Chapter 13
DMLE ARRESTS 47 IN WIDE AREA SWEEP
"Amelia did well," Sirius commented as he read parts of the paper to the Family while they ate their breakfast.
"Apparently some of the 'oldest of the Pureblood families'," he snorted in derision as he quoted, "Believe that this is a 'systematic attempt to destroy wizarding Britain by eliminating its leaders'."
Sirius was nearly growling as he wadded up the paper before throwing it into the fire. "Let's all conveniently forget that the forty seven people she arrested were the airtight cases for criminal behaviour. I'm sure there were another hundred or so for whom she had some evidence, just not enough for an airtight conviction." Standing, he stomped to the sideboard to plate up his breakfast.
Spinning about, he held up a serving spoon, pointing it at Harry. Obviously, he was just warming up his tirade, "Let's also forget that Amelia is a pureblood as well." Savagely digging into the porridge he snapped, "Morons." Mixing strawberries and the rest of the peaches into his gruel, he stomped back to the table.
Alice Granger sat back in her chair, her eyes unfocused. With a hint of mirth, Steven muttered, "Uh-oh, here it comes. Everyone run."
Alice's eyes focused again, only to narrow at her chuckling husband. "Do you prefer the couch, husband mine?"
"No dear."
"That's what I thought."
Smiling at the playful banter, Harry asked, "What's on your mind, Mum?"
Alice smiled brightly at Harry's calling her mum. They'd had a long talk when she'd pulled him into his study before politely telling Hermione, "Why don't you find somewhere else to be, Pumpkin. I need to have a talk with your husband."
As she settled on the couch, he threw another log on the fire. Stoking it to a crackling blaze, he joined her. "How can I help you, Mrs Granger?"
Absently, she took his hand, running her fingers over the small scars on the back. "How did you get these?" she asked in delay while she stoked the fires of her courage.
Surprised at the question, Harry replied without engaging the usual filter he imposed on his thoughts. "Gardening for Aunt Petunia. She likes roses but hates weeds, so I had to crawl into the bushes to pull the weeds in the middle."
Closing her eyes to hide away her upset, Alice murmured, "I assume she never treated your cuts or wounds in any way?"
Harry's shrug told her volumes. After a moment of quiet where she continued to hold his hand, she told him, "I've been thinking about this for a while now; ever since you and Hermione told us the truth about everything." She trailed off as she stared out the window, marshalling her courage.
"I am not your mother, nor will I ever be. From what Sirius and Remus have told me, Lily Potter was an extraordinary woman. People like that can never be replaced, only remembered. You and I've joked about it, but I would like for you to call me Mum, if you're comfortable with it that is." With a hint of impish humour, she added, "I am your mother in law after all."
Choked up, Harry croaked, "I'd like that. I'd like that very much." A second later, she took him in her arms. It was the first real hug from a mother he'd ever experienced. Oh, he'd had numerous hugs from Molly Weasley, but in the back of his mind, he knew that the redheaded matron was not his mother.
That nagging thought was absent as he fell into Alice Granger's embrace.
Harry returned to the present when Alice observed, "I was thinking that Sirius is a not only a pureblood, but the head of an Ancient and Noble house. I think that he could lead a counter in the press about this nonsense," she waved her hand at the ashes of the paper as they crumbled in the fireplace.
"I'm also a well-known blood traitor."
Steven thoughtfully rubbed his chin as he thought aloud, "I defer to your knowledge in the wizarding world Sirius, but the vast majority of people are ignorant about most of what they read in the paper. No matter what you say, you'll never convince those pureblood elitist twits," he gestured toward the fireplace and the burnt paper. "But you'll sway the masses who are ignorant. You're a well-known, popular figure. With your exoneration and wrongful imprisonment, most will see you as a sympathetic figure. It's worth considering."
His sober expression indicated Padfoot seriously considering the idea. Eventually, he hedged, "I'll do an interview. We'll go from there."
Tossing his napkin on the table, he murmured, "They'll want to talk about Midnight the entire time, I expect." Rising from the chair, eh made his way out before calling over his shoulder, "Moony, get a hold of that Shanahan chap you know at the Prophet to set things up, will you?"
When Sirius had cleared the doorway and was no longer in sight, Alice sighed as she asked, "Is he always so contrary?"
"Yes," Remus answered as he forked some eggs.
"AM NOT!" the voice of Padfoot the Invincible shouted from the hallway.
The breakfast room broke into laughter as the Earl of Blackmoor stomped to the pool for his morning physical therapy laps.
.oOo.
Harry and Hermione were in the practice room with a scattering of junk littering the floor. Hermione watched her husband calm himself, take a deep breath and close his eyes. After a moment of meditation, he lifted his wand as he opened his eyes. With a deft motion of his wand, he mass transfigured the contents of the room into saw blades. Another motion caused the blades to hover in the air as they rotated at high speed.
The Smartest Witch of the Age narrowed her eyes before conjuring seven mannequins, which immediately began to run about the room in random patterns.
Taking the hint, Harry cast a last spell that evenly divided the transfigured blades into groups, which then attacked the dummies.
When there was naught but sawdust and chunks of wood lying about, he ended the charm before casting the Finishing spell, allowing the saw blades to resume their original form.
Harry frowned, "That didn't go as I expected."
Nodding, Hermione asked the leading question, "Why?"
"Too many spells. I used three instead of just the one mass transfiguration and animating spell we read about yesterday."
"Why?" she repeated.
Shrugging, he replied, "I'm not too confident in it yet."
Nodding her understanding, Hermione smiled at an idea that popped into her head. "No sex until you cast it, then." He could pull off any spell when under pressure and they both knew it.
He turned to her with playful horror on his features. Bowing in a pseudo Quasimodo fashion, he whimpered, "Yes Mistress."
When she laughed, he turned back to the room, took a deep breath and centred himself before casting.
The various items leapt into the air, morphing into spinning saw blades as they moved. After, Hermione repeated her conjuration of mannequins, the blades automatically separated into groups before attacking their targets.
With a light-heartedly smug smile, he asked, "Good enough?"
