The assassin watched as the bolt flew from his crossbow and struck the ancient man in the neck. The razor-sharp head of the shaft protruded from his beard. The killer lowered his black hood, leaving the white mask he had grown accustomed to wearing, as he watched his prey grasp the mortal wound in his throat, the snow white hair from his face turning to crimson. He teetered as he stood on the edge of the ledge outside the cave; the victim's companion watched in horror as he could not help. The tiny bird the dying man held wiggled free and flew off into the blue sky.
Albus Dumbledore fell from the ledge to his death on the sharp rocks below.
Remus Lupin stood on the ledge from where he could see the assassin; even with the white mask and even from the distance that separated them, his features looked familiar. The black flowing robes were tattered and worn and his long black hair framed the mask. He let the weapon fall to the ground. The dull clunk of the wood against the stone echoed across the chasm. The crossbow came to rest precariously perched on a dirt ledge over the river.
The assassin sneered from behind his mask, "And so it is as it was," he muttered, as he vanished from his vantage point, to reappear at the scene of gore. He callously stripped the bloody spectacles from the still warm body, dipped a finger in the fresh blood to write a single word on a sheet of parchment. The glasses were wrapped carefully in the message as he vanished from the scene of the crime.
Remus fell to his knees, helpless, as he watched the fine silken robes of the most famous wizard of the age turn red and the surrounding rock became painted in blood. There he remained, in shock.
A scream from the stone and iron bridge nearby drew his mind back to reality. Knowing the Muggle authorities would ask questions he couldn't answer, his course of action was clear: he returned to notify the wizarding world a great man was gone.
The weather in Wales was particularly stormy for that time of year; thunderous cracks in the sky sent shivers of lightening into the air. The downpours seemed to begin when the great wizard died. The rains not only washed away any potential clue to the murder and threatened to wash his body into the ravine and down the river, but made the recovery process impossible for Muggles and difficult for the wizards investigating the incident. Around the time Remus had sought help from the Ministry, Harry received the tawny owl with the message of death. Precious time lapsed in those hours, precious evidence was either lost or in danger of being lost.
A contingent of constables had been called by a passerby shortly after the incident and had begun to arrive on the scene. They remained safely at the edge of the Three Bridges and set up a command and control centre; the main activity consisted of them mapping out plans to recover the body in the ravine.
The Wizard Investigative Task force arrived on the scene soon after the Muggle authorities. The task force had been divided into two distinct groups, the Field Operatives, charged with the impossible task of gathering useful evidence from the scene, and the Research and Evaluations team that remained in the Auror's headquarters. Back at the Ministry, several team members of the R&E group had been hand selected by Ron Weasley and had been instructed to research any leads uncovered in the field.
Three junior Aurors, having recently completed training courses, were added to the teams by Ron, augmenting the staff of trusted Aurors. He had put Harry in charge of R&E, giving him the opportunity to stay with his new family while clues were uncovered. Ron and also taken this tact to further the illusion that Harry had fallen from favour and to give Hermione to chance to peer over his shoulder and assist when the time was right. Harry instructed his team members to contact him at the Hospital when evidence of substance arrived. Until then, he remained there with Hermione and Annie.
Despite the foul weather, Ron, Shacklebolt and the three junior Aurors spent several hours near the village of Pontarfynach . A fair number of parcels containing clues had been sent back to the Ministry, all trivial samples of the dirt and stone along the embankment, which still held the body of the deceased Minister for Magic. A large crack of lightening streaked through the sky.
The weather in Wales was to blame for the delays in recovering Albus Dumbledore's body, the rain also threatened the Mynach River to crest over its banks and wash the body into the river, down the deep, rocky chasm it had carved into the rock.
"He's too far to levitate, Ron," Kingsley commented looking into the gorge.
"We can't leave him there until the river washes him away," Ron replied. A large umbrella covered the pair as they tried to work out the best method to retrieve the Minister's body.
A bolt of lightning now drew a line from the heavens to the broken frame on the rocks below, the smouldering from his body bore evidence destiny wanted to remove all traces of his death.
"Sir, we could rappel down and use as series of ropes to pull him up, we could encase his body in a protective case to trap any residual evidence," a junior Auror suggested.
