Sorry it's been a bit on this...but, other things got in the way. Thanks to Lady Starlight for her work
on this chapter.
Chapter 24: Once more into the Breach...
*****************DADA Professor's Quarters***********************
August 15, 2019
10:30pm
In the light of a roaring fire, a fire that amazingly seemed to give no heat, Harry sat staring into the dancing flames. In his callused left fingers, a wand twirled, spinning to some inner rhythm. Hermione was lying on the couch, her head in his lap, her eyes watching the flames as well. Neither of them had spoken since returning from the meeting in Dumbledore's office, in voice or thought. Absently, in his other hand, brunette curls twirled, as they lay curled together. Finally Harry spoke, softly, hesitantly. "Hermione..."
"Yeah?" She whispered as her eyes flicked upward to his. He had not looked down at her; his gaze had never left the flames.
"I don't want to do this."
"Don't want do what, Harry?" Even though she already knew.
"Go on this damn fool quest of Dumbledore's to find some Orb..." Harry shrugged bitterly as several logs crackled and popped in the fire. "Why can't someone else be the bloody hero, I want to see my kids, I've already missed so much." Harry's voice was strained as he paused, watching tears blossoming in the corner of her eyes, and knowing that his must be doing the same. Collecting himself, he went on. "I mean he could send someone else, the twins or Lupin, or...and if we do go and he does bring in all those kids, who will defend the place?"
"Dumbledore will be here," Hermione whispered back, but from her tone, Harry didn't need the ability to read her thoughts to hear the hesitance in those words. He squeezed her shoulder, supportively.
"Yeah he will, but he's getting old Hermione...this has taken too much from him," he stated sadly, the words almost forced from his throat.
"I know."
****************************Hogwarts, Great Hall********************
September 1, 2019
7:00 pm
A long line of awed young students filed into the vast Great Hall, a hall that, for the first time in seven years was set to welcome a new class of students. The long line was unusual as for the first time in many; many years there were as many, or more, older students than there were the traditional eleven-year-olds that had populated the new classes.
As they entered, many of them automatically looked up, at the charmed ceiling showing the brilliant night sky outside, at the Hufflepuff banners hanging from the rafters symbolizing the last house to win the House Cup, at the lighted sconces lining the walls filled with multi-colored flames. Several of them whispered and pointed at the four long tables lining the halls and at the few students already seated at the one furthest on the right.
At the head of the room, the old Head Table was back, with Dumbledore's golden throne occupied as normal by the ancient wizard. In a change from his normal practice, Fawkes was perched on the tall back of his chair, looking out over the room. Off to Dumbledore's right, an empty seat sat, with Harry and Hermione sitting quietly together next to McGonagall's chair. On the other side of them, Ron and Luna were sitting together, talking rather loudly about Snorkacks and debating if there was a wild herd in the Forest. On Dumbledore's other side, Sirius and Cordelia sat together looking out over the hall. Sirius was pointing at something at the Gryffindor house table, relating some prank he had performed while here.
Dumbledore stood while McGonagall placed an ancient, torn floppy hat on a conjured stool. She looked to him and nodded, before she went to stand at the side, waiting. Dumbledore looked to the line of students crowded down the center of the aisles, and smiled, raising his arms for silence. "Welcome, to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. During your years here, you will learn Magic, and hopefully, wisdom." He waved around the room at the long house tables, "In more settled times, there would already be classmates waiting for you, but for now, know that, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin," indicating each table in turn, "that no matter what affiliation you may be assigned in the next few minutes, know that Hogwarts is one school." He pointed at the waiting hat, "When Professor McGonagall calls your name, please come forward and the hat will be placed on your head and your house be chosen. Please go to your House Tables."
McGonagall looked to the hat and watched as the torn and dirty fabric stretched and turned before a rip near the brim opened and it began to sing:
Once long ago, I sat here thus...
Amid hearts broken and crushed...
A dark tide defeated but not forgotten...
Tonight we come full circle again...
Once more the Lion and Eagle stand alone...
Waiting for the end to begin...
United we must be once again...
Or the end that has begun will never end...
Stand once more together as the Fortress of Light lives once more...
