Unofficial Portkey Archive

Chapter 22

Harry was studying a map of Northern Wales, William at his side. On the other side of the wide table, Hermione and Alex made lists. The brunette witch was focused on the search for the elusive Dormred ap Morag. Her assumption was that once they inserted into Britain, they wouldn't come out unless the situation was dire. Therefore, they needed to bring much with them.

Sirius was in Rome purchasing more dragon bone ward plates while Remus had headed to Morocco. There'd been a rumour of some illicit Demiguise cloth available for those with the money to pay. Susan was researching magical tailoring process should Remus' efforts bear fruit.

Neville and Lily had headed to the South African Dragon Reserve, Draak Vuur. Everyone felt that Fields of Fire in Romania was too close to home for anonymous purchases. They were acquiring hundreds of pounds of dragon dung fertilizer. Should the worst happen and dark magic was used to raze the Potter holding farms, then the dragon dung could be used as a stabilizing agent in the rituals needed to cleanse the lands. Otherwise, it could be ploughed under the soil should the damage have been inflicted via other means.

Alex was making a list so that she could kit out a fair sized trauma ward. The willowy blonde healer and lover of Remus Lupin was working under the same assumption as Hermione: Once in, they weren't coming out.

For the first few days after the family resolved to deal with the personal threat posed by Dormred ap Morag and his followers, Hermione had been conflicted. Intellectually, she knew that this man was the more present threat to the family. If left unchecked, he very well could escalate his damaging and destructive behaviour until he was as significant threat to the family as Voldemort currently posed. Dealing with him now was the equivalent of Dumbledore squashing Tom Riddle back in the 50's, before he posed any threat to the rest of the world. Everyone agreed that they were most likely ending the threat of an ascendant Dark Lord before he was fully realized.

In her heart, though, she wanted to contract out this killing to someone else so they could get on with the real business of destroying - Vanquishing as it were - Lord Voldemort. The threat to them all, but to Harry in particular, scared her silly.

Hearing Harry tap the map, Hermione refocused on her list as he told the Prince, "So, this is the area where Rowan Hill resides. According to Grandfather Cadfael, the original Dormred lived south of the family…so about here."

"What about the estuary?" William asked.

"What about it?" Harry wondered.

"They could have become fisherman after your ancestors razed their lands."

A part of Hermione's brain doubted what Billy was offering. So, too, did Harry. "It's possible, but they could have moved up here," she glanced up to see him point to the lowlands of the Cambrians. "That would have given them cover and places to hide. I'd think that the survivors would have wanted to hide."

"That was eleven hundred years ago," William observed.

"True. So we start there and circle out in a widening path." Hermione glanced up again, seeing her betrothed watching her.

"I've got them here on the list. Sirius says he knows where to get them," she replied to his unasked question.

"What?" a puzzled Billy asked.

"Ward detectors. Very expensive and very rare, but they glow when in the presence of specific wards. The stronger the ward, the brighter the glow. They'll glow red for anti-Apparition or blue for a Barrier ward. There're seven different colours for the differing types of wards."

"And where there're wards, there's witches and wizards," Billy summarized.

"Spot on."

Her list went on growing. Ten thousand galleons. Magical tent. Food for six months. Bedding. Five hundred thousand pounds in cash. Stacks of parchment and paper. Pens. Jackets and gloves. Insect repellent.

There was an eerie calmness about all their planning. Because of the few short operations back to Voldemort controlled Britain, the family didn't have a huge `unknown' quality about their effort. At the same time, Hermione was assuming a worst case scenario. The purely analytical part of her mind admitted and even accepted that one of them may die while searching for the elusive Dormred ap Morag.

The list ran on.

She was making a mix of magical and mundane items. Sirius had guaranteed that within their compound, they'd be able to cast any spell without detection. However, moving outside of the warded area would make any spells they cast detectable by the Voldemort controlled sensors in the bowels of the Ministry for Magic.

Amelia had told James that the sensors usually tuned to underage magic users would have been retuned by now. However, none of the family had any misconceptions who the sensors would be attuned.

Very deliberately, Hermione wrote, `Handguns'. After a moment, she added, `Hunting Knives'.

A sense of dread settled over her that she shook off immediately. There was little difference between firing a 9mm bullet into the brain of a man and punching a fist sized hole in his chest with the Reductor curse. Somehow, it felt different, though. Hermione had seen first-hand how brutal magical combat could be. She'd ruthlessly eviscerated men using spells while crushing another's windpipe with a well placed punch.

It's war, she mused. We've all done horrible things and will do worse before this is over.

The muted crack caused all in the library to pause their efforts. No matter how long they lived under the nigh impenetrable wards at La Retirada, the sound of Apparition always put them on edge.

In the hall there came a muffled thump followed by a grunt of effort. Remus came into the room directly.

"Did you get some?" Harry asked.

Remus smirked. On occasion, Hermione would doubt that Remus had been as active a Marauder as Padfoot or Prongs. Right now, Mr Moony was making an appearance.

"If an entire bolt of Demiguise cloth counts as `some', then I'd have to say that I was successful."

The room surged in a swell of chatter and surprised exclamations. With incredible self-satisfaction and a hint of smugness, Remus took a seat next to the sniggering Alex.

"It took me a bit to find the dealer, but when I did, I was able to convince him that he really ought to sell to me. Eventually, he came to my way of thinking. After a very generous payment, I departed with the entirety of his stock."

The look on his face, combined with his language warned Hermione that she really didn't want to ask Remus any of the particulars of the transaction. He could've threatened the man with a Full Moon Visit for all she knew. Since the Fall of Britain, Remus had become far more vicious in his dealings with those outside the family.

Susan headed out the door, Remus at her side as they started the plan to make as many cloaks as possible out of the cloth. The more the better. While all the `raiders' were magically strong and capable, their true strength lay in their stealth and anonymity. It's very easy to hide from the red eye of Voldemort in the tall grass of the savannah. It's much harder to slug it out with the massed hordes of the Death Eaters when backed into a corner.

A tremor passed through Hermione. She watched Harry and William chatting about whatever they were discussing. Seeing him in the suspended animation of the Draught of the Living Death had nearly destroyed her. Should she lose him to the Reaper, Hermione had no doubt that she'd kamikaze the occupied Ministry building taking as many of the dark robed bastards with her as she could muster.

Shaking off the gloomy thoughts, Hermione turned back to her list.

Cooking utensils. Credit cards to mundane bank accounts. Sandwich bags. Maps covering all of Britain. Just because they planned to stay in Wales didn't mean they wouldn't end up in Yorkshire running down this maniac.

It also didn't mean they wouldn't meet up with the Death Eaters.

