, scooping her in his arms, dodging a quick blast of ice as he twirled
around a lamppost. His leg was spurting blood by what felt like gallons, making his head
swim. He knew he was going to pass out. Gritting his teeth, he aimed for Potter like a
kamikaze jet fighter. “CATCH!” he shouted, dropping her as he careened past. Harry pointed
his wand, and lowered her gently as she fell. Draco screamed, and uttered another curse as
he fell headlong into the five feet of solid ice covering the street.

Igniting his body on fire, he came to a violent crash landing, skidding headfirst for nearly
fifteen feet, leaving a long canal of molten ice in his wake. The infernus fires extinguished
immediately as he smashed into a frozen vehicle. He lay there, motionless, steam rising
from the ice melting all around him. Harry’s heart skipped a beat. It couldn’t be. Was he…
dead?

“DRACO?” Harry shouted, his eyes never leaving Macnair’s, who was seething with rage.
There was an awkward silence where Harry felt that the worse had indeed happened. He
looked down at Hermione, looking all heroic in Auror robes, with a large black and blue
bruise marring the side of her face. His eyes shot back up to Macnair, hate building up so
strongly he found it impossible that Macnair could not feel it.

“Potter…” a voice croaked. Harry stiffened. He was alive! “Kingsley...s-said.. said you
needed…re-enforcements? Sorry I’m late…uhh..” Draco coughed feebly, trying to laugh at
his own little joke. “He’s all yours…” he said to himself, and with that, he fell unconscious.
Harry aid Hermione down carefully, closing his eyes briefly. Standing back to his full height,
he re-opened them, burning alive with a pulsing blue light.

” It has been a long time since we fought. You are the only wizard I have yet to
defeat. I congratulate you, Dragonrider.” Harry said solemnly.

“YEAH? WELL I DON’T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT YOUR ‘CONGRATULATIONS’!!” Macnair

screamed. “IF I CAN’T HAVE HER- NO ONE WILL!” he declared, a psychotic gleam in his
eyes. With a battle yell, he commanded Frosty to take flight, flapping her huge wings
majestically so that she bobbed up and down in midair. Harry stepped away from the
injured he was shielding, coming out into the open with deliberate strides.

Meanwhile, inside of the storefronts and muggle buildings, the entrapped aurors raced up
the stairs to the higher levels to get a better vantage point of the confrontation. Summers
and Roy McGinnis were the first up to the second floor, drawing back the curtains as they
took sniper positions at strategic points. McGinnis took out his walkie-talkie.

“Attention all units- do not fire unless you have a crystal clear shot at the rider. That dragon
could pulverise the building you are in with one blow, including all the muggles trapped
inside. Do not, I repeat: do not attack until you are sure the non-combatants are
evacuated. The commander will deal with the situation at hand. Our priority is to get
everyone out of here.” Summers gave McGinnis a shocked look.

“Are you sure he can take out that dragon?” Summers asked, bewildered.

“I was part of the M.A.R.S. division that cleaned up Hogwarts that fateful night over two
years ago. Apparently, these two same wizards fought dragons that night, and won.
Commander Potter and Agent Malfoy are specialists. They did not achieve their status by
fluke. They are the S.T.A.R. elite. Here they go.”

The scene played out in virtual slow motion. The dragon drew a deep breath hissing as it
sucked in the crisp morning air. Many metres away, one lone man stood in a patch of ice,
his eyes burning fiercely as he discarded his cloak of his shoulders. Placing one foot in front
of the other, he bent his knee slightly, raising his left fist slightly above and behind his
head. Closing his eyes to slits, he moved his lips fractionally as he began reciting a spell he
had used only twice before. This time, he would not hold back.

"Protego Maximus, Reducto exertimus, Protego exertimus, Reducto Maximus…”

Harry whispered, drawing his wand arm back, feeling the magic swell from deep inside,
channelling into the tip of his wand.

“DIE, YOU CURSED BOY!!” Macnair screamed, squeezing his legs around Frosty's neck,
giving her the signal to attack. The dragon screamed, and it’s chest expanded, ready to
exhale its icy hell. At the same moment, Harry drew his wand back as far as he could, his
recital getting faster, more urgent with it’s frequency. Light beginning to emanate from the
tip, then dramatically grew brighter and brighter….blinding in it’s sheer brilliance, charging
to it’s full capacity. Before the Dragon had chance to release it’s deadly breath, Harry had
attacked.

"REDUCTO ULTIMA!!"

In the space of a heartbeat, London city had witnessed what appeared to be the pre-
emptive flash of a miniature nuclear explosion. But instead of an immense mushroom cloud
of death, the flash faded away, leaving only smoke and destruction in it’s path. Macnair,
along with his dragon had vaporized into dust. The eighth and ninth floors of the
construction site of a new office building behind had vanished, leaving steel bars ending
abruptly in a concave arc consistent with the blast radius of the Ultimate Destruction Spell.
The whole street was now covered in a fine red dust, blood and sand mixing and fusing
together to create red snow.

Harry Potter stood in the midst of the carnage, the only man standing amongst the bodies
frozen or littering the ground haphazardly. His entire body was seeping magical energy, his
wand still glowing hotly as magic visibly seeped out of his pores. Dropping his wand, he
began to hurl violently over his feet, clutching his midsection tightly. Falling to his knees, he
accepted the call to the blissful dark and fell headfirst in a pool of ashy water. As the light
faded, he could hear a voice laughing at him.

Very good, young Harry. I have chosen well who will continue my legacy. Soon, I will walk
this earth again….

***********************

A/n 2: Now you know why I did not want to add the previous chapter to this one. This one
was pretty long. I guess it’s because I’m all Potter crazy once again, since I’ve finished book
six. Tell me, did you like this chapter? Don’t be scared, I appreciate all criticism. Thanks!
I’m out.

Chapter 22: From the Depths of One’s Soul…

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CHAPTER 22: From the Depths of One’s Soul…

It was dark.

Alone in the cell, he sat with his back to the wall, elbows propped on his knees, gripping his
thick hair in frustration. There was no light, yet he saw perfectly. The cell was infinitely
huge, yet claustrophobic all the same. He was a prisoner in his own conscious. But he was
not alone. He wished he could tell the voice to just shut up.

Never, in all my years of battles, have I seen a magus with such raw power. Believe me,
young Harry; I dedicated my life to hunting down the evil, and the wicked. I have seen
many come and go. However, you have outdone all expectations.

“I don’t want your help, not anymore.”

Well, my young friend, that is no longer an option. Even though I have been dead for many
centuries, all this while I was still waiting, listening out for the call. One day I knew it would
come, but I never expected it to be from a whelp of only twelve years. The Basilisk was
Salazar’s experiment gone horribly wrong, a failed clone of Shalingini; and in the end, he
created a mindless instrument for his so called ‘blood cleansing’. We met there for the first
time, you and I, in Slytherin’s secret Potions chamber, an evil place of many horrible things.
You were extremely brave to enter.
“She was in there. My best friend’s sister. I had to do something.”

That was what drew my host to you, young Harry. The Sword of my father hears the cry of
all Gryffindors. But it answers only the strong. I am the true heir of Godric Gryffindor, but
my blood does not run in you. The Longbottom boy, he holds the purest lineage to my
namesake.

“Yes, I know. He used the sword in its true form before.”

But he was not as confident. He was not yet ready. I am glad I have chosen you instead.
Natural ability, my young friend. Alas, I was a deprived of magic henceforth my work was
done by other means, but raw talent is unmistakable. Future generations will know of your
name, and speak of it in only hushed tones. Your rise to power has been unparalleled. Your
combat ability rivals my own, and together, we are unstoppable. Do not cause more strife
between us. You will become more than just an ordinary man.

“What do you mean?”

You will become a Legend…

*****************

The evening sunset streamed through the windows, illuminating the simple bedroom. Harry
opened his eyes reluctantly, his eyes burning as they adjusted to the light. He blinked a
couple of times in succession to re-orient himself to his surroundings. This was not his bed,
neither was it in St. Mungo’s or Hogwarts. Where was he?

On cue, the door to the front of the room opened, and a young woman walked in. She
paused in the doorway, realizing that he was awake. Harry frowned, his vision clearing up
slowly as he tried to focus. He rubbed his eyes, still a bit disoriented.

“I think this is becoming a habit, commander,” came a soft voice.

“Lestrange?” Harry croaked, wondering why his voice was so sore. He sat up in bed,
stretching limbs that felt lethargic, unconsciously doing a self-analysis. Other than the fact
that his muscles were extremely cold, he felt fine.

“‘Rebecca’, please,” she said with a half smile. “How are you feeling?” she asked.

“Good, I guess,” Harry replied. “Where am I?” he asked, looking around at the various
military-related items about. Boots here, uniform there...wait, those were his things! He
quickly inspected himself under the covers. Whew, at least he had on clothes this time!

“My flat,” she replied, stepping into the room.

“Er- why am I here?”

“Your place is very well hidden, and they needed the bed at St Mungo’s, so I offered to look
after you.” Harry grimaced at what Hermione would think, but even so, was grateful that
Rebecca was willing to help.

“So much for the ministry’s ‘health plan’ I’m supposed to have,” Harry grumbled. “Okay,
two- you’re all healed up, so I guess Hermione was able to help?”
“Yes,” she smiled again. Harry found that a bit weird. She was quite different when she
smiled, more...well…girl-like. Harry mentally chastised himself. They were in her home, so
obviously she’ll be more at ease. “You’ve got quite an interesting witch as a girlfriend,
Harry,” Rebecca smiled. “She sealed my wounds, and helped cure all of the Aurors who
were injured as well- all in four days. Very talented, I must admit. She’s already a budding
celebrity at the ministry it seems…”

“Four days?” Harry asked. “How long was I-?”

“Today will be the fifth day since you passed out. You are really something, you know that?”
Rebecca said, looking at him strangely. Harry narrowed his eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“According to the doctors and Granger, there wasn’t anything wrong with you. Not a single
scratch- well except fingernail impressions on your forearms that is. The diagnosis said you
were, well, just tired and needed to fully recuperate. I’ve never heard about five day siesta
though...”

Don’t mind her Harry, we were just getting a bit more familiar with each other, weren’t we?

More laughter.

“I heard what happened, well what you did. Um…” Rebecca wrung her fingers together.
Harry found it quite uncharacteristic of her to be so nervous. He decided to give her a bit of
encouragement.

“Yeah?”

“I didn’t know you would go through all of that- erm… for me. I, well… you know- thanks for
saving me. If it weren’t for you- and Miss Granger, I may have been crippled for life. The
doctors told me my knife wounds weren’t healing, and sooner or later they’d get infected.”
She hesitated, and sat down on the edge of the bed by Harry’s feet. “Anyway, I don’t want
to think about it.”

“I – I’m glad I could have helped.” Harry shrugged, a bit unsure what to say. Rebecca
smiled again, and looked into his eyes. Her expression changed slightly as she noticed
something. Rebecca took out her wand, pointing it at his face. “What about the others- Hey!
What are you doing?” Harry objected.

“Hold still-“ she said, and lighted the tip of her wand. “Lumos! I’m going to check
something- “ she shone the light directly into his eye. Inspecting one, then the other, she
frowned. Harry blinked a few times rapidly, and took a hold of her hand, pinning it on the
bed.

“Okay- quit that out, Lestr- um… Rebecca,” Harry corrected. “What about the others?”

“Granger sorted them out as well- even that brat, Malfoy. If it were me, I wouldn’t have
gone through all the trouble for that jerk.” Rebecca stared at him intensely now. “They say
you can do the Reducto Ultima curse?” Rebecca’s grip tightened around his fingers. “I have
to ask you: is this really true?”
“Yeah...I can,” Harry said cautiously. Rebecca’s face creased again in another frown.

“Pardon me if I’m stepping out of line, commander, but you do know that isn’t a spell many
people can execute, and is rated grade ‘S’ Cataclysmic magic. And on top of that, that
particular curse was only used by Dark Wizards…”

“Yeah?” Harry countered, abruptly letting her hand go. “Dumbledore could do it, and he isn’t
a Dark Wizard is he? And neither am I!” Harry said defensively.

“Don’t bite my head off. I’m only voicing concerns that I think some of the bureaucrats in
the higher tiers are whispering these days…”

“Do you mean Diggory?” Harry knew that she didn’t really like him.

“No, actually, if I didn’t know you better; from the way she talks about her ‘Commander’; I
would have believed that Jesus himself has come again .She seems hell bent on capturing
those escapees, and annihilating all the remaining Death Eaters.” Harry snorted derisively in
response to that. “It’s kind of scary the lengths she goes to. But you are the one I’m really
concerned about, are you sure you’re okay? It has been five days you know, and no one
could have waken you …”

That point, at least, I agree with the woman. We must cut our recuperation time, Potter.
Time waits for no man…

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Harry said softly, looking at the wand on the bedside table. He thought
about Macnair, and how he was getting more and more immune to the violence with each
passing duel. And now he was having five day long conversations, with himself. What was
happening to him?

“That’s good, because now I have a few questions to ask you. One- why are your eyes now
blue?”

“They are?”

“Yes. They were green the last time I saw you as far as I remember.”

“I don’t know,” Harry said, looking into the small mirror on the bedside table. “I’ll ask the
healers when I go to do my report.”

“Two- well, this isn’t really a question. I’m just letting you know that there are some
different, er- attitudes towards you know in the office. Some are hailing you as the next
“Great” and can’t wait to be in your team again, while others are... well… to put it bluntly,
scared of you.”

“Scared? Scared?! Why?”

“You took out a dragon with one spell. Isn’t that enough?”

“Listen-“

“Wait- before you go all out on a rant: I am not scared of you. In fact your magical prowess
is comforting-“ Harry froze, a weird expression on his face. Rebecca bit her lip,
embarrassed. “I mean, well to me, that is-” Harry raised an eyebrow. “As in professionally,
you are good-“ and in my bed…

Harry’s eyes widened as that particular thought was unintentionally picked up by his
Occlumens ability.

“-well, dueling and battles, I mean, the odds were amazing- “ my god- am I having
thoughts about my commander?

Harry blinked once or twice-

“- but you pulled through, only one muggle casualty, one Auror casualty- “ yes you are-
don’t lie to yourself

At this, Harry shut his eyes, what the hell was going on here? Why was he hearing her
thoughts?

“Eighty escapees captured, three of them dead and a Death eater eradicated…you should
feel proud-“ Becky, you’re twenty-four, and never had a boyfriend. What are you waiting
for? And he is cute…

“STOP!” Harry screamed. Rebecca froze, literally. So did the little clock on the wall, and the
curtain that was fluttering in the breeze also came to an immediate standstill. At that
moment, his head began to pound furiously- and his vision became blurry. Closing them for
a second, he reopened them, and his vision was once again fine.

“Ah, so that’s how using magic instinctively feels,” said Harry, his tone of voice going from
an extremely low grumble then back to normal. He brought up his arms, inspecting his
hands as if he had never seen it before. He stared at the lady in front of her. “Beautiful
woman, I must say. ” Harry looked down at his hands again, feeling a different ‘tingling’ in
his fingertips. “This, the gift I have been so denied my life, feels wonderful! I wonder? ”
Harry looked at the wand on the bedside table. Picking it up, it felt familiar, yet untrained,
but he knew that he could learn quickly.

“Could it be? I have seen all my peers with this, am I now able to-?” Harry grinned, not
daring to believe it. “Winguardium Lleviosa!”

The whole room rumbled a bit, then was dormant once more. “Wait- they used a technique
as well. They called it a ‘swish and a flick?’ Hmmm… ” Harry inspected the piece of wood,
then made the movements needed. “Winguardiam Lleviosa!” The bed trembled, then rose
steadily off the floor a couple inches. Harry grinned wildly as the bed, along with Rebecca,
levitated for a few seconds.

Get out of my head!

The bed dropped dramatically, and Harry had to blink once or twice to catch himself. Jesus
Christ- what the hell happened there? Luckily, Rebecca was still frozen. For a moment, raw
magic had escaped him, and all of his innate abilities suddenly sprang to action. He wanted
answers, so his Occlumens training kicked in. Then he wanted her to stop thinking about
what she was thinking, so he cried out. And amazingly, it resulted in him creating a very
illegal Time wrapping charm. He had to set this correct.

“Finite!” he incanted, and Time itself in this room returned. Harry had the uncomfortable
feeling of disappearing from one spot and back into the bed without realizing that he did not
use his legs or apparation to do it. Jumping back in time was very scary.

“-feel proud of yourself. I , for one, am grateful.“ And I think I have a schoolgirl crush on
someone younger than me…how pathetic are we these days Becky?

Harry immediately broke eye contact and brought up the imaginary brick walls in his mind,
blocking her out. Her voice stopped whispering to him, and his head was clear once more. It
was so fast- but he realized why his Teleportation magic was so dangerous. It revolved in
creating ‘black holes’ where distance, matter, time and reality were linked directly from one
place to another. If done wrong, as Solidus had just done by skipping out certain constants
of physics, he had inadvertently froze time for almost twelve seconds, and could have
created a very serious problem. That lapse in concentration, what had caused it? Without
warning he yanked up the mirror. His eyes were back to normal, brilliant green. Harry lay
back in the bed, looking at the ceiling as Rebecca babbled on. Her voice was comforting
though. Usually she was all cold and business like, but now…

“-Arry? Hey, Potter? Listening? There’s another thing of some importance.”

He nodded, even though he did not want to talk right now. That episode- he had completely
lost himself, and allowed Solidus to take over for almost twelve seconds. Twelve seconds of
being fully possessed. Scary thought.

“What is it?” Harry said, not even looking at her as his thoughts were focused on that
episode a few seconds ago.

“You know, Sherry Diggory has officially become minister just over a year now, well with
that Hogsmeade fiasco with Fudge and so on. So her anniversary er- thing is this weekend-“

“Uh hmm?” Harry prodded, thinking that he finally got Macnair for good. After thinking that,
he frowned. How could he consider killing another man as something satisfactory? He was
definitely not thinking straight.

“And to celebrate the first phase of a successful campaign, she’s holding a banquet in the
‘S.T.A.R. team’s name. Well, she’s saying the ‘team’, but everyone knows it’s because of
you…”

“Oh really?” Harry said dismissively.

“Well, obviously you would have to make an appearance.” Rebecca Lestrange paused, as if
measuring her next few words. “ It’s a ministry thing. Supposed to build inter-department
camaraderie and all that. Um- I think we should go. Well, seeing as we’re on the same team
and so on…”

Harry wasn’t paying much attention, and nodded easily without putting much thought into
it.

“Okay. Why not?“

Rebecca’s face was incredulous. A smile spread across her face, and touched his hand.
“Great. It’ll be...” Rebecca paused, trying to quell the strange little feeling in her stomach.
My god, she couldn’t believe she was feeling like this again. She cleared her throat, and
tried to regain a semblance of her trademark professionalism. Well, more like tried. “A
relaxing evening in the company of comrades.”
Realizing that Harry still was a bit caught off guard, she hastily made an exit. “I er- have to
do some grocery shopping. Make yourself at home. Don’t mind the cat, he’s nasty to
everyone. Stay for dinner with me - my treat. Be back in a bit. The store is right down the
road. Bathroom’s second on left if you want. Don’t run away, okay?” she laughed. And with
that rapid-fire flurry of one-lined sentences, she was out the door and gone. Harry tried to
process what happened in the last five minutes- from bad to worse.

Slept five days straight from after three days of combat. Inexplicable symptoms of chronic
fatigue- so severe it was almost a near comatose condition. Bad, but not unheard of.

Gossip about him has evolved: The next ‘Great’- or the next ‘Dark Lord’? Funny headline if
Ministry opinion was anything to go by. He was accustomed to tall stories about him. Seems
a tad bit more serious now, so that was not good.

Eighty-three escapees accounted for, and one death eater dead. One Auror and one Muggle
killed. Two good guys, gone forever. Two lives lost since he assumed the position. He must
do better.

Solidus had complete control for twelve seconds, and managed to freeze time doing it.
Solidus, a known and feared Dark Wizard hunter, had him, one who could do the Ultima
Spell, under his control. Not to mention that he himself had no clue how to manipulate
time- this did not look good. Not good at all.

Malfoy was right. He couldn’t pretend to be ignorant of this anymore. Something serious
was happening to him. He had to keep this quiet and figure out a way, or else people would
think that he was going insane.

***************

Lillian Kelsing knew that failure came with a cost. Imprisoned on charges of treason, and an
impending trial that did not look good in her favour. If she got fifteen years in the new
detention center, she’ll consider herself lucky. For now, all she could do was hope that Lord
Lestrange will show leniency and break her free. From what she heard of the last person
captured by the S.TA.R. Elite, Steven Warshire was not a man to cross wills with. At least,
being held as a military prisoner, the use of the Cruciatus was disallowed until after her
trial. She needed to find a way to escape this temporary jail before that time reached. When
the door opened and a young girl walked in as if she wasn’t sure what she was doing there
in the first place, Lillian had to admit she was surprised. Her eyes narrowed.

“Who are you?” she demanded.

“Oh, don’t mind that. I’m just here to deliver a message, and to come for something. I’m
supposed to ask you if you do know what this ‘something’ is, because I don’t,” Luna said
airily, wearing a very non- descript witch’s gown. “Ralphie says that he will come and rescue
you, but you must give him what he wants. Do you have it?”

Lillian smiled. Rodulphus Lestrange sent this young woman to infiltrate the detention
center? She was expecting someone with a bit more experience. Putting that thought to the
back of her mind, she looked at the fingernail on her right hand. It was dirty underneath.
But this fingernail was her ticket out of here. Carefully, she tore off the end of the nail.
“Potter’s skin, and some dried blood, As per orders. I’ve taken extreme care to create a
miniature stasis charm around my hand, so it would be fresh enough to suffice. When will
milord come?” Kelsing asked Luna.

“When he’s good and ready.”

“Is that all you can say?”

“Not really, but I don't feel like having a conversation here. But you will give that disgusting
fingernail to me, so I can leave,” Luna said imperiously, even though her expression did not
change. She opened a tiny pouch. Lillian glared at Luna, but did not object. She placed the
fingernail into the bag, and Luna tightened the drawstring. “Thank you. Have a nice day,”
Luna said airily, and exited just as dreamily as she entered. Lillian scowled. She risked her
life to get Potter’s skin sample for the Polyjuice potion, and this is how she was treated?

The girl even had the gall to leave the door open. How the hell did she get in here anyway?
Lillian cursed loudly, not caring who heard her. Would Lestrange really free her? Or would
she be left her to face trail and be shipped off to Siren’s Rock? Feeling deserted, she
slumped down in the corner and began to cry.

****************

Back at Hogwarts, the Order of the Phoenix was having another meeting, this one with a
heavy air of failure and doubts. Almost two years after the fall of the Voldemort, everything
was not as it should be, turmoil was everywhere, the war was nowhere close to being
finished. However significant the night of the Battle of King’s Crown was in the turn of the
tides to the side of the Light, the events of that night had a ripple effect that was now
coming to the forefront.

The facts were coming together now, and now that the pieces were beginning to fit,
Dumbledore knew that if they did not act soon, the prophecy would indeed come to pass.

“We know what must be done. The question is, can we do it?” Dumbledore said grimly to
the Order. “As of the moment, the answer is no. That is why I have brought us together to
welcome to new members to the Order of the Phoenix, who I daresay, have been unofficial
members ever since I can remember.” Dumbledore smiled at the two youngest at the table.
“I’m sure you know them already, but I will still present them to you never-the-less.”
Dumbledore cleared his throat.

“Firstly, allow me to introduce Sir Ronald Weasley, the youngest Knight of the Magi in two
centuries; an exceptional tactician bearing the title of Order of Merlin Third class.
Impromptu leader of the strike force against Voldemort and his Death Eaters on that fateful
night after I was incapacitated by Draco Malfoy. Without him, victory would have eluded
us.”

Ronald nodded solemnly. He knew this had gotten deadly serious. It was all over the news.
And being on the inside, all of the media hype was not just “hype”. It was getting clearer
and clearer by the day.

“And let me introduce you to our youngest ever female member of the Order of the Phoenix,
Miss Hermione Granger. Class ‘A’ Occlumens, and possesses the Magic of Divinity- our
trump card in the campaign against Voldemort and his followers. Specialist in metaphysical
healing and sensory spells. Please, everyone, listen carefully to what I have to say.”
Dumbledore took another deep breath and stood up in his chair.

“It has been happening before our very eyes, yet we were blind to it. The situation is grave,
but we still have some time, hope is not yet lost. My old friend, Randalf Ravenclaw-“ there
was an audible gasp around the room- “Yes, as in the ‘Ravenclaw’- has brought before us
very dire news. Please, Randy, show them the orb of prophecy.” Randalf Ravenclaw rose to
his full height and took out a small orb filled with swirling mist and placed it on the center of
the table. Even though it was round, it did not move a millimeter, sitting there as solid as a
rock. Drawing his wand, he moved his lips fractionally, and it transfigured itself into an
ancient-looking walking staff. He rapped the orb softly with the Staff of Knowledge.

The orb’s mist began to swirl faster, then emitted a soft light. A figure of an old hag in rags
appeared over the table, and everyone drew silent as she began to speak.

You, the heir of Rowenna Ravenclaw, have shown the potential to be one of the four
chosen. On precisely this day- I have been cursed to die- but not before the prophecy of
millennia must be revealed.

It has been foretold that once the two greatest of allies- yet now the most vicious of
nemesis: Gryffindor and Slytherin, will reunite as brothers in arms on the field of blood and
sand. Secrets of hidden lineage will be exposed, and the Goddess of Nature shall be raped
of her bounty, bringing forth once again those who call upon the Earth, Air, Fire and Water
as their allies. Out of the ashes, a Phoenix will re-awaken, and will shine the torch of light
through the darkness. Do not shy away his words, Randalf the Wise, for only the heirs of
Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff could prevent the Second Fall of the age of wizards. From all
corners of the globe there will be four signs- The Life Giving Circle, The Staff of Knowledge,
The Sword of Death, and finally – The Reign of Fire.

I will give you some help, Randalf. No matter how dire or how important the situation, you
are not to engage yourself in wizarding matters until the true time has come. Future
generations of our kind will cease to exist if you are fallen before your time. You must live
as a secret until what I have told you comes to bear, and by then you will be already have
acquired the Staff of Knowledge, and will guide the wielder of the Halo of Life in her mission
against the Dark Sons of Magic. My time is no longer mine: Farewell….

At this, everyone except Albus, Remus, Randalf- and Ron, visibly paled. Hermione was the
first to voice her opinion.

“No…” she whispered, not believing it. For some reason, Ron knew all along that things were
not sitting well with Harry. He just wished Hermione didn’t have to find out about this the
hard way.

“I’m sorry, Hermione,” Dumbledore said softly. “But, that is why we are here. We want to
help them, and stop this oncoming disaster the prophecy warns us against. The Dark Sons
of Magic are Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter- two students of Hogwarts who once held
nothing but animosity and contempt for the other, now are sworn brothers on the
battlefield. Fate has drawn them towards the common goal, and now that they have learned
to harness and control their gifts- are now, tragically, very serious threats to our
community.
“Our intelligence has put together a plausible timeline of events ever since Harry’s sixteenth
birthday. I, on an old man’s unfounded faith in reading the ‘signs’, gave Harry the Sword of
Gryffindor to protect himself against Voldemort. That, I realize, was a dreadful mistake.
That weapon is definitely a Horcrux of the renowned Dark Wizard hunter; Solidus
Gryffindor. I would have never assumed that it was possible, as he was born without the gift
of magic, but he has somehow managed to immortalize himself in the weapon. We believe
now, that in times of mortal danger, a hidden piece of Solidus’ soul keeps Harry alive, even
on the brink of death. In these situations, he consumes a piece of Harry’s persona. That is
why we have seen a darker, more ruthless side to Harry, and sadly, is gaining ground over
the battle for his soul. The Sword of Gryffindor is the ‘Sword of Death’ mentioned in the
prophecy. There is no mistaking it. Harry himself has secretly realized this, and returned the
sword to me last year. I have hidden it so that no one else would be able to find it,”
Dumbledore said in a determined voice.

“However, in a direct contrast to Harry and his situation, young Miss Granger here wields
the Halo of Life- an ancient weapon created by Helga Hufflepuff herself. It disappeared in
the first Elven revolt, and thought lost forever. As Miss Granger so recently informed me,
this object cannot be found- it finds the host to harness it’s power. And as she had so
brilliantly displayed this past week- her Healing ability is magnified and effectively put to
use on all injuries sustained in London, without the adverse side effects. It just so happens
that you and Harry are romantically involved with each other as well, which puts a definite
twist in this situation-“

“I don’t think that’s relevant-“ Hermione interjected.

“Oh ho, but it is very relevant, Miss Granger. It is both and advantage and a disadvantage.
For only you have the ability to help him.”

“Me?”

“Yes. In a moment I will explain, but for now, please allow me to follow our course agenda,”
Dumbledore said. “ Draco Malfoy controls the Infernus. The magical ability he possesses is
not yet fully matured, but when it is, he will be very hard to contain. This is where it gets a
bit… problematic.” Dumbledore clasped his hands behind his back. “The Dark Lord has
gotten one up on us, again. Every time we think that it is over, it is only beginning. His
extensive research on extending life and the Blight dark magic is almost mind-boggling. In
that period of time where Draco Malfoy was under Voldemort’s Imperius curse, he has
managed to do something that is as of now, unheard of.”

“What is it, Professor?” Tonks asked, a bit scared now.

“He has created a Horcrux with a human being as the host. Whereas possession deals with
one host being in control over another, in Malfoy’s situation, he cannot be exorcised.
Voldemort is now part of him; a miniscule part however, but a part none the less. Even
though I have not personally sensed his presence in Draco when we dueled, the prophecy
seals all doubts I had before. Slytherin’s heir is still alive- but not in the literal sense.
Firenze told me at the beginning of the year that ‘the Bloodline of Slytherin is alive, but his
blood is not pure.’ I think that refers to Voldemort being inside of the Malfoy line- an ancient
bloodline with a deep heritage for turning to the Dark. Harry- on the other hand, has been
influence by the Sword, and fortunately, can be exorcised. That is why Randalf has agreed
to help us.”

Randalf Ravenclaw nodded, and took to his feet.

“I have come to realize that Potter is like a son to many of you-“ Randalf looked at most of
the adults present, “ a brother to you, Ron, and a hero to all of us who were terrorized by
the acts of Voldemort and his followers. However, the times have changed.

“What we have here is a choice. The welfare of many future generations will depend on
select individuals present at this meeting. I am going to lay the facts out plain and simple.
These two wizards are extremely dangerous, and have the potential to be the most powerful
magi since Giraux the Grand and Archimedes the Omnipotent of the seventh century. Harry
Potter can summon the Grim, and now the Snake God himself, Shalingini. Along with the
raw talent to execute the Ultima spell at only seventeen, he has a hidden talent that has
only been recognized recently by learned men by examining his father’s bloodline. Very
powerful, and probably the most dangerous magical gene there is- the Felix Omnimentia; or
in other words: the ‘Good Luck/ Bad Luck’ heritage charm.

“It is a mixture of extreme luck and excellent timing in dire situations, while on the other
hand, the ‘ying and yang’ effect of it is that terrible tragedy and death surrounds him. In
other words, this man is extremely hard to kill, and will win in ninety-seven out of a
hundred encounters with an opponent. However,” Randalf paused significantly- “ Those
close to him will suffer horrible fates. Miss Granger, only because of your Divine power over
the Life force have you been able to survive for so long. I implore you, do not stray too far
from the Halo of Life. Keep it with you always. Your life is constantly in peril when you are
near him, as we have seen by your near capture at the hands of the Death Eaters last
week.”

Hermione dipped her eyes, feeling her emotions swell up inside. Her heart was breaking,
but her courage was holding strong. She will find a way to save him!

“Draco Malfoy is a Slytherin, and prone to the Dark Arts. I need not say more. Our time is
short. We have until July the 31st to purge Solidus Gryffindor from Potter, and to make sure
that Draco Malfoy does not aspire to be the next so called ‘Dark Lord.’ I will do all in my
ability to aid our noble cause and help those two young men. But if we fail-“ he looked at
each and every one of them.

“I will personally stop both of them before it is too late.”

******************

“Harry- I’m home!” Rebecca announced, her arms packed with grocery bags as she fought
to take the key out of the door. She never had a guy in her place before. She hoped that
her cooking skills were as good as Tonks says it was. Fiddling with the keys to take it out of
the lock, she turned into her little flat, and hustled to put down the groceries on the table in
the foyer. Cooking sometimes really was a great way to relieve her stress; she just hoped
that he would like it…

Rebecca made her way into the sitting area, only to see a fully dressed Harry sitting at the
couch, his eyes boring hard into a piece of parchment that he was reading. A ministry owl
was sitting on the back of the sofa, hooting softly as it turned it’s brown head to stare
balefully at Rebecca. She stopped in her tracks, looking at that serious expression on
Harry’s face, and wearing the full gear of his ministry uniform.

“Harry?” she said softly, inching into the room. His dark hair was in it’s usual mess, covering
most of his forehead and making it difficult to look into his face. “What is it?”

Harry covered his eyes with his hand, and wiped the tears at the corner of his eyes. He
shouldn’t cry, he hated the man, but still- he was his family. And they were dwindling down
one by one.

“I’m sorry Rebecca, I’m afraid I can’t have dinner with you tonight,” Harry said solemnly.
“Something -…” he trailed off. “Fuck.” He cursed, placing the parchment down on the coffee
table. He stood up, and draped the ministry’s cloak over his shoulders, then the Mantle of
the Phoenix over that like a cape. “I have to go.”

“What? Wait- no- at least tell me what’s going on!” she begged, feeling her exuberance
slowly dissipate.

“From the news on this parchment, it seems that my uncle was just murdered by a wizard.
Because of my position, I was the first to be informed, which is a good thing,” Harry cursed
again, feeling a mixture of bewilderment and hatred boil inside.

“What!? No- do they know who did it?” She asked, determination etched into her features.

“According to this report, it was me.” He looked again at the parchment on the table. “This
is a warrant for my arrest.”

******************

Author's note: You like? Or don't like? Let me know! Thanks for reading!

Chapter 23: The Dawning of a New Era

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**CHAPTER 23: The Dawning of a New Era**

Jeremy Kingsley was in a tight situation. Dolores Umbridge, being part of the Wizengamot,
had immediately issued the warrant for Potter’s arrest. It had taken him all of his
considerable influence to keep it quiet for the moment. As breach of security on this matter
was severe enough to be considered an act of treason, there were only seven wizards who
knew of this very grave situation: Minister Sherry Diggory, himself, Dolores Umbridge,
Ministry Police officers Henry Vane and Jefferson McClain, Obliviator Specialist Fernando
Llewellyn and Prime Secretary Percy Weasley.

Seven individuals. This was teetering on the edge of a full-scale disaster. No one, and no
one was allowed to divulge this information. Until the facts were clear, this murder
investigation was to remain top secret. Dolores Umbridge was the stupid hag to have
mentioned informing the remaining ten members of the Wizengamot and even the Minister
of Muggle Relations: Scotland Heyman, who would then in turn obviously allow the scandal
to be spread to his side business: The Daily Prophet. Politicians: he didn’t trust them, not
one bit. Right now, the seven who knew of these latest developments were all present in
the Minister’s office, the sixth floor above ground in the Ministry of Magic. Everyone was
extremely tense, that owl had left almost an hour ago.

“This is an outrage!” Umbridge declared. “A murderer in the Ministry! If only Cornelius

heard of this, I daresay, never before have I seen such bad decision making, a
troublemaker the first time I saw him- that Potter! We should have sent our top Aurors for
him! What if he just runs away?”

Sherry Diggory scowled. Mr. Llewellyn cleared his throat. “And pray tell, Dolores, who would
you send to stop him? He is the commander of our Elite.”

“So are you telling me he is above the law?”

“Absolutely NOT!” Sherry Diggory declared. “But don’t make presumptions as yet, Dolores.
We cannot be certain from this evidence alone-“ she pointed at the frozen television screen-
“if that person is really Mr. Potter.” She took a deep breath, calming her nerves. Diggory
had to admit that the camcorder footage was quite incriminating. “Discretion is the better
part of valour. If I know him as I think I do, he will answer the summons and explain
himself. We have faith in him, right, Jeremy?” Jeremy Kingsley nodded but said nothing,
just merely stared at the blurry image on the screen. Mrs. Diggory pulled Percy aside to
have a private word.

“Percy," she hesitated for a moment. “I want Warshire and DeFontaine inside of this room,
preferably in invisibility cloaks. Do not tell them the details, all right?”

“No. That is not prudent,” advised Kingsley. His peculiar “Far Seeing” ability gave him a
quick insight to what was happening downstairs. Sherry froze, looking at him strangely.
Kingsley always had this “Knowing” expression on his face that she found quite disturbing.
“Their loyalty lies with Potter. If there is a need for security, we’ll need unbiased wizards to
handle this situation. However, getting security is the least of our concerns right now.”

“And why is that?” Diggory questioned.

“Potter is already here, and is not in a good mood. He is walking through the main hall as
we speak. And…” Kingsley paused, closing his eyes for a brief second, recalling his pre-
emptive memory.

“And what?” Sherry Diggory ventured.

“Dolores, I advise you to be careful what you say. Or better yet, don’t say anything at all,”
he added. “Other than that, everything should be fine.”

**********************

Harry stormed into the Ministry of magic, the receptionist not even getting a chance to ask
him where he was heading. Rebecca shadowed him, hastily trying to keep up. As he walked
through the inner corridors, an Auror who had accompanied him during the London
excursion, Joseph Ulfalusi, greeted him.
“Commander,” he said respectfully. “Glad you’re back.”

“Ulfalusi,” Harry nodded in return.

“I wanted to let you know I applied for a transfer into your division. I’m currently in the
second tier of the Elite training program. You’ll give a good word to Kingsley for me, eh?”
Joseph said cordially.

“I will,” Harry said. “You’re sure about wanting to join the S.T.A.R division?” he asked. All
these Aurors knew the type of danger his teammates get into, why would they want to join?

“Yes, sir!” Joseph said immediately. “Who wouldn’t want to? My comrades have also
applied, so the competition is high-“

“Er- okay…” Harry said, trying to get back to matters at hand. He had no time for idle
chitchat. “I have some business right now, I’ll look out for your results.”

“Thank you. Once again, good to have you back, commander. Lestrange,” he nodded at her
in acknowledgement, and walked off. Harry watched him go, then shook his head in
amusement.

“Told you,” Rebecca said knowingly as they went towards the inner elevator. “ These guys
here really respect you now, that day in London has the whole Ministry fired up. Expect
some serious ass kissing in the next couple of weeks-“ she said grimly. Harry said nothing.
They entered the elevator, and the doors closed behind them.

“Good evening, welcome to the ministry of magic. Please state your destination floor,” said
the building’s soft female voice.

Nerves began to gnaw at him all of a sudden, his stomach feeling queasy as he stared at
the blank metal doors, watching his diffused reflection in the shiny metal. All he saw was
the bulky outline of a hooded figure, and a glinting piece of metal against his chest.
Standing on his right, Rebecca Lestrange’s reflection was smaller; the female proportions of
her slim figure a direct contrast to the two heavy layers of cloaks he wore. The first thought
that came to his mind as he looked at the reflection was that of one of a Lord with his Lady
at his side-

“Harry?” Rebecca said, bringing him out of his thoughts. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Harry cleared his throat. “Minister of Magic’s office, level six.”

“Please state your name and clearance code for direct access.” Harry was getting more
irritated by the second. He didn’t know why, but this voice was beginning to annoy him.

“S.T.A.R. Elite Commander Potter, Class 2 clearance. Code 5-5-6-7-9-3,” he rattled off
automatically, nerves twisting in his stomach even more.

“Good Evening, Commander. Access granted.”

“Can we get this elevator moving now?” he asked irritably, running his hands through his
hair.

“Harry, it’s going to be okay, trust me. I’m your alibi, I’ll prove to them that it wasn’t you,”
Rebecca said, putting her hand on his elbow. Harry said nothing, but glanced once at her.
He was glad she came along. Without him consciously knowing it, her support did make him
feel better.

“I guess. Er… thanks for coming, Rebecca,” he admitted. She smiled, but did not respond.
The elevator ride came to a smooth halt, and Harry exited unto the top floor. The main
lobby to the Minister’s office was empty except for the two guards at the door to Mrs.
Diggory’s office.

“Commander,” one of them greeted. “This is a surprise. How fares it?”

“Fine,” Harry grumbled, eyeing them as he walked forward. To his surprise, the same man
who welcomed him put his arm out, blocking his passage. Harry paused, looking at this
obstruction incredulously. For reasons unknown, that gesture got him very angry.

“Weapons, please,” the guard said cordially, not seeing his teammate’s aghast expression.
Harry looked directly into the guard’s face, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

“What did you say?” Harry asked, his temper rising almost to boiling point. He turned to
face the man directly. “Let me pass,” he ordered, his tone deadly soft.

The other guard hastily stepped across and took his mate a bit to the side. “Ho ho- don’t
mind him commander, he’s just playing. Kind of a running joke around here…” he said in a
hasty apology. “Please-“ he indicated to the door further ahead. ”Go ahead.”

“B-b-but,” the other man stammered as Harry and Rebecca walked past. He got an elbow in
his ribs to keep quiet and had to stow away any sort of comeback. “Hey! What the hell?” he
complained as soon as the two members of the Elite entered the office and were out of
earshot.

“Are you crazy?” his comrade hissed. “You don’t want to get on his bad side, believe me.”

“Oh… and why not? I’m not afraid of him!”

“Can’t you see what’s happening? The way things are going, it’ll be better if we remained in
his good graces. You never know what may happen in the future.”

“You’re delusional,” his mate said angrily.

“Whatever. Let’s just say you owe me one…”

**************

“Good evening Commander, Agent Lestrange.” Mrs. Diggory said in a practiced, even tone.
“Please, have a seat.”

“Madame Minister,” Harry responded. Rebecca muttered a soft ‘good evening’, and both of
them took seats in front of the Minister’s desk. Harry surveyed everyone in the room, his
eyes resting for a moment on Dolores Umbridge, who had on the same repulsive sweet
smile he hated when they were in detention. “You!” he hissed. “What are you doing here?”
Harry demanded.
“And good evening to you as well, Harry,” Umbridge replied in a tone reserved for pre-
teenagers. “I trust that you will be hem hem- accommodating us by answering the few
questions we have for you?”

