Unofficial Portkey Archive

Chapter 13

Alex Price was confused.

One moment she was the embodiment of `a woman scorned,' therefore righteously angry with her former lover, Remus Lupin. He was the man she'd loved, counted on and devoted herself. He was the man she wanted to marry, have his children and live `mostly happily ever after' as they'd joked. He'd turned her away, shattering her heart and mind for years. It took her five years as opposed to the usual three to complete her healer training due to the emotional destruction she'd suffered. She was a bit upset with the man, to say the least.

On the other hand, deep inside her she yearned to see him again; to feel giddy and heady just by being in his presence. To hear his deep voice reverberating in her chest as he spoke while they cuddled in front of a fire. To call his name in the throes of passion. For him to still have that effect on her years after their parting reinforced what she already knew: she never did, nor ever would, `get over' Remus Lupin.

Both issues were all well and good, but didn't solve the immediate problem. What should she do about this man who'd unexpectedly returned to her life?

The old defences jumped into place as she knocked on his door. She knew that she loved Remus, but she didn't know if she liked him all that much. In the end, she had her professional task in front of her. She didn't relish it much regardless of the patient.

When Remus opened the door, Alex had to swallow a laugh. He had a quill perched over each ear - obviously he forgot that he'd put the first in its place before grabbing the second. There was a large blot of ink on his nose, smudged and smeared from repeated wiping and rubbing. His attention was wholly focused on the parchment in his hand as he opened the door. Alex was convinced he didn't realize who was at the door and mayn't have realized that he opened the door in the first place.

God she loved him.

And she hated him.

"Lupin," she began to catch his attention.

"Hmm," he replied distractedly. Still standing there, his eyebrows lifted to show that a very remote part of his mind had noticed that he'd been addressed but nothing further than that.

Annoyed, the blonde healer reached out to prod the man in the shoulder. Giving him a good poke, she wondered at his noticeable wince of discomfort. Remus had an extraordinarily high tolerance for pain. Whatever ailed him must be bad or recent.

"Sorry," he muttered as he stood back from the doorway. "I'm now James' steward and catching up on the history of the estate while keeping the tenants happy, the grounds cultivated and the crops tended is a full time job."

Smothering a frown, she diverted the conversation. Alex didn't want to talk about his life or how Remus was doing. That could very well derail her and encourage the blossoming affection for the man. "What's wrong with your shoulder?"

Striding past him, Alex set her bag down on the desk where she'd worked during her last visit.

"Broken collarbone. Poppy set it and dosed me with Skele-Gro, but you know how well that potion works on us." His tone was resigned.

Frowning, she turned to him, "Skele-Gro works for shite on Lycanthropes. Poppy should know that."

"She does, but what alternative does she have?"

Annoyed, Alex dove into her bottomless bag. Withdrawing a vial of calcium accelerator, a vial of Vitamin D and the biggest needle she had, Alex told her patient, "Sit down and roll up your sleeve."

Silently he obeyed, his remorse written in every movement and every expression. Goddam right, she muttered to herself. It was hard to forget the long nights staring at the vial of poison or the one night she'd taken it. The fortuitous early return of her roommate had saved her life. Just as she'd earlier had to swallow back a laugh, now she had swallow a sob.

She'd devoted her entire life to him and he'd tossed her aside like a bit of rubbish.

With a little more force than was strictly necessary, Alex jabbed the needle containing her ad hoc Skele-Gro mixture into Remus' arm. His wince of pain caused more than a flash of guilt.

"That should do the trick. Two days at most and you'll be up to snuff." Stowing her vials and needle, she absently nodded to his murmured thanks.

The pressure that had been building since she saw him the other day came rushing back. She had to know. Leaning on the table, the silence stretched out about them until it took on a life of its own.

"Why?" Her hoarse whisper was reminiscent of Remus' post full moon voice.

He was silent for a moment, but she'd expected this. Remus would want to ensure he told her the truth, so he would mull over his words for a moment before speaking. Eventually, he cleared his throat. "I was in one of the lowest periods of my life. Even when I slit my wrists in fourth year, I hadn't been as low as I was when I left…"

His voice trailed off into a weak warble. Looking over to him, she was surprised to see him weeping. While Remus had always been a sensitive and caring man, he'd also been very reserved. For him to weep in front of her was quite shocking for the blonde healer.

"For all I knew, James, Lily and Peter were dead. Sirius was a traitor who'd betrayed them all to their deaths and Little Harry had disappeared to heaven knows where. I was…" he paused, thinking. "Confused and distraught."

Her eyes narrowed, "You were confused so you dumped me in the bin like a piece of trash."

His eyes narrowed in return, a small spark of amber flaring to life. Had she not been so emotionally invested in the discussion, Alex would have realized that she'd just gone a bit too far.

His face tight, he asked, "How are your parents?"

Taken aback, she replied, "Fine."

"Good. Mine are still dead." He pressed on with force in his query, "How're Jeanette and Stephanie?"

Again, she automatically replied. "They're well. Jeanette just had her third child."

"Good. My best friends just returned from the dead and Azkaban. Oh yeah, the other one is a Death Eater."

Catching her bearings, she also caught his point and it infuriated her. Jabbing her finger at him, Alex stabbed out, "You bastard. Don't you blame all that for what you did to me. Do you know what you did to me? I died that day!" All the pain, the rage, the self-doubt, the recriminations against both him and her flooded to the fore causing her to break free to swirl into the maelstrom of her emotion.

Bolting to his feet, Remus yelled, "I had nothing! As far as I knew, my entire family was dead! Again!" Panting hard, he continued his rant, "I was wrong to push you away! Utterly and completely wrong, but dammit woman, I wasn't trying to hurt you!"

Coldly, she cut at him, "Well, you succeeded."

Deflating, he nodded, "I know and I'm sorrier than you can imagine."

"I don't know; I can imagine quite a bit."

Despite the seriousness of the situation, he smiled. "Yes, you can."

She wasn't ready to give in yet, though. "I wasn't trying to be funny, Lupin."

He nodded soberly. "True. I…" he trailed off, struggling to find the right words. "I…"

"What do you want?" she spat.

Meeting her cold gaze unflinching, he told her, "I was about to ask you that."

"I want to know why. I want what we had before you ruined us," she baldly accused him.

"Why?" he asked himself as he sat. Running his hands through his hair, Remus leaned back in the chair until he was staring at the ceiling. "Because I was scared, confused, hurt and a complete mess. It's not a very good reason, but it's the truth."

Sitting up straight, his eyes focused on hers, "As far as recapturing what we had then, I think we both know it's impossible."

Standing, he made his way to her, an implacable predator. She was mesmerized, haunted. Yearning for him, she still backed away. When the back of her legs bumped into the table, she couldn't retreat any farther - metaphorically and literally.

Remus didn't stop. He pressed into her, wrapping her in his embrace before passionately kissing her. Her body reacted of its own accord, melding into him. Pulling him closer to her in a desperate claiming, her mouth opened to him, deepening the kiss.

She didn't know if it was he or she that moaned, but her body was quivering with desire and supressed longing.

"Wait, wait…," she panted as a semblance of sanity returned. As her vision unfogged, she was shocked to see that his shirt was open and her hands on his body. Ok, so I still want to shag him, but…

As the lust passed, she began to weep. This time, his embrace was gentle and supportive. He'd reclaimed her and she him, but there was much to do. First, she needed to grieve.

All those years she'd believed that he still loved her - rightly so it turned out. Yet, there had still been so much pain, doubt and self-loathing that Alex had to purge that poison from her system.

When her storm of weeping tapered to sniffles, she accepted his proffered handkerchief with a nod of thanks.

"We can never have what we had, but are you willing to try to build something new?" he asked her in a soft undertone. His nuzzling of her neck was driving her to distraction.

Turning away, she pulled him after her. Opening the door to his bedroom, she told him, "Ask me again in the morning."

.oOo.

Alex propped herself up on an elbow, watching her newly regained lover sleep. Remus was - had been actually - a very light sleeper yet he was down so far he'd not moved at all when she got up to use the toilet.

The healer inside her frowned. All the tests she'd run pointed to progressive liver failure for him, but Alex'd been unable to pinpoint the cause. One doesn't turn the corner while stepping in a big pile of liver failure she sniped to herself. There has to be a cause of some sort.

As the blonde healer stroked his chest with tender affection, he finally roused. Remus' expression was momentarily confused. She could nearly see the wheels in his brain whirring until he grinned. Turning his amber eyes on her, his grin widened to an unaffected smile.

She tried to return his warm friendly smile, but must have failed. His face crumpled into a frown. Tentatively reaching for her, Moony asked, "Do you feel you made a mistake?"

Given her thought process, the question befuddled her. Alex's reply of "I don't think so," was pushed asked when she caught up to his line of thinking. Knowing he deserved an honest reply - they both did as a matter of fact - she curled up to him as she considered. Eventually, she told him, "I think it depends."

"On what?" he asked with more than a bit of concern. If the discussion hadn't been so serious, she would've laughed at his expression, it was so earnest.

Her eyes narrowed as the old anger fired deep within her. Alex sighed as she saw through the old habit. This anger was but a pale imitation of what she'd felt for years, a routine as much as washing one's hands before mealtime.

Was it only yesterday? when she'd asked him why he'd left her. In so doing, the old resentment had broken as a dry twig underfoot. A great heaving sigh gave truth to the situation. She still loved Remus, but she didn't trust him a whit.

Which was the crux of her present predicament.

Returning her mind to the conversation with her lover, she flatly told him, "It depends on whether you're going to leave me again when things get hard."

She could see his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. The man's guilt was tangible, As it should be, she thought scathingly. Just because she'd conceded her on going love for him, didn't mean that Alex had completely forgiven Remus.

Nevertheless, she had committed to try to move past the pain, so she waited for his reply with as open a mind as she could muster.

"I promise that if we ever separate, it will be a mutual decision or at least I won't unilaterally be an arrogant prick again."

She frowned. This was far from the unequivocal pledge she wanted from him. The frown deepened when he remained silent, choosing to let the statement lie where it was.

"Is that the best you can do?" she asked with a hint of resentment. She wanted reassurance and security from him. She loved him and wanted to be with him, but she was afraid. He'd loved her before but still left, shattering her in the process. Dammit, she wanted a bloody guarantee that he wouldn't bolter again. In a moment of clarity, she realized that what he was offering was everything short of a marriage proposal.

His eyes cycled away from her face for a long moment. Considering, he finally nodded to himself absently. "It's honest," he declared.

The venom faded from her veins as she nodded. For years she'd oscillated between a red hot fury toward Remus to a desperate longing for their `mostly happily ever after'. The fact remained that, regardless of the reason, they'd been apart for a dozen years. People can change quite a bit in that time. Yet, do they fundamentally change?

Remus' hair was mostly grey now, a direct by product of his disease. Paradoxically, his life expectancy had nearly doubled. Her dissertation advisor has once speculated that, while not sentient, the disease of lycanthropy still wanted to survive as long as possible in its host. The incredible magic that forced the cursed change also seemed to extend the sufferer's lifespan.

If Remus could live that long.

Had he made some bold, dramatic and utterly ridiculous commitment to her, he'd have been a fool. And she'd have been a fool to accept it. People change over time. They were both willing to try again. He was being mature and honest, for which she was grateful.

Since they were being honest, she told him, "I've something I need to tell you."

He visibly braced himself for the news, eyes wide.

"The tests I ran the other day indicated that you've significant liver damage. As a result, your biochemistry - which is already in constant flux due to the lycanthropy - is out of order even more so than usual. This results in your tiredness."

