Chapter 10
"Holy fonging fong."
Hermione rolled her eyes and almost told Harry to go ahead and curse normally. Almost.
They had been roaming over the grounds of Rowan Hill while in their animagus forms. It was freeing for the couple to run, leap and sprint through the woods as Longtooth and Midnight. The hardwood forest that ringed Snowden provided ample scenes of beauty for them to marvel. They'd just stumbled upon one.
It was a dell that opened to the west and the sea. At the base, there was a small spring, which fed a clear pool, which in turn bubbled over into a brook of the cleanest water. The small snow white flowers that ringed the area scented the air with an aroma that for a moment, made the time travelling teens think it was springtime and not the end of January. The hot spring kept the entire dell warm, creating an artificial springtime. The thick spongy moss was a carpet of green upon which Harry had just settled.
Hermione shifted form before she curled up behind Harry, pulling him into her embrace. Despite the hot spring, the air had a bit of bite in it. Harry leaned back into her embrace and sighed. It had been a hard few weeks since they'd decided to 'forgo full time education' as Fred and George had once said.
The interview with the Child Protective Services agent had been uncomfortable. Abiding his self-imposed rule that only family was allowed inside the wards of Rowan Hill, Harry and Sirius had used the Floo to travel to the Ministry offices.
Despite being magical, the Ministry was a bureaucracy which meant that there were endless offices and a labyrinthine passageway system that made Gringotts seem like an open field. Becoming frustrated, Sirius wrote a quick note to Eric McDonnell, the agent assigned to their case, before casting the Find Me charm on the note. Watching the paper fold itself, Harry wondered why there weren't any maps of the facility. Using the magical paper airplane like Ariadne's string, they followed it for ten minutes until it landed on a non-descript desk in a warren of cubicles.
A youngish man was buried under a mountain of parchment while he grumbled to himself. Clearing his throat, Sirius announced their presence.
"Ah, my Lord Black and Mr Potter," the man jovially greeted the duo. Glancing at his pocket watch, McDonnell mused, "Right on time. Capital." Gesturing with his hand, he beckoned them, "We'll just adjourn to a conference room for some privacy." He tucked a thick stack of files and parchment under his arm before leading the way.
When Harry closed the door behind him, McDonnell absently cast a series of Privacy charms. "Just give me a minute…" McDonnell asked as he arranged the forms and reports on the table provided. Satisfied, he smiled at the duo.
"Gentlemen, with the disclosures that have been run in the newspaper, I think we all are aware of the motive behind the opening of this investigation. However," he looked apologetically to Sirius, "There is still sufficient cause for CPS to look into the situation."
Harry's eyes narrowed a bit when McDonnell bluntly continued, "Twelve years of exposure to Dementors is enough to drive anyone mad, my Lord. I've read through the reports of the three Mind Healers that you had interviews with and to be frank, I'm astounded."
Lifting one report, the read aloud, "Despite a lingering adolescent immaturity, there appears to be no permanent damage to the subject by his exposure to Dementors. There are occasional episodes that the subject can escape without outside intervention. These episodes are severe in occurrence, but infrequent. Nevertheless, the occurrence indicates the need for therapy, but on the whole, the subject is fit for guardianship."
Looking Sirius in the eye, McDonnell gushed, "How did you manage to stave off the effects, sir?"
"Healthy living," Sirius quipped.
Rolling his eyes, Harry nudged his godfather. "Fine," he grumbled, "I'm an animagus. When the Dementors were near, I shifted form. That and the fact that I was innocent helped me stay sane."
McDonnell was scribbling notes furiously. After he finished, he told the dark haired wizards across from him, "As far as your guardianship Mr Potter, the will of your parents can't be found. We've been checking and Gringotts is in an uproar. Now that you've assumed control of your inheritance, I'd ask you to check your family vaults to see if there's a copy there for safekeeping."
Sirius frowned, "Did you check with Maturin, Tonks and Aubrey? They were James' solicitors."
"We did. Apparently the file for James and Lily Potter did not contain the will in question. The investigating Auror personally checked after the paralegal reported the file empty. As such," he indicated an unspoken apology with his hands, "There is no legal designated succession for guardianship of Mr Potter. Personally, I believe you, my Lord, when you tell me that you're Mr Potter's godfather, but that isn't a legal document. Since the only blood relatives are muggles…"
"What are you talking about? Harry is my second cousin," Sirius interjected.
This took McDonnell by surprise. Flipping through the file, he eventually regarded Sirius with confusion.
"Harry's grandmother was Dorea Potter, née Black. Dorea Black was my father's older sister."
"Oh." McDonnell replied lamely.
"And the muggle relatives you referred to earlier have abdicated all guardianship responsibilities to me using all the correct muggle forms. I also have the magical forms as well." He passed over a packet of papers that he'd picked up from the solicitors the day before. "These are notarized copies, feel free to keep them."
"This complicates matters," McDonnell muttered.
Speaking for the first time, Harry asked, "Why is that?"
"Well, you see. As far as I knew, this was a simple case of a minor with no designated guardian. The process is simple. Interested persons may apply for guardianship, there is a hearing where the parties press their claim, the minor in question can voice their preference and then a judge decides. This," he waved at the papers Sirius provided, "Complicate matters in that everything points to my Lord Black assuming your guardianship, but we are lacking a judge's order. Also, we have one other person who has already applied for guardianship of you."
Tapping his chin for a moment, McDonnell thought. Finally, he stood, "I'm going to check on a few things, I should be back in a half hour. Would you like to stay here or return at a later date?"
"We'd like to wrap this up if at all possible. We'll wait," Sirius told the man.
When they were alone, Harry scowled. "No will. No listing of our familial relation. No record of the Dursley's telling me to fuck off. Some mystery person wanting to be my guardian. What the fuck Padfoot?"
His eyes closed, Sirius rubbed the bridge of his nose, "I sure as hell hope that the other person isn't Dumbledore." Opening his eyes, he gave his godson a significant look "We may have to go for broke if he is." Grimacing, Harry nodded his understanding.
After ten minutes of waiting, Harry conjured a pack of cards and a cribbage board. Sirius took to the game with a will and they'd just finished their third game by the time McDonnell returned, an older man in tow.
"My Lord, Mr Potter, this is Wilfred Ehlinger, he's the juvenile court judge who usually rules on custody and guardianship cases."
When the greetings and handshakes had run their course, the four men sat while McDonnell explained, "I've explained to his lordship the twists and turns of the situation and he had graciously chosen to personally review the situation."
Harry smirked internally. Sometimes it paid off being The Boy-Who-Lived, godson of Sirius Black.
