Unofficial Portkey Archive

Chapter 20

"Your Grace, may we have a moment of your time?"

Lily looked up from her desk to see Steven and Alice Granger in the doorway of her study. James had run to town to select the wine for dinner the next day. They were to visit the Queen on the morrow and he wanted the dinner afterwards to be something memorable. Unfortunately, it left her alone as Harry and Hermione had joined the other teens at the beach for the day. Sirius had purchased a windsurfer for Harry, remembering how enamoured he'd been of the toy when they'd vacationed in the Caribbean. Actually, he'd purchased three for the house in case anyone else wanted to ride.

Sirius and Hestia were visiting some of the Roman ruins that dotted the coast. Hestia was an enthusiast for visiting ancient sites of all kinds. Lily envisioned trips to Greece and Egypt in their future. Remus and Alex were taking a nap. As Remus flushed more of the Aconite out of his system, he was forcing himself to stay up later and become more physically active. That, in conjunction with the approaching full moon, had him exhausted.

Bill and Bobbie were about somewhere. Where they were, she had no idea, but she liked the retirees. She envisioned her own parents to be like the couple, had they survived Voldemort's wrath.

All this meant that Lily had no one to hide behind now that her least favourite residents of La Retirada had cornered her. In addition, they addressed her by her title. Here, in their own home, titles meant little. Only Rauri continued to call her and James `Your Grace' but she believed the fellow did it out of a smug satisfaction that the Potter family was finally getting their just rewards. And he was savouring his role as the Butler to a Duke and Duchess.

Trying desperately to avoid rolling her eyes, Lily gestured to two seats on the other side of her desk. "Of course, please sit."

Leaving the paperwork where it lay, she tried to forget about arranging James' schedule across the next month. There were so many demands on his attention from various members of the ICW who either had real business or wanted the fame by association of the Ambassador that Lily was near ripping her red locks out in frustration.

Adopting a professional tone, Lily waited. Whatever they wanted to say, she didn't care. They'd tossed their child to the side and proven themselves the worst sort of people.

"We'd like to apologize," Steven began.

Nodding, Alice picked up the thread, "When last we spoke at our home, Steven and I behaved…," she faltered, trying to find the right word. "We behaved abhominably," she finished in an embarrassed and ashamed whisper.

Lily regarded the older couple coolly, waiting for any further comment. Steven caught her eye, telling her, "I was completely out of line with my statements to you and the imprecation on your character. I regret those and other statements greatly."

Not in a charitable mood, Lily absently rubbed her baby bump. Still she waited.

He began to fidget while she looked at Lily's letter opener as if it held the secrets of life.

Finally, Lily told them, "I really don't care what you said to me. True, it was crude and crass but I've had much worse from much worse than you." Leaning forward, she narrowed her eyes as her temper flared. "You stupid fuckers hurt Hermione, though. You tossed her in the bin and dumped ash on top of her." Snarling she jabbed a finger at the couple across from her, "And that is beyond the pale. Your own daughter? You fucking scum."

Lily hadn't really let loose swearing in a while. Writing it off to pregnancy while confronted with the intolerable, she leaned back in her chair. As a mother, herself, she figured she had a right to stand in judgement of the couple across from her.

The door opened. "Hey lover, I think I got just the right…" James' evaluation of his expedition for wine died on his lips. Blankly, he greeted the shamefaced Grangers, "Hello."

"Your Grace," Steven muttered in greeting without meeting the man's eyes.

James did roll his eyes. Moving to his wife's side, his expression asked the silent question. Her upset must have been evident and he read it. Nodding to him, she reassured her husband that she was fine or would be shortly.

"Sir," Steven began, "We were just apologizing to her Grace for our obscene behaviour last fall. I'd like to take this opportunity to apologize to you as well. We behaved unbelievably badly toward you, your wife, your cousin and most importantly, our daughter."

Lily narrowed her eyes in malice, Seems he learned by taking a drubbing from me to mention Hermione as the most offended.

James considered Granger's words, a thoughtful expression on his face. Giving a nod, James told the seated Grangers, "Very well. Our forgiveness," he placed a hand on Lily's shoulder to include her, "is contingent upon your behaviour to your daughter. While your statements to my wife were offensive, you hurt your daughter whom I love as one of my own. Should you show your contrition to Hermione, then Lily and I shall forgive you."

Lily didn't say anything. She knew her husband well enough that James would never forgive the Grangers. Once he formed a resentment, he nursed and held it forever. Nothing they could do would earn his forgiveness. Albus Dumbledore was living proof of that flaw in her husband. Still, he was motivating the Grangers to behave better toward their daughter, not speaking the truth. The fact that he felt he needed to encourage parents to behave toward their daughter was nothing short of a tragedy.

Nodding, Alice murmured, "You're very kind, your Grace."

"That's another thing. Titles in the house are unnecessary. I'm James and my wife is Lily. I cannot speak for his Highness; you'll have to obtain his permission to be familiar there."

Lily watched them nod in unison. She realised that James was being more mature than she was about the entire affair. Her anger was real as was her resentment. However, it didn't give her license to shriek like a fishwife. Taking a deep breath, she told the couple seated across from her, "I apologize for the mode of my address earlier. I was upset and…"

She didn't say she was pregnant so all bets were off, but there it was.

Steven and Alice nodded, Steven flashing a short grin. "Of course," Alice murmured.

"If that's all?" Lily asked as she leaned forward over the desk to indicate she had better things to do than chat with them. Cleaning out of bucket of week old shit would have been more important than talking to the Grangers.

"Thank you for your time," Steven told them both as he stood. Following Alice to the door, he closed it behind him when he left.

"So what did you say to them?" James asked as he moved behind her to massage her shoulders.

Groaning, she replied, "Pretty much what you said."

Chortling, he countered, "Why don't I believe that? When I came in they looked like kicked puppies."

"Maybe I was a bit more forthright about it all."

"Translation: you cussed them out."

"Pretty much. Unh. Lower."

His fingers moved lower, working on the knot that was just to the left of her spine. "Everything ready for tomorrow?" she asked.

"Yep. Rauri has the kids' clothes ready. Ours are being cleaned today. Amelia is going to be there in her Minister role. We're ready."

Lily knew exactly what he was thinking during a pause. "No. They're not coming."

"Good. I was looking for a reason to exclude them."

Pushing her chair back, she tugged on his hand, "C'mon. I need some special attention from my husband."

"Yippee!" he cheered childishly.

Lily couldn't help the grin that spread across her face as he danced down the hall after her as she made her way to the master suite.

.oOo.

"You know, this Sunscreen charm is pretty handy."

Neville turned to William as the younger teen dried his face and hair. Harry had been trying to teach the dirty blond teen how to windsurf, but it had been a slow process. William had spent more time swimming after the board than standing on it. Harry, of course, was like a bird. Shooting into the sky off waves, cutting tight corners and zipping across the surf, he looked to be a born windsurfer.

"It's a handy charm. My Gran never let me outside without it." Or an Injury Alarm charm or a Danger Detection charm and a host of other spells for the coordination disabled.