Alex paused, waiting for a reaction. A big goofy grin that melted into laughter wasn't the reaction she'd expected.

"That's it?" he gasped between guffaws. "Thank goodness. I thought you were going to tell me you were married or dating someone else. Oh, dear…" he trailed off, a few tear squirting from the sides of his eyes.

Annoyed, she snapped, "You idiot! You could die!" I may just have you back, I can't lose you already, she protested to herself.

His chuckles became a smile as he pulled her closer. "I've been told that I'm near death a dozen times or more. We'll figure something out. I assume you're going to recruit Lily?"

She nodded against his chest, her ire fading.

Feeling him plant a kiss on the crown of her head, he told her, "It'll work out. One way or the other, it'll work out."

.oOo.

"Oh, that's good Harry."

"Is it Ok?" he asked breathlessly.

"Yeah, twist a bit…there. Now harder."

"Like this?"

"Yes! Oh, that's it!"

Harry grinned. They'd been working at the Barrier spell all day for the wand work was rather tricky. It was an obscure spell that was very short lived, but while active, created a barrier impassable by any spell, object or spirit. The literature was unclear as to whether it blocked the Unforgivables, but neither teen was willing to test that aspect of the spell.

Extending his hand, Harry poked his fingers at the translucent orange barrier. Touching a solid wall, he regarded his girlfriend on the other side. He couldn't help but to start sniggering.

"What?" she asked as she planted her hands on her hips.

"Through the barrier, your hair looks the same colour as Crookshanks' fur," he laughed aloud as he plopped on the floor.

Hermione arched an eyebrow, but waited in silence. Five seconds later, the barrier fell.

"Uh, oh," he whispered playfully.

Harry could see her stifling a smile as she strode to him with obvious purpose. Straddling his lap, she slowly leaned forward before nibbling on his ear.

Harry's reaction was immediate. His hand moved to her bum when she purred seductively, "Oh, Harry."

He groaned. Without warning, she hopped off his lap, her grin mischievous. "Don't you have the meeting with Mr Bagman in a few minutes?"

Harry gaped, then smiled. Standing, he strode up to her as Hermione's grin widened. Backing away from him, she held her hand up. "You've an appointment."

"Yeah, with you," he told her. This kind of play was an expanded aspect of their relationships that Harry enjoyed.

"Ah, ah, ah," she cautioned. Diving behind the sofa, Hermione told him, "Harry, you need to go. Susan will be here in a few minutes."

"You started it, she can go away," he pouted.

As he turned to leave, she told him, "We'll finish it later, but next time? No Crookshanks jokes."

"Fine," he grumbled as he shut the door behind him on the way out.

.oOo.

The walk to the Quidditch pitch was pleasant - once his blood cooled, that is. The weather had warmed, while the continuous spring rains had finally relented allowing the ground to catch its breath as well. Usually, through April and May, the ground was a veritable sponge with the same consistency.

Harry pulled out his pocket watch to check the time. Lily had quietly handed it to him a few weeks before. Opening the Patek Phillipe watch, he'd seen the inscription, For Harry, all my love, Mum - May '96.

Seeing that he was on time, Harry's eyes lingered on the inscription. His right hand caressed the inside of the watch, bringing Harry's attention to the signet ring his father had gifted him before Christmas. The ornate `P' engraved on the ring was strangely comforting.

Half smiling to himself, he joined the group. Bagman beamed disingenuously before launching into a hearty explanation of the third task.

.oOo.

Susan and Hermione were nattering. It was an extraordinary event for both witches. "I don't think I've ever gossiped before," Susan giggled as she sipped at the butterbeer she'd brought.

Hermione smiled, returning the sentiment. Sipping the beer, she thought about her burgeoning relationship with the redheaded Hufflepuff. She'd never really had a girlfriend. Her Mum never talked about just `stuff'. Alice was always focused on `getting ahead', or `improving oneself'. When Alice had sat Hermione down for `the talk' before sending Hermione off to Hogwarts, the then bushy haired pre-teen thought she was in a biology class, her mother had been so detached and clinical about the topic. Granted, the primary motivation for the discussion was to inform Hermione so that if or when her cycle started while away at school, the budding young woman wouldn't panic. Still, the tone of the discussion was rather indicative of their mother-daughter relationship.

She really liked Susan, though. The witch had a very pragmatic view of the world, most likely due to growing up with a police officer as a guardian. At the same time, the redheaded Hufflepuff was a very sensitive and caring person. The combination made Susan Bones a very nice person with whom Hermione was quite glad to become better acquainted.

"So?" Susan asked, her eyebrows arched.

Hermione thought she knew what her friend was asking, but was a bit shy. "So what?" she rebutted as she took another sip of her drink.

"What's it like?" Susan asked with real interest. The `bubbliness' fell away to reveal a young woman who was very interested in the potential answer.

The Smartest Witch of the Age sighed. Leaning back in her chair, she stared into the fire, gathering her thoughts. Deciding to trust the girl, she told her, "I've never felt…more like the `me' that I can be now." Redirecting her gaze at the now round-eyed redhead, Hermione added, "It's not just the sex, but that is wonderful. It's our relationship. I love him and he me." Looking away, she stared out the window. "I intend on marrying him as soon as we're able."

"Whoa," Susan muttered. "I had no idea you two were so serious."

For a while now, Hermione had fears that she was reluctant to give voice. She knew that in the mundane world, most fourteen and fifteen year olds don't find their `true love'. In fact, most of the teens don't even remember whom they were dating at that age come ten years later. She was worried that she was being a silly girl who was dressing up her first romance as `the one'.

Taking the plunge, Hermione asked, "You grew up magical. Tell me, is it unusual for couples to pair up at such an early age like Harry and me?"

Susan sat back in her chair, the butterbeer forgotten. "For many couples it seems to be the norm. Look at our class. Outside of the weirdo marriage contracts like Malfoy and Parkinson, only the really magically strong kids have paired up in stable relationships."

Chewing her lip, Hermione considered. Terry Boot and Hannah Abbot had been dating seriously since the beginning of the year. While not on her and Harry's scale, they would most likely approach Sorcerer grade as they aged. Tracy Davis and Blaise Zabini, Padma Patil and Justin Finch-Fletchly all of them were formidable in terms of power in their spellcasting. Now Susan and Neville were paired up. Turning her gaze on the slightly blushing redhead, Hermione smiled as she asked, "What about you and Neville?"

Without missing a beat, Susan replied, "We'd have been dating last year if he wasn't so shy."

"And?"

"And I intend on claiming him as soon as he's comfortable. I won't push him. His Gran has done that far too often with him. I…" she trailed off. The confident tone became one of wonder, "I've loved Neville for a while now."

Hermione smiled. When Susan met her gaze, the redhead smiled to match the first generation witch's own expression. "I don't know why, but it just is."

Nodding, Hermione realized that her question had been answered. Her fears calmed, she toasted her friend, "To the future Lady of House Longbottom."

"To the future Lady Richmond," Susan rejoined with a wide smile.

.oOo.

"I don't like it," Sirius proclaimed softly. Hestia squeezed his shoulder in a reassuring manner, but stayed silent. She was still a fledgling member of the family and didn't want to speak out of turn.

"Neither do I, Padfoot. But unless we're all misunderstanding what's afoot, Voldemort will be back within the year," James coolly rebutted.

"Or sooner," Moony murmured.

"Or sooner," Lily agreed, sipping her tea.

"But they're…" Sirius began to object.

"Don't say `kids' Padfoot," Remus interrupted. Hestia watched Alex Price pay close attention to the discussion. Where Hestia had been with the family longer than the blonde healer, Alex had been deep in their machinations during the previous war. It seemed to be a short step for them to accept her back into their counsels. A very petty part of Hestia resented that immediate acceptance. At the same time, Alex and Remus had nearly married before everything fell apart that fateful Halloween night.

Refocusing on the discussion, Hestia raised her eyebrows in surprise. She didn't expect Remus to be such an advocate for the teens, but here he was promoting for Harry and Hermione. "They've seen and done as much or more than all of us put together, so that whinge about their age is bollocks." Narrowing his eyes playfully, Remus added, "It's what I'd expect from Molly Weasley."

Sirius stuck his tongue out at his old friend. "Bloke gets shagged and he's chipper all of a sudden."

The group dissolved into laughter as Alex blushed and Remus ducked his head. Remus' reuniting with Alexandra Price had been received with universal approval by the motley family. The healer had returned to the hospital for her shift, but was to back to attend their communal dinner. Hestia was vaguely aware of the witch from school. She knew that Alex was a Ravenclaw that Remus dated after school, but not much more beyond that.

"Seriously," Prongs interjected. "You know how overprotective I can be about Prongslet, but he and Hermione deserve to know." Looking at his hands, he added in a soft voice, "They'll need to know if we want them to survive."

The group was silent as they mulled over James' conclusion. Hestia decided that she had a very different view of the situation, as she was the newcomer to the group and not a parent to either of the teens.

"Love," she addressed Sirius, "James is right. Harry and Hermione can more than defend themselves." Gesturing to the others, she baldly reminded her fiancé, "They handed you all your arses, didn't they?"

"Yeah, they did," Sirius answered with a half-smile.

Remus told Hestia what had them all worried. "We've all lost far too many friends and family to Voldemort and his Death Eaters and we don't want to lose Harry and Hermione. They're too valuable." At his side, Alex's face paled as she nodded in agreement.

Hestia too had lost friends in the Blood War, but not nearly as many as the others, it seemed. "What do Harry and Hermione think?" she pondered.

This took them all aback. After a stunned silence, it was Lily who broke it with peals of laughter. The other watched her in a mix of surprise and amusement until she regained control of herself. Wiping her eyes, she choked out, "We're all idiots. If we asked them, I'm positive that they would both tell us that they want to be involved but don't feel that they can be front line fighters yet." Shaking her head, a few weak giggles faded into silence.

"So, we're agreed that we'll be fully open with Harry and Hermione in the upcoming war?" Prongs queried with a seriousness that sobered all present.

"War?" Hestia asked sceptically.

Sirius turned to her, "Love, we were all on the front lines of the Blood War and it was most definitely a war; battles, casualties and the lot. With all the political manoeuvring and the snippets that Dumbledore's little spies are feeding him and in turn us, it's going to be as bad as or worse than before."

"And there's the prophecy," Remus reminded them all.

Hestia was taken aback at Lily's snarl of "Remus!"

The werewolf mildly cocked an eyebrow when he clarified, "The one that Sybil gave last year."

"Last year?" Sirius asked in befuddlement. Hestia could tell that Alex was confused. A part of her sympathized with her position, but now knowing the whole story, she agreed with James' reticence in disclosing the full nature of the Prophecy. It was evident that Alex could tell that based on the conversation and the reactions of Lily and Sirius, there must be more than one prophecy. Frowning at the others' reactions, Remus settled back in his chair. Closing his eyes, he recounted the foretelling.

"The Dark Lord lies alone and friendless, abandoned by his followers. His servant has been chained these twelve years. Tonight, before midnight, the servant will break free and set out to rejoin his master. The Dark Lord will rise again with his servant's aid, greater and more terrible than ever he was."

Remus' recitation from memory was chilling to Hestia. In retrospect, the meaning behind the words was obvious: Peter Pettigrew was to flee the last opportunity for redemptions or possible justice, by setting out to find the Dark Lord. The consequence of that pursuit - Voldemort `greater and more terrible than ever he was' - was terrifying for the blonde witch. She was a politician and diplomat, not a warrior.

