Unofficial Portkey Archive

Chapter 24

"Your Majesty, I have unpleasant news."

Amelia heard her Sovereign sigh as the older woman settled herself while the Acting Minister for Magic stood in respectful attention. No matter how many times she visited Elizabeth (and it was quite often), Amelia was never very comfortable in her Presence. James treated her like his long lost Aunt, and for some reason the Queen responded to that. Perhaps she responded to James, rather than his mode of address. Always respectful, there was a hint of familiarity in his carriage and demeanour which seemed to be beyond Amelia's ability to muster. This was the Queen after all.

After a pause, Amelia clasped her hands in front of her as she got to the point. "We've had an agent for the enemy in our midst." Backtracking, she corrected, "Actually, he was a suborned public servant. The enemy captured his son and threatened to kill the lad should the agent fail to provide them information."

"And he believed this?" the Queen asked, incredulous. "I feel for the man, but his son is most likely dead for many months now."

Amelia nodded her agreement. "Yes, ma'am, he did believe them. His complete debrief isn't complete yet, but It appears that even in his traitorous activities he didn't divulge much of importance."

Elizabeth's eyes narrowed, "Except?"

Internally, Amelia flinched. She'd tried to maintain a neutral exterior, but apparently, the woman across from her was more than adept at reading expressions and body language. "True. He did divulge the details of Sir Harry, Dame Hermione and Lord Blackmoor's rescue of Dame Hermione's relations."

Elizabeth sat back in her chair, her eyes taking a vacant cast. "If you tell his Grace, he'll kill this man." Her eyes sharpening, she looked to Amelia, "Who is this person that we keep talking around?"

"Arthur Weasley, ma'am."

Now there was a fierceness in her countenance that made Amelia decide right there and then that Arthur would never again be in the Queen's presence. She feared for the man's life.

"And what is being done with this person?" The cold venom in Her voice was nearly dripping from the walls.

"He is under a magical vow to never betray yourself, the true government of Britain and me personally." Amelia was doing her best to be unemotional about the situation, but she was still torn. Anger raged in her, demanding vengeance. Betrayal by a friend sourced a great grief that swamped her from time to time. Fear that Arthur was one of many betrayers paralyzed her in the dark of the night. Compassion for his situation dulled the edges of her indignation and intolerance. All told, she was still in the middle of the whirlwind. Doing her best to get on with it all, she shoved her emotions to the side, trying her best to `get the job done'.

"This is the vow similar to that which Nymphadora and Kingsley took with his Grace?"

From the corner of her eye, Amelia saw the metamorph bodyguard flinch at the Queen's use of her given name. "Yes, ma'am. An Unbreakable Vow."

The slow nod lessened the ferocity in the Queen's expression. Finally, she asked, "And his punishment?"

"For now, he will be our disinformation conduit into the enemy's councils. When we've retaken our country, he shall be tried for treason against the Crown." Her eyes flashed as Amelia let her indignation and betrayal surface, "Regardless of his reasons, the man is a traitor."

Again, the slow nod from the Queen proceeded her pronouncement, "That is true. However, given the extreme nature of the enemy's leverage over him, We would not wish for Our government to seek execution as final punishment."

Nodding at the mercy of the Sovereign, Amelia replied, "As you wish, your Majesty."

There was a long moment of silence as both women regained their composure. Amelia continued, "Currently, I'm working on a loyalty oath that all members of the government will be required to swear should they desire to continue in their position."

Elizabeth nodded curtly. "This will be in place by when?"

"By the end of the week, your Majesty."

Standing, Elizabeth moved to the window. Looking out, she told Amelia, "I remember when Burgess and Blunt were first exposed as traitors and everyone pointed the finger at Philby." Shaking her head in sarcastic amusement, she continued, "And he was the worst of the lot. He was even exonerated by the Home Secretary and my father, who was the best of men," her face twisted with emotion, "Made him an Officer of the Order of the British Empire before all become known and he ran for the Soviet Union." Shaking her head, she spat, "I despise traitors."

The Queen's countenance softened for a short moment, "Yet, it is his son." Shaking her head at the utter waste of a good man, Elizabeth let her emotion fall to the wayside. Her eyes were alit with sternness as the Queen turned back to her Minister, "Keep Weasley on a short leash, Amelia. Burn him to the ground if he steps out of line one inch."

.oOo.

Hermione was gathering the surveying tools they expected to use on their search this day. After sleeping in from their expedition to Diagon Alley, the group took a day off to rest and relax. Today, though, they were back on the hunt for the elusive Dormred Ap Morag.

Susan came into the back room. Leaning on the table Hermione worked from, the redhead levelled a stare at the brunette. "Yes?" Hermione asked in an amused tone.

"The next time you go hunting Death Eaters, I'm coming."

The serious, no-nonsense tone from her friend took Hermione aback. Frowning, The Smartest Witch of the Age replied, "Ok. Sure."

Susan's intense look didn't abate, but she nodded in satisfaction. Shoving off the table, she moved to leave. Hermione's hand on her arm stopped her. "What's this all about Sue?"

The hard look returned. "You know how my parents died?"

Hermione nodded. She remembered the story about the missing Death Eater. Her Dad had told her Aunt Amelia that a `dozen Death Eaters' were attacking. The responding Aurors found eleven Death Eater corpses among the dead Bones family. Susan had almost wistfully wished to mount the head of the missing Death Eater on her wall.

"You want your turn to get a pound of flesh," Hermione declared when the redheaded witch's glare ratcheted up a notch. Shaking her head, she ploughed on, "It's not a game, Sue. Harry and I've been training nonstop for over a year. We've been working to the highest level for a long time. We took down Bellatrix relatively easily, but that's because we're good."

She met her friend's cold blue-eyed gaze. "Are you good enough to go toe to toe with Bellatrix Lestrange without getting hurt? I doubt it."

"They're not all Lestrange," Susan countered.

Shrugging, Hermione admitted the truth of the statement. "But they can be. What if Voldemort is there next time?" Pushing close to her friend, she got nose to nose. "Are you willing to die for your revenge?"

"Why not?" Susan spat. "They killed my family."

"And what about Neville?" Hermione countered in a deceptively light tone as she returned to her sorting and packing.

Wary, Susan asked, "What about him?"

Shoving a small map and bunch of pencils into the bag, Hermione expounded, "Are you willing to destroy him when you die for your vengeance?" Turning to her contemplative friend, Hermione added, "He's in love with you. Will you throw that away?"

"You don't understand," Susan growled as she turned away.