Neville's gaze drifted back to the surf. Susan was Harry's latest student and she was doing very well. Her occasional `Whoop!' of delight made him smile. At first, he felt pangs of jealousy, watching his girlfriend have fun with another guy, but then looked to his left to see Hermione and William in a deep discussion about something or the other. If Harry and Hermione could have fun with people of the opposite gender, so could he. Besides, he trusted Susan not to run around on him; especially with Harry. He was nearly married; he was nearly the definition of `taken'.

"Why don't you give it a go?" Billy the Fish asked, his grin a bit mischievous.

"Because I have a hard time walking up and down stairs without falling down," Neville replied without hesitation.

"Neville, you've really got a lot better," Hermione encouraged. "I remember first year, you got all caught up in your robes…," she laughed.

Neville chuckled with her, "And nearly fell down the grand staircase." Turning to Billy, he added, "That in and of itself would be pretty bad, but the entire sixth and seventh years of our house were in front of me. It would have been like ten pin bowling as I knocked them all a-scatter with my falling corpse." He could smile and laugh about those times now, so he did.

They all were chuckling as Harry ran from the surf. Neville was strictly heterosexual, but he could see why Hermione was so attracted to The Boy-Who-Lived. Leanly muscled, Harry had toned well with all the exercises. He'd a nice tan and those electric green eyes nearly jumped out of his face.

Neville's attention didn't stay on Harry for long, though. A vision of beauty was rising from the waves and her name was Venus. Or maybe Susan, it was hard to tell at this range.

Her hair was slicked back and the bright blue bikini left enough to the imagination to set his pulse racing. Neville couldn't help but stare at his girl as she sauntered to him. Her eyes never left his and Neville felt as if he were on a stairway to the skies with her as his partner.

She walked up to him, leaned over and planted a long, lusty kiss on him. Neville had to fight to maintain control of the placement of his hands. After a brief but violent struggle, they stayed at his sides.

"You look good," she whispered after breaking the kiss.

"So do you," he replied. She nestled next to him on the blanket so he made room. Leaning back on his hands, she slipped between his legs, leaning back on his broad chest as the two couples and William chatted.

Sharing a butterbeer with Susan, he asked Hermione, "Tell William about the end of first year."

She frowned while thanking Harry for passing her the crisps. "I already told him about the stone and all. It was one of our tamer adventures." Harry's snort of derision caused her to amend, "Well, tamer for me. I know an eleven-year-old idiot who was determined to face a dark wizard." The tease cause the others to laugh.

Just barely, over the laughter, Neville heard Harry mutter to Hermione, "I did it for you." His expression was swallowed by the butterbeer bottle, but Neville knew that it would be that look he got whenever he watched Hermione.

Wanting to divert attention away from Harry, Neville asked Hermione, "But when did you start the story?"

Now she blushed for she knew about what he was referring. "At Fluffy," she muttered.

Susan looked to Neville curiously. "What is it?' she asked.

Neville tossed a balled up paper towel at Hermione. "Start the story in the Common room you fibber."

After Hermione told of the now infamous Body Bind spell, the five some was roaring. Hermione was leaning on Harry as she giggled herself silly. Harry had a wide smile as he chuckled to himself. Susan was on her back she laughed so hard while Neville soaked up being the centre of the story - for once.

As William wiped his eyes, he asked, "Why did you want that part of the story told?"

Neville shrugged, a bit embarrassed about his real reasons.

Hoisting his butterbeer in salute, Harry told William, "Neville was the bravest of us all that night. We were scared and lonely eleven-year-old kids who were desperate for friendship. Neville stood up to his friends for what was right. Hermione, Ron and I faced physical danger. Neville faced something much harder for an eleven-year-old because he knew what he could lose. The rest of us," he glanced at Hermione whose face had become contemplative. "We didn't really know what we were risking. What's death to an eleven-year-old? But to lose any friends you've made? We all knew that risk."

After taking a long drink from his bottle, Harry said, "You're a good man, Neville Longbottom."

Completely nonplussed by Harry's little speech, he could only nod his thanks. Susan wrapped her arm about his waist, "I couldn't agree more."

.oOo.

"Your Majesty, his Grace, the Duke of Shrewsbury, her Grace, the Duchess of Shrewsbury, the Earl of Blackmoor, Earl of Richmond, the Lady Hermione Granger-Black and the Minister for Magic."

William smiled. Earlier, he'd asked James to bring him to his Grandmother. He knew what she had planned, for he knew the old woman. In addition, he needed to see her. The Potters, Blacks and all the other residents of La Retirada were wonderful people who'd welcomed him with open arms. Unfortunately, they weren't his family. His family was dead.

He still remembered the security team running into his room as he studied for an upcoming exam. They didn't say much beyond, "Come with us," as they nearly dragged him out of the palace to a waiting car. His grandmother had been waiting for him in the backseat. For the first time in his life, he saw her cry. As she wrapped him in a long hug, he heard the sniffles and whimpers from the strongest person he'd ever known and it scared him. "Grandmother?" he'd whispered in fear.

"Drive," she'd commanded to the security forces in the front seat.

That had begun their painful exodus from their land. Using one of the security force's personal saloon cars, they drove until dawn before pulling into a roadside inn. William had wrinkled his nose at the odour in the room, but had been too tired to quibble.

"Sleep, Willy," she'd cajoled, using his nickname from when he'd been a baby.

Somewhere in his fatigue fogged brain, he'd been alarmed by her behaviour, but was too tired to act on it.

When he woke a few hours later, his grandmother was on a phone, trying to get through to someone. Her frustration evident, William sat mutely, ignoring his hunger pains. When she hung up, he wondered why she was so upset and what the bloody hell was going on.

That's when she told him that they were fleeing the country to France. She'd arranged for an old friend of his father's to provide them shelter. He'd asked about his parents only to receive a wordless stare before she stood to use the lavatory prior to their leaving.

Remembering that conversation always brought a chill and shudder to the young man. That stare of hers had been full of agony and pain and it would never lose its poignancy over time. Everyone at La Retirada was wonderful, but they'd never replace his family. Therefore, every once in a while he felt a need, nearly a physical pull, to see his grandmother.

Looking over the visitors, he nodded in satisfaction. Despite all this warm feelings of family and whatnot, William was glad that Hermione's birth parents were not present. Subsequent to their first, very unpleasant, meeting, Hermione's father had shied away from him. The Prince smiled when Harry unconsciously straightened his tie while Hermione flicked a bit of something from his sleeve.

After the introductions, the Queen gave James a look. He shook his head to which she gave her miniscule smile. The broad smile that she gave in public was for the photographers and he could tell was a mask. When she was really amused or happy, her lips curled at the edges and her eyes glittered. Like now.

It was good to see. She'd lost so much in so short a time: her husband, her children and her country. Any diversion was welcome.

James escorted the knowing Lily to her seat while Sirius stood there like a lump. Amelia sat herself out of the way, allowing the family to take precedence. William sidled up to Sirius, pinching his elbow. "Come," he whispered, leading him to a seat next to Lily. From the corner of his eye, he saw Hermione eyeing him with a suspicious expression. Seating Sirius, William scooped up his folder. Since the situation was so dire, they didn't have the proper facilities to do this correctly.

The Queen turned to James. "Your Grace, would you please?"

"Yes, your Majesty," He withdrew his wand and after a few flicks, two kneeling benches appeared before the Queen.

Hermione immediately understood, her eyes widening and her face paling. He smiled to see her grasp her boyfriend's hand while he stood there wondering what was going on.