There was a long pause before James angrily asked, "Why am I just hearing about this now?"

The surprise on Remus' face was unfeigned. He looked to Padfoot who was just as shocked, but for a different reason. "I've never heard this before, James," Sirius whispered. Holding his head in his hands, Sirius mumbled, "Dear God."

Remus looked back to his other friend, "I'm sorry James. I thought you knew…"

James face was white while Lily sat in stunned incredulity. "That's that," she murmured. "That's the missing key." Turning to Remus, she asked, "And when did she give this prophecy?

"At the end of last school year. The day that I got outed and Sirius fled Britain."

They all mulled over the news, letting it wash over and through them until their emotions settled. Finally, Lily turned to James, "We need to get ready."

He nodded. Looking to his friends, he told them, "Since it's `more terrible than before' or what, we need to move our funds offshore."

Sirius nodded, "Caymans?"

"Or even Hong Kong. Maybe eventually Dubai, Luxembourg or Bahrain. Don't know, yet. Hong Kong may be good enough."

"Yeah, the accords don't lapse for another four years," Sirius mused.

"Why not New York or Switzerland?" Lily asked.

Hestia fielded this one, relieved to be more than a `stupid question person'. "Neither New York or Switzerland have a Gringotts branch. The gnomes run all the banks in Zurich and the dwarves split the business with the gnomes in the States. The Middle East is a free for all. The gnomes, dwarves and goblins are all over the place there. Historically, the goblins have run the banking system in the British Empire and the later Commonwealth."

"And it's easier to move the massive sums of money we're talking about by staying within the goblins' system, if we want to spread out further once the funds are out of Britain, it's a lot easier to do outside the country." James finished.

"As he said," Hestia agreed.

"What about Voldemort's money?" Lily mused as she stared at the window. "If we could cripple him now, it would be a big benefit."

"Who would we target though?" Sirius asked. "Malfoy? Lestrange? Jugson? Macnair? Or maybe the midlevel wealth like Crabbe, Goyle or Nott?"

"We get it, Padfoot," James interrupted. "He has too many funding sources to shut down his operations."

"What about places to stay outside of Britain?" Hestia asked.

Remus replied, "There are Potter properties in Ireland and Spain."

"Ireland feels too close," Lily replied. "I'd feel better about Spain."

Drawing a quill as he conjured a piece of parchment, Remus told her, "I'll get the particulars." Hestia was impressed. It was the first time she'd seen Remus filling his role as steward for the house of Richmond and it went seamlessly. There was no sense of servitude or subjugation at all. The meeting continued as a conference of peers.

James turned to Sirius, "What about the Black properties?" Padfoot shrugged as he made a note to check with the goblins. They were all silent as they realized the magnitude of their discussion. They were talking about preparations in case the government fell and Britain were overrun by Voldemort's forces.

Sirius asked the question that all had been considering, "What about the Order?"

Hestia had been approached by Albus during the previous war. As a low level bureaucrat with a bright future, she didn't have a lot of insight into the inner workings of the Ministry, but she did her best to contribute to the war effort as best as she could. As she mentioned before, Hestia would never be confused with a warrior.

James shook his head in confusion, "I don't know if I can work with Albus any longer."

Hestia pursed her lips but remained silent. Lily's expression was murderous as was Remus'. Whatever transpired, it poisoned the others against the old Headmaster. Being a diplomat, she was very used to working with people she despised. Hestia didn't think that the family could indulge in the luxury of their nicer feelings of working with the greybeard should the Dark Lord return `greater and more terrible than ever he was'. Nevertheless, she remained silent as she felt it wasn't her place to cajole the family - yet.

At that moment, the door burst open, revealing a red-faced, panting Harry. "Dad! Come quick! It's Mr Crouch!"

.oOo.

It had begun innocently enough. "So, Harry, you'll be starting first into the maze. Despite your late start for the second task, you still finished far and away in the lead. Well done."

Harry rolled his eyes at Bagman's arse kissing. His Mum had filled him in on Bagman's proclivities while his Dad finished the story with some words from the goblins regarding Bagman's financial `issues'. Obviously, the Ministry man had a bet of some such on The Boy-Who-Lived. Too bad. Since there was no hostage for this event, Harry did not intend to participate beyond the bare minimum in the third task.

Giving a shrug to show that he heard Bagman, Harry took the opportunity to watch the other champions. Viktor Krum was standing off to the side, his usual surly expression on his face. When the gaze of the two most famous young wizards in the world met, Harry couldn't help but smile. Viktor gave him a surreptitious wink in response. The Boy-Who-Lived knew all too well about fawning fans and hostile press. Where Harry removed himself from the public eye to deal with the troubles, the Youngest and Best Seeker in All Of Quidditch chose to intimidate his harassers with his perpetual glower.

Bagman was loitering about after he finished his description of the task. Fleur and Cedric had both hurried up to the castle, leaving the threesome on the Quidditch pitch.

"Ah, being here reminds me of the old days. Some Quidditch for the ages," Bagman observed grandiosely.

Meeting Viktor's gaze, Harry rolled his eyes very deliberately. Neither student rose to the bait of a discussion with the man.

"Well, lads, are you ready for this event?"

Harry was silent while Viktor grunted his reply. Both teens stared off to the forest, hoping the man would take a hint.

"I must say it's been quite exciting so far," the washed up Beater proclaimed in a last ditch attempt to kindle a conversation.

When neither teen replied, he jovially announced, "Well, I can't stay to chat. Lots to do!" Harry couldn't help but grin when the man gave a beaming smile before trudging up the path to the castle.

"Fool," Viktor muttered.

"More like buffoon," Harry corrected with a smile. "He is using us for publicity and I'm sure he has a few bets on the outcome of the tournament. I don't think he wishes us harm, though."

Shrugging, Viktor frowned at the forest. Lazily pointing, he asked Harry, "Do you see that?"

Squinting into the failing light, Harry saw a figure stumble out of the edge of the forest. a figure that looked astonishingly like Bartemius Crouch. "Is dat de man from your Ministry who has been ill for so long?" Viktor asked as he and Harry trotted to the edge of the forest.

"I think so."

Catching up to the man they both heard his rambling. As the man slipped in and out of incoherency, Harry did the only sensible thing. "Stupefy," he cast. When the dishevelled man finally relaxed on the ground, Harry turned to Viktor. "Can you take him to the Infirmary? I'd like to get my Dad."

"Ja," Viktor nodded, the bored expression long gone. Catching Harry by the arm, Viktor cautioned the green-eyed Seeker, "He looks to be suffering from either de Imperius or Compulsion charms."

Harry took the hint. Crouch had escaped from someone who had been controlling him. Nodding, he changed his mind. "Let's take him to the infirmary together. Once Madam Pomfrey has him, I can fetch my father."

.oOo.

James decided to have a bit of fun. When Harry raced off to return to the infirmary, James shifted to Prongs. Hearing a yip at his side, he saw Padfoot lolling his tongue. Pawing his front hoof, Prongs lowered his antlers, giving them a shake. With a howl, Padfoot sprang out the door, following his godson. A leap and bound later found the majestic stag rocketing down the hallway after his cousin and son leaving behind a shocked and stunned Hestia Jones and Alexandra Price.

It's been a while since I let loose he thought to himself. Unfortunately, hooves and stone floors aren't all that great for turning, so long after Prongs went shooting past Padfoot, he piled into the wall at the intersection where he needed to make a hard left to the infirmary.

Padfoot gave a barking laugh as he breezed by the rising stag. Snorting, Prongs stood, shaking his massive head to clear the ringing in his ears. A small squeal off to his side caused him to turn. Four students were staring at him with wide eyes. Shifting to his human form, James waved while smiling widely. "Hi!"

Shifting back to the regal stag, Prongs shot away, leaving the fifth year Hufflepuffs gaping.

Prongs caught up to the other two just in time for them to enter the Infirmary together. If a deer could laugh, Prongs would have fallen down in hysterics when he saw the expression on Madam Pomfrey's face.

Granted, a forbidding faced Harry Potter flanked by a Grim and stag was unusual but her astonishment quickly turned to outrage.

"Get those dirty animals out of my Infirmary Mr Potter!"

Harry smiled before replying, "Yes ma'am." Turning to Prongs, he asked, "Dad?"

James and Sirius changed back to their human forms, laughing as they did so. Smiling widely, James turned to the nurse, "I apologize for the unhygienic nature of my entry to your realm, Madam." He bowed deeply before becoming more serious. "How's Crouch?"

She shook her head in frustration, as he noticed that the Headmaster and Minerva had entered the room. "He's shifting rapidly from lucid to delirious and it's difficult to tell which is which."

James frowned as he silently interposed himself between Harry and Albus. Albus had been fully compliant with the restraining order that prohibited contact between the Headmaster and Harry, but James didn't want to tempt the old man. They had a wobbly truce that he felt was as far as they could go, but didn't want to upset that apple cart.

Moving to the old man, Albus asked over his shoulder, "Has he said anything that makes sense, Poppy?"

"Well, he keeps mentioning his son and a mistake, but that's it. There's quite a bit of rambling about a Weatherby character and snippets of what seems to be his past, but that's it. I'm afraid his mind may be broken."

"Did you call for Healer Macdougal yet?" Albus asked as he leaned over the Ministry man. James assumed the Headmaster was performing Legilimancy on the man's damaged mind.

Figuring Macdougal was a Mind Healer of some kind, James half listened to Poppy. The details of Crouch's diagnoses were irrelevant, he decided. The fact that Crouch had been under the Imperius for a significant length of time was very disturbing and fed James' belief that Voldemort was on the march. But why Crouch?

"Oh, God," Sirius muttered. Turning to his cousin, James raised his eyebrows in a silent question. "It's Crouch that got Harry into the Tournament at the bidding of whoever used the Imperius on him."

Silence fell on the ward. James gulped back his anger. Crouch wasn't responsible for his actions while under the curse so hexing the broken man wouldn't give James the satisfaction for which he longed. The clop-clop of Alastor Moody entering the wing caused him to half turn, giving the old Auror a distracted greeting.

Watching Harry, James looked for a sign of upset or distress, but was surprised to find his son fairly calm. Gesturing with his head toward the doors, the threesome left the Infirmary as they heard Moody ask, "Has he said anything yet?"

Harry obviously anticipated James' question. Before Prongs could ask, Harry told his Dad and godfather, "It really doesn't matter to me who put me in the tournament. The only thing that I care about along those lines is to shove a hot poker up his arse just `because'. Beyond that…" he trailed off with a shrug of his shoulders,

"Alright…" James acknowledged. Trading a glance with Padfoot, he saw his cousin was a bewildered as he was. Had someone crossed a Marauder like this, they would have nearly tortured him in response. "Whatever. Come on, dinner's nearly on and you need to meet Alex."

"Who's Alex?" Harry asked as they walked down the hallway.

The bark of laughter from Sirius prompted James to say, "I'll let Padfoot tell you," for he always liked Sirius' stories.

"Listen up little man, for you are to be exposed to the ways of the world," Sirius began. Harry's snort of derisive laughter was an appropriate reply.

.oOo.

Hermione looked up the table and smiled. At her side, Harry was animatedly chatting with Neville and Hestia about Puddlemere United's chances in the upcoming championship tournament. Remus and Alex were quietly talking as they ate. James was making faces at Lily who was desperately trying to smother giggles while Susan laughed at him off to the side.

It was family.