Hermione and Harry had a very serious discussion about that possibility.

"What should we do?" he had mused aloud. "Should we maintain our cover by leaving the scene as quickly as possible or kill them all?"

In retrospect, it seemed an incredibly bloodthirsty proposition, but the reality of the situation was that even if they should kill Voldemort, his followers were just as capable of resistance as their leader. In fact, Remus had offered that the followers of Voldemort gave him legitimacy. Should the Death Eaters abandon him, the Dark Lord would be merely one more psycho with a wand.

She had replied to his musings, "I think we've to leave. Our primary mission is to eradicate Dormred and any adherents he has."

His unblinking gaze had been unnerving. After a long moment, he'd whispered, "My main mission in this war is to kill Tom Riddle. Dormred ap Morag is a speed bump on the way. If I get a chance to make a sizable dent in the operations of the Death Eaters, I'll take it."

She'd been silent. He was right.

"Hermione?"

Shaken out of her considerations, she found her mother at her shoulder. Blinking, she greeted her mother, "Hi, mum. What's up?"

There was a pensive expression on Alice Granger's face. "Could your Dad and I have a few moments of your time? Out on the veranda?"

Hermione blinked again. The few conversations the Grangers had over the previous weeks had been less than civil. "Sure. Let me pick up here and I'll be right out."

With a relieved expression, Alice replied, "Great. I'll see you out there."

Capping her ink well, Hermione caught Harry's eye. He'd watched the exchange with a gimlet eye. Beckoning him with a jerk of her chin, she stacked her list.

"You want me to come with you?" he asked. His concern and protectiveness was palpable.

Smiling, she kissed him quickly. "Love you, but no. I can talk to my parents all by my little lonesome."

"Ok," he muttered with disbelief. She kissed him again. His solicitousness was endearing.

Heading out to the veranda, Hermione supressed a pang of fear. Her parents had hurt her terribly when they'd rejected her the previous fall. Nearly a year ago, she mused to herself. Their relationship had been extremely rocky since she'd rescued them from occupied Britain. Squabbles were commonplace. Occasionally, they'd escalate to full blown shouting matches.

When she was quiet and at peace, Hermione was able to admit that on more than one occasion, she'd been at fault for the argument. It was unpleasant, but at the same time, the situation was confusing. Analysing the situation, she could intellectually see where she or they could have been more mature, understanding or honest. Doing it in the maelstrom of emotion and pain was an entirely different thing. Alongside the many `difficulties' she had many late night talks with Harry. Neither saw a solution in the near future. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door.

Her Dad had been looking out to sea while her Mum was pouring tea. There was such a sense of normalcy about the scene that she had to force herself to remember that her parents had removed themselves from her life by their own choice.

Resentment flared. The smile slipped off her face.

Sitting, she thanked her mother for the tea. After a quick sip, she nodded to Alice. "What can I do for you?" she asked. There was too much to be done to waste time on chitchat.

Her Dad looked at the table, as he always did when ordering his thoughts. Finally, he admitted, "I've made many mistakes as your father." When he glanced at her, she saw pain in his expression that she'd never seen before: remorse, guilt and even shame. Settling, she paid closer attention.

"My mistakes aren't limited to this last ten months or so. Those mistakes are just the most ugly." He took a deep breath and sipped his tea. It seemed to Hermione that something momentous was building. "After I removed my head from my fourth point of contact recently," he smiled grimly at the silent reproaches from both his wife and daughter, "I'd hoped that things would improve between us all."

Hermione sighed softly. If anything, their relations had degraded further.

"I realize, admit and own to my behaviour being hurtful. I've done things that are despicable and loathsome." Hermione's eyebrows jumped up. His milquetoast apology from weeks ago had rankled. This was an unequivocal assumption of guilt. While not completely true, it was still welcome. "I'm putting forth all my energies to make amends as best I can for that…" he searched for the right words, "Let's just say `bad behaviour' as a catch all term."

A quick nod was sufficient to convey her mood. With his absolute assumption of his behaviour, this was a good enough term for the conversation.

"We're beginning to think that maybe it would be best if your Mother and I moved into a different house to give us all some space."

The words he spoke were shocking enough but the expression on Steven Granger's face stunned his daughter. He was visibly terrified. Her brain caught up to the situation, overriding her emotion. Of course, he was scared. He'd bollixed everything very badly so far, and it seemed that he was frightened of making the situation worse.

"Honey," her Mum began with a tentative voice. "You all are planning this big operation. We feel that our presence is a distraction. Things are so emotional right now for everyone. I believe that we all want to re-establish a relationship, but…well." Alice paused before taking a leap, "As your father said, we've made some horrid choices and done some worse things. I understand and own that we've hurt and angered you and most everyone else in the house. At the same time, we're not punching bags. It seems that every time we turn about there's a veritable punch in the nose waiting for us."

There was a void of emotion in Hermione as her mother trailed off. The woman was nearly wincing as she waited for a reaction. Deep inside, Hermione felt the burn of resentment flare. After what they've done, she dares…? Smothering the thought, the daughter of Steven and Alice Granger tried honestly to consider what her parents were saying.

Removing the names or the history between them all, Hermione had to admit that a mature relationship between parents and an adult child didn't consist of verbal beatings and reprimands. There wasn't heaping of abuse on one party from the other. When a wrong was done, they would attempt to move past it in an adult manner.

That's not what'd been happening between the elder Grangers and everyone else at La Retirada. Reflecting on the situation, it seemed that everyone had had a shot at her parents. At the time, it'd been very satisfying. Every time someone had taken a whack at her parents, her resentment had been fired and fed, justifying her on going anger, feeding her rancour.

It's very easy to be resentful, convicting the other party time and again of their guilt. It's much harder to forgive so as to attempt to build a new relationship. It wasn't fair to any of them to continually punish the elder Grangers for their sins.

Is it so hard to forgive? a voice whispered in her ear. Do you want to forgive? Are they worth it?

The low level, simmering anger that had been her constant companion these past months began to fizzle. Remorse crept in on the edges of her emotional landscape, clouding and clearing it at the same time. The stark realization shocked her and rocked Hermione to her foundation.

Do you really want them in your life?

After the forced exodus from Britain, Hermione had reflexively told her parents that she wanted a relationship with them. Now that she had some time and perspective, the brunette witch wondered at the wisdom of her words. Life was complicated enough with the war, did she really need this distraction as well?

There was a swirl of emotion inside her heart. Hermione had always been ruled by her logic and head (except when it came to Harry) but this situation was confusing her. She wanted her parents in her life, but it was so hard. Her Dad could be such a wanker and her Mum such a shrew that Hermione was sorely tempted to chuck them in the bin.

I've done very well without you for the last year, thank you very much.