Ehlinger read through the papers Sirius had provided, grunting when he finished them. Harry interpreted it as a 'satisfied grunt' and not a 'why are you bothering me grunt'. Ten years of living with Vernon Dursley did pay off from time to time.
Finally, the older man leaned back in his chair while fixing Harry with a beady eyed gaze. "Lord Harry," the man began. "How did you come to be in the custody of Mr and Mrs V. Dursley of Surrey?" Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw McDonnell set up a Transcription Quill and parchment.
"I'm told that Headmaster Dumbledore arranged for my placement on their doorstep on midnight the night after my parents were slaughtered, my lord. Deputy Headmistress McGonagall was present that night. Despite her strong objections to my placement there, the Headmaster overrode her and left me there. She told me that he left my relatives a note to explain my appearance."
Stunned, Ehlinger repeated, "On the step with a note?"
"Yes, my Lord."
Bewildered at the lunacy of Dumbledore's actions, Ehlinger continued while McDonnell took notes. "Moses in the bulrushes...Would you prefer to live with your Aunt and Uncle or with my Lord Black?"
Harry outright laughed. "My Lord, I mean no disrespect, but my relatives tried to beat the magic out of me on more than one occasion. My back is covered with scars from the 'loving attentions' of my Aunt and Uncle. On the other hand, my Lord Black has been most welcoming, accommodating and, dare I even say. loving in his bringing me into his household. I would much rather prefer to live with my Lord Black."
McDonnell and Ehlinger gaped at Harry. "Dumbledore placed you with these animals?" Harry mutely nodded. "Did he ever check up on you?"
"I'm unaware if he did. I've just found out that he commissioned a squib to live in the area to watch over me. She lived two blocks away."
Not looking up from the Transcription Quill, McDonnell snorted at the ridiculousness of Mrs Figg's location compared with her mission as a minder.
Ehlinger grumbled before announcing, "We can end this farce right now, but there will be a price. I can sign all the paperwork awarding my Lord Black custody and guardianship of you, Lord Harry, but you will have to make a fairly explicit statement regarding your treatment while you resided with your relatives and Albus Dumbledore's involvement therein. This statement will be part of the public record. I tell no secrets when I inform you that he has already applied for guardianship of you also, but it will be a cold day in hell when I let him have custody of you."
Grimacing, Harry asked, "How explicit?"
Understanding Harry's reticence, Ehlinger replied, "Enough, Lord Harry that anyone who reads the report will know exactly what happened for the instances you describe."
Scrubbing his face, Harry swore under his breath. Sirius placed a steadying hand on his godson's shoulder. Resignedly, Harry nodded. "Where do I start?"
.oOo.
"Longtooth, Midnight needs you. He's in his room." Remus and the Grangers watched Hermione hustle out of the drawing room before turning to Sirius for an explanation. The dark haired wizard slowly meandered to the wet bar where he poured himself a generous tumbler of whisky.
In a low, dangerous voice, Sirius asked, "Did you know that Vernon Dursley tied Harry to the bannister before flogging him with an authentic cat o' nine tails? Harry was five. Petunia threw him down the stairs, breaking his leg. He was seven. Dudley beat Harry under his parents supervision so many times that Harry lost count…the neighbourhood kids under Dudley's coercion...Dursley's sister and her fucking dogs."
By the end of Sirius' recitation, tears were coursing down Padfoot's face. A lone tear escaped the staggered expression of Remus Lupin while Alice Granger covered her mouth, tears springing from her eyes. Steven stared at the wall, his expression set and grim.
"If he didn't need me, I'd torture them to death. Azkaban be damned."
.oOo.
The next few days, the household opened the paper with bated breath. Since Harry's statements were considered public record, any interested party could read the transcripts. The day after Sirius was awarded custody, the required two line announcement was published in the paper under the classified section.
Awarded Custody: Earl of Blackmoor, S. Black, of the minor Earl of Richmond, H. Potter.
With a snort, Harry had commented, "So that's what Lady Augusta was on about. I'll be an Earl upon my majority."
"When you pass your OWLs," Sirius corrected as he finished off an enormous bowl of porridge that was leavened with diced peaches.
"Whatever," Harry muttered as he tossed the paper on the table. Scrubbing his face, he turned to Hermione. "Any day, some Rita Skeeter wannabe is going to find that statement and then all hell will break loose."
Hermione rubbed his arm in commiseration but said nothing. Not much could be said.
.oOo.
Reductor. Cutting. Bone Exploding. Decapitation. Blood Boiling. Blinding.
Curse after curse Harry cast at the training dummies that Remus had created for their duelling room. After ten spells the first dummy burst into flames; the energy sumps had overflowed its container's construct.
He didn't miss a beat. Turning to the opposite corner, Harry continued his barrage on the next dummy.
Siege Engine. Chain Lightning. Detonation. Earth Shaker.
Still his rage mounted. Still his shame consumed him
Sweat poured off him in rivulets, darkening his shirt, slicking his hands and arms. Silently he destroyed target after target without pause, without remorse. Sometimes the target wore Vernon Dursley's face; sometimes it wore Lord Voldemort's face. Occasionally, it wore the long bearded visage of Albus Dumbledore.
At the doorway, Hermione Potter watched her husband attempt to vent his pain by pouring it out of him in violence and death. She knew him too well; she knew it wouldn't work. When he paused to catch his breath, she hurried to him. Not bothering with trivialities like speech, she wrapped him in her embrace, pulling him into her.
For the first time since he was five years old, Harry Potter wept for his savaged childhood. Hermione wept with him and for him. Tucking her face into his sodden hair, she whispered nothings to him, trying and failing to reassure him that she was there and all would be well in the end.
"I love you, Harry. I love you," she repeated in a mantra.
In the shadows of the door, Steven Granger watched.
.oOo.
It was two days later when the story broke. The headlines shrieked Harry's private humiliation while Dobby reported owls by the dozen bringing letters of condolence. It was at lunch that Fawkes appeared.
Harry closed his eyes as the phoenix mournfully trilled his greeting to The Boy-Who-Lived. Silently, Harry took the rolled parchment from Fawkes' extended leg before he opened the note. Without pause he read it, dropped the note on the table and walked out of the room.
With a hint of trepidation, Hermione plucked the letter from the table top before reading aloud.
Dear Harry,
I was chagrined to read the paper this morning. Even moreso was I shamed for my role in your suffering. No words can make right what I've done. No apology or even grovelling can wipe the past for you. I wish there was something that I could do to right this wrong. It shall be my largest regret when I die that I've been instrumental in your agony. If there is anything that I can do by action or omission to assist you, please tell me.
I am sorry, Harry. More sorry than I can express.