The delight in Harry's face was food for her soul. On September first, he'd no family that he'd acknowledge. Now he was surrounded by family of blood and heart. Where his home had been a dungeon of despair, now home was a refuge that he savoured.

She met Sirius' gaze as she looked about the room. He too had suffered for so long, but now was healing. As he dropped her a wink, she couldn't stop the laughter that bubbled up from within. Her entire world was upside down and back to front, but it was a sight better than it'd been at the beginning of the year. Reaching under the table, she caressed Harry's thigh, causing him to hitch in his discussion, but after a quick drink of water, he shouldered on with a slight smile on his face.

James was done being silly. Standing, he held out his goblet of mead. The action caught the attention of all present, the chatter fading away to silence. With a gentle smile of affection, he met everyone's eye in turn.

"Ostensibly, we are gathered tonight to welcome home Alex," James began. The blonde ducked her head as she blushed. Remus' hand disappeared under the table. Hermione assumed he was just holding her hand, but remembered that Moony was a Marauder so anything was possible.

"So welcome home," James nodded to her. "But we are also celebrating. My godson and his Susan are with us," he nodded to Neville and Susan. "Sirius and Hestia are here. Harry and Hermione." James eyes settled on his wife with an adoring expression, "My beloved Lily." Rousing from his contemplation of his loved ones, James continued, "We've had a hard go for a while now. Reaching back to that Halloween night, it seems that our lives have been scattered as ashes in the wind. Many are missing who should be here."

Hermione watched Neville close his eyes as the inference of his parents was recognized. Susan also ducked her head as she remembered her slain parents. "Many have gone on, others have left." The slight hardening about James' eyes was the only indication of his feelings about Peter.

"In the end, we are gathered here tonight as family." Nodding to his son, he added, "Harry has coined it quite well: Only The Family Matters and we are family." He was silent again as he regarded the people gathered in his room. "I love you all," he told them softly. Holding his goblet aloft, James toasted them all, "To Family."

On her left, Harry took a deep, shaky breath as he held out his goblet. Neville was bright eyed and Susan smiling happily. With a high-level government official as a guardian, it was unlikely the redhead had an active family life. Hermione knew how the Hufflepuff felt for she too had been easily and quickly assimilated into the greater Potter-Black family. Now it seemed that they were adding Longbottom and Lupin to the mix.

Remus smiled as he wound his arm about Alex. With an uncertain smile, Alex lifted her goblet to toast the rest. Of course she was a bit hesitant, but based on the way she looked at Remus, Hermione had no doubts that the two star crossed lovers would work things out.

Sirius and Hestia first toasted each other before raising their goblets to the rest of the room. Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione saw Lily blow James a kiss.

Wrapping her arm around Harry's, Hermione joined her family in celebration, dedication and commitment. In unison, they all proclaimed, "Family!"

.oOo.

Lily was doing her best to focus on the plan. In a few hours, Harry was to commence the third task. As had been their plan for the second task, Harry was to step into the maze on the Quidditch Pitch before stepping out, announcing the completion of his attempt at the task. This time, there was no hostage to circumvent the plan.

Hopefully, nothing else would arise.

Despite James', Remus' and Sirius' confidence in the plan, Lily couldn't help remembering how easily their attempt to keep Harry safe in both the first and second tasks had been bypassed, throwing Harry into the thick of things. Hermione had dealt with this pattern far worse than Lily. It'd been a simple grouse by Harry that set it all in motion, "I wonder what's going to happen this time to shaft me?" Hermione had stiffened at his side, her eyes narrowing.

Hour after hour she'd researched all the previous tasks in the long ago tournaments, compiling a spell list for Harry to learn. She'd even read through the Greek classics for the stories of Theseus and Perseus to try to divine what types of spells would be beneficial for this type of challenge.

Dutifully, Harry had bowed to her will as he learned each spell. He learned them in addition to finishing their seventh year courses, that is.

Both teens were exhausted from the effort they'd put into their studies. Talking it over with Filius, Lily was of the opinion that while the teens would most likely score an Exceeds or better for the practical portion of their NEWTs, they'd most likely fail the written section. The focus of study for the teens had been the practical application of magic in a combat or at least a real world situation. Hermione put forth every effort to embrace and affect a well-rounded study plan, but that was discarded quickly in the face of the pace of their studies. There's a reason it usually takes seven years to prepare a student for their NEWTs.

Either which way, the family was gathered to have a meal together. Lady Augusta and Amelia Bones had joined the greater family for the late lunch. Rauri, who had joined the family for the meal, merely bowed graciously to the additions before expanding the table to accommodate the now twelve diners.

Lily was chatting away with Amelia Bones. They'd only briefly met the one time when returning to the time stream. A no nonsense witch, Lily liked Amelia.

"It was the same day that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named attacked your home," Amelia explained as she stared off to see scenes of long ago. "I was the duty section chief when the Floo call came." Amelia looked into her lap, the emotion just as strong as it had been all those years ago. "It was my brother calling for help. He refused to leave baby Susan or his wife, Julia. He shouted that there were a dozen Death Eaters before the connection terminated."

The slow shake of her head belied the intensity of Amelia's emotions. Lily gently laid her hand on the older witch's arm as Amelia continued the story. "Immediately, I enchanted a portkey before departing with the duty six Aurors. It was a suicide mission - six Aurors against twelve Death Eaters - but…it was my brother. By the time we got there, Julia and Edgar were both dead while their house elf, Polly, was mortally wounded. The little thing had stood in front of the door to Susan's room as the bastards went for the clean sweep. She killed four of the fuckers.

"By the time we got to the house there were nine dead and two wounded Death Eaters. We never could tell if there'd been another perpetrator at the house or if my brother had just miscounted in the confusion and stress…" the Director of the MLE's voice tailed off into silence. The usually confident and strong woman was emotional and vulnerable. Apparently, she'd been much attached to her baby brother and his family.

It was the same story with different characters in a different setting. "So many," Lily murmured. At Amelia's nod, Lily reiterated, "So many uselessly taken by that madman."

Taking a deep breath, Amelia picked up the tale, "So I got my little girl," she smiled brightly as she nodded to the redhead across the table from her. "She's so grown up."

"And in love," Lily added with a smile.

Rolling her eyes, Amelia agreed, "And in love. I expected it, mind you. She and Neville are very powerful - regardless of Augusta's prattle - and they've had a strong attachment for such a long time that I'm surprised it took this long for them to formalize the relationship. Either way," Amelia smiled as she sat back in her chair, taking a sip of her wine, "I approve. He's a good lad."

"He is indeed," Lily agreed. The lull in the conversation allowed her previously distracted mind to refocus on the forthcoming third task. With a shudder, she ruthlessly shoved aside her fears and forebodings.

Harry had mentioned that he still felt that things would be `bad'. Apparently, this Foresight was becoming more active and more refined.

"I see Voldemort and the Death Eaters destroying everything we love," his eyes watered as he looked into his lap. "Even home."

Lily had gently squeezed his shoulder, "Your Dad is already working on that. Rowan Hill will be fine, don't worry." Harry and Hermione had jointly cast a series of wards around the entire property. That was unheard of, given the power requirements of the casting, but The Boy-Who-Lived and The Smartest Witch of the Age had power to spare. In addition, James was working with his goblin contacts to place the property under Gringott's protection. While not perfect, combined with the existing wards, Rowan Hill would be safe.

Despite that reassurance, Lily had to close her eyes to keep from screaming in the tension and fear that spiked deep in her gut. The soft hand on her arm caused her to look to her left. The sympathetically smiling Amelia Bones told her, "I'm not only here because my girl's good friend is in this task. Something is wrong and has been for the past few years. My gut tells me something untoward will happen tonight. I've brought an entire Auror division with me. We'll be ready."

Recognizing the turnabout of their situation, Lily nodded her appreciation. The Aurors helped but Lily was terrified of the unknown. Nothing could assuage that fear until the situation was resolved for better or worse. Hopefully, for the better.

.oOo.

Hermione wouldn't let Harry out of her reach.

All through lunch she kept him at arm's reach, usually with a hand on his arm or leg. After dinner, the family ambled about the grounds for a bit, chatting and whatnot. His hand was firmly ensconced in hers the entire time. At one point, Harry pointedly looked at their joined hands before he whispered to her, "Love, I need to use the loo. Want to come with?"

She'd considered it. After all, he'd been in the girls lavatory on more than one occasion, why shouldn't she go with him?

It was the longest twelve minutes of the day for her. They'd spent the previous two nights together. In her fear, she'd ravished Harry both nights. A small smile curled her lips as she assumed he had no protests. Hermione knew that she was being obsessive and not dealing with the third task very well. The `adults' were all calm and confident about the plan of non-participation in the task. Something deep within her dreaded the event though. She'd been panicked before the first task while calm before the second. Both events turned out to be in line with her feelings.

Shaking her head, she didn't think that she had the Foresight that Harry seemed to be exhibiting, but she did get hunches. There was something to `women's intuition'. All the studying and research she'd done in preparation for this task had prepared Harry to survive being dropped in the middle of the Alps with only his wand.

"God, I hope it's enough," she murmured.

The entire day she'd been touching him trying to establish a physical connection to him as if to tether him to her. She was - admittedly irrationally - afraid that he'd suddenly disappear or have been a phantom of thought in the first place. Neither was tolerable to the young woman. Hermione needed him as the body needs air, sunshine and sustenance; to give, to receive, to love and to live. The pressure and tension had grown all day. When she began to tremble, Harry glanced at her in concern.

The dark haired young man made the excuses, "I need to speak with Hermione. We'll be just over here," as they moved to a secluded section about the lake. After he set her on the small boulder, the green eyed seeker crouched in front of his paramour.

Hermione knew she was a wreck, but couldn't help herself. Didn't they know that the world meant nothing without him? Didn't they know that the sun would refuse to shine, the flowers refuse to bloom and the crops refuse to sprout should he be lost to the winds of time?

Didn't they know?

Looking him in the eye, she hoarsely whispered, "I love you, Harry."

Even amidst her distress, Hermione's heart did a pitter-pat when he smiled at her. "I love you, too."

"I…" she began but the tears welled up. Ruthlessly shoving them aside, she gently grasped each side of his face. Staring into his eyes, she poured every ounce of emotion into her words. "I need you. I want you. I love you. You must come back to me."

Her declaration seemed to settle the maelstrom within a bit. Instead of a hurricane of emotion, she'd settled to a gale.

With tenderness, he stroked her cheek before leaning in to kiss her. It was tender, full of promise and love. Short, it was a kiss of affection, not passion. She closed her eyes as she gently touched her forehead to his. Drawing strength from his presence, his dedication to her - to them - she took a deep, calming breath.

"Marry me, Hermione."

Stunned, she opened her eyes to see him watching her with a pleading expression.

Before she could reply, he pressed on, "This isn't how I wanted to ask. I wanted this grand setting with us all dressed to the nines after a stupendous evening. I'd say something terribly impressive while sweeping you off your feet. I'd give you this enormous ring that would show you how much I adore, esteem and love you."

"Harry," she began but was cut off as he continued on as if she'd said nothing.

"Instead, we're behind a big rock on the south side of the Black Lake while I crouch in mud and you're sad. I don't even have a ring for you."

"Harry…" she tried again to no avail.

"I can't help it, though. I've wanted to ask you for a while, but hadn't the courage." He reiterated her words from earlier, "I…I love you. I need you. I want you."