From his pocket, James pulled a small pouch. The pouch was evidently magically expanded, for he reached in and withdrew a sword of such beauty and majesty, that William couldn't help but admire it. The hilt encrusted with rubies and the blade long and unblemished, he saw letters engraved there but couldn't make them out. Truly, it is the sword of a king.

"The blade of my ancestor, your Majesty," James told her in a low voice. Standing next to her, he held the blade, hilts toward the queen. William smiled to see the look of pride and love that crossed the man's face when he regarded his children, for Hermione was his as much as Harry was.

"Lord Richmond, Lady Hermione, kneel before your Sovereign," William commanded from behind them. Reflexively, both teens moved to the kneeling benches. Taking a deep breath, William began to read.

"Oye, Oye, Oye. Be it made known amongst here present, and be it made known throughout the land at such time deemed prudent, that Harry James Potter, son of James and Lily, the Duke and Duchess of Shrewsbury, the Earl and Countess of Richmond and the Baron and Baroness Potter of Gwynedd, and Hermione Jane Granger-Black, daughter of Sirius, the Earl of Blackmoor, have performed numerous heroic acts in the defence of the Our Realm, and demonstrated loyalty, bravery and strength of spirit worthy of emulation for all across Our lands." He paused for a breath before continuing. Harry had bowed his head as if in prayer, while Hermione closed her eyes.

"To honour these actions and their strength of character, Her Royal Highness, the Queen, hereby invites them to join the Most Royal Order of the Bath as Knight Protectors of the Realm."

Normally, during the reading, attendants would place hoods lined with ermine and fox on their shoulders. Today, that wasn't possible. After the reading, the Queen took the sword of Gryffindor from James, tapping Harry on each shoulder saying, "Sir Harry James Potter, We name you a Knight Commander of the Most Royal Order of the Bath."

The Queen then turned to Hermione and tapping her on each shoulder with the fabled weapon said, "Dame Hermione Jane Granger-Black, We name you a Knight Commander of the Most Royal Order of the Bath. Arise, Sir Harry and Dame Hermione, and go forth into the Realm with certain knowledge of the Crown's support."

Mechanically, both newly invested knights rose to their feet. They lifted their faces to see the Queen smiling her sincere smile at them. William began to clap softly after the Queen told the teens, "Thank you for all that you've done in the past and will do in the future."

The family and the Minister began to applaud for Harry and Hermione. Lily swooped in to hug both teens. William thought he heard a muttered, "Mum," from Harry but all ignored it.

Breaking into a gaggle, his Grandmother led the way to a small buffet that'd been laid out.

William shook Harry's hand, "You knew," The Boy-Who-Lived accused with a smile.

"Of course. She's my Grandmother and who do you think told her about the Chamber of Secrets and whatnot?"

"Thank you," Hermione told him in an undertone as Harry moved off to grab a plate of food. "He deserves recognition for all he's done."

William turned to her, "As do you. You've done as much as he has, Hermione."

She gave a miniscule half-shrug before changing the subject. "What did she mean when she said, `and will do in the future'?'

William shook his head. "I've no idea. You'll have to ask her."

The expression on Hermione's face became that of a scared rabbit. He laughed. "She's just like your grandmother; a formidable woman of a certain age. Besides, you're a knight of the realm. I thought you were supposed to be a fount of courage."

With an exasperated expression, Dame Hermione regarded Prince William, "Billy, she's no more like my Granny than you're like Draco Malfoy."

"Who?" he asked in amused ignorance.

"Never mind." Taking a deep breath, she nodded. "I'll just collect Harry before I ask."

As she moved off, William commented to no one, "She can do anything with him at her side."

.oOo.

Hermione gathered a plate for herself. Her light breakfast wasn't filling her up. She and Harry had a hard run in the hills inland from the house so her stomach was insistently informing her that it needed to be filled.

"Congratulations," came Sirius' voice from behind her.

Placing another stuffed shrimp on her plate, she turned to see him smiling at her. It wasn't his Padfoot smile where there was mischievousness alongside a hint of danger lurking in the background. "Thanks," she replied. "I'm rather stunned, to be honest. We've always tried to help other people. There was never any thought about reward or accolades. People needed help. Harry went to the Chamber for Ginny. We had to stop Quirrell. You needed to be saved. We had to get my relatives out of England. In the graveyard…" she trailed off as that scene brought back memories she'd no desire ever to revisit.

"And that is the heart of a true knight," came the Queen's voice from behind her.

Turning yet again, Hermione bobbed a short curtsey. "Thank you, your Majesty. I - and I believe I can speak for Sir Harry - well, we're both honoured beyond words."

The Queen's eyes were tired, but she was serene. Returning the thanks with a slight nod, she turned on Harry, who'd just joined his betrothed. "Sir Harry, do you know what I was referring to earlier?"

Hermione blinked. She'd heard that Elizabeth was sharp but not prescient, surely. Paying keen attention to both the elder lady's words and body language, The Smartest Witch of the Age waited.

"Yes, your Majesty," Harry replied with a hint of heaviness in his tone. Oh, Hermione chastised herself. That. With that tone, it could only be one thing.

"This prophecy that your father told me that concerns you. You have a task in front of you, Sir Harry. A daunting one but I believe that Dame Hermione will be at your side to help lighten your load," the last was delivered with twinkling eyes.

The twinkle disappeared. "Just as I've charged your father to lead our effort to retake our land, I charge you to be his champion. You shall be our David to their Goliath. It is unfair to levy such a serious undertaking on one so young, but based on your past and what I've been told of your character," her eyes bored into Harry's as he stood there silently, "you are fully capable."

Hermione was thunderstruck. Should anyone else have said the exact words the Queen had said, she'd have ignored or doubted them. Coming from the Queen of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, there was a confidence, sincerity and command that infused the listener with strength hitherto unknown.

Bowing at the neck, Harry replied, "I shall do all that is within my power, your Majesty."

Elizabeth bestowed the young knights with another smile, "And that shall be enough, Sir Harry."

.oOo.

Harry was walking a path in the hills above the house, meandering with no real fixed purpose. Remus could just make out his dark head in the brownish green scrub that grew on the hill. "He needs a task," Remus told Sirius.

The dark haired animagus nodded his head reluctantly. He knew too well what Harry's immediate task should be. "Is the Italian place ready?"

Soberly, Remus nodded.

"Either you or me will be there every time when they're with Albus. I don't trust him," Sirius spat.

The Lycanthrope nodded again. With his own issues regarding the probable poisoning by Snape, Remus wasn't feeling nearly as charitable toward the old Headmaster as he had felt the previous fall.

"What about Hermione?" Sirius asked.

Finally taking his eyes from the hills, Remus regarded one of his oldest friends. "What about her?"

Sirius resumed his watch over his godson, "Do we tell her?"

A bit affronted, Remus prodded, "About the poisoning? I thought we were past hiding truths from them, Padfoot."

"Remus, she might try to kill Albus should she find out. Between Harry's upbringing, Albus' complete lack of disciplining the anti-muggleborn students, my imprisonment and now this poisoning, I think it might push them both over the edge. Together, I think they can take the old man."

Moony mulled over Padfoot's observation. Finally, he told the former Prisoner of Azkaban, "We'll need to talk to James and Lily."

