Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/452294.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Harry_Potter_-_J._K._Rowling, Harry_Potter_-_Fandom
  Relationship:
      Harry_Potter/Voldemort, Hermione_Granger/Ron_Weasley, Sirius_Black/Remus
      Lupin
  Character:
      Harry_Potter, Lord_Voldemort, Albus_Dumbledore, Ollivander, Hermione
      Granger, Ginny_Weasley, Ron_Weasley, Sirius_Black, Remus_Lupin, Neville
      Longbottom, Luna_Lovegood, Draco_Malfoy, Blaise_Zabini, Millicent
      Bulstrode, Amelia_Bones, Narcissa_Malfoy, Lucius_Malfoy, Original
      Characters, Fawkes
  Additional Tags:
      Action, Adventure, Drama, Torture, Violence, Slash, Explicit_Sexual
      Content, Consentual_Sex, Anal_Sex, Bonding
  Series:
      Part 2 of Shadowed_Light
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-07-05 Updated: 2014-12-20 Chapters: 38/? Words: 347324
****** Weapon ******
by Jade_Tatsu
Summary
     Lucius' Rebellion failed which saved the Light and now the true
     battle against the Dark begins. All forces that can fight are
     frantically being mustered behind the Order of the Phoenix and their
     weapon - Harry Potter.
     But perhaps not everyone is as anxious to see the Dark fall as it
     would seem.
     Harry is working with the Order and the Ministry and his servants are
     playing all sides of the game but can he remain undetected and keep
     his promise to his beloved Lord Voldemort? Or will they end up
     fighting together, a long drawn out battle over years with no peace,
     no end in sight?
     Chapter structure re-worked for AO3.
Notes
     Warnings: Sex, blood, gore, torture, slash, shounen-ai, yaoi,
     homosexual, gay or whatever you want to call it. If you don't like or
     tolerate, don't read.
     This is the sequel to 'Possession' and starts off almost directly
     from where 'Possession' ends. It's not entirely necessary to read
     'Possession', but it would probably help enormously. It is still HP/
     LV but for the moment, I'm concentrating on advancing their story.
     Enjoy.
     Technically Harry is under-aged hence the warning.
     The chapter structure has been re-worked for AO3, merging chapters
     into each other to make them longer but the text is the same.
***** Reflections *****
Weapon
Chapter 1 Reflections
===
           Dumbledore sat in his office watching flickering flames. Fawkes was
crooning softly and the song was comforting. He needed it now, needed all the
comfort he could get. Outside the night was cold, cloudless and the light from
the stars glittered harshly reminding him that no matter how well things seemed
to be going there was always a chance that something would go wrong.
           He didn't need the reminder. He never needed the reminder.
           His blue eyes were tired.
           He supposed he should be sitting with Harry but at the moment Poppy
was treating the boy and both Remus and his Godfather were attending him.
Nothing was going to go near Harry for a while.
           After Hagrid had brought Harry to the castle, they'd managed to get
him into a private section of the infirmary without anyone knowing, and he had
used his authority to spell bind both the Aurors and Hagrid into silence.
They'd searched the area Harry had appeared in but had found nothing. As Hagrid
had claimed, the boy had just appeared, obviously apparating into the Hogwarts
wards.
           The Aurors had choked on the thought of the amount of power
necessary to do that but he had just nodded, knowing that Harry had that power
and more. Hagrid hadn't even cared, not about that anyway, he only cared that
the young man was safe. Still it had fallen to Dumbledore to calm the Aurors,
reassuring them that everything was okay and spinning for them the blatant lie
that Harry had only been able to do it because he was very stressed and had
called forth the wild magic unconsciously.
           Dumbledore looked upwards, closing his eyes, stroking Fawkes.
           So much had changed in the last twenty:four hours and he needed to
be alone to consider everything. He had been planning the battle against Tom
for decades and his plans took everything into consideration. There had been
set backs; he had never expected to lose both Lily and James. There had been
changes; he hadn't anticipated the complete ineptitude of the Ministry but
never that there been a time when he thought he had got everything wrong.