"Harry, shut up." Hermione chided with a smile through her tears. All through his rant, she was dropped into a different maelstrom of feeling. This new sweep of emotion was of love, happiness and joy. As he stumbled and bumbled his apologies and declarations, she couldn't help but smile. This was Harry: courageous and shy in turn. He would face Jormungandr the Midgard serpent with naught but a harpoon. At the same time, he was the young man who was terrified of being turned away by the witch he loved and who loved him in her turn.

She loved him more than she could say, so she said the only thing she could.

"Yes. Yes, I will marry you."

His face bloomed into a wide smile and she felt her own smile responding to his.

.oOo.

"Wahoo!" James heard from behind the rock. Turning to Lily, he raised his eyebrows in confusion. He saw her smiling with the hint of a tear in her eye. Further confusing him, she beckoned everyone on down the path.

"Let's give them a moment or two," Lily urged as she moved further down the lakeside.

As the group ambled toward the forest, James leaned into Lily, "What just happened?"

Lily smiled as she laid her head on his shoulder, "I believe that our son has taken steps to formalize his relationship with his beloved."

"Oh," James replied, completely lost. After a moment, revelation hit and he brightly added, "Oh!" Half turning back to where Harry and Hermione were still hidden behind the big rock, he asked, Lily, "Really? You think so?"

She nodded.

"Why?"

"Call it a woman's intuition and leave it at that."

James was fully exposed to the `wonders' of the feminine gender so chose to leave it alone. With a bounce in his step, he also chose to ignore the upcoming task in order to revel in the moment. An unpleasant thought occurred to him, "What about her parents?""

The growling reply of, "Fuck them," coincided with his own thoughts so he smiled. Turning to Lily, he verbalized what they'd been talking around.

"Our son is getting married."

.oOo.

Harry had made his way to the front of the maze a few minutes before, so Remus was at loose ends. At his side, Alex and Lily were chatting about who knew what. No idiot, Remus was still lost amidst their deepening discussion regarding potions, ingredients and their effects. Instead, he was people watching.

In front of the entrance to the maze, he saw Albus taking with Minerva and a woman who could only be Olympe Maxime. Next to them, the scowling visage of Igor Karkaroff was very known to him. When James had told the others about `their old friend Igor' being in the castle, Sirius and Remus had had a very serious discussion about paying the man a visit with lethal results. Only their amorphous fear of repercussions on Harry because of Karkaroff's role in the tournament had held them back.

Beyond them, the Ministers for Magic from Britain, France, Germany and Bulgaria had clustered with their assistants and a retinue of security personnel. By his count, the obvious bodyguards numbered thirty-two. Remus was sure there were others under invisibility cloaks or Disillusionment charms or at a distance. He'd heard rumour of the protective details employing snipers for outdoor situations like this. Apparently the anti-mundane bias that was pervasive in the wizarding world was shucked off in the face of security concerns. Remus didn't bother looking about, he was sure he'd not find them. It was their job to be present yet hidden.

Minerva, Alastor, Hagrid and Filius were to be stationed on the four walls of the maze along with a half dozen Aurors on brooms overtop the hedgerows. The champions shouldn't be hurt too badly by some of the beasties patrolling the maze.

Narrowing his eyes, Remus recognized the bellowing roar from the maze as that of a Minotaur. Earlier he'd heard the shrieking cry of a Hippogriff along with the coughing bark of a Dire Wolf. The former Defence Against the Dark Arts professor was very grateful that Harry wasn't going to enter that trap. Who knew what else was in there?

Ludo Bagman bounced to the front of the maze to confer with the Heads of the schools. Remus had to forcibly supress a sneer. The man was a moron who was moving quickly to one labelled `more ear wax than brain'. "Tosser," the Lycanthrope muttered to himself.

"Who?" Alex asked from his side.

"Bagman," he replied while waving a dismissing hand at the man.

She snorted, "Did I ever tell you about the time he felt me up?"

Remus stiffened, "No. You didn't."

Alex rolled her eyes, "Easy there, cave man. It was sixth year and I was heading into the Great Hall for a meal. In the crush of people, I felt a hand squeeze my arse. Turning about, I saw him looking suspiciously innocent as he waved to someone in the hall."

Smiling now, for he knew his woman, Remus asked, "What did you do?"

Her answering smile was a tad feral. "Hit him in the mouth. Knocked out three teeth. Every time I saw him after that he suddenly found something to do in the other direction."

Remus laughed, but quieted down when the magically amplified voice of Albus Dumbledore requested the crowds to settle and take their seats. Minerva and Alastor moved to Dumbledore's side, Alastor brushing past Harry as he did so.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," Dumbledore intoned with his friendly gravity. A magical spotlight illuminated him in the growing darkness. "We are gathered here this fine evening to witness the conclusion of this thrilling tournament. Our champions have displayed courage, ingenuity and dedication. For that, I believe we can all applaud their efforts." The stately old man led the applause as he half turned to where the champions were paraded in a line. Remus smothered a smile. Harry looked much less than pleased by the entire affair. His scowl told volumes.

"Doesn't look too happy, does he?" Alex's voice tickled his ear.

"Not too much," Remus agreed with a chuckle.

"The leader in points for our tournament is Mister Potter from Hogwarts. As the leader, he shall be the first champion to start into our hedgerow maze. The others shall follow him into the labyrinth based on the overall point standing," he swept his arm in a wide motion, encompassing the pitch. "There are various obstacles placed in the maze. Overhead," he flicked his wand, revealing a jumbotron sized monitor that was divided into quadrants. "You can follow the champions as they make their way to their destination. At the centre of the maze is the TriWizard Cup. The first champion to the cup wins the day."

Ludo Bagman edged his way into the spotlight that Dumbledore occupied. The glare from the old man froze the Head of the Department of Games and Sports. Apparently, Albus had learned about some of Ludo's less than savoury behaviours. Whatever the washed up Beater was going to do or say was lost as he gulped before edging away.

"Tosser," Remus repeated in disgust.

Alex smiled as she scooted closer to him. As she leaned against him, he revelled in the renewed closeness with his mate. It was as if the years apart had never happened. Turning to look at her, the pang of guilt that involuntarily ran down his spine reminded him that they indeed had been apart and it'd been his fault. There was still the hint of rings about her eyes and despite their (eventual) joyful reunion and the subsequent wonderful weeks, there was still an aura of pain about her that was visible to those who could see.

"So we shall begin!" Dumbledore announced with a ringmaster's flourish.

Shaking off his remorse, Remus refocused on the task. A last glance at the blonde healer at his side reminded the Lycanthrope that Rome wasn't built in a day nor would their relationship be repaired in a few happy weeks.

The cannon blast announced Harry's `entry' into the maze. On the jumbotron, there was a clear picture. Off to his right, Remus heard James mutter, "Come on lad. In and out does the trick." Which is exactly what Harry did.

Harry took three steps into the maze, his wand raised in a defensive position. In his mind, Remus counted, one, two, three, four, five…. When Remus got to five, Harry stepped out of the maze, standing to the side so the other contestants could enter the maze.

Remus saw Dumbledore nod resignedly at Harry's action. Ignoring the old man, Harry cast a quick Loudspeaker charm on himself. "To everyone in the stands," The Boy-Who-Lived announced. "I was forcibly entered into this tournament by person or persons unknown. As such, I stand aside to allow the real champions the opportunity to compete in this final task without the interference of my presence and actions."

Short, sweet and to the point. Remus nodded to himself as he heard murmured approval from the others in the stands. Seeing that his Little One was safe, Remus exhaled loudly as he leaned back on his seat. Alex's soothing hand on his shoulder brought his attention to the tension in his body. Remus thought he'd been rather laissez faire about the task, but it seemed his body knew better.

"That's that," he muttered. He heard Sirius exhale loudly before muttering something to Hestia. Probably something similar to his own sentiments. Peering into the early evening gloom, Remus found Hermione sitting at the end of the row, next to Lily. The two witches appeared to be holding hands, their expressions tense.

Did they know something he didn't or was it simple nerves?

Down at the entrance to the maze, Harry chatted with Viktor and Fleur. Cedric had already entered the maze. Fleur tossed her head in laughter while Harry and Viktor were smiling widely. It was good to see his `nephew' interacting outside of their little family. Remus realized they'd isolated themselves quite a bit over the last seven months or so since James and Lily had returned to them. Part of him didn't give a damn but the other side - the Professor side - realized that they all needed to expand their interactions. A closed cycle withers and dies, after all.

As the cannon fired again and Viktor gave Fleur and Harry a wave as he sprinted into the maze, Remus couldn't find himself caring too much about their outside relationships. The greater family had been healing from extraordinary pain, suffering and distress that had been inflicted for years. As a dog curls into itself to lick its wounds, the Family had pulled into itself.

The last cannon fired, leaving Harry alone as Fleur followed Cedric and Viktor into the maze.

"Do you think we can go down there?" James asked.

Turning to face his friend, Remus shrugged. "I don't see why not. I'm sure Albus wouldn't care and as we saw earlier, I think he'd browbeat any Ministry hack that complains."

As the family stood en masse to head to Harry's side, Sirius added, "Just stay out of the way of those security blokes. They don't look too friendly."

Murmurs of agreement accompanied the inevitable "Excuse me," as they shuffled down the aisle to the steps. Four short minutes later, they were all congregating about Harry. Remus smiled when he saw that Hermione had Harry's hand firmly in her own.

Padfoot mocked, "How are you champ? Was that too much for you?"

With amused gravity, Harry wiped his brow with his free hand as he exclaimed, "Whew! That was a bit of a chore. Get us a bitter, will you Godfather?"

Everyone laughed as Lily's eyes narrowed. Lily had been hell on underage drinkers in school during her years as a Prefect. Remus tried to spring to Harry's rescue. "How about a butterbeer instead?"

With a shrug, Harry mildly protested, "But Padfoot promised me a night on the town and he was buying."

Now Lily and Hermione were glaring at the visibly nervous Sirius. Trying to change the topic, Sirius asked, "So are we heading home tonight or tomorrow morning?"

"Tonight and don't think you're off the hook, Black. We'll talk later," Lily hissed.

"Aww, Lily, c'mon," Padfoot whined.

James clapped his cousin on the shoulder, "Get your skates on Padfoot, you're fucked."

This led to uproarious laughter from the Marauders. Remus fondly remembered that phrase being their general admission that McGonagall had them dead to rights and there was no evasion possible. Based on Lily's expression, Padfoot needed big skates.

The atmosphere lightened as they waited patiently for the task to end. Occasionally a screech or explosion from the maze stopped all conversation for a moment. Each time it happened, Remus found himself looking to Harry as if to reassure himself that the young man who meant so much to them all was still with them.

Finally, there was the sound of trumpets. The hedge dropped, showing Fleur Delacour standing in the centre of the maze, her uniform singed but the smile on her face showed she didn't care a whit. Cedric Diggory was in a full on fight with a King Acromantula while Viktor Krum was tangling with three Hippogriffs.

Out of the corner of his eye, Remus noted Hagrid rushing to Krum's aid while Minerva and Filius began to herd the Acromantula into a pen that the Transfiguration mistress had conjured. Unseen `til now, a series of handlers rushed the pitch to subdue the previously identified creatures and what appeared to be a Sphinx, a Vampire, some odd cross of a firecrab and an oversized scorpion and, lastly, a Quintaped. The professional in him admired the choice of creatures to be obstacles, but the guardian in him screamed at what could have been.

As the students and adults in the stands began to applaud for the victorious witch, everything went to hell. Quickly.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Instinctively, Remus fell to the ground, pulling Alex with him. Rolling on top of her to protect her with his body, he heard the screaming begin.