Or the night shall rule forever more...
The hat fell silent, and in the host of students, facility and staff present that night, the majority looked on blankly, unfamiliar with the Hat's tendencies. Hermione cut her eyes over to Harry, and gave him a tiny shrug, as the song seemed familiar. She glanced out into the hall to see Horatio carefully watching the hat, while Emilia was leaning over talking to Harriet. The rest of the few Gryffindors already present were talking and laughing softly. Elliot was looking longingly at his empty plate, waiting for the sorting to end. Hermione glanced over and caught Ginny's eye where she was sitting with Neville, Remus and Tonks at the very end of the Gryffindor table, and mouthed, "He's related to Ron." Ginny rolled her eyes and nodded, before turning back to her tablemates.
McGonagall took a breath, and glanced down at a ledger floating at her elbow, "Abercrombie, Denise." A timid, dark-haired girl slipped forward at Dumbledore's wave and soft smile and sat on the stool. McGonagall placed the hat on the girl's head. Everyone from the youngest new first year to the ancient wizard watched as the hat frowned, paused and...
"RAVENCLAW..." Applause broke out from the faculty and guests as the girl smiled shyly and went over to sit at the table just across the aisle from Harriet. Her robes automatically took on the sapphire and bronze trim of her new house as a proud eagle appeared on her lapel.
The sorting of the next three hundred or so students took an long time, as the hat kept considering its opinions. In the end, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff gained in one night, almost eighty students apiece, instantly filling in their ranks from first to seventh years, even though, for now, the distinction was purely on age, not academic experience. Slytherin house still lived as well, even though few of the children that had been placed in it seemed happy with the hat's choice, as another forty-two students found their new homes in the dungeon of Hogwarts. The new wearers of the green and silver sat talking worriedly amongst themselves, looking fearfully at the other tables until Harry caught Dumbledore's eye, nodded and stood.
Harry jumped down from the Head Table and paced over to the Slytherins and waved them in. He looked back at Draco, who would be filling both the Slytherin Head's and the Potions slots for the foreseeable future and motioned for his former rival to join them. Harry looked at Dumbledore and waved, holding the elder wizard from giving his new speech for a moment. Harry returned his nod, gave Hermione a soft smile and jumped up on the Slytherin table. "There is something that I feel I need to say," He said in a utterly normal tone of voice, though every ear heard him as if he were standing next to them. "These ladies and gentlemen," he grinned slightly, "and Draco here," Draco shook a fist at him, before leaning on his ebony cane, "were chosen for Slytherin. This does not mean that they are evil...it means that they are ambitious, that they have a desire to prove themselves. Any of you could have entered this house; it is not dishonorable, nor evil." Harry waved over the now seated students and then at the faculty table, "Over the thousand years of this school, there have been Dark Wizards who have been born in this house, but that can be said for any of the houses, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff alike. It is not what a piece of enchanted cloth says that determines our fate, but our choices." Harry looked around, paused to let the point sink in, "Now let's eat."
Dumbledore rose and started to applaud as Harry leapt from the table, stopping from doing a flip off of the top at a small headshake from his wife, and muttered something to Draco. Draco nodded and sat at the table of his House and began to chat with his new students. Cho and Parvati came and joined him after a few minutes and were soon engaged in conversation with several older girls. Dumbledore did not say a word, but looked on approvingly before he waved his hand and watched as platters of food appeared from the kitchens below.
Good job, Love, Hermione whispered as Harry took his seat next to her. She reached down under the table and squeezed his hand for an instant before dropping it and looking up around the room.
Harry glanced over at her, his cheeks slightly colored in embarrassment, I only said the truth, Mione; either of us could have entered that house just as easily. I'm not going to let that animosity take hold again if I can help it, he added as he took a rather long sip of the mead he retrieved from its placement at his elbow. Hermione gave him a minuscule nod, smiled at Em as she caught her mother's eye and returned to her dinner.