"That's the most ridiculous idea yet. Where could you have come up with such a plan, Wilson , is it?" Ron asked.
"My brother is on the search and recovery squad in our home village near Dover . That's part of his Muggle training."
"Right, you're Muggle born, aren't you?" Ron commented without wanting an answer.
"Yes, sir. My two older brothers are both in the public's service and were excited to learn there was a similar branch with us."
"Still, it's too risky to try, we have no experience in those methods," Ron replied.
"We could use a Portkey and bring the body back," Remus commented from the side.
"Sorry, Remus, your role here is only to show us the path to that cave and the house. Wait in the cave and we'll search it once this task is done," Ron replied, as he motioned to Shacklebolt to give it a try.
Within moments, the Auror had taken a discarded drinking cup and vanished to the point on the rocks. The rain beat down with a vengeance that seemed as if God were shedding tears at the loss of Albus Dumbledore. Solemnly, he levitated the corpse of the Minister into the relative shelter of the cave. The bolt remained in his neck, but the rain had cleansed all trace of blood from his robes.
"Use the shroud to cover him and bring him back to the Ministry; they will need to examine him," Ron said. His command hid the hints of sorrow he felt, as he tried to prevent his voice from cracking at the sight of the broken body.
Shacklebolt and one of the junior field agents left with the body, leaving Ron with two lesser experienced men and Remus. "Now, Remus, let's examine this cave of yours."
"It's here; there's a hidden door, to a tunnel, on the wall in the back of the cave. That's where we found his secret lair." Remus pushed on into the black of the cave. Several wands had been pulled out and illuminated the chamber. It was a dreary looking cave; nothing seemed out of place, except for trails of footprints in the soil, leading into and out of a solid wall of stone.
He walked directly to a single rock in the wall that seemed to stick out slightly, pressed the tip of his wand to the spot and turned his wand as if it were a key. The solid rock wall swung open effortlessly giving the four wizards ample room to pass through.
"These walls seem crudely cut. Look there, sir," Williams said as he pointed to the wall, "tool marks indicates this was Muggle made."
Ron nodded at the junior Auror's observation and smiled at his choice of team members. "Right you are, Williams, a wizard-dug tunnel might have residual magical traces that would have been detected. These are fairly old, several hundred years, I might think."
They followed Remus through the narrow path for what seemed nearly an hour. The trail had a steady elevation to it; the ground seemed dry as desert sand.
"Here, round the next bend, I think, we'll find that room with the trinkets and furnishings."
His wolf-like senses proved true to the task, in less than a minute, they stood in a large cavern, a natural room in the geology of the mountain. The tunnel they had travelled was obviously cut to this very room at some point in time or at very least, dug from this chamber.
"Williams, look through the bed and wardrobe for any indication who had been living here. Be mindful of booby traps. Simmons, detail the other areas that may show signs of inhabitation, I want a look at that pile of jewellery."
"And what should I do, Auror Weasley?" the werewolf said with near contempt.
"Senior Auror, Mister Lupin," Ron replied back, "I want you with me."
The three Aurors and one wizard set off to their assigned tasks of investigation. Once out of ear shot of his two subordinates, he leaned close to the elder wizard, "Professor, you do know I have to treat you that way in front of them," he said apologetically.
The werewolf nodded, "I know you don't have a drop of real disrespect in you. I know an act when I see it."
They stopped at a pile of discarded gems and trinkets, some hopelessly crushed and others ignored. Ron picked up a few to sample and placed them in a glass vial. The amount of raw gold in that pile was more than the Weasley vault had ever seen when Arthur and Molly were alive.
"Nice pile of gold, must have taken years to acquire this much."
"There's more stored in crates in the far tunnel that leads to the house. And there's a list of most unusual items in the house as well."
"None of these seem terribly important, little of it seems of much value," Ron commented.
"Sir," Simmons called from the makeshift kitchen. "There's been a recent fire in this stove, within the past day I would say."
"Yes, Albus and I noticed that too, he thought the occupants had fled rapidly and might return for their piles of gold."
"Anything of interest, Williams?" he called out.