An indecisive expression on her face, she wagged her head in a 'so-so' manner. "I don't know…"
Taking her in his arms, he kissed her deeply. After a good twenty seconds, he pulled back. "You were saying?"
With a dazed expression, she asked, "I don't know. What was I saying?"
"That you love me desperately and lust after my body."
Nodding, she pulled him close before kissing him with as much enthusiasm as he displayed before.
When she pulled back, he asked, "What were we doing?"
Without answering him, she turned toward the door. Pulling him along, she told him, "We were heading to our room. Quickly."
.oOo.
As they were eating lunch, Dobby popped in holding a silver salver with a letter on it. "This arrived for you, Master Harry."
Grumbling, Harry muttered, "Stop calling me Master, Dobby." Knowing his words were wasted, he grabbed the letter. "It's from the Headmaster," he announced, reading the return sender.
Breaking the seal, he unfolded the parchment. "He got a reply from that Duvail character and offers an appointment tomorrow to discuss the findings."
Sirius frowned, "What time?"
"Two."
"I'll be there," Harry's godfather replied before digging into his lunch.
Hermione turned to her parents, "Would you like to come with us to see the castle?"
Surprised, Steven asked, "Can we? I thought there were spells that kept us non-magical people out."
"There are, but we'll go in via the Floo, which bypasses all those wards."
Nodding, Steven turned to Alice. When she nodded, he told his daughter, "That would be great. We'd love to go."
The next day, the Family tromped to the entry hall fireplace of Rowan Hill. Sirius led the procession, calling out "Hogwarts, Transfiguration Office!"
Eventually, the entire Family was through the fireplace, standing in Minerva's common room. Minerva blinked at Steven and Alice's presence, but said nothing. With a curt, "Well, come on then," she led the mob to the Headmaster's office.
Eventually, they made their way to the oversized oval office. They found Dumbledore behind his desk chatting with an older man. Rising, the Headmaster greeted the visitors, "Welcome back all. Mr and Mrs Granger I presume?" he asked the non-magical parents.
When they nodded, he smiled warmly, "I'm very pleased to meet you. Your daughter is a credit to the both of you. A wonderful young woman, if I dare say."
"Thank you, Headmaster," Alice replied in a slightly confused tone.
Nodding to the rest, Dumbledore half turned to the older wizard in the room, "Everyone, this is M. Christian Duvail, my friend who is an expert in the art of Necromancy."
The old man had long greasy iron-grey hair. His yellow eyes were clouded, as if with cataracts and he stank. He did not offer his dirty long nailed hands in greeting. As Dumbledore introduced the group to the Necromancer, the Frenchman's disturbing gaze seemed to linger on Harry.
When they were all seated, Duvail cut to the chase, "I have viewed the memory provided by Albus. We have discussed many of the incidents of note regarding your Enemy and I have drawn a few conclusions."
Just like Dumbledore, the man seemed to have an affectation for the dramatic. He paused, regarding each of the visitors with a 'most serious expression', obviously attempting to increase the tension in the room.
When Sirius rolled his eyes and asked, "And?" the Necromancer got to the point.
"There are many rituals which can be undertaken to slow the aging process. The blackest of arts can even cause a cessation of aging, but the costs are very high indeed. Given the state of your Enemy prior to his banishment in nineteen eighty one and his appearance today, I believe I can draw some tentative conclusions.
"First, it is most likely that he did undergo the Rite of Ascension, which is the culminating ceremony in a series of magiks. The Rite of Ascension process stops aging altogether," forestalling all questions, he held up his hand. "Do not ask how it is accomplished for it is a most vile process."
Sighing, he extended a long finger as if counting, "Rite of Ascension, the Immersion of Hercules for strength," another finger ticked off, "The Eye of Horus for 'vision', again, do not ask."
Over the next few minutes, he discussed a series of rituals and procedures that he deduced Voldemort had undergone. "In the end, his body before banishment barely resembled his birth form. As such, that is why, I believe, he did not perish that fateful night," he gestured to Harry.
"The Killing curse is a most strange bit of magic. It forces the soul to depart this plane of existence. Even so, once the soul has vacated its human form, it cannot return. We have no way of knowing, but I believe that the reflected Killing curse cast by your Enemy that night was not at full potency. It is reasonable to assume that there was a significant energy loss due to the reflection of the spell. The weakened spell forced the soul from your Enemy's reinforced body, but did not have enough power to overcome the augmentations he had performed on his body and, therefore, to force the soul of your enemy from this plane of existence. Therefore, his soul resided in this plane of existence as a spectre of sorts."
Eyes were wide as the group contemplated this revelation. Eventually, Hermione concluded, "Then, when he is resurrected, he can be killed."
Nodding, Duvail held up a dirty finger, Turning his rheumy gaze on The Smartest Witch of the Age, he leered, "It will be most difficult, though. I have no doubt he has already arranged for a series of rituals so that he can regain his lost strength."
"How can he restore himself to a body?" Remus asked. "What will he need?"
"Blood of an enemy is a most common ingredient. The homunculus that he has taken as a transitory form is very flexible. I know of three rites he can undergo for restoration based on this form."
Harry groaned. They thought they'd set a trap at the graveyard for Little Hangleton by corralling the nascent Dark Lord into their finely woven kill sack. Now, they find out that Riddle had more options.
With a roll of parchment on a conjured lap desk, Remus asked, "Would you please describe the other methods? We'll need to prepare."
.oOo.
"So this is the infamous Potions classroom," Alice remarked as they stood outside the door. The foursome dodged the stream of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff fifth years that were letting out just then. "I loved chemistry in secondary school." Raising her eyebrows, she nodded to the doorway, "May we?"
"I don't see why not," Hermione answered.
Harry and Hermione were five steps in the doorway when Steven began laughing. "Cauldrons? Really? Where's the eye of newt?"
With a half-smile, Hermione replied, "On that shelf."
Steven followed his daughter's indication to its destination. His complexion paled a bit when he noticed some of the more revolting items that were preserved alongside the eye of newt.
"Yuck."
"Indeed sir. Many of our ingredients leave a bit to be desired in their appearance, but their qualities…well, are incredible."