After a half hour marked by laughter, the clank of plates and silverware and Neville turning into a giant yellow chicken courtesy of something the twins had slipped in his food, Dumbledore rose back to his feet and motioned for silence once again. "Normally," he said, "in years past I would be informing you that the Forbidden Forest was off limits to those who valued their lives, it still is if case you were wondering," he added wryly, "and that Magic is not allowed to be performed in the halls. However, this year I will add something, something not of security or of rules, but of courage and honor and thanks. I thank you, each and every one of you students who are here tonight, for having the courage to defy the evil forces that hold the lands to the south, and for having the honor to stand for what is right. Thank you." The audience was quiet as Dumbledore rose from his chair and saluted the students with a raised goblet.
********************Hogwarts, DADA #1****************************
September 20, 2019
4:30 pm
"Alright, that's it...class dismissed." Ronald Weasley shouted out to the class of assembled Hogwarts students. Unlike the years before, the classes were small; this class of what would have normally been considered first years was actually one of his largest. Technically, all of the students currently enrolled were first years as this was the first time in seven years that Hogwarts held students, but to facilitate the varying power and experience levels of the students they had been separated by age. However, with the exception of some of the older students who had fought with the resistance, and the children of the Marauders, the majority of them were pretty well untrained.
Those young ones however, were actually better trained, in combat at least, than their parents had been at their ages. His own daughter, and Harry and Hermione's twins, along with Elliot and Lupin's kids were actually probably almost as good as he or Harry, but probably not Hermione, had been by the end of their third year, technically, though none had their raw power. They all could use light combat spells such as stunners, and basic shielding charms, even if they had yet to reach their adult powers. Ron watched as the strawberry blond head of his daughter nodded at something that Abigail muttered under her breath. The young metamorph had her hair long and black today, with long crimson streaks running down it to match the trim of her uniform. He watched as Em stopped and said something to her brother and turned back into the room. She walked back up to him, and ran her hand through her inky curls as she bit her lower lip, almost exactly as her mother had at her age, with the exception that her teeth were perfectly normal, Hermione had had no qualms about fixing them with magic.
She looked around the room, and watched as a pair of students wearing the colors of Ravenclaw house left quickly, the last of the students remaining except herself. Emilia bit her lower lip slightly took a breath before walking over to Ron's desk at the front and stopping, her eyes downcast at the various papers littering the top. After a moment, in which Ron watched her surreptitiously with a small, hidden smirk, she looked up at him, "Uncle Ron, can I ask you something?" She glanced around; "in private?"
Ron nodded and waved towards the Professor's office, she followed him up the curving stairs and stopped in front of the desk. Ron crossed to the desk chair and sat. Somehow he wasn't surprised as Emilia turned and with a couple of flicks of a wand and a muttered "Colloportus, Silencio" The door locked and sealed itself, and a brief, white flash lit the walls.
"Yes, Emilia?" Ron inquired calmly. He leaned back in Harry's chair. His two best friends had left the day after the school year had started, on a quest to find the key to taking Malfoy's allies away, to cleave the X'Sheen from his service. He was just keeping the seat warm, until Dumbledore let all the Marauders loose instead of just their leaders.
She looked nervous, her eyes refusing to meet his, but in the end she was the daughter of the two stubbornest graduates of Hogwarts ever, not to mention the hat had placed her in Gryffindor without even a quibble. "Uncle Ron...can I ask you about mum and dad?" He nodded, a slightly puzzled expression on his face. She looked at him, "I know what you said about mum and dad, and we saw them...practicing. But it's just that...well I saw them practicing, and right after they got done, well they scared me." She took a breath as he looked on, with a thoughtful glint in his eye. "No, not really, I mean it sorta felt like I should be scared, if I wasn't their daughter. But I wasn't. I felt safe." She got up and looked out the window. She looked down over the grounds, staring out at the trees near the crumpled ruins of Hagrid's old hut. "It was like I was down in the center of the forest, in the middle of the night, but I had the two deadliest predators in the whole forest on either side of me. Do you understand, Uncle Ron? I mean I don't know what to think...Horry thinks so too, I can tell, but he won't say anything."