"No sir, just this bloke was a bit of a slob. He must have left in a hurry; there are some bits of parchment here. It looks like he tried to burn them."
"There's bits of parchment here in the stove too, a right large pile," Simmons commented back. And there's a cauldron brewing on the fire."
Simmons leaned into the cauldron to see what was inside; green whiffs of smoke still drifted from the simmering substance a nose full of the smoke struck him, paralyzing him to the spot.
"Leave the cauldron, there may be some harmful potion in it," Ron called out.
"S-Sir," Simmons squeaked out, drops of his blood fell into the cauldron before falling over, stone dead.
"Sir," Williams barked out, "Simmons is down. He's hurt." The junior Auror rushed to his mate's side.
"Leave him, there's a dark presence here," Ron yelled to his remaining man. Both Ron and Lupin left the gold to converge in the makeshift kitchen. The body of the young Auror lay on the ground, his blood still seeping from his nose and mouth.
Ron carefully looked at the cauldron, to see the thick mixture now bubbling and thickening where the red drops of blood fell.
"Bloody hell, it's a jinxed potion. We need to send a sample back; maybe they can identify the source."
"But it killed Simmons!" Williams muttered, "We shouldn't touch it."
"I'm aware of that, I never meant for you to get the sample." He pointed his wand at the simmering substance and a small amount pulled itself from the cauldron to a waiting vial levitated over the bubbling pot. The sample slipped into the glass container without touching the sides.
"There, that should be enough," he said, as he etched a warning of death into the glass. He placed the sample into a metal box that contained other evidence they discovered.
"Sorry Simmons, we'll gather you along on the way back. Let's push on to the house and that potions lab you told us about," Ron commanded. The dwindling group pushed on to the tunnel and a deeper mystery.
The tunnel ended with a solid stone wall. Then dirt up to the wall was undisturbed, unlike the wall that hid the tunnel in the cave entrance.
"I don't remember hitting this wall," Remus remarked. "Dumbledore led us up a set of steps. We may have passed them."
"It's easy to see that you missed that, the tunnel walls are indistinguishable," Ron remarked. "Turn about and find the spot, be careful to follow your footsteps."
"Aye-aye cap'n," Remus teased, with a mock salute.
"Just mind your tracks and cut the sarcasm," Ron ordered.
The group carefully retraced their steps to find the spot where many other tracks merged. The additional tracks seemed to simply stop.
"This is the spot; I think Dumbledore detected an invisible stairway, or some hidden latch."
Ron waved his wand, emitting a light blue glow in the tunnel. Nothing was visible, but after several minutes, a shadow appeared on a wall.
"There, it's a chain," Ron exclaimed, as he carefully felt the area for a thin chain hanging from the ceiling. He glanced to the floor to see several old tracks in the dirt. A quick tug on the chain revealed a door and stair way grow from the stone.
"This way; Williams, leave a marker for this spot."
The junior member of the team nodded and pointed his wand to the wall, etching an arrow to the hidden chain.
The team climbed the stone steps; as the last man passed into the gap in the ceiling, the stones followed them to fill the entrance. The stairs seemed endless.
"Nine hundred ninety eight, nine hundred ninety nine, one thousand, one thousand and one, one thousand and two…"
"Stuff it, Williams," Remus called back, "we know it's a bloody long climb."
"We'll need to know how far, for the reports, Remus. Keep counting Williams," Ron instructed, as they continued.
They eventually reached the top, after Williams announced the one thousandth eight hundred and thirty fourth step. The end of the stairs led them to a nondescript door that was left unsecured.
"Careful, we have no idea who may be waiting," Ron cautioned.
The door opened to the potions laboratory Remus had mentioned. The small chamber seemed smaller with the Stacks of ancient books that lined the walls and the tables that held various cauldrons; vials stood away from the books, leaving just enough room to walk around.
Williams cautiously picked up a familiar volume and flipped it open to the cover page. "Advanced Potions For Second Level NEWTS, I had this in my seventh year, but this one was published in 1892."
Ron picked up another from the other wall and noticed it too was a potions text, also well over a hundred years old. "Is there a name in that book?" Ron asked Williams.
"This one's got the initials HS and 1919, but no name," Williams replied.