"Where is your loyalty, Susan Bones?" Hermione challenged as the redhead stomped away.

The Hufflepuff turned back, her eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"

Hermione shrugged. "Is your loyalty to the living or to the dead?"

"I don't have to choose," she shot back. Hands on hips, she challenged, "You and Harry threw yourselves into battle in the middle of Diagon Alley of all places and you have the temerity to question my motives?"

Hermione levelled her friend with a glare that caused the redhead to shiver. "There is a big difference between a warrior going into battle and a desperate person seeking vengeance. The warrior takes reasonable risks, keeps their head and extricates themselves when the battle is over for good or for ill. The desperate person seeking vengeance will redouble their efforts when the battle is lost. They'll take wholly unreasonable risks to get that which they desire most - their enemy's head on a pike." Hermione paused, regarding her friend with a mix of compassion, sympathy and evaluation. "Which are you?"

Scowling, Susan turned away from the accusation to storm out of the tent.

.oOo.

Remus had his head bent over the map. "Alright, Hermione's first detection was here," he jabbed his finger at the small number `1' circled on the map. Harry had a subsequent detection of similar strength here," he tapped a small number `2'. "Hermione's got another strong one here," he murmured as he delicately wrote a small number `3' on the map.

Standing, he tapped his chin with his pencil. There was a rough shape beginning to form in the detections. Keying his radio, he called, "Harry, this is Remus. Proceed north by northwest so that Snowdon bears due north and Bleanau Ffestiniog is just south of east. You should get a strong detection on the anti-Apparition ward."

There was a pause before Harry replied, "Moving now. Be there in about fifteen minutes." The roar of his motorcycle engine was heard over the radio. Sighing, Remus looked up when another motorcycle roared out of the woods toward him. Reaching into his coat for the pistol, Remus relaxed when he recognized Hermione on the other bike.

She pulled up to Moony, killing the engine and leaning the Yamaha on its kickstand. "This should do it," she commented while pulling the helmet off her head.

Remus nodded. "If Harry gets the detection that I think he will, they're right there." Pointing to a spot nearly in the centre of the northern half of the forest, he added, "Then the nasty part begins."

She nodded, pensive. Remus watched her closely. Since she and Harry had returned from their raid on Diagon Alley, the teens had been more than a bit indifferent to the killing they'd done in `service to the Crown'. They'd blithely portkeyed the rubber ball/Bellatrix Lestrange to Spain for Amelia Bones to interrogate. When questioned about the likely collateral damage to their massive detonation in the Alley, Harry had nodded before murmuring about the `cost of war'. Hermione hadn't commented at all.

To be fair, though, Remus wasn't bothered too much either. The war and killing were changing them all and not for the better. Late at night, when Alex was asleep at his side, Remus pondered whether it was all worth it in the end.

He never got an answer.

"Moony, this is Padfoot," his radio crackled.

Shoving his deeper thoughts to the side, he reached for his radio. Hermione beat him. "This is Hermione, go ahead Padfoot. Moony is listening."

"Hey, Padlet," Sirius jibed. He'd begun calling Hermione `Padlet' like Prongs called Harry `Pronglet'. She'd objected half-heartedly, but Remus could tell she liked the nickname. "Tell Moony that the ward tiles are ready to go when he's ready."

Remus nodded. Sirius was adapting an old Black family spell used in ward breaking. The family grimoire detailed a plan which would catastrophically collapse a ward schema. Sirius was hoping to open a hole in the wards so as to avoid flushing their prey. Once Moony, Pronglet and Padlet got inside Dormred's wards, Sirius was hoping to raise his own wards to keep the prey inside the trap.

There were a lot of `hope to's' in the plan. Far too many for Remus' liking but it was the best plan they had. All wanted to move on from Dormred ap Morag to their real opponent. However, Lily had said it best, "At one point in his life, Tom Riddle was the same as this Dormred bastard. Do we want to let another Voldemort flower and blossom?" They needed to finish this chapter in the family's history; hopefully in an attempt to prevent a later catastrophe.

Remus sighed. Unpleasant didn't begin to address how he felt about this task. Logically, he knew that Dormred and his descendants needed to be stopped. This cycle of destruction needed to be stopped now, but at the same time, he felt as if he were hunting a human and found it…unpleasant.

"Remus, this is Harry. Jackpot."

Nodding to himself, Remus wrote a small `4' on the map as he keyed the radio. "This is Remus, roger, out." Even if he didn't like it, Remus had a job to do.

.oOo.

William was digging through the charter of the United Nations and comparing it to that of the International Confederation of Wizards. While the bulk of the charter was the same, there were some staggering differences; mainly in their omissions. Sometimes, silence is truly deafening.

The Universal Declaration of Human Rights of the United Nations prohibits slavery in all its forms. The ICW Charter is suspiciously mute on the topic.

Where the Universal Declaration of Human Rights declares that `All are equal before the law…' the ICW Charter declares that `All Wizardkind are equal before the law…' and so on. What about Centaurs…Merfolk…Goblins? Are they unequal before the law? the Prince mused.

In other cases, the two documents were identical, but William knew that the former magical government of Britain ignored the clauses. `No one shall be subject to arbitrary arrest or exile', followed by `Everyone is entitled in full equality to a fair and public hearing by an independent and impartial tribunal' didn't seem to be implemented very well by the former leadership.

His moral outrage and indignation grew the longer he read. Growing up, his parents had been far from a model of parenthood, but they'd both instilled a strong sense of duty to the country and a duty to that which was right. William knew from his earliest days that one day he'd be King. Everything he'd subsequently done was coloured by that prism. His studies, sport, girls and now politics were seen through the idea that one day he'd wear the Crown and have an immeasurably heavy weight on his shoulders and a duty to all Britons.

The idea that the ICW seemed to be institutionally ignoring or passively persecuting whole blocks of magical persons incensed him.

As leaders we have a duty to do right by all those who trust us to govern wisely.

There was a divide in the magical world between the `haves' and the `have nots'. Wealth was a discriminator, but not the largest. The poorest wizard was far better off than the richest goblin.

Because he was free.

Surely, there must be a way that we can entice the subjugated magical races to help us? He sighed to himself, But how are we to insure their equal treatment in the law? The Wizengamot is horribly corrupt and prejudiced. The ICW turns a blind eye…

Not for the last time did William, Prince of Wales and the future King William V, sigh in frustrated exasperation at the stupidity and cupidity of legislative bodies.

.oOo.

Slowly easing the four square inches of dragon bone into place, Sirius was as focused as he ever had been in his life. Usually, he had enough attention to split between his immediate task and more rambunctious thoughts. Usually, the `other thoughts' involved sex, alcohol, sex, pranks, sex or possibly…sex.