Your obedient servant,
A. Dumbledore
"You know, I think he's sincere," Hermione observed softly.
"He's sorry?" hissed Sirius. "He's fucking sorry?" Throwing his hands in the air with sarcastic relief, Sirius howled, "Well thank the maker! Albus is sorry! It's because of him that this is an issue at all!" he scowled the last.
Sirius had a bit of a complex about Harry's upbringing. He knew that if he'd had a cooler head about him that fateful day, he wouldn't have been sent to Azkaban and therefore raised his godson as he ought. At the same time, he also knew that he was only human. Alice Granger had told him that it was completely understandable that he'd lost his head and Sirius knew she was right. Harry agreed with her. Yet…
Standing, Sirius spun on his heel, leaving the family dining room at a near trot.
Alice rubbed Hermione's arm as the young woman wondered what she could do for her husband. "Just love him, dear," Alice advised. "You can't do any more than that. Love him the best you can."
Peeved a bit at her mother's unconscious condescension, Hermione nodded before leaving to find her man.
.oOo.
"I gotta do something to take my mind off this shit, "Harry grumbled to his wife. Even surrounded by his family, Harry had never felt as alone as he felt this morning. Unbidden, flashes of his life in Surrey intruded on his consciousness. A very large part of him wanted to Apparate to Privet Drive to wreak havoc, taking his vengeance in blood and pain.
The saner, calmer part of him realized that violence against his relatives at this point would merely allow him to sink to their level. Just as his Aunt and Uncle abused a young boy who was helpless against them, he could abuse them who were helpless against him and his magic.
Hermione was lying in his arms as they were ensconced in an ancient oak tree. She had found him rather easily. Becoming Longtooth, she found that Harry's scent was a track a mile wide. Eventually, she found his trail climbing a tree which overlooked a small lake deep in the forests of the estate. After scaling the tree, a few Warming charms were the ticket to an enjoyable afternoon in Wales during January.
From his chest, she smiled before offering, "We could shag until you pass out."
Snorting his laughter, Harry kissed the crown of her head. "Maybe tomorrow. Thanks, though."
Remembering what Sirius had once told him, he wormed out from under her. "Let's run," he challenged her. Transforming into Midnight, the black jaguar sprinted down the tree branches as if he were on the ground. Seconds later, a lioness was in pursuit, soft growls accompanying her exertions.
Thus they started their practice of running over the estate of Rowan Hill for a few hours every day. Usually in the morning they spent time with Remus working on Runes at the NEWT level and beyond. In the afternoons, they ran.
It was good exercise as well as a way to work out demons. Sirius had told Harry that his emotions were simpler as Padfoot and that helped him stay sane while in Azkaban. As Midnight, Harry's emotions were simpler as well. This uncomplicatedness helped him sort the emotional wheat from the chaff.
He sorted through his anger at Sirius for abandoning him to the Dursleys while in pursuit of vengeance against Peter.
He dealt with his anger at Remus for not finding him during his childhood.
It took him a while to come to a point where he could even contemplate Albus Dumbledore and maintain a semblance of equilibrium, but eventually he found a semblance of composure when the old man occupied his thoughts. It would be many long years before he could forgive the Headmaster, though.
He even addressed lingering anger at his parents for dying and leaving him alone to be hurt so badly.
Weeks went by as he and Hermione ran, explored, hunted and purged the poison as best they could. There was also a lot of sex, not all of it the most pure of heart. Both of them knew that they needed each other in this physical, carnal way. They were there for each other.
After finding the hot spring, they made it their outdoor hot tub. Hours were spent soaking in the warm water. Hours that he talked and she listened. Hours where she talked and he listened.
Dobby cooked Treacle Tarts, one after the other.
Sirius and Remus duelled with the couple.
Dora joked and laughed with them.
Steven and Alice were quietly supportive.
Minerva dropped by as often as she could.
The Twins sent letters describing their new reign of terror now that they were certified Occlumens.
Neville and Luna sent letters describing the day to day humdrum of Hogwarts.
Life went on.
.oOo.
There had been no Death Eater attacks since the setback in Diagon Alley to Voldemort's leaderless forces. There was much speculation in the papers wondering if the resurgent forces of the Dark Lord had been dealt a fatal blow. Harry, Remus, Hermione and Sirius had discussed it for a bit before reluctantly coming to a resolution.
The snake was coiling. It was merely a matter of time until another rampage was unleashed upon Britain. "They may be waiting for their master," Remus offered.
Shaking his head, Sirius declared, "I'm going batshit. Let's get out of here."
.oOo.
"Mum, Dad, would you like to go on an outing with us?" Hermione asked.
Closing her book, Alice looked up at her daughter. "Where to, dear?"
Sitting across from her mother, Hermione looked to her Dad. Steven was at his typewriter, a pencil in his mouth and his hair sticking up in all directions from running his hands through his hair. "Harlech Castle looks interesting. It's a certified world heritage site and is one of the best preserved non magical castles in Britain."
Steven frowned. Without looking up, he asked, "Is it safe?"
Sirius answered, "It should be. It's not a magical site, so I doubt any Death Eaters or the like will be there and as far as anyone else is concerned, we're a family on a day trip."
Smiling, Alice stood, "Let's go, then. It'll be good to get out."
The wind was brisk, but the sun was uncharacteristically out and sunny. A few Warming charms applied to gloves and shoes went a long way to keeping the Family comfortable. The castle was right on the coast to the southeast of Rowan Hill. Its beautiful vista also exposed the visitors to the strong winds roiling in from the north Atlantic.
Sirius was a kid in a candy store. He dogged Harry and Hermione up the northern turret to the top before he hounded Remus and Tonks into the dungeons. Alice and Steven meandered through the remarkably preserved castle, hand in hand just enjoying being out from their adopted home.
Harry, once he escaped his godfather, took Hermione to the tallest battlement where they cuddled and enjoyed being alive. When the castle was built by Edward I, Harlech Castle was on the seashore. In the intervening seven hundred years, silt deposits had pushed the beach a good half mile away. The scene was exactly the same as the one at home, though. Since they weren't at home, though, being out gave the visitors a freshening in their outlooks on life. Where the walls were beginning to press in on them the day before, today life was pretty good.
.oOo.
"We need to do that more often," Alice announced while the group hung up their coats. They found a small inn where they got dinner and a local beer. Steven had nodded, allowing Hermione to have her 'first' bitter. Sirius hadn't thought twice as he ordered one for Harry and one for himself.
Tonks was snuggled up to Remus and enjoying the warm inn when she stiffened before sighing audibly. "Communication charm," she grumbled. "There's been another attack with the Dark Mark overhead."
Frowning, Remus asked, "Where?"