The family turned to see a rotund man with a walrus moustache standing behind them. When the quickly identified Professor Slughorn noticed Harry, his beady eyes lit up like a cracker.
"My Lord!"
"Aw, fong," Harry muttered.
"How are you, Professor?" Hermione greeted.
In an amusing battle between manners and greed, Slughorn's eyes focused on Harry, then Hermione, back to Harry before finally settling on The Smartest Witch of the Age. "Miss Granger, it's very good to see you and Lord Harry well. When you departed school after winter break, I feared the worst."
Rolling his eyes, Harry supressed a groan. Steven couldn't help himself, his mischievous nature had been curbed while living with the two living Marauders. In a prank war, he was significantly under gunned against Padfoot and Moony. With affected suspense, the dentist asked, "And what would the worst have been, sir?"
"Why, that they had withdrawn from school, sir," Slughorn replied as if the answer was as obvious as the day was long.
"We did withdraw," Harry grated.
"Oh." Frowning, the Potion professor looked at the teens as if trying to resolve their presence in his classroom while they were no longer students after all.
"We had other business in the castle today, so Harry and Hermione were kind enough to give us a tour," Alice explained.
"Of course. Such wonderful persons," Slughorn smarmed. "I've no doubt they've given you the best of tours, Minerva and Filius sing their praises. Alas, I only had the privilege of teaching them for a month or so."
Resisting the urge to check his arse for love bites, Harry took Hermione's hand, "Good to see you, sir. We must be off to the Quidditch Pitch. Mr Granger is anxious to see the school pitch after seeing Nelson Field."
"Oh, let me accompany you. I'm well acquainted with many professional…"
"That's unnecessary, sir. Thank you very much," the last was shouted as Harry had pulled Hermione out the door and halfway up the stairs in his rush to escape.
Once out the doors of the castle, the little family tucked up against the chilly wind. "What was his name?" Alice asked. "Collins?"
Hermione chuckled at the Austen allusion. "Close. Slughorn."
"Who in the world names these people?" Steven groused.
.oOo.
"Most of these ingredients can be found anywhere," Sirius whinged as he glared at the list Remus had transcribed from the creepy Necromancer. He, Remus and Minerva had gathered in her office while Harry and Hermione gave Steven and Alice their tour.
"And for the rarer ingredients, I'm sure Severus has a private supplier available who will sell the necessary, no questions asked," grumbled Remus.
"If the price is right," finished Minerva.
"True," Remus agreed before sipping his tea.
"The only truly unique need for any of these rituals is the bone of the father, which we've disposed of, warded the area and routinely check to see of the area has been disturbed. The rest is just very rare and expensive." Remus was very annoyed. He'd hoped that the extremely disturbing Necromancer would have concrete leads upon which they could act. Instead, they found themselves amongst swirling vapour once again, grasping at metaphorical ghosts.
"Dammit! We don't have enough people to track down all these leads," Sirius growled as he waved a hand at the list. "We don't have enough time…"
All three were at war with themselves. They'd known that Voldemort was going to attempt to reconstitute himself sooner rather than later. They'd known it for a while, yet hadn't been able to accomplish much to prevent the resurrection. Removing the mortal remains of Tom Riddle Sr. and his parents had been the extent of the preventative measures available to the Family, yet they were still very frustrated with themselves.
"We don't have enough time," Sirius mused to himself as he sat back in his chair. With a wide smile, he barked his signature laugh while slapping Remus on the shoulder.
The devious expression on Sirius' face caused Remus to groan. With a hint of trepidation, Minerva asked, "What?"
"Does Longtooth still have that Time Turner?"
.oOo.
"You want to do what?" Hermione asked, her tone and expression accurately portraying her disbelief.
Rolling his eyes, Sirius repeated himself. "I want to use the Time Turner to start tracking down some of these wacko ingredients," Sirius waved the parchment in the air as he did so. "If we can narrow down what Snape and Voldemort are, or are not going to do, we might be able to funnel them to where we want them." The Family had returned to Rowan Hill and had been arguing about Sirius' idea for the previous thirty minutes. All except Harry had voiced an opinion. Until now.
"So we can kill him," Harry finished. The grim expression on The Boy-Who-Lived coupled with his soft tone caused Hermione to take Padfoot a bit more seriously.
"Padfoot," Harry broke in, "It's a good idea…"
"But?" Sirius asked.
"But it shouldn't be you who does it."
Sirius Black was many things, but humble, he wasn't. "And why not?" Padfoot challenged with more than a hint of anger.
"Because you don't have the knowledge or ability to run down the leads. Plus, you don't have the freedom to move anonymously in the circles we're talking about. Everyone knows Sirius Black, Lord Blackmoor. Just one Ending spell, and your Glamour would be dispelled. Then, the jig is up."
Narrowing his eyes, Sirius spat, "You're talking about sending Remus and Dora, aren't you?"
Harry's only reply was a solemn nod.
The whole Family had gathered for the discussion and as one, they leaned back in their chairs contemplating the proposition. Steven spoke up first.
"It's a good idea. They work well together, both can defend themselves adequately, Dora's metamorphing-whatsit will hone the edge that Remus' 'dark creature' status and his knowledge bring." Turning to the couple in question, the former Staff Sergeant of the British Army asked, "Are you up for it?"
With a smirk, Dora replied, "Remus is always up for it."
Rolled eyes from Minerva, Alice and, surprisingly, Sirius punctuated the snorts from Harry and Hermione. Steven just smiled at Remus' blush.
Clearing his throat, Remus answered, "I believe we can pull it off." The group sat down to plan the effort. In scope, the effort would have been executed by over one hundred Aurors in real time. In the end, they group calculated Remus and Dora would need at least ten full days to sweep Western Europe for the leads they were pursuing.
"I'll head to Gringotts," Sirius announced as he stood. Glancing at Alice, who was computing costs for the effort, he asked, "How much?"
Chewing on the end of the quill, Alice replied, "Five thousand Pounds, same in Francs, but better make it ten thousand Deutschmarks. They're going to be in Bavaria and Berlin for quite a while."