Shaking her head, Hermione realized that her resentment and anger were talking, again. Understanding washed over her like warm water from the shower. "I think that things are really tough right now," she began.

Poking a leaf that had rested on the table, Hermione mused, "I don't think that I've ever been under such stress and strain as I am now." Looking up, she told her parents, "The Queen herself has charged us with retaking the country. It doesn't get much bigger than that.

"I admit that I've not been my best lately." Pausing, she considered her words. "I hate to say it, but I've not put much time or effort into our relationship and that's done none of us any favours."

Her face became hard, "There are some significant barriers to be overcome that stand tall between us." Both parents nodded solemnly. "Unfortunately, my priority right now is the war. It's becoming uglier as time passes. The `disappearances' have been increasing across the country. More and more people are being taken in the middle of the night. Most likely, they're being executed before being disposed of in a magical way. It used to be an irregular occurrence, but Mr Weasley told James the other day that they estimate twenty to fifty persons per night are being executed."

The three were silent, digesting the news. On the whole, the Granger parents had been uninvolved and, therefore, unknowing of the status of Voldemort controlled Britain. "It sounds like the 1930s in Germany," Steven commented with heavy gravity. Hermione nodded. "It's worse than that. There's rumour that the Voldemort government is putting pressure on the Goblins to open certain vaults."

There was silence. Steven and Alice mayn't have realized the seriousness of that statement, but Hermione did. When Amelia and James had arranged for the Ministry in Exile to divert all the gold from the Ministry vaults, Voldemort was left penniless to run his regime. Granted, Lucius Malfoy, Joseph Jugson and the other fabulously wealthy Death Eaters still retained access to their vaults, but no private citizen can afford to finance the operation of a government for an extended period of time.

"Should Voldemort put too much pressure on the Goblins, they could simply close their doors. Of course, that would cause an immediate implosion of the British Magical economy." She paused as her father's face paled. He drew the correct conclusion.

"From there, the silent, simmering war would explode into open conflict. The Statute of Secrecy would be torn asunder, war with the Mundane world a distinct possibility. Invasion. Nuclear Weapons. Chemical Weapons Biological Warfare. The Magical world has no defence from those attacks. The UK would be a Wasteland."

Blinking away the horrific visual conjuration of her analysis, Hermione became more confident in her earlier conclusions. She had tasks in front of her that far outweighed repairing the relationship with her parents. The deep pain, the entrenched resentment, the underlying fear and the opening of her eyes to her parents' less than wonderful traits demanded more attention and energy than Hermione was willing or able to devote.

Summoning the most positive and happy tone that she could muster, Hermione asked, "Where will you go?"

.oOo.

"You got a minute?"

Hestia nodded without looking up. The sadness, fear, apprehension and dread had been ebbing and flowing all day. When Sirius settled next to her on the bed, she nearly sobbed.

"You're worried about me," he stated with certainty.

Wordlessly, she nodded. He'd been such a bloody mess when James dragged him out of occupied Britain. The work with Healer Plummer had been painful, drawn out and slowly - oh so slowly - beginning to bear fruit. Sirius hadn't a nightmare in over three weeks. He'd never gone three days before without a night where he woke screaming. It felt as if he were chucking all the progress, peace and happiness into an incinerator. The worst part was that he seemed to want to sacrifice it all - even her - to the destructive maw of the war.

Silently, they sat in the shadows of the night as the darkness grew, encircling them. Eventually, it swallowed them whole so that she could barely make out his features.

His surprisingly soft hand gently cradled her own. Like a lifeline, she held on tightly. They didn't have a sappy relationship like Remus and Alex or even Harry and Hermione. She loved Sirius and he loved her but they were just as happy working apart as they were loving together. A critical factor in her ability to `work apart' from him was her faith that he was well. When he'd been torturing himself in the aftermath of the fall of Britain, she'd been a wreck.

Now, she was terrified that he was going to hurl himself back into his personal pit of pain, dragging her down with him.

In the end, it all came back to one thing.

"I love you," she whispered.

"As I love you," he replied in a similar tone. The strain in his voice that she expected to hear was missing, causing her to finally look at him.

He was watching her intently. The gleam of his eyes in the moonlight cast an ominous air about him.

"I need to go," he told her. Holding up his hand, he added, "Don't mistake me. I can't be part of the hunter group that Harry, Hermione and Moony are running. That would tear me up."

She watched him, her fear a living thing; consuming and destroying. It had to be evident in her eyes as he reached for her, a consoling and reassuring expression on his face.

"I am fully aware of what I can and can't do," he jibed with a hint of Padfoot sneaking through the frozen mask of his expression.

She knew him well enough to know that he was hiding a great fear. In recent months, he'd begun to truly become free of Azkaban, his horrid family of origin and finally beginning to breathe the air of freedom. He didn't want to go back and Hestia knew it.

"I can't go back to that. I know that."

The small sigh of relief that escaped her lips didn't go unnoticed.

"I may be an arse, but I'm not stupid," he snarked.

Hestia couldn't help herself. The arched eyebrow and sarcastic curl of her lip told lie to his statement.

"Oh, come on, then!" he protested, his lips curling into his own smile.

The wisp of humour seemed to dispel the storm clouds of her fear and anxiety. With more affection than desperation, she repeated, "I love you."

He smirked before rolling on top of her. "Love you too."

.oOo.

"Do you have everything?" James asked.

It was nearly three in the morning. Harry and Hermione had been driving the preparations for their insertion into occupied Britain. Remus and Susan had been able to tailor four invisibility cloaks. Sirius had all the ward stones for which he could ever wish. Alex could deal with nearly any magical or mundane injury. Neville was gloating over his new stash of four tonnes of dragon dung and another tonne of manitcore dung.

Hermione had completed her part of the list. Earlier in the day, Harry and Remus had purchased the last few items. Included among the final purchases was an upgraded portable magical stove and seven pistols. Harry deferred to Remus, as The Boy-Who-Lived had no experience with handguns and Remus seemed to know his way about the Greek gun store. Now, the Potter family was the proud owner of a brace of Colt model 1911 .45 calibre pistols.

Sirius immediately went to work on them. Sticking charms, runes for auto conjuration of new rounds as the magazine emptied, Ever Clean charms and so on. No wonder his old motorbike had so many magical features.

"Yeah, I think we are," Harry told his Dad. James watched him go over the list one last time. Nodding, his son tossed the list on the table. "We're as ready as can be."

James nodded. "I wish I could come with you." The regret in his voice was real. "Not only do I feel like I should be there, but I also think it would be a lot of fun."

Harry half smiled at the jibe before yawning widely.

"Does Hermione have the Omni-books?" the Father Who Lived asked.

