Summer in the Sahara

Standard Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to: Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books, and Raincoast Books, and Warner Brothers, Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. The only things owned by the authors, Leslie Parsons and Jonathan Clift, are the plot and character's not previously mentioned in the official Harry Potter books. If you wish to use plot devices or borrow characters, please ask for permission: the worst we can do is say “no”.

Authors' Note: SEX. Now that we have your attention, we'd like to say “thank you” to all those who have read and reviewed Summer in the Sahara. Thank you, too, for your willingness to accept new characters. Don't worry, you'll be getting ever increasing doses of Harry and Hermione from here on out. And, as to the “who” and “what” of what Jon and Leslie are? It will be revealed as the story progresses.

Last but not least, to those who have asked about the Deeper Magic series, it is comprised of: Harry Potter and the Prophecy of the Phoenix, Summer in Cornwall, Summer in the Sahara, and a yet-to-be written piece called Harry Potter and the Tablet of Destiny.

Thank you again for your readership and your feedback. We look forward to more.

Enjoy!

Chapter Three - The Burrow and Beyond

There was an immediate uproar on the beach. Sirius, Remus, Jon and Leslie crowded around Harry and Hermione. Everyone seemed to be talking at once.

“When did it happen?” “What else do they say?” “There must be something we can do
”

Sirius raised a hand for silence.

“What does the letter say, Harry?”

“Just that he's missing for over a week now, and that the Weasley's are frantic. They're asking for our help.” he said, tensely. “They want us to come to the Burrow as soon as we can, but there are no details beyond that.” Harry held up the hastily written note, Ron's scrawl nearly illegible with haste and worry. Harry's face had paled slightly beneath his tan. He looked ready to apparate directly to the Burrow. Hermione laid a hand on his arm.

“We'll need to get a few things together first,” she said quietly, having correctly sensed his desire to rush headlong to the Burrow. He nodded, and then glanced around.

“Who's going?” he asked, looking from face to face.

“Count me in,” said Sirius.

“And me,” from Remus.

Jon looked a question at Leslie, who inclined her head slightly.

“Us too,” Jon said, answering for them both.

Harry was gratified.

“Right, then. I'll send Pig back with a note to Ron to let him know we're coming. In the meantime, we should get packed.”

“And let Dumbledore know
” Hermione added thoughtfully.

Belongings were gathered hastily from the sand. Without much conversation, they sped along the cliff path and back to Paravel. Harry dispatched Pig immediately back to the burrow, then sent a second message to Dumbledore with Hedwig. Arabella became quite distracted at the idea that all of them leaving for the desert and insisted that Hopkins prepare “rations”. What these were, no one knew, but each member of the “search and rescue” team was forced to accept a few lumpy bundles wrapped in brown paper and smelling distinctly like the mixed fragrances of the larder.

It was well past midnight, but no one could sleep. Hermione was packing and re-packing spell books, Leslie was reviewing her maps of the Sahara obsessively, and Jon was writing (for the second time) to his sister, Jules Clift, Ministry Ambassador to Morocco. Remus was in Paravel's small potion's chamber assembling a kit of highly useful and extremely powerful magical elements for each member of the party, while Harry and Sirius paced the terrace restlessly.

Godfather and godson, so alike, were men of action. It was maddening to them to watch the minutes and hours tick past without doing something. But Dumbledore's owl had been quite clear. No one was to leave Paravel until morning. It would take time to arrange each critical portkey.

After much discussion and several exchanges by owl to Dumbledore, they had decided that in the morning, Harry, Hermione and Sirius would apparate to the Burrow to offer the Weasley's what comfort they could, get any additional facts, and then form (with members of the Weasley family) a search party destined for Cairo.

Remus, Leslie and Jon would wait at Paravel for a portkey to arrive from Dumbledore which would take them directly to the Ministry Embassy in Morocco where they would receive further instructions from Jules Clift.

Morning found Harry, Hermione and Sirius in Paravel's elegant foyer, bags in hand, prepared to apparate to the Burrow. Leslie hugged Hermione tightly, saying,

“See you in a few days. Tell the Weasley's not to worry
we'll find him.” Leslie's voice was strained, but she managed a small smile.