“You have some nerve,” Harry uttered, tensing his right hand, which still bore faint lines of
his scarring he received a few years back.

“Commander, please, the matters at hand,” Mrs Diggory intruded. “Without further ado, I
would like to show you a video recording taken from a young man living on number 15,
Privet Drive. Only afterwards, will we ask questions.”

“It was caught on tape?” Rebecca blurted.

“Yes. Our obliviator on duty, Mr. Llewlyn here, has already dealt with the boy’s memory.
However, after we have finished viewing the footage, only then I will explain in detail the
Ministry’s procedure in such an occurrence. Your mere presence here reassures us that you
have nothing to hide, and for that alone, I am relieved. Harry, I want to stress that we are
on your side, but this is something we must do.” Mrs Diggory pressed the “play” button on
the video player. The television flickered twice, and then the footage began to roll. First, it
was focused on a bike stunt that another young man was attempting. Suddenly, there was a
scream coming from off-screen. The camera swung to the left, and then dipped, ducking low
as the boy apparently hid behind a parked car, filming from behind cover of the vehicle’s
bonnet.

A young man was standing in the driveway opposite, his wand was pointed high at the bulky
figure, nearly four storeys in the sky. He was laughing raucously as Vernon Dursley
screamed and pleaded for his life. There was another person in the picture; Dudley Dursley
was trapped within the family vehicle. He pounded against the glass, but it was obvious he
could not get the vehicle to let him out. Some indecipherable words came out of the
assailants as Vernon rose higher and higher into the sky, his limbs flailing wildly in protest.
Without much more theatrics, the young wizard released the levitation spell, and Vernon
Dursley fell to his death with a sickening thud, a pool of blood rapidly spreading from his
smashed face. Dudley began to rock the car violently, trying to escape, his screams muted
inside of the vehicle. The stranger pointed his wand menacingly at him, but only threaten
the trapped boy. With a nudge of his foot to make sure his victim was dead, the unknown
wizard turned to walk out to the road, inadvertently giving the camera a good look at his
face.

Rebecca gasped audibly. There was no mistaking it. That was Harry’s face. A moment later,
there was a swirl of robes, and the murderer was gone. Sherry stopped the video, and the
whirring noise of the muggle device rewinding was the only sound that could be heard for a
very tense few seconds.

Harry was utterly stupefied. Who would go through all these lengths to frame him for a
murder? And without even realizing it, he knew that it had something to do with Rodulphus
Lestrange. He felt it deep down. Once again, an oppressive surge of guilt welled up inside,
because he knew that night at King’s Crown, he had Lestrange at his mercy, yet he let him
live. If only-

“Commander, your thoughts?” Madame Diggory probed after the ominous silence.

“That is not me. I did not kill Vernon Dursley- I swear!” Harry said clearly. There was a
definite feeling of those words slicing the tension in two, but an air of uneasiness and doubt
settled on the nine present like a heavy mist. Harry had to give it to Rodulphus for being a
worthy adversary. The Dark Arts, the tool of the enemy, created doubt and inner strife into
their victims. Inside, Harry cursed. His opponent was beating him at every turn, so he knew
he was dealing with a master. He swore to himself that he will find the culprit behind this.

“We believe you Harry. Thank you for putting aside our doubts, but for the record, I’ll need
to check your wand. Percy, Please ask Gemmeil for Mr. Potter’s wand-“

“Here,” Harry took it out, and offered it. There was another uneasy silence and Umbridge’s
eyes widened in amazement.

“He-he brought his wand inside of here? What if he did kill him? He could have killed us all!”
She shrieked in accusation. Harry laid his wand down carefully on the minister’s desk, and
looked at her, his eyes boring into hers.

And, I daresay, you would be the first, Professor Umbridge… Harry thought, all of his
animosity focused on her beady little eyes.

Umbridge paled. “Did- you…did you hear...He threatened me! I heard him! He threatened to
kill me!”

Everybody else looked at her as if she went mad. “Dolores, Potter hasn’t said a word. Are
you ill?” Kingsley asked. There were murmurs of concern from the others as well, but
Umbridge shook her head in horror, staring at Harry as if he were a monster. Her face
turned even paler and she took a frightful step back.

“I think she isn’t feeling well, sir. Maybe she needs attention?” Harry offered, not even
looking at Umbridge. Rebecca fidgeted in the seat next to him, watching Harry closely. How
could he be so…so…nonchalant about this? They had footage of him killing his uncle!

“Percy please escort her downstairs. I’ll inform you later Dolores on the results of this
investigation, so please, I think you need a pick-me-up potion; Percy, check second floor.”
Percy took Umbridge by the elbow and guided her out the door, Umbridge mumbling words
to the tune of “Don’t let him…He’ll do us all in…” as she allowed herself to be taken away.
Sherry Diggory watched her leave warily, and when the door closed behind her, she took up
Harry’s wand.

”Priori Incantetem!”she commanded, and to everyone’s horror, the paperweight on her table
began to slowly rise off the surface. Harry’s heart skipped a beat as everyone watched the
small replica of Madame Maxine’s carriage float nearly a foot off the tabletop. This, the proof
that the last spell he used was the Levitation Charm was damning evidence.

“Wait! I know what everyone is thinking!” Rebecca said immediately, “But you have to
believe him, I was there the whole time! Harry couldn’t have possibly killed his uncle!”

“Rebecca-“ Harry began.

“Do not tell untruths. You left your home for approximately half an hour during the time of
this recording. You were not there the whole time, Agent Lestrange,” Diggory said icily. “We
had twenty four hour security at your home as the Commander was in a vulnerable state.
We do not take matters of security for Ministry personnel lightly. Explain yourself, Potter,”
Diggory commanded.
“Look at the tape again. I think I saw a clue that would lead us to the true murderer,” Harry
said, his brain working furiously. He could be in serious trouble…

“Do not dodge the question, Potter, we have –“ Diggory continued.

“The evidence is very damning, I know. But before you accuse me of this murder, I think we
should look at the cassette again. Er- when the murderer threatens Dudley in the car.”
Sherry said nothing, but played over the tape once again, quickly fast forwarding to that
particular instant. Harry leaned forward in his chair, staring at the screen. “It zoomed into
focus on them at a peculiar point…wait- look! There it is! On his left ring finger- that is my
proof.” Sherry paused it, and all present looked a bit more carefully. It was not exactly a
complete pardon, but the fact that there was a very dominant wedding band on his left ring
finger was good sign. “Obviously our man was married, and forgot to take off his ring. Now
we can narrow down our search – instead of groping in the dark for this impersonator.”

“Potter, you will stay out of this one. I will conduct the investigations personally,“ Kingsley
said calmly. “It is ministry procedure for Aurors not to get involved in cases where the
deceased is their family. You will not, and I repeat- not get involved. Do I make myself
clear?” Kingsley asked. Harry was about to argue, but Rebecca put her hand on his forearm
in a warning gesture. Harry let out a breath to calm himself down, and nodded.

“Harry, are you okay?” Sherry asked him, genuinely concerned.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Sherry Diggory waited for more, but apparently, none was forthcoming. She frowned. Her
conscious began to gnaw at her incessantly now. Was it worth it? Was vengeance worth
this? Her eyes found his, and she was saddened to see that no sorrow lingered there.
Inside, she felt her heart breaking for him, but on the outside, her Ministry persona was as
professional as ever. There will be tragic losses in this war. But her ultimate objective
depended on this man. She needed Harry, and if he was the one doomed to bear the cross,
so be it.

“Commander, I am very pleased with your contribution to our long term objectives, and
never doubted you from the start. I apologize for the, er…’wording’ of the post, but it seems
that Dolores insisted she pen it herself. Your reputation and actions are irrefutable. Please,
do not let this be a main cause of worry. We will apprehend the culprit swiftly, and bring
him to justice.”

“What about my cousin?” Harry asked. Sherry shuffled a bit uneasily.

“Well, unfortunately we cannot alter such vivid and emotional memories right away, tricky
business, the delicate nature of this horrible act, but we have made sure that the muggle
authorities are treating it as a suicide. Your cousin’s basic needs will be taken care of, but
right now, we cannot do anything about his emotional situation. In maybe a few years , we
could attempt again to modify his thoughts, make the pain more tolerable to bear, we’ll find
a way.”

Harry cursed under his breath. As if Dudley needed something so horrible to hate Harry
more. Harry balled his fist, both his uncle and aunt dead by the hands of Death Eaters.
Instinctively, he knew it had to be Lestrange. The fact that he used a Levitation spell to kill
Uncle Vernon and Solidus using a Levitation spell at approximately the same time was the
uncanny work of intuitive mastery of the Dark Arts. It fitted the mould, unconceivable
coincidences; so obscure and so random, yet when tied together, almost cost him his
freedom. Such incredible bad luck would have turned out to be a huge disaster if he hadn’t
noticed the tiny glint of gold on his hand. If he didn’t see that, this was going to be the
biggest scandal the Wizarding world has seen in a very long time. Tomorrow’s Prophet
might have had a headline like this:

Azkaban escapees can expect their captor, Harry Potter; to join them in a few days. Details
inside!”

That would have been the best article on him yet.

“Very well. See to it that he is comfortable,” Harry said offhandedly, and Rebecca eyed him,
an incredulous look on her face. To her surprise, none of the prominent wizards here found
his words rude, or arrogant in any way. It was almost as if they expected him to say
something like that. “If necessary, contact me if I could assist in any way, Madame Minister.
If that’s all, I’ll be leaving,” Harry said, and got up. Without another word, he spun away
and headed to the exit, his wand jumping out of Diggory’s hand and zooming into his.

“Wait, Potter!” Sherry asked. “Will you be in attendance this weekend?” she invited.

“Er- I guess,” Harry said at the door. “Kingsley, Llewellyn, Officers, Madame Minister,” he
nodded. “Good evening to you all,” he said in farewell. “Rebecca?” he enquired. She got up,
and followed him out the door. Without even knowing it, Kingsley let out a pent up breath.
He had told that stupid hag to keep quiet! What in the world was she thinking?

“Llewllyn, grade two obliviation on Umbridge. Short-term modification of six hours, and
immediate Ministry dismissal. When she comes to, tell the Librarian she’ll have a new
employee come the morning. Nothing is to escape these walls, understood?”

“Right away, sir.”

“Good. You two, I’m assigning you to monitor the Dursley boy, round the clock. The muggle
police are not to have the slightest inkling that something is amiss. Alternate fourteen hour
shifts, the both of you. “

“Aye. Leave it to us.”

Kingsley nodded, watching the three men leave. He looked to his Commander-in-Chief.
“We’ve got to be careful. More precisely, you’ve got to be very, very careful. If he finds out
what you did to him at Lionheart…”

“I know. Do we have, er- is there anyone, well you know, if something happens and we
need somebody to bring him in...” He face paled. “Anyone at all?”

“No. Maybe Dumbledore...but for now, we don’t have anyone capable of forcefully
apprehending Potter. For now, he is winning the war for us. Hopefully, we can keep it that
way.” Kingsley said. “Even though he has the potential to turn, I trust him to be a generally
good person. Let us not dwell on what the future may hold.”

“Agreed,” Sherry said, watching the still image of Harry Potter looking down the length of
his wand at the muggle trapped within the car. It bore a frightening similarity to their
present predicament. Right now the ministry was in no position to bargain.

**************************

The birds were chirping merrily, singing welcoming songs to the new blossoms of spring. In
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, a lone magus was scouring through the School
Portfolio and Ministry Portfolio of a deceptively talented wizard. What he needed was focus.
At six minutes to eight, there was a knock on the door. The white haired wizard looked up
from behind the desk, and smiled grimly. He was early. That was a good sign. “Enter.”

“Mr. Ravenclaw? You asked for me?” Ron Weasley asked.

“Sorry to bother you on such a beautiful Saturday morning, but it is important. Today you
begin your training,” Randalf said calmly.

“Training?” Ron’s ears perked up. “Really? What are we going to do?” he said
enthusiastically.

“I will train you in the art of Sansferi. Do you know what that is?” Randalf asked, getting up
from behind his desk.

“No…” Ron murmured, idly fingering his wand. “Is it a type of spell?”

“Not exactly,” Randalf smiled grimly, “But it obviously uses magic, but, only certain types of
magic, and it is never a constant “practiced’ technique. It varies from person to person, a
constantly evolving skill for everyone who studies its methodologies; so naturally, we will be
working together in your training. You have information that I will need , and I have
information that you will need.” He conjured chalk, and began to write on the board. “I have
borrowed this class for the time being, but we will not be learning “Defence Against the
Dark Arts”. Sansferi , to put it simply, is the art of finding the weak points of your opponent,
and use it to defeat him, no matter the difference in skill level.”

“It’s aggressive magic then,” Ron said, instantly drawn in.

“Yes an no. The main emphasis is on strategy, and plotting. I will warn you, Mr. Weasley. I
will teach you techniques that I admit are deeply rooted in the Dark arts, but however,
these spells are used in conjunction with others to produce a decisive wining strategy, and
not to be used indiscriminately. I trust you have the right sensibility to know when it is
appropriate, correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Very good. Well, the first aspect of Sansferi is believing in your strengths. Tell me the first
thing that comes to mind. What is it you are good at-“

“Chess!” Ron answered immediately.

“Exactly. I have heard you beat Dumbledore’s board when you were only eleven. Quite a
feat, I must add. Each piece has a significant importance, some more than others. You know
how the pieces move, and what are their weakness and strengths, and what ultimately what
you will sacrifice in order to achieve the goal. We will use that aspect in your training. The
second aspect is knowing the enemy’s weaknesses.” There was a muted silence, and
Ravenclaw pointedly did not look at Ron. Ron felt the struggle building within, but did not
back down.

“I know his weaknesses.”

“Very good. And the third aspect is where the Dark Arts may come in- exploiting his
weaknesses. Now, please read this parchment. If you think that it is an unjust request, I will
not teach you, but I implore you, do this for those that you care about.”

Ron approached the desk warily, and unfurled the scroll Ravenclaw handed over to him.

I understand that the mission I embark on is not for selfish desires; neither fame nor glory.
The Sansferi Dueling technique would be taught to no other until I have completed my
mission, and only then can I pass down the knowledge of these techniques. From master to
apprentice, there can be no more than two individuals who know of the practices of the
Noble house of Raphael De Rossi Ravenclaw. On this day, I swear to ultimately use these
skills only when the lives of many outweigh the life of one, and I will not stop until victory is
mine.

By signing this, I declare that though I may fall on the battlefield, I will not rest until Justice
is met.

_________________

“Once the heart is pure, and the reasons noble, this technique ensures victory, Ronald. You
need not sign this contract as yet. I am just letting you know that once the basics are in, I
will train you to be a very powerful magi. The signing of this agreement will be your final
test. It means dedicating your life so that one day, you will take another as I have done - to
be your student. It is not easy, I warn you, the burden of keeping this ancient art alive,” he
added, taking back the scroll. “But a certain binding must be done before I may begin. If in
due course you do not grasp these hidden arts, this spell will erase all memory of your
teachings.” Ravenclaw tapped his wand on the scroll, then tapped it on each of Ron’s
shoulders. After it was done, Ron felt a strange feeling of his ears blocking up with a low
pressure, then was gone. “So, shall we?”

Ron gulped. “Oh, er...I guess.”

“Excellent! Draw your wand,” Randalf said majestically. “I am going to evaluate how much
you know, and henceforth, how much potential you have.” He drew his own wand from
inside his robes, waving it once in a sweeping gesture. The furniture of the classroom
immediately vanished. “Well? Come at me with all you got. En garde!”

*****************

Hermione was in Professor Dumbledore’s office also training, but in completely different
type of session altogether. What she was trying to do was to penetrate Dumbledore’s
mental defences. Compared to how easily she could go into Harry’s head, Dumbledore was
impossible to break down.
“I can’t!” She said in defeat after her head began pounding with the effort. She was weary,
mentally and physically. “I don’t know how you do it Professor- this is too much!”

“I understand, Hermione. Why I am pushing you so hard is because Solidus would also do
everything in his ability to keep a body, including attack you. Harry is quite formidable, and
any sort of lapse in control on his part could be fatal for you. What I have come to realize
however, that the very core of his magic is Defense Against the Dark Arts. His repertoire of
magic is limited, but what he does know he applies expertly, giving him a very large
advantage in a duel. Attacking someone’s mind is basically a Dark Art, however we may try
to cover it up.”

“But Harry allows me into his thoughts, he trusts me!”

“I know he does. But unfortunately, I doubt it would be so easy.” Dumbledore sat down,
and steeped his fingers under his nose, peering at her over the half moon glasses, that he
had to admit, made no sense wearing ever since he was resurrected to a younger self
nearly two years ago. “However, as I said before, the fact that you two are romantically
involved is both an advantage and disadvantage. I do not wish to insinuate such sordid
conversations, but it cannot be helped. Do you know what Siren’s Curse is?”

“I read about it in passing, but as to how it works, no, I do not know the exact
fundamentals...” Hermione said grudgingly.

“The Sirens innate magical ability is rooted in the forbidden branch of L’amore de homme,
or to roughly translate, the Lust of Man. A man’s sexual needs is quite a dominant force in
the nature of things, and all magic targeting that aspect of human sexuality was outlawed
many years ago. To cover their magical ability, the forerunners of the “Sirens” as we know
them now hid their enchantments in their song and dance, generating pleasure for men
while filling their pockets with their gold. Over time, gold no longer was as precious to them,
so they wanted more. It evolved into capturing the undivided attention of their patrons,
then to their bodies, then to their love, and finally, now, to their soul.”

Dumbledore cleared his throat. Even he, an experienced wizard, felt highly uneasy talking
so candidly to his student. But for some reason, he knew that facing the Boy Who Lived in a
direct confrontation (even though it was not in the physical sense) would only complicate
matters for Hermione, and she would likely fail. She was not good enough to forcefully rip
out Solidus’ essence, and even if she did there was a high probability she may inadvertently
kill Harry. He waved his wand, and a slight dusty book dropped unto his desk, moaning
seductively in pleasurable pain.

“Please, read this book about the curse. It will give you some insight to the intricacies tied
between the body and soul.”

“All right, I’ll read it as soon as I get back.”

“Oh, and Miss Granger, a hint, there is always more than one way to skin a cat. If you need
more explanation, please confer with Madame Pompfrey. It would be best if you asked her
questions, it would not be proper for me to discuss it with you.”

Hermione took the book, bade the Professor good day, and exited out the door. On her
descent down the spiral staircase, she looked at the cover of the book. At first, she did not
believe it. Underneath a bold title written in Greek symbols was beautifully painted artwork
of a couple in the throes of sexual passion, the woman’s legs wrapped around the man’s
lower body. Slightly blushing, she shoved the book in her bag, and made her way to the
dormitories. When she reached inside the confines of the girls’
seventh year bedrooms, she took out the book and began to read. After pouring through
almost nine chapters discussing many different types of Love potions, spells, enchantments,
hexes, charms, aphrodisiacs and wistful romantic theories, she finally reached the chapter
labeled “Forbidden Curses” and under that, “Siren’s Curse.”

‘It is known during the climax of sexual release, a man’s soul is most vulnerable. In that
moment of ecstasy, it was believed that Sirens found it is possible to delve in and “Possess
him completely,” which in a literal sense, is to rip his soul out of his body, further enhancing
their own beauty and youthful appearance. As we know, a wizard’s most valuable
possession is his soul. Due to the fact that the passing away of the body is not final to those
gifted enough to prolong Life after Death, the importance of keeping one’s soul far
outweighs the value of their Life. Sirens have mastered the art of defeating even the most
powerful magi by simply seducing them, and are henceforth regarded as the most
dangerous witches alive. Their mere voice drives a sane man to stupor, and their touch
alone means instant seduction. Notoriously greedy, Sirens prefer victims with a high
capability for magic, and in return for their soul, will keep their captive in a state of constant
euphoria for at least twenty-four hours in continuous sexual intercourse before viciously
sucking out their soul. For more information, please refer to The Seductive Dark Arts by
Nora Leslie-Willow.

Hermione finished reading the chapter, and placed a bookmark to keep the page. Siren’s
curse did give her a vague idea, but to do what she thought she may have to do bordered
on delving deep into the Dark Arts. Hermione thought hard about what Dumbledore said.

There is always more than one way to skin a cat.

Trying her best to come up with a plan, she drifted off into a troubled afternoon sleep.

***********************

“Can’t fucking stand it…” mumbled a low voice. The owner of the voice was sitting in his
luxurious study, reading the reports from the S.T.A.R. logbook. He wasn’t supposed to have
access to this, but he did not fear the others, or being removed from his position. He made
a duplicate, and was now pouring through the relatively new pages of the Auror Division’s
Specialists unit.

“What are you ‘arping about now?” Fleur Delacour said, bringing him the Bourbon he
requested on an elegant serving tray made out of pure crystal. She placed it down on the
low coffee table in front of them, and then made herself comfortable on the love seat,
curling up next to Draco Malfoy. “Iz somesing wrong?”

Draco allowed her to pull at his growing beard, teasingly running a finger down the centre of
his chin. He glanced down at her, this woman who had somehow found a way into his life,
and surprisingly, gave him a sense of balance. He was destined to become the strongest.
But, by reading these reports, the only thing he felt was shame.

“Defeated. Defeated, defeated! I hate this! Every time my name is mentioned in this book,
it always is followed by ‘was defeated’! Am I fucking weakling?” Draco snapped at himself,
throwing down the log book unto the ground. He stretched forward to take his drink,
making Fleur sit up momentarily. “Defeated at the hands of Order, then defeated by Potter,
then defeated by Mulciber, now Macnair- it’s fucking embarrassing! Potter waves his wand
and wipes out a dragon- while I look like a complete moron!”

“Draco, I heard you were quite brave, you rescued miss Hermy-one! You’re a hero!’

“All I seem to be is his fucking sidekick! ‘Draco do this, Draco do that.’ Fuck him! I am part
of the E.L.I.T.E. too!”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself my luv, you’ll always be my hero,” Fleur said, kissing him
sweetly on his lips. Draco calmed down immediately, and smiled down at her. He looked
into her eyes, and, as if seeing her for the first time, a light dawned in his eyes.

“Do you love me?” he asked suddenly. Fleur looked at him strangely. She took a few
seconds, but she did answer him honestly.

“ I do.”

“Do you trust me?” Draco asked her now, staring into those gorgeous eyes. She nodded,
her eyes searching his as well.

“Yes, Draco, I trust you with my life.”

Deliberating for a few seconds, Draco smiled, not one of genuine happiness, but closer to a
smile of triumphant; finding the piece to a puzzle he was trying to solve. This woman
somehow complimented his persona, making him stronger, more in control. His every need
she could fulfil, and her information gathering ability was par none. And to top it off, he
grew more addicted to her every time they were apart. Without further ado, he got up from
the sofa, his future materializing right before his eyes. Fleur Delacour was necessary. So
was his younger sister, but she was not yet of age. Both were the final pieces of his initial
puzzle, but for completely different reasons. This was the moment.

Taking her hand in his, he concentrated hard, and a small cupboard in his room opened,
and a tiny box came zooming through the corridors and hallways, descending the wide
curved staircase and darting around the extravagant furnishings to zoom into his waiting
palm. This was right. He needed to do this. Opening the little box, he pulled out an exquisite
diamond ring. Fleur’s eyes widened in anticipation, was he really…?

Draco Malfoy bowed down to one knee. Fleur began to cry tears of happiness. Little did she
know that the young man of eighteen years was embarking on a quest. A quest for
greatness.

“Fleur, will you become my wife?”

His head was bowed, and he did not look at her in her eye. He stared resolutely at the
ground, feeling that this was what he needed to do to become complete. This was the
advantage Potter had over him.

“Yes! Oui! Yes yes! I will!” came her voice, shrilly with excitement. Draco did not find joy in
knowing that she was to become his bride. He felt a sense of triumph in his finding the
missing element that he needed to succeed. A cruel mockery of sorts, he did not bow to
honour his fiancé; in his vision, he was being Knighted of his new status. Young and
talented, these women he brought about him would be his lieutenants. Anne- the Siren,
Jacqueline- the Torrentia Summoner, Fluer- the Seductress, and his younger sister, Kenna-
the Enchantress…

These would be his first followers. He could amass armies with these talented witches at his
side. Men will either join in his ambition, or perish at his hands. These women have proven
they can assume control over any man they encounter. No one will be able to resist. Seeing
his vision of the future becoming clearer by the second, he stood to his feet, smiling warmly
at his new acquisition. He took her in a hug, her tears wet against the side of his face. His
eyes glared red as the Infernus felt his confidence grow, his mission now starting to
materialise in the right direction. Scooping his fiancé up in his arms, he carried her to the
master bedroom upstairs, where he ravaged her with a passion he never felt before, almost
on the verge of being barbaric in his ferocity. After they were exhausted form their rough
lovemaking and Fleur was contentedly asleep in his arms, a voice spoke to him, almost as
clear as if the Dark Lord Voldemort himself was whispering directly in his ear.

‘You are wrong, Master Malfoy. There has been one man who has encountered all of your
five, and all of them have tried, each in their own peculiar way, to defeat him. One man,
who has thwarted you since you can remember, has thrown aside all attempts of these
women to bring him to his knees. You have missed a very important detail, my young
apprentice. Harry Potter is more powerful than you think. You disappoint me, Master
Malfoy. A Gryffindor taking the title of what is rightfully ours?

You will not be revered as a Dark Lord once he is alive. Do not fail me Draco… I have
helped, you, I have shown you the way.’

And with that, Draco bolted awake, sweat running down his face. He took a few deep
breaths to calm himself down. Reaching over his new fiance’s naked body, he turned the
amp on to look at the miniature grandfather clock she used on her bedside table. It read
8:42. Getting out of bed, he donned his bedrobe, tying it around his waist. He washed his
face in the neighbouring bathroom to eradicate that clammy feeling he got on his skin
whenever Voldemort spoke to him. Drying his unblemished face, he returned into the
bedroom and arrogantly squeezed Fleur’s exposed breast.

“Hmmm?” she said groggily, opening her eyes slightly. She almost screamed. With the light
pouring out the bathroom behind him creating deep shadows on his face, she saw only two
faint red pupils staring down at her, terrifying her so much that her heart nearly skipped a
beat. Blinking a few times, she discarded it as only a part of her imagination.

“Wake up. We are going out tonight.”

********************

Rebecca had to admit she was feeling excited. She couldn’t remember the last time she
dressed up, or even felt like dressing up. But tonight was a good night as any to go all out.
He said he would be here in a little while, and when two minutes past nine reached and he
wasn’t here as yet she began to worry, even though he did say he was coming for around
nine. At exactly six minutes and fourteen seconds past nine, there was a knock on her door.
Composing herself and looking in the mirror one last time, she was satisfied that she had
did her best and was tastefully appropriate for the occasion. Clearing her throat quietly to
make sure she didn’t sound to obvious when she greeted him, she made her way out of her
bedroom, down the hall, a left by the laundry area, a right by her study, through the
kitchen/dining area, past her small lounge and opened the door. Her breath caught.

“Good night,” Harry said easily. “Er- ready?”

“Hi…um yes,” she said, a bit caught off guard. Harry’s outfit was not one she thought he
would look good in, but to his credit, he fitted the mould perfectly. Dressed in a dashing
suit, Rebecca knew that it was most probably handcrafted in the finest magi’s robes from
Kurst’s in Bulgaria. Hanging in the crook of his arm, folded in two, was his father’s cloak,
looking clean and in immaculate condition. “You look ...nice,” she commented, feeling like a
silly little girl, which (she mused) she was feeling ever since he dropped her back home
after the visit to the Ministry of magic. Four days and a half later, she somehow felt
disappointed that he didn’t call, or write to her since. What was he doing all this while?

Harry smiled. She was absolutely gorgeous in a deep purple witches’ robe that
complimented her dark hair and exotic deep blue eyes, almost on the verge of purple
themselves. It hugged her curves and the wrap around her elbows was classy and made
one’s mind wonder in curiosity to glimpse the fine expanse of her uncovered back. Inwardly,
he sighed. He just didn’t want to be the focus of attention tonight. Now with Rebecca as his
escort, it was inevitable that he would be smack dab in the center of it.

“You look, er…nice too. Come on, let’s get this over with,” he said, and Rebecca felt a bit
disheartened. Obviously he wasn’t looking forward to this as she did. She locked the door
behind her and both of them went into the small elevator on her apartment building. Inside
the elevator Harry once again noticed their reflection, and dipped his eyes.

It’s a work outing. Don’t look at it too seriously… he told himself, finally getting the courage
to look back the shiny surface of the elevator doors. Even though he ran that mantra
through his head, he couldn’t deny that he was a man, and she was a beautiful woman. It
was hard keeping his thoughts in line.

Lord Potter and Lady Lestrange…

No matter how hard the tried, the constant rumours kept dragging him back to think about
the image of the reflection in the elevator a few days ago. That day, he was fully geared
-and in a way, ready to duel for his life. Now he was dressed to go out and socialize, yet still
he felt that tonight would also be a battle, a battle of yet another sort, yet a battle
nonetheless.

As they stepped into the cool spring night, he thought to himself: What would be his
challenge tonight?

“Where’s our transportation?” Rebecca asked, bewildered.

“I taxid here. But however, we’ll go in a more – well, efficient fashion. You ready?” Harry
asked lazily.

“What, how? The apparation field-”

“Don’t mind that. I pulled some strings. Ah- exactly 9:15,” he mused, checking his watch.
Right on time. “Here we go,” he said, and took her close, his hands resting lightly on her
waist. She panicked, wanting to know what was he going to do, when the next thing she
knew, they were on the bottom of a flight of wide steps leading to a classic art gallery.
There were elegantly dressed wizards, mostly couples, heading up the steps, chatting and
greeting other familiar faces as soft ballroom music floated down the smooth steps. Only a
few heads turned at their sudden appearance, a couple so distracted with each other that
they almost walked right into them. At the last possible second Harry stepped in closer to
Rebecca and she took one step backwards as the couple walked steadily on. The man’s head
was bent low, listening to his companion’s urgent whisperings , not even realizing that two
people had just appeared out of nowhere right in their path. Rebecca found herself in very
close proximity with Harry until he stepped away from her and began to ascend the steps.
Regaining her composure she hastened up behind him, hissing in his ear.

“How did you do that? No one’s supposed to be able to get through,” she admonished.

“I pulled a few strings at the M.A.R.S. division, got myself a two minute opening. Come on,”
he said offhandedly, not breaking stride. Rebecca frowned. Potter had the M.A.R.S. division
breaking strict ministry rules for his convenience? What was going on here? She was about
to question him again when they entered the main hall, the doorman looking up intently at
them as Harry whispered their names. His eyes flickered once between the both of them in
recognition and a wide grin broke out on his heavily lined face. Turning to face inwards, he
lifted his hand towards the live band. They dipped their music and everybody turned
towards the door to see what was the cause of this interruption.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, our guest of honour; Lord Potter, and his escort- the beautiful Lady
Lestrange has arrived! Please, let the fun begin!” the doorman said robustly, making Harry’s
insides squirm in embarrassment. There were a few flashes of camera lights, and many
patrons began to whisper in urgent voices. Harry half-heartedly acknowledged the
grandiose introduction and hastily dragged Rebecca away from the main entrance, finding it
easier to disappear into the crowd by the cocktail bar.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Lord Potter. Moving on up are we?” came a voice behind him.
“And with Miss Rebecca to boot.”

Harry calmly took a sip of his drink, letting the person stew a while before he responded. He
turned slowly, watching Draco Malfoy directly in the eye. “Malfoy. Pleasant, as usual.”

“Lady Rebecca,” Draco smirked, bowing slightly. “It sounds so noble does it?” he said
sarcastically.

“Malfoy, your charm is unparalleled,” she responded in a mock tone.

“Why thank you. Potter, as you’re here, I’d like you to be first to know,” Draco said smugly,
drawing Fleur closer to his side. “I would like to officially introduce my new fiancé, Fleur
Delacour.” Fleur beamed at Harry and Rebecca her beauty radiating even more magic than
usual. The bartender suddenly dropped a glass behind the table, so dumbstruck that he was
still pouring the wine all over his hand. Harry looked at the couple closely, looking for a sign
of a trick. When he noticed the engagement ring on her finger, he looked back up at them,
genuinely shocked.

“You’re serious.” It wasn’t a question.

“Now tell me, why would I lie about something like that?” Draco said, quite amused by
Harry’s expression.
“Well, congratulations,” Harry said, instinctively offering his hand. Draco took it, and both
men shook hands for the first time. There was a moment where time stood still, both men
feeling each other’s strength by that otherwise routine gesture of camaraderie. A camera
flashed at them, and the tension vanished, both of them abruptly letting go. Harry cleared
his throat. “Well, this was a surprise.” Something about Draco was disturbing him….

“Yes. I think it is time I moved on to bigger, better things.”

“Oh?” Harry enquired.

“Just you wait, Potter, just you wait,” he smirked and gave a playful mock salute to Harry
and Rebecca as he and his fiancé sauntered off. Harry frowned, what was that last about?
What was going to happen?

“Pardon me m’lord, Madame Diggory wishes to have a word with you,” someone said on his
left. He turned, and remembered the same man who tried to stop him from entering her
office not even a few days earlier. Harry frowned again. Why was everyone addressing him
as ‘lord’? It was irritating.

“I’ll come over in a bit,” Harry dismissed him, not wanting to be anyone’s lap dog.

“Yes, m’lord,” the man said as he bowed and backed away. Harry swore under his breath.

“Hey, is that Sol and Steven?” Rebecca remarked, looking across the hall. The two men
were in conversation with each other, their respective wives chatting merrily, all of them
laughing with drinks in their hands. Steven spotted them, and both men took their better
halves to follow them across the ballroom floor. They came up to the cocktail bar and
offered their hands, greeting Harry warmly.

“Spot on, Cap’n! Looking sharp!” Sol laughed, clapping him on his shoulder. Steven grinned
in approval.

“Aye, both of you look like a good couple.” Before Harry could respond, Warshire introduced
him to his wife. “Cindy, Harry Potter. Harry, my wife, Cinderella ,” he said grinning. Cindy
took his hand and curtsied.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, m’lord.” Harry smiled but inwardly he was getting quite
annoyed. Again that phrase!

“Er- thanks. Nice meeting you too,” Harry said a bit too edgily. Sol DeFontaine was on his
other side, itching to introduce his wife as well.

“Sophia- Harry, Harry- Sophia. She’s American,” Sol added unnecessarily. Harry shook her
offered hand.

“ ‘Tis my pleasure, m’lord.” She curtsied as well. Harry raised an eyebrow. “Right nice to
meet royalty in these times. Sol told me a lot about you,” she said in a warm accent. “And
who is your beautiful wife?” She asked kindly, looking at Rebecca.

“I’m not his wife, but my name is Rebecca,” she corrected.

“Pretty name to go along with the face. It nice seeing young people here to liven things up a
little,” she winked at the both of them.

“Thank you, Sophia,” Rebecca said, trying not to laugh. Rebecca nudged Harry in his side.

“Yes, thank you,” Harry said, almost forgetting that she was addressing both of them. Harry
excused himself to go into the washroom, and tried as covertly as possible to avoid more
confrontations. After he had washed his hands, he felt a sudden wave of fatigue stepping
over him.

“They adore you, you know,” his voice said from behind him. Harry looked up immediately,
and in the mirror, was a reflection of himself, wearing his full Auror uniform and the Cloak
of the Order of the Phoenix. “How easy it would be to have them fawn over you, do your
bidding at your merest wish.” His reflection smiled back at him, coming closer so he could
se his face. He looked only a few years older, but there was a huge scar that ran down his
brow down to the muscle of his cheek.

“You aren’t real,” Harry said defiantly. “I can stop you.”

“How is that possible? I am you. You are me. Destiny cannot be denied.”

“You are not my destiny. I don’t know who you are. You’re just a shadow from days long
past.” Harry said, not even daring to turn around.

“A shadow, am I?” the reflection laughed. “Could a shadow do this?” There was a flash of a
blade, and all the stalls behind him broke along a ragged line. Harry froze, not believing his
eyes, but still, he dared not turn around. His hands began to shake, and sweat began to
pour down his face, his eyes dilating with the adrenaline rush preceding a battle.

“Oh, you wish to fight? That would be a lose-lose situation. I cannot defeat you, and you
cannot defeat me. We are the same.”

“YOU’RE A FIGMENT OF MY IMAGINATION!” Harry screamed, his eyes blazing alive, glowing
a pale blue in the mirror. As he did so, the reflection laughed, his eyes also glowing eerily.

“The ultimate power resides within you. This voice we both share, commands the
Grim. To those who hear it, death awaits. The Animagus Black settled a score with
the devil himself. Yes, he has crossed the barrier of the living, but a promise he
has made on your father’s grave lives on. Even beyond this world- he will protect
you. Do not deny destiny, neither do not forget who has gone before. I await the
day when you accept your fate, for that day- you will know true power.”

After that, Harry blacked out, and only when someone began pounding on the door did he
wake up from the bathroom floor.

“HEY, WHAT’S GOING ON IN THERE!“ came a muffled scream. “OPEN UP! DON’T LET ME
HAVE TO USE MY WAND!”

“Hang on...” Harry slurred, groggily getting to his feet. With a wave of his wand and a
murmuring of lips, all three doors began piecing themselves back together and was once
again as good as knew. The cracks in the concrete doorframe where the blade had
connected weren’t so easy to fix. Not having enough time to dwell on that, he quickly
checked himself in the mirror for any thing out of the ordinary. Stepping to the door, he
unlocked it and ducked his face as the other man hastily dashed into the stall.
“Aaaaahhh...” he groaned in relief as Harry made a quick exit. “Holding that up since half
nine- damn, that cocktail is the shit!” he said aloud, but Harry was long gone. He made his
way through the crowd when the Minister of Magic spotted him. Having made eye contact,
he could try and evade her any more than he already had. She excused herself form her
conversation with Frederick Smethwyck and made her way towards him.

“Commander,” she greeted.

“Madame Minister,” Harry nodded.

“Come with me, I have two urgent matters to discuss with you.” She took him by the crook
of his elbow and made her way to a private tearoom off the main hall. Making sure no one
saw them, she closed the door behind her and used the privacy charm.

”Muffliato! Harry, things are a bit hectic. I needed to speak to you, privately.”

“I’m listening,” Harry said with an air of slight indifference.

“It was wise of you not to bring Miss Granger to this function. After seeing firsthand what
she could do, a lot of interest has been piqued in her abilities. Obviously, I would be ecstatic
if she joined Lionheart’s healer division on graduation-“ Harry frowned- “No, wait- don’t get
the wrong idea, I know that would not be prudent. Her Divine Summoning technique is very
rare, and from the whisperings going around, a bounty has been placed for the highest
bidder on her capture. Her excursion into London has put her even more in the spotlight. I
just wanted you to know firsthand that I am on your side, and her safety is a priority on my
agenda.”

“I’m glad you told me of this- it has been a serious problem for a while now… I have to find
a way to always keep an eye on her, it’s getting ridiculous these past few years…“ Harry
agreed, his anxiety stepping up a notch. Shit! He should have thought of that! Didn’t
Rebecca say she was almost a ‘celebrity’ in the ministry? Everyone now knows who she is!

“And two- there has been some more tragic news I’m afraid. The two guards on surveillance
of your cousin have been murdered a few hours ago, as well as Arabella Figg. Dudley
Dursley is nowhere to be found- and the worst part is-“

“There’s more?” Harry said, his mind reeling. Mrs. Figg- murdered? Who would do such a
thing?

“Yes- they were killed by muggle means, detonation of an explosive device. A bomb, Harry.
A bomb! We have a serial killer on the loose- three wizards in one night. I’m just telling you
to be careful. But for now, as Kingsley said, don’t get involved.” Harry shoved his hands in
his pants pockets.

“Did you find out who killed my uncle?”

“Well, to a point, but we are still waiting confirmation. Until proven otherwise, I can safely
say it was Rebecca’s brother: Rodulphus Lestrange.” Harry’s heart fell into his stomach. Not
again. Even though he had already guessed it to be him, hearing his suspicion confirmed
was even worse. This man was making his life a fucking nightmare!

“I want him dead, you hear me?” Harry growled, his face contorting in fury. Diggory paled
as she saw the eerie glow in his eyes. She turned away immediately, not able to maintain
eye contact with him for too long. What in the world?

“Who do you think we should send on this mission?” Diggory asked a bit hesitantly.

“We need someone who knows him to handle it-“ Harry said with determination. “Someone
who knows him more intimately, our intelligence bureau can’t figure him out, neither can I,”
Harry cursed again, not even caring he was talking to the most powerful figurehead in the
Ministry.

“So, Agent Lestrange then?” Diggory offered. Harry thought a second, then shook his head
in a firm denial.

“No. We need another Slytherin, another like him. Someone who also knows how his brain
works. Send Malfoy, I believe he is capable to make sure Lestrange is brought to justice.
Imprisonment won’t work on him. Malfoy’s mission is to be given Code black status-
Assassination with no remains. We can’t risk any sort of Necromancy either, I wouldn’t put
it past him.”

“Yes yes…Malfoy does seem to be eager to prove himself, doesn’t he? I’ll get on it right
away, Potter,” Diggory said.

“Wait- Madame Minister- this is between the three of us- do not tell Malfoy I sent the
request. Understood?” Harry stated. Sherry looked at him strangely, but did not object. She
nodded, and left the room. Harry took a few minutes to regain his composure. Masking his
features, he left the darkness of the private viewing room. Making his way back to the
ballroom floor, he spotted Rebecca standing by herself, exactly where he left her almost
twenty minutes ago. Her face brightened as she saw him approach.

“What took you so long?” she asked.

“Nothing- just a little problem came up that the Minister wanted dealt with,” he said
casually. The ballroom floor was congested with couples Waltzing. Dismissing Lestrange as a
dead man already, he smiled at her. “Lady Rebecca, may I have this dance?” he asked,
bowing gallantly as he took her hand. She stepped into the circle of his arm, putting her
fingers lightly on his shoulder. Without further ado, he swept her off her feet and seamlessly
entered the fray. Even though he was laughing at her witty comments and completely
enjoying the dance; there was one thing at the forefront of his mind.