"Avada Kedavra!"

The cacophony from the stands and the surroundings added to confusion caused by the flashes of green death intermingled with the colours of the other just as deadly spells being cast. The screams nearly deafened the hyper alert Lycanthrope. Squinting through the pain, Remus tried to make out just what the bloody hell was going on.

"Avada Kedavra!"

An errant spell hit the stands that held spectators and students. The cacophony increased exponentially as shards of oak splinters scattered into the crowd, spreading their lethal message. Fires started, shedding inconstant light that further confused the situation. Remus ducked his head as he felt his back peppered with debris.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Looking up, he saw the security forces falling like wheat. In their midst, their fellows were firing Killing Curses at point blank range. Rage boiled up inside of Remus. Not so much for the particular loss of life, but that the war had come so soon. They all knew it was coming, But not yet, he complained to himself with bitterness.

As he watched, Cornelius Fudge fell, his dead face frozen in surprise.

The Bulgarian Minister for Magic was already dead while the German and French Ministers had been portkeyed away, their security details bristling as they searched for more assassins. Now that the Bulgarian Minister was dead, no one seemed to pay his corpse any mind. Remus had a moment of sick fascination to watch the head of the French security detail, as he fought an opponent in hand to hand combat, stand on the face of the fallen Minister.

Looking to his right, Moony saw Harry lying on top of Hermione while James and Lily crawled to the young couple's side. Hestia lay on her side, her arms over her head. Sirius…where was he?

The barking of Padfoot caught Remus' attention. "No…" he groaned in fear. Sirius was stupid enough to go charging into the fight without thinking.

Across the way, the big grim had ripped the arm off one of the attackers and had moved on to the next. Beside him, Albus Dumbledore waded into the fray, his face a mask of cold, efficient fury. Snap conjuring a boulder overhead of his opponent, he crushed the man. His Piercing charm drilled a hole in the breastbone of the next man. A wide area Stunning spell brought down nearly the whole group. With the mass of people on the ground, Remus saw a panting Amelia Bones across the way, her wand in hand as she stood over a fallen opponent.

"Remus let me up!" Alex shouted from underneath him.

"Not yet," he growled at her. The wolf within screamed to protect his mate. Not since the last war had he felt this strongly about anything and it rocked him a bit. The last time had been while shopping with Alex for Harry's first birthday gift; the Death Eaters had attacked Diagon Alley. Four of them had paid for their folly that day.

His eyes scanned the area for further threats. Alastor was stumping toward Albus. Minerva and Filius moved to herd the panicking students up to the school. Remus could see Sprout, Pomfrey, Vector, Snape and Babbling trying to gain control, but over four hundred teens and preteens were in the process of losing their collective head.

"Dammit Remus, there are people hurt!" Alex protested.

Regaining his own head, Remus stood, allowing Alex to sprint to the battlefield to try to save those that could be saved. Forcibly, he stopped his hands from shaking. The adrenalin had flooded his system and was quickly being flushed.

The fierce expression on Albus Dumbledore's face took the Lycanthrope aback. For all the time that Remus had known the old headmaster, the man had preached tolerance and capture of their opponents. Tonight, though, he'd killed at least two men. Something had obviously changed.

As Alex sprinted away withdrawing her shrunken bag from a pocket, Remus saw Sirius returning to the group, his shirt covered in blood. Hestia stifled a scream as she ran to her fiancée. Moony heard Padfoot murmur, "I'm fine. It's not my blood."

Hermione was in Harry's arms. Despite her involvement in Harry's `adventures' through the years, she'd never seen a person killed before this evening. Remus could hear Harry's murmured, "It's Ok. I'm here and it's ok."

Lily was rubbing Hermione's arm while James had his arm about Harry's shoulder, whispering something in his son's ear.

Things went from bad to truly shitty. Alastor turned on the Potter group, his battered face contorted in rage and hatred. Nearly snarling, he spat, "The Dark Lord shall rise!"

Harry, Hermione, Lily and James disappeared. Remus could only gape; realizing that the voice activated portkey that Alastor had surreptitiously placed on Harry earlier had just been triggered. Raising his wand, he turned to Alastor only to see the man grin maniacally before disappearing.

In panic, he screamed, "SIRIUS!"

.oOo.

James' feet hit the ground with a jarring thud. It isn't easy to do much while travelling by portkey, but he had repeatedly screamed to his family, "DRAW YOUR WAND!" When he felt the impact of their landing, he blindly cast a wide area Stunning spell even before he could make out where they were.

Silence.

Crouching low, he backed up until he felt someone directly behind him doing the same thing. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lily's distinctive red hair. Reaching for her, he grabbed her arm, pulling her to his side. It seemed like just yesterday that Voldemort was breaking down the door to the rental cottage. Here they were again. There was a rising foreboding of despair in James. Last time they'd been cornered by the Dark Lord, the Potters had been trounced with ease. Maybe it was social conditioning, perhaps it was ingrained in his DNA, but James lips curled back as the aggressive feelings rose within him to protect his family. Every fibre of James' being screamed in defiance at being unable to defend his family again.

"Harry? Hermione?" he whispered harshly. Looking about, he saw that they were in a graveyard. It was small, but well populated so it was most likely a family or clan resting place.

"I'm here," he heard Hermione from directly behind him.

"Here," his son replied from near Hermione.

"Good, let's get the fuck out of here." James pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and incanted, "Portus," without taking his eyes off his surroundings. The better part of valour, it seemed, was retreat. They were in an unknown place with unknown opponents with no backup at hand. A very bad situation but at the same time, it was eerie. There was no one about. He expected a hostile welcoming committee so this empty silence was a bit unnerving.

Everyone clustered about, placing a finger on the handkerchief. "Activate," James said with a rush of relief.

Nothing happened.

"Not again," Lily groaned from his side.

Not wasting time, James cast Remus' Communication charm. Summoning Remus and Sirius should also bring the cavalry. A thought occurred to him so he called, "Rauri."

Nothing. Their loyal house elf either couldn't hear him or was being prevented from joining them. The net result was the same. They were alone.

"Dad, can we please get the hell out of here?"

"Seconded," Hermione added.

"Follow me," James replied. Glancing at Lily, he saw the ferociousness in her gaze. There would be no gentleness in any exchange of spells this evening.

"Ahhhh!" Harry screamed as he fell to his knees. His wand in the grass, he held his hands to his forehead. Panic flooded James. Harry had never shown this kind of pain. He'd had broken bones, concussion, cuts galore and never whimpered. Now, he was writhing on the ground in agony.

"Stupefy!"

Glaring at Hermione, James nearly snarled before his brain caught up with reality. Harry was incapacitated and the only way to move him in an easy manner was to have him unconscious. Lily scooped up Harry's wand as James turned on his son's intended.

Instead of the curse he was going to hurl at the teen, James pointed as he told her, "You Levitate him." Turning to Lily, he added, "You've got the rear. We're running the hell out of these wards."

"Oh, really."

.oOo.

Hermione was furious and terrified at the same time. It seemed that all her fears were being realized. Once again, Harry was Fate's plaything. She was sick and tired of her fiancé - Fiance she rejoiced for a moment - she was tired of him being tossed about as if he were a ragdoll held in the chubby clutches of a three year old.

Turning to the sound of the voice, she sneered. She had expected Lucius Malfoy to be here, but this wasn't he. The man who was standing directly behind them, kitted out in his Death Eater robes, was lumpish who spoke in an East End accent. Hermione felt James stiffen in recognition as Lily snarled, "Carrow."

"Long time, there Potter. I don't think you'll be going anywhere any time soon. See, the Dark Lord wants to have a chat with you once he's feeling up to snuff." His wheezing gasping that passed for laughter reminded Hermione of an asthmatic after they'd finished smoking a fag.

The rage boiled and roiled inside Hermione. The man's insolent draw and perverse enjoyment of the family's situation, combined with the now quiescent Harry at her side fomented a `situation'. With a snarl, she snapped her wand up. The silent Reductor curse left her wand before any of the others had processed the fact that Hermione had raised her wand at all.

It was amazing, she thought later, what a truly brassed off and motivated witch could do. Amycus Carrow was vaporized by the force of her spell.

The man exploding in a mist of red with bits of gore falling about energized the seen and unseen. James, Lily and Hermione turned away from where the Death Eater had stood and began to run. Hermione hoped that they were headed toward the edge of the wards and not into the middle of the Death Eaters, but tried to focus on keeping the floating Harry from slamming into a headstone as they ran.

Behind them, she heard people running and shouting. Despite her pounding feet, harsh breath and grunting in effort as she hurdled a low grave marker, she heard one voice that she'd been imagining in her nightmares for some time now.

"Get me the boy! We must have him!"

It could only be Voldemort. Lily had told her how he spoke of himself using the `royal collective'. That oddity of speech combined with the bone chilling tone gave away the speaker's identity.

With a deft move, she placed Harry on the ground before conjuring a granite dome overtop him. "James! Lily!" she called. The-Parents-Who-Lived pulled up. Seeing her plan, they ran back to cover the helpless Harry.

Casting the Springboard charm, Hermione jumped a good twenty feet in the air. Twisting about, she cast a chain of curses across their back trail. Reductor, Siege Engine, Reductor, Explosive, Concussion, Reductor. The Cushioning charm she spot cast at her feet let her land softly. Spinning about, Hermione Vanished the conjured granite dome before sprinting off, Harry in tow. James and Lily covered her retreat, their spells adding to Hermione's efforts.

Behind them, they left a nightmare. The area affect curses had cratered the landscape while killing seven Death Eaters. Four recent recruits had been jellied as Hermione's Concussion curse crushed them as if they'd been in an hydraulic press. The area was ruined and any pursuit from behind was severely hampered - as had been Hermione's intent.

All the conditioning and running were paying off for The Smartest Witch of the Age. Now that she was warmed up a bit, she transfigured her robes to shorts so as to move easier. Vaulting a headstone, she found herself face to face with four enormous, bestial men.

"Hello, pretty," the leader leered. Standing forth, he was huge. His foul reek reached Hermione's nose causing her to recoil in disgust. The man had not only not bathed in weeks, but there was an overlying smell. A rotten corpse smell. Then she noticed, he had several mouldering fingers on a cord about his neck. Repulsive trophies of a sort.

James and Lily caught up, Lily puffing with the exertion. Prongs stepped in front of Hermione as he snarled, "Greyback. I'd hoped you'd died in the years we were gone."

"No such luck, pretty boy. I'm too damn mean to die. You, however…"

The sentence was left unfinished as the unchanged Lycanthrope hurled himself at James. Before Hermione could react, one of the other men had her in his grips. To her side Lily grappled with the third man.

That left the fourth running away with the unconscious Harry over his shoulder.

Once again, the rage roiled and boiled. Pulling with all her might, Hermione freed her left hand. Shifting her weight, she shot forward like a snake, striking out at the man. The vicious jab hit the Lycanthrope square in the throat crushing his windpipe. He was dead, but didn't know it yet. His eyes wide in pain and surprise, the now choking Lycanthrope reflexively reached for his throat as he doubled over. Without pause, Hermione kicked him in the stones. Dropping like a bag of old shit, he left the way clear for Hermione to follow the man who had carried off Harry.

Glancing to her left, she caught James' gaze. "Go!" he shouted. "We'll be fine!" To give truth to his statement, Lily's wand flashed, Banishing her attacker across the clearing. Hurriedly, Hermione Summoned Harry's wand from his mother. As the Holly and Phoenix feather slapped into her hand, Hermione stuffed it into her waistband.