           He had never expected Tom's forces to be so strong.
           They should have lost last night.
           He had never expected to see rebellion within the ranks of Death
Eaters.
           That was the only reason they hadn't lost last night, the only
reason they had this chance to train, to fight but he had thought Tom would
have kept a closer eye on them, kept his forces loyal only to him or destroyed
the Rebellion long before it impacted upon him.
           He had never expected the Vampires to get involved.
           They had never before shown interest in the squabbles of Wizards,
remaining aloof and powerful, eternally evil and assured of their own ability.
They had always watched, even when approached, they would only train a select
few in the Dark Arts but never interfered themselves, no matter what happened.
It was understood that if, when wizards controlled their forces well enough,
then the ancient enmity would be renewed.
           He had never expected the Aurors to be so ineffective.
           They were trained by the best, they could fight, they were skilful
but their magic was weak and against an opponent who knew all their spells, it
was a test of strength, and they had been found sorely lacking. It could be
corrected but it would take time.
           He had never expected Tom to develop feelings for Harry.
           The torn robes, broken bones and lingering effects of the cruciatus
curse hadn't hidden all the evidence. He was sure, that if Tom had willed it,
there would not have been a mark on the boy but the Dark Lord wanted them to
know. Tom wanted them to know the full extent of his power that despite
everything that was happening he still had time to mete out more personal
torture.
           Of course Tom probably didn't think about it like that and by the
marks on Harry he had taken some care.
           Crucio had left its mark, so had the more mundane beatings but while
there was semen there was no evidence beyond that of sexual assault. The Dark
Lord had prepared Harry's body properly before he had raped him or else he'd
used a potion. There was no bleeding or tearing. It was a small mercy, one that
did not in any way make the act forgivable but at least the physical pain of
rape was not something Harry would have to experience again.
           So where did he go from here?
           Regroup.
           Everyone had to regroup now. Elliot had been pushing the virtues of
the Order and it would be up to him to make sure that when the Ministry came
looking they were ready. They would need more than strength to fight and if the
Ministry found them lacking...
           Dumbledore suppressed a shiver. If the Ministry found weakness
within the Order, Tom would find it faster and be far more ruthless. They would
have to hold a full meeting soon, so that he could outline the future.
           Tom... He too would be regrouping after Lucius' Rebellion. No doubt
he would purge the Death Eaters and a new wave of recruitment would start,
together with a new wave of terror. But that would give the Order the time he
needed.
           Blue eyes opened, looking back into the flames. As soon as Harry was
recovered enough to walk on his own he would be inducted into the Order, the
dangers of him knowing too much were now far outstripped by the dangers of not
being able to protect him. He could only give thanks to the powers that be,
that they had seen fit to return Harry to him again.
           Training.
           Harry.
           Harry needed it. If he was still calling upon the wild magic, he
needed it more than ever, or was his apparation into the Hogwarts wards
indicative of the ancient power he had inherited. Dumbledore shook his head,
looking back into the flames as Fawkes trilled, butting his fire plumage into
the ancient hand. Either way, Harry needed to be trained. Only he could become
the weapon and from what the boy had said to him, beaten and battered, half
conscious and in so much pain that the old wizard had been surprised he could
even speak, the boy was willing to become that weapon, would sacrifice himself
to see the Dark Lord fall. At least he hadn't been seduced by Tom's charisma.
           "You will not die, Harry," Dumbledore murmured. "Your power will not
allow it, not unless you are taking him with you, but you will have to
sacrifice everything else. I'm sorry, more sorry than you will ever know, but
this is the only way."
           Fawkes blinked ruby eyes but nodded, as he trilled his question.
           Dumbledore looked down at the phoenix. "Yes, it is unfair for us to
place our expectations on him, to expect all our mistakes to be rectified by
the following generation but there is no choice. I do not expect him to forgive
me Fawkes, I do not expect him to like me and I will not be surprised if as
soon as Voldemort is vanquished he turns his wand on me but Harry is the only
one who can do this and I will accept whatever punishment he inflicts for doing
this to him."