If Malfoy should fail, he did not care what rules the Ministry had imposed on him, he will
hunt down Lestrange and finish this once and for all, even if it took him the rest of his life.

***************************

Author's note: Whew! Long! This was pretty hard for me to write, because I had to show
the transition of the main characters. Up till now, both young heroes were being controlled
by the cards that were dealt, whereas now they're slowly, but surely becoming the players
in this new movement of young and upcoming wizards. I hope it came across in a believable
fashion. Thanks for your patience, it was along wait, but this chapter wasn't easy. Hope you
I liked it, if not- I still would like you to review! Later!
Chapter 24: Lead Us Not Astray...
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** CHAPTER 24: Lead Us Not Astray...**

A bounty on my girlfriend…what next?

Harry Potter was sifting through the reports in the S.T.A.R. Elite ‘office’, if it could be called
that. This was the place he met Sol and the others, the very same office he unwittingly set
afire when Malfoy joined a few months later. The paint still bore soot marks where the
damage was not totally repaired by Draco’s Infernus Counter- spell.

All this paperwork….

Harry could not concentrate properly while reading these days. English text was somehow
now hard to read, as if his vocabulary and grammar usage was slipping from him little by
little every day. For that reason alone, he spoke rarely, and only when he had to. Nearly a
month had passed since the Ministry function celebrating the first anniversary of the new
minister of magic. In her speech she said one of the best decisions she had made was to
recall the services of Alastor Moody’s squad: the Special Tactics And Rescue Elitist division;
Combat Specialist Sol DeFontaine, Interrogation Specialist Steven Warshire, Secret
Operative Rebecca Lestrange, the Summoner Draco Malfoy, and himself- the so-called
‘Commander’.

Harry cursed in frustration. Right now he was having several doubts about his position, and
if he really was the right man for the job. Seven wizards and two muggles were already
dead since he took the post around five months ago. And there was more. Luna Lovegood
abducted, Dudley Dursley missing and wanted in connection with the murder of Arabella
Figg as well as Ministry Police officers Henry Vane and Jefferson McLain. His uncle, alongside
his aunt, now murdered by that madman Rodulphus Lestrange- who has been very adept at
covering his tracks, except of course, the ones he wanted them to find. Harry swore under
his breath, running his hands through his shoulder-length hair in frustration.

Abducting Luna right under their nose- it was more a slap in the face than anything else.
Immobilizing a ghost to relay the message, a very tongue in cheek way of showing that he
was proficient in extremely advanced Dark magic. The command of the realm of the
supernatural was very tricky business. If Rodulphus could manipulate ghosts, that meant he
knew how to command the lost spirits and maybe even the demons that lingered in the
limbo area between the physical and the spiritual.

Which was a bad thing.

And now Harry was kicking himself for bringing upon another very serious situation: good
and bad wizards alike wanted to use Hermione’s ability, be it to cure a sickly child or on the
completely opposite end of the scale, to perform Unholy Revival spells on the dead which
would give the deceased a temporary mockery of life- complete with a soul. And the worst
thing was, both parties were willing to pay anyone good enough to capture her.

After doing some investigation, he realized that Hermione had barely scraped her true
potential. As with anything else, there was a dark side to her branch of the summoning
ability. Case in point, when Macnair had stolen the Halo of life- they had used his mother’s
Divine Protection Charm from his aunt Petunia as a source of magic to resurrect Voldemort
from the dead. If they had gotten Hermione as they had originally planned- they would
have probably been able to do much worse than that, maybe resurrect Amagammon or
Grindelwald as well, or whoever was the reigning Dark Lord at times long past. Right now,
everyone wanted her for her healing abilities. He dreaded the day she left Hogwarts- she’ll
no longer have Dumbledore and the physical protection of the school to keep her safe. And
for some reason, every time they went out together, something bad happened to her. In
fact, horrible things happened to everyone who stuck around him too much, or showed any
sort of tenderness towards him. It wasn’t fair. He wished that this war could be over and
done with. He wanted to be happy again.

“Potter.” Kingsley had just entered the room, holding a few scrolls of parchment in his hand.
“Malfoy has brought back another report on the progress of the detention facility. Head
Ergomancer Archibald Silus has completed the Siphoning Wards to control the Veil’s power.
Magical density down to fifty percent on almost the entire two-mile radius needed. Progress
is remarkably quick, don’t you think?”

“When will it be nil?” Harry asked.

“By late this year Siren’s Asylum will be fully functional.”

Harry nodded, remembering when he and Malfoy had stormed recklessly into Voldemort’s
lair almost two years ago, only to find out that all of their standard magical spells had been
nullified. The Dark Lord had found a way to manipulate the Veil such that only he was able
to use his wand, while nullifying the entire Order of the Phoenix’s ability to do so. If it
weren’t for the Sword and Hermione’s and Draco’s summoning ability, they would all have
been dead. The scary thing was, Voldemort only needed a month to figure it out. The entire
Magical Accident Reverse Squad, including the Ergomancers from the Unmentionable squad
needed approximately ten months to accomplish the same feat.

“And about Rodulphus Lestrange, has Malfoy made any headway?” Harry asked tiredly.

“I don’t know. Malfoy keeps to himself unless he needs to make a report. I‘m assuming his
periodic disappearances have been in search of him, he has been frequenting some places
where many of those who secretly favored Voldemort go and drink- but other than that,
you’ll have to ask him yourself.”

“I’ll mention it to him next time I see him,” Harry agreed. “What is that you’ve got there?”

“Something we’ve been waiting a long time for. We’ve found William Hargreaves' hidden
lab, and finally got a conclusive lead on Ash,” Kingsley muttered. He frowned at the
parchment. “But-“ Kingsley tapped the paper- “there’s been a very serious mix-up.”

“What is it?”

“The Summoner girl who we had under detention in the stasis room- we supposedly
executed her by the Veil of the unknown nearly a month ago. However, it has come to our
attention that she is not Jacqueline Ramellie. Now that we’ve got the magical signature
identification ward working, we found that no Elemental magical trace has been found
passing through the Veil at that point in time. The dead person is actually a previous
Azkaban detainee- Leah Judith-King, a woman posing as a muggle since the mass escape
last year.”

“You’re telling me we’ve had another breach of security?” Harry demanded. “There was a
switch?”

“It seems so. Ramellie is at large-“

“FUCK!” Harry snapped. “ Who was in charge of watching her?!”

“Archibald Silus- he overseas who comes in and out of Siren’s rock-“ Kingsley said, his voice
contemplative. “Wait-“ he said.

“Yeah…you’re thinking what I am aren’t you?” Harry groused. “His military rank can
technically be overruled by Malfoy. Do you think…?” Harry said dangerously.

“You tell me. You were the one who said you trusted him…” Kingsley countered. “Why would
Malfoy allow her to escape?”

“I didn’t think he allowed her to ‘escape’ per say.” Harry got up abruptly, and grabbed the
cloak of the Order of the Phoenix and wrapped it around his Ministry cloak. Pulling the hood
of his uniform over his head, he headed towards the door, his face barely visible under the
shadows created by the lone lamp flickering in the center of the room. “ I’m going to check
something out, before I make wild accusations. When Sol and the others return from the
raid in Edinburgh, tell them to report to me. When they arrive, we’re going to follow up on
Logan Ash’s whereabouts.”

“Done.” Kingsley agreed. He paused for a fraction of a second, and then opened his mouth.
“Be careful.”

Harry paused, nodding once as he left. He couldn’t let anyone know, but he had to visit
Hermione. Only she would know what to do about his deteriorating condition.

********************

“You may not realize it yet, but you’re quite talented, Ronald. You just needed some work
on technique,” Randalf Ravenclaw commended his protégé as they practiced in their fourth
Saturday training session. Ron was laying flat on his back, his side slightly smoking from
the Paralysis Venom curse Randalf had just used on him. His shield took the brunt of it, but
the sheer force of his mentor’s spell was enough to shatter it and poison him with a
paralyzing effect that may well kill him if left unattended. Right now, he couldn’t move his
left foot as he lay there on the ground.

“You always...say something like that when I’m on...my back- Jeez, this hurts!” Ron said as
he began incanting the counter spell in his mind. Gradually, he felt the damage ease away
and was once again totally mobile. And as instructed, he conjured the antidote for the
poison without even concocting a potion- a neat trick in this Sansferi style, manipulating
known objects into a final product just by memorizing formula. The potion flask manifested
in his palm, and he took a swig. It tasted horrible, but it beat slaving hours over a cauldron
in a dingy dungeon hands down. He just wished he could have shown it off towards
Hermione. She’ll have her nut. Seven years of potions- for what? Hah!

Touching his mended ribs and feeling the antidote immediately taking effect, he grinned.
Now we’re learning some real magic!

“Come on, I’m going to show you something new today. We’ll take a little walk into the
woods shall we?” Ravenclaw said amicably, already trotting off. Ron pocketed the flask and
followed Randalf into the forbidden forest. Feeling much more confident of his abilities even
though they only scraped the bare fundamentals of Sansferi he strolled into the usually
foreboding darkness of the magical forest. After nearly half an hour of walking, Ravenclaw
stopped under a large clearing, looking up at the brilliant afternoon sky.

“Here’s fine,” Ravenclaw said simply. Ron looked about, not seeing anything really out of
the ordinary other than they were in a clearing devoid of trees. Randalf Ravenclaw abruptly
took of his cloak from his shoulders, and with a snap of his fingers, it disappeared. “There’s
a reason why the Ravenclaw clan was known as the thinkers of the time. It’s not because of
any superior intelligence trait or gene, it’s more the fact that we do not do things without
weighing the possibilities fully. Tradesmen, Craftsmen, Scholars, Teachers, that is what you
may have thought were our favoured professions, which may be true in a sense, but the
ultimate test of wits is to be put in a situation where in a split second, a wrong decision may
mean the difference of life and death. The Slytherins were cunning in their duels, Hufflepuffs
were feared for their extreme persistence and Gryffindors were always noted for their
bravery and raw magical ability. However, the Gryffindors had a high mortality rate over the
years. And do you know why is that?”

Ron was a bit taken back. “Er...nope...”

“Because they were too temperamental, too eager to fight. Well, to put it bluntly, a bit too
arrogant for their own good.” Ravenclaw sat down smoothly, crossing his legs Indian style.
He closed his eyes. "The Ravenclaw family were, and still are, strategists. They knew what
they were getting into before they entered a duel, and allowed the opponent reveal their
weaknesses or flaws by allowing them to attack first. We gave the opponent the impression
that we were vulnerable.”

“But isn’t that dangerous? What if you don’t get another chance? You may well be dead!”
Ron complained.

“If your enemy could defeat you with their first attack, you most likely won’t survive
anyway, even if you attacked first. Their level will be much greater than yours. Would you
play your trump card on the first play? The Avada Kedavra curse is very lethal, but
unfortunately, it needs a wand, and an audible incantation. It is a line of sight attack, and is
quite predicable if used by amateurs. However, very good if you like attack people from
behind, as is the Slytherins’ tendency.”

“Yeah, those cowardly bast-“

“Don’t criticize a technique before you truly understand it. That method of dueling has the
highest efficiency rate. You conceal your presence, and attack them when they aren’t
looking,” Ravenclaw said, still not opening his eyes. “Oldest trick in the book.”

“I guess…” Ron agreed.

“However, any wizard who can properly defend themselves can detect the murderous intent
involved in creating that spell beforehand, even if it’s only a fraction of a second- and will
realize that someone is sneaking up on them. That way of dispatching an opponent was
usually used on lesser wizards. When facing an opponent close to or better than your own
ability, that method will have a far lesser chance of being successful. The killing curse is an
opportunistic method of dispatching an enemy, nothing more, nothing less. Anyway, back
on topic- I think you’ll like this…” Randalf smiled, his eyes still closed.

The dirt around Ravenclaw began to twitch, then jump as if there was miniature earthquake
beneath his area of personal space. The white shirt he wore faded away, and revealed a
pale, aged torso fitting for a fifty year old man, even though Ravenclaw was the same age
as the headmaster. But as Ron looked closely, there was the tattoed head of a large bird
covering his left shoulder and chest, the elaborate body art expanding backwards over his
collarbone and covering a large portion of his back. “Listen closely. This spell will be your
ultimate objective, and the sign that you have reached an accomplished level of the art of
Sansferi,” Ravenclaw said calmly as he sat there on the forest floor.

“What is this?” Ron asked, as the very forest around him came alive with magic.

“Our opponents, (if it comes down to a battle, mind you) are extremely powerful. We will
need to cross the gap in raw ability.” Randalf said, his facial expression hardening. Ron
squinted at him. Did the tattoo just blink? The air suddenly became very heavy, and small
leaves and tiny rocks began to fall upwards into the sky. Ron took a few steps back, feeling
an incredible surge of magic encompass the clearing. Birds flew off from the nearby trees as
they too sensed that something very important was happening.

“Harry Potter can summon two mythical beings- the Serpent of Slytherin himself, Shalingini;
and the fabled Omen of Death- the Grim. Both of these beings are extremely powerful
servants of the Dark Arts. Draco Malfoy controls the magical element of Fire, as you already
know. He should not be underestimated. Henceforth, we will also need a trump card to even
the odds. That is why I am here.”

Randalf Ravenclaw brought his hands together, and began his incantation.

“From the depths of the Tenth tier of Magicke, through the era of the Ten centuries of
Drought to the year of eternal fruit, the call of the Raven will be heard- From blood to
blood… grant me the sight beyond sight- and strength beyond strength-“ Ravenclaw’s eyes
snapped open, a deep purple fire blazing in eyes. “Dexa Ramnifera !”

With him in the epicentre, a ten-sided figure etched itself into the soil, the magical lines
glowing purple with an icy cold fire. Ron immediately jumped out of the eerily flaming
Decagram.

“GRIFFYNDO PATRONUM !” Ravenclaw bellowed, his voice echoing throughout the forest.

For a moment, Ron thought nothing was happening. Suddenly, a huge shadow blocked out
all the sunlight, accompanied by a huge crashing noise. So abrupt was the tremendous
noise Ron jumped a foot of the ground. Feeling that something very big had just appeared
he looked up, and then wished he didn’t. There was the huge beak of a gigantic black eagle
pointing down at the both of them, the head taking up the entire window the clearing made
to the sky. Six feet foot long talons were visible through the huge trees it sat perched upon,
bending the centuries old fifty-feet tall oaks and mahogany as if they were nothing but
young saplings. In a peculiar birdlike habit, the eyes flicked in between Randalf and Ron, it’s
beak clicking together in sharp movements.

“[ …good afternoon…]” a surprisingly gentle feminine voice greeted. “[…randalf, who is

this…?] “

“ Sansa Ferri- meet Ronald Weasley. Hopefully, you’ll be getting to know each other quite
well. He’s my chosen apprentice,” Randalf explained. The huge eagle studied Ron, who was
halfway hidden behind a tree, peering fearfully at the huge magical creature.

“[… randy, are you mad …he’s a gryffindor through and through…. it will be more fitting to
show him how to summon leo instead…]” Sansa said disdainfully.

“You may not believe it, but he is the ‘Knight of the Order’ the old books speak about. And
to think, they never even had a ‘Knight’ of anything at that time, far less something called
the ‘Order of the Phoenix’. It all fits, Sansa-“

“[…you mean to tell me the era of Dark Ones…. the time has arrived…?]” Sansa said in mild
surprise. “[…I take it you are not mistaken…]” Randy shook his head solemnly. In a very
human gesture, the huge bird sighed. “[ …very well…come here boy… let me see you…]”

Ron looked at the intelligent eyes of the huge eagle and gulped. Squaring his shoulders, he
stepped out into the clearing. Sansa peered at him for a moment, then amazingly agile and
dexterous for a creature so large; she lowered her head into the clearing. Using her huge
beak; she nipped off some of Ron’s hair. Ron nearly had a heart attack as he felt a few
strands of his hear quickly pulled out of his scalp. The eagle clipped it between the razor
sharp edges of her beak, tasting and testing. As she did so, her huge eyes narrowed in
recognition.

“[…pardon me sir ronald…you really are one of the two heroes the seers heralded about…
my rudeness earlier was unacceptable…please forgive me…]”

Randalf smiled grimly. “That’s more like it. So you will accept him once he has gone through
the trials?”

“[…if he matures the magic potential he harness…of course, …but what about the heir of
gryffindor … ]

“I fear he is dead. Neville Longbottom has fallen in battle. This would not be as
straightforward as foretold.” Sansa frowned at Randalf, as if emphasizing her earlier
statement that he had gone mad. She began to argue.

“[…nonsense!… there will be two champions of the light….and there will be the two dark
sons of magic… that is how it will be…and no other way…]” Sansa retorted in that wise
female voice. […there needs to be balance…]”

“I know, however, another champion has emerged, and only now do we see that there is
yet another twist. I have in my possession the most recent prophecy, one from this century
to be precise- the most up to date we’ve heard yet.”

“[… pray, do tell…]”

Randalf told her of the prophecy given to him since in his teenage years. After he was
finished explaining how Gryffindor’s heir; Solidus, came into the picture, he continued on.
“A muggleborn wields the Halo of Life. Her name is Hermione Granger, and she is the
deciding factor.”

“[… as you well now, it is not possible for me to laugh like you mortals do…but your
statement makes my feathers rustle in amusement… a muggleborn wielding one of the
legendary artifacts…?]”

“No funnier than a Gryffindor summoning the Patron God of all birds- a trait held only by
those of Ravenclaw heritage….” Randalf mused.

“[…touché…]” Sansa conceded.

“And another thing- one of the dark sons, Harry Potter, has Shalingini-“ Ravenclaw stated,
but was abruptly cut off by Sansa.

“[…am I supposed to be frightened…? ….shalingini knows not to challenge me…]” she said
indignantly, feeling insulted.

“- And can also summon the Grim,” Randalf finished. At this, Sansa abruptly shut her beak.
She remained quiet, lost in contemplation for a few seconds.

“[…that being doesn’t exist… 'tis only a children’s tale passed from generation to
generation…]” she said flatly, denying such a ridiculous statement.

“It does,” Ron said solemnly. “I saw it, twice. At first, I thought it was an Animagus named
Sirius Black, but recently I found out the truth. It exists, trust me.” Sansa studied Ron, and
instinctively knew he was not lying.

“[…well, we have a slight problem…]” Sansa chirped.

“What?”

“[…we will need the Archangel to aid us in battle... powerful I may be, however, I cannot
stop death incarnate….]” Sansa said simply. Randalf smiled.

“Don’t worry, our trump card in this game has that covered. Young miss Granger is the first
fully fledged Divine Summoner since Florence Nightingale. In fact, at age eighteen, she’s
quite the magical prodigy and already is revered as the next great witch of this generation.
It is our hope that she will succeed in exorcising young Potter.”

“[…indeed?…I must meet this extraordinary young woman…very well ravenclaw…I expect
you to be efficient… this young man still has a lot of work to do…]” Sansa said wisely. “[ …
your magic is shaky, randy…too much of peace has weakened you…not even fifteen minutes
and already I must make my leave…farewell young knight…when next we meet… you will be
ready for your mission…]

Straightening her neck, the Bird God Sansa Ferri took off in a huge gust of flapping wings.
When the dust had settled, Ravenclaw grabbed his cloak and re-materialized his shirt.

“You’ll need to summon her at will to complete your training. Until then, you are bound by
magic not to tell a soul about this. Let’s head back,” Ravenclaw said, his voice faint and his
face showing the signs of age. “I’m tired. These old bones don’t work as they used to,” he
laughed, donning his shirt and robe. Ron walked a few paces behind him, inspecting his
wand, wondering how the hell was he supposed to summon something so powerful. Even
though he had doubts, he knew he wouldn’t give up so easily.

I’ll definitely get stronger, Harry- just you wait.

********************

The door to the pub opened, and a lone figure stood in the doorway, his cloak covered with
snow. The bartender froze, his pallid skin tone and androgenous features of his face clearly
indicating that he was caught by surprise. The low hum of murmuring voices came to a
standstill as the patrons slowly laid down their mugs, looking intently at this stranger. Some
of the more… daring individuals had already begun their distinctive transformation of their
canines.

The robed figure threw back his hood, and glared at the full den of vampires haughtily.

“Greetings. I am Draco Malfoy. I have come to offer you a proposition. Who amongst you
will speak on the behalf of your kind?”

The whole atmosphere tensed as more and more of the vampires shifted in their seats,
some opening their mouths in a blatant display of animosity. Some of them were about to
rise from their seats, ready to pounce, when a soft, almost feminine voice spoke up, the
command in his voice recognizable at once.

“Wait, my brethren.”

There were a few turning of heads in mild annoyance, but for the most part, all the
vampires present settled back down grudgingly. Draco tried to discern who was the owner
of that voice. After scanning the crowd, he found him, the lone man sitting at the end of the
bar, still staring down into his mug. He was the only one who did not move since Draco
made his announcement. The young wizard focused his attention on him.

“Will you be their spokesperson?” Draco asked.

“Yes.”

“Well, kindly introduce yourself.”

The man got up from the stool, eyeing Draco coldly. He was of slight build, and medium
height, his jet-black hair curling at the line of his jaw. Dressed casually in a tweed jacket
and leather coat, he did not appear to be anybody of significant importance until you looked
into his eyes. The pupils of his eyes were a fathomless black, and Draco could already feel
the hypnotic effects pulling at him.

“I am the vampire Rechaux Lestat. And you, my good sir, do not value your life.”

Draco grinned, his eyes twinkling. He thought Lestat would have been more, well,
impressive- in a way. Oh well. Life was full of disappointments. “Do you consider yourself
their representative? I would like to speak of- “ Draco paused- “ important matters with
you.”
“Oh really?” Lestat said, his tone soft.

“Is there somewhere private we may speak?” Draco said cordially.

“If it is privacy you want, we can grant it to you. You can have all the solitude you want in
your grave. Kill him.” Lestat ordered, and the whole pub of vampires pounced, ready for the
kill. Malfoy smiled, igniting both hands in fire.

“Very well,” Draco sighed, his eyes coming alive. “Have it your way.”

*************

Four minutes later, Malfoy was walking through the smoldering ruins of the mountainside
pub, searching for the one he left alive. Making his way over numerous corpses and ashen
pieces of wood in the unforgiving snow, he continued his search for a particular individual.
Finding him laying face down on top of another corpse, he grinned. Using his boot, he rolled
the half-alive body of Rechaux Lestat unto his back. The vampire was severely burned, but
Malfoy had made sure that his injuries were not of the fatal kind. He was breathing, but just
barely. No matter- vampires were tough. Once they had an ounce of life in them, they’ll
recuperate to full health in a few weeks. Grabbing the front of his overcoat he hauled him
up so that he could talk directly in his face.

“What… are you?” Lestat breathed, his eyelids burnt so badly he could not open them
further than just a fraction.

“You may address me as Lord Malfoy, Mr. Lestat. The reason for my presence here still
holds.” Draco looked around at the carnage around him, the smell of burning flesh and
wood raking his nostrils. He smiled scornfully. “As you are the only one alive, I assume you
will be the one to speak on their behalf once more.”

“Return to whatever hell you came out from-“ Lestat whispered, turning away his face. “And
don’t come back,” he added, his limbs hanging limply at his sides.

“I see.” Malfoy reached into his pocket, and retrieved an artist’s rendition of a young girl,
probably eight or nine years. “Quite a lovely home you have. Your daughter is quite
beautiful. It will be a shame….” The vampire turned his horror struck face towards Draco.
Lestat eyed the framed photograph, then back at his tormentor's unlined face.

“What- have you done to her?”

“Nothing.” Draco smiled. “As yet.”

“What do you want from me?”

“Kiss the ring on my finger, and swear allegiance to me.” Lestat eyes flickered shiftily. This
man does not have even a scratch on him. What sort of being is he?

“Will my daughter be spared?” Lestat said, his voice conceding defeat.

“That decision will be entirely up to you,” Draco responded. Letting his grip of Lestat go,
Draco stood back, awaiting the vampire’s response. After an intense inner struggle, Lestat
bent on one knee and brushed his lips against the ring on Draco’s hand.
“Lord Malfoy,” Lestat acknowledged. “I recognize your strength. But let this be a warning-
my kind will remember this day.”

“As they should,” Draco agreed. “Now, tell me what you know of a man you once associated
with in Azkaban. A man named Rodulphus Lestrange. I am quite interested in this person.”

“You speak of the one that bends reality to suit his own mind? We do not have dealings with
such a demented individual,” Lestat shot back.

“Yet, you will still tell me where he is, or has your daughter become suddenly expendable to
you?” Draco said softly, clasping his hands behind his back. Lestat bristled.

“Your ways are frighteningly similar to the one who rose to power two decades ago," Lestat
said disdainfully. "Very well, I will send our trackers to find him.”

“Excellent,” Draco responded. “I will be back in a month’s time, and I expect results. Your
daughter has my signature on her palm. It will tell me exactly where she is, and how she is
feeling, all the time. If in a month’s time I do not have the information, know that I will be
displeased.” Drawing a symbol with his finger on Lestat’s right forearm, the seal of the
Infernus was branded unto the vampire’s skin. “Enjoy the rest of your day,” Draco said
politely. Turning his back on the vampire, he made his way down the steep mountain path
disappeared in the thick snow.

**********************

That very same night, Harry secretly stole his way into Hogsmeade, a black scarf wrapped
completely around his face. He was wearing regular wizard’s robes, his hood covering his
thick black hair. Not even risking leaving a magical trial behind, he had rented a motorbike
and driven to the town’s outskirts, making sure that no one saw him enter. He had told
Hermione to use his cloak to sneak out and meet him at eleven o’clock that night at the
Lizard Wizard. He just hoped that she got his owl post in time.

Taking a seat in the furthest table from the door, he motioned the bartender for a
firewhiskey. He hated this drink, but did not want to order something untoward to attract
attention. The bartender nodded, and pointed his wand at the glass three quarter way full of
the smoking liquid. The drink materialized soundlessly on Harry’s table, and Harry wrapped
his fingers around it, staring into the amber liquid.

He checked the time. It read fifteen minutes to elev-

“psst.”

Harry jumped. Staring directly in front of him, he saw nothing. Now he knew that he was
really going mad.

“It’s me,” the voice said again. Harry relaxed, apparently staring into open space. Now he
knew how that felt like. She was sitting right in front of him, and he didn’t know a thing. Her
Occlumens ability has gotten even better, he remarked to himself. “Do you think we can
talk here?” she whispered.

Harry shook his head slightly. Taking a small sip of his drink, he took out the fare and left it
on the table. Getting up casually, he walked out of the door, instinctively knowing that
Hermione was following him. When they were a respectable distance down the road,
Hermione began to remove the cloak, but Harry stopped her.

“No. Keep it on until I say,” Harry said softly, not even turning to look in her direction.

“Why?”

“I want absolutely no one to spot you- I sense that there are wizards nearby, and if I could
sense them, they can sense us. I rather someone just sees a lone stranger walking than a
couple, even if they’re only mildly curious,” Harry explained softly, even though he was very
worried. Every time they got together something bad happened. And now that she was on a
black market list for her services, some unlucky bloke may even try and kidnap her.

And he knew what eventually happened to any idiot who dared to try cross his path.

Right now, he wanted no reason to have to lose his temper in a fight. Therefore, total
anonymity was the best choice as a precaution.

“So, where are we going?”

“I need to talk to you, and I think the best place right now is by the rock overlooking the
Hogsmeade lake, you know, the place we went to last year.”

“Oh,” Hermione stated, her footsteps crunching softly on the cobblestones. After a minute of
silence, Hermione simply stepped closer, and took his hand in hers. By doing so, she felt his
magical ability literally screaming at her, so volatile was his control over his potential. The
last time they saw each other, he was dead on his feet, yet he managed to lead the aurors
to victory. Now that he was fully recuperated, she could feel magic seeping from him in
waves.

And that scared her.

Before, she thought Randalf and Dumbledore were exaggerating on the dark potential Harry
and Malfoy had. Now that her eys were opened, she knew they were right. If she couldn’t
save him, who knows what may happen in the future?

“You can take it off now,” Harry said as they entered the little wood leading to the lake.
Hermione took off his invisibility cloak, and Harry looked at her closely. She wore a plain
black sweater and jeans, blending in seamless with the night. However, her face was more
beautiful than ever. He wished he could just sit down and stare at her whole night.

“Harry- I was so happy when I got your mail. I understand why you told me to sneak out
and keep it secret- you have enemies. I know that. But- we can still make time to see each
other,” she offered.

“Er- I’ll try, Hermione. I’ve got a lot going on in the ministry, with Luna’s abduction and my
cousin murdering three wizards. It’s just, I- I..” I can’t risk being close to you. I cant stand
it. Why does this keep happening to me? To us?

“What? You what, Harry?” Hermione prodded.

“You know that spell you do, the one that sort of sends me back to square one, inhibits my
magic, can you do it again? Except, like, a hundred times stronger?” Harry asked.

“You mean the Occlumency spell? What is it, are you having troubles sleeping with the
nightmares again?”

“Yeah, sorta. That and I’m having ..well... daymares..” Harry said uncertainly.

“ ‘Day’mares?” Hermione repeated. She began to feel very nervous, because she knew what
he was talking about, yet did not have the confidence to really tell him that his soul was in
danger of being lost. She was too scared to tell herself that, in fact. All she knew was that
she had to stop it, before the Order turned on one of their own. No matter what, she just
couldn’t see anyone trying to attack Harry ‘for the greater good’. It just did not compute in
her mind.

“I see myself- like...years into the future, and I have a huge scar on my face in the mirrors
sometimes. Usually it would be just a flash or something, but now it talks back to me, and
is..well..real… it can damage things in the real world, it could talk...well I can talk, well you
know ‘I’ can talk, but not I, it’s me, in the future, talking back to me- but it’s not me, it’s
not my future, it’s Solidus speaking, and I th-th-think I’m losing my mind.”

There was a stretch of silence for a few seconds, where Hermione’s eyes just searched his
own. Harry’s eyes were haunting, there was something missing, something eh should have,
but it was not there anymore. She didn’t know what to say. Instead she took him in her
arms and hugged him.

“Oh Harry- I’m …here for you. Always will,” she said softly, burying her face into his robes.
“We'll help you, I swear. I’ll make everything better.”

Potter, do not listen to her. She will only make you weak, and helpless. True strength
comes from within, your own flesh, your own spirit. Cut loose these emotional ties, that
path leads to misery.

Harry scrunched his eyes, and hugged her even more tightly. “Can you do it? Can you do
the spell?”

Hermione knew about the spell he was referring to- the spell she used to seal his mind and
nullify the effects of magical injuries, but she could not do that now. He was in perfect
health. There was nothing to fix. Only something deep inside to destroy.

“Yes, I can, but I will need some time to prepare,” she said, bending the truth a bit. Her
research on Siren’s curse was taking some more time. It was one of the hardest choices she
would have to make, but according to the books she read- there were two ways to modify
one’s soul. Either you split it and find a host, or basically extract it out- effectively killing the
host, as the Dementors do.

However, there was a way. In the moment of true sexual exhilaration, the human soul is at
it’s most vulnerable state. The sirens used that way to extract the highest soul density from
their victims. If she could do something similar, except only take out Solidus’ presence from
inside of Harry using her Divine Summoning ability, he may be saved. But she couldn’t risk
it now, she needed to prepare herself properly.

If done wrong, Harry could well die in her arms.

“I know, I’m counting on you,” Harry said softly. He peered into her face, and kissed her
softly on the lips. His eyes held hers, and he tried valiantly to hold back tears. His life was
falling apart before his very eyes. How could he have allowed this to happen? She would no
longer be safe. Her name was all over the Daily Prophet. Threatening letters were
intercepted by secretive ministry wards placed at the owlery, on behalf on Madame Diggory
herself. They did not want her to realize the sort of danger she was in, not as yet.

Thinking back on it, he weighed the choice he took. Was Rebecca’s condition worth risking
the lives of a civilian student- his girlfriend for? Was there no other way than to take her
into London even though he knew that there was a leak in the ministry? Did he really
believe he was strong enough to protect her no matter what happened?

But you are, young Potter. You are…but if you try to stop me...she will eventually die..

“SHUT UP!” Harry screamed suddenly, Hermione jumping back from him in shock.

“Harry? What is it?”

“I- I…don’t know,” he panted, rubbing the corners of his eyes with this thumb and
forefinger. When he reopened them, his eyes were now slightly glowing blue.

“Don’t worry about me. I just have a slight headache. I’ll just go get a potion whipped up.
I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not,” Hermione reprimanded.

“Did you hear me, woman? I said I am fine,” Harry said quietly, peering down at her.

“Harry..?” she ventured. “Maybe we should go to the professor, come on, he’ll help you,”
she offered, reaching her hand out towards him-

Hermione! Stay back! Get away from here!

“Don’t touch me, I know what you are!” Harry retorted, bracing himself further away from
her. “Begone, woman,” he said, and pulled out his wand, pointing it at her.

“Harry?”

Don’t you dare hurt her!

There was a slight uncertainty in his eyes, then Harry awkwardly fell unto his hands and
knees, panting heavily. Hermione immediately bent to make sure he was okay. He was
sweating profusely, even though a second ago he was perfectly dry. As sweat dripped off
his nose, Harry formed a fist into the loose soil under his palm. Not again! And not when he
was around her! That was too close...way too close…

“I..” Harry puffed, trying to catch back his breath. “I have to get away from here…” he
wheezed, turning over flat on his back. He gripped the center of his chest painfully,
squeezing over his heart. The pain came on like direct adrenaline shots to his heart, making
it beat faster and faster. “Hermione!” he looked desperately towards her. “G-get back..” He
needed…he needed…

A release.
His eyes began to glow, and the last thing Hermione knew was the sound of trees nearby
vaporizing into dust.

******************

“She’s awake, professor,” came Madame Pompfrey’s voice. Hermione’s eyes fluttered
opened, instantly recognizing the familiar setting of Hogwarts hospital wing.

“Huh? What happened?” Hermione shot up in bed, her pupils wide with adrenaline.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Madame Pompfrey said as she left.

“Miss Granger, are you feeling all right?” Dumbledore asked solemnly.

“Yes-“

“Did Randalf not warn you explicitly to stay away from him?” Dumbledore cut her off
abruptly, a fierce look in his eyes.

“But I-“

“Here, come look at this-“ Dumbledore ordered, motioning towards the window. Hermione
got out of bed, and took the little telescope from Dumbledore’s hand. “Look there, behind
Hogsmeade…what do you see?”

“I see the lake-“ she froze. Oh no…

“And what else do you see?” Dumbledore asked.

“Nothing,” Hermione whispered.

“And do you know why you can only see the lake and nothing else?” Dumbledore questioned
her, his tone very angry. Hermione knew the reason, but stayed mute. “Harry has
inadvertently destroyed the entire wood, including three lakeside lodges using an
uncontrolled Reducto Ultima blast. Luckily, there was no one inside of the dwellings at the
time.” He rounded on her, locking her eyes with his. “You are extremely fortunate,
Hermione. If he had not somehow protected you at the final moment, all would have been
lost!”

“I- I- I’m so sorry!” she sobbed. Dumbledore turned away from her, his anger radiating in
waves.

“At this stage, ‘being sorry’ is not enough. You are too valuable to be taking such foolish
chances. If things had turned out differently, we would have no chance of saving Harry, and
would need to find other means of stopping Solidus from possessing one of the most
powerful wizards of our time. I will say this again- you are not to see him until you are
ready! Do you understand me?”

“Yes sir,” Hermione said softly.

“Very well. I trust you do comprehend that this is not a game. Many future lives hang in the
balance. Do not forget that.” And with those final words, Dumbledore strode out of the
hospital wing, leaving Hermione to shed her tears alone.

**************************************

Author’s note: To you H/hr shippers who feel that I’m treating them unfairly, I‘m just
reminding you that this is more of an epic, and not just another romance. There’s a method
to the mayhem, er sorta. (just kidding, I know what I’m doing!) Lol! Anyway, thanks for
reading, and stay tuned for the next chapter!

Chapter 25: Rebecca's Promise

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** CHAPTER 25: Rebecca's Promise **

..I should be dead right now

It was pitch dark. Even though he could not see anything, the scents and smells of the
outdoors were very familiar to him. And the sound of water nearby, the bite of the chilly
breeze, it was all piecing together. As if completing a circuit, all of his senses flicked on one
after the other, his eyes finally adjusting to the darkness.

Even through all the odds, he was still alive.

Harry Potter sat up slowly, surveying his surroundings. All he knew for certain was that he
was at the base of a mountain valley, silt and muddy water dried up into a thick layer of
dust on his ministry uniform. Water lapped gently at his favourite horntail boots, and
looking down, he grimaced as he could feel that there was a nasty infection in his feet. How
long was he out of it? Taking out his Ministry enhanced mobile phone to check for the date,
he cursed as water seeped out of the plastic housing, rendering it useless.

Harry swore loudly, throwing it away. His clothes felt like a nightmare against his skin, and
he knew that he looked a complete mess. Dragging himself up on the pebbly bank out of
the water’s edge, he waved his hand and his boots were thrown off. Harry gasped in shock
as a sharp pain ran up his legs and into his spinal cord. He could have sworn some skin also
went with the sodden socks that stuck to the inside of the dragon hide boots.

“Lumos.”

Hissing painfully, he looked at his ankles, and the nasty colour of his feet. How long had he
been drifting in the lake? How come he was still alive? He knew from experience that after
he released that tremendous amount of raw magic to do the Ultima curse, he was usually
out for at least three to five days. For him to awake now after drifting for who-knows-how-
long, relatively unharmed and breathing, was totally mind boggling.

He should have died.

But, as he thought about it, considering all the adventures and intense battles he has been
in and he was not even eighteen as yet, this situation seemd laughable. If anything, he
should have been dead ten times over already. Death by drowning seemed so… well,
ordinary, in a sense.

Hell, Bellatrix Lestrange, wait- forget her- even Voldemort himself had cursed him to die,
yet both times he survived. Without even realising it, he began to laugh. Softly at first, then
it became loud and uninhibited to the point of being maniacal. Forgetting all about the
painful swelling of his feet, he began to laugh; laugh aloud at himself: his fucking suicide
job, his failing relationship with Hermione, his frequently increasing spells of completely no
self-control; and to top it off- the mere fact that he was losing his mind and was so messed
up inside that here he was, in the middle of nowhere in almost complete darkness; laughing
about his worthless existence.

In his eyes, his whole life was just the funniest thing.

‘The Boy who Lived’; just cannot die.

After he had exhausted himself laughing about this latest discovery, he spread his arms and
legs in a wide ‘x’, creating a disfigured snow angel in the mud and silt deposited on the
bank. After a moment of just staring up in the sky, Harry blinked once, and his eyes began
to glow. With a stupid grin on his face, he watched as the sickly blue tinge of his toes
disappeared, and after a couple of minutes, was completely healed.

He sighed. Picking up his prized, but ruined; horntail boots, he looked at his desolate
surroundings.

Time to go.

The air around him was immediately sucked in, then he felt the now familiar yank behind
his navel and he was gone.

***********

“YES! My faithful, how we have come far! Far into the realm of God, far off from this world
of mortal flesh and selfish desires! Our moment is near! Behold!”

Rebecca Lestrange hated these types. She could at least give some credit to wizards who
tried to rally the support of other wizards, and form a following to gather around them in
mutual respect or perverted admiration, but for a wizard to identify himself as the messiah
to unsuspecting muggles was just low. Dressed in a shapeless gown like the other hundreds
of cult followers here, she had finally found Terrence Almahazar, a convict from Azkaban
who single-handedly had Edinburgh’s suicide rate up to a record high.

Sol and Steven were also around, and had already set the anti-apparation wards around the
building’s perimeter. It was her job as their top marksman, (or markswoman as they teased
her), to make it an efficient and quiet kill. However, as it so happens, he was not having
any ‘private blessings’ this evening. Many women had their share of ‘private blessings’,
although, tragically, it was the last thing they ever did. The strange thing about Almahazar,
was that he wasn’t a regular wizard by any means. He thrived in the muggle world. He lived
for the adoration. He thrived on the ugliness of man. His fetish was trying out all of the
most illegal and morally disgusting practices of the modern age, and exploiting it tenfold
with his command of magic.

Immigrant slavery, murder, sadomasochistic torture, drugs, child prostitution, even

genocide, you name it- he had done it.

Now this new gig, being the so-called long awaited Child of God, the second coming of the
Christ- had sparked a lot of interest by the Ministry of Magic. But it wasn’t so
straightforward. They couldn’t simply put a warrant for his arrest. The people here adored
him, and as far as the muggle authorities were concerned, they couldn’t do a damn thing
about it. Any sort of public arrest or sudden disappearance would inevitably make him a
martyr, and may provoke even more violence. Unfortunately for the authorities on both
sides of the magical fence, there was no direct link between him and the countless, and
supposedly random, suicides taking the city by storm.

Henceforth, since conventional methods were out, Diggory had sent the S.T.A.R. Elite to
eliminate him. Rebecca inched a bit further into the crowd, disguised as one of the many
followers. Her eyes narrowed in focus. Here they were: in a god-forsaken place in the
middle of nowhere; everything was set in place, albeit they were two men short. It didn’t
bother her that Malfoy was on a Secret Black Op, the less she saw him, the better; but
Harry hasn’t been seen or heard from for a few days now.

Where was he?

“-This bread represents my body- it shall be given up for you-“

Blah…blah blah…

Rebecca cursed under her breath. The modified ‘Skeeter Bug’ in her ear needed some work.
It felt uncomfortable sticking inside of her ear. “ Warshire, you make the call. I’m good to
go.”

“Not yet.”

“And this wine- represents my blood-“ The hundreds raised their empty wineglasses, and
they were immediately filled.

“How much longer are we going to watch this? I’m fifteen feet away. It would be quick.”
Rebecca spat. Harry’s absence was making her quite on edge.

“I said ‘No’, soldier!” Warshire crackled in her ear.

“What are we waiting for?” she hissed.

“DeFontaine is still trying to counter-charm the wine. He’s going to put everyone here to
sleep- but Almahazar’s pretty good- hold on while he tries to crack it. Sol will give me the
signal if he gets it to work. So sit tight.”

“Affirmative,” Rebecca sighed, her fingers closing and opening rhythmically on the handle of
her assassin’s blade. It took her a few weeks to get accustomed holding it again; after all,
this self same weapon was used on her when she was captured. Those three days at St.
Mungo’s were absolute hell.