Not turning back, Hermione sprinted back the way she'd come as she heard the crunch of the Banished Lycanthrope breaking his back as he hit a tree.

.oOo.

The jostling woke him. Harry forcibly supressed a groan as he came to his senses. It felt as if someone had used a hammer on his head and followed it up with a few swift kicks right in the centre of his forehead. Squinting, he tried to make out his surroundings.

It was hard to see anything as he was hurled from the shoulder of whoever had been holding him. Topsy turvey went the world until he had a most unpleasant alighting upon Terra Firma. The violent landing forced the air from his lungs, leaving him gasping.

"Quickly! Get his blood!" the high, cold voice of Lord Voldemort commanded.

Dizzy, Harry felt a sharp pain on the back of his hand.

"That's enough! Do it! Finish the ritual!"

Harry raised his head as the dizziness began to ebb. His nut still hurt like hell, but if Voldemort was close enough to hear, he was close enough to kill. Determination welled up from within to finish this contest of wills. He would kill Voldemort or die trying.

There was a splash as a…thing…was reverently placed in the cauldron by one of the masked Death Eaters.

"Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken, you will resurrect your foe," a silently weeping Peter Pettigrew intoned as he dashed the bloody knife overtop an enormous cauldron.

Harry looked about in dismay. Ringing the cauldron, Peter and himself were a dozen or so Death Eaters in full regalia. As surreptitiously as possible, Harry felt for his wand. Not in his holster. Nor his waist. Not in his boot. Damn.

Looking about, Harry felt a mix of defiance and despair. He'd not go easily for he'd not sell his life cheaply. Goodbye, Hermione. I wish…I wish so much he thought to himself.

"Flesh of the servant, willingly given, you will revive your master," Peter intoned. A Death Eater left the circle, approaching the cauldron with noticeable trepidation. Finally, he extended his arm over the magically boiling potion. Harry was confused at the kind expression on Pettigrew's face. The confusion rapidly became revulsion when, without a change of expression, Pettigrew cut off the man's hand. The splash of the severed hand falling into the cauldron made Harry gag.

Once again, Harry wondered at the fanatical devotion displayed by the Death Eaters. Why? What did Voldemort offer that so inspired his followers?

Everyone's attention was on the ritual, so Harry began to slowly inch his way toward the closest edge of the circle. Despite his resolve to confront Voldemort, he knew he was a dead man should he challenge him while surrounded by Death Eaters. Harry needed help. Unfortunately, he only made it a few feet when he heard Pettigrew call, "Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son."

A flick of his wand allowed the kind faced Pettigrew to Summon bone dust from the grave of Voldemort's father. What is with him? Harry wondered.

The Boy-Who-Lived was about five feet from the ring of Death Eaters when the cauldron exploded with light. Dazzling white light shot up like a rocket causing all the assembled to look away lest they be blinded. When it cleared, he could clearly see that the Disillusioned form of Hermione was standing over him.

She had come.

.oOo.

After casting the Disillusionment charm on herself, Hermione had dashed into the ring of Death Eaters just as the cauldron flared with light. Standing over Harry, she ducked down, shoving his wand into his hand.

"Can you stand?" she whispered.

His reply was to Disillusion himself.

She held his hand as he slowly stood. From their experience with Master Filius and Remus, if they moved too quickly while Disillusioned, they gave away their position as if they were still visible.

"Robe me."

The terrifying voice caused Hermione to look up. A naked skeletal thin…being…stood before her. It was sexless and waxy white. Red eyes glowed as hands like skeletal spiders grasped at nothing. She watched in horrifying fascination as Pettigrew draped a plain black robe over its shoulders.

"C'mon," Harry murmured. Nodding, she slowly turned away.

"Harry Potter," the cold voice of Voldemort called. Hermione flinched as the sound of his voice was like metal being torn mixed with fingernails on a chalkboard. "Where are you and your little mudblood going? Our party is just beginning."

.oOo.

James and Lily finished with their attackers. As the headless corpse of Fenrir Greyback fell to the ground, Prongs looked to his wife. Her grimace and sweaty face alarmed him. "Can you go on?" he asked as he moved to her side.

Nodding, Lily gasped, "Give me a minute. Go on. I'll catch up."

Now he was really alarmed. "What happened?"

"I think…I think I'm losing the baby."

Horrified, James' eyes widened. Lily was just over two months along and they'd told no one. In fact, he'd not even thought about her pregnancy this evening until now. Kneeling in front of her bent over form, he cajoled, "Let's lie you down. Come on. We'll get you to St Mungo's. We should be outside the portkey ward now."

"No," she moaned even as she obeyed James' instructions. "Harry," she protested. "Must help him."

"I'll go. You take care of our second child." James and Lily had a marriage of partnership. As such, he'd never directed his wife to do anything, nor she him. This was one time, though, that he was going to ignore that rule. When he set his jaw and stared at her, James could see the resignation in her expression as she nodded in agreement.

Snatching a leaf, he tucked it into her hand. "Portus," he incanted before immediately commanding, "Activate." He breathed a sigh of relief when she soundlessly disappeared. Standing, he cast the Communication charm to Rauri, directing him to join Lily at the hospital. Between him casting the privately held spell and the destination being a public facility, he doubted that the elf would be warded against joining Lily.

Turning to head in the direction that Hermione had run, he heard a series of pops. His wand raised, he turned to see Sirius, Remus, Albus, Minerva and a few Aurors he recognized. One was a big black fellow, Shacklebolt or somewhat and the other was his distant cousin, little Nymphadora, Andi's daughter.

"Where are they?" Sirius snarled.

Ignoring his cousin, James turned to Remus, "Can you cast the spell to ask Alex to join Lily at the hospital? She'll be in Casualty. Rauri should be with her."

Remus didn't say anything, just concentrated as he cast the spell. All frowned as the earth shook. Looking at his friends, James realized what had just happened. Harry or Hermione had just cast the Earth Shaker spell.

"What the fuck Prongs?" Sirius demanded.

Ignoring Sirius again, he turned to the group, "Harry and Hermione are up ahead," he gestured in the direction that the witch had pursued her intended. "I've no idea of the opposition is, but it must be significant."

All gave solemn nods of understanding, even Sirius had calmed. Looking to Albus as the most experienced fighter, he ignored the flare of his resentment towards the old man as he proposed, "Sirius, Minerva and I should transform to scout ahead. You and the rest move up the path until you see the headstone that looks like a huge falcon. We'll rendezvous with you there in two minutes."

Albus nodded, "Be careful, James. I'm sure that Peter has told Voldemort's forces about your animagus forms."

James nodded as he was shifting forms. By the time the stag looked up, the Grim was at his side. Prongs indicated to the east with his rack, Padfoot giving a small yip as he bounded off to reconnoitre. Stealthily, Minerva shot down the direct path, her colouring and size hiding her nearly immediately in the early evening darkness.

Without looking back, Prongs bounded off to the west, letting loose his full speed. The stones and trees went past in a blur as Prongs focused on what lay ahead, his fear for his son and Hermione drove him faster. He could hear shouting and screams. Through the trees and headstones, he could see flashes of light. Leaping over a headstone, he found a man in Death Eater robes standing in front of him

"What the…" the man began, but the exclamation was cut off as Prongs lowered his head and charged.

Eight points of his magnificent rack ran the man through and gored him. The Death Eater's heart, lungs and stomach punctured, causing the man to die in seconds.

Shaking his head to clear his antlers, Prongs bounded off toward the commotion. Racing down a small path, he began to distinguish individual voices. It didn't seem like there was time to backtrack to the rendezvous. He flowed from Prongs to James in a fluid second. Casting Remus' handy spell, he sent to Albus the position of the fighting and that the reserve force should come up immediately. Repeating the spell to Padfoot and Minerva, he turned back to the fighting. His blood ran cold when he heard Hermione scream, "HARRY!" With utter disregard for himself, he sprinted forward, casting Blasting curses as he went.

.oOo.

"Where are you and your little mudblood going? Our party is just beginning."

It was completely ridiculous. Harry was surrounded by Death Eaters. A reborn Lord Voldemort had his gaze fixed firmly on him. Yet, here he was getting his back up as Voldemort called Hermione that word.

Taking a page from Sirius' book, Harry adopted an air of nonchalance. He had to buy time for his parents and others to arrive. With Hermione at his side, he might be able to take Voldemort, but not if they had to deal with a dozen or so black robed lackeys at the same time.

"I always knew you were a fool, Tom, but didn't know you were so vulgar and lower class, as well. I mean, really, using such language is just so unnecessary."

Harry could feel Hermione's shocked stare as she turned to look at him. Harry had to swallow forcibly as the silence from Voldemort grew. The wizard's rage was nearly visible, but Harry had to buy for time. Turning about, Harry made a show of counting. "…twelve, thirteen…seventeen all told." Turning back to the glowering Dark Lord, harry mocked, "You need seventeen followers to subdue two teenagers." Nodding his head as if he were musing over the information, he mumbled, "Must be a lack of magical capability. Granted, we're very good…"

"Enough Potter. You are just as amusing as your father attempted to be. Your end shall be very similar to his."

"Oh, you mean being sent into the future with my lovely Hermione?"

The Reductor curse at Harry's feet silenced him. As the debris spattered about him and Hermione, Voldemort hissed, "No. We are tired of playing games with the house of Richmond. You and your parents shall die."

Slowly, the Dark Lord began to pace. "You see, We've learned quite a bit during Our time of banishment." Glaring at the Death Eaters, he bit out, "We've learned that some are faithful while others are not." Turning his attention back on Harry, he added, "And We've learned that my previous approach to domination of this island was flawed."

He stopped; staring at Harry like a snake regards its meal, "What do you know of Our last rise, young Potter?"

Continuing with the bored tone, Harry inspected his fingernails, "That you attempted to dominate the country through asymmetrical warfare combined with blackmail and the Imperius curse while exploiting the long held biases and prejudices of the established governing body."

With a chilling smile, Voldemort nodded, "Well said, young one. You have studied. We have learned from Our mistakes. As we speak, Our minions or their Imperius'd puppets are executing Our will."

Harry's eyes narrowed as he heard Hermione's sharp intake of breath. "The bills," Harry murmured.

"Yes. My, my, you are bright. Just like your parents. Very smart, magically powerful," the light and complimentary tone turned to a snarl as Voldemort added, "And enthralled by mudblood trash."

"But yes, the bills," Voldemort began again as he regained his composure. "All those who voted against those ridiculous bills that Joseph and Lucius introduced made the list."

"The list of those to be executed," Hermione elaborated, speaking for the first time, her tone of shocked horror.

With the expression of a well-fed crocodile, Voldemort smiled. "Yes."

Resuming his pacing, the Dark Lord gloated, "We expect most, if not all the list to be ready for the undertakers come morning. By now, Our supporters will be the majority in the sitting Wizengamot. Most, if not all, of the Department Heads should be dead alongside the `glorious' Minister." Voldemort's sneer gave lie to his words of appreciation.

"Come tomorrow, We'll be directing the government of magical Great Britain. It shall even be legal," his chuckle was unnerving. "Unfortunately, you'll be dead so you can't enjoy my triumph."

Harry was numb. He had no reason to doubt Voldemort. The plan was convoluted and yet simple enough to work. Most of the Heirs for the seats wouldn't be sat until the existing members called for their seating. In the meantime, the Voldemort controlled Wizengamot would pass any law they liked.

Yet in front of him was the source of all the evil. The numbness began to give way to fury. It must have shown on his face, for the Dark Lord clucked his tongue in amusement.