"Lancashire. Apparently Voldemort's fanboys attacked a muggle farm," Dora grumbled as she gathered her hat and coat. After giving Moony a quick, but thorough kiss, she waved to the rest of the family before heading out the door.
The mood dampened considerably, the remaining family silently ate their meal. When they finished and were shrugging into their coats, Harry leaned into his wife, "We probably need to make some more visits."
Grim faced, Hermione nodded her agreement. Behind the agreeable visage of a fourteen year old girl, the soldier began to plan.
.oOo.
"Fong, it's cold."
"Shut it Midnight. Don't be such a girl."
"Fong you, Padfoot."
"Would you two stop it? Come on," Hermione beckoned to the rest of the group. Dora, Remus and Minerva approached the rope they were using as a portkey.
It was one AM and the family was kitted out in black. They were headed out to visit the home of Thorfin Rowle and his wife, Ygdra. When Harry saw a picture of Rowle, he shuddered in recognition. Now he had a name to the face of the first man he'd intentionally killed.
Once the six combatants were touching the rope, Hermione touched it with her wand, whispering the activation phrase, "Justice."
.oOo.
Only one word could accurately describe the Rowle home: compound. The walls were twelve feet tall and topped with poisoned razor wire. Guard dogs patrolled the lawn while Midnight could hear something large in the woods away to the north.
"I think it's a troll," Remus whispered.
Minerva changed back to her human form. "Yes, it is." Scanning the landscape, she opined, "This won't be easy to enter."
Padfoot shifted to Sirius, who motioned to his godson and his wife to gather round. Once everyone was close and human, he cast a privacy charm. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way. The hard way is to slink around for a few days probing for weaknesses all the while freezing our manly and womanly bits off."
Hermione rolled her eyes before asking, "And the easy way?"
Sirius smiled while Harry chuckled. "Easy, my love." Harry answered for Sirius. "Entry via Reductor curse, followed by lots of running, hexing and then a bottle of Ogden's finest."
Dora shrugged, "I'm game."
Minerva looked up and around. Pointing to a tall oak, she told the group, "I'll get high in the tree to provide overwatch."
Harry nodded before telling his former head of house, "Use your portkey when you see the flames."
Looking each in the eye, she wished them, "Godspeed my friends."
"And to you as well, Minerva," Sirius replied.
Once the tabby cat had settled high in the tree, Sirius turned to his godson, "Will you do the honours my good man?"
"I'd be delighted, sir."
Hermione shook her head while muttering something that sounded similar to, "Morons."
Once the five person assault team was ready, Remus flashed his open hand in Minerva's direction. Her feline night vision saw the streak of white that was the werewolf's palm, so she turned back to human form. With deliberate precision, she pointed her wand, breathed deeply before slowly letting it out. At the midpoint of her exhale, she incanted, "Percutio."
The invisible eldritch fire of the Piercing charm lanced out, drilling a hole in the head of the closest guard dog. Two more incantations resulted in two more dead dogs.
Shifting back to her tabby cat form, Minerva let loose a yowl, "Meroorow."
Harry's only reply was, "Coracis!"
The Siege Engine spell was a wonderful piece of magic. When Harry cast it, a twenty foot section of the wall surrounding the Rowle home exploded inward. Before the debris all landed, Remus was through the opening, Sirius and Dora on his heels. Harry and Hermione were last through, scanning left and right as their elders dashed for the house.
Off to the left, they heard a scream. Turning they saw a man falling to the ground, one of his legs a twisted mass of bone, blood and gore. Minerva had used a Bone Exploding curse to great effect.
Surging forward, Remus cast a quick Reductor curse at the main doors. The entryway was reduced to splinters as he sprinted in the house and up the stairs. Dora was right behind him as Sirius and the Potters split off to clear the downstairs.
In the cinema it seems perfectly straightforward. The good guys run in the house, a few shots (or spells in this case) are fired, and then the good guys come out with a bloody shoulder or scalp. Everyone smiles at each other then goes off to have a beer or sex. Sometimes both.
The cinema skips the pulse pounding fear; the adrenalin fuelled heightened senses and the confusion. Harry heard shouts and spells from upstairs. Flashing through his mind was concern for Remus and Dora, concern for Hermione and Sirius all the while being as focused as humanly possible on the room in front of him.
Where are they? There? No. What was that? There!
There was movement to his front left. Before he could think, his wand was up and a silent Reductor curse sped toward the target. The unidentified man didn't even see his death coming, his torso exploded before he could focus on the inhabitants of the room.
Harry didn't stop. Pushing Sirius out of the way, he led the way down the hall to the study. There were screams upstairs now. A huge blond man stepped out of the study when Harry was fifteen feet away. The Boy-Who-Lived recognized the target instantly.
In a crazy déjà vu, Harry cast the Cutting curse which decapitated Thorfin Rowle.
Again.
The huge Death Eater slowly began to topple, his headless corpse fountaining blood over Harry.
Again.
Time slowed for The Boy-Who-Lived. He was mentally transported to the future that was and he remembered. He remembered why he was there that night and why he was here tonight. In a microsecond, Harry's reality crystalized for him. He was fighting for his love and his life. He was fighting for his Family and other families so that they might not suffer as he had suffered.
He didn't look back as Rowle's corpse thumped on the hardwood floors. A quick Cleaning spell cleared the blood from him as he headed toward the dining rooms where he could hear Sirius and Hermione exchanging spellfire with an opponent.
.oOo.
Remus had a broken arm. Rowle was either hosting a multi-day party or his home was a base camp for the rejuvenated Death Eaters. Either way, Moony and Tonks had ripped through the upstairs, he using the Reductor curse, she the Blasting spell.
"There has to be a dozen of them here!" Tonks had shouted as they fought their way through the half-awake Death Eaters as they stumbled out of bed.
He was 'tidying up' one last room when a hiding Death Eater had burst from a closet swinging a beater's bat. The bat had broken Remus' wand arm, dropping Moony to the floor.
The Death Eater was about to crush Remus' skull when Dora helped out her boyfriend. In a moment of hilarity, she Vanished the bat from the man's hands. Not realizing he was now unarmed, he swung down at Remus, nothing in his hands.
From behind him, Dora muttered, "Tsk, tsk, idiot." Her eyes narrowed when he dove toward her. Pushing hard with her magic, she incanted, "Obliviate!"
The Death Eater reeled away. Finally he slumped to the floor, drool starting to dribble from the side of his mouth.
Ignoring the now harmless Death Eater who might remember how to talk, Dora moved to Remus' side, "You alright, love?"