..If it weren’t for Harry and his girlfriend…

Suddenly, the person in front of her stumbled, then fell headfirst. All around her, one by
one, the cult followers began passing out into a deep slumber. Even before she heard the
command, she sprang into action.

“Go!”

Sprinting forward, she borrowed the shoulder of the man in front of her and using his
massive bulk as leverage, vaulted on top of the stage. Wordlessly, she used her magic to
fling away the podium between her and Almahazar. Almahazar, caught off guard, dropped
his ‘Holy Grail, the wine spilling all over the smooth tiles. Realizing that his apparation spell
wasn’t working, he forze in fear as Lestrange charged him head on, a deadly blade glinting
in her right hand. But her self-confidence was her undoing. As luck would have it, she
stepped directly into the puddle and slipped. Before she knew it, she was sliding feet first
towards Almahazar, who had already drawn his wand, and had her lined up. A flash of light
later, she was vaulted upside down into the air, her legs flailing wildly under the Levicorpus
spell.

“Shit-“ she swore, looking into the slightly deranged eyes of Almahazar. Sol and Steven
wouldn’t be able to make it in time. This was it- she was about to die…

She clenched her eyes shut, expecting it to be quick. Suddenly, the spell was released, and
she fell in a heap.

Before her very eyes slashes began to appear across Almahazar’s face and arms, blood
staining the immaculate white robes he wore. Almahazar fell face forward, his gashed face a
mere foot in front of hers. She had seen carnage in her young years before, but this
particular curse, in it’s sheer intimacy, was even more horrifying up close.

“Sectumsempra.”

There was a movement of someone coming out of the shadows on her left, and she couldn’t
believe her eyes. Almahazar was going into shock, his eyes dilating and tremors racked his
body so hard that his teeth rattled. There was a disgusting sound of bowels slackening, and
a fetid stench swamped Rebecca’s nose. Harry Potter stepped calmly forward, then stooped
down, speaking softly in the mutilated man’s ear

“I can stop this. But first, do you know the whereabouts of a man called Rodulphus
Lestrange?”

“Yes.. God above yes! Stop th- is...I beg -“ he gasped, blood leaking out of his mouth.

“Where?” he demanded.

“W-wales…four miles south of Cardiff-“ his slashed throat released a bubble of blood. “Reck-
Reckinshire Manor …“ he gurgled, his shredded fingers twitching as they came up to touch
the open wounds on his face. “Help.. me…”
“Lestrange, let’s go,” Harry said, and walked off the platform. “The M.A.R.S. Division will be
here shortly. It seems the Anti-apparition wards worked too well. They need a landmark.”

“er Harry, what- how?” Rebecca sputtered, looking at Almahazar gasping for his last breath.
“Wait- aren’t you going to help him?” Harry did not even glance back at him.

“I don’t know the counter curse.”

Rebecca’s eyes bulged, but she did not object. Sol and Steven were making their way
through the multitudes of sleeping muggles, secretly hesitating coming too close to their
squad leader. He did not appear to be in the best of moods right now. With one last pitiful
glance at the dying man, she regained her composure and all four of them wordlessly made
their way out of the modified warehouse. When they were back out in the deceptively calm
afternoon, DeFontaine finally got the nerve to ask what they were all thinking.

“Where the fuck have you been, Potter?” Sol asked, lighting up.

“I send you three to deal with one mediocre wizard weeks ago, and you fuck this up. What if
she was killed?” Harry spat, nodding over his shoulder.

“Hey! I’ll gladly do my job and take the risks!” Rebecca countered, her temper rising. Harry
ignored her.

“Warshire- what were you waiting for? Didn’t you know that the water-into-wine spell he
uses is poisoned? Did you find a thrill in waiting for the last moment?”

“I didn’t want the muggles to see us–“

“Your mission was to find him, and then dispatch of him in a timely manner. Don’t wait until
he’s surrounded by potential hostages then act; for Christ’s sake. The next time I have to
come and clean up your shit- or any of you for that matter-“ Harry ranted, then suddenly
broke himself off. “Fuck.” Harry swore. “Forget it. Just forget it.”

There was a stony silence as Harry just walked off and ran his hands through his hair, his
frustration building in waves. He stalked off a bit further, kicking a bottle idly, as if just by
doing that, he could simply put this whole episode behind him. A whole fucking week. Seven
days he could not account for. And the moment he steps into the office the following
morning he gets a strong feeling that someone is going to die.

Someone he knows.

He cursed. Since when did he get premonitions like this? And his instincts led him here, to
the very spot where it was going to happen. Remembering the reason he exited the
building, he outstretched his hand and the plastic coca-cola bottle came zooming into his
palm. Right- the M.A.R.S. crew is awaiting confirmation. Pulling out his wand, he rapped it
smartly and dropped it. Jeez…what a day.

“Portus!”

As if on cue, twelve wizards and two witches apparated around the Portkey. Well, he got
half of his premonition right. Someone did die just now. Just not someone he knew.

“Commander Potter,” Sean Creevy acknowledged. “They’re inside?”

“Yes.” Well it was close. Rebecca could have been killed in action. Fortunately, he knew how
to do the ‘porting spell accurately now. And luckily for Warshire and DeFontaine- he was the
one doing the killing, instead of that lunatic. If Rebecca had died because of these two
men… he didn’t know what he’d do.

“Have your potions masters fix something up. It’s poison mixed with a Sleeping Draught in
their blood stream. Hopefully, you have about thirty minutes before they die.” Harry nodded
grimly. “No need to keep the corpse. Vanish him.”

“Well lads, let’s get to work,” Sean added, and the squad of fourteen entered the building.
Warshire stepped forward, his head held high, knowing that the mission was nearly a
disaster.

“Commander, I accept that I was incompetent. If you so wish, I will request to be dismissed
in the morning.”

“Request denied,” Harry sighed. He looked directly at Rebecca, who was standing apart
from everyone, her gaze fixated on a distant point on the horizon. Her arms were wrapped
around her torso, her eyes bright with restrained tears. Almahazar’s blood was splattered
across her face and robes, but she didn’t even seem to notice. Without even looking at the
three others, she simply walked away. Harry's insides twisted with anguish. It was that
close. “Just...just...be more careful next time. Okay?”

“I will.”

“Sol, Steven, mission accomplished,” Harry said, even though it was understood. “I’m sure
your wives are missing you after your two-week absence. Go on home,” Harry said.

“What about Becky?” Sol ventured. Harry looked off in her direction, squinting as the sun
dropped lower in the sky. A gust flew past, picking up a cloud of dust in the abandoned
factory town. Hell, the whole place felt dead, a desolate place smack dab in the middle of
nowhere.

“I’ll give her some time, then probably drop her home. She looks pretty shaken up.”

“Fuck man- you scared the shit out of her. The Sectumsempra curse? Why didn’t you just
Kedavra his ass and be done with it?” Sol argued.

“I don’t know how to do that curse yet,” Harry said calmly.

Both men stared. “You can't be serious,” Sol retorted. “We’ve seen your credentials. I hear
there is a freaking lot of land reserved in St. Martin’s for dead Death Eaters because of you.
What is this shit I’m hearing about not being able to do the Killing curse?”

“I don’t. Just drop it, okay?” Harry complained. “Get outta here. Or do you want to stay and
help Creevey and the others??” Harry raised an eyebrow.

“Fuck this shit, I’m off.” and with that last bout of profanity, Sol disappeared with a pop.

Warshire came closer to Harry, and put a fatherly hand on his shoulder. “You’re one hell of
a soldier. This is what we do, and there’s a reason that we’re the only ones who can do it.
Remember that.” A second later, and he was gone as well. Well, only one more to go. For
some reason, seeing Rebecca held upside down at her captor’s mercy, was too much. Even
if Almahazar wasn’t a serial paedophile rapist, or didn’t create snuff movies with his select
“Chosen”, just attacking Rebecca was enough to end his worthless existence.

The world was better off without him anyway.

Now it was just to persuade Rebecca that very same thing.

For a couple of seconds, Harry simply froze. He had no clue what to do next. Put him in a
fight, and it’s easy. Put him alone with an emotional woman, and it’s a nightmare.

“Rebecca?” he called, walking up behind her.

“What?” she said, irritated.

“It’s okay. We got him,” he said, trying to put as much calm into his voice. “We can –“

“It’s not ‘we’ and you damn well know it, Harry.” She turned on him, her eyes red, on the
verge of tears. “It was you. Always was.

“But-“

“No, I don’t know what it is about you two, you and Malfoy, but you make us, well me, feel
like I'm worthless. How many times have I been just the stupid 'damsel in distress'?”
Rebecca snapped. “I just- I don’t know, I feel like I’m just not cut out for this...”

“Don’t say that, we’ve only started working together-“

“And already Malfoy is doing Top secret operations and you have the minister’s ear in your
pocket. Can’t you see, Harry? You don’t need us!” She indicated the warehouse behind
them. “Two weeks of infiltration and intelligence gathering, today’s the day we execute, and
we blew it. I blew it,” she said in a self-loathing manner. “He had me strung up like a doll-
so stupid, slipping at the most inopportune moment-”

“It happens-“

“I’ve never seen you being hung upside down by some half-assed narcissist! Next to you, I
feel so- so.. inferior. I always feel, not up to your standard. And that’s weird for me,
because I thought I was a perfectionist. I thought I was good at my job.”

“You are, it’s just sometimes we’ve got to deal with the unexpected-“ Rebecca raised her
hand, stopping him.

“I don’t even know what to say to you anymore.” She cut him off. “I’m torn between
wanting to thank you for saving my life- again- but I also want to scream at you for making
me look like a fool in front of the others. I don’t know, Potter, but I think you’re just too
good at this. Look at you, not one bloody scratch, or sprinkle of blood, or for crying out
loud- not even a wrinkle on your robes!” She looked down at herself, and the mixture of
wine, blood and dirt making her white robes look like a painter’s cleanup rag. “What are
you? Do you have some lucky talisman you wear all the time? Is this-“ she raised both arms
in exasperation- “just a piece of cake to you?”

Harry just stared at her, his face hardening. “No. It’s not.”
“Could have fooled me. You pop out of nowhere and nearly dissected him into five pieces.
Couldn’t have planned it better myself.” She said in a mocking tone. “Don’t you feel
anything, Mr. Roboto?”

“Watch your mouth, Rebecca. You don’t know a thing about what I’ve been through, and
the dead that haunt me,” he said softly. “Remember what I said on the train? I couldn’t
escape this even if I tried. I decided it’s better I just face this head on, instead of running
away. If this is what I’m good at, well, whatever. Don’t make it seem like it’s all easy for me
to be doing this. I have a lot of shit going on, and this line of work isn’t helping me deal with
it.”

“So why would you take the job if you’re so against it?”

“This whole…campaign, war- whatever you call it. I am largely to blame for it even
happening. So I swore to Hermione, and everyone on that train- that I would not stop until
they are safe.”

“You to blame? What are you talking about?” Rebecca asked, utterly confused. Harry looked
at her, and decided then and there he would tell her. But first, he needed an oath of
secrecy. Taking of his scarf, he asked for her forearm. She extended it, a puzzled
expression on her face. Harry grasped her hand in his, and wrapped the scarf around both
of their wrists, gripping her thumb in a firm hold.

“I’m going to tell you something than can cause a lot of trouble if leaked. Will you promise
to keep it a secret?”

Rebecca looked into his green eyes, and nodded. “Yes.”

“After I faced Voldemort- Malfoy disappeared. Dumbledore had cast a charm that modified
the entire school’s memories of him, because he thought that Malfoy was a very dangerous
threat. When I found out what he had done , I was pretty angry about it, and wanted a few
er, well, ‘select’ words. As my luck would have it, Diggory kicked me out of school that
same day, with the whole Auror fiasco at Hogwarts. Eventually, I found out that Ash had
ordered Malfoy to rot in Azkaban.”

“Too bad some overzealous idiot went and destroyed Azkaban, we wouldn’t have to see his
face-“ Rebecca broke off; her eyes opening almost double in size. As if a bulb had been
switched on, it came to her. The unofficial report stated that damage coincided with the
blast radius of the Ultima curse...

“Oh my god! It was you!”

“Yes. Malfoy risked everything more than once to save my life, and I was honour bound to
rescue him. Unfortunately, I lost control. I used the Essence of Muriad to protect me from
the dementors, but at a high cost, I now feel- more…well …immune to this, the killing, the
war. I don’t feel it as I used to.”
He couldn't tell her about his hidden ability. He didn't think he could tell anyone what was
really happening to him, not now, maybe not ever. This was close enough to the truth to
suffice.

“I – can’t believe it,” Rebecca said softly, her expression dumbstruck. “It really was you..
Potter, you know something right? You just told me you single-handedly destroyed
Azkaban. I heard it. From right there-“ she poked his lip playfully. “Who would have
thought? The Ministry’s finest destroys Azkaban! And lets loose hundreds of lunatics!”
Rebecca chuckled, but it wasn’t one of humour. She just couldn’t believe it. This man here
was only seventeen.

Seventeen.

“Yeah, funny isn’t it? It’s also very funny when I have twenty-eight dead haunting me every
night. My mistake, twenty-nine. “ He indicated behind him.”You go ahead and laugh,” Harry
said coldly, calmly unwrapping his scarf around their arms. “The spell is set. You’re my
secret keeper, Lestrange. Remember that.”

Harry turned away, his heart heavy with his sins. And what made it even worse, he knew
there would be more. It was inevitable. Walking back towards the warehouse, he left
Lestrange standing by herself, too stunned to speak.

“Harry- I-“ she caught up to him, pulling his elbow so that he had to turn around. “I’m
sorry-“ she said, wrapping her arms around him. Harry just stood there, caught off guard by
this impromptu hug. “I didn’t know- it must have been horrible. So young…” she rest her
head on his shoulder, her arms closely latching unto him beneath his cloak.

“Rebecca, er-“ Harry said, awkwardly touching her back. He wasn’t too sure how to tell her
to let go. “Um, you can let go know, I’m fine, really.”

She tilted her head back, her eyes bright with tears. “No you’re not,” she said softly,
moving a stray lock of hair away from his temple. “I-“ she trailed off. Slowly, ever so slowly,
she placed her lips against his. Harry just stood there, not moving a muscle.

What the…?

Her lips pressed a bit more meaningfully against him now, her eyes closing as she tasted his
skin. When he didn’t respond initially, she opened her eyes halfway, searching his uncertain
green ones. Pressing a bit closer unto him, she felt uncertainty; desire, reluctance,
admiration, and sorrow swell up in her all at the same time. His breath played against her
parted lips, and she asked ever so softly, almost pleading:

“Don’t you want me?”

Those words coursed through Harry- feeling like wildfire. Her touch, her lips, they way she
felt against him was completely exhilarating, but inside he knew his heart belonged to
another. However, he could not deny what he felt for this woman. He did want her.

Her eyes closed, and her lips parted to be kissed.

Harry did the only thing he could.

He kissed her.

She practically melted against him, her body language screaming submission and desire.
Only when his hands rose to touch her face did he feel something wet against his fingertips.
That sensation brought him back to reality.
Blood.

Harry’s eyes flashed open, and he abruptly let her go. Rebecca touched where his fingers
had grazed her cheek, and lowered her eyes solemnly.

“No man has ever shown me that he will fight, and will kill another, to protect me.” She said
softly. “By this blood on our fingers, you prove once again that no matter what happened,
you were there to save me. I don’t think it’s fair to expect anything more than camaraderie
from you, but I will tell you this: I am forever indebted to you. And that’s a promise.”

She brushed her bloodstained fingertips against his in a fleeting touch, then began to chant,
her eyes closed.

“Bound by blood, never to be broken. To those who rise against us, let there be no quarter
given. Arms at the ready, let the trials begin, fate will hold us together, through love and
through sin.”

Harry felt a sharp burn on his fingers and he immediately yanked back his hand. The blood
had vanished, and he felt a strange feeling of a soft magical spell running through him.

“What did you do?” he asked vehemently.

“I have sworn in my promise through magic,” she stated, making the obvious even more
obvious.

“Which means?”

“I have cast a protective charm on you.” If you could call a life-debt ‘protection’.

“What? Why? Undo it!” Harry ordered.

“Can’t. It’s a one shot thing. A trait all of my bloodline knows, a single spell that has been
inherited throughout generations of my family.”

“You gotta be joking. A Lestrange hereditary charm?” Harry stammered.

“Why not?” Rebecca teased, smiling at him.

“I have enough magic charms and ‘ancient this’ and ‘prophesised that’ going on as it is!”

Rebecca sauntered closer towards him, and looked at him defiantly in his eyes. “So?” and
she then quickly pecked him on the lips. “Have another! Bye!” and with a last wink, she
disapparated.

Harry cursed in frustration, grabbing handfuls of hair in his hands. “Fuck-Fuck- FUCK!”
jumping and stamping his feet with the last one. What had he just done? And more
importantly, what did Rebecca just do?

*******************
Three days later, Harry called an important meeting of the S.T.A.R. Elite at their ministry
office. In his hand was a file folder of very important information. In it were updates on the
two men on top of their list, Angelo Dorius Ash, otherwise known as Logan Ash, and
Rodulphus Orion Lestrange, the man singly responsible for making Harry’s life a living
nightmare.

Alongside Sol, Steven and Rebecca, (who he avoided eye contact with) all of them were
waiting for their last member. After fifteen minutes had passed, Draco Malfoy walked in,
taking off a heavy black cloak and carefully hanging it up on the coat rack. Without a word,
he sat down at the round cards table and rocked back, propping his feet on the flat surface.
After a tense silence where everyone was watching him as if he had no manners, or even
any sort of respect for the rest of the team, he smirked.

“What? Expecting me to apologise?” Harry clenched his fist in irritation. Draco grinned at
him. “Please, Lord Potter, you may begin,” he announced, offering him the floor in a grand
gesture. “Even though whatever you say may be irrelevant now anyway,” Draco added
under his breath.

“Irrelevant, you say?” Harry raised an eyebrow. “Unlike you, I’ve found out where
Lestrange’s home is-“

“Bah! You could have asked Becky here that-“ Draco countered. Harry looked at him as if
Malfoy was talking utter nonsense.

“He wouldn’t be so stupid to be at his parent’s house all this while, now would he?”

“Au contraire, my good captain,” Draco said calmly. “That is the difference between his way
of thinking, and you. That is indeed his base of operations. However, for the past few
weeks, he has been absent without leave, or so his butler says. I have some more
important information, and guess what, it concerns both Ash and Lestrange. I –“ Draco
smiled secretively, clearing his throat once again- “asked the help about his whereabouts.
She seemed willing and able after, er- some minor persuasion, but couldn’t give me a place,
per say, just something she overheard from the portraits… ” Draco shrugged.

“And what is that may I ask?” Harry said folding his arms.

“Both of them are working together and they’ve done something very, very sinister indeed.
A terrible weapon, something even the Dark Lord himself could not create-“ Malfoy broke
off, looking at each of them in turn. All of them leaned in a fraction, already caught by
Draco’s report. Draco smiled.

After realising that he was intentionally keeping them waiting, Sol slammed his hand on the
table.

“WELL?!” Sol shouted. “What the fuck is it? Goddammit!”

“Thought you’d never ask. Lestrange was quite a busybody over the course of this year, or
so I’ve heard. I have from my er –“ he cleared his throat- “various sources, that apart from
the Doppelganger Imperius curse that he and Antolin Doholov created, he’s gone and made
something even more efficient; even more ingenious…“
Harry rolled his hands in a ‘keep going’ manner. Malfoy sighed, as if telling him all of this
was too tiresome to really be bothered about.

“He’s created a very powerful spell, something Voldemort proposed but never completed-
the Doppelganger Fidelus Curse. It’s an offshoot from the generations old War chant our
good friend here-“ he pointed, “ Becky’s family created. But instead of just a one time use
to someone they declare worth dying for, Rodulphus and Ash found a way to make one
wizard spread it to another, who in turn would spread it to another, and then he to the next
and so on- a viral curse- very crafty indeed...“

“Oh my god...no..” Rebecca breathed. He actually altered their bloodline magic?

“The catch is, whoever is cursed will wholeheartedly swear allegiance and unwavering
loyalty to one man. Yes, you guessed it: her brother.” Draco tilted his head haughtily in her
direction. “It's suposedly even more dangerous than the Imperius curse. Unwavering
loyalty: worth dying for, worth killing for. Maybe one in a million chance you’d actually find
someone with that much determination, now he’s actually created a formula to use
whenever he wants.. Quite a feat.”

“We’ve got to find them-“ Harry declared. Draco put up his palm, indicating that Harry
should take it easy.

“I’ve got that covered too,” Draco said as a matter of fact, inspecting his wand
nonchalantly. Harry turned, looking at him expectantly. After a quiet moment which lasted
nearly five seconds, he simply intertwined his fingers and smiled.

“Yes?” Draco asked in mild curiosity as four pairs of eyes were fixated on his face.

“OH FOR CRYING OUT LOUD! ! STOP FUCKING AROUND !” It was now Harry’s turn to
explode.

“Oh. Right. The Durmstrang Institute is first. Tomorrow night, they’re going to be knocking
on their front door."Draco smiled. "Hmmm... nearly four hundred strong impressionable
minds- already apprentices of the more, should I say- intriguing side of magic to boot... Tell
me something, Potter- are these three ready to handle wizards with elemental abilities, plus
Rodulphus himself?” He grinned at Rebecca. “Oh, by the way Rebecca, wear some non-skid
shoes, I hear it’s a bit muddy over in Norway these days- don't want anymore, er- slip
ups...“

Watching her go red in the face, Draco laughed and exited the room. “I’ll be back in the
morning. I’m going home and have sex, then take some well-deserved rest. Tomorrow will
be a long day.”

********************

Author's note: Teaser: there will be another fic in this series, but it will not revolve around
Harry Potter....*soft evil laugh*
Chapter 26: The Battle of Norway
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**CHAPTER 26: The Battle of Norway**

Hogwarts was always a beautiful place just before the summer. The grass was full and
green, and all the sleeping trees were back in their full splendour, their foliage once again
thick and giving much welcomed shade to the students who wished for a bit of piece and
quiet outdoors.

Rubeus Hagrid was getting ready to go about his morning tasks, grabbing a large bunch of
keys to enter the greenhouses on the eastern face of the castle. Fang was as lazy as ever,
not even leaving his nap basket to see his master off. Moments before Hagrid's departure,
the usually docile dog jumped out of his comfortable bed, and began to bark like mad.

"Wha' is it, Fang?" Hagrid grumbled. "Ain't got no time for huntin' today, if tha's wha' yer
thinkin'.” Hagrid went about his usual business when a soft knock came from his door. Fang
was at the door barking in short bursts, as if uncertain if the visitor was a threat or not.
Hagrid, trusting his loyal pet’s instincts, took out his umbrella, approaching the door
cautiously.

"Easy boy.." Hagrid said softly, angling towards the window. Drawing back the curtain to
peek outside, he couldn't believe his eyes. This was the last person he'd expect to come
knocking on his door. Unlatching the lock, he flung the door open wide.

"Luna! Darlin’! Thank goodness! Where 'ave you been? Are you okay? How did you escape?
What 'appened to Lestra-" Hagrid cut himself off as he finally realized that there was a man
leaning up on the wall of his hut, casually positioned such that he would not have been able
to see him from the window.

"Ruby, it's been a long time," Rodulphus Lestrange said in greeting, a charming smile on his
face. "Surprised?" He added, folding his arms as he crossed his feet casually at his ankles.

"YOU!" Hagrid bellowed, drawing his umbrella, but he was too slow. Before he knew it, a
spell at hit him straight in between the eyes, and his head buzzed for a moment.

"Come on, we've got to get the others," Rodulphus said easily, Hagrid nodding at once. "I
have a little surprise for our favourite Auror 'commander', " Rodulphus said jokingly and
Hagrid grinned.

"Aye, I'm eager to hear what you’ve been up to these past few decades. My bow is ready."
Hagrid said in a much more refined tone.

"Good...good...you'll get your part, never fear."

"Can't wait," Hagrid said with comfortable smile on his face. "It's been a while, eh Ralphie?"

"Too long my friend, too long."

*******************

Harry did not leave the Ministry of Magic since Draco told him of Lestrange’s plan. As soon
as he told Kingsley of these new developments the entire Auror division and the ministry
police division has been in a code red state of emergency. Inter-department owl memos
were zooming with a frantic pace, feathers and bird droppings littering the hallways like
crazy. Rosco, the ministry house elf, had a right fit when things went haywire and was
constantly popping in and out of existence all over the place with his trusty scoop and
vanishing bag. Staff and military alike was racing from one corridor to another, a red strobe
light pulsing in the ceilings.

Harry stared at the reflection as he sat alone on the centre bench in the locker rooms.

A flak jacket with numerous pouches covered his dark blue uniform. Brand spanking new
basilisk boots, from the self same on he had killed. Very expensive, and given to him by
Youri Llewellyn; the mathematical genius/bookworm from payroll as ‘standard issue’
replacement (even though he knew it was the Minister’s personal gift). His wand in one
hand, a golden armband with four stars embedded in it in the other.

He looked at his reflection through weary eyes. Was he afraid? Was he really ready to do
this?

The door opened, and Sol poked his head in. He caught Harry looking pensively at the
armband gripped in his fingers. For a moment, neither man said anything.

“Commander.”

“Yes?”

“They’re waiting on you. You ready?”

“I’m coming,” Harry said tonelessly

The door closed with a soft click.

War.

They were at war, and the enemy has made their intentions known. Even if Malfoy did not
warn them, they got post early this morning from Rodulphus himself, stating blatantly what
he was going to do. The cocky bastard.

Taking a deep breath, he pulled the golden band over his left arm. Securing his wand, he
got up and resolutely clasped the Cloak of the Order of the Phoenix around his shoulders,
pulling the hood up over his hair.

Time to go to work.
*****************

The Ministry of Magic’s armoury was a large building behind the training base, which was a
few miles away from the Lionheart Order of Sorcery. The ten portkey stations were
transporting personnel by the sixes and sevens, each arriving every two minutes. Harry
Potter walked into the building alongside Sol DeFontaine, Steven Warshire, Rebecca
Lestrange and last but not least, Draco Malfoy. After waiting exactly ten minutes, everyone
had arrived, including all the division commanders and the minister of magic herself, Sherry
Diggory.

Harry stood off a bit to the side as the Minister gave the three hundred and seventy six
aurors and nearly a thousand police her speech, which was, to his relief, was blessedly
short.

“..and with these parting words, I’ll open up the floor for a word from your field
commander.” She looked across at Harry, and nodded. Stepping down the podium, she
walked regally back to the other politicians and high ranking officials from the ministry of
magic and allowed Harry to take the floor.

Harry knew this was coming, but that couldn’t stop the jitters. The slight lack of circulation
from the band strapped on his left bicep was now a physical reminder of his new position,
which added even more to his already high strung case of nerves. He knew that this
moment would come, one way or the other. It was inevitable. Striding forward, he marched
directly in front of the troops on the parade ground, instead of elevating himself at a higher
level than them as the Minister had done previously. Taking out his wand, he incanted the
Sonorous spell.

“I’ll get straight to it. I am Commander Potter of the S.T.A.R Elite, and I will be the one
spearheading this operation. And ‘yes’- to your unsaid question- the same “boy who lived’.”

There were a few respectful nods of recognition, but other than that response, no one made
a sound. Good.

“We do not know the enemy’s numbers, neither their fighting strength. What we do know is
that he has threatened our future generation of wizards, and as a consequence, declared
war against us, the strongest military force in Europe. Here are his exact words.” Harry took
out a rolled parchment, opening it like a scroll.

“Tonight Durmstrang will be mine. I expect your forces would try and stop me. Tell your
commander that I will show no quarter.”

Harry let those words soak in for a bit, knowing that Rodulphus’ blatant arrogance would
incense them even further.

“He needs not warn us. We do not fear the Death Eater Rodulphus Lestrange. We do not
fear anyone who cowardly attacks our children, our families. We do not fear terrorists who
lurk in the shadows. His words are meant to anger us. We shall kill him for such insolence.”

In the corner, Malfoy grinned.

“Deployment is at 0900 hours, approximately one hour from now. There will be three forces
set in place, one at Hogwarts, one at Beauxbatons, with the majority of armed forces at
Durmstrang. I will lead the operation in Norway, Warren Jacobsen would command the
forces in France, and Jeremy Kingsley would set up defenses in Scotland. Your respective
commanders would give you your orders to co-ordinate all of our battle operations.

Tonight we will declare that no one, no one could threaten the ones we care about, and live
to gloat about it. Tonight, we will show the enemy that our strength is not to be laughed
at.” Harry’s eyes began to glow, much to the disconcertment of those who could see his
face directly.

“And to Lestrange’s direct challenge, I say this: we do not expect quarter, neither will we
show any. You have your orders. Dismissed.”

There was a simultaneous crunch of boots of thousands snapping to attention, all of them
completing the salute with a sharp movement of the palm facing outwards at their brow.
Harry saluted back, and then the soldiers dispersed to their respective units. Harry
immediately turned and began to make his way to the weapons depot.

“Quite a speech, Potter. Getting comfortable being in a position of power, are we?” Draco
Malfoy congratulated him as he fell into stride on his right. Harry said nothing, his new
boots making clicking noises on the well worn floor. “Going all out today are we?” he added,
looking at the full military kit Harry was wearing, complete with the golden band on his arm.

“You seem to be taking this quite lightly, Malfoy,” Harry hissed sideways at him as they
entered the arms depot.

“Come on,” Draco said easily. “Lances? Flak jacket?” he scoffed at the Aurors around them
lining up to receive their additional equipment. “Why are we even here? We-” he gestured
between the both of them “-don’t need this-” Draco pulled at Harry’s flak jacket with scorn.

“Protocol, Malfoy. Just take one okay?” Harry said, taking two S-12A Battle Lances from the
witch at the depot counter. It was a five foot long mahogany staff, polished and embedded
with a diamond mesh enchantment to make it nearly indestructible. At both ends were
arced twin blades, sleek and concave in its simple design. In the exact center of the shaft
was a groove about an inch and a half thick and fourteen inches long. Harry ran his hand
over the smooth finish of the weapon. When he was in Lionheart, his first impression of it
was a glorified (and deadly looking) tuning fork. After he had seen it in action, it had
completely changed his initial skepticism of its practicality. Both young men took up a
weapon and after giving it a few hefts to get a ‘feel’ for it again, they drew their wands and
with a semi-familiar ease, snapped their wands into the groove with a satisfying click.

“Heh- lock and load,” Draco grinned, even though this was more of a bother to him. “Just
another toy, if you ask me,” he added as he shouldered his weapon.

“No one asked, did they?” Harry retorted. Rebecca and the others were a bit ahead, waiting
for them at the Norway deployment station. The remaining members of the Elite already
had their Lances, and so did the five hundred strong that would be in their division. Before
Harry could go on to meet them, Draco pulled him back and beckoned him over. “What is it
now?” Harry asked irritably.

“Come and see. I think you’d like to see this.” Malfoy walked behind the depot counter,
showing the security goblin his ministry i.d. The goblin nodded in a knowing manner, and
Harry frowned as Malfoy led them back into the antechamber behind the store front. Draco
approached a high security door leading into yet another sub room. Harry watched carefully
as he placed his palm flat on the third block from the right of the doorframe. A soft light
emanated from the crack of the door, and it soundlessly slid open.

“How did you-?” Harry started, but Draco just smirked.

“Potter, you really don’t get it, do you? We’re the Elite. Do you understand what that
means? There’s always something - in any organization, the regular everyday schmuck can’t
see. Now, if you didn’t notice, you are no longer an ‘ordinary schmuck’. Carte blanche…”
Draco tapped his I.D. in explanation, then snapped his fingers in the dark room.

Harry’s eyes widened. In this room were various and numerous weapons of all sizes and
types. A twelve foot scythe was the first thing he noticed. It adorned the majority of the
wall in front of him, while wands of different size and shape lined the wall on his right in
racks, complete with name plates underneath them. A helmet from a medieval knight sat on
a dully glowing suit of armour, a lone spike on the forehead giving an unicorn-esque
attribute to the already peculiar item. A ball and chain contraption hung over two mounting
hooks above, and a blood-red sash lay furled haphazardly on a pedestal, deceptive in its
apparent tranquility.

“Forget those. Come on, are you blind? Look-” Malfoy pointed directly in front of them, on
the extreme opposite of the room sat a glass box on a four foot tall pillar. It reminded Harry
of a safety box for a very expensive jewel. Coming closer to the light overhead, the contents
were no longer lost in the ominous shadows in this secret room. In it were two pieces of
wood, something that he would not have marked notable in any way, except that for some
reason, he instinctively knew what they were.

It was the broken remnants of a wand. Harry’s blood ran cold. He didn’t need to read the
name plaque underneath it to know exactly who its previous master was.

After all, it was he who had broken it.

“Voldemort,” Harry whispered, suddenly talking in the same hushed tones that other
wizards used when mentioning his name.

“Yes, the Dark Lord himself.” Draco noted. Dragging his eyes away from the destroyed
weapon, he motioned Harry over to something that Harry could not have seen from the
front of the room. “And that’s not the only thing of interest here. I think you’d remember
this? From that very same night of the Battle for King’s Crown...” Draco showed Harry three
swords on that sat on the individual racks. A Japanese parchment was stuck on the glass
shelf encasing the weapons.

“Those were the hunters’ weapons…” Harry noted, feeling those nightmare images run
afresh in his mind.

“I’ve picked up a new hobby these days,” Draco winked. “This is Statham’s sword,
remember? I’m collecting memorabilia of all our battles. And what better than a fallen
opponent’s weapon to remember our glory days when we’re old and grey, eh Potter?” Draco
said, even though his eyes were on the broken remnants of Voldemort’s wand. Harry barely
heard him.
All he could think of was of once again holding a sword, the exhilaration of wielding such a
fine weapon. His eyes began to glow, a sense of poignant loss running through his veins.

I want my sword back. Dumbledore will pay for hiding it from me.

“Well? Go ahead. Take them. Keep what you kill.”

“Yeah- We’re the elite, aren’t we?” Harry said in a far off voice, wanting to take it himself,
but strangely enough, also not wanting to want to take it. “How do we get them out?”

“Music to my ears, Potter, music to my ears…I know a counter jinx.” Draco said, and began
to disenchant the security box. Pointing his Lance at the glass shelf, the parchment unstuck
itself, and vanished with a soft sizzling hiss. The glass barrier slid out of the way, and the
weapons floated out towards them. Harry just stood there, as if in a trance, staring at the
dual katana. “One thing that our good man Elias forgot when he devised these lances all
those centuries ago; no way to trace back the magic!” Draco chuckled in triumph. He
snatched Statham’s blade and sheathed it smoothly into his belt.

A thought crossed Harry’s mind. Did Draco plan this from the start?

“C’mon, what the fuck? Think we got all day? Take them and let’s go,” Draco said, walking
off. Harry just couldn’t well just leave them hanging there. After all, he was the one who
defeated the two assassins; so technically, this was more like the spoils of war…

Nothing wrong with taking spoils, was there? Especially when you’ve earned it…

Taking one in each hand, he felt a surge of lightheaded giddiness envelop him. He tucked
both blades into his belt and covered it with his cloak. Waving his hand, he closed the glass
shelf and hastened out of the secret room, trying to catch up with Malfoy who had just
stepped out of his line of sight. When the door slid shit behind Harry, Draco Malfoy stepped
out of the shadow in the corner of the room, a triumphant smile on his face.

“Quite useful- that replication illusion technique. He felt for his own trick far too easily...ah
well,” Draco said softly to himself. Procuring one of the Weasleys Wizarding Wheezes bogus
wands, he snapped it in two, and began disenchanting the security charm on his true target.

********************

“Ron, what do you think is going on?” Hermione asked as she peered out of the common
room’s window. They’ve being streaming in whole morning-”

Ron had a bad feeling about this. Immediate dismissal of all classes and students were to
remain sequestered in either their dormitories or house rooms? Sounds like they were
preparing for a battle…

“I don’t know, but it looks serious. I think we should put on our medallions, y’know, just in
case-“ he said hopefully.

Hermione huffed, but did not contradict him. Ever since both of them were inducted into the
Order of the Phoenix, Ron was always harping about wearing his medallion, basically
wanting to show off. Hermione had adamantly rebuffed him all of the previous times,
because Professor Dumbledore had given them instructions only to wear it when absolutely
necessary. Hermione secretly thought that he didn’t want her to wear it because she would
be able to sense Harry’s moods even easier, even though he was so far away.

She was getting frustrated, because even though she did want to see him again, right now,
she had to listen to reason. He was too unpredictable, too volatile, too powerful for her to
make mistakes like she did they met last. Once emotions got involved, Harry’s inner
struggle procured itself into something very dangerous. It was a battle between two
extremely determined individuals.

Basically, a bomb waiting to explode.

But, this was not normal. All of these Aurors on the grounds, and all over the castle
parapets; plus the lack of information from the staff all added up. This definitely was not a
drill.

She could feel it: something big was going to happen. Ron was right. They should put on
the Order’s Medallion of Courage.

“Yeah- I think you’re right. Let’s go,” she said, and both teenagers went up to their
respective dormitories. Hermione dug into her trunk, and took out her two most precious
possessions, the Halo of Life and the Order’s medallion. Draping the chain around her neck
she ran back down the stairs to find that Ron was already in the mix, showing Dean and
Lavender and some curious six years (namely Creevey and his rag tag group of ‘Harry fans’)
his amulet.

“Look, check it out- if you look closely, you’ll see a phoenix- yeah really wicked, plus I can
feel nearby order members’ magic, and there’s a slightly heightened protective aura, almost
half as good as a Protego charm-“

“Ron, cut it out. We should go and talk to Professor Lupin and Dumbledore. If they inducted
us, we need to step up and play an active role. We need to know what’s happening out
there.”

*****************

As soon as Harry ‘ported alongside the others at the steps of Durmstrang Institute, he was
amazed at the preparations already in place at just his first glance. Stasis traps were being
buried into the grounds at strategic points, and sentry Blast-ended Skrewts ambled
diligently alongside the Beastmasters on foot patrol. Glancing upwards, he noted that the
Ministry security officers were using combined Levitation Pulleys to hoist large catapults and
artillery launchers unto the roof of the ancient fortress-turned school. Before he had a
chance to blink, one of the infantry (technically ministry police officer) came forth and
snapped his heels to attention.

“Commander!” he saluted. “Marcus Schweinsteiger reporting, sir. Rank: Ensign! Man

number: Oh-oh-five-seven-three-two-two-”

Harry scowled. He also was a field soldier, just like the rest of them. It kind of irked him
that it just so happened he was also placed in command, and henceforth had to endure all
of this ‘commander this’ and ‘sir that’.
“At ease,” Harry said irritably, disliking the rigid ministry salute. “What is it?”

“Commander, this is the preliminary defense schematics on the immediate area, and our
scouts are doing a quick survey of approximately a three mile radius, sir!”

Harry opened the schematic. His first impression of it was the marauder’s map, except
without the names moving all over the place. Yellow x’s indicated traps, blue areas indicated
patrol paths, a white circle indicated artillery range and red showed the most probable
breach zones that the enemy would use to initiate their attack.

“What about the lake? Can they come from there as well?” Harry asked, knowing that
Durmstrang’s flagship, the Desceptre; used a magical entry way to transport the students
to any other fresh water lake in the world.

“Got that covered sir, the Whirlpool hex has been deactivated first thing at exactly 0827
hours this morning. “

“But that means that we would not be able to evacuate the students by that manner also,
correct?” Rebecca questioned. The officer gulped. Rebecca was quite intimidating in her full
combat gear, only a pair of violet eyes peeking out of a black scarf covering her nose and
chin. Her hood was pulled so low down her brow that you got the weird feeling that you
were talking to a phantom.

“Yes, sir! - I mean, ma’am..”

“What are our escape options?” Harry enquired.

“Sir yes sir! Er… let me check that…” Marcus flipped a few pages from his clipboard. “No
portkey exit or entry for approximately thirty six hours. Complete lockdown of all portkey
and apparation activity in-” he whipped out a complex-looking miniature sundial timepiece
“-exactly seventeen, sixteen, fifteen-“

“Alright, I understand,” Harry sighed, stopping his dramatic countdown. “So we’re the last
in then?”

“Affirmative, sir!”

“Non-combatant head count?”

“Auror Joseph Ulfalusi is on it right now-“

“The full complement of combat units is accounted for?” Harry interjected.

“Aye sir! Exactly five hundred and twenty seven accounted for- the S.TA.R. Elite squadron
being the last team in, sir!”

“What sort of pre-emptive warning systems are in place?”

“When the enemy begins his march, we’ll have a twenty minute headstart sir! If the enemy
approaches on foot our magic wards will pick him up at a distance of a mile due south and
east, while the mountains on the north and west cut down the time to approximately five
minutes. However, the rough landscape would make it difficult to move substantial numbers
through there-“

“No. He’ll come straight at us, from the front,” Draco interjected, a smug smile on his face.
“While everyone would be expecting a flanking maneuver, he’ll do the opposite and simply
announce himself, you wait and see. He’ll be here- straight up the main meadows facing the
front door. This will be the battlefield, I am certain. ”

“Warshire, Sol? What do you think?” Harry asked, watching Draco out of the corner of his
eye.

“For such a bold move, he’ll have something up his sleeve, he won’t go through all this
trouble if he plans to sneak around us, he’ll know what he’s getting into, and came straight
at us.” Warshire admitted. “I don’t like it. There’s something too- too- intimate about his
challenge.”

“Harry, you’ve got to be careful, I think this is all about him wanting to have a shot at you,
you know that right?” Sol DeFontaine added. “He did mention you in the challenge, not by
name, but it’s pretty obvious.”

“I know. If he really wanted the school, he would not have even warned us. It’s like he
goading us out into the open,” Harry agreed. “The four of you, go and make sure all the
defenses are in place, I have to contact Dumbledore and Maxine and make sure that
Kingsley and Jacobsen are in position and an update of their situation.” Harry nodded at the
four of them. “Marcus, come with me.”

Harry and Marcus walked a bit further off before Harry took him aside to have a quiet word.
“You’re previously from Auror admin, right?”

“Sir! Yes sir!”