Right now, though, his entire attention was devoted to the placement of this rune engraved, seven ounce slab of dragon bone. Carved from the skull of a mature female Australian Opaleye, it was the energy sump of the set. The others (a plate carved from the femur of a hatchling Peruvian Vipertooth, a plate from the femur of a mature male Irish Razortail and a plate from the lower jawbone of a female adolescent Norwegian Ridgeback) were arrayed in a rough diamond shape. Together, Sirius reasoned, they would act as a shunt, diverting the magical energy around their shape, but not interrupting the flow.

This, in turn, would allow a small rupture in the wards, permitting the small strike team to cross the ward line, unmolested. At least, that's what he reasoned. Hermione had called it a `hack' of the wards. She'd tried to explain something about muggle computers, but it was all nonsense to Sirius. He did like the word `hack', though. None of that was passing through his mind at this time. The fact that these three people were some of the most important people in the world to him was the reason for Sirius' unprecedented focus.

"Looks right…," he murmured. Double checking that the temporary magic masking ward was erected about him, he cast a series of spells that surveyed the layout and alignment of the ward plates.

"This one's off…," he muttered. Shoving a bit of dirt underneath the Vipertooth plate, he raised it roughly an eighth of an inch. Again, he repeated the survey. All readings were not only in tolerance, but were nearly perfect. Sweating heavily, he turned to Harry. "It's ready."

Harry nodded jerkily. He glanced to his left. Moony was stone-faced, but nodded his affirmation. Hermione, on Harry's right did the same.

Padfoot wondered if it was just him, or did the threesome look a bit pale.

Shaking off his musings, he moved to the side. No matter his desire to accompany his family on this mission, Sirius knew that his psyche was still tender. He'd confided in Healer Plummer the intentions of the family, and while the German mind healer didn't condone their activities, he understood them. At the same time, he'd warned Sirius about his taking part in search and destroy missions - emphasis on the `destroy' part.

As a result, Padfoot stood there ready to watch his best friend, godson and daughter go slaughter their quarry.

"Godspeed," he whispered.

Harry nodded before taking off at a loping run through the hack. Hermione was on his heels, Moony taking up rear guard. All three had their wand in hand and their pistol in the other.

Taking a deep breath, Sirius slowly let it out hoping that the tension and self-recrimination would go with the used air. It didn't. Holding his radio to his mouth, he keyed the button. "Susie this is Padfoot. Are your stones in place?"

"Affirmative," the redhead replied.

Nodding, he keyed the microphone again, "Right. Erecting the friendly Anti-Apparition ward now." Placing the radio on the ground, he began to wave his wand in a complex motion. His part was a support role and he'd be damned if he let the others down.

.oOo.

James glanced up from the report he was reading. Lily's pacing was becoming worrisome. She was due in three days, so he'd taken the week off in order to be home when the baby came. When she'd been delivered of Harry, it seemed that her body took over; she became an instinctual being. Her body drove her to act in certain ways and James was fairly certain that she'd not been too cognizant of her activities. After the fact, both of them were far too focused on the wrinkly squalling little wizard to revisit those last twenty four to thirty six hours.

She'd eaten a few hours ago before receiving a foot rub from the ever present Winky shortly thereafter. When she grunted at him while she glared and announced , "Gotta fucking pee, again," it'd been very amusing for Prongs.

Now she was pacing like the proverbial lioness in her cage at the zoo. James' eyes narrowed when she unconsciously began to massage her lower back. She'd done that too, right as labour started for Harry. Reaching into the desk drawer, he withdrew the communication mirror. He had a feeling they'd need Alex soon.

No sooner had he placed the enchanted glass on the desk blotter, Lily stopped her pacing to groan and clutch her belly. "Fuck."

Looking to her husband with a resigned yet excited expression, Lily told him, "It's time."

Swallowing his own excitement mingled with panic, James muttered to the mirror, "Alexandra Price."

After a short moment, the blonde Healer's face appeared in his hand. "Is it time?" she asked without preamble.

"Yes," James confirmed. When he saw Alex's hesitation, he pressed, "What's wrong?"

She dithered for a moment before shaking her head. "Nothing. They think they found Dormred and are running the insertion op right now."

Lily's lusty groan diverted James' attention. Her wide eyes showed her surprise. "This one's coming faster James," she told him.

"Alex…," he began only to be cut off.

"I'll use one of the portkeys and be there in a mo'. I'll check over Lily and shuttle back here in case they need me."

"Thanks," he replied. "See you in a few."

.oOo.

The trees were fairly thick in this area of the park. Most of Snowdonia National park is barrenly beautiful; the natural shape of the mountains glorious in their simplicity. In retrospect, it seemed obvious to Harry that Dormred and his family would establish their home in the centre of a densely wooded area.

Continuing his loping run, he wound along an animal track heading in the direction that Remus and Hermione had calculated to be the most likely area for a homestead. Privately, Harry believed instead of a home, there would be a compound of sorts. The family - whatever their name was - lived on hatred, bitterness and a desire for vengeance against all things `Potter'. They'd seclude themselves together as they collectively festered.

His senses focused on all around him, Harry dashed down a hill.

.oOo.

"Alright Lily, you're doing great. Already at four centimetres. Won't be long now."

Alex frowned. There was no way that she could leave Lily now. As fast as the labour was progressing, by the time she portkeyed back to Wales, she'd have to turn right back around. Digging through her satchel, she found her communication mirror. "Sirius Black," she called.

When his dark visage resolved in the glass, she cut to the chase. "Lily is having this baby in the next hour or two. I can't make it back to the tent. If you need me, you'll have to call for me on this mirror."

Sirius nodded grimly, "Hopefully, we'll not need you."

Swamped with a rogue wave of fear for her Remus, she asked, "Have you heard anything?"

Sirius shook he head while pressing his lips together.

"Damn," Alex whispered. No news is good news, right? Shaking off the fear, she nodded, "Right. Call if you need me."

Lily's whimpering grunt recalled Alex to her duty. "Gotta go," she announced as she wiped the mirror.

.oOo.

Hermione was on Harry's heels as they pounded through the forest. A few yards behind her, she heard Remus in a trail position. Rounding through her thoughts was the idea that they were on their way to slaughter a family. What she said to Harry a few months before kept rising up in counterpoint, "It's for our children. Do we want this man's children or grandchildren attacking ours?"

