A/N: Back to the usual mystery and intrigue that permeates my work. If Voldemort had been quiet before, that ends with this chapter.
A few things to set out from the get go…minor issues like some of the older character's ages and the so-called defense professor's curse are going to be ignored for this story. None of this bears too much weight on THIS story or its sequel, but will be a major part of a planned spin-off in this same universe. More on that later.
Chapter 4: A Reminder of Reality
To say that Harry Potter had never been happier in his life would be a gross understatement.
He felt as if he could walk on air at that very moment, the moment that Hermione kissed him and sealed their marriage vows for now and eternity. If a hundred dementors were to suddenly swoop down out of the sky, he was certain that he could fight them off with his patronus. Hell screw a hundred dementors, he felt as if he could fight off a hundred thousand.
Now as he sat at the small reception that had been gathered together (and once again internally thanked Dobby and Winky for the wonderful food), he couldn't keep his eyes off of his bride. All the cares and worries of his life were but a distant memory. Dumbledore, Voldemort, the Prophecy…everything was nothing more than an afterthought everytime he stared at Hermione. When she stared back, he couldn't help but blush a bit.
"What are you thinking," she whispered to him.
"Just how lucky I am," Harry replied honestly, grasping her hand in his. "I still don't know what I did to deserve you in my life, but I'm grateful for whatever it was."
Hermione smiled at him, kissing him on the lips. "You were just being you," she whispered back, "That's enough for me." Harry smiled earnestly, and the two of them returned to the wedding feast.
There was a silent ringing of a fork next to a glass, and everyone turned to look at Ron as he stood up and got everyone's attention. "Since I am the best man," he said as soon as everyone was looking at him, some of them with strange looks on their face at the rather modern and more muggle custom, "I've been told that it's my duty to toast the newlyweds." Ron smiled and turned towards Harry and Hermione. "I've known these two since day one, and even then I guess I knew they were meant for each other. Oh sure, they both might be mental at times, but when push comes to shove they are the two best friends a bloke could ever have. If anyone deserves to be happy and have the kind of love that you share, then it is you two." Harry and Hermione both smiled back at Ron, each one laughing slightly at his pronouncements. "Now, before the rest of this food gets cold," he added to a chorus of laughter, "let's hear it for the newlyweds." Everyone clapped and held their glasses up in toast.
The rest of the reception went off without a hitch, including Luna catching the bouquet (something that Ron didn't really get, nor did he understand the smile that came to Hermione's face or Harry's wagging eyebrows when she caught it). In time many of the few invited guests made their way from the mansion green and back to their homes. When the last of the guests had departed, Harry and Hermione were left with Remus & Tonks, the last ones to depart.
"Thank you again for your help Remus," Hermione said for the thirteenth time that day, hugging him fiercely.
"And thank you for coming Tonks," Harry then said, hugging her in a similar fashion. Remus & Tonks withdrew from the hugs and each held their hands together. "So when are you two going to tie the knot?" Harry asked.
"Difficult to say," Remus replied somewhat sheepishly, his face suddenly becoming slightly pale. Tonks just laughed at him.
"Remus hasn't asked yet," she playfully said, punching him in the shoulder and causing him to feign injury. Tonks' face then fell slightly, "But the ministry doesn't allow werewolves to marry anyway."
"We'll see about that," Harry replied forcefully, "Some of that old toad woman's "reforms" are going to be done away with if I have anything to say about it." Absentmindedly he rubbed his knuckles where he once had a scar ingrained.
"Harry," Remus replied, changing the subject. "I hate to bring up the war at a time like this, but I think I've found a person who might be able to shed some light on whatever it is Dumbledore is planning."
"That's great Mooney," Harry said cheerfully. "We still are in the dark about a lot of things he's done: Why he sent me to the Dursleys, why he charmed you to forget where I was, things like that."
"Yes I know," Remus replied, clinching his fist in anger. "But hopefully this man will allow us to get to the bottom of this. His name is Demetrius Longshanks."
"Why does that name sound familiar," Tonks asked, finding this information out for the first time herself.
"He was an auror wasn't he? I thought I read something about him in a book once." Hermione replied, scratching her chin in thought.
"Yes he was," Remus answered, "He was also the last person at Hogwarts to hold the defense position for more than a single year. He was the defense teacher during the time your parents and I were at Hogwarts, Harry. He was also a member of the Order during the first war and one of the closest friends Dumbledore ever had."
"So why would he help us?" Harry asked, skeptical with this last bit of information.
"He and Dumbledore had a falling out towards the end of the war. I was never sure what caused it, but it had something to do with what Demetrius found out about Dumbledore's past, or at least that was the rumor. If I can find him, I hope he'll help me. If not, I might be able to convince Minerva to speak with him."
"What would Professor McGonagall have anything to do with him?" Hermione asked, puzzled at this.
"Professor McGonagall and Professor Longshanks were…an item, for much of their time at Hogwarts." There was a frantic popping sound, interrupting Remus before he could explain further. Harry and company turned to see Fred Weasley breathing heavily, as he ran towards them.
"Death Eaters…" he managed to say quickly… "Death Eaters are attacking Diagon Alley!"