"E Prince 1949, here. And this is listed as Property of the Knights of Walpurgis," Remus said, opening another.
"Here's another, The Autobiography of Hesper Starkey. Isn't that the witch who studied the use of phases of the moon in potion making?"
"Yes, I think it was," Ron replied to Williams.
"Hmmm, LM to my son for his outstanding achievements," Williams read aloud.
"Leave them as you found them, I'll have a team return and examine them all. The door out is just over here," Ron said, walking to a simple door. He turned the knob and pushed, the wall itself moved. The simple door was the entrance into the house. That wall opened into a cupboard under the staircase in the basement. After quickly scanning the boxes stacked high in the cellar, the team moved forwards.
"Everyone, remain as quiet as possible," Ron whispered hoarsely, "We have no idea who's about."
They crept into the cellar and waited for a moment. The room was silent and empty; not a sound was heard until a creak of the floor boards just over their heads alerted them the building was indeed occupied.
Ron pointed for the others to remain and after using a Silencing Charm on the stairs, slowly climbed fourteen more steps. The door leaving the cellar was locked, but a simple charm silently opened the door.
He entered the main floor, wand held out as he quietly walked through the hall. The lounge to his right was empty, but as he neared the area he mapped off as directly over head when they heard the floor creak. Before he came to that last corner, a large dog walked to him. Its head was bowed low as if he were not well. Ron stepped into the room, the kitchen of this house and the sight before him hit him hard. Sitting at the table, with a still warm meal on the table, sat three bodies. They had been dead only a short while. The roast on the table told Ron him this was quite recent.
"It's clear," he called to the others and proceeded to inspect the grisly scene. A man and woman of middle age sat at either end. A boy, possibly ten years old sat on the side between the two adults. As Ron approached the table, the dog followed.
"The place looks as if they were surprised in the middle of dinner, Remus, you said the house was empty when you searched it?"
"Yes, that was yesterday morning, before Albus was murdered."
"How thoroughly did he search the house? And do you have any idea what he was looking for?"
"He was looking for any clues to the occupants of the chamber in the tunnel; he believed they were linked to this house."
"And you found nothing?"
"I searched the upstairs; I noticed quite old traces of magic and a few bits of parchment in a cupboard upstairs. We both believed that a magical family once owned this house."
"That much is obvious, that hidden door in the cellar was charmed on the cellar side. Where did Albus search?"
"The lounge and study, he said there was a hidden door in the study but we didn't have time to search there, these Muggles were returning home, so we left the way we came. We stayed in the upper part of the tunnel, in the stair well for the night to wait for who ever has been staying in that cavern."
"But he never showed and you left, correct?"
"Yes, that's when we left the cave and he was murdered. I left for the Ministry to bring help and here we are," Remus said, concluding his part of this investigation.
Ron waved the team into the study and they began to search the walls. Rows of books lined the walls, all typical books one would expect a Muggle family to own. Only one book stood out, an old leather bound tome with the words 'Chinese Alchemy' embossed on the spine.
Ron pulled the book from the shelf and touched the spot it covered with his wand. The bookcase pushed away from the wall and out, exposing a hidden chamber.
"Here, I found it," he called out.
"Lumos," Remus called, holding his wand up and fully illuminating the room.
The room held an old cot, a table and two broken chairs. On further examination, several broken bottles that obviously held a Muggle beverage lay shattered on the floor.
"Sir, are those potions? I don't recognize them," Williams asked, holding a small vial with a silvery liquid.
"I don't know, collect them and we'll have an expert examine them. It happens my brother-in-law has been the Potions Master at Hogwarts and he'll be discreet enough," Ron said, as he examined the vial.
"Professor Malfoy is your brother-in-law?" Williams replied with surprise.
"Yes, he did marry my baby sister, not that it's any of your concern."
Remus looked at his pocket watch, before interrupting, "It's getting late, the others should have the Minister's body back and should be waiting."
"Right, bundle what you can. I'll have a team out here before the locals arrive. Back out through the cave."
"Sir." Williams picked up a torn sheet of parchment from the floor, "Here's something of interest. It appears to be a list of some form. A number of the items seem to have been scratched off."