           The bird nodded again, crooning sadly.
           "I know Fawkes, I know," he whispered before becoming lost in his
thoughts again.
           Harry needed training and he would provide that training but by the
time he was done, the boy would hate him and would most probably be scorned by
the rest of wizarding society simply because he would be unstoppable, and so
powerful. Wizards were not known, after all for their acceptance of those far
more powerful than themselves, not unless they were convinced there was no
threat, or unless they knew they could control it. But Harry would be an
uncontrollable threat and that would be unacceptable. If they were stupid they
would try to kill him, and that would be a huge mistake. If they actually
learned something during the battles that were to come, they would try to
recruit him and that was the best outcome he could hope for.
           There would only be a select few who would accept him without seeing
the power.
           Albus shook his head, no matter what happened, he would do his best
to enlarge that select few as much as possible. It would be the least he could
do and it could be the only way of stopping Harry from becoming the next
Voldemort.
           He deliberately turned his thoughts away from the young Gryffindor,
upon which so much depended. He could make plans but he would need to speak
with Harry before anything solid could be determined. He would not make the
same mistake as he had made with Tom, even if he still didn't fully understand
what had driven the promising young man into the Dark Arts. No matter what Tom
said, he had done everything he could.
           The Aurors.
           For centuries they had been the Wizarding World's first line of
defence. They had also been the last line of defence for Dark Lord had ever
managed to drive them so far back. But Voldemort was not just a Dark Lord, and
his forces had proven themselves to be well trained, and well organised, almost
ridiculously so. And in proving it, they shown how badly defended the Ministry
was. Gindlewald's forces had never even gotten close but it appeared Tom had
learnt from the mistakes of the past.
           The Aurors would need to be trained. Their skills were not lacking.
They knew the spells, they knew how to fight but they could not translate their
skills into strength. They were unsure of themselves and after recent events,
they were not likely to be gaining any moral soon. He would have to work on
that as they could not be allowed to continue as they were. They needed to
fight the Death Eaters and win. That was the only way to give them the
confidence boost but until then perhaps combined training with the Order would
help.
           Yes, that was the only thing he could give them. The Ministry would
have to work out their own plans and the Department of Mysteries Unspeakables
would probably initiate their own training plans.
           The Students.
           They would need training as well. As much as it would cause problems
with the Ministry Remus needed to return. He was the only teacher capable of
progressing all the year levels through at least basic practical self defence
against the Dark Arts, and everyone would need that as quickly as possible.
Although... If he sold it right... He could always make the pitch to the
Ministry that showing a willingness to employ and support Werewolves would
serve to help them resist the inevitable advances from the Dark Lord.
           And right now, they needed to deprive Tom of every ally they could.
It couldn't be like 15 years ago. They could not afford that arrogance.
           Allies.
           There were precious few they could call upon now.
           They were using just about every resource in the Isles and while
they could call upon Europe, they could only expect a limited response. The
European Ministries just weren't capable of fighting well, they had never been
as developed as the Isles. Oh, they were competent enough in upholding the
decrees of the International Confederation of Wizards, and with dealing with
their own ghouls and horrors, but when it came to large scale warfare within
their ranks, they had only a limited conception about how to fight. They looked
to the Isles for guidance.
           Western Europe would help as best they could. Eastern Europe was the
vanguard in the battle against the Vampires and was too intimately involved
with that to fight, even if they wanted to.
           Asia was almost a complete unknown. Well, a complete provincial
unknown. They had never shown the slightest interest in the politics of their
brethren but equally they had never displayed any internal disputes. No matter
what was happening they presented the same neutral, exquisitely polite face to
the rest of the world and Dumbledore had a suspicion that they would continue
to do so for the foreseeable future, no matter who won this conflict. Their
motto was unashamedly, ignore us and we will ignore you. There would be no help
coming from there, but neither could the Dark Lord expect their support.
           He sighed.