“Is this your first combat situation?” Harry asked. Marcus nodded eagerly. “All right. We’ll
handle this. Just keep your head down, and follow your squad leader’s orders to the ‘t’, you
hear me?” Marcus nodded eagerly once again. Harry would have thought him to be a green
young soldier, but strange enough, he looked to be nearly five years his senior. It was sort
of crazy, but he just had to keep up the high morale of his men the best he could.

There was blood to be shed in this battle. And he couldn’t guarantee that all of his men
would survive. Something was very wrong about this. He knew it.

Lestrange, We’ll settle this tonight.”

************

The day passed in agonizingly long seconds and half an hour minutes. The excitement of
being deployed into combat had worn off hours ago, and the men were becoming restless,
nerves biting into them as they had the whole day to contemplate what was going to
happen. Harry was pacing near the edge of the freshly dug trenches, the S-12A Battle Lance
slung across his shoulders, both wrists resting on the long span of the shaft.

He remembered the drills, the weight of the weapon well. He had never used it, as these
were only issued in full scale assault operations. They were too big and noticeable to carry
around, for one thing. But in a skirmish, the weapon was designed to incorporate both a
ranged spell caster with full wand capabilities plus being an up close melee weapon, the
twin blades on both ends devastating to a skilled user.

The problem was, a vast majority of his troops were not battle-hardened wizards. Letting
loose a volley of curses from afar was completely different to actually fighting it out face to
face.

With a deft ease, he pulled down his left wrist from it’s resting place, and casually flipped
the weapon over his shoulders so that it was held securely in his right hand directly in front.
He held the shaft straight up, the lower end brushing the grass at his feet. Closing one eye,
he held the blade close to his face, gauging the accuracy and symmetry of the glinting steel
against the fading summer light.

Taking a deep breath, he gave in to the struggle. He wanted to hold them again, he wanted
to hold a real weapon. Walking resolutely back up the hill, he decided to make a stop at the
administration tent before he went to retrieve the twin katana.

“Marcus,”- he indicated that he could remain seated- “is there any more spare cloaking
material?”

“Sir, I think so, Let me check-” Marcus got up from his single desk and ducked into the
admin tent behind him. After a few seconds, he re-emerged with a shimmering cloth. “Last
piece, not enough to make a cloak though- our artillery guys used up the majority-“

“This will be fine-“Harry said as he took it, irritation pulling down the corners of his mouth
when Marcus snapped at attention, saluting him again. “As you were, soldier,” Harry sighed,
leaving Marcus standing there at rigid attention before he bent around the tent and was out
of sight. Retrieving the two swords wrapped in a dark pair of trousers he found a spot to be
alone, sitting down with his back to the thick stone walls of Durmstrang.

Releasing his wand from the battle lance, he began to slice the material into long strips.
Taking the sheath of one of the swords, he began to wrap the invisible cloth around the
blade, the dark polished finish disappearing before his very eyes. After one was completely
hidden, he did the same to the other. Using the little scrap from his handiwork, he
concealed the only visible part of the swords, the hilts, leaving just the pommel visible.

With a little more creativity, he used the fabric of the trousers a source of material to
transfigure two leather belts and buckles. Strapping them across his shoulders in a large
“X”; he buckled them so that they fit snugly across his torso. He picked up both concealed
weapons, and with a sense of finality, holstered them so that they crisscrossed his back.

Ah yes Potter, you feel it building as I do. The time is near. The craftsmanship is good, but
it is not the same. You want back the sword as much as I do, don’t you?

Harry closed his eyes solemnly. He wasn’t up to talking to his tormentor, but he hated the
fact that deep inside, he did want back Gryffindor’s sword.

“What are you doing?” a voice startled him out of his reverie.

“Rebecca.. I ..I was..” Harry stammered. He didn’t evens sense her coming, so lost he was
in his thoughts.

“You don’t really need to explain, I need some time before a job to, you know, be alone and
think about it. It helps, it really does, to calm the nerves,” she said easily.
“I never got the chance to think. It was always run for your life, or fight for your life. This is
the first time I’m actually preparing for battle. Sometimes, I still can’t believe it myself.”

“Believe what?” Rebecca asked, coming closer.

“That I’m talking to you right now. That I actually managed to get through it all.”

“Why should you be surprised? They don’t call you “The Boy Who Lived” for nothing!”
Rebecca teased. Harry smiled sadly.

Yes, the ‘boy who lived’. But those around him had to die. He looked at her. She had pulled
back her hood, and her scarf was underneath her chin. It was almost as if she was trying to
imprint her visage into his psyche right at the moment when everything was uncertain,
when everything he stood for was about to be tested.

At the moment when he was at his weakest, when his blood simmered in anticipation, while
his nerves clenched in trepidation, she was there cast her spells of mysterious glances and
unsaid desires.

She was a beautiful woman. And as much as he wanted to deny it, she did get under his
skin to the point that he did have feelings for her.

Life always had something up her sleeve to test him. And as fate would have it, the book
with the answers was always sailing into the horizon; the solutions to life’s mysteries daring
anyone bold enough to chase it.

What was he to do?

“Don't think about that. You aren’t going to die. You can’t,” Rebecca said softly, closing the
distance.

“How do you know?” Harry challenged stubbornly.

“Because my life is woven into yours now…” she explained vaguely. Harry stood there in
utter bewilderment, as she inched forward, coming even closer to him.

“What?”

“And I’m definitely not going to die tonight, simply because now I have something to live
for…” she said softly, taking his fingertips in her hand, standing so close that he could see
the miniscule flecks of deep brown in her dark blue eyes. “Harry…I ..I..”

Strangely enough, she smiled softly, and gently pressed her lips against his in a feather-
light kiss. “I believe in you. You will see us through tonight, and my brother will have no
chance. He will be stopped, once and for all. ”

“Rebecca,” Harry said uncertainly- “this...this...I don’t know what it is...but we’ve got to
stop. She, I well...you know...” he explained pathetically.

“Hermione?” Rebecca prodded.

“Yeah,” Harry said in an apologetic tone.

“She’s extremely lucky, you know that, right?”

Harry doubted that very much. He felt guilt well up inside. He had put her through so much,
they had gone through so much…

“The sad thing about it, I think that she and I are too similar for me to be envious. Both of
us know that there is something special about you, something that makes others wish to
give their all, something that drives them to go beyond the beyond, something that only
you inspire. You’re a hero. You’ve done so much, yet you don’t want credit for it. You’re
different, in a good way…”

“I’m no hero,” Harry denied. True heroes don’t have death on their side. True heroes don’t
leave a trail of blood in their wake. True heroes save lives, not take them away…

“You’re every goddamned-soldier-here's hero. You’re my hero!” she said with a passion.

Any sort of retort Harry had was instantly stifled inside his throat.

“And…as much as I want to be that special person in your life, I just have to settle with
being just another name … and that’s what killing me. I want you to be with me. It hurts
deep inside, because I’ve never had a crush on anyone before…” she laughed as she wiped
a tear from her cheek; trying to cover up the embarrassing fact that she was still a novice in
controlling her feelings. That façade of coolness she wore the majority of the time was
simply a mask she used after she came to terms with the abuse she received from her
father and brothers while growing up. It was better to hide behind that than allow anyone to
come close to her, to know what her 'family' had done to make her so vulnerable.

But now, she had found someone that had brought up very strong feelings inside of her,
feelings that was making her do stupid things, making her lose concentration. She vowed
her life to him a few days ago, and now those self fame feelings were making her openly
admit what she had kept locked away in her stronghold of secrets.

“I hope that, even if something did happen to me, that you know that my vow wasn’t an
empty one, and I’ve never felt what I’m feeling right now, like when I am close to you.”

“I don’t know what to say. I’m flattered,” Harry’s stomach churned once again with guilt.
She took his hand in both of hers, and hid her moist eyes by inspecting it.

“Harry, you will live for a long time,” she said looking downwards, tracing the lifeline on his
hand. The sun was setting under the horizon and the coolness of night was wafting in the
chilly Scandinavian air. “Your legacy will flourish, and your sons will be strong.” At this she
began to cry once again, a soft laugh escaping her lips. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me
all of a sudden. I’m a mess.”

Or maybe the fact that she wanted to be the mother of those sons- such a foolish notion
that it hurt to even think about it.

“Er, don’t worry about it… it happens to the best of us,” Harry said uncomfortably, his hand
still held in hers. She ran her hands around his torso, hugging him close, the side of her
face on his shoulder.

“You’re not going to die. Not tonight, not ever. I won’t let you…” Rebecca whispered, more
to herself than to Harry. At that moment, the sun had set in the sky, and a long bullhorn
rang through the night.

“Come on, the wards have picked up activity. Time to go,” Harry said with a firm
determination, letting her go. Rebecca just stood there, her legs feeling like lead.

“Wait!” Rebecca said desperately.

“What is it?”

“I-" Think I'm in love with you. She faltered at the crucial moment, and the words never
came. “I- I’m coming!”

****************

“They’re coming,” Sol said in a dark finality as he peered through the omnoculars. He
couldn’t voice what he was feeling inside. Tiny fires began popping into existence on the
edge of the apparition field, multiplying so quickly the specks of light began to resemble an
Elton John concert during “Candle in the Wind”.

Harry was also looking through his omnoculars, his face grim as he stood in front of the
ranks alongside the rest of his Elite. Two riders on broomsticks came zooming in, and they
swooped low to a standstill directly in front of him.

“They’re ‘porting in on the immediate outskirts. They’ve spotted us, a few warning shots our
direction. We didn’t stick around long after that.”

“How many?”

“Fifteen hundred, maybe more.”

“Fifteen hundred, you say?” Warshire said, determination in his voice. “That’s impossible.
We’d have known if there were so many wizards missing or hexed. He couldn’t have swelled
his ranks so quickly.”

“I agree.” Malfoy said softly. “There’s a trick we’re not seeing here. Potter, what do you
sense?”

The others looked at Draco crossly, but the wording of his question did spark inquisitive
looks at Harry’s direction. Harry grumbled under his breath. The fact is, Draco knew him a
bit too well.

“I sense a high potency of dark magic, but nowhere near high enough for those numbers.
Something is definitely wrong here, concerning the numbers of the true fighting force. And
their formation, it’s strange. There are huge pockets of grey areas, and then spikes of magic
power, then grey areas again. If this is the effect of the Fidelus curse, it doesn’t make
sense. If all of them are under that spell, then it should be consistent, but the Occlumency
is telling me different.”

“Commander!” Marcus was once again at his side. “Enemy forces are also approaching
Hogwarts and Beauxbatons in what seems to be a co-coordinated effort. Initial reports says
that a phantom force consisting of mainly Dementors and Boggarts are infiltrating
Dumbledore’s field. A full French Army contingent complete with their vehicles are
surrounding Beauxbatons. Maxine and Jacobsen say that they’re going to need
reinforcement a.s.a.p. or else the school would be destroyed. Kingsley and Dumbledore
report that they should have things under control, with the help of Ravenclaw.”

Harry thought for a second. Lestrange wasn’t focusing on Hogwarts, as seen by his paltry
attempt to take Dumbledore with expendable forces. Using the Muggle army against
Beauxbatons was unexpected, but if it was only non-magical forces, they should be able to
escape unharmed. However, the school will be most likely be destroyed. This meant that his
true focus was here, while the other attacks were more glorified diversions than a true
assault.

Either way, Lestrange was doing his best to keep Dumbledore, Ravenclaw and the Order
busy.

“Incoming projectile! Wait- no, it’s an owl,” Sol said, peering though his omnoculars. The
owl glided in smoothly, landing a few feet away, staring at its audience with its large brown
eyes. The owl’s wings slumped in defeat, and with a last pitiful hoot, it suddenly whipped its
own neck around full circle. It dropped dead, the legs pointing upwards at the night sky. On
one of the legs, was a note. Harry couldn’t believe it. He actually used the Fidelus Curse on
the bird.

With utmost disgust at the enemy, Harry swore. With a firm resolution, he pointed his
Lance, and the parchment zoomed into his hand. On it were only two short lines.

“Hello, Harry. Thank you for coming to my little party.

Regards, Rodulphus Lestrange.”

“Argh!” Harry cursed the paper and it combusted in his hands, his fingers igniting it with the
Infernus. “Who the fuck does he think he is?!”

“Careful Potter,” Draco snickered. “Don’t lose it on us just yet,” he chuckled. “Summers!” he
called out behind him.

“Aye sir?” he shouted back.

“Are they in range?” Draco asked.

“Soon they will be.”

“Assemble the two hundred I asked for on the level three. They know what spell I want."

Harry just glared at the oncoming horde. He will definitely kill him tonight!

“Potter, think you can handle 'em?”

“Yes,” Harry growled, his anger simmering below the surface.

“Good. I’ll give you the extra protection.” Malfoy raised his hand above Harry’s head, and
his eyes burned red. “Inferimandi Protus Demescier Dos!” Harry’s infernus ability spiked,
and his eyes burned red for a few seconds as the spell settled on him. “Archers, wait for my
signal, understood?”

“Aye sir!”

“Artillery?” Draco shouted at the fourth storey behind him.

“All Fifteen locked and loaded, cap’n!”

Draco jokingly began to ‘warm up’ Harry’s shoulders as if he was preparing between rounds
in a boxing ring. Harry angrily shoved them off and began to pace in front of the ranks, his
eyes never leaving the approaching horde. The ground began to tremble as the masses
marched forward, their battle torches progressing slowly towards the castle grounds proper.
As if they new exactly the range of the Ministry’s artillery catapults and heavy ranged units,
they came to a full halt, their staffs drumming the ground in a rhythmic pounding.

The two armies squared off, the drumming of thousands of feet and battle torches rumbling
for miles in all directions. The apparantly overwhelmed Ministry forces just stood there,
waiting for them to advance into firing range.

Rebecca surreptitiously observed everyone’s expressions. The front rank had a look of blank
numbness on most of their faces, a grim line pulling down the corners of their mouths as
they stood in rigid military formation, their lances shouldered against their deep red
uniforms. She could almost feel their apprehensions and doubts rising. Sol was chewing
down on his cigar, the crow’s feet at his eyes clearly visible on his weathered face. His hood
was pulled back, his eyes staring fiercely at the army nearly a kilometer away. Warshire had
a look of grave finality, as if he knew what the risks were, yet was not afraid to take them.
Malfoy stood there calmly, his hood covering a good look at his face, his arms crossed
imperiously across his chest. The only thing she really could see was a slight smirk on his
face. What was he up to?

On the completely other end of the scale, Harry was absolutely livid, pacing up and down
like a caged animal, his eyes never leaving the flickering lights in the distance. For nearly
twenty minutes he said nothing, just pacing up and down, and she could plainly see that he
was holding himself in check. After what must have been his one hundredth oscillations in
that ten metre span, he turned towards his mean, not even breaking stride.

“LISTEN UP, ALL OF YOU MOTHER FUCKERS!!” Harry shouted at his men. “HE’S DEAD, YOU
HEAR ME? THEY’RE ALL FUCKING DEAD !” he said in a uncontrolled rage, spittle flying from
his mouth as he pointed his lance straight at the enemy, his eyes to burning with a ferocity
to match his voice.

There was a deafening shout, and the Ministry began to pound their lances in the ground as
well, the roar resonating against the castle walls. Harry’s hair came alive as he whipped his
head to glare at the army again, feeling all of his magic surging to the surface. Letting it all
out, he screamed at himself more than anyone else, but you had to be deaf not to hear it,
even above the chanting.
“QUARTER? QUARTER?!! HOW DARE HE! I WILL SHOW NO QUARTER!” he shouted,
gesticulating wildly with his lance.

The ministry chant began to take on form, and Rebecca felt a wave of national pride swamp
her as the two syllable chant became more distinct to her ears..

-AH-

“WHAT ARE YOU WAITING ON??!” Harry screamed, his voice growing even more powerful
with each word, the sonorous spell automatically kicking in- fueled by his magic. “FUCKING
BLOODY COWARDS!!”

TER!

Harry marched back and forth in forceful strides as his head whipped in between his men
and the horde- curses escaping his mouth randomly as he vented his frustration and anger
towards his nemesis; Rodulphus Lestrange.

PAH-

The pounding of the horde escalated to a climax-

TER-

The Ministry forces stabbed their lances into the soft earth again and again, the opposite
ends sending sparks into the night as each and every soldier’s fighting spirit skyrocketed by
their Commander’s sudden bout of magically enhanced Tourette’s syndrome.

The shouting match continued on for yet another five minutes, until the horde stopped their
drumming, their torches parting to allow a figure to emerge from the darkened aisle down
the middle.

At this, Harry stopped, straining his eyes to see who was marching alone into the open.

“ARCHERS!” Draco commanded, ready to let fly, until Harry’s right fight shot up, issuing the
command to halt.

“Wait,” Harry said darkly, his control once again firmly in place.

“POTTER!” a voice echoed from the empty field. “COME DOWN!” he challenged, shooting up
a ball of fire from his wand.

Harry yanked Sol’s omnoculars from around his neck, so enraged that he didn’t realize his
own still hung on his chest.

“Who the fuck it that?” Harry asked no one in particular.

“He’s huge!” Rebecca commented, watching the burly wizard as he spit forward insults at
Harry’s mother, his pathetic army, his father, grandfather-

“ARE YOU AFRAID? IS THIS YOUR COMMANDER? HE’S JUST A BOY!”

“It’s not Lestrange,” Harry noted, his temper simmering down.

“COME DOWN, YOU LITTLE SHIT! LET ME CLEAVE YOU IN HALF WITH THIS!” the wizard
brandished a massive sword, easily six feet in length.

Harry began his pacing once again, his teeth bared in a grin. The Lance in his hand began to
emit sparks and glow a burning red as he once again began his self ramblings, his eyes
focused on the one challenging him.

“WELL LADS?! THIS IS WHAT WE’RE FOR, AH?!” Harry shouted, thrusting his lance into the
air. “HE WANTED FIRST, SO WE’LL HAPPILY GIVE HIM FIRST!” he screamed without true
intellectual meaning or purpose, without really caring what came out of his mouth. Draco
simply smiled as these men who were mere cowardly dogs this afternoon howled like an
army of drunken bastards. And without another word, Harry jumped five feet in the air and
shoved the scout off of his broomstick, mounted, and flew down to face the challenge before
the baffled wizard hit the ground.

“Malfoy, what the fuck is he?” Sol asked a few seconds later, his jaw dropping at Potter’s
sudden loss of control.

“Relax, and enjoy the show. Basically, we’re just the cleanup crew,” and with that, Draco
took off Sirius’ cloak and the ministry cape below that, folding it neatly and vanishing it with
his lance. “ARCHERS, REMEMBER! ON MY COMAND!”

There was a shout of acknowledgment, and Draco turned towards the front ranks.
“Reinforce each other’s shields, and advance after the first volley one hundred paces. In
position!” he screamed, and the rows of aurors on the third level crouched low, pointing
their lances at a forty-five degree angle.

“Potter, it’s time to start a war…” Draco whispered, watching the scene unfold below.

********************

Zooming at full speed towards the halfway mark in between both armies, Harry jumped off
the broom without even slowing down, the broomstick flying off into the enemy forces.
There was a shout of triumph as it was immediately smashed, the first casualty of the
battle. Almost a second before impact, Harry wordlessly used the featherweight charm, and
momentarily decreased his body weight to land effortlessly on the battlefield.

“Who are you?” Harry demanded but the huge wizard wasted not a moment and tried
immediately to kill him.

“AVADA KEDAVRA!” the horde roared in approval.

Harry calmly stepped to the side as the green bolt shot past, brandishing his Lance like a
throwing spear, his free hand targeting where the point would strike. Not his preferred
method, but at this distance, there was no need for a two handed grip, not as yet. When he
got a little closer-

“EXPELLIARMUS!” came the second attack, Harry idly deflecting the spell with a flick of his
hand. He was getting confused. Was this an amateur? His head was completely covered by
a pointed black hood, with only eyes visible through two tiny holes. A bulky, black robe
covered his huge torso, soft clinking noises indicating that he wore a sort of chain mail
underneath it. “Expelliarmus!” came another attack and Harry deflected this also, his
confusing building. Is this who they send to face him? Testing the waters, Harry
counterattacked, trying a simple spell.

“Expelliarmus!” he shouted, and a bolt of light shot out of his Lance. The enemy staggered,
but to his amazement, Harry’s own Lance flew out of his hand.

Seizing the opportunity, his adversary waved his two foot long wand and attacked.

“AVADA KEDAVRA!”

This time, Harry was caught off guard and had to dive hard to his left to avoid the curse.
Now he understood: the attacker was goading him to counterattack by provoking him using
half hearted attacks. But for some reason as yet unknown there was a sot of Mirror spell or
jinx on him, any magic he used would be reflected unto him.

Obviously he was at an apparent disadvantage.

Scampering to pick back up his Lance, he grabbed it and held it in both hands, brandishing
it like a staff. Interesting…his use of magic was now handicapped. Circling his opponent,
Harry nimbly dodged the following attack, then the next, and the five more after that,
testing his opponent’s patience. When the horde began to call for blood, the much larger
opponent threw down his wand and pulled out his sword, charging Harry head on, a strange
half human yell coming from beneath the hood.

Sensing that his opponent was losing control, he jaunted lightly on his feet, waiting for him
to come into range. The massive sword came down in a huge arc and he ducked and
jumped away from the first attack, ducking the horizontal continuation, then diving out of
the way of the final thrust. With a fluidity of a trained combatant, Harry swung his lance
down at the his opponent’s forearm, connecting with a sickening chunk..

Instead of slicing clean through the thick flesh, the blade only sunk a few inches deep and
stuck there, the giant of a man laughing off the pain and swatting Harry away like an insect.

“NO!” Rebecca screamed, her lance held at the ready. She began to advance, but Malfoy
placed an arm directly out to the side, effectively blocking her path.

“Don’t move a muscle,” he said simply, then resumed his surveillance of the duel.

Finally landing after what must have felt like being launched into orbit from a catapult,
Harry's head span as he violently coughed up blood. He had been hit hard a few times
before, but this blow rattled his chest so hard his feet screamed in protest.

It didn't add up. He was in a fight- yes, but for some reason, his battle instincts, or should
he say, Solidus’ instincts weren’t helping him at all. There was something strange going on.
Getting up slowly to his feet, he surveyed his enemy through different eyes. He stood there,
looming over him, laughing as he brandished Harry’s lance for his army to see.

“THE AUROR LEADER’S WEAPON!”

There was a loud cheer from the horde as he displayed it for all to see. Gripping it with the
his other hand, he yanked it out of his arm. After showing all what he had in his possession;
he roared in triumph and snapped the supposedly unbreakable weapon clean in two,
smashing it down over his knee. He threw away the broken pieces, holding his stomach in
laughter.

“ARE YOU THE SO CALLED ‘BOY WHO LIVED’? THE SO-CALLED ‘COMMANDER’? GET TO YER
FEET, YER BLOODY COWARD!”

Harry willed himself to his feet, his ears ringing with that crushing blow. If it weren’t for his
enhanced flak jacket, that strike alone would have killed him. But for some strange reason,
he did not feel compelled to fight this giant of a warrior. Something should have been there,
but it wasn’t…

“WHAT’S WRONG? AFRAID? YOU SHOULD BE, I’M GOING TO TAKE THAT DELICIOUS
REBECCA GIRL AND FUCK HER AND RIP HER APART WITH THIS!” he placed a huge hand
over his crotch. “HELP ME! OH HARRY, OH HELP ME!” he mocked, putting on a failed
attempt of a female voice. Harry felt his anger raise a notch. “THEN, IT’LL BE THAT
MUDBLOOD GRANG-“

Then there was silence.

In a the space of that moment, Harry had 'ported on top of the warrior’s shoulders, the
heels of his boots digging in the massive, meaty back. All of his weight hung from the
handles of the two blades crisscrossing right through his opponent's
neck. He could smell the sweat and blood on his enemy, his nostrils flooded with the smell
of death. For a full second they both just stayed there in suspended animation, blood
drenching the half-giant’s battle robes .

The horde grew silent as their Goliath fell to his knees, his hands flinching aimlessly as he
struggled to stay alive. With a grunt of effort, Harry yanked out the two blades, using his
legs to propel himself off the small of his back. Flipping backwards, he came to an
uncoordinated landing on one knee, almost toppling over from frantically shivering muscles.

The silence permeated the battleground, thick and heavy, as if waiting for a pin to drop.
There was a soft gurgling noise form the fallen warrior, and Harry strained his ears to hear
what he was trying to say. Holding both bloody swords at the ready, he circled his defeated
opponent.

“..a..ake..off..”

As it was a man’s dying request, Harry obliged him by removing his hood. What he saw next
would scar him for life.

“... I’m…sorry…”

These were the lasts words from one of his best friends, Rubeus Hagrid.

It couldn’t be put into words, the shock that paralyzed him. He didn’t scream, he didn’t cry,
neither did he tremble with remorse. He simply used his fingers to close his dying friend’s
eyes. With only a sad nod of farewell, Harry stood up, closing his eyes momentarily.

“ Lestrange, you have gone too far.”

**************

“Excellent,” Draco mused as he put two and two together. The size, the build, it was
unmistakable. The moment Harry hesitated on the battlefield; Draco realized that
something was amiss. But if they were to win, Potter would have to unleash all, and not
hold back. Now they were ready to battle. “Lestrange, watch closely. DeFontaine, this is
why I substituted in the Arrow spell into our initial strategy. We would need light. And I am
the only one that could provide it.”

“Light?” Sol said, his attention completely on Harry has he slowly got to his feet. “There are
thousands of torches there, what the fuck are you talking abou-“

Suddenly, all light vanished.

The moon- the stars, the fires, everything.

There were frantic cries of fear as the area was cast into complete darkness. Rebecca heard
Draco’s arrogant voice clearly amongst the mutterings.

“He is now ready.”

In the middle of the battlefield, two pinpricks of light emerged, and a tremendous growl
echoed into the dead silence.

“ARCHERS! GET READY!”

Rebecca gasped as the two specks of light began to grow brighter and brighter.

“RELEASE!” Draco shouted, and a hail of magical arrows and fifteen large boulders flew into
the air. Rebecca cried out.

“NO!” she screamed. “He’s still in there!” Draco raised both palms face up into the air,
enchantments escaping his lips in a soft tumble of words. When it was done, his eyes
snapped open, and flames erupted out the sides of his face.

“On the seventh day, God said let there be Light...” Draco clenched his fists and all of the
airborne projectiles combusted immediately, momentarily illuminating the battlefield. In
that fleeting moment, Rebecca could see the outline of a lone figure facing an entire army,
two swords held at his sides. The battleground became an inferno as the Rain of Fire was
called down upon the enemy's forces, their numbers rapidly depleting as continuous volleys
of arrows arced down on their heads.

Immune from the fire, Harry Potter screamed as he began to mercilessly hack through the
first wave of resistance, the twin blades ripping apart the ranks with deadly accuracy.

“...And there was Light-” Draco finshed the scripture as he watched on with rapt interest as
the ‘Boy who Lived’ became the Legendary Omen of Death.
******************

A.N.- whew! Long! I sat down and wrote this for nearly six hours, all in one sitting! Did you
like it? Thanks for reading!

Chapter 27: The Fall of Harry Potter- Pt I

[View Online]  [Printer Friendly Version of This Chapter]

A.N: This chapter is pretty violent, so it is not meant for the soft hearted.

**CHAPTER 27: The Fall of Harry Potter- Pt I**

“Didn’t expect this, did we Albus...” Randalf Ravenclaw grunted. Even though they didn’t
think this was possible, the impossible had indeed happened. They were losing. Two
hundred and eighty Aurors lives were lost trying to defend Hogwarts, and only himself,
Albus Dumbledore, and Jeremy Kingsley were left on the front lawns, defending the castle
walls with all of their considerable might.

Jeremy Kingsley’s seventh corporal Patronus charm was fading. His eyes were shut tight,
using all of his innate ‘Seeing’ magic to detect his enemies instead of looking directly at the
couple hundred Boggarts that, in his mind, represented the rotting corpse of his beloved
wife of nearly thirty years. Even with his eyes shut, the image was clear as ever in his mind.

Amanda…

“Remarkable strategy,” Dumbledore panted, his wand blazing unspoken curses as he tried
valiantly to destroy the boggarts assuming the shape of his beloved students. The Enflumeri
internally combusting second year’s Jacques Leverand look-alike, the Secumseptra curse
eviscerating yet even more Romilda Vane duplicates to pile on top of those charming Creevy
brothers. All of the dead boggarts and aurors alike were strewn over his school’s front
meadows. “Reducto Maxima!” he incanted, destroying a stubbornly difficult Ron Weasley
with clinical decisiveness. In particular, the seventh year boggarts were getting dangerous,
as each of their personal repertoire of skills was uncannily copied by the magic cloning
creatures. “An army of boggarts, taking the shape of whatever we fear most, and assuming
their abilities as well- Lestrange has delved himself deep into the dark arts.”

“Good thing none of them turned into Potter or Malfoy…” Randalf declared, secretly grateful
that none of them perceived those two young men to incorporate their worst fear.
Or, he should say, to incorporate their worst fear... as yet.

The seventh moon would fall in only two months’ time, and they haven’t made much
progress. “Riddickulus!” he screamed, changing on of his dead forefather into a clown.
However, the Dementors were sucking away any inclination to laugh, and he watched in
frustration as the clown manifested itself into yet another ancient Ravenclaw member. They
were getting nowhere, and at this rate, they’ll also be one littered amongst the dead.

“We need to get rid of the Dementors, Albus! And right now, I’m too scared to think up
another happy memory! It’s a cursed loop! Reducto!” Randalf screamed, his voice going
hoarse after being forced further and further back up the hill for nearly an hour. “The
Dementors’ stop us from using the Riddickulus spell, and the Boggarts prevent us from
remembering a memory strong enough to produce a proper Patronus charm! What is there
to gain by battling here? We should evacuate everyone!”

“Impossible at the moment. The anti transportation wards were reversed by a powerful
magi. Nothing can get out,” Dumbledore breathed, his face in grim concentration. How
could he have underestimated Lestrange’s genius? “Do not despair- As long as there are
those who will risk their lives to protect the students, we must not give up hope. Harry will
join us soon, he has never let us down before-“

Jeremy Kingsley used another repulsion hex, sending back another one of his decomposing
wives fifty feet away. Even with limbs broken, they resolutely got back up and began
screaming after them again, his wife’s shrill voice blazing curses upon their fading shields.
He inched back closer to his two companions, their backs to each other as the horde of fear-
inducing demons swarmed them from all angles. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
This was something out of his nightmares, not his real life! He resolutely set in his mind that
today was the day he will die. It was hopeless.

“Dumbledore, sorry to say this, but there’s no way either Malfoy or Potter can be here in
time. We can’t count on them. Who do we have left?” Kingsley said, the depression in his
voice directly proportional to the enclosing proximity of the Dementors.

“Those in my staff are the last line of defense inside of the walls. And other than that- ” An
idea popped into his head, and Dumbledore’s mind began working once again, using his
Occlumens ability to force out the fear out of his mind temporarily. Tearing away his
concentration from the demons surrounding him, he formulated a plan. “Wait- Randalf, how
can we forget?”

“What?” Randalf looked at Dumbledore as if he had gone senile, then around at the virtual
fog consisting of countless Dementors and boggarts swarming closer and closer. Glancing at
the dead littering the battlefield, he cursed, his face weary from almost an hour of fighting a
losing battle. “If you haven’t noticed, we’re not exactly twiddling our thumbs out here-” A
dementor swooped in close, but he wasn’t ready to die yet. “Expecto Patronum!” he
shouted, and a faint mist in the form of three young kittens* half heartedly shot forth.
“Looks like I’m nearly done for- Albus, what do you have in mind? Now will be a lovely
time!”

“There are still two particularly gifted members of the Order in the castle-“ Dumbledore said
grimly, another mediocre Patronus shooting out of his wand. The bird shot forth valiantly,
but was quickly subdued. Dumbledore’s vast recollections of happy moments were coming
to a swift end. It was either now or never.
" I’ll have to tell them what to do…”

****************

Remus Lupin was in the Great Hall of Hogwarts alongside the remaining staff members. He
could feel the pull of the Dementors, even though the walls of Hogwarts were magically
reinforced against Dark magic. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what it felt like out there.
His Patronus was on it’s third patrol round, each of the staff creating one at timely intervals
to make sure that they all kept their head on. His Artic Wolf was climbing all over the house
tables, sniffing here and there as if sensing danger nearby. In a few minutes it would be
Pooch’s turn. Her gaggle of geese would surely lighten up the morbid feeling creeping into
them. He wondered if they could hold out that long.

His thoughts strayed to his fiancé- and the baby that was going to be born anytime now.
She was on maternity leave and was resting comfortably at her mother’s home. How he
wished he’d live past this day.

To have a son or daughter of his very own…

He’ll send him or her to Hogwarts, where they would learn the ancient ways of magic. And
he would be loved, accepted...instead of being feared, and isolated ...like how he was in the
beginning.

Before he met James…

He looked over to his right, his gaze falling upon their two youngest members, Ron and
Hermione. He had to give them credit. Even though he could see the anxiety on their faces,
the both of them still stood proud, strong, their wands at the ready. McGonagall’s Cloak of
the Order was now passed down to Hermione, while Moody’s cloak fitted Ron as if it were
made for the young man all along. Remus smiled sadly. It was a shame to see them die so
young. They were talented individuals in their own right.

They knew what it was to face death, and not give up. Despite their tender years, there
were few others he’d rather have at his side in his final battle.

“Remember, the Boggarts would take the shape of our worst fears, and I’m told, have all of
their capabilities. Our only hope is to destroy as much Dementors as possible so we’d be
able to generate the levity we need to do the Riddickulus spell. Understood?” Remus said
weakly, his lack of confidence making the wolf vanish in a mist of soft light.

“Yes, we unde-“ Hermione’s reply was cut off by a desperate touch in her mind.

Hermione! We need you and Ron to help us!

“Professor?” Hermione whispered, her eyes focusing on the far wall for a few seconds. After
a curious nudge from Ron, she returned the gesture by giving him a meaningful look. “Ron,
we have to go outside and help them.”

“What?” Ron said, watching her as if she had gone mad.

“I will be your ears, your eyes. The numbers are too many Ron, even if we all did try to use
our Patronii charms, it wouldn’t be enough to stop them. I will give you a boost.
Dumbledore secretly knew what you and Ravenclaw were doing. He says you will have to do
‘it’.”

“ It ?” Ron exclaimed. Hermione nodded.

“Yes. ‘It.’ ”

A second passed when Ron’s face turned from utter bafflement, to a look of determination.
Clenching his eyes shut for a second, he drew fortitude from deep within.

“He’s right. I won’t die like this, I won’t wait in a corner waiting for something miraculous to
happen. Come on, let’s make something happen. Let’s go.”

“Wait- you’ll need this,” Hermione took off her Gryffindor scarf and handed it to him. “Cover
your eyes. Once you see them, it may be too late. You have to trust me.” Ron took it
without hesitation, blindfolding himself tightly. He smiled.

“We’re a team. I believe in you.”

Hermione’s self confidence soared. He trusted her completely, even to the point where he
was running into a battlefield completely blind. Taking out the Halo of Life, she took Ron’s
hand and led him to the front doors. Hermione paused as the darkness outside threatened
to devour the light of the fires inside the hall. With a firm resolve, she guided Ron outside,
shutting the huge doors behind them.

Professor, I’m trusting you on this.

*************************

Jeremy Kingsley had no more fight in him. With a last ounce of desperation, he incanted his
twelfth patronus charm. When it was eventually devoured as did all of the previous
attempts, he cried out. Falling to his knees, he passed out from exertion, the haunting
images of his wife cursing him over and over his last conscious thought.

“Just us two now, are you sure Granger can help us? It’s hopeless!” Randalf barked, his
Protego Charm taking the brunt of another attack from his dead brothers and sisters. Hmph.
Lestrange knew how to hit close to home. Damnation of not living up to the Ravenclaw
name was his worst fear, an army of dead schoolchildren were Dumbledore’s, and a cross
between a living (or dead) wife with incredible Mirage spells were Kingsley’s innate Achilles’
heel.

It was just his luck that these two powerful wizard’s worst fears had to be ridiculously
difficult to fend off, not to mention the deceased Ravenclaw heritage line breathing down
their necks made this battle a trifle more than the three of them could handle.

Damn Lestrange to hell. So be it. If he had to go down, he’ll go down fighting, he’ll have it
no other way….

Suddenly, a bright light began to shine at the base of the steps. He couldn’t hear the
incantations, but that power signature was unmistakable. Granger had just performed a
very high level of Divine Summoning. He knew she was good, but he had no clue she was
this good.

“What’s she doing?” Ravenclaw said. “We need some offensive spells! That can’t help us
now!”

“You’re correct. She can’t help us directly, but she can help a certain individual left in your
care, who in turn, would turn the tides for us.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, but if you’re talking about Weasley, it’s only been five months-
he’s nowhere near-” Randalf argued. As if on cue, a powerful voice began an incantation,
and the very ground beneath his feet began to shake. Dumbledore smiled, his face heavy
with fatigue and crippling fear

“Have… faith Randalf,” he wheezed, his mouth tightening in a grimace. He had to stay alert!
“I believe in my students.”

********************

Ronald Weasley sat cross-legged a short distance away from the front steps to the main
hall. Dementors and Boggarts began to assault his psyche, but he resolutely ignored them.
Hermione would protect him, he knew it. His hands rested on his knees, the Cloak of the
Order of the Phoenix billowing restlessly as magic built up from the very ground below.
Every muscle tensed in a rudimentary self diagnostic. There was no room for failure. The
fate of many rested on him, and even if he should fall on the battlefield, he would not give
up.

This is the oath he had taken, and now he must make good on that promise.

Hermione incantations mumbled faster through her slightly parted lips, her hands playing in
the night air as her fingers danced along the Halo’s perfect circle, the glowing object coming
alive to partake in her Summoning Ritual. Slowly, she levitated four inches off the ground
behind her companion, her hood falling from the crown of her head. Her eyes shone a bright
white light, and a luminance began to emanate from her skin.

“Asi Sali reminascier allerai truvoller Fortemus!”

Ron felt a spike of life energy surge through him, and then recede. It was now time. The
very air around him became heavy with magic, and pebbles and stray leaved began to fall
upwards into the sky. His eyes completely covered, he brought together his hands,
beginning a powerful incantation.

“From The Depths Of The Ten Tiers Of Magicke…“ Ron began, his brow creasing in
concentration.

Randalf froze at the sound, turning his head to look behind him.
“Through The Era Of The Ten Centuries Of Drought…“

Ravencalw couldn't believe it.

“The Call Of The Raven Would Be Heard…

Ravenclaw’s eyes burned, and he felt his lineage’s magic slowly leaving his body. His eyes
grew heavy, and he knew his time was near.

“From Blood To Blood…” Ron shouted, his magical ability skyrocketing to heights he has
never felt before. Down the hill, Randalf Ravenclaw collapsed, his wand falling from his
fingers.

“Grant Me The Sight Beyond Sight…”

It was done. His task was complete. It was now up to them to finish what he has started.

“…And The Strength Beyond STRENGTH !! ”

The blindfold covering Ron’s eyes was magically released, and his eyes snapped open, a
deep purple fire blazing in his eyes.

“DEXA RAMNIFERA! ” he screamed, and a bright light shot straight up to the sky.

With him in the epicentre, a ten-sided figure etched itself into the soil, the magical lines
glowing purple with an icy cold fire. Both Hermione and Ron remained in the eerily flaming
Decagram, their combined magic sending forth a ripple effect through the grounds. In the
middle of the Decagram, Ron stood up, his Hogwarts uniform changing into the black magi
robes that the Ravenclaw family used to distinguish their bloodline.

Randalf turned over on his back, his wand fading away as he breathed his last. His mouth
tightened in a satisfied smile.

“You did good, kid…” he whispered. Dumbledore immediately knelt down at his side, worry
etched into hsi features.

“Randalf?” he asked, shaking him “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Goodbye Albus. My work here is done…” and with that, Randalf faded away, leaving
nothing but a Ring. Dumbledore looked back up to the castle walls, and the purple fires
blazing near the entrance. A strong emotion gripped the center of his chest, and he stood
up straight, watching as the man destined to stop the Dark Sons of Magic materialize his full
potential. He had never felt such pride in one of his students before.

“GRYFFINDO PATRONUM ! ”

Sansa Ferri cried out from the cloud covered sky, swooping down with a mighty gust of wind
to hover protectively in front of Albus Dumbledore, her wingspan encompassing the entire
breath of the Hogwarts Lake. Dumbledore had seen a lot of things in his life, but this was
probably the only time he has literally been swept off his feet.

[… you are the phoenix wizard dumbledore, correct...? ] Sansa stated, facing the ghoulish
army.

Dumbledore dusted himself off, and greeted the mythical creature. “Yes, I am Albus
Dumbledore. I thank you for your assistance.”

[… amazing… he has really done it…] The Bird God mused, her eyes flickering at the wave of
Dark creatures swarming the grounds. [ …where did the boy get all of this power…?]

“Mr. Weasley has a very talented ally,” Dumbledore replied, a twinkle in his eye. “I’ve only
heard legends about you, Sansa. I’m honoured to actually meet you. Randalf has told me
precious little.” Sansa Ferri did not need to be told that her previous master had passed on.

[… i grieve alongside you, dumbledore… he was a special wizard…and i was particularly fond
of him….ah well….he has passed on the torch of the Ravenclaw heritage… ashes to ashes,
dust to dust…the cycle must go on…] Sansa flapped her massive wings powerfully, and shot
up higher into the sky. […excuse me while i deal with this…]

In a matter of seconds, Sansa Ferri vanquished all of the undead spirits and boggarts that
had no response against an entity so powerful. Her talons ripped at them, her intelligent
eyes stopping even the unfeeling Dementors of Azkaban as her paralysis gaze inhibited all
movement on the grounds. When she was finished, Sansa circled into the sky and swooped
low back to Hogwarts, alighting on the ancient structure with a grace uncommon for
something so huge.

She peered down her beak at the two young people looking back up at her, scrutinizing the
young man in the Grand Magi Robes of the Ravenclaw family line.

[…very impressive, young master…]

Ronald Weasley looked back up at her, a grim line on his face. There was a gnawing feeling
in his chest as he surveyed the dead Aurors on the ground. He couldn't save them, but at
least the students were safe. He had done it. He couldn’t believe it himself, but here was
the proof. He had actually summoned Sansa Ferri, well… with Hermione’s help, of course.