"Strange, several are listed as confirmed and struck out, as if he's on a hunt."
"'Bugger off,' she said, 'go home and get some rest,' she said, 'You've been a pest,' she said," Harry muttered as he rummaged in his kitchen for his dinner. This was the one night of the month she forced Dobby to take off. This was one of the few times he was grateful he had been forced to learn how to cook at a young age.
However, Dobby had left a plate of sausages in the icebox; he only needed to heat them lightly. He mulled over the events of the past thirty-six hours, he and Ron briefed Hermione on the details of their expeditions. She too was unable to determine the connections between Dumbledore's murder, the nurse's murder, and the attack on Firenze . He quickly consumed his dinner before deciding to go visit a small corner of his property to reflect on the facts.
The walk through the canopy of woods was filled with the song of birds celebrating the coming of spring. His journey ended at the small bench he placed in this garden of reflection. He personally tended this small patch on Earth, weeding the grounds around the monuments by hand. It was an act of love, the love of a son for his parents.
"Hello mum and dad, I've been at the hospital. Hermione's doing brilliantly, even though things were dicey for a while. You have a granddaughter, she's absolutely perfect."
He folded his arms and stared at the row of stones. The larger ones hadn't been as painful as the small one he placed in this family garden nearly six years earlier. "Janet, Jason, you have a sister, Annie. She's strong and healthy. She had a difficult time coming into this world, and I swear to you all she will be happy."
He turned to another stone set off from the others and continued, "Hermione wanted you to know she wished you all could have been there too, I know she misses you both. She wanted our child to come into the world where you have brought her in."
He pulled a small leather pouch from his pocket, but it remained sealed. The contents inside was the most precious soil he owned.
"You were the least fortunate, we never knew you. But you are part of this family, as much a part as Annie, Jason, or Janet." The single drop that fell on the pouch was quickly joined with another. He felt tightness in his chest and a lump build in his throat.
Several more drops rolled from his cheek to his shirt. His precious pouch was carefully tucked back in his pocket, and he cradled his face in his hands. His chest hitching sharply as he continued to allow the end of his grief flow into the beginning of his joy with his family.
A wind gently blew across the small family garden; fingers in the breeze caressed his hair as he felt a presence with him. The wind slowed and stopped, but he still felt the gentle caress of a loving mother's touch.
"Harry, we are proud of you. Your father and I have always been with you."
His hands fell from his face and his body fell limp in the bench. His eyes closed as a smile grew on his face.
"M-Mum?" he stammered as he felt sleep embrace him.
"Yes darling. We're here." Two figures drifted from the mist of his mind into his thoughts, into his dreams.
"Why haven't you come before?" he asked.
"Our ability to return here was weakened to protect you when Voldemort took us from you. Now that you and Hermione have brought Annie into this world, we can return to you briefly, but only here in our family grave."
"Yes, but for now only when your thoughts have weakened in sleep can we visit."
"Mum, I wish you could see her. She is beautiful," Harry said in his dreams.
"I can, when you see her in you mind, we can see her too, and yes she is beautiful, just like her mother," Lily said to Harry.
"We're both very proud of you, son," James said after Lily finished.
"But there is something you must be wary of; with Dumbledore's death, there's a dark force at work that is concealed even to the spirit world. We know he was murdered, but he has not passed into this realm," Lily added.
"Then is there a possibility he's alive?" Harry asked enthusiastically.
"Sadly, no. He is dead. All we can assume is he has chosen to remain as a spirit on Earth," James said to his son.
"Yes, but he has remained hidden, so it is possible he has planned this," Lily added.
"Do you have any thoughts where or how I can reach him," Harry asked.
"Darling Harry," Lily said with a sweet loving voice of a mother. "Let him go. You have given so much of yourself; you and Hermione should take this time to enjoy the child you bore into the world. Love them both as we love you."
"Good bye, son. We won't be able to see you again, not for a long time. Live and love to your fullest."
"Mum, Dad, you can't leave. Please stay. I have missed you both."
"You have your family, it is time for you to let go. We love you, Harry."
His dream faded as did the images of James and Lily Potter. He slumped over on the bench that overlooked the graves and slept soundly.