Groaning, he accepted her help to stand as he grabbed his wand. Muttering, "Ferula," he nodded when the magical splint finished forming. "That'll have to do for now. Come on, let's get out of here."
Meeting up with Harry, Hermione and Sirius at the foot of the steps, Remus was happy to see that the rest of his family appeared unhurt. Looking closer, he saw a long cut on Harry's arm and Sirius was limping.
"Let's get the fuck out of here," Sirius growled.
"Do the duty, would you love?" Harry asked his wife as he helped Sirius out the door.
Turning back to the interior of the house, Hermione raised her wand before incanting, "Fiendfyre."
In the shadows of the roaring flames, the Family portkeyed home. It was almost four AM when they were healed and able to crawl into bed. By then, Sirius' broken leg had been set and Skele-Gro forced down his throat. Harry's cut and Remus' arm had also been healed. Minerva left them all after a long look, as if she were trying to burn them into her consciousness, lest she forget them. Silently shaking her head, she headed to the entry hall fireplace to Floo back to the castle. Hesitating, she turned back to her 'children'.
"Goodnight all. Get some sleep. You did good work out there tonight."
.oOo.
Because of the family's raids, the Prophet coined a name for them: The Fiendfyre Vigilantes. The targets all being suspected or 'exonerated' Death Eaters wasn't missed by the editorial staff of the newspaper. Even the wireless began discussing the raids.
George Fisher was an extremely popular conservative talk show host who had a daily segment that played from half eleven to noon. Since the magical community didn't have telephones, the show was essentially a half hour of Mr Fisher elucidating his beliefs. He tended to think of it as 'enlightening the masses'.
Nonetheless, George Fisher spent the entire show on the first Monday of February commending the Fiendfyre Vigilantes. "I'm not saying that what they're doing is right. They're outside of the law and that's not on. However, they are doing what needs to be done, what our government is too afraid to do."
The Daily Prophet for the first Tuesday of February showed a picture of the Dark Mark which had glittered over the gutted ruins of Fisher's home. Fisher himself hadn't been home, anticipating an attack or the like.
Tuesday's show was one for the books. Hellfire and brimstone would have been an accurate description of Fisher's rant. The man took an enormous breath as the clock chimed half eleven, began talking and went for a half hour.
"…disgusting behaviour. One would think these Death Eaters mental defectives…"
"…they act like children. 'If you won't follow my rules, I'll take my ball and go home' is a perfect description of these fools. Unfortunately, their prey isn't always so lucky as to have alternate residences, as I have."
"Why isn't the government doing something? I guarantee that if half-bloods or muggleborns were acting like the Death Eaters, the Minister and the Wizengamot would be screaming for blood!"
Harry chuckled at the last. Sirius had turned on the wireless to tune into Fisher's rant. The family had delayed lunch in order to hear Fisher's extolling of the virtues of the Fiendfyre Vigilantes while damning the vices of the government.
Midway through the show, Steven had mused, "This fellow has a decided opinion, yeah?"
Without looking up from his book, Remus replied, "Unfortunately, he's spot on."
.oOo.
"Harry, may I speak with you for a minute?"
Harry looked up from his book to see a stern faced Steven Granger accompanied by his nervous daughter. Sliding a bookmark in the very frank biography of Gellert Gridlewald, Harry indicated the chair opposite him. Hermione slid into the open space next to Harry on the divan while Steven settled in his chair.
"Dobby," Harry called softly.
When the house elf appeared, Harry asked, "Would you please bring tea and snacks?" Moments later the request was gleefully filled. Harry poured in silence while he wondered what had his wife so upset and her father so serious.
Steven's quietude and long looks had been increasing over the previous weeks until the man rarely spoke. Harry had given up trying to figure out the man, he had much bigger issues at hand. After the Rowle House raid, the Death Eaters had struck out in force. Unfortunately, they had been striking out at non magical targets. Over two dozen families had been slaughtered in the previous two weeks.
Steven took a long sip from his cup before glancing out the window. "You two don't know it, but the Army paid my way through dental school. In return, I served for four years before school. I was in the Parachute Regiment."
Harry closed his eyes in understanding. Steven's long silences, the contemplative expressions while watching Harry and Hermione duel with the rest of the Family, the aura of menace and his overall fitness was explained in those six words: 'I was in the Parachute Regiment'.
"During the last year of my term, I went aboard ship and we went to a little known archipelago in the southern Atlantic. Maybe you've heard of the Falkland Islands?"
Neither teen replied to the rhetorical question. Hermione's grip on her husband's hand tightened, though.
He continued to stare out the window to the sea as he digressed. "When you went off to that school Pumpkin, I was scared shitless. I wasn't able to protect you anymore and I didn't like it. I also was completely unaware as to what you were going to be exposed. I mean really, what the hell is Transfiguration?"
Hermione started to answer her father but subsided at his glare.
"You know what I mean. The school does a piss poor job of preparing the non-magical parents for their children's experiences. Anyway, we were less than pleased when the word of your petrifaction came to us in your second year. Fortunately for your continued enrolment at Hogwarts, Minerva brought the word herself and had the solution of that draught in her hip pocket. I tell you, I was a slick minute from hauling you out of that school. The only thing that stayed my hand was the fact that you were happy. You had friends and I couldn't take that away from you."
Nodding to Harry, he admitted, "You've done something for my little girl that I couldn't and I'm eternally indebted to you, Harry." Turning back to his daughter, he continued, "After last year, though, you really hadn't changed much. This year, though…" he trailed off as he looked out the window again.
"I've seen war and death. I've visited it upon my fellow man. I've also seen professional soldiers who've been trained to the razor's edge. You two are Bringers of Death, just as I was in my youth. That doesn't happen in a few off hours of practice as you claimed. It's a result of long hours of training and experience. There's something going on and I don't like lies. Secrets I understand, but we're family. Whatever you're hiding has crossed the line from a secret to outright lying and I don't like it."
Turning back to the couple, he demanded, "Tell me the truth. Now."
Harry gulped.
Hermione paled.
"S-Sir, it's a very strange story. Nearly unbelievable, but it's true. It's also a long one. We should probably get Mrs Granger so as to only tell the story once." Harry was severely annoyed with himself. He hadn't stuttered like this since he admitted to Hermione that he loved her. Quite a long time ago.
Steven regarded the teens for a long minute before nodding, "You're right. I'll fetch Alice and meet back here in ten minutes or so. Should you fetch Sirius and Remus?"
Wincing, Harry admitted, "They already know, but I'll get them just the same." To save me from the dreaded wrath of the father in law.
An annoyed snort escaped the former Staff Sergeant Granger as he rose to find his wife. He was displeased that he and his wife were the last to find out.