Harry nodded. "She packed them extra special with a zillion protection charms on them. I thought she was going to throw me over for the Hogwarts book."

James smiled. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. The vice grip about his heart cinched up a few more turns. No matter how many times he let go of his son, it never got any easier. "This is the hardest part." After a few cleansing breaths, he saw his son watching him closely. "I have to let you go and it's not easy." Holding up his hand at Harry's frown, James added, "I know you're fully capable. I know that you can kick serious arse and defend the others should that be necessary."

Placing his hand over his heart, James added with a weak grin, "But here… here it's not easy. When you and Hermione have kids of your own, you'll understand."

Harry nodded in acquiescence. In a low voice, he commented, "This isn't going to be fun."

Shaking his head, James agreed, "No, it won't"

They were quiet again. I was that time of night when secrets were told. Bodies are exhausted, mental defences and inhibitions ebb while the aloneness of the only two awake persons in the house pull them together in an intimacy that is reserved for the sleepless.

"I love you, Dad."

"Love you, too, son." James replied before waiting. It seemed that Harry wanted to say something but was working up his nerve.

"I don't want you to think…less of me…because of what we're about to do."

Once more, regret flooded James. He was asking his son to do a task that James felt that he should be doing. If it weren't for the ICW and his foreign office responsibilities, James would have been leading the charge to end this perpetual blood feud between House Potter and the descendants of Dormred ap Morag. As it was, he couldn't and that restriction chafed on the head of House Potter.

Laying his large hand on Harry's shoulder, James softly reassured his son, "Never. I have only the highest respect for you."

He barely heard the soft sigh of relief. "How's Mum?"

James shrugged. "Today she was grumpy. I keep telling her that she's beautiful, but she feels fat and ugly." Leaning into his son in a conspiratorial manner, he advised, "When Hermione is pregnant; ignore ninety five percent of her whinging. The rest you better act on immediately."

Harry nodded for a second until his face became clouded. Through another yawn, he asked, "Which part is `the ignore' and which is `the act on'?"

James chuckled, "That's for you to figure out."

"Thanks."

"Anytime."

"Well," Harry began as he stood, "I think I'll head to bed. Big day tomorrow."

"Have fun on your adventure," James half-heartedly teased. There was no way he could honestly express the fear and terror for his son that was centred on the upcoming operation, so he relied on his old standby: humour.

Harry snorted as he turned toward his and Hermione's room. "Yeah, adventure: danger and pain happening to someone else, very far from where you're stood."

.oOo.

They infiltrated the country in separate groups. Sirius lead the way, boarding the first plane from Paris to Heathrow. Through the use of runes, his briefcase had been expanded so it held the non-reactive ward plates. A minor Confundus cluster of runes prevented the security and customs personnel from investigating too closely the carryon luggage. He also had three months of food in between the wrapped stacks of cash. Padfoot slowly feigned reading The Financial Times, his Armani suit completing the illusion of a businessman returning to London from a business jaunt to the Continent.

.oOo.

Harry, Hermione, Neville and Susan were dressed in jeans and hoodies; backpacks and satchels over their shoulders as they sat in the common area of the Calais to Dover ferry. They carried the bulk of the group's supplies in their bags. Sirius had been insistent about expanding the bags by runes instead of a Space Expansion charm. Rune expansions weren't detectable via the most common detection spells used.

.oOo.

Remus and Alex were the picture of a young married couple as they road in the Chunnel train. Between them, they carried all the medical supplies and another load of cash. While each member of the team had funds, Sirius and Remus were tasked with major purchases.

.oOo.

After breezing through customs, Sirius headed to the taxi stand. The black car whisked him to his first destination: Barclays.

.oOo.

"Pardon, monsieur."

Remus looked up to see a conductor standing next to his and Alex's row. "Oui?" he replied. Their cover was a young French couple heading to London to see the sights.

"There has been a minor difficulty with your luggage. If you and your wife would please follow me, I'm sure we can resolve everything quickly."

"Of course," Remus replied smoothly. Levering himself to his feet, he exerted all his will while calling on his experience as a Marauder to keep his expression one of friendly cooperation. Handing Alex out of her seat, he saw her face tighten for a moment. They had no luggage aside from her magically expanded purse.

Following the conductor aft, Remus surreptitiously palmed his knife. It was a ceramic creation by a Polish friend of his. Not detectable by mundane means, he preferred to have a non-magical solution should the need arise. Spellfire would serve as a beacon to the forces of Voldemort that something was happening that ought not occur. Even though they were currently seventy five metres under the Channel, the magic detectors in London would easily detect the activity in the Chunnel. There would be men in masks waiting at the station should he cast a spell. While later the option to lure out Death Eaters through pre-planned use of magic could be a viable plan, right now it was suicide.

"Right through here, monsieur and madame," the conductor gestured with his hand to the divider between the cars.

Scanning right and left as he opened the door, Remus saw no signs of a trap. Yet.

Stepping through the doorway into the baggage car, he waited for the attendant. Alex was next. He caught her eye. A discreet nod told her the plan.

The conductor paused, glancing about the car. It seemed the pretence of a luggage problem was being discarded.

Before the trap could be sprung, Remus and Alex reversed it. "Thank you so much for your assistance," Alex purred while rubbing the man's arm provocatively. The distraction worked.

No matter if the man was a Death Eater, a suborned conductor or just a butthole, few men on the planet can ignore a beautiful woman's focused attention.

As the dark haired conductor gaped at Alex, Remus moved. Lightning fast, his arm lashed out. The butt of the knife struck the man at the base of the skull, rendering the enemy operative unconscious. Bloodstains at this point would be more a liability than the sure incapacitation of their opponent.

Without looking, he grabbed the unconscious man under the armpits dragging him to the door. A peek through the window showed no one on the other side. A quick motion had the door open. A shove sent the man out of the compartment and under the crushing wheels of the train.

"Here," Alex's voice urged.

Turning, he saw his girlfriend's hand holding a cloak. Whirling it about his shoulders, he flipped the hood over his head just as the door opened.

He slipped into the narrow opening between two crates as four burly men prowled into the baggage car.

"Spread out. He was definitely a wolf. If she's not, then she's still dead."

Remus' nostrils flared as he adjusted his grip on his knife. He knew that Alex was perfectly capable of taking care of herself. While not a warrior on the level of Hermione or even Lily, she was still a vicious fighter. The urge to protect his mate was still strong, though. She's mine!

The baggage compartment was divided into three rows. Stacks of luggage piled against the walls of the car had two other stacks of luggage. The four men split up, the pair coming close to Remus.

Joy.