Sirius nodded, "Lily's going to start shouting again, isn't she?"

"Yep."

.oOo.

Lily's jaw was set, her brows thunderous as Remus outlined his plan for Dumbledore's tutelage of Harry and Hermione.

"That's all well and good, Moony. But you're forgetting something."

Blinking Remus and Sirius exchanged puzzled looks before Remus asked, "What did I forget, Prongs?"

"You forgot that you're dealing with Albus Dumbledore who could possibly be the biggest schemer in the magical world. He'll not be put in a box by anyone," Prongs opined as he sat back in his chair. "The only reason I was able to harness him at all was because of the combination of the court order and manipulating Albus' own guilt over Harry's treatment by my fucking in-laws."

"What about Harry and Hermione?" Remus asked. "When we tell them about my poisoning, they may go off their head. I could easily envision them giving him a run for his money if not defeating him."

Should the old man be defeated when Harry and Hermione were in such a mood, it would most likely be a fatal scenario. That didn't need to be said, all present knew it.

Except Lily.

"I don't think that you're giving them enough credit," she murmured. "They're not the kids they were when we `came back'." Shaking her head, she added, "And they weren't really kids then, either."

Remus nodded, "True enough."

Looking from one of his friends to the next, an exasperated Sirius finally asked, "So, for the stupid among us, what's the vote?"

"You're not stupid, Pads. Use the brain that got us into the Slytherin Girls dorm in fourth year," Prongs said.

"Yeah," Sirius murmured dreamily. "That was brilliant."

Lily narrowed her eyes at her husband. James realised, too late, that he hadn't told his bride about this exploit. Backtracking, he sat up straight, "Anyway, back on topic."

"We'll talk later," she muttered.

"Damn."

"Through the aftereffects of gallons and gallons of Firewhiskey compounded by a dozen years with Dementors, I think you mean that we can trust Harry and Hermione?"

Lily clapped sarcastically, "Give the man a brass ring."

Trying to get back in his wife's good grace, James conjured a ring, tossing it at Sirius.

"We're still talking about it," Lily commented in a singsong voice.

"Damn."

Remus sniggered at his friend's antics before nodding to Prongs, "You'll set something up with Albus? I'll take you to the La Bella Vetta so you can make him a portkey."

"La Bella Vetta?" Lily asked.

"Yeah, it means The Beautiful Summit in Italian." Shrugging, he added, "I didn't name it."

"So, who tells Harry and Hermione?" Sirius asked.

Standing, James donned his most serious face as if he were swirling a cape about his shoulders. "I am."

.oOo.

"State your name and date of birth."

"Dolores Jane Umbridge, April 15, 1943."

"When did you earn your certificate from Hogwarts?"

"I never did. Dumbledore allowed me to eat with the others of my year for the Seventh Year Feast, but I had failed all but two of my courses."

Arthur blinked. The first few questions were control questions. Glancing at Amelia and Hestia, he wasn't surprised to see the women shaking their heads in amused exasperation. Catching Amelia's eye, he nodded when she made a `get on with it' motion.

"Are you a Death Eater?"

"No."

"Do you actively support the Dark Lord commonly known as `You-Know-Who', `He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named' or Lord Voldemort?"

Even under the influence of Veritaserum, Umbridge shuddered when Arthur ground out the hated name.

"No."

Amelia jumped into the conversation, "Do you support the Dark Lord's goals and, if so, which ones?"

"I am fully supportive of some of his goals. Blood superiority and predominance of witches and wizards over other magical beings are the largest items on his agenda that I support."

Picking up Amelia's thread, Hestia asked, "If presented the opportunity, would you actively support the Dark Lord in any manner?"

"Only if I would gain power and authority."

Shaking his head, Arthur saw this interview rolling down the tubes. Picking the next question on the list, he asked, "Have you ever knowingly violated the law?"

"Yes."

"In what manner did you knowingly violate the law?"

"I embezzled over five hundred galleons via an expense account when I was the junior deputy assistant to the Undersecretary for the Implementation of Potion Regulation while serving in the Department of Health and Human Services."

There were so many things wrong with that statement that Arthur could only stare for a long moment.

Amelia interjected again. "Do you know where any of the Death Eaters or the Dark Lord himself can be found?"

"He's taken up residence in Buckingham Palace. Many of the Death Eaters are either in Balmoral Castle or in Buckingham Palace."

Arthur frowned. "How do you know this?"

"I am Joseph Jugson's mistress. I overheard him talking to another Death Eater after one of our afternoon assignations."

All three questioners shivered at the idea that Dolores Umbridge could be anyone's mistress.

"Why did you leave Britain?" Hestia asked. Arthur nodded as he'd just been thinking the same thought. With such a powerful protector, why would she leave?

"Joseph severed our relationship. He gave me forty eight hours to be out of the county."

"That sounds like Joseph," Amelia muttered.

"Do you know if the Dark Lord has any agents in the Ministry in Exile and if so, how many?" Hestia asked.

Arthur waited with baited breath.

"Yes, there is one."

"Who is it?" Hestia pressed.

"I don't know."

Arthur released the breath he'd been holding.

Hestia didn't let it go. Following the vein, she asked, "How do you know that there is an agent in the Ministry in Exile?"

"Joseph told me that they had a tip that the Potter brat would be in the country a week or so ago. The Dark Lord had every Death Eater stand ready during that day."

Her brow thunderous, Hestia snarled, "And what did they do?"

"When the magic detectors went off, a team of ten was sent to the site. If no one responded within a predetermined amount of time…" Umbridge trailed off as she began to blink and cough a bit. The Veritaserum was wearing off.

Moving in automatic, Arthur handed the rousing witch a glass of water. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Amelia stand.

"Well Dolores, that was an interesting interview. I'll have to ask you to stay in this room for the time being." She nodded to Arthur as she left.

The redheaded man turned back to the woman. Her toad-like face wore a bewildered expression as he told her, "There is a necessary in the corner," he nodded with his chin. "A house elf will bring you your meals." A quick wave of his wand transfigured a chair into a single bed.

"I have your wand in my possession and it shall be returned to you in good working condition should the Minister determine that it is warranted." Smiling to her, he cast a few more spells before moving to the door. "Goodbye Dolores," he told her as he closed the door before casting a series of locking charms.

Dolores Umbridge wasn't under arrest, but her life was forever changed.

.oOo.

"So what do we do with her?" Hestia asked as she slumped into a chair. James and Albus were on the opposite side of the table. They'd watched the interrogation through a charmed wall that allowed one-way viewing.

"I could Vanish her," James offered softly.

There was silence as Amelia, Albus and Hestia regarded the tired looking wizard.

"James, just because she's peripherally involved in the attack on Harry…" Dumbledore began.

"Yes! MY SON!" James interrupted snarling at the old man. "MY son was wounded - again - by some traitor that this bitch would willingly join. You heard her old man. If given the opportunity, she'd join Voldemort in a heartbeat."

Hestia wasn't as upset as James was, but nearly so. She'd become very fond of Harry over the months. His incapacitation had touched her deeply. Not an overly demonstrative person, her firm hug of Harry when he'd miraculously woken was as near as jumping up and down while screaming, "I love this person," as Hestia Jones would ever come.