Ten very short minutes later, the Family was gathered to discuss The Secret.
.oOo.
Harry and Hermione were seated on a divan. She was so close to Harry that she was almost in his lap. There was nothing sexual about it, though. She needed his presence and reassurance that all would be well. Despite her age, she loved her parents and feared their rejection.
Sirius, Remus and Dora were also present. All three were uncharacteristically silent Remus held Dora's hand, but other than that, they were in silent solidarity with the Potters.
A roar from the entrance hall fireplace announced the last member of the party. Minerva strode in the drawing room to the surprise of the Grangers. The Deputy Head of Hogwarts was puffing from her obvious hurrying.
"I apologize for being late. I had to finish up the sixth years early."
The Grangers were impressed that the professor thought this meeting important enough to cut short one of her classes. All present paused before turning to Harry and Hermione, expectation plain on their faces.
Softly, Hermione told her parents, "I want to start by apologizing." This surprised her parents and it was plain in their expressions. "Since the beginning of the school year I've been holding back what we're going to disclose to you." Looking to her lap where her fingers were entwined with Harry's, she admitted, "I was afraid you'd…well, I guess I was afraid you'd turn me away if you knew the truth."
Neither Granger said anything, just nodded their understanding.
Harry took a deep breath, "We have the memories of our twenty seven year old selves." When Alice and Steven merely furrowed their brows, Harry continued, "By the time we reached twenty seven, Britain and the rest of Europe was in ruin. At the end of our fifth year, everything fell apart. Dumbledore was killed the day after Sirius died. Voldemort immediately overthrew the magical Ministry followed by the mundane a few years later."
Hermione spoke up, "We got you two out of the country before the wave broke. We stayed here to fight in the resistance while you two immigrated to St Louis. It was…bad here."
Harry gently wrapped his arm about his wife's shoulder. "Hermione and I married when we were twenty four. By that point, everyone we knew was dead, including everyone else in this room." Steven's eyes bored in on The Boy-Who-Lived while Alice mistily looked at the others in a new light.
"We were hiding in Cornwall when Hermione was killed," Harry told the assemblage. "I went round the twist but eventually figured out a way to send my memories back in time to hopefully prevent losing her. I performed the ritual on Hermione's grave and we think that had some influence on bringing her back in time with me, but we're not sure. In the end, though, it doesn't matter how; she did come back with me."
Now, Alice and Steven were regarding their daughter with considering expressions. Hermione summoned her Gryffindor courage to look her parents in the eye. What she saw caused her to begin to silently cry.
They were looking at her like they didn't know her at all.
Pulling her tight to him, Harry murmured soothing words to her. Minerva cleared her throat, "I'm sure you're having a difficult time believing all this, I know I did. I can assure you that they are telling the truth." Reaching into her cloak, she withdrew her shrunken pensieve.
"This is a device that allows persons to view memories of others. Since you are not magical, you cannot enter the memory like we can, but we can display the memory over the bowl so you can view it." She set the miniature pensieve on the table before returning it to its normal size.
Steven shook his head slightly, "That's unnecessary, thank you for the offer though." His voice dwindled when he continued, "This explains everything."
"But…" Hermione croaked.
Looking lost, Alice turned to Hermione. "It's a bit much to take in. What happened to our daughter when you came back?" Hermione closed her eyes, crushed.
"She's sitting right there," Sirius answered with some heat. "She's still your daughter."
Steven stood, extending his hand to Alice. Helping her out of his seat, he told everyone, "We should probably retire before we say anything else we will regret. Please give us some privacy to think on this." He looked at the floor when he made his pronouncement.
When they left, Hermione began to sob. It seemed that all her fears had come to fruition.
"I've got you, honey. I've got you," Harry murmured to his wife as he wrapped her in his embrace. His attempts to console her fell flat as she was consumed in pain.
.oOo.
Remus, Sirius, Minerva and Dora sat in the drawing room after the Grangers and Potters had retired to their rooms. Sirius was irate. He finally had the beginnings of a new family after the nightmare that the Black Family had been as he grew up. Seeing Steven and Alice piss it away infuriated him.
Dora had crossed the room to go to Hermione when Remus had called, "Wait. Let her and Harry be for a bit. She'll want us later, but right now she needs him."
"I can't believe her Mum said that," Dora groaned. "She's her daughter for cryin' out loud."
Remus pulled his girlfriend down next to him. "They're hurt and confused. I'm sure that soon they'll be fine and be apologizing to our cubs."
Minerva and Sirius were quiet as they sipped their tea. Sirius gave a low growl before he slammed his cup down. Scowling, he stalked out of the room. Remus and Minerva exchanged a glance before Remus followed his best friend.
Dora and Minerva were quiet in their contemplation before the young witch broke the stillness. Softly, she told the older witch, "You know, I've always respected you. Being a Mistress of Transfiguration, the Deputy Head and Head of Gryffindor made you this larger than life person to me. You showed me that a witch could amount to more than a baby factory."
Puzzled, Minerva replied, "Thank you for the nice words, but your mother is a Healer…"
Laughing slightly, Dora countered, "That's my mum. Of course she's Superwoman." Trailing off, she stared out the window. Minerva could plainly see that the woman was working up her nerve.
"Why?"
Confused, Minerva blinked before asking, "Why have I pushed myself so hard?"
Shaking her pink topped head, Dora elaborated, "Why do you fight, when you have so much in your life to lose?"
Minerva's expression hardened. "They took my man."
"A lot of women were widowed and they didn't or don't fight."
The older witch cocked an eyebrow at Dora's impudence, but upon reflection shouldn't have been surprised. Andromeda Black had never been shy about speaking her mind, this trait had run true for her daughter. After a deep sigh, Minerva made a decision. Apparently, in the future that was, she'd told Harry and Hermione the details of the aftermath of Jamie's murder. Remus and Sirius knew the bald facts, but none of the details. Considering the situation, she felt that that baring her soul could help young Dora Tonks. The young woman was at a crossroads of her life and she needed as firm a grounding in reality as possible if she were to be true to herself.
"It was late, nearly eleven o'clock when the Death Eaters came. Jamie was closing up the house while I was upstairs getting ready for bed. I heard the shouting, so I scooped up my wand and Apparated to the parlour. That's where I found Jamie's headless corpse."
Minerva closed her eyes and swallowed the tears that threatened. In her mind's eye, she could plainly see the mangled remains of her husband as if it were just yesterday and not fifty years ago.
"As I said, I was getting ready for bed, so I was in a state of undress." Shrugging with one shoulder, she conceded, "That may not have made a difference, though. I killed six of them before they disarmed me. There were five of them that survived subduing me. They took turns raping me."