           Africa was worse. Magic there was almost as splintered as the Muggle
Nations. They were capable of some highly skilful and devastating charms but
were so tied up with internal tribal conflicts that they barely heeded the rest
of the world. Even Egypt, with its ancient magical culture was so tied up in
preserving the past that they could barely see the future. The southern wizards
were worse. Again, no help would be forthcoming.
           Which left the Americas and Oceania...
           North America had a powerful wizarding presence and they would sense
the need to help out their European counterparts for if Europe was to fall to
the Dark Lord they would find themselves next on his target list. The Order had
some members there but recruitment was hindered by the presence of their own
equivalent Order. Still, he could expect some help. If nothing else they could
advise on the best methods of concealment from Muggles since they, of all
wizarding societies took great pride in their ability to hide and that applied
to both the native and immigrant wizards.
           Central and South America were much like Africa. They weren't quite
as bad but they were more concerned with showing that they were better than
their northern counterparts. Perhaps that was a way of recruiting them
though... Dumbledore frowned. Yes, perhaps that could be used to his advantage
although with the promises Tom was likely to make, he couldn't rule out some of
them throwing their lot in with the Dark Lord.
           Oceania was splintered like Africa but at least the factions worked
together when it was in their interest. The population was sparse but they
would help. They, like the Americas remembered their roots. Well, they did when
it suited them.
           As a last resort though, they could use both places as a refugee
point, shipping out those who were too young or too old to fight.
           No! It was not going to come to that, Dumbledore thought firmly.
           It was not going to come to that.
           He would not let it.
           He ran his aged hand over Fawkes again, drawing strength from the
bird. His plumage was as beautiful as ever and right now the phoenix was in his
prime. Strong, powerful, with a song that would give courage to anyone.
           "I'll need your power as well," the ancient wizard said softly.
           Fawkes responded, thrilling sympathetically and spreading his wings
in a traditional display. The mottled fire patterns seemed to move in the
uncertain light, making the bird even more beautiful.
           "We'll need the Unicorns as well, if they can be persuaded, and the
Centaurs. Everyone and everything that can fight against the darkness must join
together or I fear all will be lost."
           Another quiet croon conveyed the question.
           "Yes," Dumbledore couldn't help but smile slightly. "Even Hagrid's
pets if they will help, then we will fight with them."
           The bird looked up at him, slightly reproachful that he had not said
the most important thing before he flew to his pitch, singing kindly once more.
           "You are right. Harry is the Key. Without him, we cannot fight, and
without him there is no hope for victory. We will fight Voldemort, but Harry
will be the one who wins. He is the only one who can."
===
           Xeoaph ached. It was an unusual sensation for the ancient Vampire
since he normally felt nothing but it was not a feeling he enjoyed. He supposed
it was because he had used so much Wizard Magic over the last few days, lent
his strength too deeply and it was now impacting upon him with this aching
lethargy.
           The fact that the chamber he was in was half empty wasn't adding to
his mood. He had lived for a very long time and he prided himself on
neutralising threats to himself and his children efficiently but here he was
aching, with fully half his children dead, all killed by one man : if man it
had been : all in one night. He snarled at the memory. Whatever that thing had
been it would be begging him for forgiveness, for release before he was through
with it.
           It was high noon at the moment and the others were sluggish,
sleeping, concentrating on healing themselves. They were avoiding him, although
they had seen to it that he had fed, throwing a muggle child in his direction.
He'd discarded the desiccated remains earlier and even though such a slaughter
would usually have calmed him, this time, it did nothing.
           He closed blue eyes when he realised what was wrong.
           He was worried.
           And he had not been worried for centuries.
           He had watched Dark Lords come and go, heard the Wizards proclaim
each one more vile, more evil that the last, and had watched as they struggled
against them, sacrificing themselves but never rectifying the causes. Dark Lord
after Dark Lord had arisen, not always from the same bloodlines but often
spouting the same supremist nonsense. You'd think that after the first two or
three, the wizards as a whole would look at their views and society, at least
try to understand why Dark Lord after Dark Lord could rise with the same
philosophy and find followers in every generation.
           But no. The Wizards were the worst reflection of Muggles in that
way, no matter how they tried to call themselves enlightened. Muggles had the
same problems but at least some of them tried to understand and tried to act.