"That's because he's his dad's son in many ways, possibly too many." Ron replied. He looked pensive, as he worked to frame his answer. Finally he sighed and looked at her. "Em, listen. I'm going to give you a bit of history, some of it I'm sure your parents have already told you, but there probably is a bit that they haven't. Some because they, still after everything, still think of themselves as that little, worthless, Muggle-raised boy who survived at the expense of his parents' lives, and a know-it-all, bossy, ugly Mudblood." Emilia hissed at him, and despite the fact that Ron was an extremely powerful, combat-trained and tested wizard; her wand was instantly pointed at a spot between his eyes. Ron sat at his desk, unperturbed, his hands carefully displayed on the oak desktop before him. He smiled to himself as he felt a breeze start to pick up in the room and just as suddenly stop as she took a deep breath. He continued softly, "And some because they are two of the finest people I have ever met, and the best brother and sister I have," he grinned, "don't tell the rest of them that." Emilia sighed and lowered her wand, but did not apologize. Instead, she sat back and glared, her gimlet eye an exact copy of her mother's.
Ron flicked a wand, and a pair of butterbeers appeared, both wearing the label indicating that they were the non-alcoholic kind. He uncorked one and took a sip. Despite herself, Emilia picked up the other. "You have to understand, Emilia." Ron said softly. "Before I met either of your parents, they had already started their tempering...oh your mother wasn't nearly as bad off as Harry, but she learned to get teased everyday, because she was 'weird.'"
"Weird?" Emilia repeated, confused.
"Yeah, you never had to deal with it, I never did either really, when you have five older siblings, people outside of the family don't stand a chance...Even if events hadn't turned out as they did, you probably would have gone to a Wizarding primary school, maybe, but you would have known that you weren't odd, that there was a reason that the teacher's hair might spontaneously erupt in flames, or how you Apparated onto the roof to get away from your aunt's dog." She looked at him oddly; Ron nodded. "Yep, those are all things that your parents did that got them ostracized in Hermione's case, or just beaten outright in Harry's." Emilia put her hand to her mouth, as her Uncle, in just a few words, confirmed rumors she had heard growing up and had never dared to ask about.
"Em, listen, a lot of what I'm saying to you, I probably shouldn't, but they are off trying to save the world again." Ron added the last a touch bitterly, she looked at him oddly, "Yeah I should be with them...and I will be, I'm just here long enough to get you guys started. Dumbledore will be sharing the duties with a few of the other Hogwarts' alums." He shook his head as Emilia digested that bit, "Your parents have gone through hell in the time that they've known each other. They've lost family, friends and loved ones and then your dad put himself in Azkaban in trade for your lives. There are two times when animals are at their most dangerous, when they are wounded and when they are protecting their young, and they have been there in one form or another for the last seven or so years."
Ron smiled at some inner joke, "Even back when they were in school, long before they ever realized what they meant to each other, they were, quite frankly, dangerously defensive of each other, and they would do literally anything for each other. Your mum never, ever, lost total faith in your dad, even when he was a total arse. Not really. I mean even I did and more than once, to my everlasting shame." He looked down at the table for a moment, "never again," he muttered before looking up once more. "And for his part, Harry never had anything but the absolute confidence in her. They were and are the best team I've ever seen, and frankly, probably the scariest at the same time. I was and still am their best friend in the world, we were 'the golden trio of Hogwarts' and I have known them for the better part of twenty years and I still don't always understand them."
"I know all that, Uncle Ron," she objected quietly.
"Then you have to understand...from their point of view, they failed you."
"No, they didn't!" Emilia snapped, the familiar Potter and Granger fire lighting in her eyes. "Dad let his arse get dragged away for us and mum...I don't think she slept from the time they took dad until she and Grandpa Albus solved the potion." Blue fire flickered in her eyes as they bored into his, daring him to say she was wrong. Despite himself, Ron flinched from the eleven-year-old witch, as he was reminded, forcefully, just whom had carried her for nine months.