Shoving aside her internal debate, she focused on the task at hand. Everything had been discussed, examining all angles. In the end, all had agreed that - though distasteful and morally repugnant - Dormred ap Morag and his followers & family needed to be killed.

Reaching a clearing, the threesome stopped to get their bearings. Taking a deep breath, Hermione holstered her pistol before pulling the laminated map from her hip pocket. With her breath condensing in the crisp early winter air, she held the map out for both Harry and Remus to look at it.

"We appear to be right about here," she pointed at the map.

Harry made a noise of agreement before muttering, "So we need to bed a bit more to the north…," he was cut off by an cataclysmic crash from the north, not more than two hundred yards away through the trees.

The three raiders dropped to the ground, Hermione rolling into the foetal position with her arms over her head in a classic defensive posture. Leaves, dirt and other detritus pattered over them as the shattering echoes reverberated through the forest.

.oOo.

His eyes wide, Sirius looked toward the noise. "What the hell was that?"

At his side, Neville mutely stared, hoping that his friends were well.

.oOo.

James was always stunned at Lily's tolerance for pain. Obviously, he had no first-hand idea of how painful labour and delivery of a child could be, but every woman who'd done so had been emphatic that it bloody hurt.

Lily's intermittent soft moans and soft gasps were her only indication of her discomfort and distress.

"Eight centimetres, Lily. I think you're going for the world record here."

Alex was casting spells with a slight frown causing James began to frown in his turn. Patience wasn't the strong suit of James Potter, but he did his best to wait for Alex to finish what she was doing before grilling her.

Finally, Alex nodded resignedly. Glancing first at James, she addressed the now panting Lily. "The baby hasn't turned yet, so I'm going to cast a spell that ought to turn the child."

Lily nodded, "The Breach Birth spell."

Alex gave the labouring woman a reassuring smile. "Yes, that's right. If that doesn't set everything right, there are three other that I can cast. If none of those are successful, we'll have to move to a Caesarean birth."

Lily nodded. "Do whatever's necessary for the baby."

Trying to keep his expression mild, James repeatedly swallowed the burgeoning fear and panic that rose in his gorge.

.oOo.

Slowly, Hermione rose to her feet. Staying in a half crouch, she ignored the dirt and debris in her hair. The patter of dirt falling through the trees was tapering away along with the fading echoes of the explosion. The cocking of a pistol cause her to glance to her left. Remus had his Colt up and aimed in the direction of the dust cloud that was billowing from the trees.

"Someone's coming," he murmured. Occasionally, Remus' lycanthropy was awfully handy. Other times it was an otherworldly curse.

Harry side stepped to the right, flanking the point of the lycanthrope's aim. Sliding behind Remus, Hermione took a flanking position opposite her betrothed. Half her mind was trying to understand what happened. Was it a potion accident? An intentional bombing by another enemy of the elusive Dormred ap Morag?

Shaking her head to clear a bit of the dirt from her hair, she heard a stumbling, shambling footstep approach. Dropping into a crouch, she raised her pistol while holstering her wand.

They'd no idea if they could use magic here while remaining undetected. On the whole, a non-magic user is at a significant disadvantage to a magic user when in a fight. Remus had put voice to the hope that they could use their numbers and surprise to their advantage, negating any advantage their opponent had.

A coughing form stumbled into the clearing, falling to his knees as he cleared the treeline. From the back, the man looked to be the same person who claimed to be Dormred outside the Potter coal mine that lay in the Cambrian Mountains east of Llangollen.

Moving quickly, Harry approached him. His Colt held in both hands, he pressed the barrel of the pistol into the neck of the coughing man. It was evident to Hermione that Dormred recognized the situation as he froze.

"Lay on the ground, your hands behind your head," Harry ordered briskly.

As Dormred sluggishly complied, he snarled, "Once again a Potter destroys us all. Are you here to kill me?"

There was a long silence before Harry replied, "Yes, I am."

From the ground, Dormred sneered, "Of course you are."

Interjecting, Remus asked, "Who else is part of your group? Where are they?"

Half looking up from the ground, Dormred spat, "They're my family and why should I tell you anything?"

Harry knelt on the man's spine before he fired the pistol right next to Dormred's ear. The spattering dirt covered the side of the man's head. "Because I'll kill you very painfully over a very long time if you don't."

Deflating, the man pounded his head into the dirt twice. With a scream of defiant rage, he tried to buck Harry off his back. It was an unwise choice.

The crack reverberated about the clearing before Hermione realized that the smoke was rising from the barrel of her pistol because she'd shot the man. His scream of pain confirmed that she'd fired a bullet into the man's leg.

Harry resettled himself on top of the now wounded man. "I repeat the question. Where is the rest of your family?"

"They're all in the house! Or at least they were!" Dormred raged. "Now you can kill us all! That's what you want, isn't it?"

Aside from Dormred's emotional panting, there was silence in the clearing. Finally, Harry replied in a voice so soft that Hermione barely heard him, "No. That's the last thing I want, but I'm afraid that's what has to happen."

"Then kill us all! That's all the Potters have ever wanted," he snarled.

Unable to control herself, Hermione retorted, "We didn't know you existed until five month ago. If you'd left us alone, we'd have let you live in peace."

"You lie; you took everything. In every generation, a Potter has taken from the descendants of Dormred ap Morag. All we have is the fight. The struggle against the oppression from you and yours."

Mystified, Hermione looked first to Remus then Harry for an answer. Unfortunately, there was none forthcoming.

"What about your family?" Harry asked.

"They serve the cause. We are all of one mind."

Remus was shaking his head as if an idea had him baffled. Finally, he asked, "Why didn't you seek justice? The courts or the Ministry?"

"And the courts would go against the great Earl of Richmond?" Dormred sneered. "We finally figured out that the Potters were magical so we took what we needed to get our justice. The Ministry wouldn't help us."

Hermione felt queasy about how they `took what they needed'. Today had been shitty enough; she didn't feel the need to pursue that line of thought.

"No Hogwarts?" Remus asked.

"After all the Potters have taken from us?" The sneer was back in full force.

Harry spoke up, "Remus, one quick spell to tell us if there are any other survivors."

Hermione frowned. It was a risk to cast a spell. It wouldn't necessarily guarantee that the forces of the Dark Lord would swarm to them, but it was still a risk of detection. Why Harry would take on this risk, she didn't know.

To her right, Remus muttered, "Hominem Revealo."

There were no answering flashes. The entire family was dead. A part of her thought that it was poetic justice that they'd destroyed themselves in their now obvious obsessive pursuit of vengeance. The rest of her was sad at the waste of it all. Not only had generations thrown away their lives in devotion to hatred, but for the most part, their hated enemies hadn't even known of their existence. It was both the greatest insult and tragedy of the entire affair.