Remus added, "One hundred and fifty thousand Galleons for purchases," without looking up from his tabulations. Dora, Harry, Minerva, Hermione and Steven were going over a series of maps of Western Europe correlating places and persons to be investigate.
Dora told the group a few minutes after Sirius left, "We'll Turn three times a day. That'll stretch the search over four real-time days." Glaring at the witches and wizards assembled, "None of you clowns had better send us a Communication charm. I'd end up getting the same message three times daily and not know when the bloody hell I should be getting it. That would really make me angry"
With mock seriousness, Harry added, "And we don't want to make you angry."
.oOo.
Sirius had almost forgotten about his appointment with the reporter from the Daily Prophet. At half one on Saturday afternoon, Remus casually cast a Stinging hex at his oldest friend.
Harry snickered. Remus hadn't even looked up from the book he was reading, yet still nailed Padfoot right between the eyes.
"Bloody hell, Moony! What was that for?" Sirius shouted as he leapt to his feet. Padfoot's hands seemed undecided. One was vigorously rubbing the welt on his forehead, while the other groped in his pockets for his wand.
"You're about to miss the appointment that you insisted I make for you with Shanahan." Remus was placid as he turned the page of his book.
"I insisted," Sirius repeated as he scowled at Alice.
"Yes. You. Now get a move on you lazy lout."
"I am not a…"
"Yes you are. Move."
Grumbling, Sirius turned from the room, casting the countercharm on his swelling forehead.
When the fireplace's roar subsided, Alice began to chuckle. "I swear, if I didn't know better, I'd think you two were married."
Finally, Remus looked up from his book. "Alice, I'm a very open minded man. I'd like to think that I have a level of tolerance and acceptance for those of homosexual orientation, but the mere thought of Padfoot like that…" Remus' 'mature, reasoned voice' was spoiled when he visibly shivered.
"Aw, is my poor Wolfie grossed out?" Tonks teased as she slipped into her lover's lap.
Scrunching his face up like a five year old, Remus protested, "It's Padfoot!"
"I'm sure that some woman will find him attractive. Eventually," Hermione teased.
The joviality faded from Remus' face as he traded a look with Steven.
"What?" Harry asked.
"Hmm?" Remus asked, feigning ignorance.
Annoyed, Harry shook his finger at his father's friend, "None of that, Moony my man. What's with that look?"
Steven smoothly intercepted his son in law, "Remus and I are just keeping tabs on Sirius. He hasn't shown much inclination to get into the dating scene."
"Before Azkaban, Sirius was something of a ladies' man," Remus explained.
"You're both daft," the incredulous Harry announced. "For him, all that time in prison was time where his life was on hold. I'm sure for him, my parents were killed less than a year ago. On top of it, he spent a dozen years embracing his inner Dementor. His world exploded, then imploded before it crumbled and you want him to go on a date?"
The look Steven and Remus exchanged was more sheepish than their previous look. "When you put it that way…" Remus admitted.
Rolling his eyes, Harry grumbled, "How else is there to put it?" before he resumed his study.
.oOo.
It was somewhat amusing for Harry to watch Minerva fuss over Remus and Dora as they prepared to set off. The usually stoic professor façade had given way to the concerned parent who lived in the Highland woman's heart. Harry caught Hermione watching the fussing with an amused smile on her face. The smile became a bark of laughter when Minerva cast a quick spell to repack the trunk full of clothes.
Sirius stepped in to avert bloodshed when he saw Minerva's scowl. "Come on, Min. Let 'em be. Remus is a big boy and Dora will keep him mostly out of trouble."
With a bright eye, Minerva nodded. Quick as a snake, she took the Lycanthrope and Metamorph's hands in her own. "I've lost too many. Come back to us," she pled in an undertone.
All smiles faded. With as much seriousness as she could muster, Dora told the eldest of their Family, "We'll come home to you. To all of you," she added as she looked around the room to the gathered.
Her uncharacteristic seriousness was an indication that young Dora Tonks knew the full extent of her mission. She and her beloved were actively walking into the cobra's nest. While not actively courting an encounter with the nascent Lord Voldemort, an encounter with the Dark Lord was very possible. Not many survived such a meeting.
Alice stood forward, taking Dora in her arms. "We'll pray for your safety," Alice promised. It still surprised Harry that Alice and Steven were such devout Catholics. Religion was nearly unheard of in the Magical world and to be Catholic in England was to be in a distinct minority. Nonetheless, she and Steven still attended Mass every Sunday in their parish back in Kent. Instead of jumping in Steven's rebuilt Aston Martin to head the four kilometres to St Antony's, though, they were side along Apparated by their children to the unused lane behind the church.
Steven shook Remus' hand firmly. The two men had become fast friends in a way far different than any of the other men. Both were warriors. Both were scholars who fought because of a sense of duty, not out of choice.
Remus was engulfed in an embrace by Sirius, which quickly became emotional for all present. The last time Padfoot and Moony had been separated for any length of time Sirius had been incarcerated. "Take care, brother," Sirius whispered in Moony's ear. Remus could only nod in return.
Sirius stood in front of Dora, evaluating her. When she began to fidget, Padfoot placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, looked her in the eye before telling her, "I love you Dora. Take care of yourself and Remus. I need you to come home."
Touched, Dora could only nod. Moving toward the door, Dora and Remus were engulfed in silent hugs from the time traveling teens. No words came to any of the four, only sentiment that was adequately conveyed through their loving embraces. With a last nod to the Family, Remus took Dora's hand and led her to the front hall. All held their breath until the crack-crack of their Apparition caused Alice to jump.
None moved. Dora and Remus were venturing into places that made Knockturn Alley seem like Hyde Park on a sunny afternoon. They would have attempts on their lives just for walking through the door; much less for the questions they needed answering. Thieves, murderers, rapists and sadists were the commonplace denizens of the dens of iniquity. Those were the cheerful types they expected to encounter on this investigation. Nascent dark lords, lesser demons, vampires and hags were the less jolly beings they expected to meet.