"No, they didn't, Em." Ron agreed conciliatorily, "nor do I or anyone else...except them think that they failed." He waved around the room and out towards the grounds. "It just that, they blame themselves for all of this. They think that it's their fault that you didn't ride the train in from King's Cross to start school, or that two thirds of the world is a wasteland. They blame themselves for letting Malfoy consolidate power, and dragging you into a war the generation before couldn't stop. That we couldn't stop. That deep inside we all saw coming. They blame themselves because they are the heroes of his story and anything less is beneath them. Do you understand?" She nodded softly, tears dotting her eyes. Ron held out his arms and she crossed behind the desk and collapsed into them, as the tears started to flow freely.
******************USS Tiamat, Indian Ocean************************
Fierce winds and twenty-foot waves rocked the flagship of the United States 13th fleet. The fleet, that until Lucius Malfoy had released the X'Sheen on the world and caused the destruction of the ancient wards separating the Muggle and Wizarding worlds in the old Ministry in London, had not existed. At least not that anyone knew. The massive ship was about twice the size of an American Nuclear carrier, but there was a quite pressing reason for its massive size. As another wave crashed against the hull, that reason roared. A large, gold dragon waiting on alert standby grumbled further as his rider and several well armored keepers got him to calm down.
Parked a little way away from him, several sleek, mottled gray teardrops sat, their outsides shimmering as their barely visible outlines blended with the gray sky and sea beyond. The American fighters, or P-99 Sea Mustangs as they were called officially, were vastly improved versions of the combat equipped broomcraft that Fred and George had developed years ago. They were the seagoing versions of the Spitfire's that the twins had demonstrated at Area 51 years ago. They were transonic if needed; their sleek armored fuselages were capable of turning many destructive spells and Muggle projectiles that could be shot at it. The aircraft or brooms, no one was quite sure how to classify them yet, were direct beneficiaries of Hermione's theories combing magic and technology and of the Weasley Twins' never ending inventiveness. And in fact, were produced by a joint venture between Weasley Enterprises and Lockheed.
Harry watched as Hermione was bent next to one of the fighters, listening intently as an American crewmember explained certain aspects of the craft. She nodded as the tech explained the propulsion system, she didn't have the heart to tell him that she literally wrote the book on the subject; and that her adoptive brothers had built the first prototype seven years ago. Harry turned away with a smile to person standing next to him. The bearded face of a man, who by all appearances had been born at sea with the ease he took the salt spray coming over the bow and the rain dripping down from the brim of his ball cap.
Alexander Nimitz wore the uniform of the American Navy, but until a few years ago, he had been thought dead, by his Muggle classmates at least. It had always been difficult for nations to consolidate their magical and mundane forces, and especially to train their magical ones to fight as cohesive militaries. With the exception of relatively small units like the Aurors and Harry's old Special Groups, most Wizards learned to work alone or at best with a partner, never to truly work as part of a unified command to actually defend a nation. The Americans had changed that paradigm, though in secret. And their solution was elegantly simple, if hard on families and friends. The Wizarding forces were trained alongside the regular ones, their personnel passed through the same academies and boot camps, and then after they had passed through, were quietly disappeared, through fake accidents, missing persons reports, and other deceptions. Of course that was all in the past now, now the blinders were off.
Barely half a kilometer off the port bow, an American Nuclear carrier sat, its aircraft still mostly mundane, but it and them had been shielded from the EM fields generated by active magics. It had been a nasty surprise for Malfoy's forces when the aircraft from the Pacific Fleet had bombed his forces from the air, destroying hundreds of Dark Ones and biding time for the second American evacuation from the Philippines in a century.
"Albus tells me that you two can take care of yourselves, but I wish you would let me send some of my Marines with you. Or I have a SEAL team," Nimitz said as he watched a larger, transport version of the Mustangs, one that could carry passengers being towed out onto the flight line, causing the alert dragon to growl once more. They would drop from it into the mountains of Nepal. Very ancient magic protected the region where they were going. While Harry and Hermione might be able to Apparate in, they would have to force the wards, which would prove exhausting and could prove deadly if someone was waiting for them.
"No Alex." Harry countered, shaking his head. "I wish we could, but you might need them."
"So might you, son," the old Admiral rejoined, he sighed and wiped the rain from his face. It didn't help. "Do you know where you are going?"