Dormred wasn't even upset that his family was all dead. They were merely tools of his vengeance.

Harry stood. Backing from the wounded man, he asked, "Would you swear an Unbreakable Vow to forgo this feud, to never take action against my family nor try to co-opt another to be your proxy? It is the only way you'll survive the next hour."

Pride in her man warmed Hermione's chest. He was offering Dormred his life. After everything the man had done to Harry, The Boy-Who-Lived was offering mercy and clemency to this twisted and bitter man.

Rolling over to face the scion of his nemesis, Dormred regarded him for a long moment. Half nodding to himself, Dormred spat in Harry's face.

"Never."

Quick as a snake, Dormred reached into his robes. Drawing a knife, he plunged it into his own chest.

.oOo.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck."

"You're doing great Lily. You're at nine centimetres. Not long now before you start pushing."

James watched as Alex cast yet another spell trying to force the baby to turn. Scowling, she looked to him while shaking her head in negation. Her stare was meaningful.

Glancing at his red-faced and panting wife, James nodded to Alex. She turned back to Lily. "Lily, the baby hasn't turned yet. We need to proceed with the caesarean."

"Do it," the prospective second time mother grunted.

Once again, panic rose in James' gorge. Reflexively swallowing, he turned to Alex, "Do you need anything? What can I do to help?" He knew that Hestia and William were waiting outside the door, but doubted they'd be of help. For that matter, he didn't think that he'd be of much help.

Alex cast a charm on him that the healers jokingly called, `Insta-Scrubs' leaving him clean and in sterile robes. "Conjure a small table along with moderate Heating charm covering the surface and place it right there," she indicated with her hand. "I'll need to take care of Lily, so you get baby Potter."

Without comment, James easily conjured the table. Thinking a moment, he called, "Winky."

The elf popped into the room, her face a mask of worry. "Yes, your Grace? Is her Grace well?"

"It will all be done soon, Winky. I need some of the warm blankets that we've in the nursery." Focusing on this task allowed him to function. When his whole attention was on his wife, James was near paralyzed.

Turning back, he saw that Lily was now laying out flat on the table as Alex finished a spell over his wife's head. She saw him watching, so she told him, "Anaesthetic. She'll feel nothing."

Pointing to the side of Lily's head, the blonde healer directed, "You stand here. Encourage her, but do not get in my way. I'll tell you when to come to my side so you can take the baby. Don't worry about clearing the windpipe or anything. I'll take care of that. You just cast a mild cleansing charm before swaddling the babe."

Nodding, he moved to his wife's side. Catching her gaze, he told her, "You're doing great, love."

.oOo.

"Shit."

Neville turned to Sirius. In the distance, he could hear Susan's motorbike approaching. After the huge explosion, there'd been a very anti-climactic…nothing. So they waited. Sirius repeatedly cast monitoring charms on the `Hack' but other than that, it'd been a very quiet half hour.

Now, though, things seemed to have changed. "What?" he asked the now furiously casting wizard.

"Something's gone wrong. The wards are overloading and the hack is trying to absorb all the excess power. It'll overload in five minutes at this rate."

"Oh." Neville couldn't think of anything else to say. An idea occurred to him. Snatching the radio from his belt, he keyed the microphone. "Harry, this is Neville. You need to get out of there right now, Sirius says the wards are overloading."

There was a long silence before Harry replied, "Moving now. We should be out in a few minutes."

"Four minutes, twenty seconds," Sirius grunted as he cast another power draining spell at the now glowing ward plates.

"Four minutes, twenty seconds before it all blows sky high," Neville urged over the radio.

The now panting Harry replied, "Got it. Sprinting now."

Neville turned to see his girlfriend parking her motorbike, both of them wearing expressions of concern.

.oOo.

The blanket over his shoulder, James stood next to his wife. "Ready, love."

She'd told him that now that the anaesthesia was working, she felt better than she had in months. The wry grin hadn't been unnoticed.

With a nod to Lily, Alex went to work. Four spells had Lily clean and her bulging belly exposed.

"Now's the tricky part," he barely heard the blonde mumble. She placed her gloved hand on Lily's belly, feeling the contractions. Just as the contraction eased, she cast another set of spells. Finishing up, she turned to Lily. "I've just stopped your labour. Makes it easier to proceed." With a last evaluative look, Alex asked, "You ready?"

"Let's get this baby out where it belongs," Lily told her friend.

James was shocked at how easy it was. Just one spell opened her up like a gutted fish. With a deft motion of her non-wand hand, Alex scooped the boy - his son - out of his mother. Three more spells severed the umbilical cord, disgorged a glob of goop from his mouth and circumcised the boy. Handing him to James, Alex turned back to Lily.

The red faced, wrinkly little boy squirmed uncomfortably. Eyes wide with awe, James cast a minor cleansing charm on his son. Turning to the table, he saw that Winky stood by to first put a nappy on the boy before wrapping him in a warm cotton blanket.

There was a soft expression on the elf's face as she handed the baby back to his father echoing his own feeling. Cuddling his son to his chest, he moved to Lily's side. Alex had already put her back to rights and was plying her with potions. After Alex shifted out of the way, he moved to his wife's side. Just as he'd done with Harry, he held out his son to his wife.

"Your son, madam," he announced as tears stood in his eyes.

"Robbie," she murmured while holding him to her chest. Lily wasn't in a very good position to hold little Robert Justin for very long, so James took him back from her. Alex finished the post-partum treatment before gently levitating Lily to the master bed. When the redhead was propped up on a host of pillows and dead asleep, Alex began rummaging through her bag. Placing a series of red vials on the side table, she told Winky, "These will assist her Grace's healing. One in the morning with breakfast, one in the evening with dinner." The elf's head bobbed curtly, her expression serious and attentive.

"This," she held up a blue vial before placing it with the red ones, "is a final Blood Replenishing potion. She's to take this once she wakens. These," she held up four green vials, "will stave off infection. One every morning with breakfast." Another curt nod. "These," she held up a small box with clear vials, "are for pain. She's to take these whenever she needs relief, but not more than one every four hours."

"Yes, Healer Price," Winky replied as she moved to the nightstand to arrange the potions.

Annoyed, James snarked, "I'm right here, Alex."

She lifted her sculpted eyebrow, "I know. I think that Winky is more responsible than you are." The little elf smothered a smile while blushing to the roots of her hair.