Harry and Hermione headed to bed. Minerva and Sirius had the first shift to be on call. The Family had discussed being available to respond to an emergency summons from either of their advance team, so they had paired up accordingly. Harry and Hermione had doses of a light sleeping draught on their nightstands to help them rest. They took over from Sirius and Minerva at six PM and were on watch until midnight. The pairs were switching off every six hours while Remus and Dora were gone. It would prove to be a long four days.
.oOo.
Four hours of sleep later, Harry and his wife stumbled into the study. At the silent question from his godson, Sirius shook his head. "Nothing verbal." Hermione was moving to the far side of the room, her wand out and trained on three small crates. "Those arrived with your portkeys around five," Sirius explained. Their plan had included Remus and Dora purchasing as much of the ingredients as they could from the list provided by the Necromancer. These crates were their first catch of the day. Harry moved a few feet behind his wife who was casting every detection spell of which she'd learned in their very extensive training.
Maliciously enchanted objects had been a favourite of Emperor Voldemort. He ordered his Death Eaters to scatter items of nightmare across the lands that were ruled under the black flag adorned with skull and snake. The nearest the Potters could tell was that Voldemort did it for his own private amusement. Desiccation curses, Soulfire, which consumed the person from the inside out and Detonation curses were among his favourite party favours. This proliferation of Voldemort's deadly toys spurred Harry and Hermione's extensive knowledge regarding the detection and destruction of dark objects.
Five minutes later, Hermione nodded to herself, satisfied that the crates were what they purported to be. Harry moved forward to open the first crate with as much care as he could muster. After a minute he pulled the lid off before tossing it to the side. One glance inside was all it took. Immediately, he turned away to vomit.
Hermione's curiosity overrode her good sense. She too peeked in the crate, only to turn away in revulsion and horror.
Standing back, Sirius and Minerva had nearly fearful expressions. "Do I want to know?" Sirius asked.
"Dead infants preserved in some greenish liquid. Each child was flayed alive," came Hermione's whispered reply.
Swallowing heavily, Sirius attempted to quip, "I'm perfectly Ok leaving the other crates unopened." Minerva shakily nodded her agreement.
Wiping his mouth, Harry Vanished the sick on the floor, performed an Air Freshening charm followed by a Mouth Freshening charm. "As am I. Go ahead, get some sleep. We'll call if anything happens."
.oOo.
One more crate arrived at eleven PM. No one opened it.
.oOo.
Emotionally and physically wiped out, Harry conjured a bed in the corner of the study before placing a Silencing ward around it. The newly awakened Sirius and Minerva called for Dobby to provide tea as the Potters transfigured their jeans and t-shirts into pyjamas. Wordlessly, the young couple fell into bed before unconsciously reaching for each other. It was a long time before they fell asleep in each other's arms.
.oOo.
At three AM, a small barrel smelling suspiciously of petrol arrived. Minerva conjured a large steel drum into which she Levitated the new arrival. Sirius sealed the drum; their unspoken agreement never to look in any of the arriving containers was a given fact. No words needed to be said.
.oOo.
At nine in the morning the next day, Hermione abandoned all pretext of reading the book that had lain in her lap unnoticed for the previous two hours. The most recent crate had come around sunrise, a note attached to the top.
All,
Shopping list progressing. Finished our first three days and have about a quarter of the necessary. No word regarding the old friends we're so anxious to meet up with but rumour is rife. One day they're reported to be in Berlin, the next day Paris and the day after that, Calais.
Funds holding out well, but we're exhausted. Will take a fourth day to rest. All our love,
Moony and Stripes
"He's wounded," Sirius declared after handing the note to Harry.
Quickly reading the note as Hermione leaned over her husband's shoulder to see the missive, Harry asked, "This 'exhausted' bit?"
"Yeah. If she were hurt, they'd be 'beat'. If they were unhurt, there'd be no mention of tiredness."
As Minerva read the note, Hermione added, "And the word about Voldemort is that he's moving west. We may be too late."
.oOo.
Deep under Rowan Hill, there were storage rooms. Far beneath the massive wine cellar, there were vast storage rooms, which were set up to be cold boxes for meat. Hooks, metal shelves and the like were the very obvious giveaway.
Here, deep underground, Harry began ferrying their newly acquired dark arts ingredients. Hermione had been all for destroying everything as it arrived. Of all people, Minerva had cautioned prudence. "I cannot fathom a legitimate need for any of the foul things to be acquired, but there may come a time when we may need this cache."
Now that the purchases were rolling in and they all saw exactly what they were purchasing, Minerva had changed her tune. "Destroy it all," she had snarled.
With regretful eyes, Harry had shaken his head, "Thirty days, we agreed. We'll hold it for that period of time before it all goes to the bottom of the Atlantic."
.oOo.
Minerva and Sirius followed Harry's example by conjuring beds for themselves in the study. No one wanted to leave. Dobby provided them with snacks, twice daily cold collations along with the standard English breakfast. The tension was palpable in the room as the six remaining members of the Family waited for deliveries and news. Steven and Alice were spending over eighteen hours a day in the room with the on duty couple. For the most part, things were quiet. No news was good news.
Alastor had been kept in the dark about the entire operation. Minerva had explained that her old friend's Auror oaths would compel him to act in an official capacity with all the dark arts activity in which they were engaging. To relieve him of a sticky situation, they left him out the planning and execution altogether with a cryptically worded message that his interests would best be served by staying away from the Welsh estate for the next week.
Harry and Steven played an on again, off again game of Cribbage, but neither man could muster much enthusiasm. When Steven narrowly beat Harry by four pegs, both of them were relieved they could forsake the façade of the game.
More crates continued to arrive. Harry kept sending them to the storage room.
Day two ended with a note similar to the one from the first day.
All,
More progress today. Over halfway home now with a few bargains to boot. Stripes had a wonderful encounter with an old lady that left her in stitches, I'm sure she'll tell you about it when we get home. We're beat, so heading to bed. Absolutely no word today about our old friends; bit distressing really.
Hope all is well at home and we'll see you on time or maybe even be home a bit early.
All our love,
Moony and Stripes
"Dora's hurt, isn't she?" Harry asked.