Deciding that she needed to defuse James before he went too far, she calmly told him, "James, we can't just kill her. The Minister can't order an execution, only the Wizengamot can do that."

Still riled, James gestured with his hand, "Fine. We've three of the surviving members of the Wizengamot here. I vote for execution. We know that Dumbledore wants to try to save her rotten little soul, so what say you, Amelia? You seem to be the deciding vote."

Hestia blinked. She hadn't thought that James would have seen through her ploy to stall him. This was the last time she'd underestimate the Duke of Shrewsbury, though.

To Hestia's surprise, Amelia slowly told the others, "I need to think about it. I'll not execute someone in a passion." The petite woman levelled a tiny finger at James, "And you'd best reconsider your hot-headed words, young man. I understand more than these other two," she gestured to Albus and Hestia, "about protectiveness of a teen wizard. But we're talking about cold blooded killing."

A mask fell over James' face that Hestia had never seen. She'd seen his `responsible' face, `the jokester', `Dad', `Godfather', `Brother', `Patriarch' and `Politician'. This face across from her was different.

It was `Killer' and it was frightening.

Once again, Hestia was reminded that she wasn't a fighter, she was a politician.

"I have no problem killing her. If you can't, I will."

Amelia regarded James with a considering expression before he added, "For clarification, the primary reason I advocate her execution is because she will sell us to Voldemort in a heartbeat. She can't be safely brought into the government, so she'll go back and then? Then, she'll tell them all she knows and become someone we'll have to kill in retaking our country."

"If Jugson doesn't have her killed first," Hestia countered.

James nodded, acknowledging the point.

"James, I'd feel better about the Memory charm option," Hestia told him. Lifting her hand to forestall his objection, she continued, "There's no need to kill her. We just need to make her a non-threat. We'll have enough blood on our hands in the end. Why add more?"

He regarded her in the same manner that Amelia had regarded him. Finally, he deflated, "Very well. I can't but agree with that logic. Memory charm her to Hell and back, but not kill her."

Arthur opened the door before sliding into his seat. "I think we have a resolution," Amelia told the redheaded man.

"Oh?"

"Yes. We'll Veritaserum her again tomorrow. If we get nothing new, I'll Memory charm her so that the last week is gone. Then we'll drop her…" she looked to the others for suggestions.

"Outer Mongolia," James offered.

Rolling her eyes, Hestia suggested, "The United States is large enough for her to get lost. They roughly speak the same language, so it's not a cruel banishment. A few Compulsion charms ought to keep her there."

Sulking, James shrugged his agreement.

Hestia turned to see Arthur looking out the window. "Arthur?"

Startled, he jumped a bit. "Sorry, wool gathering." Resettling in his chair, Arthur opined, "I think the Memory charm option is the most humane while removing her as a problem."

Amelia nodded. Glancing at Albus, Hestia saw him nod to the Acting Minister. She gathered her parchment as James dropped a rock on the table in front of Albus. The two men regarded each other for a long moment before James said, "Tomorrow at eight AM?"

"I shall be there," the old man replied.

.oOo.

Harry and Hermione moved to the veranda. "Afternoon, Granny," she greeted Bobbie. James had headed to the Ministry building with Amelia, while Lily returned home to nap. Sirius was seeing Mind Healer Plummer.

Squinting under the hand shading her eyes, the older woman replied, "Well, hello to you two. We missed you this morning at Mass."

Hermione exchanged an amused glance with Harry as took seats about the table around which Bill and Bobbie were sitting. "Rauri, may we please have lemonade and snacks?" Harry murmured.

The distinguished elf appeared with a pop, Levitating a tray to the centre of the table. Standing, Harry told the now bowing elf, "Thank you Rauri."

"Of course, my Lord," he replied in an undertone before departing in the same way he arrived.

As Harry poured a tall glass of the tart refreshment, Hermione asked her fiancé, "Where do I begin the story?"

The Boy-Who-Lived smiled as he handed Hermione the full glass. "We were knighted by the Queen this morning."

Rolling her eyes while her grandparents were stunned into stillness, she snarked, "Thanks Harry," as she sipped the cool beverage.

"No worries, love."

"Hermione?" Bill asked. "What's Harry talking about?"

Reaching into her pocket, Hermione withdrew the medallion of the Order of the Bath. Opening the box so they could all see it, Hermione was still astounded by the sight of the eight pointed silver cross and its attendant crimson ribbon, which shone in the sun. The small gold balls at each tip glinted in the sunlight, perfect beads of metal while the three crowns in the centre were amazing miniaturizations of the Queen's crown. The red and green bands about the centre looked a bit odd given the colour pattern of the rest of the insignia, but the medallion as a whole was unmistakably beautiful.

"Oh." Bill breathed. Glancing at her, back to the medallion and back to his granddaughter, he finally broke into a grin. "Well, Dame Hermione and Sir Harry, what shall we discuss?"

Bobbie leaned over, placing a gentle kiss on Hermione's cheek, "I'm very proud of you, my dear. Tell us all about it."

Harry poured for Bill, Bobbie and himself as Hermione recounted the tale, including a brief overview of their `adventures' during their Hogwarts years. She diplomatically left out the Queen's `little tasking' at the end of the event. "William is staying with her for a few days. I think he gets melancholy after a while, remembering his parents."

In the corner of her eye, she saw Harry nod meaningfully. For Bill and Bobbie's sake, he explained, "Growing up, I would get into a funk for a week or so where the whole world was wrong and I was wrong in it. Part of that was my Aunt and Uncle." He smiled when Hermione stiffened.

Placing his hand over hers, he winked at Bobbie, "She's a bit protective of me."

The old woman chuckled, "Oh, Hermione, you've got a flirt here."

The Smartest Witch of the Age smiled ruefully, "He wasn't until his Father, Uncle and Godfather started in on him." Giving into the situation, she let Harry brighten her mood with his understated silliness.

Shrugging at her, he smiled. "The short of it is that it's hard to have your parents killed." After sipping from his drink, he amended, "Or seem to be killed."

There was a silence that washed away the serious mood as the tide runs down a child's sand castle. Finally, Bill spoke. "What I want to know is why your parents let you return to that school after all those happenings." His fixed gaze on his granddaughter. "Or did you tell them all this?"

Hermione looked to her lap, hiding from his frank gaze. "No, I didn't tell them."

The silence washed over them again. This time, though, it wasn't a cleansing moment, but rather a pregnant pause before the storm breaks.

Looking out to sea, Bill broke off from Hermione. As if from deep inside himself, he began his story, "When I was a lad, I grew up on a four cow dairy farm in northern Devon. I wanted more than anything to get as far away from northern Devon as humanly possible.

"My father had fought in the Great War at Ypres. First, Second, Passchendaele and the Fourth battles. Four bloody years he suffered in that wasteland in southern Belgium. He was the only man in his unit to survive the war. The only thing he wanted after that Hell on Earth was to live his days in peace. All my moaning and groaning about how I needed to `Get Out' and `Make Something of Myself' fell on deaf ears, obviously.

"But I was certain and convinced," Bill smiled in remembrance. "So, in 1938, I joined the Army. I was part of the British Expeditionary Force to France with all the promises of `home by Christmas' and whatnot. Not long afterward, I was swimming to a boat off a little French fishing village that you may have heard of in your classes. It was called Dunkirk. Later, there was North Africa and Sicily with Field Marshall Montgomery, D-Day, Holland and the march on the Rhine. By the time 1945 came around and I was able to come home…" he trailed off.