"Oh gods…" Dora choked. As a female Auror, rape was a very real possibility as a victim and as an investigating officer. It was discussed frankly during training. To have it happen to a friend, though, made it seem more real and more horrifying.
Her expression set, Minerva elaborated, "I fight so that others never have to suffer what I suffered. I fight so that young women can become old women with their man beside them every night. I fight so that young women aren't plagued by fear, nightmares and pain for decades. I fight for those who can't, because I can."
Minerva's steely gaze transfixed the pale faced young witch. "Because you can fight, because you can defend those who can't defend themselves, you too must stand against the darkness. You too, must do what you can to protect the innocent."
Turning to the door by which Harry and Hermione had left, she continued, "I made a serious error in judgement not too long ago. They," she nodded toward the doorway, "Warned me about young Malfoy and the others of his kind. I resisted doing what needed to be done. Part of me wanted to believe that young Draco was still a child and needn't trod the path his father had ploughed. To my shame, I didn't trust their judgment." She hung her head for a long minute. "Because of that, I allowed Ginny Weasley to be hurt in a very similar way to what I experienced.. After what she suffered last year…"
Shaking off the morbid castigation, Minerva refocused, "Harry and Hermione have given everything and still they fight. Despite their protests of not caring about the future of our society, they still fight. They may not work toward the reformation of our world, but they will save us all."
"I hope her parents appreciate it."
.oOo.
Standing on top of a small hillock, Hermione had been watching her mother for twenty minutes. Alice was sitting in a charmed section of Rowan Hill's formal gardens. One of Harry's ancestors had charmed and warded the area so that it was always a comfortable seventy two degrees and sunny regardless of the weather surrounding the patch of land. In one of the journals of his ancestor, Owain Potter, Harry found that it'd been called Cynnes Gardd; Welsh for 'Warm Garden'.
Alice was sitting on one of the many benches in Cynnes Gardd, staring at the enormous rose bushes. Even from where Hermione watched, over a half mile away, the sweet scent of the flowers tantalized.
A crunching from her left distracted Hermione. Turning, she saw Midnight slinking toward her. Harry had wanted a quick run to burn off some excess energy. It had been four days since the reveal of The Secret. Hermione had been devastated as her parents kept to their rooms, trying to sort out their feelings regarding their daughter's time travel.
Sirius had raged for the first two days. He wanted to eviscerate Steven and Alice for how they'd hurt Hermione by not immediately accepting her. In the end, Harry pulled him into his study.
"Sirius, I appreciate how upset you are for Hermione, but you've got to stop."
Angry and confused, Sirius retorted, "Why?"
Sighing, Harry sunk into his chair, "Because you're making it worse for Hermione. Every time you rant about how fucked up her parents are, it drives a spike into her heart."
"Oh," Sirius breathed, deflating. After a long minute, he nodded, "I'll give it a rest." Wagging his finger at his godson, Sirius' face became stormy again, "But so help me, if they kick her in the stones again, I'm going to skin them."
So Sirius had calmed down, which in turn helped Hermione. Her pain level decreased from Excruciating to Awful. In years to come, she would tell Harry that his constant presence and support allowed her to come through this phase in one piece. He put her first, his own desires and needs ruthlessly shoved to the side.
"Hey," she greeted him as he changed back to his human form.
Wordlessly, he wrapped his arms around her from behind. Grateful, she scooted into his embrace, relishing the protected feeling which washed over her. When he saw Alice in the distance, a split second decision flashed through his mind. Nodding to himself, he urged his wife, "Go. Go to her. I bet she's hurting as much as you."
Reluctantly, Hermione slid from his embrace to shuffle down the hill. Turning back to him, she saw him standing on the crown of the hill, the sun shining behind him. It was a scene from a fairy tale; Harry was The Hero, the last bastion of truth and justice. Nodding his reassurances to her, he whispered, "Go to her."
Turning back to the Cynnes Gardd, she squared her shoulders and strode off. Settling down on his haunches, Harry hoped he was right in reading the situation.
.oOo.
When Hermione passed the ward line to enter the magical garden, it was as if she'd walked through a portal to another world. The gloomy cold day of midwinter Wales fell away, leaving her in a near tropical setting. Shedding her coat and gloves, she hesitated.
Closing her eyes while drawing a deep breath, Hermione summoned her courage. Pushing her fear aside, she silently approached her mother. Sliding on to the bench next to Alice, Hermione waited.
For over five minutes the two women sat in the quiet, both staring ahead at the sights, neither seeing. Wrapped in their thoughts and feelings, it was a stormy moment for both as they each warred within themselves for differing reasons.
Overcoming her fears, Alice reached out, silently taking her daughter's hand. The storm in Hermione broke as she began to sob in relief. Mutely, Alice wrapped her daughter in an embrace. Tightly she held the product of her love of Steven, the flesh of her flesh. Unbidden, Alice, too, began to weep.
Eventually, both women calmed a bit and the tears dried up. From her mother's embrace, Hermione whispered, "I love you Mum."
"I love you too, Pumpkin. I'm so sorry for what I said."
Nodding, The Smartest Witch of the Age accepted the apology. "I understand."
From the hillock a half mile away, Harry Potter released the breath he'd been unknowingly holding. All was well or would be soon. Shifting to the black jaguar, he loped off to find his godfather.
.oOo.
"I'm sorry," Alice told her daughter.
Confused, Hermione asked, "For what?"
Looking at her entwined hands, Alice murmured, "It's silly, I know. But I'm sorry that I've not been there for you for all those years." When Hermione began to object, Alice caught her daughter's gaze as she rode over her, "As I said, it's silly, but I'm your mother. It's my job to take care of you, regardless of your age. In the fall when we sent you off to school, you were our thirteen year old young woman and now you're our twentysomething year old married woman."
Hermione warmed at Alice's use of 'our' when describing her current state. Looking back to her lap, Alice finished, "And I wasn't there for you during your trials. I know it's irrational and ridiculous, but I can't help feeling that I've failed you."
Stunned, Hermione stared at her mother. "But what about the time travel?"
Shrugging, Alice replied, "Not much we can do about it now. At first I admit that I was horrified, thinking that the older you must have destroyed the younger you or some such. Your father brought me around on that. He reminded me what Sirius said: You are my daughter, regardless of your memories.
"I've been sitting here wondering how I could have helped you." Shaking her head in remorse with regrets that she couldn't put in words, Alice Granger sighed deeply.
"Mum…thanks." Hermione squeezed her mother's hand, "I understand, I think. I think you should know that when Harry and I convinced you and Dad to go to America…before…it was a huge relief to us. Knowing you were safe and out of their reach was immensely reassuring."