There was a muffled thud from the far side of the compartment. Both of Remus' targets looked toward the sound, bobbing between the stacked trunks and cases in a vain attempt to see what caused the noise. They shared a glance before the older one said, "Go."

Remus waited until the younger man took a step before he struck. Reversing the knife, he took a deep breath before striking the older man with a strong overhand stab. He felt the six inch blade slide between the now dead man's clavicle and ribcage. With his heart in tatters, the man was dead nearly instantly.

Spinning, a stray though crossed his mind that it must seem odd - a now visible arm holding a bloody knife whipping through the air with no body visible. Ignoring the thought, he plunged the knife in the other man's neck as he turned back to his compatriot.

A gurgle preceded his death.

Stooping, Remus lowered the other man to the floor, minimizing the noise as much as possible. Another thud across the car prompted him to call out a muted question, "Love?"

"'M alright. This one is bloody heavy, though.'

Remus grinned to himself. She had the oddest sense of humour. Scooping his second victim under the armpits, he dragged him to the door. Another quick shove and the second body, followed by the third, fourth and fifth bodies of the day were deposited under the train.

Dusting his hands after the work was completed, Remus idly wondered if the remains would ever be found.

Turning, he saw Alex standing there. More accurately, he saw her head as the hood to her cloak had been thrown back. "Alright?" he asked.

She nodded. "Not fun."

"No," he agreed.

"Do you think there're any more?"

He pulled at his face as he considered. "I don't think so. No one outside the family knew we were coming, so I don't think they'll have increased border security yet. From what the leader said it looks like they've found a way to identify lycanthropes. That must have been the trigger for their action. Either way, I think we stay here under the cloaks for the rest of the ride." Reaching for his watch, he was bothered that it was missing. "How much longer?"

She twisted her arm, "Twenty two minutes."

"Damn." Anything could happen in that period of time. Who knew what types of communication equipment the Death Eaters were using? What was their check in schedule? Protocols and procedures?

She nodded in agreement. "At least there won't be any other visitors to the party until the train pulls into the station."

Remus nodded absently as he looked about the compartment for anything of interest. Apparition or portkey onto a moving object was difficult due to the speed change from a motionless platform (the Earth) to the high speed platform (the train). Magically travelling on to the Chunnel train as it shot through the underground passageway was nearly as hard as a jumping to a bullet train as the Chunnel cars were moving in three dimensions many of the time.

He began to shove large crates and packing cases into place so they could have pre-positioned places to secret themselves should there be more Death Eaters looking for them.

Five minutes later, they settled down under their cloaks to wait out the ride.

.oOo.

James walked hurriedly down the Hall of Nations toward his office. There was no convocation on the schedule for today, but throughout the day he had meetings with the Swedes, Greeks and Spanish in attempts to obtain further public shows of support for the Ministry in Exile. Despite the Greek abstention during the Russian `manoeuvre' about the rules of propriety, James felt that they were some of Britain's strongest allies. He understood their reticence in provoking the Russian Bear.

His hand brushed against the rectangular outline in his pocket. He'd linked another mirror to the ones that Hermione, Sirius, Lily and Remus carried. Trying his best to focus on his day, he offered up the safety of his family to the Gods that Be. Mercilessly shoving his fear to the back corner of his mind, he turned into his office.

"Good morning, your Grace," Agatha greeted him. "You've a busy day. Here's your itinerary…"

.oOo.

Catching a connecting train out of Dover, the teenaged magicals began their rail journey across southern England. Lunch in Cheltenham was tense. Harry insisted the other three eat while he watched for danger. Stuffing his pasty and chips into a bag, he led the way from the food stand back to the platform.

"Harry, it'll be fine," Neville cajoled.

The only reply from the Boy-Who-Lived was a grunt.

Neville shrugged. He'd tried, but they all knew that Harry could be the proverbial immovable object when he'd set his mind on something.

Once they boarded the train, Hermione got in the act. Harry had been standing between the four seats the teens claimed when she clipped, "Harry. Sit down and eat your food." When he glared at her, she added, "Now."

"Fine,' he grumbled.

Trying to put Harry's mind at ease, Neville stood. Motioning to his now empty seat, he told Harry, "I'll watch." Glancing about, Neville murmured, "Bit odd not having our own compartment."

Neville hoped that his casual assumption of the lookout duties would go unchallenged. There was a moment of assessment from his friend before Harry nodded. "Thanks, mate."

Neville ignored Hermione's indignant frown and Susan's annoyed roll of her eyes. Gender roles aside, this was about assuaging Harry's obvious fears, not a `Me Caveman' moment.

With Neville doing his level best to casually watch the car for anyone paying too close attention to the foursome, the train rolled closer to Cardiff.

.oOo.

It's amazing how four hundred thousand pounds in cash can motivate a banker.

Sirius walked out of the bank with a still warm credit card in his pocket and freshly printed cheques in his briefcase. When Hermione had explained the mundane methods of payment, he thought that the Wizarding world was mad not to adopt these other methods. His money bag had been a serious pain in his arse on more than one occasion. This credit card business was ingenious.

Sliding into the backseat of the first hackney he could flag down, Padfoot ordered, "Take me to the closest Land Rover dealer."

.oOo.

The Eurostar train rolled into the Folkestone terminus. The huge train braked the last mile in order to line up to the seven hundred odd metres of platform.

Remus and Alex were ready. Still under their cloaks, they stood on opposite the hinge of the luggage car door. The moment, they saw daylight in the crack of the door; they sprang forward, ignoring the startled cries of the attendant who'd just been knocked over by invisible assailants.

Hand in hand, the lovers moved to their rendezvous point. Hopefully, Sirius would be on time with the Rover.

.oOo.

"You sure you want these?"

Harry nodded to the salesman. The early model Yamaha motorcycles were exactly what he wanted. "Five hundred each?" he confirmed with raised eyebrows.

A nod from the middle aged man dressed in a tacky plaid suit preceded Harry digging into his pocket for a thick wad of bills.

Thirty minutes later, with Hermione riding next to him, Harry pulled out of the second hand auto lot; Neville and Susan behind him.

"Head north to the M4," Hermione shouted to him over the wind. Harry nodded in reply. At first, he'd wanted to buy four Ducati for them to ride. Hermione had quickly trumped that idea. The idea of four mid-teens riding some of the most expensive motorbikes made was ludicrous. In addition, they'd draw too much attention to themselves. The used Yamahas were perfect.

With a grin, Harry couldn't help but release his `inner Seeker'. Gunning the engine, he sped down the road.

.oOo.

The purchase of the Land Rover was fast. Paying for a forty thousand pound vehicle with cash will do that.

Rolling down the M20 with Remus and Alex in the car was a bit of a relief to Sirius. While working on his own wasn't too stressful, there was a sense of security and reassurance in being with Moony and his woman.