Rolling his eyes, James tried to come back but Alex interrupted him. "I've got to get back. She should be fine, the procedure was straightforward with no complications, but if anything arises, give a shout over the mirror. I'll come back tomorrow morning to check her over."

"Right. Our best to everyone," James encouraged.

Alex nodded before tapping the rock in her hand as she muttered, "Red Dragon Rising."

Turning back to his wife, he laid the sleeping baby in his bassinet next to the bed. Winky brought him a chair, "Your Grace needs to rest also. It's been a very busy day. Winky will talk to Rauri about a small snack."

James nodded, but the emotion of the day caught up to him. Eyes drooping, he plopped his feet on the bed, "Maybe later, Winky. Thanks…."

He barely heard the door open and Hestia call out, "James? Lily?" before Morpheus claimed him.

.oOo.

Remus was running flat out. Holding up his arms in front of him every so often to bat away branches, he'd never run so fast for so long. Launching himself over a small brook, he recognized the boulder off to the side. They were close to the ward line.

Overhead, the sky crackled and sizzled as the wards moved to a catastrophic failure. Flashes of red, blue and green illuminated the dome of the wards. It was an old fashioned ward design, but it worked. Given what they knew about the former Dormred ap Morag's magical education, the self-taught method from spell books would naturally result in such a ward schema. It would also result in a schema that wasn't very stable when tampered with. Nor would it be very stable when the ward stones were damaged as the house blew up. Nor would it be very stable when the master of the wards committed suicide.

Taken all together, they were fortunate that things were holding together for this long.

The ground trembled as a huge discharge of magic ripped across the sky like a thunderbolt. Remus was sent sprawling into a bush as he lost his balance. There was a tug on the back of his shirt, dragging him upright. Harry's breath was loud in his ear as they began to run again.

Hermione led the group now. He'd never seen the witch run so fast in her life. At first they'd tried to Apparate to the ward break, but the magic in the area was so chaotic that it was impossible to Apparate.

From behind them, a huge detonation sounded, followed by a muted roar. Eyes widening, he recognized the situation for what it was. Dormred's wards had been tied to the inherent magic in the Earth but because they were so fragile, when the schema began to fail, the Earth's magic was trying to escape. It was just like a volcano with the same destructive power.

"Go!" he shouted. All three of them scrambled down the hill before sprinting to the exit. Sirius, Neville and Susan were in sight, waving at them to hurry.

The roar from behind was growing as the magical pulse crested and broke over the landscape. Trees snapped, boulders were flung in the air while the death screams of the animals that were unable to escape littered the soundscape.

Hermione dove through the ward line, landing at Neville's feet. Absently, Remus noted that Sirius began to cast a spell. Shoving Harry after his betrothed, Remus dove the last few yards, rolling to a stop at Sirius' feet as the explosion buried them.

.oOo.

Amelia gritted her teeth as she read through the quick look report of Bellatrix Lestrange's initial interrogation. Given the madness of the dark witch, the consensus had been to by bypass direct questioning, progressing straight to Veritaserum. It limited the time that the witch could be questioned, but it ensured truthful answers without prevarication. Unfortunately, she could only be under the influence of the potent truth serum for a half hour a day, lest the potion burn away her mind. Well, burn it away more than had already happened.

Taking a leaf from Harry Potter, they kept the witch transfigured when not actively being questioned. She was already mad as a hatter; sensory deprivation couldn't do much more to her than had already been done by a dozen plus years with the Dementors.

Reading through the report, it appeared that they'd struck the mother load. Schedules, rosters and residences were listed. The report also included the habits and tendencies of the Dark Lord along with a detailed listing of dozens of Death Eaters alongside their status in Voldemort's circles. For all her madness, Bellatrix was an extremely intelligent witch. It was unfortunate that a woman with such capability had wasted her life.

It wasn't the waste of a life that had Amelia gritting her teeth, though. Across her desk, Arthur Weasley sat, blank faced and waiting her comments on the report. After he'd taken his Unbreakable Vow, he'd written a detailed report of all his communications with the enemy. When he'd delivered it, Amelia had wanted him to swear an oath that it was complete and truthful. She'd swallowed the desire after realizing his Vow insured the report's veracity. At that point, she'd had to admit that her opinion of and relationship with Arthur Weasley was damaged - probably irrevocably.

No matter how much she'd liked him, the man had turned traitor; his reasoning be damned. Being in the same room with him made her want to lash out. Amelia had lost much to the Dark Lord Voldemort: her darling brother and his wife, more comrades than she could count. She wanted to scream at the man, but had work to do, instead.

Ignoring the man, she focused on the report. After a minute, she directed, "I want a plan for how we're going to keep this information fresh, including a list of persons that we'll need to interrogate and on what days. I also want an analysis of this information," she hefted the scroll in her hands," that will show us potential weaknesses or any other exploitable data."

He nodded, "The second is already underway. I'll get right on the first."

She glared at the man, but reined in her resentment. "That will be all."

He nodded again, a sad expression on his face. Gathering up the briefing materials, he paused. "I've not said it, but felt that I needed to tell you that I'm very sorry about this entire situation, Amelia."

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. Unable to speak rationally, Amelia merely nodded. Her eyes didn't open again until the door latch clicked behind the retreating redheaded father of seven.

.oOo.

Coughing, Harry waved his hand in front of his face before he realised that he couldn't see his hand. A wandless incantation creating an orb of soft blue light illuminating an oblong cavity surrounded by dirt and other hard packed debris. At his side, Hermione stirred. The others rubbed their head or dug dirt out of their ears. Susan was furiously opening and closing her jaw, trying to equalize the pressure in her ears.

"Anyone hurt?" Remus rasped.

A muttering of, "No," echoed about the `room'. When everyone stretched and stood, Hermione offered, "I think we should Apparate back to the tents. There's been so much magic here in the last hour, I'm more than willing to believe that anything we do now will be lost in the noise."

One by one, they disappeared, reappearing outside the medical tent.

Hearing the series of cracks and pops, Alex rushed out, her wand in hand and casting diagnostic charms as she moved.

Seeing his godfather bent over and panting, Harry indicated to Sirius, "Him first."

Searching about, he made eye contact first with Neville. Seeing him nod, he got the same from Susan. He and Remus held each other's gaze for a long time until Moony told Harry, "You did right."