/ - / - / - /
Lazarus kept a close watch on the events happening before him, and smiled when he saw the manifesto change to add Hermione's name right next to Harry's.
"United they shall stand…" he muttered to himself, before waving his hand over a crystal ball that lay on his desk and going back to his budget requests. Money had been so hard to come by these days, especially since he had to close off one of his largest financial boondoggles in order to move his plans along. The setbacks to fulfilling a prophecy, he mused to himself.
He heard a door open in front of him, and he glanced upwards, frowning internally when he saw Percy Weasley walk into his office. "Mr. Weasley," Lazarus said quietly, "Is it time for your report already?" he rhetorically asked, making a show to look up at his clock like any doddering old man would do.
"Yes," Percy said flatly, "And I'm happy to report that my father will stand for election for Minister…should a vote of no-confidence against Minister Fudge be called."
"Of that I have no doubt," Lazarus replied smiling, "Especially since we allowed this to happen." Percy raised an eyebrow, and Lazarus mentally chided himself again. A simple wave of his hand, and Percy had a confused look on his face. "So I suppose you'll want what I promised you?" Lazarus asked, leaning forward on his staff as he stood up. Percy simply nodded, and Lazarus hobbled forward and held out his hand, a four colored ring suddenly appearing on his finger. "Percival Weasley, do you swear fealty within reason to my house, and to the Department of Mysteries, so help you Merlin."
Percy kneeled as Lazarus gave the simplistic oath, and then confidently stared into the older man's eyes. "I do," he replied, before kissing the ring in a traditional fashion.
"Fealty with Honor…Bravery with Knowledge…Compassion with Reason…these are the things we strive for," Lazarus said, moving back towards his desk. "Now, tell me," Lazarus said, the screams of some of his servants echoing in the back of his mind as Diagon Alley burned., "What do you know about Minister Fudge's personal life?"
/ - / - / - /
It did not take long for Harry, Hermione, Tonks & Remus to change clothes (Harry thanked Merlin for advanced transfiguration) and apparate straight into Diagon Alley. Unfortunately, the Death Eaters had been quick and precise with their attacks.
The store that was quickly becoming Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes was unharmed, miraculously, as was much of the rest of the Alley, despite largely superficial damage at several of the stores. The one store that had been devastated was Ollivander's. More like ransacked, was the best word to describe it. Harry and his friends rushed over towards the mayhem, surprised to be joined by Ron, Luna, Neville & Ginny as soon as they arrived.
"What happened here," Neville asked aloud, causing Harry to simply shake his head in response. The windows had been shattered, and many of the boxes that lined Ollivander's back storeroom had been scattered all across the floor, wands discarded every which way. Large blast marks on the walls were impossible to decipher. They could have come from Death Eaters, or Mr. Ollivander, or from the discarded wands. They were simply too random and too numerous to discern their origins. Harry also noticed out of the corner of his eye that the wand that stood in Ollivander's shop window was conspicuous by its absence.
"It would appear Mr. Ollivander has disappeared," came a not so saintly old voice from behind Harry's shoulder. He grimaced and turned to see Dumbledore approaching, flanked by two or three Order members.
"What happened," Harry coldly asked, not letting his lingering anger and distrust get the better of him and break his façade. Dumbledore merely stared at him, twinkle absent from his eye, and gave a measured response.
"The Death Eaters attacked swiftly," he said softly, "I would guess this was merely a way of reminding the Wizarding World that they are still very much a threat. We are fortunate however that, aside from Mr. Ollivander's unknown whereabouts, there was minimal damage. Still, there were…casualties. Fifteen witches and wizards were killed, without any apparent attention having been paid to their blood status. Seven of them were purebloods, three were muggleborn, and the other five were half bloods…including Miss Chang." Harry winced at this. Though he bore no real feelings for Cho any longer, it was still painful to see a person he considered a friend to die. Hermione gripped his hand tightly.
"Any idea why they sacked this place," Ron asked, surveying the damage of the store. Luna looked it over as well, her eyes growing wide when she saw what was missing.
"The wand in the window," she pointed out, "It's gone!"
"Yes I'm afraid that may have been what they were after Miss Lovegood," Dumbledore replied sadly. "That was the Elder Wand, a wand which grants the bearer special protections in duels. There is a fascinating story behind that."
"Which we don't have time to here…" Harry interrupted, not wanting the old man to distract them with fanciful tales, "Were any Death Eaters captured?"
"No," Dumbledore answered, adjusting his glasses, "I'm afraid not."
/ - / - / - /
Draco slowly walked into the Vanguard Inn just outside of Manchester. He had followed a trail of acquaintances and relatives to this point, searching for the elusive Charles van Houtan. He still didn't have a good picture of the man in his mind, but he still pursued onward, truthfully telling himself that he had nothing else to go back to, and nothing else to live for at the present time.
He told himself this quite regularly, as a matter of fact, almost as if he were trying to convince himself.