“Er..Sansa? I’d like you to meet a friend of mine, Hermione Granger. You should be
thanking her; she did most of the work,” Ron explained solemnly, pulling the awestruck girl
in front of him.

[…greetings, young granger…yes, i sense the ancient magic inside of your weapon…} Sansa
paused, her huge eyes surveying them once again. […very strange, this new generation… in
particular, you gryffindors are confusing…. the dark magi potter controls slytherin’s
shalingini, this young lady wields helga’s life-giving circle…and ronald here can call upon
me, the standard of the house of ravenclaw…i have never been more befuddled in almost
two millennia…]

“Is.. Harry… really ..a Dark Wizard?” Hermione blurted out, her fears coming to the
forefront.

[… his heart was once in the right place…but now it is clouded…his actions cannot be
categorized in any other way…i'm sorry..but he is no longer the man you once knew…] She
sighed. [...ronald..if you need to see for yourself…I can show you what young potter is
doing at this very moment…]

“How?” Ron asked, befuddled. Sansa alighted off the huge parapets of Hogwarts, and
landed nimbly on the meadows.

[…do you have an idea where he is now…?]

Hermione had overhead Kingsley talking via floo fire to the Aurors at Durmstrang. She knew
where he was. “He’s in Norway.”

[…very well…ronald, look directly into my eye, and i will grant you the sight beyond sight…]

For a few seconds, Ron was captivated as he stared into her huge eye. Then suddenly he
was drawn in to a vision, one showing exactly what was happening ni Norway.

“Oh my god…” Ron breathed, horrified.

“What? What is it?” Hermione asked desperately. Ron tore his eyes away from the vision,
and took a few steps away, holding his mouth in contemplation. They now had a very
serious problem.

“He’s… killing them,” Ron looked dip into Hermione’s eyes, taking her by the shoulders.
“Randalf’s right. We have to stop him.”

***************

Surrounded on three sides, one lone wizard was doing what he did best. Covered in blood,
nothing else mattered except vanquishing the enemy.

30…

Another green bolt of light shot across his path. They could not hit him so easily. Every
attack, every attempt, was telegraphed directly to his muscles, influencing his movements.
Before it was even close, he had already spun away, his right arm extended with a vicious
horizontal slash at three o'clock. The Killing Curse whizzed past, missing his back by a few
feet, and hit one of their own. He retaliated immediately, the blade in his left hand followed
fluently with his carousel twirl. It sang through the air, just in range to slit his would be
killer in the throat.
31, 32, 33…34…

The right hand followed as he continued another half-revolution, ripping open another’s
stomach in the blade's wake.

35…

Jumping high to avoid the Venutia curse coming from five o’clock, he vaulted over the
petrified man in front of him, kicking him in the back of his head. The hapless man tumbled,
and the huge man-eating fly trap took his life with a sickening Snap !

36..

On his decent, he brought one of the swords down right through the collarbone of the next
in line-

37..

Ripping out that blade, he hacked wildly to the left, splitting open the face of another-

38…

Deflected the stunning curse by crossing the two magically impervious blades together in an
“X” – then snapped his forearms forward, scissoring off the man’s arm then perforating him
through his middle-

39…

Yanking out the hunter’s weapons, he cartwheeled to the right and dove to the ground, four
more curses crisscrossing the space he just vacated-

40, 41, 42…

With a precise leg sweep, one man toppled into another, and he helped them to the ground
by thrusting the twin weapons upwards, catching the exact centre of their sternums, both
dead before they tasted the muddy blood of their comrades.

43, 44..

Diving forward at a shamelessly cowardly group behind those two, the first one in his path
was cleanly decapitated as he bounded forward, his magically-enhanced strides eating up
the ground en route for the fleeing deserters.

45..

There will be absolutely no quarter.

Embedding one sword deep through the spine, he released his grip on that weapon, and
swung the other with both hands, opening up a retreating back with a diagonal flash of
steel. Following his downward strike, he spun on his hunches, and threw that weapon at
another screaming man as he ran for his life. The deadly toss silenced him as it went cleanly
through the back of his neck, the poor soul falling flat on his face, the hilt protruding
straight up to the sky.
46, 47…

He calmly strode to both weapons, yanking them out of their victims.

"Who’s next?"

A large arc of space expanded as he strode forward slowly, his enemies retreating as fast as
the crowd could back pedal.

"Bring me Lestrange, and I may let you all live."

“NEVER!” a particularly aggressive warrior screamed, stepping forward and drawing his
wand. “ AVADA KEDAVRA !”

He continued his advance, and with a slight smile, brought his palm up. The spell hit his
hand, and slowly fizzled away.

“With a pathetic attempt like that, you do not even deserve to be called a wizard.
Allow me- ”

Harry Potter’s eyes narrowed on his, and they surged brightly.

“Die.”

The man froze for a second, then his eyes rolled back into his head, instantly struck dead on
his feet. With unnatural slowness, he toppled over into the mud.

The man closest to the mysteriously killed wizard took one step back, then turned tail and
ran back into the horde. His abrupt movement caught his attention, and his eyes followed
the scampering coward as he pushed his way deeper and deeper into the crowd. Lifting his
hand towards him, he pictured the man’s movement in his minds eyes, and it was done.

He clenched his fingers, as if gripping around an imaginary neck. Lifting his hand high into
the sky, the man screamed as he was lifted above for everyone to see- his fingers
desperately trying to release the hold on his windpipe. Squeezing, Harry’s hand jerked, and
there was an audible pop in the deep silence. With a negligent flick of his wrist, the man
was thrown away, falling on top of the rear ranks of Lestrange’s army.

48, 49…

Harry Potter looked up to the sky in the ensuing silence watching in fascination as yet
another hail of fiery arrows rained down around him, none missing a target as they
apparently homed in on their enemies with unnerving accuracy. Distracted at the glorious
sight, someone got a shot in. He only had chance to pivot towards the direction of his
attacker as the Reductor Curse hit him directly in his chest. He was blasted towards the
direction of the horde, his opponent using a gopher charm to emerge behind him from a
hole in the ground. He fell backwards, his magical flak jacket absorbing most of the impact
of that curse. Keeping the momentum of his fall, he kicked his legs up as he hit the ground.
Throwing his legs and lower body over his neck, he completed the back roll to come
smoothly to a crouching position. Two more raced in behind him, trying to seize an
opportunity. Standing to his full height, he didn’t even bother to turn towards them.
“Ava-“

“Cru-”

The next moment he was gone. A heartbeat later, each had a blade entering their spine,
impaling them through their chests. He looked at the lone wizard to have landed an attack
on him.

50…51…

“You have done well, my friend. I congratulate your skill." Harry sheathed both
swords, his hands hanging looslely at his sides. "My name is Solidus De Allesandro
Verineas Gryffindor. What are you called? ”

“Why should I tell you-“ he froze.

“I asked a simple question.” Harry said calmly from behind him, the tip of a sword
touching the petrified man in his back. “No need for back-talk.”

With a smooth motion he fell, his life gone before he could feel the blade puncture his heart.

Harry Potter watched this man fall, his face devoid of expression. The burning flesh raked
his nostrils, the decimated masses screaming in agony. Fire raged uncontrolled over the
corpses, arrows sticking into the ground like tall reeds. He was only one man against
hundreds, but he was not afraid.

Death could not take him.

He knew that now.

He was sent on this earth as an avenger, and Lestrange would pay for making him kill one
of his best friends.

*************

The ministry forces had advanced steadily, their artillery fire arcing harmlessly over their
heads as they advanced in a steady rhythm. When Draco’s foot touched the first arrow
signaling the artillery range, he stopped, and so did everyone else. He put his right palm in
the air.

“CEASE FIRE!” Draco commanded. Rebecca Lestrange felt sick, her nose burning from
smelling all of the bloody corpses that was once the front ranks of the enemy’s legions.
They were forced back, most moving out of the artillery range, or Potter’s reach, she didn’t
know which. Rows and rows of the dead lay there in the hellish blaze, the fallen bodies in
higher concentration on the ground in Harry's wake. The heat and smoke made her eyes
tear up, and she began to cough as the pungent air bombarded her senses. “SHIELDS!”

The first rank pointed their wands at a common central spot in front of them, and they all
cast the spell simultaneously.

“Protego! ”
In front of Draco, the air seemed to flicker. The multiple force shield was up, giving their
front ranks a strong protection.

“Take aim!” he shouted, crouching on one knee. There was a sound of all the second row
and third rows raising their weapons up to eye level.” On my command, the Reductor curse!
1-2...FIRE!”

A hundred bolts of magic sped towards the retreating army, those who were not properly
guarded were most like suffering crippling injuries and even direct loss of life if hit in the
head. Harry Potter just stood there, waiting for anyone else to dare challenge him as a hail
of destructive magic rained unto the enemy ranks.

..Good..good..young Malfoy. I have been watching you all this while. It pleases me that
your heart no longer holds weakness towards an enemy. Now, kill him now while you have
the chance..

No way. I am strong enough yet. I will be killed in his stead.

..Coward! This may be the best chance you will get!

This is not the time. I will do so eventually, but I need to keep Lestrange alive. I will have
the secret to this curse!

..Fool. You will regret not listening to me...

**********************

Harry stood there in the fires by his lonesome, a wide arc of dead bodies littering the
ground at his feet. “What are you waiting for, Lestrange? Send me your strongest,
so that I can give them death. ”

Lestrange’s forces hastily put up a similar force field, their army scrambling to get back
some sort of position as the second hail of Reductor Curses burned past, the searing magic
lacing down from behind him.

“You have put on quite the show,” a voice congratulated him. Harry’s eyes narrowed as he
searched for the owner of that voice. Rodulphus Lestrange strode forward, two hooded
figures flanking him. There was a bright smile on his face as he surveyed his enemy. “It
wouldn’t be a party if young Potter here doesn’t show up eh?” Rodulphus Lestrange clasped
his hand in glee. “So much death, such power, yes yes...we know of all of this...the ‘chosen
one’...the ‘hero’ of wizardkind…yes, yes...very impressive..” he mused, looking at the dead
littering all around him. “ You have surpassed even my worst nightmares, my dear friend. I
never thought there would be another who had a potential for killing as close as Tom’s, but
I have assumed wrong.”

“Are you ready to face me? ” Harry interjected, his stance changing.

“No, no, no..you got it all wrong!” Rodulphus laughed. The Ministry forces watched the
ensuing confrontation with more fear and mistrust than anything else, the hacked up bodies
proving a sight too sickly for some of the greener troops. In the momentary silence, there
moans and cries of the wounded drifted along the smoky air, cries of the dying leaving an
unforgettable recording deep into their psyche. “You asked for my strongest...and I
think...you should be careful what you ask for.”

Two hooded men stepped to the forefront, and Harry tensed. There was some very
disturbing dark and powerful magic emanating from them….

“Allow me to introduce the two strongest from my generation-“

The man on his right stepped forward, and Harry had to stare hard at his face to acutally
believe it.

“This man needs no introduction. Auror Frank Longbottom, miraculously cured of his
insanity,” he laughed in his private self joke, clapping his hands once- “and now my own
personal Heir of Gryffindor. Ah, what a couple decades could do eh, Frankie? He never knew
it, but now that he does...you know what I mean...the true heir, that is….” he giggled as
Frank Longbottom saluted Harry.

“Aye Ralphie. I remember you vaguely, Harry. Funny, I thought you would be taller,” Frank
commented, his eyes revealing a power that Harry knew could be a lot of trouble if it was
what he thought it was. He didn't have to wait long to have his fears confirmed.

Frank waved his wand with a complex spell, his eyes glowing even brighter than Harry’s. He
stabbed his wand into the earth, light beginning to emit from where the point sunk in the
soft mud.

“Leone Patronum!” he said calmly, his wand emitting a tremendous blinding light. From all
directions there was a deafening roar, and a massive figure came racing in from the
horizon.

The Lion Of Gryffindor raced in at tremendous speed, it’s four-storey tall body charging
powerfully through the army, sending bodies flying as it massive paws trampled or flung
away those in it’s path. Harry took a step back as bodies began to rain around him as it
rampaged through Lestrange's ranks, leaving a trail of crushed and mangled bodies in its
wake. It prowled to a stop right behind Frank Longbottom, pacing from left to right. The
hide was of a dark tan colour, while the massive mane was a deep, earthy brown. The claws
on the eight-foot high toes digging up the earth in a four-hole pattern. Other than it’s
tremendous size, the one distinctive feature that proved this was no ordinary Lion was a
huge ball of fire on the end of its tail.

Both armies retreated by a good amargin, giving the massive animal a wide berth. Only the
four combatants stood in the centre, the huge lion presiding over this very exclusive
meeting. The Lion of Gryffindor studied Harry diligently, his massive head looming high over
the battlefield. With an almost human-like gesture, his black eyes narrowed in on his with
unsaid recognition.

“Beautiful! And on my left,” Lestrange gesticulated, and the second hooded figure stepped
forward. “An animagus of exquisite skill- his lucky streak only matched by my own. The
Felix Omnimentia is quite strong in his bloodline, but you know that already, don’t you
Harry-boy? I’m so proud of myself. An experiment I’ve been working very hard on ever
since I found Tom’s Inferius research…” he chuckled. He had waited a long time to see this.
" With a few, um..minor modifications on Tom's stuff, I've amassed this army, which also
allowed me to have yet another v.i.p. in our little shindig.."
The other man pulled back his hood, and Harry was taken back, his eyes returning to
normal immediately as his heart began to double in speed. The face was eaten and pock-
mocked with rot, the grey tone on his skin could only indicate one thing- he was ressurected
from the dead. Harry’s head began to swim, and he felt faint. No…

“Oh, we wanted him dead for a long time, but his Lucky streak was too powerful. Only when
you were born and his inherited ability weakened, was Tom able to do it. Allow me to
introduce James Potter, one of the most powerful wizards of my time- and now back from
the dead with the help of my tender, loving care. Have fun boys!”

And with a farewell wave, he faded away into a fine mist, leaving both parties in a state of
shock. James stepped forward arrogantly, his smile a mirror image of Harry’s very own.

“Hello, my son. Are you ready to join your mother and I ?”

**********************

A.N.- The * means I got the idea for Randalf's patronus from Steve34 amazing "Hogwarts:
A History" fic. Rowena's younger sister patronus charm was kittens. It's just a small way of
saying " Hey man, great story." Respect.

a.n.2 - liked the cliffie? *evil laugh*

Chapter 28: The Fall of Harry Potter- Pt II

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**CHAPTER 28: The Fall of Harry Potter Part 2**

The rain was pouring heavily over the channel. The stinging raindrops attacked Hermione’s
face as she held on for dear life on Sansa Ferri’s back. The Bird God flew at full pace to
Durmstrang Institute over the clouds, her magical wings cutting through the air in powerful,
yet graceful movements. A mixture of fear and grim determination was etched on Ron and
her face as they both knew what lay ahead of them.

Having gone through so much in the early years at school with the menace of He-who-
must-not-be-named looming over their lives, it would have been rational to assume that his
defeat would embody their passage into becoming a fully-fledged wizard. Harry Potter, with
their help, had done the impossible and defeated the Dark Lord, not once, but twice since
their sixth year. He was a hero. One young man with nothing to lose, and everything to
gain, had become their champion for the light.

Tears began to run down Hermione’s face as reality reared its ugly head. As much as she
would try to deny it, the obstacle at the end of their seventh year would not be the so-called
dark lord, neither some obscure treat. As if in a cruel mockery of fate, their best friend had
become their enemy, and the task they had to overcome at the end of their seventh year
would be extremely difficult.
Solidus Gryffindor must be stopped, before Harry self-destructs and destroy all that they,
alongside with the Order of the Phoenix, had fought for.

“Hermione, we can do this, for his sake, for everyone’s. We have to,” Ron said solemnly, his
face buried in Sansa’s feathers. The wind roared in her ears, but Hermione could hear him
clearly because her thoughts uncannily mirrored his.

“I know.”

************

Harry Potter was struck dumb, his jaw dropping as the appearance of Gryffindor’s Lion and
his undead father robbing him of all conscious thought. Suddenly he felt weak, drained of all
his magic. He couldn’t believe his eyes.

“What’s the matter Potter? Scared? Ralphie always thought you were a bit over-rated…”
Frank Longbottom chuckled, his gaunt face a direct contrast to the eerie glow in his eyes.
Almost two decades of crippling mental damage did not sit well with him, and it showed in
the hollowness of his cheeks. “But he saved me, you see...saved me from that hell. I’m fine
now. Now I owe him my life, and I will do whatever necessary to vanquish his enemies.”

Frank grinned, and his yellowed teeth bared at Harry in an unnatural smile. “I’ll let the Lion
finish this off quickly, isn’t that so, Leo?”

The huge lion had stopped it’s pacing, it’s massive tail sending blazing cinders to alight on
the burning fields. As if not interested in the least to Longbottom’s ramblings, he sat down
regally on his hunches, his back straight, his massive chest and mane proudly on display.
He stared hard at both of the Potter wizards.

“NO.”

Frank Longbottom froze, not believing what he was hearing.

“What? What do you mean- ‘no’?” he turned, facing the huge mythical creature. As if
ordering his obedient servant, he pointed in Harry’s direction. “What are you on about? Kill
him!”

“DO NOT PRESUME TO DICTATE TO ME, HUMAN. I DO NOT OWE YOU ANYTHING.”

“I summoned you to this battle! You must obey!” Frank shouted, his patience growing thin.

“YOU HAVE THE BLOOD TO CALL UPON ME, HOWEVER I HAVE NEVER SWORRN LOYALTY TO
YOU, NEITHER DO I WISH TO OBEY YOUR COMMAND. YOU ARE UNDER A CURSE, I SENSE
IT IN YOUR MAGIC.”

“What?” Frank said, bewildered. “You can’t do that! I’m not under any curse!”

“FROM HERE ON, I DICTATE WHAT CAN AND CANNOT TRANSPIRE HERE. THE ORIGINAL
HEIR OF GRYFFINDORRE LIVES WITHIN HIM, AND I WILL NOT TURN AGAINST THE FIRST
SON OF GRYFFINDORRE.”
The huge lion took to its feet and walked calmly into the center of the battlefield. He
scanned the Auror army, his great eyes marking each and everyone in turn.

“ LONGBOTTOM, I WILL PROPOSE AN ALTERNATIVE. I WISH TO SEE A GRAND FIGHT- A

DUEL TO THE DEATH, IF YOU WISH. IF THE INFERI WINS, I WILL DEFEAT ALL OF HIS
ENEMIES. IF YOUNG MASTER SOLIDUS HERE WINS, I WILL UNITE WITH THE FIRST SON OF
GODRIC GRYFFINDOR, AND BE UNDER HIS COMMAND.”

At that moment, one of the Aurors fainted. Frank Longbottom swore loudly in denial.

“NO! I won’t tolerate this! Rodulphus wants him dead! I order-“

There was a negligent swoosh of the Lion’s tail and Frank Longbottom was no more,
crushed under the tuft of burning fur at the end. The Lion of Gryffindor did not even glance
in his direction.

“INSOLENT FOOL. LET THIS BE A WARNING! NO ONE IS TO INTERFERE!”

James Potter turned towards Longbottom’s crushed remains. He shook his head in mild
amusement. “Stupid, stupid boy. Always had to be rattling off when he couldn’t back it up."
He shrugged, then turned to face his young opponent. " Well, junior? Let’s see what you’re
made of!” James cheeked, the corner for his mouth turning up in an exaggerated smirk. He
pointed his wand almost flippallty.

“Ingreasium carpulus!” he incanted, and Harry froze, a sensation of being doused in a

slippery fluid cascading over him. Harry was snapped out of his amazement, and began to
move, only to suddenly collapse in the bloody soil.

“You’re a combat type magi, I see. These fools, trying direct curses on a Paladin class
wizard,” James said easily, striding forward. “Easier to just limit your maneuverability, isn’t
it?” he chuckled as Harry tried to prop himself up again and again, only to slip and fall under
his own weight as neither his hands nor legs could maintain a grip on the soft grass.
“Simple. I thought you were supposed to be good? I’m a mere animagus, but I could have
taken you in my sleep-”

James grinned, and began to trot the short distance between him and his son. Picking up
speed, he waved his wand and the space of a few strides had transformed into his Stag
form. Harry froze, literally a deer caught in a deer’s headlights. The powerful animal
charged and Harry felt his collarbone and a couple ribs break as the antlers rammed into
him, one of them puncturing his chest with a shallow, blunt wound. He screamed in pain as
he flew a few feet into the air, landing hard and rolling a few times in the muck. His vision
tumbled over and over, a haze of pain searing through him as he heard the powerful hooves
pounding in the ground, coming closer and closer with each thundering sound.

He got his arms up just in time as the next charge came in, and he could feel his forearm
snap as his father charged him again, the antlers puncturing his left shoulder and bicep as
he protected his face. Harry Potter screamed as he was hoisted into the air, momentarily
impaled through his left arm. With a desperate shove against the Stag’s head with his right
arm, he unhooked his crippled limb from the edge of the blunt-tipped antlers. Falling to the
ground with a sickening thud, he screamed out as the pain from his shattered arm
intensified.
His father reverted back to his human form, standing proudly over his only son. “How easily
you fall. Are you that afraid of me?” He kicked his damaged left side cruelly, making Harry
scream out again, tears running down his face.

“Dad…please…” he croaked, blood leaking form his lips.

How can I fight him?…I’ve always wanted to be able to see him…speak with him…

“Ha! You’re not my son. My son would never cry like you, my son would stand to his feet
and fight!” he kicked him again, but Harry rolled over, taking the brunt of the kick in his
back. James cursed, feeling cheated out of having a challenge. Ralphie got him back into
this world, and if he had to do him a favour here and there…why not? “I’ll show you
something that I always liked in school-“ he pointed his wand, and a there was a flash of
light. Harry was immediately suspended in midair, hanging by his left ankle.

“I’ve always been interested in muggle games. Do you know what a Piňata is?” James
conjured a blindfold, and a bludger’s bat. Slowly, he wrapped the blindfold around his eyes,
and hefted the bat with his right arm. “Okay. Now I spin myself a few times…like this...”
James twirled a couple times, counting softly. Harry noted with defeat that his vision was
fading, the blood rushing to his head. He needed his wand!

“One..two...TEN!”

Harry raised his one good arm in reflex as James swung with all his might. He absorbed the
bone splintering blow with a howl, his body swinging wildly around as the force spun him all
directions. His span of vision encompassed all directions as the Lion, then his blindfolded
father, the ground, the sky, the horde, his own badly bleeding arm, everything became a
blur of red pain. He was blacking out, and his body couldn’t take this anymore. Another wild
swing cought him in his back, and he fell again, the Levicorpus spell fading away.

“It’s not fun any more. Too easy. I think I’ll just end this little fracas here." he pointed his
wand fiercely this time, his expression contorting into total hate.

"Avada-" he froze mid spell, putting his knuckles to his chin in contemplation. "No. Wait.”
James stared at his young son. “You’re supposedly impossibly hard to kill. Voldemort killed
me, but he couldn’t kill you. Better not take any chances. A joke twice is never nice, so I’ll
do this the muggle way. Just making sure there is no magic feedback this time around,
junior.”

Kicking him again, he shoved Harry’s broken body to lay face down, planting a foot on the
centre of his back, effectively claiming victory. James suddenly realized everyone was
watching, and proudly removed the hood from over his hair. He began whooping his arms,
the Horde’s confidence growing as they could clearly see that one of theirs had defeated the
Auror Commander. A chant began to grow and James ran his hand through his hair, as if
preparing to do something that he thought was a waste of time, but had to do anyway.
Taking out one of the Hunter’s blades from the invisible sheaths on his back, he hefted its
weight, inspecting the steel. Taking a handful of Harry’s long dark hair in a cruel grip, he
pulled back, exposing his son’s bloody face and vulnerable throat.

“FOR LESTRANGE!” James cried, the sword held high in the air.

**************
Harry couldn’t see anything. His vision had blacked out, all of his limbs shutting down in a
haze of damage. He could vaguely feel something heavy on his back. Then, voices, lots of
faraway voices….

Ouch. Someone was trying to rip out his hair…

Harry Potter’s vision swirled before his eyes once again, fires and smoke clouding the
fleeting moments when light actually got into his eyes. Somebody was on their knees,
crying...screaming. He felt blood building up into his throat, making him choke. His back
arced painfully, and his broken ribs burned in protest to the movement.

Well sorry ribs, too bad. I can’t use arms… they say they are broken too.

“HARRY!!” a female voice screamed.

That same person, on all fours…calling him…no begging?

“DON’T GIVE UP! DO SOMETHING !”

“Oh, is she someone important to you?” a voice wafted in from above him, the pull on his
roots even more pronounced with those remarks. “Are these soldiers...this school…
important to you?” He felt his head yanked back, and he stared groggily into an older,
rotting version of his own face.

“You thought you could protect them?” James laughed. “Like how I tried to protect your
mother and you? Only a fairy tale, boy. In the real world, the weak will lose!” he snarled,
and spat in his face. Harry’s eyes closed in disgust, a strong emotion swelling up in him.

“You’re not going to die !” Rebecca Lestrange shouted. “I ORDER you not to die, do you
hear me soldier ?!”

No… she’s right. I can’t die...not like this. Everyone’s counting on me…

As he felt the blade of the hunter’s sword drawing blood against his neck, he reopened his
eyes, and this time they began to pulse with a white luminance.

“Sirius, I need your help...”

James hesitated on hearing his best friend’s name. “What did you just say?” he asked, his
eyes opening wide. Harry felt all pain vanish, and all sensations disappear. He no longer felt
any sort of attachment to his enemy. The bottom line was if he lost, his comrades would
die, and Lestrange will win.

Under no circumstances could he allow this. With his last concious thought, he cast
judgment on his enemies with a very faint incantation.

“Morbidus patronum.”

**************

Draco Malfoy knew not to interfere. Not even he could challenge the Lion of Gryffindor, and
it was blatantly obvious that he did not make idle threats. He eradicated Longbottom
without a second thought. But when he saw Potter’s eyes reopening with that strange, dark
magic, he knew things were going to get serious.

“EVERYONE! CLOSE YOUR EYES!” He screamed desperately, feeling that crippling sensation
hover in the air. “DO NOT LOOK DIRECTLY AT ITS EYES, NEITHER INTO THE
COMMANDER’S! DO SO AT THE RISK OF YOUR LIFE!”

Malfoy dipped his eyes, his limbs beginning to tremble as he stared resolutely at his feet.
“Jesus Christ, this is not the fucking place to be right now…”

The Grim walked slowly towards James Potter, the glowing eyes of the huge black dog
staring directly into his own. James released his grip on his son’s hair, backing away in
shock. Harry fell face first into the bloody fields, the remainder of his strength disappearing
with that final act of defiance.

“pp-Padfoot?” He breathed, his rotting face contorting into an expression of horror. The
Grim continued it’s steady prowl, stopping momentarily to sniff at Harry’s dark head. When
it was finished, it growled; a low, ominous grumble reaching everyone’s deepest psyche.
Draco felt faint, and he heard a few others falling as they passed out from the immense pull
on their very life. Peeking, he realized on Rebecca seemed to be unaffected, and was staring
directly at the amazing scene playing out in the centre of the battlefield.

“Lestrange!” Draco hissed. “Do not look at it!” he ordered again. Rebecca took a few
stepped forward, a serene expression on her face.

“It cannot hurt me- I have intertwined my life with his. If he dies, I will die. But if the Omen
death itself cannot affect him, it cannot affect me. That is the root of our family charm.
Whatever he wants, I will give it to him. My loyalty lies forever with him...that’s my
unbreakable vow, Malfoy. I’m going down to help him now.”

“What? Are you mad? The Lion-” Draco reminded her, even though it should be plainly
obvious-

“Is gone. So is the dog. It’s over,” she said softly, walking down the slight incline to the
depression in the centre. Draco Malfoy opened his eyes, and nearly wished he hadn’t.
Countless bodies, basically a sea of dead, littered the entire battlefield. And in the centre
depression where it was relatively empty, lay two bodies.

Father and son Potter lay face down, their bodies an eerie position such that both of their
feet were angled towards each other in perfect line, basically a halfine dividing the winners
and losers of this gory massacre.

“IS THERE ANYONE INJURED?” Malfoy shouted, turning around and facing the Auror army.
When everyone shook heir head after completing a self inventory and a verbal assessment
of the others close to them, Draco blanched. It seems he wasn’t kidding when he told
DeFontaine that they were just here for the cleanup process. He took out the military
enhanced Skeeter Bug and placed it in his ear.

“S.T.A.R. member Malfoy to base- Over.”

“Schweinsteiger. What’s the status, soldier?” Marcus answered, a hint of relief in his voice.
“Marcus, contact Kingsley. Report that we are victorious, and that Durmstrang is safe.”

“And the number of prisoners?” he enquired.

“None. They’re all dead.”

********************

Nearly an hour later, Draco Malfoy was walking amongst the dead, looking for something
very important. All of the aurors here were on cleanup duty, excepting four medics and
Rebecca Lestrange. Pretending to be at least interested in the identification process, he
grinned widely as he found what he was looking for. A token of battle, per say.

Crouching low, he cleared the mud off of a broken S-12A Battle Lance. The only broken one,
to be precise. Making sure no one was watching, he took the broken wand pieces from it’s
core, pocketing it alongside the broken remnants of Voldemort’s wand.

Excellent- now he had both sister wands of the same phoenix: the weapons from the Dark
Lord Voldemort himself, and the Boy Who Lived; Harry Potter. Getting to his feet casually,
he smiled in triumph.

Ah, this prize… a worthy talisman to remember his victory. He was interrupted from his
reverie when a man from the Ministry forces came up to him.

“Sir,” Emmanuel Finnigan addressed respectfully.

“Yes?”

“Initial report is in, sir. Five hundred and thirteen wizards bagged and tagged, plus two
thousand, one hundred and fifty three Inferi corpses identified and disposed of.”

“Excellent. Finnigan, what I want you to do now is-” Draco broke off, jerking his head to the
sky. A tremendous magical presence was coming. “Alert all units, something big is coming!”
he snapped, and his eyes blazed alive. “Step back,” Draco ordered.

“Sir?”

“Alert all units I said!” Draco’s eyes burned alive, and a ring of fire formed around his feet.
“I’m going to check this out-” Without another word, his arms ignited, and he shot off into
the air.

Ron and Hermione were coming to the end of their impromptu journey, Sansa Ferri had
reached Durmstrang. There were small pockets of fire all over the grounds, and smoke
congested the clear night sky. As she circled in from high above for landing, Draco Malfoy
sensed the unnatural magical presence and looked up, his eyes narrowing as he tried to
identify the massive bird.

“What in Slytherin’s name is that?” He said to himself as he gained height to confront the
incoming bird.
**************

[…we’re here…and we’ve been spotted…] Sansa said calmly.

“Spotted?” Ron blurted. “Who?”

[...the dark magi Malfoy has hailed our presence…look…]

“Halt!” Draco shouted, basically a burning speck against the background darkness. “Who
goes there?”

[…shall I remove this obstacle…young master…?]

“No, we’re not in the kill on sight business. Slowdown, and let us talk to him,” Ron said.

[…very well…]

“MALFOY!” Ron shouted.

“Weasley? Granger?” Draco said, quite astonished. “What is this?” Malfoy commanded,
coming eye to eye with the massive bird. Then it clicked. Hmph. Don’t tell me…

“This here is-” Ron began. Draco raised a palm, indicating that no words were necessary.

“Yes….I know now,” he sighed. “…Ravenclaw’s summoning spell?” Draco offered.

“Yeah-”

“Very well, I thought I’ve seen everything today, but this one takes the cake. Two
Gryffindors on the Bird God’s back. Why are you here anyway?” Draco asked lazily.

Too stop you.. Ron thought, but changed his tune wisely before he started a fight.

“We’re here to offer assistance to Harry,” Ron said, Hermione nodding at once.

“A bit late aren’t we?” Malfoy snickered. “As if this bird could stop the Lion of Gryffindor-”

At this Sansa Ferri’s eyes opened wide. […leo was here..?]

“Yes, he was for a while. Interesting fellow, I must say,” Draco mused. “Potter is not down
there, by the way,” he added offhandedly.

There was a few seconds of silence in the night air before Ron realized what was happening.

“Well? Aren’t you going to tell us?!” he blurted out.

“It is confidential ministry business,” Draco stated, his trademark smirk visible even in this
poor light. He was quite at ease having a conversation in midair, even with Sansa Ferri
breathing down his neck. He wasn’t frightened, not one bit. “You’re not cleared for that sort
of information, Weasel King.”

“Why.. you cocky bastard!” Ron started, but Hermione put a restraining hand on his arm.
Pointing her wand, she simply cast a charm on Malfoy.

“Leglimens!”

Malfoy’s eyes went unfocused for a moment, then he shook it off. He glared angrily at
Hermione. “What did you do?”

“Ron, Harry’s been severely hurt. He’s been sent back to St. Mungo’s,” Hermione said
easily. “Malfoy, is there anyone else seriously injured here?” Draco just glared. “Answer –“
Hermione began, then suddenly a voice blared inside of his head.

THE SIMPLE QUESTION, MALFOY!

Draco put his hands against his ears, screaming as the pain rang through his head. “No..
no..No one! Get the fuck out of my head, Granger,” Malfoy threatened, his eyes flaring with
the Infernus. Sansa clicked her beak.

[...be wary who you threaten, young man…] Sansa said softly, and turned away, her
massive wings gliding on the currents.

Malfoy just hovered there, his fury building as they flew away. Just you wait, Granger. Just
you wait…

*****************

Sherry Diggory was reading the initial reports form the battle lines.

“Are you sure this information is correct?” she demanded of Jeremy Kingsley. He had
apparated back to the Military base on the outskirts of Lionheart as soon as he was able.

“Yes.”

“Nearly three hundred aurors dead, two hundred and eighty from Hogwarts and twenty from
Beaxbatons, but none under Potter’s command, where they faced nearly three thousand of
the enemy?”

“Well, Potter himself was injured, but other than that, those reports are correct.”

“Merlin’s beard…” Sherry exclaimed. “Amazing, if not the most utterly ridiculous statistics
I’ve ever heard.”

“Commander Potter can summon the Grim, Madame Minister. This is not something we
have taken into consideration. He is highly dangerous, even more dangerous than we
thought possible.” Sherry Diggory digested this piece of information, and then an idea came
to her head. This was her chance!

“Where is he?”

“He’s being treated at St. Mungo’s.”

“I want his memories properly modified this time. Make it such that his sole purpose is to be
a loyal soldier for the Ministry. With his ability, I will bring all of those Death eaters to
justice, once and for all. See that it is done, Kingsley.”

“Madame-” Jeremy protested, but was cut off abruptly.

“You have your orders,” Sherry cut him off, a stony expression on her face. “You are
dismissed, Admiral.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jeremy said indignantly, and walked off.

*****************

Ron and Hermione reached back into London with the rising sun. Landing in Hyde Park not
to far from St. Mungo’s, Sansa Ferri disappeared and both of teenagers ran on foot towards
the Ministry building. As they walked inside, Ron brushed against a man wearing a high
ranking military uniform. There was a moment of recognition between Hermione and
Jeremy Kingsley but neither of them stopped to have a conversation.

“Ron?” The girl at the front desk said in surprise. “What’s with the robes?”

“Never mind that, where’s Harry Potter?”

As his name was mentioned, the receptionist expression clouded over and she put on a cool
façade. “I’m sorry, Mr. Potter has not been admitted into this facil-“

“Leglimens!” Hermione halfway closed her eyes, and then muttered the short term memory
erasing charm. “Come on, I know where he is,” Hermione said, already walking off. Ron had
to blink a few times to realize what had just happened there.

“Jeez, Hermione, you’re scary sometimes.”

“C’mon Ron!” she ordered, and he trotted to catch up.

A few stunners and some short term memory charms later, Ron and Hermione were walking
into the restricted Military section, the unconscious Auros on guard duty were now sleeping
on their feet in a cramped broom closet. Just as they reached Harry’s room and were about
to enter, a shadow moved so quickly Ron didn’t have a chance to respond when a blade was
pressed against his neck, a wand pointed directly at Hermione’s back.

“Put down your wands, the both of you, now,” Rebecca Lestrange hissed from behind Ron’s
neck, the top of her head barely clearing Ron’s shoulder. Only when Hermione dropped her
wand and turned around did she recognize the two of them. “What are the two of you doing
here, attacking Ministry staff to boot?” She snarled, not trusting if they were under the
Imperius curse or not. Depending on their initial response, she’ll have to render them
unconscious as quickly as possible.

“Oh. You,” Hermione snarled. “For your information, Lestrange-” She drawled on the name-
“We’re here to help our friend, well, my boyfriend for that matter. You can let him go, we’re
not under the Imperius curse if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Rebecca grunted, and let Ron go, her blade disappearing without a trace in the folds of her
robes. “Well, Miss Granger, seeing as you’re here to help, I suggest next time not to go
about knocking people out or invading their privacy as a means of doing so,” Rebecca said
evenly, her eyes hardening. “Some may think you’re here for ulterior motives.”

“They say he’s badly injured?”

“Nothing the healers here can’t cure,” She said easily.

“Can I see him?” Hermione asked sweetly. Rebecca thought about it for a second, then
nodded. Granger had saved her life.

“Yeah, of course you can see him, just don’t let anyone see you. I’m going to revive the two
you guys took out.” She watched Ron for a moment. “You’ve got a good arm there,
Weasley. You should come check us out.”

Ron said nothing, but watched her as she marched down the hall to find the two guards on
duty.

“Come on, we’ve got to get him out of here,” Hermione said simply, and opened the door.

“ ‘Get him out’? What are you-" Ron broke off as he laid eyes on his friend. " Oh my god..”
Ron breathed. Hermione froze, flashbacks of the after math of the Hunter’s attack racing
through her mind. Harry lay there on a bed, his entire body bandaged and magical casts on
both arms suspended by stationary Levitation charms.

“Harry...” Hermione said softly, bending over at his side. Resting her palm against his
bruised face, she sensed out with her Divine magic. “Every time he’s in this condition,
Solidus gains more control while he helps him heal…” Hermione thought for a moment, then
she put her hands on her hips. “Any ideas how we’re going to sneak him out?” Hermione
asked aloud.

“Unless you consider taking her out alongside the two other aurors, again, I dunno…” Ron
shrugged nonchalantly.

“I guess that’s what we’d have to do, then,” Hermione stated. “I..-” (she blushed) “have to
take him somewhere private...er-” (she blushed again) “to do the ..er…healing spell...yeah…
so we’ll have to sneak him past the guards.”

Ron sighed. “All right, All right, I’ll take care of them. Be back in a moment. But I was never
good at memory charms, so you’d have to do the final touches when I’m done.”

“Okay, I’ll start disenchanting the security in the room, and these levitation casts..”
Hermione added. Ron left the room, and Hermione heard a few enchantments and the
sound of spells ricocheting through the hall outside, then the soft muffled thuds of bodies
falling. By the time Ron came back in with a satisfied grin on his face (and a huge burn
streak through his flaming red hair) Hermione had Harry levitating on a stretcher for travel.

“Right,” he announced, dusting off his hands arrogantly, “You can do the memory mods
now. They’re all nice and cozy in the broom closet.” Hermione went, did the alterations, and
shoved the broom closet closed, wincing a little at the dull sound. She may have used a tad
bit more force than was necessary on Rebecca’s unconscious head. Hermione smiled.

“All right, one other thing- can you drive stick?” Hermione dangled a set of car keys.
“Yep,” Ron grinned, snatching them out her hand.

“We’ll need a vehicle, the apparition wards are still in place, so we got to take one of the
auror vehicles,” Hermione explained as they went down the fire exit portal, Harry floating
docilely behind them. When they arrived at the underground parking level, they had to get
past two nosy (well maybe not so nosy, seeing as the top Auror was floating helplessly
behind them) Hospital security guards, but other than that minor slowdown, operation Steal
Harry Potter was a success.

Driving down the freeway on Hermione’s instructions, Ron found something not quite right
about this whole thing. IF she really needed to heal him, she could have done so at the
hospital. Now that he thought about it, he basically had gone along with all the wacky ideas
because he thought it would be fun, more than actually making sense.

“Hermione, where are we taking him?”

“A secret place.”

“To do what, exactly?” Ron asked again. Hermione bit her bottom lip a bit hesitantly.

“I’m going to exorcise Solidus Gryffindor from him,” she said as a matter of fact. Ron spun
about to look at her in the passenger side, and Hermione had to point lazily at the oncoming
car to get Ron 's eyes back on the road. Ron swerved, escaping death by a wingmirror
distance, the other car's horn blaring in his wake.

“Oh?” Ron blurted, once again not even paying attention to the road (even after he nearly
crashed) . “And how are we going to do that?’ he demanded.

“Not ‘we’, me.” Hermione paused, wondering if she should add unto the pressure by actually
telling Ron what she was going to do. This had never been really done before, but she had
faith that her research would prevail. “I’m going to administer Siren’s curse on him,” she
said softly.

“Oh. Okay then.” It took Ron a few minutes for that to really soak in.

“YOU’RE GOING TO DO WHAT?!!”

****************

author’s note: The part at the hospital where Kingsley was leaving the hospital was a
giveaway, but it had to be there, sorry for not making it more mystery-esque. Thanks for
reading! Oh- and if you like this fic, check out these two series on cable: HBO’s ‘Rome’, and
FX’s ‘Over There’. I’ve watched the entire debut seasons of those two series and they are
exquisite. Respect!
Chapter 29: Hermione's Moment of Truth
[View Online]  [Printer Friendly Version of This Chapter]

**CHAPTER 29: Hermione's Moment of Truth **

The cell was cast in darkness, the only light filtering through the barred air vent high in the
corner of the wall.

“Look at you. It is truly a shame. Here you are, broken and defeated, once again...”

Harry Potter sat on the ground with his back to the wall, his elbows resting on the apex of
his bended knees.

…Leave me alone…

His captor stood at the door to his cell, his features hidden in the deep shadows thrown by
the light of the waning moon. Forearms tucked into the opposite sleeves, the robed Magi
stood arrogantly, his posture indicating that he looking down the length of his nose at him.

Mocking him. Laughing at him.

“Your power is great. I cannot give up such a gift.”

After a few moments he looked up at his captor, hatred in his eyes.