“Careful out there,” Remus said quietly, hugging Hermione and giving Harry a look that plainly said, “Take care of her”.

Jon stretched out a hand saying, “God speed, Harry.” There was a flash of preternatural light from Jon's eyes and Harry felt a slight jolt, then tingling spreading up his arm. Inexplicably, Harry suddenly felt certain that they would find Bill - that they would save him. But this curious exchange had gone unnoticed by the other members of the party. Arabella addressed Sirius,

“I am not to hear that even so much as a hair on anyone's head has been harmed. Do you understand?” He nodded and hugged her, for despite her fierce words, there were tears glistening in her eyes.

“Best be off then,” said Sirius and with a “pop”, he, Harry and Hermione apparated to the Burrow.

Hermione lurched against Harry slightly as a rush of wind surrounded them. She righted herself quickly as her feet touched the solid floor of the Weasley's kitchen. There was a murmur of noise from the family that had gathered at the breakfast table, unable to eat the food Molly had prepared.

An unnatural quiet hung over the usual lively Burrow. The cheerful banter that accompanied most meals was absent, replaced by a silent strain. Worried faces turned in the direction of the party from Paravel. Molly's eyes were red-rimmed. Ginny was pale. When Hermione hugged them both, Molly came dangerously close to breaking down, but by sheer force of will, did not.

Ron got awkwardly to his feet to greet Harry and Sirius. There were dark shadows under his eyes and he looked thinner. Ron managed a weak smile and gestured to the empty chairs at the table.

“Morning Arthur,” Sirius said quietly, directing his attention to the head of the table where Arthur Weasley sat heavily, clearly consumed with worry. Arthur lifted his head at the sound of his name and Harry was shocked. Mr. Weasley's eyes had a haunted, dead look about them. His voice was toneless as he spoke. “Thank you for coming,” he said, directing his gaze to Sirius, Harry, and Hermione in turn. “I only hope it's not too late.”

“Tell us everything Arthur, - everything you know
” Sirius said, with the air of someone who would never accept the idea that it was too late.

In halting sentences (and with a few interruptions from Molly), Arthur explained that Bill had been expected to deliver the contents of a newly curse-freed tomb to a colleague from Gringott's some ten days ago, but that Bill had never arrived. The colleague waited for two days before notifying anyone at Gringott's home office in the hopes that Bill had just been unavoidably detained, knowing that he would turn-up eventually with a big grin on his face and sacks of gold in tow. Bill had done things like this hundreds of times - after all, curse-breaking was an inexact science. But by the third day, the colleague grew worried and contacted the home office.

Gringott's officials requested assistance from local authorities, but without much success. In the mind's of Cairo officials, if a wizard with a fantastic treasure disappears, it is more likely to be theft than kidnapping - and theft from Gringott's was always handled “internally” so to speak. So, in typical bureaucratic fashion, Cairo authorities paid only lip-service to the request from Gringott's to locate Bill and did, essentially nothing about his disappearance.

At this news, Sirius made a derisive noise. “Nothing's been done - for ten days. And they've only just told you?” Arthur mumbled something that sounded like an acknowledgement. “But the trail may have gone cold by now!” Sirius roared in frustration. In a wooden voice, Arthur said,

“I'm leaving today. I'm going there myself to find him,” He paused, looking around at his family, “and you are not going with me.” There was a general uproar among the red-heads present.

Molly Weasley got to her feet, silencing everyone. “Your father is absolutely right. I am out of my mind with worry as it is
how do you think I'll feel if the rest of you are out there as well?”

Fred and George looked defiant.

“We're qualified wizards, and we're of age.” Fred said, matter-of-factly, “You can hardly stop us.”

Molly's hands were on her hips. Her mouth a thin line.

“And if Harry's going, then you know I am.” Ron said quickly.

“Same goes for me,” Ginny said, chiming in. “If Hermione's going, then so am I.”