From the backseat, Remus muttered, "Lily Potter."

Sirius turned off the radio with a jerk of his hand. Alex rolled up the window so they could all hear the discussion better.

"Hello Remus," they heard Lily's voice say. "Everything is fine so far."

Sirius let go a breath he didn't even know he'd been holding. Lily was taking a leave of absence from her position as Chief of Staff for James `in preparation for the baby'. In reality, she was to be the home coordinator of the mission. She was preparing Remus' Wolfsbane potion, coordinating financial deposits to the new Barclays account and a host of other things that the insertion team would be unable to accomplish while in country.

Sirius was grateful he didn't get assigned that job. He was sure he'd be a nutter within five days if he was forced to listen but not participate. The helplessness would be a bitch.

"Right," Remus replied. "Everything moving along here. Had a spot of bother on the Chunnel train, but we took care of it. Pass along that it seems they have the capability to remotely detect lycanthropes. No idea as to the range of this capability. Will call tomorrow at same time."

"Fair winds," Lily began with the first half of their passcode.

"And following seas," Remus finished. All was well. If he were under duress, he'd have replied, "Not in a gale."

The car fell silent. Glancing at the dashboard clock, Sirius saw that it was only twelve fifteen. Glancing over to Alex, he asked, "You have anything to eat in that bag of yours?"

Silently, she rummaged for a bit before handing him a corned beef sandwich.

The urgency to rendezvous with the teens became overpowering. Sirius was fully aware that Harry and Hermione were easily the most powerful warriors in the family. However, that didn't mean that he didn't worry. As Padfoot bit down on the first half of the sandwich, he slammed the accelerator to the floor. The Land Rover shot forward past ninety miles per hour.

No one complained. Sirius doubted any of them would feel safe until they had their own wards up and were safely ensconced underneath them.

.oOo.

Driving the A470 this time of year was a wonderful experience. The tail end of summer left the mountains a full green that was just beginning to show the peeks of the colour burst of fall.

Hermione pulled over behind Harry. She'd been very nervous about riding her own motorbike. "At least it's not a hundred feet in the air," she snarked to Harry and Susan when they'd teased her about it.

After riding the roughly hundred miles from Cardiff to the heart of Snowdonia National Park, she felt in command of her motorbike. She'd even given it a name.

Hiking her leg over the seat, she discovered what `saddle sore' meant. Groaning, the brunette witch waddled over to her boyfriend as he looked over the side of a drop off.

The mountains here were tall and relatively unpopulated with trees. She didn't know if it was due to deforestation or just the natural way here in northern Wales. Either way, her breath was sucked out of her chest and all musings banished when she pulled alongside her betrothed.

Below them was the Llyn Trawsfynydd. A gorgeous man-made lake, it was a clear mere reflecting heaven to earth.

"Yeah, it's something," Harry murmured as he wrapped his arm about her. She stood there, basking in the sights, the feel of his arm about her, the warmth of the afternoon sun and the scents and sounds of the park.

Vaguely, she noticed Neville and Susan assuming a similar stance next to them. Twenty minutes passed in silence as the four teens waited. Glancing at his watch, Harry murmured, "Nev, you and Sue wait here. We'll scout out a place. If we're not back in an hour, raise hell."

.oOo.

"Turn left here."

Sirius was pushing the Land Rover. Alex had expertly guided him through southern England and into Wales with nary a missed turn. Moony was busy in the backseat, arranging his maps and notebooks. Padfoot knew that his friend was worried about the search. Wales wasn't that big, but it's very, very easy for one person to hide - even without magical means.

"The pullover should be up to the left."

.oOo.

Harry squinted up the road as he heard the engine. The nose of a dark green car rounded the bend. "Here they come," he muttered. "I hope."

Surreptitiously, he wormed his hand inside his jacket, fingering the butt of his pistol. Approvingly, he saw Neville do the same. They were in hostile occupied country now, his keyed up nerves finally seemed justified.

The car came close enough so that he recognized the driver. Relaxing a bit, he waited. Sirius bounded out of the car, a big smile on his face. Faintly, Harry returned it. "What was the first thing Peter said to me?" he asked.

Sirius' face darkened. "He said you looked like James."

Nodding, he turned to Remus, "What form does my Patronus take?"

Nodding, the Lycan replied, "A stag."

To Alex he asked, "Which arm did I hurt recently?"

Impatiently, she replied, "Your left. Can we leave off these games and set up our camp now? I have to pee."

A muffled snort of laughter from behind him dispelled the tension. Taking a deep breath, Harry tried to force himself to relax.

Sauntering up to him, Harry's godfather asked, "Did you find a spot?"

"Yeah," he replied as he straddled his bike. Rearranging his satchel, he turned the ignition switch. "Saddle up."

Pressing the start button, the engine whined to life. Everyone took that as their cue to get moving. Bodies hopped on motorbikes and into the Rover. Thirty seconds later, Harry and Hermione led the way down the road.

Two turns off the main road led them all to a service road that the park rangers used to access the interior of the park. Harry whipped off the road, gunning the engine up a wide area that led to a plateau above the remote road.

"Perfect," Remus murmured as he exited the backseat of the Land Rover.

Everyone scampered. Duties had been decided weeks ago in Spain. Sirius and Susan began to lay out the ward stones. There was a series of wards that Sirius was to erect; the first would screen any other magic use from the Ministry detectors.

"I'm a Gryffindor, I'll take care of it...the rest of you can stop hiding now," Sirius muttered as he charged the first rune cluster.

Harry smirked when Susan poked his godfather in the side. "A Hufflepuff helped design this ward schema old man."

"Old man!" Padfoot mock exclaimed as he started laying out the next set of ward stones.

Susan took her pile. "Yes, old man," she snarked as she began to place the dragon bone plates at measured intervals.

Now that Sirius had the anti-magic detection ward erected, the camp flew in to place. Literally.

Four tents jumped out of the teens' satchels, expanding and unfolding as they moved. Tent pegs automatically pinned the collapsible structures in place.

Alex moved inside the tent that was to be their infirmary. A flood of supplies burst from her purse, filling the shelves. Lily's Unpacking spell was very useful.

Remus moved into their `Headquarters Tent'. Most of the maps that he carried were duplicates of those already attached to the walls, but the other supplies that hadn't been entrusted to the tent were unpacked and stored.

Harry quickly unpacked the teens' tent. The two rooms were not segregated by gender but rather by couple. He smiled as he tossed Neville and Susan's bags on to their bed. They'd not been cohabitating in Spain, so this was a new development. I hope they remember Silencing spells, he smiled to himself.

"Hey, lover," he heard Hermione murmured from behind him.