…You are not real. This...is all a dream…

“You keep saying that. What more proof do you need? This cell is your soul. And only I have
the key to this door.”

…I am not going to lose my mind! Not by the likes of you, not by anybody…

His captor walked directly under the light, and removed his hood. Harry’s blood ran cold as
his own visage leered down at him, a huge scar marring the left side of his face.

“I’m afraid, young Potter; that it is already too late for that.”

**************

“Ron, take a left here.”

Ronald Weasley decelerated in the near pitch darkness, having driven for nearly a whole
day. Pursing his lips, he peered through the dewy mist of the lonely, winding road. He did
not respond, only turned on the indicator to make a left unto the dirt track. After ten
minutes of uphill travel through a remote wood, Ron really was starting to worry.

“Are you sure this is it? Women, from my experience, are horrible at directions...” grumbled
Ron, his chin low over the SUV’S steering wheel as he strained his eyes to see. Hermione
was in the backseat alongside a comatose Harry Potter. She had vanished the entire left
side of the vehicle’s chairs to allow his stretcher to lay flat on the carpet.

“I’m sure, Ronald, we’re almost there,” she said in trepidation, tenderly brushing away
Harry’s long hair from his face. As the hours passed, she could feel the inner turmoil inside
of Harry, her sensitivity to his physical condition somehow rubbing off on her. His wounds
weren’t untreatable, but the mere fact that his conscious felt as if it were slipping away from
him, only to be replaced by another was a frightening prospect, and the gravity of her
mission was gnawing at her insides. Focusing her mind to remain calm, she directed Ron up
to a charming holiday house on the crest of the soft incline. The small, picturesque building
was a foreboding tower of destiny in her eyes; all the possibilities running through her mind
were already giving her knots in her stomach.

The Dark Arts were a completely knew territory to her, and now she would have to use
them on both of her best friends. Steeling herself, she got out of the vehicle while Ron
clambered out gratefully from the driver’s seat of the car.

“Bloody hell- that felt like forever! How do they do it?” Ron grumbled, giving the vehicle a
nasty look. Hermione looked up at the quaint two story cottage, the wooden lodge made out
of interlocking logs a virtual fortress of solitude.

In four days, the moon would be right. That meant four days for her to complete the
preparations. She said nothing, clenching her fists to prepare her for what she was about to
do. She came up and stood in front of Ron, a strange expression on her face. Ron looked at
her quizzically.

“Huh? What’s up?” he asked, but she simply shook her head in non compliance. “Wait…Are
you ready?” he asked, a bit more serious this time. Abruptly, she hugged him then kissed
him on his cheek. Ron touched the spot, shocked.

“I’m sorry, Ron, I really am,” she said softly.

“For wha-” Ron started, but did not get to finish. Hermione enraptured his eyes with hers,
and she whispered a faint incantation.

“Leglimens!”

Ron froze still, lost in a trance. Hermione sifted through his thoughts, then begun the
Obliviation memory altering hex. Going through the day backwards in his minds
perspective, she erased the entire day’s events from when they reached Durmstrang until
up to this point. Spooling all of his memories into one of the three special crystal orbs she
had in her possession, she pocketed it into her Hogwarts robes and disengaged the
Leglimens hypnotism.

Ron gasped, rubbing his knuckles in his eyes, trying to re-orient himself from the brutal
mental attack. Without warning, Hermione drew her wand, and pointed it directly at his
face. It almost hurt her to do this.

“Imperio!”

Ron stood stock still, his eyes lost in space. Hermione began to rattle off instructions, her
eyes burning with unshed tears as she raped Ron’s loyal nature and imposed her will upon
his. In a strong voice, she commanded him to do her bidding.

“Apparate to Hogsmeade, Ronald Weasley. From there, you will go directly to the Lizard
Wizard and begin to drink whatever you so desire.” She put a small pouch of Galleons in his
robes. “You will continue to drink until you pass out or are thrown out. When you awaken,
you will say that you and I separated ways at Durmstrang, and when you reached back you
stopped off for a drink to forget the horrors of the Dementor’s influence. You overindulged
yourself, and deeply regret your actions. Do you understand?” Hermione ordered, a tear
escaping her left eye.

“Yes.”

“Go, then.”

And with that, Ronald dissaparated with a crack. She took a deep breath, her eyes welling
up with what she has done, and what she was about to do. Waving her wand once again,
the back door to the SUV lifted up, and she levitated Harry’s stretcher out of the car and
followed him into her grandparents’ long forgotten Lodge.

It was no longer about her, or about Harry. Future generations would fall if she were to fail
now. The Bird God Sansa Ferri herself proclaimed Harry to be one of the two prophesized
Dark Sons of Magic.

It was up to her now. As of this moment on, she decided the fate of The Boy Who Lived.

*************

“Madame Minister, what do we tell the families of the deceased?” Percy Weasley said, his
voice solemn as he scanned the long roll of parchment in his hands. On it were the names
of the brave soldiers who died in Lestrange’s three way attack. It was inconceivable at first,
but the acts did not lie. Almost three hundred Ministry personnel perished at Hogwarts and
Beauxbatons in one night.

Considering that most of these people were the same age, basically a generation of fully
fledged wizards was gone forever, and the Ministry was now crippled to a devastating level.
It was too early to feel the full effect of this tragedy, but in the years to come, when
orphans grew up without the guidance of their parents, families without their loved ones the
pain would linger in the air like a curse. And with a whole generation gap gone missing, the
whole magical community would feel the aftershock of that night. It would undoubtedly be
recorded in the history books as one of the worst tragedies ever.

Sherry Diggory hands were in her hair, the dark circles under her eyes a telltale sign of the
pressure she was under these past three days. Assembling an army overnight wasn’t easy,
and coordinating efforts across Europe on a moment’s notice did take a toll on her. Now
there was the emotional and professional burden of losing almost fifty percent of her Auror
squadrons, and to top it off- Harry Potter; the Commander of her Elite unit, has been
abducted by persons unknown.

“I will issue the personal letters to the families of the deceased; we owe it to the survivors
to let them…”

She faltered for a moment, steeping her fingers under her chin in contemplation.

“To um...show that we care,” she finished, trying to find the words to say. “It was a
mistake, I admit; to send the direct relatives of the Hogwarts students there… t-to-to
protect them. I thought the emotional factor would strengthen their resolve, give them
something to fight for...but this unfortunate tragedy proves that a different approach would
have been wiser…”

The Minister of Magic got to her feet, taking the smoky orb that was the lone ornament on
her desk. The shimmering swirl of liquid memories danced in the crystal ball sitting in the
centre of her palm, its perfect spherical shape about the same size as a tennis ball.

“Only two wizards survived while defending Hogwarts grounds that night- Albus
Dumbledore, and Jeremy Kingsley. Two hundred and eighty two of our men and women
died that night. Warren Jacobsen and his legion were defeated at Beauxbatons, and only
had time to get all the students away before the school was destroyed. Nearly twenty dead,
dozens injured. On the other hand….” She stared into the Orb in the palm of her hand-
“Where the enemy was at its strongest, one man was willing to sacrifice his own life to
protect our troops...and the school. There wasn’t a single injury to either the students,
neither to our forces.” Her eyes narrowed at the swirling mist in her crystal ball, an entire
lifetime of an individual captured in her grasp.

“Potter fights for something….” She said sadly, her fingers closing around the warm object.
“Something that I didn’t understand before...but now I think I do. Percy, forgive me…I-I- I
think I have made a horrible mistake.” Her eyes were red now, and the weight of her
actions bore heavily on her chest. “What have I done?” she said softly, a tear running down
her face as she realized what she held in her hand could lead to the death of them all.
“Percy, please contact Jeremy for me. I need to have a private word with him.”

*****************

There was a sharp knocking on the door, but Rodulphus Lestrange barely acknowledged it.
Did they know not to disturb him while he was doing his morning crossword? He continued
to concentrate on the clue to fourteen down, twenty five across.

If you had a waistline as wide around as the __________, you’d have a World of trouble

The knocking came again, a bit more urgent this time.

Rodulphus leant back, taking the morning paper with him as he sat in his study. What in the
world are they talking about? He cursed.

“Lestrange!” a voice bellowed this time, accompanied by a deliberate pounding on the door.
Rodulphus straightened his reading glasses, and set back down the paper on the coffee
table, not even glancing in the direction of his unwanted visitor.

After a minute of silence, Rodulphus yelped as the door was blasted open.

“How did you do it?”

“Do what, may I ask?” Rodulphus asked kindly, looking up at his unwelcome guest.

“Give them purpose. Give them magic- what the hell do you think I’m talking about?”

“Oh, the Inferi, is it?” He grinned. “Well...it’s a bit complicated actually, and why should I
tell you? We’re enemies, aren’t we?” Rodulphus acknowledged, taking a sip of his morning
tea. He raised an eyebrow in curiosity. “My guards?”

“Are enraptured by my Siren’s voice at this very moment.”

“Oh? A Siren? And what about the manor’s protection?” Rodulphus probed, intrigued.

“My Elemental supercharged all the wards here with lightning, blowing them all out like
that-” he snapped his fingers. “Do not worry; none of your staff are dead, just merely
overwhelmed by my followers. But enough of that, I am here, and that is all that matters.”
The visitor fingered the ancient books of magic on the wall to wall shelving with a sense of
almost sensual familiarity.

“Not even Voldemort himself could give a free will to the dead, far less empowering them
with magic. But you, you have done so and restored the memories of their previous life-
almost as if they were resurrected from the fires of hell itself. You mentioned your family
hereditary charm putting them under your control, but giving them magic?! Where did you
learn this knowledge?”

“Well, I fiddled here, doodled there...put together a potion and came up with a notion!”
Rodulphus said casually, his hand relaxed deceptively on his wand. As he enclosed it in his
fingers, the air grew heavy, his mannerism changed, and his voice was as serious as ever.
“You have done well, I must say. It is not everyday that someone can enter my house and
confront me like this. But first, as we’re in the process of giving information- enlightened
me. I am a scholar, and information is my fetish. Who disenchanted our Blood wards?”

“Oh, your Azkaban friend, Rechaux Lestat- he owes me a favour here and there...” the
other man said smugly. “Blood magic is their specialty you know.”

“The vampire?” Lestrange tugged on his trimmed beard thoughtfully. “I heard a whole clan
was wiped out a few months back- you didn’t have anything to do with that, did you?”
Rodulphus queried innocently.

“I might have.”

“So, straight to the point. Are you here to kill me?” Rodulphus continued; his voice neutrally
monotone.

“Maybe.”

“Hmmm. By your words, you want something from me- or else we won’t be having this
conversation, would we?” Rodulphus mused, laying his wand down carefully, never losing
eye contact. “I know your little secret, Malfoy…or should I say ‘Tom’?”

Draco Malfoy smiled knowingly, his brow buried in the dark shadows of his hood.

“I thought you might have noticed a few similarities, but that’s all there is- just a few
peculiar traits that I have now grown attuned to. Take this for instance-” He pulled out the
broken remains of two wands, the shimmering orange core identical in both. “It has
occurred to me that I do like trinkets, memorable ones that are priceless in both monetary-
and historical value, such as these. A true prize, sister wands created generations apart,
both possessed by the two strongest magi of our times…” Draco smiled. He had bigger plans
than just keeping them as souvenirs. But that would have to wait. “And contrary to your
belief, I am not Tom Riddle’s puppet. You may call me Lord Malfoy, and all I want is the
secret to your mass resurrection curse.”

Rodulphus sat up a bit straighter in his cushy armchair, his eyebrows rising.

“Oh, and why should I give you that, Lord Malfoy,” Lestrange said smugly, a slight smile at
the new moniker.

“Let’s put it this way. If we allow him to continue, we’re all dead men. Oh- while we’re on
that, tell Ash not to send his wannabe elementals to challenge Potter, their lives may be
worthless, but it would be a tragic waste of exceptional magical talent… ”

“Hmmm…yes, it does seem that Potter has thwarted all attempts on his life without much
trouble…” Rodulphus nodded. “But I’m afraid Logan is pretty stubborn about it and is
basically just waiting for an opportunity to strike, so who knows? They may strike gold and
actually -”

“No,” Draco interrupted. “He cannot be killed by the conventional methods. I have seen
Potter’s true potential, and he is guarded by powerful forces that you, I , and probably no
one else can challenge by ourselves. For the time being, I rather those wizards remain alive,
we may have use for them in the future,” Draco said easily.

“Is that so? ‘Powerful forces’? ” Lestrange said in mild curiosity.

“If you did not know, all of your men, to the very last one, are dead. To my knowledge,
both the patron gods of Gryffindor and Slytherin have sworn loyalty to the blood that runs
in his veins. Think you can match that?”

“I love a challenge,” Rodulphus said confidently, sipping on his mug.

“Very well. Let it be known- I will be the one who finally kills him, not you, nor anyone
else,” Draco said calmly.

“You think so?” Rodulphus countered.

“Yes, but for now, there is much work to be done.” Draco stopped his perusal of the
shelves, his back facing Lestrange as he spoke his ultimatum. “Are you with me, or against
me?”

Rodulphus took a liking to Malfoy immediately on first encounter. He decided on the spot
that he found a good ally.
“You are indeed perceptive beyond your years. Come, come, young grasshopper, it is time
to show you the ropes.”

***************

She had to plan this carefully. It had taken her all night and almost the entire following day
to get Harry to a state where her healing magic would help his body start the recuperation
process, then yesterday she spent the whole afternoon making the lodge unplottable.

Hermione Granger was disguised as an old crone in hag’s rags as she made her purchases
in Knockturn alley. She trudged her way down the dark, cramped street with back hunched,
a dirty grey veil blocking off her young features. With a large parcel hanging from her left
elbow she concentrated on keeping up the façade before someone realized that this hag was
not really what she appeared to be. Her shopping was almost complete, all she had to do
know was get the cauldron, then she would apparate back to the pathway and finally make
the ten minute walk up the hill to the house.

Finding the place she was looking for, she pushed open the door to Avery’s and Avery’s Iron
Forge.

“Welcome. You here to buy?” a middle-aged woman grunted, her eyes glued to a magazine
on the counter.

“Four foot cauldron, five across- iron granite with the diamond dust rim, Plea-” Hermione
caught herself, almost letting that one piece of manners slip. She learned a while back
manners got you nowhere in Knockturn alley.

“Only a few uses for that make,” the woman grumbled. “What’s an old hag like you doing
with such a…carnal...cauldron?” she asked suggestively.

“Look here young lady...” Hermione croaked as she feebly drew her wand between
trembling fingers. “Don’t make me…”

“That’ll be thirty four galleons and six sickles,” Mrs. Avery said nastily, brushing off the
threat. Hermione withdrew her wand and offered her a small pouch with the fee, her hand
trembling as she laid it on the counter.

“Rude of you to be minding other’s business. I’ll be leaving now,” she said as she pivoted
slowly, her feet shuffling as she headed towards the cauldron that magically appeared by
the door.

“Wait!” Mrs. Avery ordered, her tone threatening. Hermione froze, ready to stun her
senseless if she suspected her. “You gave me three galleons extra, here you are, you sly old
vixen!” She tossed the small pouch and Hermione’s hand automatically snatched it out of
midair. Just as she thought she had given herself away with that sharp movement, there
was a crude laugh behind the counter. “I know a pro when I see one, always eager to grab
money-” she cackled. “Enjoy your cauldron, make his toes curl!” she chuckled, and
Hermione made no mistake and dragged the cauldron out the door and disapparated
alongside it with a crack.
**************

At the remote lodge, Harry lay completely still, his body bandaged and wrapped with bone
mending linen. Two days had passed since he was brought here, and he was of yet oblivious
to his environment. Little did he know, very powerful dark magic was being crafted right
above his head on the floor above.

Hermione was surrounded by text, flasks, parchments and various potion apparatus. The
huge cauldron bubbled randomly as she prepared Siren’s Serenade, a potion whose scent
mimics the powerful entrapment that their voices could create. A heady scent swam around
her, but the illegal potion had no effect on women. However, there was a rite she must do
before Harry was fully awake.

The requirements for this spell to work needed a bit more, personal influence to ensure
success. What al the texts implied, is that for Siren’s curse to work, the female must be in
‘heat’. Henceforth, she also had to do research on that aspect. And for that, she needed
blood from the male to create a potion that would allow her pheromones to achieve a level
that could literally (if used inappropriately) cause men to actually jump her in the middle of
the street.

She made her way out of the makeshift potions lab and went down the steps. Taking a
small, sharp knife, she made a small cut on Harry’s chest, and used her wand to magically
put the spilled blood into a tiny flask. Checking the progress on his injuries, she inspected
the bone mending linen and all the other bandages. She frowned, even by her standards,
these injuries were healing much faster than she expected. Glancing back at his chest, she
was alarmed to notice that the cut had completely healed and only a faint mark showed that
his skin was ever broken.

She had to hurry. He will be awake soon. The potions had to be finished before that
happened.

*************

Back in the cell, Harry’s face grew more haggard as he felt the imposing presence in his tiny
cage closing down on him. His captor stooped low on his hunches and stared at Harry, his
eyes hardening at what he saw before him.

“A long time ago, magic users were not afraid to proclaim and demonstrate their abilities far
and wide, which lead to envy and jealousy, and that escalated into the bloodshed of
innocent and guilty alike. The thrill of power is very intoxicating.

“When I was around your age, I sought vengeance against the person who murdered my
father, the wise and powerful Godric Gryffindor.

“Our lives are very closely intertwined, you and I. Both of us, at a young age, had to
accomplish what hardened warriors twice our age could not.
“Once, there lived a man who wielded the power to change the realm of magic. Over the
span of many generations, there will always be a special individual who has that power, that
inner drive, that spirit. Before my death, I found a way to keep my essence in that weapon.
And for the past five years, I have helped you along the way. You, my good friend, have
done great deeds.”

There was a moment’s silence as his captor stood up, turning his back to Harry.

"Terrible deeds, but great deeds none the less. Sounds familiar, does it Potter?” Another
chuckle. “Once again, the powers that be- have, and will always, cast judgment on those
they fear to be the strongest. “

As he turned the key in the lock to make his exit, he paused.

“It is apparent that there is someone even more powerful than you and I combined. I
cannot defeat her. You will get your wish.”

Harry’s face looked up, his eyes red with fatigue.

“I have not much longer for this world. However, it will not be without a price.”

… A price? Am I going to die? …

“No. You will be very much alive. However, the window to your soul will be forever closed,
until those who wish to view it are ready to face the consequences.”

…What? What are you trying to tell me?

“When you awaken, you will know of what I speak. But little do they know, like me, you will
not bow before any heavenly host, neither cower before the devils of hell.

"Soon, you will be re-incarnated from the ashes, stronger, even more determined, your
eyes will ablaze with a power that even I could not have imagined possible. It is inevitable.

"After a restless slumber, the Dark Lord will rise again.”

And with that, his captor opened the door, and was gone.

*****************

A heady scent wafted into nose as once again, that uncomfortable feeling of reawakening
out of a coma brought his senses online. His eyes opened wearily, the room swimming in his
vision. He couldn’t move his arms or legs, and as he felt his sense of touch coming back to
him, he realized he was flat on his back on a very bare mattress.

Craning his neck to look down at his feet, his eyes strained to focus at the beautiful
apparition that stood before his eyes.

A young woman with long, brown hair was standing before him, wearing nothing but a
transparent night gown. That heady scent went straight to his brain, and he could do
nothing but gape as a sense of delirium washed over him. From the way she was staring at
him, she was expecting him to wake up soon. With a graceful serenity, she lighted a candle
at the base of her feet, then moved to his left, lighting another, then further up, lighting
another, completing the sequence of five candles enclosing a circle ten feet in diameter.

When all were lighted, the young woman spoke an incantation, and all light from the
windows were blocked out, leaving only the light from the five candles to cast flickering
shadows on the wooden walls.

Harry tried to move, but his arms and legs were spread eagle, chains binding him down at
his wrists and ankles.

“W-wha-“ he gurgled in protest, but soon realized that his brain wasn’t functioning well
enough to complete the necessary mouth and tongue movements to speak.

“Shhh…” the woman said softly, and knelt down at his feet. Harry’s eyes followed her
progress as she crawled in between his legs. With her delicate hands, she caressed him, her
voice soft as she incanted powerful magic, driving her subject into a sexual stupor. Harry’s
breath caught in the back of his throat, the blood in his veins excited by this glorious
sensation.

Enraptured in pleasure, his head lolled back, his jaw falling open as he stared up at the
ceiling. His body began to tremble as waves of sensation racked through him. The woman’s
hands ran up his chest, her short nails digging hard into his skin as her brown hair danced
against his lower abdomen. When Harry thought that he could take no more, she stopped,
journeying up his body with soft kisses up the centre of his stomach, kissing up to the base
of his neck as she crawled up the length of his body. Her breath was warm against his
exposed skin, her lips supple and delicate on his scarred body.

The young woman poised over him, her legs smooth and unblmeished as she made her final
incantation. In a slow, deliberate motion she straddled him, biting her bottom lip as the
powerful spell began to take over. Harry gasped in pleasure as she slowly began to rock
back and forth, her pelvis moving to the age old rhythm of sensual lovemaking. Her palms
were flat against his chest, her beautiful face damp with perspiration as she grunted softly,
her body working its way into a mode where she herself no longer had to think about what
she was doing. Sensations and the feel of him inside her was all that she needed, and all
that she had, she was ready to give it to him.

Harry’s arms tensed against the chains, his desperation to touch her, to run his hands over
her body so strong that it was torture to be kept in bondage while this goddess did to him
whatever her heart desired. The room was swimming again, and with each tensing of
muscles, with each moan of pleasure, he could do nothing but drown in this carnal delirium.

Her smell, the way she moved, the way her smooth skin rubbed against him drowned any
possibility of coherent thought, excepting the fact that Solidus had lied, for he was dead,
and this was heaven.

Because here he was, a mere mortal, being dominated by what had to be an Angel.

With her every move, he could feel it building, something was happening along with his
climax. Strength flooded back to him, and Solidus roared alive in defiance. His eyes closed,
and when they reopened, the shone brightly with power. The woman screamed in shock,
but she did not stop, she just closed her eyes and began to go faster, riding the up the
waves of her own climbing release.
She just prayed that Harry could protect her until it was finished. Her back arched as she
rode him faster, her hips moving furiously now as she dug her nails in his skin. Her pleasure
turned into panic as she heard the snapping of chains on the right and left of her, her body
beginning to infuse with Harry’s dangerous magic. Her eyes stared into his face, Harry’s
mouth bared in a wide grin.

“Harry?” she said uncertainly, even though she dare not stop. The metal clamps on his
ankles burst open and quick as lightning her possessed lover had her on her back, one of
his hands taking both of her wrists captive and holding it high over her head. With the
other, he covered her mouth, blocking off any attempt to scream.

The young woman 's face contorted as he began to ravish her once again, her soft cries
turning into moans of pleasure.

“My god, you really are beautiful…” Harry said darkly as his forehead came in contact
with her own, his body tensing as his orgasm climaxed. “ I will warn you, I will not go
quietly. I have my price- as do we all. Your soft thighs and angelic eyes have done
what legions could not. Be proud- my beautiful maiden, you have defeated me!”

And with that, Harry screamed, and everything went dark.

**************

“Madame Minister, are you sure about this?” Jeremy Kingsley asked, his face furrowed in
concern. “Is there no other way?”

“My thirst for vengeance has made me blind. I must now make a hard decision, one that I
am sure, could prevent what my Divination specialists foresee. “

“But- Sherry, this is going a bit – extreme!” Jeremy countered.

“Drastic measures are necessary. Trust me on this. I have sifted through the boy’s
memories, the ones I told you to modify. His life was full of darkness. The only thing that
has kept him sane was the love of his friends, and the guidance of his teachers. In short,
Hogwarts was the only thing he has lived for- that is why he fights so hard, that is why a
campaign I thought may take my entire term is almost completed in only a year. His efforts
to protect the school, its students- that’s what made him such a gifted magi. He loves that
place, and will die trying to protect them.

“It was foolish of me to try and interfere with that, to make him something that he isn’t.
Now, all that remains in his memories is of violence, and death. And from the feedback I’m
getting, his popularity, or should I say, budding notoriety is quite disturbing. Rumours of
him rising to power- just by the unofficial number of our military forces wishing to follow
directly under his command is now becoming a direct threat to the British Ministry of Magic.

“It is my job, as Minister of Magic, to solve problems that arise, and also to prevent these
same problems from arising. Tom Marvolo Riddle nearly destroyed our way of life by simply
using a select group of followers to spread his teachings and philosophy, until it began to
run like wildfire. While the use of the Imperius curse and violence was more his way of
obtaining support- the fact of the matter is, Potter is too volatile to be left in such a position
where our Aurors will follow his command unflinchingly. Now that we have tried to upset
that fragile balance by altering his memories, I don’t know what to expect.

“In addition to that; the fact that he’s been A.W.O.L. for almost a month is not a good sign.
We need to put him under military detention, and have a prognosis done on his mental
condition. If he refuses, you are to take him in by force.”

Jeremy Kingsley’s mouth tightened. “Aye, Madame Minister…” he saluted, and turned to
leave.

“Admiral…use any means necessary. Code Red mission status,” Sherry said softly. Jeremy
paused, and nodded as he exited.

Under general clause 0234: Code Red. If negotiations fail, Lethal force is permitted and is
advisable in the apprehension of any wizard/witch with military background or experience.

Fate had shown her ugly side to that boy at every turn. His nightmares had come to pass,
and it was now too late. It had indeed turned out for the worst. Sometimes, Jeremy
Kingsley wished he could throttle that woman.

*****************

A month had passed, and Harry was bedridden with severe fever and delusion. Hermione
was in and out of Hogsmeade, making quick apparition visits to store owners after the reply
owl stated that her orders was ready. Harry had passed out after their intense lovemaking,
and had not woken since. She was there at his side all day and night, bathing him, taking
care of him, using a sleep –repelling draught to ride out the nights when his temperature
had sky rocketed. The side effects of using this type of exorcism were never documented,
but she was sure that the worst of it was over. She had two secret meetings with Albus
Dumbledore to give him updates, and his confidence in her ability was the only thing that
was keeping her from panicking.

“Hullo Miss Granger,” the shopkeeper at Healers’ Haven welcomed her as she stepped
inside. “Came to collect?”

“Yes. Thank you Mr Hibbert.”

“I hope you’re doing well with your internship,” he said jovially as he gave her the packages
she ordered.

“Yes- umm,” she reddened slightly. “Very good, good experience, y’know, great opportunity
for me,” she smiled shakily. Her ‘internship’ was beginning to worry her though. She paid
for the items, and shoved those negative notions away.

He’ll awake anytime now, she knew it. Sighing to herself, she left the shop and apparated
back to the track. As she walked up to the door and was about to open it, two wizards
ported to directly on either side of her, both wearing scarves that covered their entire
mouth and chin, tall pointed hats with large brims pulled low over their eyes. Before she got
a chance to scream, a hand was clamped over her mouth and while the other disarmed her
with silent efficiency.

“That was easy,” the wizard on her left said arrogantly as he pocketed her wand. “I hope
you’re doing well with your internship,” he mocked, using Mr. Hibbert’s squeaky voice.
“That's a portkey." he pointed at the package. "You won’t recognize the Imperius curse if it
kicked you in the arse, Miss Granger.”

“Cut it out,” said the Obliviator who held her captive. “Don’t worry. We won’t hurt you. Is he
inside? Nod or shake your head.”

Hermione shook her head immediately.

“Well, your lying skills aren’t that good either. Whoever was treating his injuries had to buy
items from somewhere. Hmph. Just a matter of time until we found out who. Not surprised
actually. “

“Gentlemen, I advise that you let her go, right now,” a voice said from behind them. All
three of them froze for a second, then turned slowly, the Obliviators' hands held high in the
air. Harry Potter was standing behind them, clad in a simple black robe, the hood pulled
back on his shoulders. Hermione took the opportunity and immediately stepped out the
way. She frowned at Harry's face. Wait- what was he doing?

“What do you want with me?” Harry said calmly. It took them a second to fully realize that
Harry was talking to them, but his eyes were closed.

“Commander, we’re here to bring you in. You can come quietly, or we can use force,” one of
the men said cautiously, dropping his hands slowly. The other smirked, thinking that this
was some new trick. Harry tilted his head, as if contemplating something out of the
ordinary, then smiled.

“I refuse. If that will be all?” he said cordially, his smile vanishing.

“Refuse? W-we ..you’re surrounded! There are ten-no, t-twenty of us in the surrounding
bushes!“ the other man countered, his bravado vanishing in an instant.

“Oh? Actually it was five, and they’re in no condition to surround anybody, far less surround
me. I have cast an anti disapparation ward since I felt your presence from lower down the
hill. Right now, you are presently my captives. I have a couple of questions to ask you two,”
Harry smiled sardonically, his eyes still closed. “You can either answer them, or-" (he
mimicked the other's tone) "- I can use force.”

It was with those words that Jansen Rockwell and Lewis Zabini began to panic, their eyes
darting from left to right.

“Who ordered this?” Harry demanded. "Who wants me killed?"

“Our ...o-orders..came directly, from the Minister herself... sir!” Jansen said, his voice
trembling.

“Really? She sends seven men to take me? I thought I warranted a few more than that,
don’t I?” Harry said casually, his tone deadly soft.

“Sir- no, I mean Yessir!” Jansen agreed, his teammate nodding vigorously.

“I see. Now, the real question is... do I let you two live, or should I just be rid of you two
right here, right now?”
“Sir, it was orders! We had no choice! Please, I beg you-“ Lewis fell to his knees, the front
of his robes turning dark with what must be urine. Harry sniffed noticeably.

“One soils himself, and the other wets himself. Please take your rubbish,” Harry nodded to
the woods behind him. “If by the time I escort this young lady inside and I still sense you
two nearby, I will find you. Good afternoon, gentlemen. “

Harry turned his back on them and took Hermione by her upper arm. “Come with me,” He
opened the door and ushered her inside. He closed the door behind them and stood in the
centre of the room. Hermione was beyond puzzled. The fact that he still had his eyes closed
was terrifying her.

“Harry-?” she began. “What happened to your eyes? Are you okay?” He raised his hand,
cutting her off.

“First and foremost, are you the same woman from before? If you are, then please tell me
your name, I need to be sure of something.”

“My name, Harry, what? You – it’s me! Hermione?”

“Hermione? ‘Hermione’ who?” Harry enquired, his mind racing as he tried desperately to
make a connection in his memories.

“Granger! What other Hermione do you know?” she said in frustration. Harry turned away
from her, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, cursing softly under his breath.

“To answer your previous question, no I am not blind, but neither can I see. I can sense a
small animal directly outside this room, can you see it?”

Hermione nodded, really not believing what she was hearing. “Y-yes I see it. Oh Harry, I’m
so sorry…” she began, coming up to him to hold him close, but he muttered a spell softly,
and she was gently levitated to the far end of the room.

“Do not come any closer, Hermione Granger.” Harry turned completely away from her and
faced towards the window. “Look closely.”

After a few seconds, he finally opened his eyes. Hermione felt a dark magic ringing in her
ears, then suddenly felt very weak. The songbird took off from the branch, desperately
trying to escape his piercing gaze. Hermione’s eyes widened as the tiny bird’s wings begin
to fail, and then stop flapping completely. The bird nosedived, dead before it hit the ground.
Harry peered down at the poor animal, his face devoid of any emotion. Hermione gasped in
shock, taking a few steps back as she realized what had just transpired before her very
eyes. Closing his eyes once more, Harry let the sun warm his face as he leant on the
window sill, his thoughts racing to only a few hours before.

“As of this morning, I have lost the use of my conventional vision. It makes sense now: how
could he create a Horcrux or even think about possessing me if he had no control over
magic? The books were wrong. Solidus Gryffindor was never a squib, he was a powerful
dark magi who simply could not or did not use conventional magic. Hermione Granger, this
was the price for my freedom. “

Hermione’s heart dropped into her chest as she fully understood what was happening. She
couldn’t believe it. What have I done?

“I can only ‘see’ when my eyes are opened, but at a terrible cost.” Harry crouched near the
mattress, using his hands to probe where his uniform lay in a neat folded pile. “Where is it,
oh fuck…” he cursed as he began to search for the blindfold that was near the wall. “Accio !”
he said in frustration, and it flew obediently into his hand. Tying the black material around
his eyes, he began to dress, putting on his Ministry battle fatigues and then donning the
cloak of the Order of the Phoenix over that.

“It’s very hard to keep my eyes closed, it’s unnatural- the muscles tire easily,” he smiled
sadly in her direction. “From the other men's dying words, it is clear that someone has
sabotaged my memories, leaving only blurred images of the happy moments in my life. Not
only that, but robbing me of the few memories I was holding desperately unto – my
parents, Sirius… my friends…”

“Now, I only remember my path in becoming the Commander of the S.T.A.R. Elite…“ he
murmured softly, securing the gold armband on his left bicep.

“All the battles, all the dark wizards I have murdered, they are my only company now. I am
sure you were once someone special to me, but I can’t even remember what you look like,
or how I know you in the first place. For that transgression alone, I will have my revenge.
Dumbledore has hidden something that belonged to me. I want it back. "

Harry stepped outside, and raised both hands into the air, his palms ready to accept
blessings from the sky.

"Come to me, my faithful servant. Rise from your imprisonment, and be at my side once
again."

The clouds overhead darkened, and Harry Potter began whispering incantations, creating
the very air around him to swirl with magic. There was the sound of a missile falling, and
Harry turned his face upwards to the sky as a projectile sped towards him at incredible
speed. Without hesitation, Harry snatched it out of the air, the Sword of Gryffindor safe and
secure in his palm. With a contented smile on his face, he tucked it into his belt.

"I’m sorry….I have to go. Goodbye, Hermione.”

“Wait! No! I can help you! Where are you going?” Hermione screamed.

“I am going to take back what is rightfully mine. Do not interfere,” he said simply, and then
he closed the door behind him. By the time Hermione raced after him, he was gone.

She couldn’t believe it.

Hermione fell faint and unsteadily lowered herself unto the bare, wooden floor. Tears began
to run down her face as she realized the fate of her hero, the wizard once known as The Boy
Who Lived. The sunlight glinted off a shiny object near the centre of the room, catching her
attention. Getting up to retrieve it, she picked up Harry's Medallion of the Order. There was
a huge metal scrape running through the centre, defacing the proud Phoenix that was
etched into the magical object.

It was a damning symbol of her failure. She couldn't do it. The Prophecy had indeed come
to pass, and she was powerless to stop him. Trying to put things into perspective, she
quickly decided what she must do next. It was imperative that she get back to Hogwarts
and warn everybody.

Harry was now truly lost to them. It was now up to the Order to stop him, before it was too
late.

*******************

Author’s Note: Don't miss the gripping conlcusion to LEGACIES: The Grim ! Special Nedved
chapter! Coming up next-

**CHAPTER 30: The Rise Of The Dark Lord**

Boom!

Chapter 30: The Rise Of The Dark Lord

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**CHAPTER 30: The Rise of The Dark Lord**

Remus Lupin had faced many trials over the years. Trial number one: growing up in a
school of magic while hiding the fact that he was a werewolf. And to make matters worse,
he graduated at the top of his class, only to be spurned away from employment at every
turn. Losing all of his schoolmates through the first war, their deaths scarring him one by
one as they fell in battle, yet he alone survived. He was once a brave, proud man. Over the
years he was chipped away piece by piece, broken into fragments of his former self. It all
began when a man he considered one of his best friends betrayed James and Lily; which led
to the false imprisonment of one of the most gifted wizards he had ever known, Sirius
Black.

He disassociated himself from Sirius, turning his back on the one man he should have
believed until the last breath, abandoning his only friend as they banished him to Azkaban.

For these sins, he should have been punished many times over.

But at this moment, when the world around him was seemingly falling apart, he felt true
happiness for maybe the first time in his life.

“Here is your son, Mr. Lupin,” said Healer Francine. A newborn was held in her arms,
wrapped snugly in soft blankets. “A beautiful baby boy, congratulations!”

Remus could not describe this feeling, this sort of tranquil peace and utter contentment as
he held his son in his arms. His fiance was looking up tiredly at them, a serene smile on her
damp face. Remus looked lovingly at his family, feeling the weight of nearly three decades
of pain slowly ease of his shoulders. He looked deeply into Nymphadora's eyes, his eyes
watering as he finally realized what had happened.

He was a father. The woman at his side loved him. They were to be married as soon as
possible. He had a son. His life finally had purpose.

“Thank you, Nymphadora,” he bent low and kissed her. “You have made me a very, very,
happy man.”

“Apollo has your eyes, Remus,” she said softly, her energy spent after eight hours of labour.
“Look at him- he has your eyes...and my nose...” she said affectionately. “Thats our son !”
she said contentedly, her hand coming up to tenderly touch her baby's forehead.

“Yes, he is ...”

Remus studied his son's sleeping face. He knew he will be well protected. Being named as a
child's Godfather was a powerful binding contract in the magical world. Sirius broke out of
Azkaban- an impossible feat- to help Harry when he discovered that Peter was still alive.

Harry Potter was destined since birth to save the wizarding world- a magi of unprecedented
ability. Apollo would have a strong Godfather to watch over him. Remus smiled, cuddling his
tiny son in his arms.

He had faith in Granger, always did, and always will.

**********

Destination, Determination, Deliberation...

Hermione Granger put one foot in front of the other as she tread down the lonely road, still
caught in a daze. She was crying so hard, she couldn't concentrate enough to apparate, but
she knew she had to warn them. She had to warn everybody. Even if she couldn't use her
magic, she'd walk; she couldn't stop -the closer she got to Hogwarts, the better. School was
already out for nearly a month, she set it in her mind that the N.E.W.T. Exams was nowhere
nearly as important as this. Presently, she no longer was a student of Hogwarts School of
Witchcraft and Wizardry. A crippling emptiness echoed inside her. Hermione finally came to
terms with what had happened at the lodge, and the fact that the responsibility placed on
her shoulders was too heavy for her to bear alone.

Destination, Determination, Deliberation...

She had failed them. Failed Dumbledore, failed the Order, and most importantly, failed
Harry. He had came to her, begging her to help him, and she had promised she would. Her
final exam was to ensure that the prophecy did not come to pass; that the heralded
emergence of Dark Sons of Magic would be avoided, that her first love would return to her.
She wanted him back: the Harry that was her best friend, from the first year boy who would
avoid the books to play quidditch; the same boy that protected them through the years; the
same boy who would eventually become a hero who would always find a way, no matter
how difficult the task seemed. One who fought for justice, and would do anything for those
that he loved.

All in all, a true Gryffindor.

That was all gone now. She couldn't even sense his presence that morning. He was standing
right in front of her, but he was a completely different person, he possessed an arrogant
stance while a heavy, ominous magical aura lingered around him. It was his face, it was the
same voice, but it everything was so different. It was unnerving, that sense of being in a
secluded room with someone she knew intimately, yet was a total stranger to her.

Destination, Determination, Deliberation...

Running that morning over and over in her head, Hermione desperately searched for
something that would give her inspiration, anything that could help them now. He said
someone took his memories from him. For now, that was her only clue to find out what his
intentions were. St. Mungo's was the only place where the culprit could have gotten to him,
the short period of time before Ron and she picked him up. She'd inform the the Order as
soon as she could calm herself down enough to appar-

A truck horn blared at her, knocking her out of her thoughts like a sledgehammer. Hermione
froze stock still as the headlights of a semi bore down at her with frightening speed.
Snapping back to reality she realized that she had wandered in the middle of the deserted
road. Putting up her hands in panic, her magic jumped into overdrive and inches before
certain death, there was a sudden crack and she had disappeared.

************

Marcus Schweinstieger was at his desk, drinking his mandatory cup of coffee as he settled
in for the long haul. Being the administrative assistant on the main floor of the Ministry of
Magic was a time consuming position, a job description that needed someone present from
seven in the morning until ten in the evening. With the severe lack of hands on board since
the the Battle for Durmstrang a little over a month ago, Ministry personnel and Aurors alike
had to occasionally take the double shift. He didn't mind, the extra money would come in
handy if he wanted to start his own little business, as was his and his girlfriend's original
plan. The quicker he paid off his schooling loan, the better for him, and the better for
Amanda. Maybe just a year more, and then he'll have enough saved up....

Just then a single coin popped out of nowhere, falling with a sharp cling in the main hall of
the ministry of magic. Curious, Marcus sat up a bit straighter, his brow furrowing in
concern. As he got his feet under him to investigate, there was the feeling of air being
dramatically sucked in, then expanding in a bubble of low pressure as seven figures port
keyed into existence. However, only two were standing. Without hesitation, one of the
visitors lunged for the front desk, and grabbed hold of the horn shaped crystal that sat
innocently in the corner.

“Hey! You're not allowed to use that!” Marcus interjected, caught off guard. “That's only for
emergencies...”
Marcus broke off as he realized that five of the other six were dead, an expression of blank
horror stricken on their faces. The other mysterious wizard was on all fours, apparently
trembling or crying, he didn't know which. Lewis Zabini rapped the horn with his wand and
it began to pulse red. The hallways throughout the ministry of magic came alive with a
rising wail of a siren, the light from the candles now strobing orange and scarlet as the Red
Alert was triggered.

“ALL PERSONELL-” Zabini said, his voice heavy. “SECURITY ALERT CLASS ONE, ALL HANDS
ARE TO TAKE ARMS AND REPORT TO THE MINISTER. I REPEAT, SECURITY ALERT CLASS
ONE! ALL HANDS ARE TO TAKE ARMS AND REPORT TO THE MINISTER! WE ARE UNDER
ATTACK!”

Marcus paled, his eyes widening as he saw the fear in the other man's eyes. What in the
world was going on?

“Schweinstieger, we've got to hurry. I want Ulysses and his Beastmasters to get the trolls,
get the Skrewts, get anything they can that could fight. Get them to secure this building's
perimeter - forget the muggles, we've got bigger problems to worry about. Get the M.A.R.S
guys to take them away-” he pointed to the five corpses he and his mate 'ported back to
the HQ- “ And alert the remainder of my squadron that we've got trouble. A lot of trouble.”
He looked solemnly at his fallen comrades. “Tell them..tell them..tell them that our mission
failed, and our team was nearly wiped out. And be sure to inform the minister, that he is
coming .”

“Who? Who is coming?”