Hermione was listening with rapt attention. She'd known that Grandfather Bill had served in the war, but this was a list of the greatest battles that Britain had been involved in during the War. What he'd had to have seen…

The first tear leaked out of his eye as Bobbie silently scooted next to her husband. Taking his hand in hers, she slowly stroked it as she leaned in to his ear. His eyes had that faraway look as he remembered times long ago, friends long dead and visions he'd rather never have seen.

"I love you and you're home," Hermione thought she heard her Gran tell her Grandfather.

It was a long minute before he began, his voice low and rusty with emotion. "The first thing I did after being discharged was return to that beautiful four cow dairy in northern Devon so that I could hold my Father close to tell him I love him. And I did. We cried together as he told me that he loved me too. I'd left home a Private and returned a Major, but that was the smallest difference in me."

By now, Hermione was weeping silently. His pain and strength. The trials and tribulation he underwent, as well as the love that was radiating from her Grandfather moved her like not much aside from the dark haired wizard at her side could.

"My point is that no matter the distance, no matter the words said or unsaid, family is important. True, your parents have behaved badly, but in the end, they are still your family. You have to try."

For the third time the silence washed over them. In a sad voice, Hermione told him, "You heard me the other day, Grandfather. I am willing to be in a relationship with them, but I need to be treated with respect. I won't stick my head in the Lion's mouth hoping it won't bite." She trailed off as Harry held her hand while she wiped the tears from her cheeks with the other hand, "I was bitten last time."

"Sometimes, we go back to the well, looking for water," Bobbie observed with a meaningful look at her sober husband. "Unfortunately, the well can go dry."

"I have to try," Hermione whispered. "If I don't, what does that make me?"

"No matter what happens," Bill told her, his bright blue eyes on his only grandchild, "know that you are loved. Never, ever doubt that your Granny and I love you beyond words."

Smiling wetly, Hermione felt that rosy warm feeling in her bosom. "I love you, too, Grandfather."

.oOo.

"Miss Minister! Miss Minister! Come quick!"

Amelia looked up to see Sippy standing in front of her. The diminutive elf was one of three Bones elves that had escaped the fall of Britain. Usually, Sippy was a very placid elf but now her cheeks were rosy with emotion.

Standing, she moved around her desk, "Where to, Sippy?"

"The Miss Umbridge is hurt!"

Frowning, Amelia moved quickly to the third floor room where Dolores was awaiting her next interrogation the following morning. Muttering the Unlocking spell, Amelia pushed the door open.

Her nose told her the story before she saw the gore. Blood has a distinct smell and blood that'd pooled and semi congealed has a particularly unpleasant odour.

Opening the door all the way, he saw the window smashed from the outside - if the glass shards scattered about the floor were any indication - and the cooling, mutilated corpse of Dolores Umbridge laying in two separate pieces on the floor and desk.

"Has anyone been in this room since this morning's questioning?" Amelia asked the trembling elf.

"Sippy doesn't know, Miss Minister. Sippy was helping Bondo this morning." Amelia scowled. Bondo was the elf working for the Weasleys. That in itself wasn't the problem. The problem was that the Weasleys lived across the street, so Sippy wasn't near the room for a part of the morning.

In the calmest, nonchalant voice she could muster, Amelia asked, "Approximately, how long were you helping Bondo?"

"Sippy was across the street for fifteen minutes, Miss Minister. It was right before I made luncheon."

Great. Perfect timing to execute a perfect assassination.

Looking about the room, Amelia absently summoned her notepad. All her years as an Auror took over as she began the investigation into the brutal murder of Dolores Umbridge.

.oOo.

The portkey swirled and deposited the family in the courtyard of La Bella Vetta. Alex vaguely noticed that the house and it's environs were gorgeous. However, everyone in the family was staring at one thing. In the centre of the paved yard, Albus Dumbledore serenely awaited them.

His eyebrow cocked, he observed to the owner of the home, "Quite the party."

James didn't bother to reply.

A flash of sadness across Dumbledore's face surprised the healer. Other than the old Headmaster's public persona, she'd no serious opinion about the man until a few months back. She didn't hate the man with the red hot passion of James, Lily, or Sirius. Those three were the betrayed. Albus had violated their trust egregiously and violently.

Since she'd not really had a relationship with him to have been severed, Alex wasn't so affected. However, should her hypothesis about Snape and a poisoned Wolfsbane Potion prove to be true, she felt that she could most likely work up a passionate dislike bordering on burning hatred in no time flat.

The bright blue eyes of the headmaster surveyed the party, focusing on Harry. "Shall we begin?"

Harry stared at the old man for a moment before nodding. The group prepared to move inside when Hermione commanded, "Wait."

Turning, Alex was a bit taken aback. She'd never seen Hermione this angry. The Smartest Witch of the Age's cheeks were a burning pink while her eyes were chips of obsidian, they were so black. Narrowing her gaze, they young witch's face grew tight with emotion. "I think we have some things to discuss before we move forward."

At Alex's side, Remus stiffened. Sirius snarled while James and Lily went white. Hermione ignored them all, ploughing on with her inquisition.

Dumbledore's face was calm. Interlocking his fingers near his waist, he nodded. It was an expression similar to the one the Kings of old gave to the executioner prior to the man swinging the axe.

Hermione's face oscillated between fury to calm back to upset. In a quick motion, she drew her wand. Everyone jerked to attention, James drew his own wand reflexively.

Turning to Harry, she considered briefly before moving to Sirius. "I need you to hold this for me."

Smart. Now Sirius will force himself to stay in control because Hermione has reminded him of his father role. And Hermione can't hex the old man to kingdom come.

Moving back to Harry's side, The Smartest Witch of the Age drew a deep, calming breath.

"First," Hermione began with a crisp, business like tone, "Did you know of Harry's abuse by the Dursleys?"

Alex winced. A tough one right out of the gate. When Remus began to tremble, she surreptitiously reached out to stroke his back. As he calmed it seemed the others froze in waiting silence.

Dumbledore sighed. His shoulders bowed and his head drooped. Either the man was an excellent actor or he was truly upset by the events of the past. "I knew that the Dursleys were unpleasant people. I knew that they were verbally abusive to Harry. I knew that Harry didn't have proper clothing." His eyes met first Hermione's then Harry's, "But I'd no idea that they were physically abusive to their nephew."

Strangely, she believed the old man. Hermione, however, wasn't satisfied.

"Why didn't you know? There are plenty of spells available to monitor the health and wellness of a child."

Nodding, Alex conceded the point. Albus' reply made her close her eyes to keep from screaming.

"I assumed they would treat him properly."

The open expression on his face gave Alex the feeling that, again, he was speaking the truth. He wasn't evil, just criminally stupid in misjudging character.

Lily turned away, her hands clenched and eyes screwed shut. James was nearly panting in the effort to contain himself.

"You assumed." Hermione's business like tone fell away to pure disbelief.

There was silence, for no one dared to break the quiet lest they all teeter on to the wrong edge of the precipice and fall into madness and violence. Alex was afraid to look at Sirius. She'd felt Remus move a bit closer to his friend, so she figured he was calming down Padfoot.