"Hey there, yourself," he whispered as he turned about. She melted into his arms, melding herself to him.

"Alright?" she asked in little more than a whisper.

Harry knew what she was referring to without asking. All day, he'd been hyper alert, waiting for an attack that never materialized. Intellectually, he knew that he'd not be able to sustain that level of awareness for very long else he burn out in short order. There needed to be a balance inside him between awareness and ignorance.

"I'm fine now. When something changes…when the situation is fluid is when we're most exposed and vulnerable. Now that we've our wards up and the group is together, I've a place where we can relax. I'll be fine, you'll see."

She looked into his face and once more he was stuck by how fortunate he was to have her by his side. Hermione looked out for him when he either couldn't or wouldn't take care of himself.

She tugged on his hand, "Come on. We're to cast the Imperturbable charms on the ground so we don't end up sleeping in a muddy mess."

.oOo.

"Your Grace," Rauri began as he bowed low. "Would you care for your luncheon here or in the dining room?" To be honest, the house elf was very worried about his mistress. Her Grace hadn't been eating well of late. With her advancing pregnancy and the stress of Lord Harry, Lady Hermione and the rest being away from home, she needed to keep her energy up. He'd asked his Grace if it would be acceptable to bring another elf - a female - into the household to act as Lady's maid to her Grace for various duties. And there was the other issue to concern him. It was a sign of how worried about her that Rauri was willing to share his family with another elf.

Besides, his Mistress was a Duchess; it was befitting her station that she had a Lady's maid.

The auburn haired witch sighed as she rubbed her face. "In here is fine, Rauri. What's on?"

"A light seafood salad, your Grace."

Another sigh preceded another groan while she stretched. Nervous, he waited.

She seemed to pull herself from her distracted reverie. "Was there anything else, Rauri?"

"I was wondering if you've heard anything from Lord Richmond or the Lady Hermione." He'd never been so forward with the family, but then again, they usually volunteered this information.

Nodding, she set him at ease. "They've rendezvoused and are establishing their site. Remus expects them to begin their efforts tomorrow or the next day at the latest."

The retainer of the Potter family relaxed a bit before tensing again. He'd spoken to his Grace about this, but the Master hadn't given Rauri any guidance. "Speak to her Grace," had been his direction.

"Your Grace, I couldn't help but overhear Lord Richmond relate the substance of his latest vision…" When she tensed, he quickly added, "I would like to do anything to help." To say that Rauri was a bit fond of the family he was bound to serve was like saying that Voldemort was a bit mad.

The glare from the tired, pregnant witch was half-hearted. "Help keep me alive, you mean."

Nodding, the butler admitted the truth of her words.

"There's not much you can do, Rauri."

"Begging your pardon your Grace, but there is something I can do."

Frowning, she asked, "Such as?"

The Mistress had always been kind, or at least fair, to him so he felt no hesitation in his suggestion. Without apprehension, he put forth, "I would like to bring another elf into the household. She would be your lady's maid, as well as, an added layer of security for yourself."

She sat back in her chair, watching him with a half-smile on her face. "You've obviously thought this through. Do you have anyone in mind?"

"I thought to ask Headmaster Dumbledore if he had any elves he'd release to us. Hogwarts is closed, so the bulk of the elves must be idle."

Resignedly, she nodded. "If we must, we must. Thank you, Rauri, for thinking of me and my safety."

Deep inside, he was shocked that thought she needed to mention his concern, so he replied in the only way he could. "Your Grace, I think of nothing else."

With a small crack, he disappeared from La Retirada, appearing in the anteroom to the residence of Albus Dumbledore.

.oOo.

"Athos, my friend, how are you?" James greeted the Greek ambassador.

"I am well, James. Yourself? Your darling wife? How does she do with the child?"

James smiled brightly. Athos Lampros was a big, bluff man with a close cropped beard. His entire person exuded happiness and exuberance for life. One time, though, the ambassador from the Philippines thought to tease a little too much and the big, bluff and hearty man became cold, menacing and intimidating. Jorge Salunga apologized deeply and often after that.

"Lily is finally giving up. She's due in two months and just can't keep up with our schedule here. She's doing most of the coordination from home, but the meetings and whatnot are falling by the wayside."

Lampros nodded. "Will you have someone else standing in for her?"

James shook his head as he poured coffee for the both of them. "No. We're arranging for a nanny to be with us after the baby is born. Lily'll be out for a few months before coming back to snakepit here." The story was reasonable and believable. Most likely, no one would believe the truth anyway. My wife is acting as the commanding General of a covert insertion team which is tracking down a millennia old blood feud opponent with the intention of eliminating them with extreme prejudice while a secondary mission of rehabilitating home farms from fire damage is accomplished. All the while, they intend on gathering as much intelligence as possible about the Voldemort regime to be leveraged at a yet to be determined date in a counterinsurgency operation.

No one would believe that. The baby story was much more believable. And safe. Closing his eyes for a brief moment, James swallowed his fear and anxiety for Harry and the others.

"Yes, yes, the baby. My wife has her hands full with our brood," Lampros waxed as he sat in the proffered chair.

"You have how many now?" James asked as he sipped his coffee.

"Nine beautiful children. Six girls and three boys. The delight of my life."

James smiled while declining to comment. The pleasantries had been exchanged so it was time to get to business.

Athos' face sobered. Half frowning, he began in a subdued tone, "James, my government is in a difficult situation."

There was silence as the large Greek looked for the right words.

"The Russian Bear is growling. So too are his allies, either in open or in secret. Greece has many ties in that sphere. At the same time, my country is firmly convinced that your Dark Lord is a menace that not only has subjugated your fine country, but is a legitimate threat to the world. Maybe not the world…" he backtracked, "But Europe in the very least. Psychopaths like him are never satiated. They always want more."

James nodded his understanding. Greece would be unable to support them publicly, like Spain and Germany had been doing for the last weeks. He wasn't really clear, though, what Greece was offering.

"Athos, Britain understand the difficulties your country faces and wish you all the best in your endeavours. I'm sure that we can establish a more private relationship between the Ministry in Exile and Greece. Many things can be affected in private that cannot be done in public. Once the rightful government is returned to its place, we can discuss a more formal association."

The big Greek's face brightened considerably. "Yes, yes. I believe our intelligence services would like to have discussions with your people."

James grinned, "I'll have Arthur Weasley contact your people today."

.oOo.

"Lily Potter."

Harry smiled when the mirror immediately resolved from his face to the delighted expression of his mother. Never in life would he have foretold how much he'd miss his parents after such a short separation. They'd been back for almost a year, but he'd still lived most of his life without them. If asked, he'd have assumed that the separation would be met with more sang froid than he felt. All that motivated him to make the check in call to his mother this afternoon.