Nodding sadly, he met her gaze. Hermione didn't say anything; she didn't need to. Her expression compassionately sad, she held out her arms. Melting into them, Harry felt all the worry, shame, self-loathing and regret melt out of him. He'd hated having to track down Dormred in order to kill him and his followers. It felt cowardly, but when Dormred had plunged the knife into his own chest, after the surprise wore off, Harry had felt relief. Relief that he'd not have to kill that man. While he knew that Dormred - or whatever his name really was - was an enemy of the Potter family, Harry could never muster the belief that he'd needed to be killed. Stopped? Yes, most definitely. Through the bitter man's suicidal last defiance, Harry had been set free, but at what cost?

"Come on Sirius, you're wiped out," Alex cajoled as she helped him into the tent. Following the magically exhausted Padfoot, Harry leaned on Hermione while she leaned on him. A bubble of giddiness burst in his chest causing The Boy-Who-Lived to grin widely.

"Oh," Alex murmured as she turned back to Harry. "You're a big brother now. Your younger brother was born a few hours ago. Mum and baby are doing well."

Harry's grin widened. All around them, the family smiled. They needed some good news. "Shove a Pepper Up down the old dog's throat," Harry urged mockingly, "We need to go to Spain to celebrate."

.oOo.

James was shuffling through the pile of paperwork that Agatha had brought from his office at the ICW. Glancing up from the desk that he'd conjured for the master suite, he smiled as Lily lay on the bed nursing little Robbie.

Shaking his head at the wonder of the situation, he read through the latest minutes of the various subcommittees of which he was a member. Fortunately, the General Assembly was in recess for the upcoming Yule holidays, so no significant issues were being raised.

There was a note from Johann Gruber, the German Ambassador. Apparently, their combined efforts to convince the Egyptians to support the cause of the British Ministry in Exile were beginning to bear fruit. It was either that or Voldemort's xenophobic government had managed to offend the ancient magical Ministry of Egypt. While the fortunes of Magical Egypt had fallen from their majestic height of antiquity, their government was still the oldest in the entire world. Dating back to 4000 BC, there had been a continuous government operating since the Irish began excavating for their ancient magical barrow, Newgrange.

No matter the particulars, the Egyptians were well respected as an elder of the Magical world. Many countries followed their lead. Should they speak out in favour of the Ministry in Exile, it would be a significant boost to James and Amelia's efforts. Conversely, should the Egyptians speak out against the efforts led by Amelia and James, the Ministry in Exile would most likely be isolated bar a few staunch allies.

Russia was still rattling their sabre. That mean old bastard Ivanov was still rabble rousing. His intimidation tactics spoke more of Ivan the Terrible than Peter the Great, but they were, nonetheless, effective.

Speaking of which…

"Son of a bitch," James murmured aloud. There was a note from the reedy old Russian requesting a meeting to discuss `Issues of Import to both our countries'.

At the bottom of the note, he scribbled a note to Agatha to arrange a meeting with the man for the next week. He wanted to be home for a few days with Lily and the baby before returning to work. In any other circumstance, he'd stay home for weeks, but these were trying times and he was needed in the political `pit'.

"Could you burp him?" Lily sleepily called from the bed.

Springing to his feet, James was at the bedside in a moment. Throwing a towel over his shoulder, he scooped little Robbie in his arms. The tiny wizard curled into a comma shape as his papa gently patted the boy's back. A tiny wheezy pop announced the newborn's release of air trapped in his stomach. Along with a mouthful of semi digested breast milk.

Wiping his son's mouth, he gently laid the boy in his bassinet before chucking the soiled towel into the hamper in the corner. Turning to Lily, he saw her watching him with half lidded eyes and a gentle smile on her face. "How're you feeling?" he asked. "Still sore?"

She shook her head. "The potions and that spell of Alex's have done me up right."

"And the pain potions aren't helping at all?" Prongs jibed.

Lily chuckled, "True."

There was a sound like breaking glass that echoed about the estate. Frowning, James checked the clock. "Alex is back early," he commented. "Rauri," he called.

As the elf appeared, James heard a familiar voice - the voice of his eldest son - call out, "Mum? Dad?"

James' smile was as bright as the noonday sun as he met Lily's beaming face as he called out, "In the bedroom!"

.oOo.

Alex was right behind Remus as they entered James and Lily's rooms. Lily was propped up in the biggest bed she'd ever seen while James held a swaddled infant against his chest. A somewhat maternal woman, Alex always smiled when around babies.

There was a hesitant longing within her for a child of hers and Remus'. Because sterility was hit and miss with those afflicted with lycanthropy she never wanted to get her hopes up that once they decided that they were ready for children, they could have them. They wouldn't really know until they tried if Remus could father a child. Sterility tests on him had returned varying results. Sometimes it would show him as sterile, other times virile and still other times borderline sterile. The `proof was in the pudding' as they say. If she began to increase, then they'd know, but not before.

Moving to her lover's side, she saw the wide smile on Remus' face. She was expecting it, but when James placed little Robert in Remus' arms while saying, "Hold your godson, Remus," Alex was still moved. Stunned, Moony cradled the babe as if he were made of spun glass.

"Hullo, Robbie. I'm Moony and I'm your godfather." Placing a soft kiss on the boy's forehead, he began to sing Toora, Loora, Loora. She smiled sadly, remembering that Remus' mother, Georgiana, had been born and raised in County Wicklow. He was singing the lullaby to Robbie that his Mum had sung for him.

"Over in Killarney, many years ago…," he kissed the boy's brow again, "My mother sang a song to me in tones so sweet and low. Just a simple little ditty in her good old Irish way…." Now a tear gathered in his eye as he cuddled the boy close, murmuring, "And I'd give the world if she could sing that song to me this day."

Alex wrapped her arm about her man, laying her head on his shoulder so she could see the baby more clearly. The last time she'd seen him, he'd not been at his best.

James' voice whispered in her ear. "Lily and I would be honoured if you'd stand as Godmother." Closing her eyes as the emotion swamped her, Alex wondered why she was reacting so strongly. True, the day had been incredibly stressful, but it was more than that. There was an incredible sense of belonging, love and acceptance. She wanted these people to love her, to claim her as their own. This family was precious to her and by James and Lily's reckoning, she was precious to them as well.

In lieu of an answer, she kissed the crown of Robbie's head before singing, "Toora loora loora, hush now, don't you cry! Toora loora loora, that's an Irish lullaby."

.oOo.

Heartily, James embraced Harry. "Good to have you back, son," the young man greeted his son. Harry left Neville and William chatting behind him about William's questions about the Magical world.

"It's good to be back, Dad. How're things?" It always brought a warm feeling to Harry's chest to call this man `Dad'. No matter how long James and Lily were back into the time stream, a small part of Harry would always be the small orphan boy living in a cupboard wishing for his parents to love him.