“Just tell her what I said, soldier,” Zabini said tiredly.

“What? No! Tell me!” Marcus shouted as the sound of numerous forces flooing into the hall
by the fives and sixes adding to the building cacophony of rushing footsteps, the wailing
siren, and countless voices now barking orders or demanding answers. “What's going on
here?”

Zabini simply shook his head in denial. Doing something that Marcus has never seen before,
the Unmentionable removed his hat and pulled away the scarf that kept his identity secret.
Placing those items of clothing on the front desk, he resolutely burned off the Ministry
Badge on the heart of his Unmentionable robes, and then took the boots off his feet.

“I have been given the gift of rebirth. It was obvious that I was sent to die, but the father
above has shone his light favourably on me. I have yet much to do, for now I know a man
cannot comprehend what it means to truly live until he has stared death in the face. I
begged for mercy, Marcus. Literally got on my knees and begged. I have a daughter that I
love more than anything else, and I will not throw my life away twice in one day.”

With those words, he placed his muddy standard issue boots on the table. “I quit. Tell the
Minister that I am no longer loyal to her, and she should choose carefully which men's lives
she so impudently plays with, for this time- she has chosen unwisely.” He nodded, smiling
shakily. “The Commander will be here shortly. Have a nice day,” Zabini said in a hollow
voice, and simply walked through the congestion of arriving aurors as he made his way to
the floo fires.

Stepping into the green flames, he smiled in gratitude. He has been given a second chance
to appreciate his family. He would not waste it.
***********

Immediately outside the ministry of magic, an Auror from the Beastmaster division was
crouching over a grate on the pavement. He incanted a spell and struck the metal bars with
his wand. A low, echoing tone resonated from the grating, giving the impression that a huge
chamber laid underneath.

“Gnorkle! Borkle! Zorkle!” Hugh Van Der Shaaf called to his guard trolls. “Come on up!
About time Ulysses let you three stretch your legs!”

There was a roaring growl in response. Van Der Shaaf backed away as the two-tonned
creatures magically squeezed through a relatively tiny three-foot-wide manhole, traffic
swerving madly to avoid them. Van Der Shaaf chuckled, his prize pets finally having the
chance to do what they were meant to do.

“Now, orders: Protect Building! Smell enemy! Kill him on sight!”

The two other trolls nodded, both brandishing massive clubs. Their hide was covered with a
heavy, coarse bearskin and thick leather straps bound their massive feet.

“Stupid muggles and their pollutants...” Van Der Shaaf cursed, watching the traffic come to
a sudden halt, some motorists leaning far out the window as they gaped in awe of the eight
foot tall creatures. The three guard trolls stood to their full height, smelling the putrid
exhaust coming the crowded street. “We got strict orders,” Van der Shaaf said evilly, feeling
that burning sensation on his left forearm.

Ah..the good old days...

“No muggles are to be present in the immediate area. Clear it away boys, we'll just tell 'em
it was the intruder,” he snickered, motioning to the busy street. The Trolls roared in glee,
and as a unit smashed a foot unto the road, sending a tremendous magical shockwave in all
directions. After a rampage that lasted all of thirty seconds, thirteen cars, a bus, and twelve
other vehicles were smashed into bloody bits One vehicle managed to avoid the massacre,
and was gunning it hard as it sped away from the nightmare scene. Hugh laughed as his
pets guffawed at the carnage they created.

“Don't let him get away,” Hugh said, smiling. “~Remember: our little secret~” he added in a
sing song voice. One of the trolls picked up the crumpled remains of a Mini, and threw it in
a high arc after the speeding pickup. The bloody chassis landed a few metres in front of the
escaping vehicle with a tremendous crash. With no time to maneuver, the driver swerved
but could not possibly avoid the deadly obstacle. The truck's nose hit the wreck and angled
sharply downwards, the tail end thrown into the air, the tray flipping completely over as the
vehicle litterally capsized head over heels. With another deafening crash, it toppled,
throwing the driver headfirst out the windscreen.

“Excellent..a bit of muggle mashing to start the ball rolling,” Hugh mused, feeling his nerves
tingle with anticipation. With avid attention, he watched the upturned pickup seesaw on its
cabin as it balanced precariously in the huge crater created by the impact. After a few
seconds, a figure suddenly appeared next to the overturned pickup truck. Hugh frowned.
London was under a very strict Anti-apparition ward- no wizard he knew of could could
simply appear out of thin air....

Who the hell was that?

***********

Richard Narinesingh couldn't feel anything from the neck down. He was happy he couldn't,
because he could see his right leg was laying a few feet away. From what he could see of
the accident, his wife was dead, no doubts about that. She was buckled in, she could not
have escaped the crush. He never buckled in, that's why he was robbed of a quick and
painless death. Nevertheless, he was going to join her soon, that he knew. But first, he had
to talk to this person who stood above him, blocking out the fading light. He could have
sworn he appeared out of thin air, so he knew that he was on his way. Impossible visions
were acceptable at times like this, right?

Touching the crucifix pendant on his chain, he smiled up at the shadowy figure.

“Are..you..an angel? Am I already dead?”

“Angel ?” the blindfolded man asked, dropping low on his haunches. He thought for a
moment. He didn't know who he was, really. The only thing he knew for certain was that he
was the Commander of the Elite Division at the British Ministry of Magic.

Technically, as far as he knew- his whole life was nothing but a title.

“You...don't look..like an angel,” the dying man chuckled pathetically, blood leaking out his
nose. “A swordsman -maybe.. an angel... of death? But, ha ha..” he choked, smiling in his
final moments. “But...”

“ Go on.”

“I don't know- maybe I am dead already...Tell me this,” he whispered. “Azrael... he has a

sword.. a big...big sword..or..so they say...” he stammered, his eyes closing with the
adrenaline rushing through his mutilated limbs. “You have a sword..but ..your...eyes..are
covered...” he mused with a cough. “His eyes blazed... no.. they shone with righteous
fire...” Richard heard a sort of laugh from the stranger, more like a grumble of annoyance,
but it definitely had humorous undertones. What in the blazes was so funny?

“You're right- Azrael.. the angel of death did wield a sword.” The stranger braced his elbows
on his knees and interlocked his fingers, crouching casually over the dying man as he
spoke. “I have the blood of many on my hands, all in the name of justice and the will of a
higher power. Wherever I have gone, death is by my side. Your demise will not go
unforgotten, Richard...” the stranger said softly, his anger focused on his true target, the
nondescript building housing the Ministry of Magic.

“How did you know my name...? It can't be... did God really send you?” Richard said
desperately, his hand clutching the folds of the stranger's dark cloak tightly even as he felt
his life slipping away.
“You have wit, even up till the end, muggle. I will humor you, my good man, because as far
as I know, maybe I am he, because my eyes also burn with a righteous fire...”

The stranger removed his blindfold, surveying Richard with perpetually glowing eyes. Slowly
he felt all his suffering easing away, his hopes and dreams dying with his final breath....

“Yes. Go...he is calling you- ”

And with that, Richard Narinesingh saw his life flash before his eyes, and then he was gone.

*************

Back at the Ministry, Sherry Diggory was frantically organizing her forces for this unforeseen
attack when a tiny owl came zooming into her office. It dropped a small note, and then it
was gone. She opened it quickly, scanning the few words there.

Contact Marcus Schweinstieger on your private line. I have urgent information.

Looking across at Jeremy Kingsley, she frowned. What is he on about? Putting aside doubts,
she reached into her cupboard and procured a crystal ball. Waving her wand once above it,
it began to grow cloudy and gray, the lobby downstairs coming into view in its depths.

“Marcus, what is it? Who reported this alert?” Diggory demanded. Marcus looked slightly
intimidated as the small looking glass showed her angry face.

“Agent Zabini, ma'am,” Marcus said tentatively. “He's-”

“Put him on, immediately ” Diggory said imperiously. “I want to know what happened with-”

“As I was about to say; he has quit, Madame. There were only two survivors from his team,
and the other man is now being treated for trauma. I have no information on their mission,
or who was the opponent. Why are there dead-”

“Where is he now? What is the current status?” she asked desperately.

“I don't know. All I know he was an Unmentionable, and said he had 'another chance at life'.
He also left a message: 'you should choose carefully which men's lives you so impudently
play with, for this time- you has chosen unwisely.' Does this make sense to you?” Marcus
inquired. At that moment, Sherry Diggory's face changed dramatically, her eyes dilating and
her chin dropping a few millimeters. She gave Jeremy Kingsley a terrified look.

“What else did he say?” She asked with a forced calm, her throat noticeably constricting.

“Nothing much really. Oh wait- on the other hand, he did pass on good news- Commander
Potter should be back soon-” Marcus added with a more pleasant note. His short-lived smile
was quickly replaced by befuddlement as Sherry screamed from the looking glass.

“He's ALIVE?!”
************

“MASTER...SOMEONE...COMES,” Gnorkle, the smartest of the three trolls said uneasily.

“WIZARD...”

“Who? That guy?” Hugh asked flippantly. He dug into his robes, pulling out an omnoculars.
He zoomed in as the robed figure got up and proceeded to walk towards him.

“YES, MASTER.”

“He's pretty far..” Hugh said in self musing. “ Hold on, this guy has his eyes covered....I can
barely see his face.” A sudden feeling of uneasiness struck him, making his blood run cold.
Frowning, he noticed that from the way he moved, it is apparent that he was not having any
trouble navigating the rubble strewn all over the road. Was he really blind? Or was this
some sort of ruse?

Better not take any chances.

“Kill him -you three! Don't allow him to come near!” With a roar of glee, the three massive
trolls began to pound their way down the street, their clubs held brazenly over their heads.

The stranger paused mid stride, feeling the ground tremble as something came charging
down at him. The smell came next, then the faint magic power emanating from the semi-
sentient beings. Like specially trained attack dogs, he could feel their anxiousness and thrill
for the kill exuding from them. The rumbling pattern of their feet- very fast..no..not that it
was fast... more than one..and they weren't small either.

They were big...definitely two...maybe three...

As they drew closer, his other senses attuned to the situation. The stranger sensed out
again with magic. There was an acute familiarity with each other- they were a team. Highly
resistant to magic. Too large and too stupid for humans, and too small for giants. Not
intelligent enough to have morals, neither values. Simply a blood lust, a thirst for
violence...very, very dangerous.

Most likely Macedonian Trolls. Quite formidable opponents.

He no longer had any fancy moves.

He no longer had split-second reflexes.

That part of him was now gone, taking his vision along as a penalty.

But all in all, that did not matter.

He was the most gifted magi in the entire Auror fleet. Solidus or no Solidus, he commanded
an arsenal of magic that no one has ever come close to achieving, not even Voldemort
himself.

And now, with the Sword once again under his command, he would demonstrate to these
fools what it meant to wield true power.
The eyes of the Grim itself, and with it -the undeniable right to cast judgment on those who
would judge him, those who would sentence him to death without trial.

The stranger stood up, his hand closing on the hilt of the weapon strapped to his back.
Immediately he could feel its power grow, its shape and size changing to accommodate his
true intention. With a smooth movement, he pulled it out of the sheath. His fingers closed
tightly around the leather bound handle as the massive blade began to glow a blinding
white.

He drew it back with both hands, the once forbidden incantations left unspoken as he felt
magic surge through him.

Protego Maximus, Reducto Exertimus , Protego Exertimus, Reducto Maximus

With a fluid motion he brought the weapon up over his head then swung it downwards as
the magic words left his lips:

“Reducto Ultima.”

As the three huge Trolls converged on the intruder, Hugh Van Der Shaaf barely had a
chance to blink before that immense flash of light literally ripped him apart.

*************

Oblivious to what was happening right outside in the street, Jeremy Kingsley was trying his
best to keep Sherry Diggory calm.

“Don't worry, Madame Minister, we have activated the Impenetrable Ward on the entire
building. Nothing, or no one will be able to get in-”

At that moment, the entire western wall of the main hall imploded in a cloud of thick, brown
dust, mortar and broken bricks flying in at deadly speed. Most of the aurors screamed and
dove to the ground, responding instinctively to the attack. Kingsley barely had time to raise
his shield, protecting both himself and the minster from the lethal shrapnel. When the dust
had partially settled, he could see the building on the opposite side of the road had suffered
a similar fate, it's eastern face completely vaporized into rubble. A huge concave arc had
eaten away the road, including the infrastructure underneath the blacktop while the edges
of the buildings lining Oxford Street were smoking hotly, glowing red along broken walls and
structural beams.

Kingsley new what it was immediately. This was the telltale signature of the destructive arc
of the Ultima curse. As if temporarily shocked, the security ward finally kicked in and he
could hear the ministry voice announcing calmly through the halls:

Warning Warning. We are under attack. Perimeter breach on the western wing. S class
intruder approaching Ministry premises. All personnel, please evacuate in an orderly
fashion. Warning Warning. We are under attack. Perimeter brea-

Jeremy bundled up Sherry Diggory and turned to the elevators, hustling her inside. He had
to protect her!
-Warning. We are under attack. Perimeter breach on the-

“This way, Madame Minister. Let's get you to safety...” he whispered in a taut voice, literally
having to drag her in his arms, she was to scared to move. When the elevator door closed
and they were alone, Sherry Diggory slumped against the wall, her eyes low as she
contemplated the final few minutes of her life. She knew what was going to happen.

-class intruder approaching Ministry premises. All personnel, please evacuate-

Potter had arrived, and she was about to die, there was no question about that.

But if she were to die, she would go down in for a worthy cause. Taking out the Orb of
Obliteration, she drew her wand.

- On Ministry premises. All personnel, please evacuate in an orderly fashion. Warning-

“What are you doing?” Jeremy asked, looking at the cause for this whole disaster with an air
of doom.

“He wants this back. But I swore on my family's grave that I would not rest until they were
avenged,” she looked into the swirl of memories pensively, knowing that with her last act of
defiance, she was damning all of her enemies to suffer as she did.

“Celiuria dese asien Levieum Obliviimar! Celiuria dese asien Neverium Oblivimar asi
Resuscitarius! ”

Kingsley's eyes widened as the severity of that curse really settled in. “NO!” Without
hesitation, he drew his wand “ Expelliarmus!” The minister was thrown back forcefully into
the corner of the elevator, the orb falling out of her hands. Picking it up, he rapped his wand
on it, trying to counter the forbidden curse she had put on it. “Have you gone mad?!” he
screamed.

“Too late, Jeremy. Too late...once Potter get his hands on that, every time he looks at it, or
even thinks about looking at - he will be consumed with the obligation to continue my work.
He will rid this world of those Dark wizards, he will not find rest ..” she laughed contentedly-
“until every last one of this generation is dead.”

“My god, Sherry- what have you done! This was our bargaining piece! Now you've gone and
cursed it?!” Kingsley screamed, looking down at her with utmost disgust. In that fleeting
moment, the last two years of his life finally made complete sense. She had planned this
from the beginning. All of her attempts to have him under her control, all of the drugs, the
Obliviation attempts, all of it was for this.

Absolute control of The Boy Who Lived -the only one capable of stopping Voldemort.

“You would do all this..for Cedric?” Kingsley asked sadly, finally realizing the scope of her
grief, and the true state of mind of the Minister of Magic. How could he have been so blind?

“You have to understand, Jeremy, I loved my family more than life itself. Could you believe
it when Fudge tried to cover it up, disregarding his life as if it were merely dust he was
sweeping under the carpet? I couldn't- how could I ? I swore I would have my revenge,
before Amos- before Cedric. I cursed myself with a sacrifice of blood to initiate the spell – a
willful offering onto their graves and henceforth fortifying my firm resolve.” She grimaced in
pain , then whispered a faint counter-curse. Her left hand slowly withered away, leaving a
badly healed stub of her left forearm. Kingsley knew she was determined and a strong
woman, but never suspected that she was capable of doing this....

“You really are insane...” Kingsley said in a shaky voice, his eyes narrowing on hers. He
grimaced, chastising himself for not seeing it earlier. “You had me, no ..not only me, Potter,
Dumbledore...you fooled us all. You did, didn't you?” He questioned accusingly. “The
Demonic Rite: The Vow unto to the Dead,” Kingsley took a step back, feeling his pores raise
in anxiety. “Dark magic..traits of a tainted soul....”

As soon as he said it out aloud, Jeremy knew he had made a terrible mistake. Suddenly, he
saw a vision of dozens of snakes on her head flash before his eyes. Before he could react, it
was already too late, he was frozen, rooted to the spot.

The Medusa Curse...

“Sorceress...” he gnashed out between his teeth. Sherry Diggory smiled sweetly.

“No..just a loving mother who would do anything for her son,” she said softly, then pointed
her wand.

In all of his years as a Far Seer, the one thing Jeremy Kingsley never would have predicted
was being assassinated by the one whom he was sworn to protect.

Potter..I'm sorry...

As the green light ripped his life away, his killer began to cry in sorrowful mirth, her sobs
coming hard and fast as a once brave wizard toppled over, murdered by her own hand.

She had risked everything, done the impossible, but ultimately, she knew that this was for
the best. Cedric would still be alive today if Barty Crouch Jr was executed after his
sentencing, as he should have been, according to the verdict handed down by the
Wizengamot. That fool Fudge; no, not only him- the whole Ministry had believed Crouch's
pathetic tale of unwillingly being under Voldemort's control. If they weren't so gullible, if
they were strong like as she was, if they really had the guts to do it, he would have been
dead, and none of this would have ever happened.

Her son would have been Tri-Wizard Champion, and Eternal Glory would be associated with
their namesake. She would have had a family to be proud of, a family to love, instead of
eternal hatred.

Potter was the one who should have died, but unfortunately, he survived. So be it. That was
in the past. Right now, her mission was complete.

One way or another, she had played the cards to bring upon the death of all Dark Wizards,
even if it meant that in the end, she must become one herself. Sherry Diggory looked down
at the body of one of the Ministry's finest and most loyal Aurors: Jeremy Kingsley. Now she
had sealed her own fate. She knew what Potter was here for. Knowing that her chances
were slim, she picked up the Orb of Memories and went inside her office. Healing the bruise
on her face with a flippant wave of her wand, she prepared herself for her meeting with Mr.
Potter. With a sigh of finality, she sat down at her desk, and settled in to wait, her fingers
wrapped around her most prized possession.
*************

Downstairs, hundreds of Aurors were at the ready, their wands trained on the now non-
existent western wall, waiting for the source of this threat. After nearly a full minute of
waiting, a single silhouette began to take shape in the smoky rubble, a hooded figure
making his way calmly over the destroyed remains of the street. Almost as if on cue, spells
began to rain down on the shadowy figure, numerous bolts of magic searing out of the once
hidden Ministry of Magic. After what must have been a volley of a hundred curses, the
figure finally toppled over, another cloud of dust rising as the intruder fell in the debris.

“WE GOT HIM!” Joseph Ulfalusi exclaimed, his wand smoking with the amount of curses he
managed to release in such a short span of time. With a shout of triumph , the Aurors
began to congratulate themselves, those brave enough to advance taking the opportunity to
investigate and make sure that he was really dead. With all the commotion focused on the
gaping entrance, no one paid any mind when a lone figure emerged from the rear shadows
and calmly entered the elevator behind them.

“Good evening, welcome to the ministry of magic. Please state your destination floor,” said
the building’s soft female voice, overlapping the repetitive evacuation announcement.

“Minister of Magic's Office.”

“Please state your name and clearance code for direct access.”

“S.T.A.R. Elite Commander, Class 2 clearance. Code 5-5-6-7-9-3.”

“Good Evening, Commander. Access granted.”

The elevator ride was brief, and he calmly walked out the door. With no pre-emptive
warning, the ambush was sprung and the stranger had only a hearbeat to react. The first
attack came in from the left, while a blinding flash of light sizzled at him from directly in
front. Flashing the mantle of the Phoenix, he deflected the Paralysis Curse with ease and
ducked as the Killing curse illuminated the empty elevator with a searing blaze.

This felt familiar ...

'...Protego, assimiliar incante reflecto sonorous maximus replicate allevio...'

A shield blocked the Reductor curse that came in next, while the Silencing hex was reflected
back unto the caster on his right. There was a sudden warping of reality as an identical
image split apart from him and with precise, co-ordinated movements, the two blind
swordsmen drew their weapons. A flash of steel - a vertical strike downwards severed the
hand from the wrist and with the following horizontal strike, their chests were opened.

Two men died on the spot, clutching their torsos as their lungs collapsed. With a dull thud,
both men fell to the ground; not even given the chance to scream. The final member of the
ambush froze on the spot.

“...Potter !?” Rebecca Lestrange said hoarsely, her voice not believing it. “What-” she said in
confusion, her wand quavering in her hand. “No..”

The duplicate faded away, and the stranger stood alone with the one of the few people he
did remember clearly.

“Rebecca, that name means nothing to me anymore,” he said sadly. “It was all so quick, but
now it is too late- those two were Sol and Steven, weren't they?”

Rebecca backed away slowly, her whole body quavering in shock. It couldn't be, but it was
him...she could feel the magical Life debt that she vowed to him freeze her movements,
making her virtually defenseless.

She could not strike down this man!

“It could have been avoided, but they were betrayed by the Minister herself. She has tricked
you all, has tried to turn you against me. She knew her time is near, sent nameless faces
before- and now you three- to try and stop me. Rebecca, listen to me,” he said slowly. “She
wants me dead. I am sure of it.”

“N-no...” Rebecca denied, her eyes widening in shock. Where was this unnatural feeling
coming from? Her eyes focused on the massive weapon in his hands, the double edged
blade easily four feet in length. Fighting past the fear, Rebecca found her voice. ”I'll stop
you!”

No you won't Put down your weapon

The voice rang inside her head so powerfully that she dropped her wand , petrified to the
spot.

Follow me You will hear the truth

Rebecca Lestrange numbly followed him through the luxurious sitting room outside the
Minister's office, her head dipped meekly in submission. He stood outside the door, his
posture rigid with annoyance.

“Sherry? Can you hear me? You made a horrible choice,” he said darkly, his hand testing
the handle. It was locked. “Come now, do I really need to destroy this door? After all we've
been through, can't we simply sit down and talk like reasonable adults?”

On the other side of the door, Sherry Diggory was crouched low in a corner, her arms
wrapped around her knees as she trembled in fear. He wanted to talk? Talk? She highly
doubted that. Her teeth rattled as she could see the shadow-play at the base of the door to
her office.

He was right outside.

The Chosen one, the 'Hero' who could destroy them all if he wanted to.

And he just told her in a very calm voice that she made a horrible choice.

Her: a Class B magi with only a knack for post-mortem potions and Magical Psychology.
Nothing but an Auror dropout who barely scraped through Basic Defense Against the Dark
Arts at Lionheart- was going to stop that man with a door magicked with the Imperturable
charm?

Who the fuck was she kidding?

Submitting to her fate, she unfolded herself from the floor, and gingerly inched across the
room to begin negotiations.

Before she was even ten feet close to the door, an iron grip enclosed around her throat.
Pressure began to build up at her temples, air struggling to enter her lungs as she felt her
toes leave the floor. Her head began to swim as she was levitated higher and higher, her air
passage burning as oxygen was forced out of her lungs. Trying in vain to counter the curse
with her wand, she began to cry in trepidation as the door opened easily, allowing the
hooded figure to enter inside the office.

“I allowed myself in, if you didn't mind. I grew impatient with this unnecessary stalling,” he
said in mock apology. “Tell me what you have done to the record of my memories,” he
added politely, the tone deadly serious.

“I..I have it..there..!” she croaked desperately, pointing to the desk she was currently
levitating over. Her neck felt as if it were about to snap!

“It's here? Lucky you.” His head angled towards Rebecca.

Bring me the orb in the drawer

Rebecca opened it, and produced a glowing orb full of memories. Harry immediately forgot
about the minister, and she fell unceremoniously on the table, bouncing hard on her side
and falling to the ground. Reaching for it, he grabbed hold of the object. As soon as he did,
he felt a tremendous jolt of pure magic surge through him.

“What is this...?” he screamed, dropping the glowing object unto the plush carpet as his
temples began to pound mercilessly. He fell to his knees, holding his head as pain
consumed him.

“Thank you..you have completed the spell. My legacy will not die...” Sherry said smugly,
trying to catch her breath.

“What''s going on?” Rebecca said, a bystander in the midst of a potentially lethal situation.

“And here I thought, you would go down quietly...” Harry said, his voice trembling in
amusement as the Resuscitarius Curse ran through him.. “I underestimated you..Diggory...

“The book you will now seek is in the there...” Sherry said. “It will be you purpose..your sole
objective in life. It will be your drug...every time you delve into the past, my will reinforces
itself...” Sherry Diggory laughed hoarsely, a triumphant smile on her face. “You will finish
what you started, Commander. You will hunt them down! The Azkaban escapees..dark
wizards..all of them! I want revenge for my son!”

“Revenge? You will send your own men to die- even... wait!” he mused, his head now being
bombarded by the curse trying to influence him to do her bidding. “What is this..?” he
stiffened, the most vivid incidents in her recent history running through his mind. He walked
over to the cupboard, and waved his hand. The door opened and the body of the Far Seer
Jeremy Kingsley fell out. “What do we have here?”
“Jesus Christ!” Rebecca gasped, looking at Jeremy's still-open eyes. Her knees began to
tremble, her hands coming up to cover her mouth.

Sol... Warshire...now Kingsley... they're all dead...

“You, managed to kill Jeremy? My my my... been busy tonight, haven't we?” he said in a
wry tone. “Even for a novice, stuffing a dead body into a cupboard is definitely a foolish
thing to do, Sherry. Your spell casting is potent, I admit that. But sooner or later, I will
break this curse you have on me. You cannot control me forever. Unlike the other pieces in
your game of chess, I will not bow before you and grovel.”

At this, his voice dipped an octave, an unearthly grumble coming from his mouth.

“I fear no one, not even the devil himself...”

With hand outstretched, he summoned the Tome of Azkaban from the shelf on the opposite
side of the office. Taking a feather quill from the very same ink bottle on the minister's
desk, he scribbled a single name unto the front page. “But first, I will like to conduct a little
experiment to see if what you say is true. ”

Sherry Rosalda Diggory

“Let's now test your Resuscitarius, shall we, madame Minister? Your name has now been
joined unto the ranks,” he smiled, closing the Azkaban book with a flourish.

With unnerving patience, he removed his blindfold and picked up the Orb of memories.
Staring hard into it, a memory jolted back into his head:

....A hail of letters rained down in the room..he was jumping up ..trying to grab
one..someone had sent him his very first post!

As that memory came flooding back into him, a sudden desperation took over and he
pounced. So quick was his movements that Rebecca didn't have a chance to blink before he
lunged right on top of the minister, impaling her through the chest with the Sword of
Gryffindor. Rebecca couldn't believe it. She just couldn't believe it- Harry just murdered the
minister of magic right before her eyes!

Sherry Diggory coughed hard with the mortal injury. A chunk of blood flew out of her
mouth, finally soiling Harry's robes. As death began to caress his scaly fingers over her
heart, Sherry focused on the two glowing eyes hovering over her, his voice going further
and further away with each word he spoke.

“Your curse works perfectly,” he said in a defeated tone. “No Dark wizard will rest easy
while I live. Now that you have tried my patience over past two years, answer me one
question before you die, Minister...”

“Was the price of vengeance worth your life ?” he hissed.

Sherry smiled back, resting her palm affectionately on the blurred image of her son's face
as she died. Harry Potter watched her die, his eyes showing no emotion. Rebecca finally
found the courage to move. She raced across the room and pushed Harry off her. Even
though she knew it was too late, she checked Mrs. Diggory pulse for signs of life, the huge
sword buried deep in her chest. With a yell, she grabbed the murder weapon and yanked it
back out of her. Harry's eyes widened as she held it in her hands, then unceremoniously
threw it away.

What- she could hold the sword? How is that possible?

Unless...

Come here

Rebecca turned around, looking at him as he just sat there, his body still in an unorthodox
position from when she pushed him.

“H-how are you doing that?”she said as she walked erratically towards him. “How are you
ordering me inside my head?”

“You...you can look into my eyes?” he asked darkly. The curse had no affect on her?

“Harry- what has possessed you? Don't you know that the entire ministry will hunt you
down? Hunt the both of us down!? Do you know what you have done? Have you gone
mad?!”

Without warning, Harry grabbed the sides of her face, holding her head steady as he gazed
into those peculiar eyes of hers.

Nothing. She didn't even blink.

“What are you doing?” she said. “Let me go!”

"Quiet. I am going to tell you something very important. You are the only one exempt from
the curse I bear. I think your promise has somehow entwined your life with mine, and your
loyalty to me has excluded you from certain death. You should be grateful."

“You're insane!” Rebecca declared, trying to convince herself more than anyone else.

“Insane? I have been cursed with the eyes of the Grim,” he said sadly. “I must wear the
blindfold or else...I'll kill everything in my sight. This is what the minister has brought upon
me, including taking all the pleasant memories of my life, leaving me in a constant
nightmare. As you can see..there is now a catch: for every memory that I want back from
the orb- I must slay a dark wizard in return. The Resuscitarius curse: even in death...she
still holds reins over me.” He took her hand in his. “Rebecca... are you with me? Do not fear
retribution from the ministry. I will protect you.”

Her promise had backfired on her. Even in this radical change of circumstances- the Pledge
of Allegiance she promised him ran deep in her blood, reinforced by the previous
generations of her ancestors straight down the Lestrange family line.

Like him, she was now cursed into doing another's bidding for the rest of her life.

She nodded, dipping her eyes sadly, her manner resolute even in defeat. He nodded back.
That is how it should be.
“I must address the men downstairs.”

“Are you crazy? They'll kill us!”

“They know nothing of what has happened here.”

Rebecca said nothing but followed meekly as he entered the elevator. “What if they suspect
you? They know you're the only that can do the Ultima curse!”

The elevator took them to the main lobby, and the doors opened them unto a scene of mass
confusion.

“They also know that even with their combined strength, it still won't be enough to stop me.
They will hear me speak, whether they want to or not.Sonorous! ”

“TO ALL MEMBERS OF THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC !” he shouted, the booming sound catching
them unawares. The Aurors faced him, uncertainty mixed with a sense of panic etched on
their faces.

“The Minister of Magic has sent ten men to assassinate me, and by doing so, broken the
trust between a soldier and his commanding officer. In self defense, I have defeated the
would-be killers, and brought justice upon the traitor in our midst. It is my job as the
commander of the S.T.A.R. Elite to protect the innocent from those who will harm them.”

“ She has been executed by my hand, with the use of this sword.” There was a sudden
uproar and many wizards pointed their wands at him, ready to strike. He brandished the
sword, and it began to glow hotly in the fading twilight. “What is done is done. I strongly
advise each and every one of you to stand down and do not provoke me further. I have
risked life and limb for this Ministry, for all of you - for that woman...and this is how she
repays me? With killers? With deception?"

“Many people in the past have doubted my ability to command the best the ministry has to
offer. I have shown you proof that my powers are not to be scoffed at. Think about all the
years you have trained to sharpen your skills, think of all the hardships you endured to
achieve your goals. Before any of you really consider attacking me, contemplate on what I
have accomplished during the past two years, and remember that on this day, I had you at
my mercy, but I mercifully spared your lives.”

"There will be some of you who will oppose me. Let me forewarn those with such idotic
notions. Voldemort himself could not do it, so who are you to interfere?"

"To those who remember me as the man called Harry Potter know what I am capable of -
and my efforts has brought us many a victory on the battlefield.”

“That man is no more. The minister has killed him off nearly a month ago. Now, I live for
one thing: to bring swift justice to those who would dare attack the innocent, the evildoers
with nothing but vindictiveness in their hearts. In this book are the names of the Azkaban
detainees, and it will be my job to make sure that all are accounted for, one way or the
other.Rodulphus, if you are listening..."

"I will find you."

*******************

A few weeks later, the rising sun was peeking over the horizon; it's gentle rays bathing the
two people who stood on the crest of the hill. Godric's Hollow was once a place of life, a
place of happiness. Now, all that remained, was dilapidated houses and abandoned
storefronts, weeds and wild grass taking over everywhere that their roots could take hold.

The Dark Lord Azrael paused, pulling back his hood and removing his blindfold. He stood
there silently, overlooking the abandoned town until he zeroed in on the place he was
looking for. There were so many unsolved mysteries and lost years tormenting him all at
once that to even begin putting a clarity to all of this, he had to start from the beginning.
The one tangible memory of his early years was the name of this place, and that this was
where his fate was determined. With his eyes focused only on a quaint two story house, he
walked down the grassy knoll, the grass he trod underfoot wilting and turning ashy gray in
his wake.

“This is where it began, Rebecca. This is where my fate has been decided when I was a
child.”

“Yes...where your parents...”

“Were murdered, correct. Why was I chosen? Who exactly were my parents? These
nightmares haunt me still. I need to retrace my life, put the memories back in place. My
early years....” Lord Azrael said sadly. “I can clearly remember my first duel, I burnt the
face off a man with my bare hands. I was eleven. I do not know why we fought, only the
fact that I was very young.”

“We will find more answers soon. When will you next revisit the Orb?”

“Not for a while. I must build the self restraint. I have slain three reformed men already,
their only sin was that their names were in that book. I must find peace, then I shall be rid
of this curse.”

Walking down the dirty and tumbleweed littered street, it came to him that he suited this
place. It was only fitting that one who commanded the Grim should walk down the
boulevard of a ghost town. Feeling the dusty wind bite at his exposed face, he approached
the two story building, looking at through hollow eyes. There was murder here, this was a
place of violence. He could feel it whispering to him. The magical aura that surrounded this
place spoke volumes- he was in the right place. Here he would find answers.

“What about Rodulphus?” Rebecca asked, holding unto the arm of the robed figure at her
side as they entered.

“Yes....very slippery. Ash... Hargreaves..Rodulphus... and now yet another...”

“Draco, I know. He has been experimenting with that tourist island in the Pacific....”
Crossing the threshold, he opened the door and they entered the run down house.
“Malfoy has grown strong. His command of the Infernus have proved troublesome, with one
summoning...seven thousand dead overnight,” Lord Azrael said softly. "A whole island,
vanished from the face of the earth."

“Will you face him?” Rebecca asked. She knew her brother was helping him, she knew
Malfoy could not do it by himself. When Harry found Malfoy...he'll find her brother, and he
will settle things.

“Yes. But I am not yet ready. I must find a way to regain my sight, and efficiently negate
this curse before I face them again. But that is not the only reason I came here for. ”

Lord Azrael turned to his sole companion, the only person on the entire earth who he could
cast his eyes on without the fear of death.

“I will continue the cycle. I do not know when the earth would take my flesh once again, but
before that time comes, my legacy will flourish, with you as the mother for my child.”

Rebecca didn't know what to say. There was a time when what she wanted more than ever
was to be the mother of his children. Now, that fantasy was twisted inside out. She felt a
strong attraction to him, but knew that their child would suffer for it.

She wanted him, always did. But like this, it would be cruel to have them raise a son in this
time of darkness. Even so, his will was her own, she was forever bound to him by magic.
She would willingly bear him a son.

“I am honoured, m'lord.”

*********************

Back in London, the Order of the Phoenix had gone into hiding. Many of the members were
undercover, desperately trying to locate the names of Azrael's intended victims before it
was too late. Finding wizards and witches who admitted that they were once detained in
Azkaban were rare, because it was widely known that only those people should fear swift
retribution from the Dark Lord. No one was willing to give away that information- especially
if it were true, even though the Order would try to protect them. As far as the public knew,
the Dark Lord Azrael singlehandedly destroyed Oxford Street, murdered the Minister of
Magic as well as the S.T.A.R. Elite, while the entire Auror fleet was congregated a few floors
below. And to add insult to injury, it was reported he walked out the front door on his way
out. It was rumoured that he was nigh invincible, a literal Angel of Death.

Albus Dumbledore was at Hogwarts, his eyebrows furrowed in thought as he tried to

decipher a code found in the ruins of Azkaban. He himself had to penetrate the Dementor's
lair, for he knew that the book Potter used was enchanted with an ancient Icelandic curse.

If he could only find who created that book, he could find a way to identify the names, and
henceforth try to predict who Potter would strike next. Giving his eyes a break, he closed
them briefly as he waited for the knock to come on his door. That boy...he didn't know how
to properly control the Ravenclaw magic as yet? He definitely had to work on that or else an
enemy would be able to detect him from a mile away.

Knock Knock-

“Come in, Weasley.”

“Sir,” Ron said respectfully, “I have some disturbing news. Here, she put everything in a
letter.”

Albus,

I can no longer be part of this effort. My life has changed dramatically over the past few
months, and I cannot live here anymore. I know what my failure has cost you, cost
everyone, and once again, I cannot express my sorrow in not meeting your expectations.
By the time you receive this post, I would have already left Britain. To maintain security, I
will correspond through Ron if you need any information. Do not contact me directly.

I was not strong enough. I should have stopped him. Once again, i am sorry.

Please do not think I am doing this because I am afraid. As I said before, circumstances
have changed. It is no longer my life alone I must consider. I make this decision not for my
own protection, but also for my unborn child. He will find us if he knows.

Goodbye.
H.

**********************

Two months later, the Senior members of the Order of the Phoenix were congregated in a
Catholic church. Dumbledore, The Weasleys (excepting Ron and Ginny who were on
mission), Maureen Chang, Joseph Ulfalusi, Sean Creevy, the entire staff at Hogwarts,
Marcus Schweinstieger and fifteen other members were present to celebrate Remus and
Tonks' wedding.

As wedding vows were exchanged and they kissed, a lone person entered the cathredral
doors. It was a man of above average height, and around his body was a jacket strapped
with a few kilos of explosives.

Dumbledore was the first to recognize this man. Dudley Dursely charged the numerous
wizards with a blood splitting scream.

An Eye..for an Eye..

At that moment, Harry Potter woke up from slumber. In a flash, he was gone.

As soon as Dudley came within fifteen feet of the alter, he released the button depressed in
his right hand. With a flash of light and flame, Dudley Dursley exploded, destroying the
church in the process.
Further down the road, two wizards laughed. Rodulphus Lestrange and Draco Malfoy gave a
short, but vibrant round of applause.

"Told you he could do it. Didn't even have to use any magic," Rodulphus teased, nudging his
compatriot with his elbow.

"Apparently so. Hmmmm...how come they could not detect him?"

"His mother was an expert at concealment. I'm sure up to this point her magic still lingers
over Dursley. That was the reason why we have never found Potter back when he was
young, when he was still vulnerable." He looked up to the sky, closing his eyes in his
moment of triumph. "Potter..my dear boy..." he mused, pulling his beard.

" 'You will find me' huh? WELL? Here I am!" he shouted towards the sky. "Where are
YOU !?"

Lestrange once again began to laugh uncontrollably. Malfoy turned his back on the ramins
of the smoldering church. Finally. He has had enough of Dumbledore and his so called
'Order'.

"Cut it out. We're finished here," Malfoy commanded. His companion caught himself after a
few moments, and agreed with a smile.

"Yes yes..off to yet another adventure!" and with a crack, both of them disappeared.

***********

When the smoke was clear, one man stood alone, completely covered in ash. Albus
Dumbledore had miraculously survived the attack, and he was frantically picking through
the rubble for anyone else who had also managed to shield themselves from the blast. With
only bloody pieces left behind of the small attendance, Albus Dumbledore felt his heart fall
in his stomach. It was the most horrifying thing he had ever seen in his life.

Tears formed as he realized that he was now alone, his dear friends gone in the space of a
few seconds. Caught in a daze, his heart tried to deny the information his extensive mind
was repeating over and over in his head.

Dead..you could not save them..not one...All of them..gone..where is your wisdom

now...Wise fool Dumbledore...

With the weight of this tragedy numbing his rational thought, it took him a few minutes to
notice the tattered remains of a cloak of the order of the Phoenix. This clue brought a faint
glimmer of hope.

No one present was in full Order uniform today....

There may be a slight chance that all was not lost.

***********************

...Help..

Help.. ME...

REBECCA!

Rebecca Lestrange was downstairs at the former Potter residence when she was brutally
attacked by this pounding voice in her head. At first the pain was so severe she thought she
was going to pass out. Gathering her senses about her, she dissapparated with a crack.

She reappeared on a grassy knoll overlooking an obliterated church, the smoke and ash still
falling thickly. A few metres away, a man was laying quite still, his body twitching in
convulsive spasms.

Next to the man, a baby boy was crying loudly.

“HARRY!” She screamed, running towards him. As she looked at his face, she almost
fainted. A piece of a Crucifix was lodged into the left side of his face as he quivered
restlessly in a state of shock.

“...take...it out..”

“Shhh...lay still..I'll get help,” she said reassuringly, wrining her hands in panic. Who was
that child?

“I said...TAKE IT OUT !” he screamed, grabbing her hand in a vice like grip. “Use the
Extractor Charm... then..the suture charm... you can do it..”

“I don't know.. if it's in deep..and I remove it badly...you could die..”

“If I pass out, I will die, woman! Take this fucking thing out of my face! NOW!”

Rebecca drew her wand, and did as was told. The moment the bloody piece of metal was
extracted, Rebecca's whole universe went dark, and she was transported into a dimension
of fire and unending devastation. The next moment, she was back in the real world, Harry
desperately grabbing his injured face.

She couldn't believe it- a magical scream. She looked down at her robes..they were singed
from the flames alright. That wasn't a hallucination.

“Harry?” she probed warily, half out of fear and the other half in genuine concern. His face
was bleeding profusely! He struggled to his feet, holding his mutilated face as blood dripped
through his fingers."The Suture charm..I need to close it up!"

“Lucky, lucky..." he laughed, knowing this was probably the closest he has been to dying in
maybe two years. "Don't worry about me and pick up the baby. His name is Apollo, Apollo
Daniel Lupin." Rebecca looked at the child, her jaw dropping in awe.

"Was that... Nymphadora's wedding that was attacked!?" she said, even though she knew
the answer.
"The moment I ported in... I saw them- for a brief moment, Lestrange and Malfoy- but for
now, I must rest. Take us home Rebecca. From now on, I will raise this child...”

****To Be Continued...****

Author's Note: The Grim Is Finished. I think the extra time I took to write this one was
necessary. Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed this arc! Once again, I must
thank you so much for the support guys, I thoroughly enjoyed writing this story, and if it
weren't for you, I may not have even finished.

Respect!

-Nicholas.

http://www.harrypotterfanfiction.com