It didn't always work and it most often took a massacre before enough of them
took notice, but at least they tried.
           It seemed ages ago that he remembered hearing of a new Dark Lord,
rising from the ashes of Grindlewald's defeat. He'd thought nothing of it
except to think that this one was moving quickly. The vampires had quickly
discovered though that this particular Dark Lord, this Voldemort, had all of
Grindlewald's ambitions and more than enough power to back his desires. At
least initially, but then like all Dark Lords, his desires outstripped his
power.
           And then fifteen years ago it appeared over. He'd tried to take on
someone too powerful for him, someone who was willing to sacrifice themselves,
body and soul for another and in that instant the self:styled Lord Voldemort
learnt the final truth about Light and Dark. Without Light there was no Dark,
and without Dark there was no Light and that one would never allow the other to
become all powerful. And so it was, with a mothers sacrifice and the power of a
babe, that the Dark Lord Voldemort brought low.
           A fitting end to one whose ambitions had become unsuited for a
mortal.
           No matter how powerful, all Dark Lords were bound by the same fact,
a fact they seemed to conveniently forget, the fact that no mortal could
entirely forsake the light.
           Not unless you were a vampire but they were not mortal.
           "We are the Dark," Xeoaph whispered the words his Master had told
him eons ago, "because we have embraced the eternal Dark."
           The words did not bring him comfort.
           He could remember other Dark Lord's who had rallied from what seemed
death, but those were more like the last rattling gurgle before true death took
them. The Light was always quick to crush their last desperate gamble.
           But that had not happened to Voldemort.
           The Wizards had ignored the one who had brought them the news of his
return. Forsaken and ridiculed he had gone to the few who believed him but even
they could not launch an attack against the Dark Lord. It had not been until
the Dark Lord himself had appeared in public, killing the insipid Minister of
Magic had the British Wizarding Community taken the Lord Voldemort's return
seriously.
           And by then it had been too late.
           The Dark Lord had been allowed to gather his forces, human and
otherwise, and had honed them into a formidable fighting force that he had
directed against the forces of Light with all the skill he possessed, his
arrogance growing until he had dared to challenge the Vampires.
           Arrogance..?
           The question was quiet in his mind.
           Was it really arrogance?
           He shivered as he remembered the power Voldemort had shown him, the
power that had twisted through his body for an instant that seemed longer than
his two eons of life.
           If he uses that power, is it really arrogance?
           His mind would not let him forget.
           Centuries ago, when he had still been with his creator, his master,
that ancient Vampire had told him a story. It was a story he had thought only
fiction but it now seemed to hold more truth that he had originally thought.
Xeoaph did not know why he remembered it. In fact, in the intervening centuries
he was sure he had forgotten it, but exposure to that power that Voldemort had
inflicted upon him had brought the memory back, and he heard the words
hammering through his mind as if his master was standing behind him,
whispering.
           "Remember this, my childe. No mortal is ever pure light or pure dark
but there are those so light that they can control the dark, and those so dark
that they control the light. I met one once, many years ago, he was the light
that controlled the dark. He was very powerful but he was afraid of his own
power and the three with him were not helping him. Still my childe, the warning
was enough. If you ever find these mortals, do not fight them for should there
be one who accepts their power, all the world shall bow to their desires."
           "Surely not us, Master."
           "Allthe world."
           Xeoaph had been arrogant then, sure of a vampire's power but soon
after his Master had left him to fend for himself and he had learnt that being
the true Darkness was not enough to survive and from then his education had
truly begun. In time he'd learnt who his Master had spoken of and while he had
never met one like those his Master knew, he began to appreciate their power.
           One thousand years. It had been that long since his master had met
that mortal, and now there was another who controlled that power.
           Lord Voldemort.
           No! Xeoaph shook his head. He said himself he wasn't the master.
           'Stay away from my pet.'
           But he is proclaiming power over the one who is.
           Blue eyes closed as the elder Vampire forced himself to remember.