But here, Molly Weasley drew the line. “You are most certainly not going, Ginny. Put the idea right out of your mind, because you are not to set one foot outside of Ottery St. Catchpole. Do you understand?” Ginny made a face, but fell silent.

“So that's it then,” said Arthur quietly looking at them all. “Sirius, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, and I will leave at once for Cairo.” Arthur straightened his shoulders. His voice seemed more normal and it was filled with purpose. “I'll arrange a portkey with the Ministry immediately.

Meanwhile at Paravel


Arabella, Jon, Leslie, and Remus stood staring at the spot where Harry, Hermione, and Sirius had just been standing. No one spoke. At last, Remus broke the silence.

“C'mon you two,” he said eyeing Jon and Leslie, “let's get the last of things together before Dumbledore arrives.”

“Dumbledore?” echoed Jon, surprised.

`He should be here shortly.” Arabella said smoothly. “Dumbledore will be bringing your portkey to Morocco personally.”

“Is he going with us then?” Leslie said, sounding both relieved and hopeful.

“No, my dear,” Arabella said with a slight shake of her head. `His duties at Hogwarts and to the Ministry prevent him from entering into any long absences from England.” Arabella saw Leslie's face fall slightly. “But,” she continued gently, “he has every confidence in your abilities, Leslie - as he does in yours, Jon.”

“Thank you,” Leslie murmured, giving Arabella a hug.

“She's right, you know,” said a voice behind them. The tall figure of a wizard was framed in the doorway to the sitting room. The long silvery white beard and twinkling eyes were unmistakable. Dumbledore had arrived.

Arabella embraced him immediately. He gave her a knowing smile, then turned to Jon, Leslie, and Remus.

“Time is short I'm afraid, and there is much to be said. Join me, please.” Dumbledore said, sweeping into the sitting room, his robes flaring out behind him - for despite his age, he still possessed great energy.

Dumbledore eased into a large armchair and bid the others be seated as well. “It seems fairly certain,” he began, “that Bill Weasley is being held captive by the wizard widely known as `The Dark One'. Jon stirred uncomfortably in his chair, remembering the atrocities Jules had described.

Dumbledore continued. “What is not certain is for what purpose he is being held. Prior to Bill's disappearance, twelve other highly qualified witches and wizards went missing in the same area - presumably as a result of some encounter with the Dark One. Although we can't be certain, it would seem that these individuals possessed some talents or abilities the Dark One wants or needs. Directly, or indirectly, he's using their knowledge and power for some larger purpose, but what that is, I cannot say.” Leslie felt a knot building in the pit of her stomach.

“How would you have us proceed, Dumbledore?” asked Remus coolly, as if he were merely asking for input on a class lecture.

“Carefully, thoughtfully, and un-emotionally if possible,” Dumbledore said with a slight smile, “But, barring that, just as you have intended. Go to the Embassy in Morocco and learn what you can as to this wizards movements and whereabouts. Seek his motivations, seek his lair, seek his destination and you will find Bill and with any luck, the other witches and wizards that are being held against their will.”

Dumbledore turned to Jon and fixed him in an unblinking blue-eyed stare. “Jonathan
” he began then dropped his voice slightly, becoming more familiar, “Jon, I know the burden you carry better than you know it yourself. I know how you've been working to master it, and to discover its origins. Your efforts have not gone unnoticed by me - nor will your abilities go unnoticed by those who seek to harm you. As you seek Bill - as you face your destinies in the desert - do not give way to the emotions that would cloud your judgement and give rise to the demon that great power can be. Seek another, find yourself. But do not think for a moment that you carry this burden alone. Draw on the strength of those around you - allow them to aid you and sustain you, just as you would do for them.” Dumbledore's gaze flicked almost imperceptibly to Leslie, then back to Jon.

“Yes Albus,” Jon said in a low voice. Dumbledore turned his attention to Leslie.

“You had planned to seek for something in the desert already, had you not?”

Leslie was a bit taken aback, “Yes, I had, but that can certainly be put on hold until
.” Dumbledore interrupted her,

“That is exactly what you must not do. You must find the Cadeau Du Soleil. Find it before The Dark One even realises it exists - before he can put it to his own uses. He must not have access to objects of such power. Destroy them if you have to, but don't let them be used for dark purposes.” Leslie was stunned, but nodded slowly.