"Yeah, looks like something tore her up. Based on the 'old lady' comment, it was either a hag or a harpy. Neither are a barrel of laughs." Sirius sat heavily, the guilt of his young cousin's injury weighing on him.
Holding her head in her hands, Hermione muttered, "If it were really bad, he'd bring her home."
They all hoped The Smartest Witch of the Age was right.
.oOo.
More disgusting parcels arrived on day three. No longer able to stomach having the unknown materials in his home, Harry began systematically to magically translocate the crates, barrels and parcels as far from his home as he could. His best estimation was five thousand miles to the southwest; right dead centre in the Atlantic Ocean.
Returning to the study, he sat heavily next to his wife. Hermione gave him a sad smile, "You couldn't stand it anymore?"
Shaking his head, he wrapped his arm around his wife.
"Ocean?"
"Yeah."
Leaning on his shoulder, Hermione closed her eyes. "Good."
.oOo.
Day four began with a whimper. No deliveries arrived until four in the afternoon. A small box arrived with a note attached to the top.
Gather the family. We'll be home shortly.
Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Very soon Moony and the newly named Stripes would be home where they would be safe. Scrubbing his face with his hands, Harry didn't realize how tense he'd become over the previous days.
As the tension bled out of him, he moved to stand behind his wife. Gentle at first, he began to massage her shoulders and upper back. Increasing pressure until Hermione groaned, Harry began to cajole the tension from her body.
Looking about the room he saw Alice give Steven a smile in response to one of the many quirky jokes with which he was constantly teasing her. Minerva was leaning back in her chair, her eyes closed and a small smile playing at the ends of her mouth.
"Harry, look at this," Sirius called, his voice strangely strained. The Boy-Who-Lived had moved to a bench, leaning on his knees. Looking up at his godfather, Harry cocked an eyebrow in reply.
Sighing heavily, Sirius turned around the evening edition of the paper. Below the fold on the front page was a small article. Albus Dumbledore Missing?
Now frowning, Harry asked, "What's it say?"
Returning to the article, Sirius read snippets aloud as the rest of the room paid attention. "Last seen two days ago in his office…discovered missing after failing to attend the weekly staff meeting…his office showed signs of struggle…Deputy Head McGonagall unavailable for comment while on holiday."
The tension that had dissipated when Remus' note arrived, reappeared in full force. All were forcibly reminded of Dumbledore's comment to Harry when they met a few weeks before, "You must be vigilant, Harry. You and I are his prime targets. He will come for us first."
The tension became oppressive as Harry stood before moving to the window. Staring out the window into the grey, rain filled sky, The Boy-Who-Lived was quiet. The Smartest Witch of the Age had arrived at the same conclusion as the rest, all were too afraid to say it aloud, though. Needing his familiar presence, she embraced Harry from behind, laying her head on his back.
"They've got the Headmaster, don't they?" Alice asked in an undertone.
"Most likely," Hermione replied.
"Can we save him?" her mother persisted.
Steven answered for his daughter, "Most likely not."
The pall resettled as the occupants waited for Remus and Dora.
"Why didn't you have another vision?" Sirius asked his godson.
Shaking his head, Harry replied, "Don't know. I've been thinking about that and can't figure out what happened. Nothing's changed since the last time."
"Except Voldemort," Hermione corrected. Moving to a chair, the tired witch sat heavily. Running her fingers through her thick locks, the twenty eight year old going on fifteen year old girl slipped into her 'bossy voice', "We believe the connection between Harry and Voldemort is due to the curse that failed. Therefore, the connection was initiated, maintained and centred on Voldemort. Symptomatically, the connection changed over time. First year, there was always pain when Voldemort was near."
"But that could also be caused by his vicious Legilimancy technique."
"True. Second year doesn't count. The diary was some weird dark arts Avatar that wasn't really Tom Riddle, but a projection of him in the same way a magical portrait is a projection of a person. Fourth year he came back, but the connection changed when he took your blood in the resurrection ceremony."
"He could touch me without pain. Unlike first year." Mentally and emotionally exhausted, Harry leaned his head against the glass of the window, closing his eyes in a vain attempt to deny the truth.
Nodding, Hermione sighed. She hadn't been this tired since…well a long time. "Yes, the connection changed alongside gaining immunity to your mother's protection that Voldemort acquired through the blood based resurrection ceremony. However, said ceremony intensified the link between the two of you. This new connection allowed your insight to his emotions along with more frequent visions during fifth year."
"Which is the state I was in during the last vision."
"But something has now changed the connection again," Hermione concluded, reluctant to state her conclusion aloud.
Minerva did it for her. "Voldemort has been resurrected, using Albus' blood instead of Harry's."
Unable to respond, Hermione nodded.
"But that happened afterwards, what about the 'pre' part? Shouldn't Harry have seen that?" Steven asked.
In all seriousness, Sirius replied for the witches and wizards, "Magic is strange."
Taking the answer for what Padfoot meant, Steven nodded.
Harry continued to stare out the window. Hermione leaned back in the chair, eyes closed in resignation. Sirius looked at the paper, unable to focus long enough to read. Minerva sat stiffly in her chair, staring into the fire. Alice absently continued her embroidery project while Steven played with his Rubik's cube.
They waited.
An eternal thirty minutes later, Remus and Dora arrived via portkey before collapsing.
.oOo.
"He's coming around, Andi,"
Andromeda moved to Remus' side, casting diagnostic spells the entire time. Two hours ago, Harry had Apparated into her lounge, shouted at her to grab her Healer bag before Apparating her to Rowan Hill.
Sirius and Steven had carried Dora and Remus to the conjured beds in the room while Alice and Minerva began to inspect the inert couple for wounds. Remus' legs were badly bruised and he had a cut that ran the length of his right arm. Dora had a very odd mark on her upper abdomen. It wasn't quite a scar, nor was it a wound.
When Andromeda arrived with a windswept Harry, she set to work. Minerva, Alice and Hermione fetched potions and provided general nursing duties. Steven and the other men alternated running errands with watching the proceedings.