"Second item, why did you let Sirius go to Azkaban without a trial?"

This is going to be a long day.

"No, Hermione," Sirius moaned as the tension in the courtyard ratcheted up exponentially. Inwardly, Alex agreed with Sirius. They'd not really moved past the issue of Harry's abusive childhood before moving into the next Great Sin perpetrated by the old man against the greater family. That Sin was great enough that it would consume the family for weeks. Now the Second Betrayal was laid at the Traitor's feet and they all recoiled with the emotional pain

The Chief Warlock's face became more resolute. "I didn't let him go to prison, Miss Granger…"

"You may address her as Lady Hermione, Headmaster."

Alex was surprised that it was Harry who spit out the words as if ridding himself of a foul taste.

The old wizard met Harry's gaze before nodding. "Of course. The old ways should always be remembered and honoured."

Turning back to Hermione, he continued, "Lady Hermione, the times were difficult. Public opinion was a near furore after the supposed deaths of the Potters," he nodded to the still pale James. Lily hadn't turned back to face the man.

"As such, when then-Director Crouch ordered Sirius to Azkaban, I had no choice but to go along. To my own discredit, I believed Sirius to be guilty."

Again, there was a long silence. This time Harry spoke, "You spineless worm. You let public opinion convince you to let a man be sent to Hell on Earth? You let your own uninformed opinion send a man to prison for the rest of his life?"

Dumbledore was silent. There was nothing he could say to exonerate himself for he was beyond exoneration.

Hermione did something Alex'd never heard her do. She snorted in derision. "Lastly," she drawled, "Did you either know or order Snape to poison Remus?"

Now Remus was trembling again. Dumbledore turned to the lycanthrope. "Remus? What is this?"

Now Alex's formidable temper flared, "He was overdosed with aconite approximately eighteen months ago."

Albus Dumbledore may have been an unscrupulous bastard, but he wasn't stupid.

His brow furrowed, he pledged, "I have no idea how you were poisoned, but it was not at my doing. Nor, do I believe that Severus was involved."

Sirius and James snorted in disbelief and scorn. Still not turning to face the man, Lily spoke in a low voice. Alex had to strain to hear her words, but they were so laden with emotion, she felt as if she could pick them from the vine, swollen to bursting.

"You know my history with that man, Albus. He was my best friend for many years. He's a near genius, a master of the craft of potion making and a deft hand with a wand, as well. He has the ability to make connections between disparate ideas that is stunning.

"However, he is also the most resentful, mean and petty man I've ever met. He's done things that change a person. Things that irrevocably change a man. While he may claim to have turned back to the light, the darkness has forever stained his soul.

"A man who is a servant of the light does not hold an entire school hostage to his petty whims and visions of vengeance. He does not abuse and belittle those with whom he is entrusted for their safety. No. When one of his long-time opponents and a member of their mutual torment circle was within his power, he would exercise that power. I have no doubt that Severus would poison Remus. It is well within his character."

Turning to Hermione, Remus met her gaze. The two had a silent contest of wills until Remus told her, "That's enough for now. We may never know what happened to me. The other two points…you can't kill a memory nor can you repair the past."

Gesturing with an offhand and derisive gesture, the Lycanthrope dismissed the Headmaster, "He's guilty. We all know it. The evidence is plentiful. He's despised and without name in our lives any longer. Use him for what we're here for so we can leave."

Alex was thunderstruck. Remus never talked like this. He was the compassionate one, the person in their little family who always counselled patience and understanding. Now, he was viciously advocating complete dismissal of the man whom all of those present had either respected or even revered at one time or the other.

And she agreed with him.

Hermione glared at the perturbed old man for a long moment. Nodding, she asked in a more relaxed tone, "Where do we begin?"

.oOo.

Hermione sat next to Harry at the table. Lily was in the kitchen fixing tea with Alex and Remus' help while Sirius and James sat at the head and foot of the table. Opposite the teens was Dumbledore.

Placidly, he regarded the pair of them before he asked, Harry, "I assume you have completely recovered from your disability at the Graveyard Engagement?"

"Yes," Harry tersely replied. Small talk wasn't on the agenda for the day so everyone fell silent again.

Hermione was still fuming a bit. She had one more question for the old man that Remus had prevented her from asking. She wanted to know how the Headmaster knew that the Dark Lord was aware of the particulars of the Prophecy. Her gut told her that question would unravel an entire tapestry of issues. Part of her wanted to know, the more cynical and practical side of her didn't care. Use him for what we're here for so we can leave, Remus had advocated. The sentiment grew in wisdom as time passed.

Lily returned with the tea service while Alex and Remus laid out trays of biscuits.

Muttering, "Ah," the old man's eyes lit on the snacks. She couldn't help but shake her head in amusement as he helped himself to three of the lemon-flavoured treats. The man was a breathing dichotomy and it infuriated her.

Tea was quickly served and while Hermione stirred her one sugar into the mix, Dumbledore began, "Tom Riddle was a genius of the like I don't think the magical world has ever seen. He was also an athlete. While not one for Quidditch, I routinely saw him performing calisthenics and running for distance about the grounds. He was charming and witty when he chose to be, but above all, he was an extraordinarily focused and smart young man."

He levelled his gaze at Harry, "You would have very little chance opposing Tom Riddle."

Hermione's eyes narrowed, but she immediately understood the point. When Sirius barked, "What are you…" Hermione interrupted.

"Sirius, pay attention to what he just said. Harry isn't opposing Tom Riddle, but rather, Lord Voldemort and for all intents and purposes, they're two different people."

Nodding as he nibbled a biscuit, Dumbledore then smiled while saying, "Excellent, Lady Hermione. Ten points to Gryffindor."

No one smiled.

"As her Ladyship pointed out," Dumbledore continued with only a fleeting look of sadness, "Tom Riddle underwent uncounted rituals, potions and whatnot in order to increase his magical might and in a vain attempt at immortality." Shaking his head, he sipped his tea. Wiping his moustaches in a seeming habitual motion, Dumbledore stared off into the ether, "Destroyed himself. Piece by piece, he ravaged his humanity until the sum effect of all the sacrifices required for his goals have left him subhuman.

"Based on his appearance in the graveyard after his resurrection, I performed some research. I can categorically state that he has surrendered five feet of his small intestine, his genitalia, approximately an ounce of his dura mater and, most likely, gallons of his own blood over time. Each sacrifice was required in the rituals and potions of Dark Magic that he performed over the years."

The room fell silent, understanding what Dumbledore was saying. While the transition from Tom Riddle to Lord Voldemort gave the Dark Lord certain advantages, it irreversibly damaged his humanity in not only body but also spirit. Hermione nearly smiled as she considered that Lord Voldemort was now a `magical being' and no longer a wizard, per se.

"He's a beast now. His lack of physical humanity is exacerbated by the emotional and spiritual repercussions of those activities. As such, where he had few weakness and was superior wizard, he now has many weaknesses and is a near force of nature as a wizard."

There was a burning feeling in her chest that made Hermione smile. "That's alright. Harry and I are forces of nature as well."