           The Dark Lord had used the lance of power against him and it had
hurt. It had only been an instant but it had hurt like an eternity and it had
damaged him, but it was damage he had quickly recovered from to stand before
that human Lord with all the assurance of one of his species.
           And then the Lord had claimed he wasn't the master of such power.
           That had been both confusing and insulting. To use such power, but
then to claim no mastery.
           He had seen, standing behind him, indistinct but compellingly
beautiful and powerful the online of another when the Lord Voldemort had
indicated that he should look.
           It was that one, he supposed who held the power over dark because
Xeoaph knew that the Dark Lord Voldemort had too much dark within him to truly
control it. But he had used the power of Dark and there was only one way for a
Dark Lord to use the power of dark... only one way.
           He'd seen the Dark Lords rise and fall. He knew that they were all
petty mortals with nothing but arrogant pride in their own abilities but he did
make the time to meet them as he met with all humans of interest, light or
dark.
           Thirty years ago, he'd posed as nothing more than a fledging Vampire
and had gone to see the Dark Lord, just to confirm to himself that he was an
arrogant mortal. He had not been surprised, just as he had not been surprised
when he'd met Grindlewald, Hathor, or Morgan. They were all only human.
           In fact there had only been one human who had surprised him in the
last few centuries, Albus Dumbledore, the man who had personally felled
Grindlewald and who was now leading the fight against Voldemort. The man was of
the Light but he had aspects of Dark so profound that Xeoaph had almost been
confused when he met him. It had taken a few moments for him to see which side
Dumbledore was truly on and he had relaxed. The now old wizard was not
balanced, there was only one who was, if wizard he was.
           Mortals, human, animal, it did not matter, were either Light or Dark
even if they didn't realise it themselves. In all his years of life Xeoaph had
only met one who was balanced, containing equal Light and Dark, and he was
almost sure that his master had never met anyone either. When he'd first met
him, Xeoaph had been learning wizard magic and he would have sworn the man was
human, creepy, with far too many insights, but mortal. Seeing as how the man
was still alive today, several centuries later, the assumption of mortality was
beginning to wear thin. He was not one who sustained himself with a
Philosopher's stone, those temporary immortals had a peculiar smell, he did it
some other way. It was a curiosity to the vampire, but not such a large one
that he felt the need to find the answer.
           Whatever it was though, it was a way both Light and Dark would kill
for but had never come close.
           Unless of course Voldemort had. Fifteen years ago he had been
reduced to a spirit, wandering the wilderness, gaining strength from the wild
animals, creatures too weak to be able to resist him. And then, almost two
years ago now, he had regained a body. His original body was gone but he had
composed a new body, one that was stronger but less human. And then two days
ago, in the midst of fulfilling the dreams of all Dark Lords, he had been
struck down, killed with the one curse that had forever been fatal.
           'Vengeance will be mine.'
           The words of a dying Dark Lord.
           He would have paid them no heed, except for what happened then. The
Rebellion should have won. With Voldemort dead, that final proof Xeoaph had
been seeking, the Death Eaters should have scattered, to be cut down by their
colleagues, or the Ministry. But nothing of the sort had happened. Lucius
Malfoy, with his backing, should have won, not that he'd intended to back the
blond for much longer. His only aim had been to restore the wizarding community
back to its temporary and precarious balance, so that his kind could continue
to marshal their strength.
           Who were those two?
           Black robes and inky black power. They had driven all assumptions
away leaving only questions.
           Were they the power behind Voldemort?
           Was this new Voldemort only a construct from their power?
           Which one of them held dominance?
           What was their power?
           And why did they seem confident of resurrecting the fallen Dark
Lord?
           Was Voldemort truly the Dark Lord? Or was he a pawn for such a
being?
           If Voldemort was truly alive once again, then perhaps he was worthy
of the regard given to him by the wizards, worthy of that title they gave all
Dark Lords, 'Most Evil'. But if he lived, did he live because of the power of
those two, or through the power inheritant in a vampire's blood, or through his
own ability? If he lived through their power, was he a puppet, or were they
manifestations of the Dark that only served the true Lord? Or was Voldemort
still nothing more that, a mortal, who tenaciously clung to life?