"Are you angry, Harry? Do you hate Us?" Voldemort asked with mock concern. "Oh, dear. Whatever shall We do now?"

The chortles and sycophantic noises from the onlookers reminded Harry of his surroundings. He couldn't win. Even should he kill Voldemort, the seventeen- or more- Death Eaters would cut him down.

Slim fingers entwined in his, "I love you, Harry."

Closing his eyes to stifle the tears that threatened, Harry replied, "As I love you, Hermione."

"How sweet."

Harry opened his eyes, the despair banished by the raging fury. "Do you mind?" he demanded of the deformed wizard.

"Enough of this twaddle," Voldemort announced with a flourish. Drawing his wand from the inside of his robes, the newly reborn wizard told Harry, "We do believe it's time for you to die, young man."

Reflexively, Harry and Hermione took a step away from the other. Forgoing emotion, feelings and regret, Harry fell into the repetitively drilled practice. He already knew what his and Hermione's first four spells would be.

"Now!" he shouted and began.

Earth Shaker.

He squatted in place, jabbing his wand into the earth as he incanted "Terra Motus!" The world quavered like a ride at an amusement park. In his excited state, Harry overpowered the spell, inducing an earthquake measuring 10.6 on the Richter scale. From his kneeling position, he saw Voldemort and his Death Eaters fall to the ground as trees toppled and the huge mausoleum collapse on itself.

Looking up, he saw Hermione overhead at the apogee of her leap. She began to cast the Reductor curse as fast as possible. In front of him, clumps of Death Eaters were blown to pieces and huge craters formed where she missed.

Fire.

Shouting the incantation, "Infernalis," Harry swept his wand in front of him. The blaze burst from his wand like a wave, incinerating all that stood in its path. Through the flames, Harry saw the risen Dark Lord cast a shield of some kind that protected him. Two Death Eaters were turned to ash, though.

Mass Transfiguration coupled with Compulsion.

Without pause, Harry whipped his wand in a complicated motion. At the end, a dozen of the Headstones were transfigured into wolves. A simple Compulsion charm had them all sprinting at Voldemort to rend, tear and kill.

Hermione landed next to Harry, immediately shielding them both. Five spells whined off her Bunker shield just as it formed. Giving her a wordless nod of appreciation, Harry moved on to the next preplanned spell.

Sleeping.

When Remus had suggested this as the finale to their immediate assault, Harry had looked askance at his Uncle Moony. Remus' reply of, "It's quite hard to kill you when the opposition is asleep," had made sense. It was also an easy to cast area affect spell that couldn't be shielded.

Waving his wand like a lasso, Harry shouted, "Somnus," before turning to the now asleep witch at his side. A quick Reviving spell woke Hermione.

Glancing about, Harry felt like he was standing in the eighth circle of hell. There were pits of fire that consumed the sinners as others struggled to climb out of the rents in the earth. There were no trees standing, nor any headstones. The area for a quarter mile round had been ravaged by his magical assault.

Fires raged as Death Eaters screamed in agony. There was a bubbling hope that he may have been successful. Voldemort could actually be dead. The shadow of the spectre showed in the flames, catching Harry's attention. Moving slowly, but gaining shape, The Boy-Who-Lived couldn't help but stare. Step, step, step the figure resolved itself until the form of Lord Voldemort emerged from the flames.

There was a small tear in his robes, but he was otherwise unharmed. The glare from his inhuman red eyes scared Harry as nothing to date had ever done.

With a negligent flick of his wand, the ten or so surviving Death Eaters woke.

The curl of Voldemort's lip showed that playtime was over. Harry raised his wand to the Flitwick defence position. Named after his master, the position allowed for a fighter to smoothly transition to six different shields, as well as, conjuration of physical shields.

"Avada Kedavra!" the Dark Lord incanted with a shout, his wand pointed at Harry.

Dodging to the left, Harry cast as he fell. Casting the Advanced Shield spell had no effect as Voldemort's Killing curse passed through it, just missing Harry.

Jumping to his feet, Harry dodged another hex of unknown identity before diving behind a fallen gravestone. The Bone Exploding hex left his wand before he fell.

It missed Voldemort, Harry's aim off due to his movement, but the Death Eater directly behind the Dark Lord suffered the effects of the curse. His back to the conflict, the man's spine exploded outward.

Harry ignored the man's death throes as Voldemort ripped off a string of curses that Harry could only dodge. Most the dark haired teen didn't recognize, but he did see the Entrail Expelling curse mixed into the attack.

Rolling away from the attack, he heard Hermione engage the now awake Death Eaters. Her transfigured wolves were having far better success than Harry's had. Casting the Barrier spell, Harry popped to his feet. The orange wall sprang into life as a half dozen spells splattered on its surface. Harry narrowed his eyes at his nemesis. Across the way, Voldemort nodded approvingly at Harry's choice of spell. "Very nice," he could hear the former head boy mutter.

As Harry couldn't cast through the barrier any more than Voldemort could, he began to use his newfound skill in transfiguration to his advantage. Four tigers, a lion and three bears swarmed out from behind Harry's spell as it began to fade.

Refocusing on his opponent, Harry was reminded why Albus Dumbledore respected the magical ability and might of Lord Voldemort. While Harry was busy, Voldemort cast a temporary ward that incinerated organic material. Instead of having to engage and destroy the transfigured animals, the ward turned them to ash before it faded.

When the Barrier spell fell, there was a moment where the two regarded one another. Then Voldemort moved, and Harry's vision went black.

.oOo.

"HARRY!" Hermione shrieked as her fiancé fell to Voldemort's curse. It wasn't the Killing curse, the colour was wrong, but she didn't know what it was.

Without thought, she turned on the now laughing wizard. Her wand seemed to rise of its own accord. Instinctively, she attacked the Dark Lord. Years later, she would still be unable to recount what she'd cast. Only in a pensieve was anyone able to discern even half of her spells, she cast so fast.

On the receiving end of this avalanche of magic, Voldemort's laughter swiftly became concern. The distraught witch watched his face shift from laughter to concentration to something approaching fear.

Blinding, Reductor, Binding, Bone Breaking, Reductor, Piercing, Siege Engine.

Voldemort shielded with spells Hermione had never seen. His movement fluid, he edged toward a path that led from the clearing.

Redoubling her efforts, Hermione grimaced with the effort. Changing up the pattern, Hermione tried to transfigure the Dark Lord into a parrot but he dodged the spell. The Battering Ram hex was shielded with a purplish area affect spell that created an enormous shattering sound as if a thousand oaks had just exploded. Drawing her reserves, she cast Chain Lightning.

Panting at the effort from her high powered casting, she grimly smiled as one fork of her attack struck the Dark Lord on the leg. His screams were chatters as electricity shrieked through his newly reconstituted body. Falling to the ground, his body shook and convulsed as the electricity found its ground.

Her hands on her knees, The Smartest Witch of the Age shuffled to stand over her fallen betrothed. A corner of her consciousness heard James and Sirius shouting her name, but her focus was entirely on the smoking Dark Lord. Part of her wanted to fall on her knees, weeping for her fallen lover. The more rational aspect of her knew that this wasn't over until they'd verified that Lord Voldemort was well and truly dead.

Impossibly, he rose.

With wide eyes, she met his eye and trembled. It was evident that he was furious at her for injuring him so, exposing vulnerability before his followers. His hard gaze moved to the side and Hermione heard a voice that caused relief to flood her body.

"Hello, Tom."

Albus Dumbledore strode into view, interposing himself between the Dark Lord and the overwhelmed teens.

"Dumbledore."

The two titans stared at each other, daring the other to move. With a quick spell, Hermione Levitated Harry. Inch by inch, she retreated, never taking her eyes off the Dark Lord.

The Terrible Foe shifted his gaze from his former teacher to sneer at the retreating teens. Dumbledore raised his wand as if to do battle. Voldemort rolled his eyes in exasperated derision in response. Hermione was stunned at the incongruity but didn't have time to process it as Voldemort barked, "Now!"

Completely exhausted emotionally and magically, Hermione could only watch as Voldemort laughed at the old Headmaster. "You may think you've won old man, but you've lost everything. We own Britain now. We'll be seeing you soon, Dumbledore." With the portkey wards dropped at the Dark Lord's command, he vanished.

Hermione collapsed. Pulling Harry into her arms, she wept as she screamed, "Somebody help me!"

End Act I

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. Sorry about the lateness of the chapter, but real life has been in session. Between the three kids, the job, the kids, the house, the kids, the 11 acres, the Cub Scouts and what else? Oh, yeah, the wife and life has been really busy lately. Oh yeah, it's also Christmastime. Alright, I give in. **I grovel in despair and supplication. I'm really, really sorry**

1. Recommendation this chapter is The Queen Who Fell To Earth, by Bobmin 356, an excellent HP/Dragonriders of Pern crossover. If you haven't read it, make the time.

1. Thus ends Act I of The Last Casualties. As I mentioned a few chapters back, this one time simple idea has exploded in my head into this grand scope and scale. I hope it comes out as I see it in my imagination. I'm probably going to continue the story in this file, mainly because I can't think of a name that's better than Last Casualties for the overarching story. I'm really enjoying writing James and Lily, they're a lot of fun and it allows Harry to be more of a teenager as opposed to this über mature person who can fall flat if not written well. We've all read stories where Harry comes across as petulant and ridiculous in his demanding and absolute attitude as a fourteen-year-old trying to act as if he's fifty. Having James, Remus and Sirius alive in this story allows them to act in the adult world while Harry feels his way into a position.

1. I had some questions in reviews about my terminology. One reviewer asked about my usage of titles (e.g. The Boy-Who-Lived and The Smartest Witch of the Age among others). I find that using `Harry' this and `Harry' that makes a story dull. Livening it up with a sprinkling of The Boy-Who-Lived and `dark haired wizard,' as well as, his Lordship, the Earl of Richmond, among others, helps ease any tedium of words. The other was the use of `mundane' as opposed to `muggle'. Far too often in canon the word muggle is used as a pejorative as well as rhyming with a well-known extremely vulgar and rude word. As such, I don't like the word `muggle'. At all. So I don't use it. As this is my story, it's entirely within my prerogative to use terms as I see fit. Not to be a snot about it, but hey, it's my story. Write your own if you don't like it.

1. To the canon police out there: if you find my story offensive to you because I don't adhere to every little point that JKR thought up then Don't Read My Story Any Longer. Write Your Own.

1. The Ireland/Spain debate was NOT a dig at Bob & Alyx's Sunset/Sunrise Over Britain. If you've read any of my recommendations over the years, you'll know that storyline is one of my favourite HP stores ever written (including canon).

1. I know the ritual was a different order in GOF. No comments are required. Oh, yeah, remember, my Voldemort uses the Royal We when referring to himself.

1. Alright, Bob. I'm braced for it. Hit me with it, brother…

This story dedicated to the memory of my loving Grandmother, Grace Ellen (November 26, 1920 - November 20, 2011). Mother of Charles, Patrick, Robert, David, Mary and Kevin. Grandmother of Sean, Erin, James, John, Patrick, Benjamin, Margaret, Cate, Claire, Will, Mark, Michael, Sarah, Molly, Olivia, Frankie, Keeley, and Vincent. Great Grandmother of Conor, Aine, Maire, Moises, Gracie, Holden and Beckett.

Beloved widow of Frank (Jan 1911-May 1991)

You'll be missed Grandma.

This chapter completed on 1/1/12

Document created with wvWare/wvWare version 1.2.7

-->