Nodding, Albus said nothing until he cautioned, "You must never underestimate him, though. Even though he has diminished himself through his activities, what remains is still an extraordinary being. More intelligent and magically powerful than me," nodding to James he added, "A better speaker than Lord Richmond and more savage than a shark. Never, ever underestimate him. It would be the last thing you would ever do."

Harry murmured, "I believe I have enough experience with the man to understand that he is a formidable foe. To which weaknesses are you referring?"

Dumbledore nodded gravely. At least he has the honesty to admit that Harry is right, Hermione thought scathingly.

"Do you recall his spell selection the last time you faced him?" Dumbledore asked.

Hermione shuddered. She didn't like to think of that night at all, much less analyse the Monster's behaviour. But that's part of the problem. Being terrified of him gives him power. Power to defeat me.

Turning her intellect to the task, Hermione thought. She heard Harry tell Dumbledore, "First he cast a Reductor at my feet. That was just a proverbial warning shot to shut my yob." She felt him look to his Dad, "He said something about me talking as much as my Dad and about as funny, too."

Hermione smiled briefly, the next events becoming vividly clear for her. It was the beginning of the engagement. Earth Shaker, Fire, the transfigured wolves followed by the Sleeping Spell.

None had touched Voldemort.

Nodding the old wizard commented, "His body is nearly invulnerable to the elements. Fire may redden his skin, but not much more. The wolves were a good idea. Should you meet him again where he is without his followers, that approach would be a good distractor so that you could press your attack. As it was, I'm sure that your transfigurations kept the Death Eaters busy. The Sleeping spell…I am unsure as to why that failed to affect him. Did you see him when you cast it?"

Harry shook his head, "He was obscured by the fire."

Pursing his lips, the old man motioned for Harry to continue.

"Well, he Revived the sleeping Death Eaters before casting the Killing Curse. Then there was a deluge of spells, the only one I recognized was the Entrail Expelling curse."

"Was the first spell a dark orange followed by a purple pulsing beam and then the Entrail Expelling curse?"

Hermione was surprised, but then this was probably part of Dumbledore's point. "Yes, they were," Harry replied.

"Most likely, they were the Insanity curse, the Blood Boiling hex followed by the Entrail Expelling curse. That is his usual opening after the Killing curse. Unfortunately, he usually doesn't need to cast anything after the Killing curse, though."

"That's something we can exploit," Lily observed. It was the first thing she'd said after her little diatribe about Snape.

Hermione nodded before frowning. "How?"

"I don't know. Yet," Lily replied in a harsh whisper.

Picking up his thread, Harry wrapped up, "There was a ward that incinerated organic matter. Nifty, that was. Then there was his endgame spell."

Nodding, Albus asked, "It affected you in the same manner as the Draught of the Living Dead?"

Harry nodded.

"Hmm, I wonder what the power requirements are for that spell?" Dumbledore muttered to himself. Dismissing the digression, he turned to Hermione, "And your experience, your Ladyship?"

"Sheilds. I kept up a constant attack. The lightning got through his defences, but at that point, I was empty. Then you arrived."

"That is the only manner of attacking Lord Voldemort that I have found to be successful. Attack, press the attack and then push to the last reserve." The room had become deathly silent as Harry and the old man regarded each other. The Defeater of Grindlewald told the Prophesized One, "It was similar with Gellert. While I was more skilled in esoteric aspects of magic and had a wider repertoire of spells to bring against him, his immense magical strength and agility of mind were an equalizer."

Hermione wondered what kind of wizard Albus Dumbledore would cede pride of place in the intelligence department. First, it had been Voldemort, now Grindlewald.

"Lord Voldemort is arrogance personified, as was Grindlewald. It is another weakness to exploit."

"He sure loves to talk about how great he is," Harry commented drily.

"That's no lie," James concurred.

Silently, Lily conjured a parchment and pen. The scratch-scritch of the nib on the parchment was loud in the silence. Off in the distance, Hermione heard the kee of a hunting hawk while the wind wended through the trees.

Seeing that Lily was absorbed in her notes, the Headmaster continued. "Arrogance, a depleted humanity which may or may not affect his logic centre. He is not diminished physically, far from it. Mentally, he is more of a beast. Look at his aggressive vitriol whenever you meet with him."

"Hold on," James interrupted. "You are proposing that Voldemort is slowly losing his grip on reality due to all the repulsive rituals he's done over the years."

"I am," Dumbledore nodded.

"This is the same wizard who successfully planned and executed his resurrection, the overnight takeover of the Ministry, the non-magical Ministry and nearly killed his prophesized opponent. Sorry, but the two don't reconcile."

Dumbledore was silent for a long moment. "I know that the takeover of the ministry was not Voldemort's plan, but rather one of his follower's plans that he approved."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. Again, Dumbledore had knowledge of the inner workings of the Dark Circle that he ought not to have. How?

"Who?" Sirius asked.

"Actually it was a collaborative plan between Lucius Malfoy and Joseph Jugson."

Hermione did as the rest of them in unconscious imitation. Leaning back in her chair, her face adopted an expression of contemplation. Voldemort is taking input as opposed to his autocrat method of ruling his followers. "But what does it mean?" Hermione asked aloud, not realizing that she'd spoken.

"That, Lady Hermione, is the question, indeed," Dumbledore replied.

Again, they were silent, digesting the information.

Sitting forward, Dumbledore told Harry, "I don't believe there's more to be accomplished today. There is much to consider, much to plan, discard then plan again. In my experience, one can sharpen the sword only so much. You are already a deadly wizard, my Lord. The question is how to best focus that deadliness."

Reluctantly, Hermione agreed. I wish there was a ritual, or a spell that would make the Monster disappear. Chiding herself for the silliness, Evil doesn't disappear, it's only vanquished for a bit. It recedes, then grows again.

Glancing between the contemplative Harry and Dumbledore, Until a Champion stands forth to do battle against the darkness, banishing it for a bit.

Standing, Dumbledore told Harry, "I shall return in two days. We can compare notes and I can see what you can do with that wand of yours." Hermione thought there was an eager tone in the Headmaster's voice. Maybe he was itching for a proper opponent for once.

"Two days," Harry replied with a nod.

A/N

1. I own nothing. Thanks to all who reviewed the first nineteen chapters of Last Casualties. Story status, as always, can be found on my Author's page on fanfiction (dot) net. Mostly I update the status on Mondays. Once in a while.

2. Recommendation for this chapter Could Have Been, by leedee. It's a really neat `what if' AU that I find very moving. Find it on FFdotnet and Portkey.

3. Alright. Why was Harry introduced as `Earl of Richmond'? Because the eldest son of a Duke, Marquess or an Earl can use one of their father's subsidiary title as `courtesy titles'. James is still the Duke of Shrewsbury, the Earl of Richmond and the Baron Potter of Gwynedd, though. That's why in earlier chapters I had James introduce Harry as `Lord Potter' as in ` Baron Potter'. Now that James is Shrewsbury, Harry is introduced as `Earl of Richmond'. The lack of `The' in front of Earl is indicative of the courtesy-ness of the title (if that's a word). Eldest daughters (Hermione) do not have a courtesy title unless they're married to a courtesy peer. When Harry and Hermione marry, she'll be Countess of Richmond by courtesy and eventually the Duchess of Shrewsbury etc… when James passes on. Thus endeth the lesson…

Chapter complete 5/6/12

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