It was evident quickly, that Remus had been badly beaten at one point. His legs had been smashed to splinters and his arm nearly severed. "He shows signs of healing, but sporadic, battlefield type first aid," Andromeda had commented as she vanished the bones in Moony's legs. As she poured Skele-Gro into his mouth while casting the Swallowing charm, she heard Sirius whisper, "You stupid bastard, you were supposed to come home if it got bad."
The cut was superficial. Handing a clean bandage along with a pot of salve to Alice, the Casualty Healer turned to her daughter.
When Andromeda shuddered before taking a deep, cleansing breath, it was obvious to all that the woman was forcibly shoving her personal feelings aside so as to better treat her daughter.
The first two diagnostic spells had negative results, causing Andi to frown in puzzlement. "Take a look at this," Alice beckoned. Lifting Dora's shirt, she exposed the odd mark.
"Oh my God."
A quick diagnostic confirmed Andi's guess. Diving for her bag of potions, she snarled, "Hag."
Minerva gasped while Sirius paled. Alice turned to her daughter for an explanation. "Hags eat liver. The fresher the better," Hermione elaborated with distaste.
"So…"
"Yes," Andi spat while she forced a series of potions down her daughter's throat. "She most likely used her metamorph abilities to help recover from the attack. Right now, she has sixty two percent of a functioning liver."
Potion after potion went down the young woman's throat. As the tears dripped down Minerva's face, Dora consumed a Blood Replenishing potion. When Alice succumbed to tears for her friend while wrapped in her husband's numb arms, Andi force-fed another Organ Growth potion into her daughter. As Hermione and Harry watched, helpless in their terror, another Blood Chemistry Stabilization potion was administered. When Sirius collapsed in a puddle of his own tears for his brother and cousin who were both so much more, Andi finished the last spell - Suspensor Vitalis.
When the exhausted Healer sank to the couch next to Minerva, the old Transfiguration professor wordlessly wrapped Andromeda in an embrace. Then the blonde mother let herself feel. And, unfortunately, think about what had transpired.
Her daughter, the light of her life was very near death alongside the man with whom her daughter was desperately in love. First came the shaking. Andromeda trembled like a four year old child during a particularly loud thunderstorm. Eyes wide, the witch was incapable of dodging the freight train of emotion that was barrelling down on her.
Then the screams started. Wordless shouts of fury and fear mingled with wails for her daughter and son in all but blood. That storm passed quickly.
Still Minerva held on to the blonde mother.
Finally, the sobs came and Andi joined the rest of the room in their cries of fear and fury for the most unique members of the family: Moony and Stripes.
Ten minutes later, Remus began to stir.
"Dora…" he moaned.
Sirius took his best friend's hand while Andromeda cast a series of diagnostic spells. "She's right here, Moony. Andi's taking care of her and she'll be fine. Just fine."
His eyes fluttering, Remus asked, "What happened?"
"You were badly beaten Remus. I've Vanished the bones in your legs and pelvis while I regrow them with Skele-Gro. We've some potion work ahead of us to fix the nerve damage in your arm, but in the end, I'm confident that everything will be just fine." Andromeda's voice was crisp and business like while a warmth permeated her tone that was usually not present when speaking to patients.
"Dora?"
The grin on Andromeda's face faltered for a moment, telling Remus all he needed to know. "Will she be well? Eventually?"
"Eventually, she will be well."
"I'm so sorry. I was haggling with the dealer and had my back turned for a minute. The only warning was Dora's grunt. By the time I'd turned, she'd already killed the hag. She was a bit pale, but waved me off, telling me she was fine. I didn't get the whole truth out of her until about an hour before we returned."
Grasping Andromeda's arm, Moony pleaded, "You've got to believe me. If I'd known she was so badly hurt, we'd have come back immediately."
Patting his arm, a few tears gathering in the corner of her eyes, Andromeda comforted the man who would soon enough be her son in law, "I believe you Remus. I never doubted at all. Now, I'm going to give you a Sleeping Draught. You need your sleep. We're all here to watch over the two of you."
For the first time, Moony scanned the room, taking in the anxious faces of his Family. With his little half smile, he wordlessly reassured them just as their presence reassured him in his turn.
Focusing on Harry, Remus' face became grave, "They have Albus."
Grim, Harry nodded his understanding. "We know. Rest now. We'll talk more later."
.oOo.
"I must return to Hogwarts. I'm needed." Minerva rose, only to be embraced by Hermione. The Smartest Witch of the Age clung to the stately witch for a long moment, reassuring herself that up truly was up and down was down. At this point, with Albus Dumbledore most likely dead as a sacrifice in Voldemort's resurrection ceremony, Hermione was looking for all the emotional anchors she could find.
"It will be well, my wee bairn," Minerva finished with her tongue firmly in her cheek.
Pulling back, Hermione cocked an eyebrow, "Bairn?"
A small smile tugged at the corner of Minerva's mouth, "To me, lass, you'll always be a bairn." A quick caress of Hermione's face preceded the departure of the new Headmistress of Hogwarts.
"Andi," Alice asked, "Should we contact Ted for you?" Andi was on the night shift at the hospital, which accounted for her presence at the house when Harry blew through the wards as if they were so much tissue paper.
The distraught healer's gaze flickered from her daughter for a second before nodding her head with a jerky motion. "Please."
"I'll go," Sirius volunteered as he stood. Unbidden, Dobby appeared with Sirius' cloak. "Thanks," Sirius muttered before turning back to his oldest friend. "Get well, brother," Sirius put voice to his fear in the form of a plea.
Twenty minutes later, Ted Tonks swept into the sitting room.
.oOo.
There was no simmering hostility from Andromeda during this recovery period for Dora as there had been the previous time. Granted, her injuries on this occasion were far more serious, but that didn't seem to affect Andromeda and Ted. It was as if time had been rewound to Christmas so that the family could enjoy each other's presence without distractions.
Once Moony and Stripes' health was stabilized, Alastor was called in for discussions. Honouring the Tonks' unspoken decision to stay out of the war, the talks moved to the Lord's study.
Remus was nestled in the corner under a series of blankets. Finishing the recounting of their 'buying expedition', he scowled, "We were talking quite seriously about having some of those days Memory charmed. Horror layered with revulsion was the daily schedule." Shivering, the usually stoic Moony told more with his actions than with his words.