He strolled up to the bar; ignoring the glances he got from a few of the patrons who were either plastered off their arse or halfway to that point. He ordered a pint of something called Guinness from the barkeep and glanced around the room. He could still feel the flickers of magic coming off of one or two of the people in the room, one trail incredibly faintly. Muttering to himself, he raised the collar on his jacket a little higher and hoped not to be recognized.
He had managed to get a copy of the Daily Prophet the day before and found, not to his surprise, that the Ministry was still after him as if he were the Dark Lord himself. News of his murder of Caliban apparently either hadn't gotten out or was being kept under wraps. Draco didn't know if Potter and Granger had told anyone of his deeds, but was certain that at least their closest friends knew. His experience with Crabbe and Goyle told him that Death Eaters were likely hot on his trail. It was definitely best to keep a low profile.
Sensing these magical resonance trails was something more of a concern for Draco, moreso than knowing that he was in the same room with at least one wizard. Caliban had certainly implied, before he died, that Draco might in fact be Caliban's son rather than that of Lucius Malfoy. Draco personally doubted it, but the feeling still caused chills to run down his spine.
"Excuse me," Draco called out, drawing the barkeep's attention. "I'm looking for someone." The barkeep waddled over towards Draco, running his left hand through his balding hair and scratching his bulbous nose with his right. "His name is Charlie van Houtan."
"Charlie?" the barkeep replied quickly. He jerked his thumb over towards the left. "'E's over there in the corner, probably mutterin to 'imself again." Draco tried to keep his joy in check, and simply nodded his head and moved towards the pointed direction. Much to Draco's surprise, he felt one of the resonance trails, the particularly weak one, leading towards the figure in the corner.
From what Draco could gather, Charlie van Houtan was a real louse of a man. He was clad in denim trousers that obviously had not been washed in quite some time as well as a large black sweater that was five sizes too big for the small, meek looking man. He only had three or four tufts of hair sticking out of the sides of his head, and he looked to be near ancient if the wrinkles on his face meant anything. He was nursing what appeared to be his third or fourth pint, talking to himself about something or other. Draco took a deep breath and walked towards him. He stopped dead in front of him, palmed his wand just in case, and hovered over him before he announced his presence.
"Charlie van Houtan?" Draco asked. The man looked up and regarded Draco for a moment, bright gray eyes staring straight at bloodshot hazel ones. The man seemed to recognize Draco, as his eyes quickly gained some degree of coherence to them and the man quickly tried to dart out of harm's way. Draco flicked his wand and caused an unseen force to pin Charlie to the wall. He struggled to get free.
"What do you want you murderer!" the man said in as hushed a tone as he could, obviously trying not to break the Statute of Secrecy for some reason, Draco guessed. Nevertheless, Draco flicked his wand again, muffling the sound around them and keeping the rest of the patrons from not noticing them at the moment. Draco released the man, but kept him firmly planted in his chair.
"I'm looking for my mother," Draco plainly said, "Miranda Breyerson." Charlie darted his eyes downwards but quickly tried to reassert himself.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he said as confidently as he could. Draco pointed his wand straight at Charlie, the red tint of a cruciatus shining on the end of it.
"Wrong answer," Draco replied coldly, "Now where is she!"
"She's uh…." Charlie started sweating bullets. Caliban had instructed him not to tell anyone about her whereabouts, but given that Caliban was no longer amongst the living, Charlie's options seemed quite limited at the moment. "She's in Stratford!" he said quickly, causing Draco to withdraw his wand.
"I have a few questions for you. First and foremost, why did you give her to Caliban in the first place? I know you're a squib as well," Draco guessed this last part, "So you might as well come clean. I know you can't do anything if I don't like what I hear." He added force to the last part, causing Charlie to gulp deeply.
"She was chosen by Caliban himself," Charlie admitted, "He needed a girl for some task, and I gave one to him. I pimped girls back in those days, young dames who needed a quick buck to support whatever drug habits they were getting into." Draco grimaced at the thought, but allowed Charlie to continue.
"I thought he was just going to use her once and that was it, but she got pregnant afterwards. She left me after that. I never saw her till years later when I tried to atone for my past sins. I found out she got married, had a couple more kids, but she wanted nothing to do with me. Not that I blame her…I guess you must be that kid she was pregnant with."
Draco remained quiet, and simply stood up. "Thank you for your help," Draco replied. Quickly making sure that no one was watching, he performed a quick memory charm on the squib and left the pub quickly.
As soon as he was gone, Charlie van Houtan smiled. The brooch on his shirt glowed with power at blocking the memory charm. The Dark Lord would want to hear of this bit of information. Fenrir would want to hear this bit of information.
A/N: Voldemort's use for Ollivander will be explained in the next chapter, as well as a closer examination of the inner politics behind the Death Eaters. Also, plans are made for Fudge's sacking, though he might have something yet to say about that.
I mentioned a spin-off to this story, and it will be my planned Marauders era fic. It takes place in the Heirs universe and chronicles the events of James Potter, Lily Evans, Sirius Black and others during their times at Hogwarts. I don't anticipate starting it anytime soon, but just so you know that it's out there.
FF.net readers will notice that Demetrius Longshanks is a recycled character from an abandoned fic of mine.
Please bear with me as I try to fight my way out of another bout of writer's block.