           The battle just past had raised too many questions that had no
answers and he could not afford to make assumptions.
           If what he told me is true, then he cannot wield the power of the
Dark, so he is only a Dark Lord, not the Dark Lord.
           However, he did wield it for an instant so he must know who the Dark
Lord is, and he must in some way be able to communicate with them, enough so
that their power is lent to him.
           The ancient Vampire nodded to himself. That made sense. If the two
fighters who had appeared were servants of the Dark Lord, and had acted to save
Voldemort on their masters orders, then there was still a chance the Serpent
Lord could be defeated, for surely the Dark Lord knew that the only creatures
of true dark were the Vampires and surely the Dark Lord was another Vampire,
playing with mortals.
           That made sense. The smaller one, though, had obviously been given
to Voldemort as a token of good faith, but the taller one was still connected
to his master, and was a living channel for their power. He looked down at the
empty spaces, his children gone, lost to the power of Dark.
           "I will not make the same mistake again."
           The Dark Lord Voldemort had to fall, for he was playing with power
he did not understand and that should not be used by mortals. The one mortal,
if it was a mortal, who did use it, seemed content to remain unknown and Xeoaph
nodded. That's why they sent their servants.
           Aged blue eyes closed. I will have to help the Light, for they are
still too weak, but if the Dark Lord Voldemort is alive through my blood...
           The Dark was supporting a Dark Mortal simply because it could. But
the power was limited, he had felt that so if Voldemort lived, it was through
some other power, a vampire's power.
           "I can destroy you Voldemort," Xeoaph hissed, grinning. "I cannot
undo the power of my blood but all vampires are subjected to the same laws. I
cannot undo it, but my master can.
           "You will fall mortal, because the dark will not back you forever
and I will be waiting."
===
           Voldemort stood alone on the parapet of his stronghold. Ruby eyes
gazed out at the almost black rock strew field that was on this side. It was
the only open approach to his stronghold. The other sides were sheer cliff
faces with hundreds of metres rock falls leading down to the icy ocean. He
could distantly hear the booming of the water but it could be mistaken for the
hissing of the wind easily enough.
           Sword grass and clumps of the tough mondo grass grew in the field to
about knee height before the constant cold wind curtailed any further growth.
It waved now as it was whipped about by the wind.
           His robes snapped around him, the heavy crimson fabric billowing
almost ponderously but he was not cold. He was a serpent but he was not so
limited that he was incapacitated by temperature.
           The past few days had been a trial. The culmination of patient
labour had been destroyed in a single night. It always seemed to happen that
way. Perhaps he had overstepped his bounds, but he had not overstepped his
ambition. The world would bow to him. It would just take a little longer to
reach his goal.
           For now though he was assessing the battle and regrouping. That
idiot Malfoy had scattered his forces driving some of them back into their bolt
holes, and causing still others to be captured. The Rebellion that the blond
had lead had been damaging, he could not deny that, and if he had thought that
it was going to be as wide spread he would have crushed Malfoy weeks ago,
taking the risk of the conspirators choosing a new leader and biding their
time.
           Of his non:human allies he had but a handful left. The vampires had
never supported him, the giants were too splintered, trolls and ogres weren't
worth bothering with and goblins... He shuddered. He'd kill the goblins himself
before he bothered with them. They were only good at fighting each other.
Unless he could get a major group like the werewolves on side, his non:human
forces would remain weak for quite some time. Lucius' forces had made a point
of killing them outright.
           Although... The shadows could potentially fight.
           :No. Not unless our Master wills it,: the darkness whispered to him.
:You will have to conquer by yourself.:
           The Dark Lord nodded. He had been expecting something like this from
his beloved's servants and it was probably better this way. If he began using
the shadows, then Harry could not without questions being raised.
           "Could I get a few limited services?"
           :Yes,: the agreed quietly, sensing his need.
           Voldemort nodded, before looking back to the grass.