Alice waggled her head in a 'so-so' motion. Eventually Hermione internally conceded that she couldn't convince her mother she was wrong. With a grin, she admitted, "Now I know what Harry's always on about."
With a smile, Alice asked, "What's that?"
"He's always whinging that I'm so stubborn that I wouldn't admit grass was green if I was convinced otherwise."
Alice chuckled, "Your Dad also pointed out another upside to the whole thing. We don't have to deal with suitors or teenage angst. That's all done and settled."
Hermione smiled. "Dad's alright then?"
Pursing her lips, Alice replied, "You need to talk to your father. I'm not going to get involved. That's between the two of you."
Frowning, Hermione said, "You can't do that Mum, you can't leave me up in the air like that. Is he upset?"
"Not per se. Talk to him sweetheart. He loves you very much, as do I. Never doubt that." Patting her daughter's hand, she reiterated, "Talk to him."
.oOo.
Steven Granger was sitting on the balcony off the sitting room in the suite he shared with his wife when Hermione knocked on the door. Shuffling into the sitting room, he closed the French doors behind him as he called, "Come in!"
Hermione entered. As she turned her back to her father to shut the door, his expression tightened. Shaking his head, he moved to the fireplace with a grim expression.
Indicating she should take the seat across from him, Steven began. "Hermione, I shan't sport with your intelligence by telling you that everything is fine and dandy between us. It is not and we both know that.
"I also want you to know that you are my daughter and I love you more than my own life."
Hermione exhaled softly, the relief coursing through her like a living thing.
"I'm most disappointed about your dishonesty. I understand your reticence and fear, but I don't think we've ever given you cause to think we'd reject you out of hand."
Five separate examples flew to the forefront of The Smartest Witch of the Age's mind, but she held her tongue. Now was not the time to prove her father wrong.
"Time will help, but I need your word that you won't lie to me again. I don't want to know what you and Harry get up to," Steven visibly shivered at the thought, "But tell me if you don't want to answer. Don't lie to me. I don't believe that is too much to ask for, do you?"
"No Dad. It's not," Hermione replied softly. "I promise I won't lie to you again. If there's as topic I'd rather not discuss, I'll tell you that, but I won't lie to you again."
"Thank you, Pumpkin. I believe you." He stood before pulling his daughter out of her chair to give her an enveloping hug, a warm 'Dad' type of embrace that only he could do.
After they resettled in their chairs, Steven's expression became uncomfortable. "There's something else. Something I've not spoken about to your mother and to be frank, I'm afraid to know the answer."
Worried, Hermione's smile melted into a frown.
Avoiding her gaze, he elaborated, "As I mentioned to you and Harry a few days ago, I was in 2Para and I've killed in service to the Crown. You two are both soldiers of a kind, aren't you?"
Slowly closing her eyes, Hermione saw where her father was going and dreaded having to answer the expected question but ploughed ahead in the new spirit of openness. "Yes, we are Dad. And to answer your next question; Yes, I have killed."
Slowly, Steven's eyes closed before his head dropped to his chest. "How many?"
Narrowing her eyes at his extremely personal question, she answered in the way she could, "Too many."
Softly, so softly that she wasn't sure she was supposed to hear, Steven commented, "One is too many."
"I served so that you could live safely. The Troubles were raging in the Seventies and early eighties...I never wanted this for you…"
After a long moment in silence while he digested the unpalatable truth, he told his daughter, "Of course, I'll say nothing of this to your mother. It's your story to tell."
Unsure, Hermione asked, "Should I tell her? Would it be better coming from you?"
Chewing on his lip, Steven muttered, "I don't like secrets…Yes, I think your Mum should know this." Turning to his daughter, he made a peace offering, "I'll tell her if you'd like."
"Thanks, Daddy, I'd appreciate that."
He nodded, lost in thought before something occurred to him, "Are you and Harry married?"
She shrugged, "We consider ourselves to be."
The next question was on his lips before he pulled it back, muttering, "I really don't want to know."
Hermione smiled sweetly, knowing what Steven was thinking about. The mischievous expression she knew so well stole over his face before he told her, "That tosser never even asked my permission!"
"Actually, Dad, he did. He wrote you and Mum a letter before he proposed. You said yes."
"Damn."
Pulling her Dad out of his chair, she told him, "Now you have a son to knock about with, scratch unmentionable places while drinking vast quantities of beer and screaming at the telly."
Brightening, he replied, "I do, don't I?"
"And you can add Sirius and Remus. The lot of you can go to the pub to be rowdy leaving us behind to enjoy the quiet."
"I do, don't I?"
A/N
1. I own nothing. Thanks to all who reviewed the first nine chapters. Story status, as always, can be found on my Author's page on FanFiction(dot)net. There's a lot of Granger action in this chapter, but it's been building for a while. More action next chapter.
2. Recommendation for the chapter is Harry Potter and the Balm of Time by ladylaughalot (looks like there's a sequel coming too!). Like Harry Potter and the Three Travelers, this is a good story despite the inclusion of JKR's ridiculous plot device that is Horcruxes. I especially enjoy the inclusion of James and Lily in the mix.
3. I just gotta say that 'I Just Won A Free Toaster Oven' has got to be the best screen name I've ever seen. You go, man.
4. I'm not a lawyer so I have no idea if statements made by minors are available in the public forum. I needed a 'price', though. Without it, the events were ridiculously boring.
5. I don't think that my extrapolations of the Dursley's abusive behaviour are unsupported by canon. Think about the mind set of adults who call a child 'freak' or 'boy' in the most degrading manner possible. What kind of person would lock a child in a cupboard? We know that Petunia swung a skillet at Harry's head, chucking him down the stairs is the same type of behaviour. One doesn't swing a skillet at a person's head for fun, they swing it to do damage. Vernon's 'poke him with your Smelting's stick' comment is outrageous. He's encouraging his son to use a weapon to attack a child in his care. They never stopped when Marge put her dogs on Harry to the point where he was treed. Think about that for a moment. Someone orders a dog to attack your brother/nephew/child/neighbour and you do…nothing? With the rage the man displays repeatedly through the series, I have no problem believing that he beat Harry bloody. Again, JKR should be keelhauled for her blithe dismissal of Harry's treatment by his relatives.
6. It was asked in a review re: the attackers of Minerva and her late husband how they could be Death Eaters. They weren't. In To Stand Against the Darkness I used a similar situation where I rightly described the attackers as the Knights of Walpurgis, Grindlewald's supporters. I didn't want to get into the difference between Death Eaters and Knights of Walpurgis in this fic as it really didn't matter (and I'm too lazy to go back and change the previous chapter now that at least one of you has twigged this).
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