"To a degree," Harry responded. "We have clues from some of the histories of Merlin and Godric and Rowena where this site might be, but I admit they are rather vague." He shrugged. "The best I can ask is that your crew drops us off where we agreed and try for pickup a week later."
Nimitz nodded bitterly. "Very well, Harry. We will be there, and if you're not at the rendezvous, I am sending all my Marines after you, so you better be. They hate getting cold."
Harry clapped the old Admiral on the shoulder, noticing not for the first time, the resemblance to another old, gray haired, blue-eyed wizard, though without the long beard. "We will, if we can."
*************************Himalayas, Tibet*****************************
September 25, 2019
4:00 pm
"Harry, we need to find shelter for the night!" Hermione screamed over the howling winds and the freak blizzard that surrounded them in white. Two hours ago the storm had suddenly and without warning broke upon them. They were still about a day from the probable location of the temple they were looking for. Hermione shivered in the wind, her brown eyes the only spot of color Harry could see in her otherwise white parka and snowsuit.
"Yeah," Harry agreed shortly, as he took a Muggle compass from his pocket and glanced at it, the compass looking tiny in his huge gloves. He looked about the area, and after a second pointed towards a dark patch in the nearby rock wall. Grabbing her hand, they struggled together towards it. Finally after several minutes of straining against the storm, they fell into the dark patch, the wind instantly disappearing. Getting back to his feet, Harry reached down and pulled Hermione to her feet. With a smile Harry led her to the back wall of the cave and slid down it to the floor. Hermione dropped her pack nearby and slid to the ground next to him. After a minute of sitting she started shivering even more violently.
Teeth chattering, she drew her wand and pointed it towards the center of the cave. Just as she was about to whisper an incantation, Harry reached out and grabbed her wand. "Don't, Mione."
She glanced at him, and then with a sudden, sheepish look in her eyes, "Sorry ,Harry," she looked at the center of the room glumly, "but we might not have to worry about someone detecting the magic, if we freeze to death. I guess this means no Muggle fires either."
Harry looked at her mournfully, "Yeah, sorry, Hermione...didn't think of this problem on the way in." He glanced around the cave, looking for a solution to the problem. A sudden realization flicked across his eyes, and with a breath he SHIFTED. Hermione raised an eyebrow at the eight foot black furred, green eyed lion that suddenly shared the cave with her. Think of me as a giant furry blanket.
I already do, Hermione shot back as she reached out and ruffed Harry's mane. With a soft sigh, she curled into him; he was indeed much warmer in this form. With a soft, purring sound Harry got even closer. Crookshanks will be so jealous. He likes to curl up with me.
I can go back and get him...see if he's any warmer, Harry's jade eyes, the same in both his human and feline forms, glared half-heartedly at her. Hermione grinned as she stretched, kissed him on his nose and tucked herself back into his chest, his black fur soft against her cheek. Are you getting warmer? Harry inquired seriously.
I'll be fine, love. Will you be? As she asked, a large chunk of snow fell across the opening to the cave, dimming the light further. A tiny glow flicked across both of their eyes. While they might be wary of using active magic such as Pyrophorism or a warming charm, inner or passive magics such as the Animagus transformation and their automatic shifting of their sight into the low light arena were basically undetectable. A heavy paw fell across her stomach, its three-inch claws carefully sheathed. Most humans would be understandably freaked with a large lion covering them like a blanket, but Hermione thought it a normal bit of life. Her much smaller human hand, rubbed Harry's paw in the same way it would have had he been in his human form. She heard Harry's soft purr get louder. She giggled softly at a sudden thought. You know Muggles have laws against this?
A cat snort answered her. Proves Muggles are weird, the large lion philosophized, as he purred.
Watch it dear, I'm Muggle born...and if I remember right, you might as well have been, Hermione teased back, the two of them able to joke about subjects between each other that would have had them at the throats of any others that would have dared to disparage their parents, or each other.
Your point? Harry retorted softly. Hermione shrugged. There really was no point. She was talking to be talking. His paw moved slowly on her stomach as his eyes slipped closed. Let's get some sleep. She nodded and he felt it as she SHIFTED into her own lion form and curled up with him.
Next chapter a visit to some friends, and a visit with the kids.