"Good. Your Mum's a bit wiped out, but your brother is a warm, wiggling ball of flesh that has already soiled his nappies thrice. Once, he did so with an incredibly foul substance that was strangely reminiscent of…,"

Harry's laughter interrupted his father's rant, causing the two of them to chuckle for a bit. Harry sobered when James cut to the chase. "How'd it go?"

His chin dropping, Harry related the insertion, destruction of the compound of Dormred and the man's subsequent suicide with as few words as necessary. Harry tried to get the description out as fast as possible, hoping that through speed, he'd avoid the unpleasant memory. He was wrong.

Sighing, he slumped his shoulders after finishing his story. As he rubbed his neck and yawned, his Dad took him in his arms, holding him close. Once again, Harry savoured having not only a father, but his father. James had many, many flaws, but he was a good man and Harry loved him.

"Thanks Dad."

Unknowingly reiterating Remus from earlier, James murmured, "You did right."

Nodding, he patted his Dad on the arm. They'd talked about Dormred enough; it was time to let the dead bury the dead. Grinning, he prompted, "I think that Moony has hogged my little brother enough. I think it's time for his big brother to get some time in with the squalling infant."

James chuckled, "You're just hoping that Hermione seeing you holding a baby will get you shagged tonight."

"The thought did cross my mind."

Laughing, the eldest Potter men moved into the scrum about the bed.

.oOo.

"Weasley!"

Bill didn't look up from the map he was studying as he shouted, "Which one?"

"Both of you. Get over here."

Grumbling, Bill rolled up the map of Buckingham Palace. He'd been tasked to review the plan of the palace, hypothesizing the ward constructs that could be employed. For the past months he and his brother Charlie had been working with Mad Eye Moody's Auror Remnant team. They'd conducted raids, harassed the enemy, but made no substantial headway in retaking their country. This task to study the castle hinted at more than a rearguard action, though.

Plopping down in the comfortable chair across from Moody's desk, he deftly transfigured the other chair into a rough facsimile of a seated clown with its arm held out to be used as a writing surface. Charlie hated clowns.

"Ha fucking ha," he heard his dragon wrangler brother mutter as the transfiguration was reversed with a pop.

"You two need to pack your shit," Mad Eye began without preamble. He tossed a sheaf of parchment into Bill's lap. "Your egress path, identification paperwork…the lot." The man's manically spinning magical eye fixed on Charlie along with his human one, "Don't fuck this up. We've few enough fighters to lose you two pricks to being terminally stupid."

Throwing his hands in the air in indignation, Charlie protested, "Why're you yelling at me?"

Jerking his thumb at Bill, the crusty Auror replied, "Because he's too pretty to take seriously. You leave in a half hour. Get out of my sight."

Bill chuckled as he stood. Mad Eye was a complete bastard but he was also a complete professional. The day before Britain fell, Bill thought that he was a pretty competent wizard. Experience would broaden his knowledge, but he thought he was pretty good.

Working with Mad Eye had awakened him to the fact that his knowledge of magic was very specialized and very formal. The man could do things with a wand that were theoretically impossible. To say he'd been humbled was an understatement.

After Britain fell, he made his way to the coast to meet his brother as his parents and younger siblings fled the country. Except Percy. No one knew where he was. Together, Charlie and Bill had made their way to Hogwarts, getting in under the wards before they went into complete lockdown. There they'd hooked up with the recovering Alastor Moody and had been with him ever since.

At his bunk, he stuffed his few belongings in a satchel that he promptly shrunk and stuffed into his pocket. All the team wore normal clothes and had learned - through painful lessons - how to mingle and blend into the non-magical population of Britain. Looking about, he searched for the one person that he needed to see before he left.

There.

Winding across the room, he slipped into the chair next to her at the cafeteria style table. "Cherie," he murmured.

Fleur Delacour looked up at him, smiling briefly. The scars that covered the left side of her face made it impossible for her to fully smile.

Placing his hand on her thigh, he squeezed affectionately. "Moody is sending me and Charlie to Spain for something. I don't know when or if we'll be back."

A flash of despair flitted through her perfectly blue eyes. Pressing her lips together, she nodded grimly. "We knew this day could come."

She sighed, crumpling in her grief. Seeing her emotion, Bill allowed the door to crack open on his own fears and anxieties. Wrapping his arm about her shoulder, he kissed her head. "I want you to know something, Cherie."

She looked up at him, a crystalline tear tracking down her marred cheek. Placing both hands on her cheeks, he looked her deep in her eyes, "I love you."

Fleur's eyes flashed with joy, triumph and…fear? "Non, do not do that. Not now Bill."

"I have to tell you."

She began to stand, but he stopped her. From behind him, Bill heard Charlie bellow, "Oi, Billy! Time to move!"

Ignoring his brother, Bill stood with his girlfriend. Turning her to face him, he was stunned to see tears tracking down her face. "You must know how I feel about you?" he asked plaintively. At the moment, he didn't give a shit that he was standing in the middle of fifty other men while they all watched himself declare his undying affections for this woman.

"Fleur?"

"Guilliame…" she whispered. It was the name she called when they made love. It was the only time she called him the French version of his name.

"I love you Fleur. I will find you somehow."

She stared at him, frozen in fear, pain or he knew not what. A gently hand squeezed his shoulder. "Sorry, Bill, but we do need to get moving. The train leaves in ten."

Nodding to his brother without taking his eyes from Fleur, he leaned in to kiss her. The passion and force in her embrace took him aback, but he held her close for a long moment before breaking away. Just as he opened the door to leave, he heard her voice.

"I love you Bill!"

A/N

1. I own nothing. Thanks to all who reviewed the first twenty-three 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. Most of the time.

2. The recommendation for this chapter is His Angel by durararaaa. It's an excellent Harry/Fleur fic that's actually believable! There's a wonderful character driven plot that isn't too heavy on the OCs but is separate enough from canon to be fresh. Enjoy it.

Also, if you get the chance, check out Jean by Majerus. He's a first time author with an interesting approach to readdressing the Hogwarts years. Very interesting, check it out.

3. In 1963, Kim Philby was revealed to be a member of the spy ring now known as the Cambridge Five, the other members of which were Donald Maclean, Guy Burgess, Anthony Blunt, and another uAncertain individual. Of the five, Philby is believed to have been most successful in providing secret information to the Soviet Union. His activities were moderated only by Joseph Stalin's fears that he was secretly on Britain's side. Philby was an Officer of the Order of the British Empire (OBE) from 1946 to 1965

Chapter complete 12/29/12

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