Moody ignored the finer feelings of the Lycanthrope, "How did you know about Albus?"
"At the last place, a Dark Arts bazaar in Hungary, a reveller stumbled into the booth where I was negotiating. He was shouting about 'the Dark Lord being back', and 'Raise a glass'.
"I damn near killed him when he joyfully recounted that at the resurrection ceremony, there had been representatives from many of the continental groups we've been watching. Of course, the subjugation of Albus was a cornerstone of the resurrection. Apparently, it took him hours to die…" Remus trailed off as the others in the room reflected and grieved for the old wizard. They'd not always agreed with the man. Hell, most of the time they'd not even liked the man, but they all respected his general contributions to magical society. He failed many and failed often, but he had made a positive impact on many lives.
"Those witnesses of Voldemort's resurrection, they had scattered to the four winds with the news that Voldemort was back. He has a ready made support base on the continent now. Since we've decimated his home grown forces, he decided to develop a new group of pseudo soldiers."
"But that kind of help can't be as good as the kind that he's been cultivating here," Steven observed. Mad-Eye nodded in agreement, confirming Steven's supposition.
Scowling, Remus remembered, "As it was, I still levelled that happy bastard with a right cross. I noticed Dora's pale complexion, figured she was hurt much worse than she let on and decided it was time to get the hell out of there."
Mad-Eye leaned back in his chair. "We need to be ready. With him having an audience like that, he's going to move right away." Nodding at Harry, Alastor elaborated, "In your first time, the only witnesses he had to his rebirth were marked Death Eaters, those he trusted as far as an animal like Voldemort can trust. These foreign fighters are just hired wands as far as Voldemort is concerned. He probably doesn't trust them any further than he can throw them. For them to be present and able to carry away the tale, he must be ready to move or nearly so." Tapping on his chin with a scarred hand, he contemplated the next move.
Standing, he moved to the door. Over his shoulder he announced, "I've got to warn Amelia. With Azkaban gone and Dumbledore dead, he'll move on the Ministry."
"The Ministry…" Hermione mused as Mad-Eye left. Turning to Harry, she kissed him soundly. "I've got it."
"You bet you do, but we really don't have time for that right now," Harry joked.
Rolling her eyes, she told him, "I've got an idea of how we can lure Voldemort out of his hidey hole."
The room stilled as Hermione explained her idea.
.oOo.
The view from the peak of Snowden is beautiful. To the southwest lay Cardigan Bay, feeding Tremadoc Bay on whose coasts lay the rolling estate of Rowan Hill. To the west lay the lesser known Caernarfon Bay. Watching the rolling waves crashing on the shore seemed to distract him for a few moments.
To the East lay the rolling Cambrian Mountains. These had long served as a natural border for the Welsh coastal cities from the predations of the English. Eventually, even the Cambrian's were overcome in the 'establishment' of the United Kingdom.
Far to the north lay the Isle of Man. Harry couldn't see it; the curvature of the Earth precluded direct viewing. If Snowden were a thousand metres taller, he might have seen the looming shadow, which indicates an island on the horizon.
The Boy-Who-Lived looked at the scenery but did not see. It had been a run of a few hours in his animagus form. The dark of the night had hardly slowed Midnight. Preoccupied, Harry's gaze flitted from sight to sight, never resting nor taking in what was in front of him.
He'd almost lost Moony and Stripes and that tore at him. He knew that in war, sometimes you lose those closest to you. Sardonically chuckling to himself, he muttered, "If there's anyone alive who knows that, it's me."
Sitting on the overlarge boulder, he continued his staring without seeing. The sky lightened and the stars faded. Still his was immobile.
Hermione. He couldn't lose her again. At the same time, she'd tear his lungs out through his nose if he even suggested that she stay behind for the upcoming fight. His fear ebbed and flooded. At one point he was filled with terror at the thought of losing his beloved, the next he was nearly accepting of whatever fate could decree.
Scrubbing his face, he sighed. The wind shifted as it had for time immemorial. With the coming of the sun, the wind shifted from the east to the west. In times of old, all power came from the west.
Beyond the dictates of the prophecy, he had to face Voldemort. No one else could defeat the man. No one else could end the suffering that was to come. No one had the motivation to stand in defiance of the monster Tom Riddle had become.
Voldemort would never leave Harry be - Harry knew this. In the future that was, he and Hermione had dispatched twelve Hunter Teams that were specifically looking for Harry Potter. The man was relentless paired with the memory of the elephants. He would always be looking over his shoulder for the Prophesized One who would Have The Power.
The red eyed monster would always come for Harry and so there would never be peace for the green eyed seeker. Hermione would always be threatened. Any children he and Hermione would have would live under the shadow of the Dark Lord. The Family would always have to be in hiding. Loved ones and friends would die or be hurt.
In the meeting engagement to come, though, those he loved could very well die. Hermione had told him that the Family was extraordinary. Harry could now see the truth in her words. None of them would be left behind in the final sally against the wizard who would be emperor. All would stand into danger. None would go gently in to that good night that threatened to overtake Britain, even though none now alive, outside the Family, knew that the darkness threatened.
"Enough," he declared to the world.
Standing tall at the highest point in his native lands, Harry Potter, Earl of Richmond and heir to line of Godric Gryffindor and Rowena Ravenclaw, set his face to the west wind. The sun rose at his back, slowly illuminating the forests at his feet. The world came alive inch by inch, yet still he stood, finally seeing.
The sun came out.
Behind him, he heard the soft padding of a lioness, causing him to smile at her timing. Why not, though? he mused to himself. In the end, she'd always been his sun, his life.
Silently, she wrapped her arms about him from behind. Pressing herself to mould to him, she whispered, "Dora's awake."
A/N
1. I own nothing. Thanks to all who reviewed the first twelve chapters. Story status, as always, can be found on my Author's page on FanFiction(dot)net.
2. Recommendation for the chapter is Delenda Est, an excellent Harry/Bellatrix time travel story by Lord Silvere, which gives an excellent portrayal of pureblood politics…in the '70s.
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