"Harry!" Lily exclaimed as her mouth shaped into a delighted smile.

"Hey, Mum," he smiled in return.

"How are you, sweetie?"

"We're all fine," he replied, savouring the endearment.

The closest Petunia Dursley ever came to an endearment was one night after she'd had too much to drink. She affectionately patted his cheek while calling him, "Our freakish little shit."

He could see her visibly collecting herself as he asked, "How're things back there?"

"Fine," she replied. "Baby is moving along and your Dad is working double tides to make up for me being home. Enough chit chat, what's the news?"

Nodding, Harry began his report. Glancing at his notes, he began, "Sirius is finishing up the portkeys. He'll be sending them along in a box before lunch." Since Sirius was the Secret Keeper for La Retirada, only he could enchant a portkey to that location. The idea was for the team to establish their base camp, then for Sirius to send a box full of portkeys to Spain. That would allow Lily or James to resupply the team fairly easily. It was also how they planned to get Remus his Wolfsbane potion every month.

Lily nodded as he added, "The camp is set up with all wards charged. Hermione and I did a little add on with a Hostile Confusion Ward and a Muggle Repelling Ward, as well. Sirius says the schema is solid and stable.

"Neville is nearly ready to go," he continued glancing at his notes. "He asked for you to look for a means of rapidly infusing nitrogen into the soil. He says that soybeans do this naturally, but wondered if there was a way to do this rapidly using magic." Looking up from his notes, he asked his Mum, "Did that make any sense to you?"

She laughed and his heart warmed. He really loved his mother. "Yes. I'll check around."

Shrugging, he crumpled the paper in his hand. "That's it. We'll begin our sweeps tomorrow. Neville, Susan and Sirius are heading to the first farm tomorrow. I think that Alex will go with them. She mentioned `staving off boredom' more than once."

He watched her nod soberly. "You take care, my son."

His sad grin was all he could muster. "I will. Plus Hermione'll make sure I come home safe. She said that we can marry in Spain right now. The age of consent is twelve."

The image of his mother rolled her eyes, "There's plenty of time for that later. Focus on coming home to see your baby brother or sister." Her familiar green eyes softened, "I love you, son."

"Love you too, Mum."

.oOo.

"Your Grace."

Lily turned away from the mirror in surprise. She was somewhat used to the emotional rollercoaster that her emotions had ridden for the last months. Still, seeing Harry on the other end of the mirror, knowing where he was, what he was doing and what he had yet to do had affected her greatly. Sometimes, she fell into the pattern of thinking of him as her baby boy, despite everything. Old habits were hard to break.

Turning, she saw Rauri standing there, the usual picture of poise and confidence.

"Yes?"

"I have found an elf to act as your Grace's Lady's maid and companion who I believe is suitable. Would you care to meet her?"

She smothered a smile. Most times, Rauri conducted himself with more dignity than her and James combined. She thought he ought to be the Duke. "Of course. Please bring her."

He bowed deeply before disappearing with a pop. A moment later, a double pop-pop announced his return with the new girl.

`Your Grace," he began as the other elf curtsied so deeply as to prostrate herself on the floor, "This is Winky. She was unjustly punished by her former master and now seeks a family to serve. Her experience is significant and suitable to be your Grace's maid."

Lily couldn't believe that she was about to say this. Smiling, she commanded, "Rise, Winky."

The diminutive elf stood. Smoothing the frilly dress she wore, she waited.

"Would you like to join our family, Winky?"

In a voice just above a whisper, the elf replied, "Very much, your Grace." Her dark green hair was combed and lustrous, bobbing as she nodded vigorously.

"Will you vow to keep the secrets of the Potter family and the house of Shrewsbury?"

"Yes, your Grace."

"Will you vow to serve only the Potter family and the house of Shrewsbury?"

"Yes, your Grace."

"Will you vow to protect the Potter family and the house of Shrewsbury as we will, in turn, protect you?"

"Yes, your Grace."

Nodding, Lily glanced to Rauri. Seeing his approval of her questions, she finished, "Say your vow, Winky."

Kneeling, the little elf chanted, "Winky, daughter of Stebbin and Leesy, swears on her life and magic to serve only the Potter family and the house of Shrewsbury. Winky will keep their secrets as her own, never to tell, never to betray her family. Life for life, health for health, magic for magic, Winky will serve and be true to the Potter family and the house of Shrewsbury."

The flash of light sealed the bond. Lily smiled, "Look me in the face, Winky, daughter of Stebbin and Leesy."

The trembling elf looked to Lily. Seeing the hesitancy and fear in her face, Lily smiled. "Welcome to our family."

A tear leaked out of her large eyes as she smiled. "Thank you, your Grace," she whispered.

.oOo.

Amelia was tired. The government in exile had finally finished their consolidation move to the facility provided by the Spanish. It was hot and the then disparate elements of the government were figuring out how to work in the same quarters. Some were falling into old habits of bureaucratic bullshit which threatened to drive the petite redheaded former Auror batshit.

And they'd not found the killer of Dolores Umbridge. Said murderer was probably the spy that the now deceased odious woman believed to exist. Hestia flopped into the chair opposite Amelia's desk. "What a day," the blonde observed.

Amelia's reply was to open the drawer on her desk, withdrawing a bottle of single malt whisky.

Hestia nodded her approval as she conjured two tumblers.

"Any luck with the Veritaserum?" she asked after gunning down the first shot.

Frustrated, Amelia downed her whisky before pouring a second round for them both. "Nothing." Tossing the list of persons questioned on her desk, she grumbled, "That's everyone."

Hestia glanced at the list. "No it's not. You questioned me, I questioned you and we questioned James together. None of us are on that list."

Frowning, Amelia looked at the list again. With a new perspective, she reviewed the names, adding the others into the place. Then it occurred to her.

"Oh, no."

The feeling of dread washed over her. Now that she saw, the answer was obvious. As all good riddles are she mused to herself. The motivation was even obvious. With deliberation, she wrote a name at the top of the sheet, followed by a question mark.

Steeling herself, Amelia handed the sheet to Hestia with the traitor's name at the top.

"Oh, no," Hestia breathed.

The two witches regarded each other for a long moment before picking up their whisky. Both took a long pull on the amber liquid before Amelia incinerated the list.

"Tomorrow. We'll deal with this tomorrow."

A/N

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

2. In 1998, Spain raised the age of consent from 12 to 13. Check it out (http:// www. ageofconsent. com/ spain.htm)

3. Sorry it took so long to get this chapter out. Summer is here in the northern hemisphere and with it a ton of `dad' duties.

Chapter complete 7/5/12

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