Dumbledore's voice became more gentle, “And don't underestimate your own powers. You may think of yourself as a handmaiden to a wizard greater than yourself, but you are not. You have the power to read men's hearts - and in that sense, their truth. No mind reader can do that.” Leslie found herself on the verge of tears. Dumbledore patted her hand and then addressed them all.

“Never forget, you are only as strong as you are united. Stay together, work together, and you will succeed.” Silence fell over the group as each considered his words.

From deep within the folds of his robes, Dumbledore drew out an ornate silver-backed mirror and handed it to Remus saying, “This mirror is part of a set of two. You have one, Sirius now has the other. They have been enchanted to allow you to communicate with each other, no matter the distance between you. When you want or need a member of the other search party, simply look in the mirror and speak his name. You'll be able to talk easily with one another.”

“Thank you sir,” said Remus, pocketing the mirror.

“And now, are you all ready?” Dumbledore asked. Hastily getting to their feet and slinging bags over their shoulders, they nodded.

Dumbledore conjured an alabaster box (about the size of a cigar box) from thin air. It had a hinged lid and on the top there was an etching of a phoenix.

“Is that Fawkes?” Jon asked, recognizing the figure immediately. Dumbledore smiled. “It is indeed,” he said, delighted at Jon's quick eye. There was more to the young wizard than appearances would suggest.

“Contained in this box are the ashes from Fawkes' last burning day. I think you may find them most helpful to you in the not too distant future.” Dumbledore said, drawing out his wand. He pointed it at the box and said distinctly, “Portus”. The box glowed blue for a moment and shook violently in his hand, then became still. He held it out gingerly to Leslie who took it in trembling fingers. Jon and Remus stepped forward to lay a hand on each side of the box.

“Good Luck, my friends,” Dumbledore said just as Leslie felt the characteristic jerk behind her navel. The sitting room disappeared and Paravel was gone.

*****

At the Burrow


Arthur apparated to his ministry office to arrange their portkey to Cairo. In his absence, Molly, much like Arabella, fell to packing knapsacks of food and extra clothes for the unusual, if not extraordinary “rescue” team that had assembled in her kitchen.

Sirius turned to Fred and George, “What about Charlie? Isn't he coming?”

“Dunno,” said George. “Dad owled him, but we haven't heard from him yet.”

Fred shrugged, “Maybe he'll just meet us there - you know, apparate or something.”

“I suppose.” said Sirius slowly, scratching his chin, “We could really use Charlie if he can make it.”

Ginny piped up from behind Sirius, “Oh, he'll make it. Once he knows Bill's in trouble, he'll turn up. Our family are that way.” Ginny lowered her voice and winked at Sirius, “Sometimes, we just
turn up
if you know what I mean.” Sirius eyed her suspiciously and raised an eyebrow, but said nothing to Molly. In truth, he admired Ginny's spirit.

Arthur returned in less than an hour carrying what appeared to be a bottle of Ogden's Fire Whiskey in a gloved hand. Molly gaped at him, “That's the portkey!?”

He shrugged, “I think the fellows down in the Department of Magical Transportation thought it might come in handy
well
afterward.” Sirius privately agreed. Arthur looked like a man who could use a stiff drink.

When everyone was ready, and after Molly had made not one, but two rounds of tearful good-byes, Arthur gathered everyone around the bottle. It was a tight squeeze getting Harry, Hermione, Ron, George, Fred, Sirius, Arthur and all their things around the bottle, but at last, when everyone seemed to be making firm contact, Arthur closed his eyes to concentrate on the spell to activate the portkey. In so doing, he failed to notice Ginny creeping slowly on hands and knees through the group, lunging at the last second to touch the very bottom of the bottle with an outstretched hand.

Ginny felt the characteristic jerk behind her navel and knew that she had done it. She was enormously pleased with herself, not minding in the least how mad everyone was going to be.