           The serpents would fight for him but their abilities in battle was
limited so with his non:human forces almost non:existent that left his Death
Eaters as the main force. This was not unusual but with their reduced numbers
he would have to be careful to ensure that he was using them in the most
efficient manner.
           He sighed, some few of his Death Eaters were unsuited to combat but
in supporting roles... Their abilities were almost legendary. He would need to
start establishing bases and safe locations for his forces soon. That would
also serve to establish him as a legitimate alternative and would allow further
recruitment.
           Losing Lucius as an individual wouldn't have been a problem, but
Malfoy's Rebellion seemed to have called upon his more public followers, those
the Ministry suspected. While it did mean now that his forces were truly
hidden, it would severely affect his ability to recruit. Lucius had been not
been public with his support but for anyone with a brain his loyalty had been
obvious and he and his ilk provided many recruitment opportunities.
           He would need to get some Marked students within Dumstrang, Hogwarts
and Beauxbatons as soon as possible, despite the risk. There were potential
followers there but they had no way of finding him. And he would need to, as he
had done in the early days, put the word out with the practitioners and
suppliers of the Dark Arts. He had been generous in the past, they would not
deny him now.
           He looked up at the sky. A few tattered clouds raced passed, briefly
obscuring some stars. It was moonless here, and the dark was almost absolute.
Darkness that he could hide in... no.
           After the battle just past, he no longer had a choice. Years ago,
during his first rise, he had used stealth, expanding his forces and influence
by slowly convincing family after family, clan after clan. But that took time.
And that took a Ministry that was not looking for a Dark Lord. It had only been
because he had acted so fast after the defeat of Grindlewald that he had
managed to remain undetected for so long, a mere terrifying rumour.
           But the Ministry knew him now, and was watching. He would be able to
gain some followers as he had in the past, but his major gains would have to
come through open combat. They were watching for him and his forces, so he
would give them something to watch.
           Stealth was well and good, but it left him open to infiltration.
Open battle was different like that, infiltrators had to fight their own and
would be recorded as fighting on his side, so that they could never go back.
           He would have to harness his forces and resources but with the right
planning open combat would be beneficial. He could stand against anyone that
way, and his forces would gain strength and courage as they became used to what
they could do.
           Wizard fighting wizard in battle was not the same as duelling. It
came down to the strongest group and the best planner and he was no mean
general.
           The only question remained with the Vampires.
           They would never support him. After Xeoaph had so openly backed
Lucius even if another elder crawled to him, he would destroy it before he
would ally with them. Unless it was Xeoaph's Master.
           Voldemort suppressed a smile at the childish imagining, seeing the
elder vampire's horror as he ordered him and his forces to stand down, an order
that was backed by Xeoaph's Vampiric Sire. As pleasing as it was, it would be
impossible. Xeoaph was over two thousand years old. His sire was almost
certainly dead... wasn't he?
           Blood red eyes narrowed slightly as the Dark Lord realised he did
not know. He shrugged finally. It did not matter. He had already obtained the
elder Vampire's blood and needed nothing further from him. Xeoaph could order
his children to fight for the Ministry, but that was all he could do.
           :He can die.: The shadows suggested thoughtfully.
           "He can, but he probably won't," Voldemort agreed easily as he
turned back to the interior, running a long fingered hand through his hair. He
wasn't so stupid that he did not appreciate how difficult it was to kill a
vampire of that age. No... Let the Ministry attempt that, he would be content
with neutralisation.
           His path was clear now, and he had to be ready by the time the
Ministry and Dumbledore regrouped.
           Summon his forces, verify their loyalty, destroy the traitors, and
then choose his first battle ground.
           But for now, he had to keep the Ministry off balance. They would no
doubt be seeking revenge for their almost loss and he would need to distract
them...
           Ah... A sinister smile crossed his features.
           That insipid paper had survived his attack but there were many uses
for the media. Perhaps he would give that annoying reporter the story they had
been dreaming of and then see how the Ministry played to that. It would be a
good way measuring them, as well as providing an opportunity for those who were
as yet undecided as to where they stood to see that he was real.
           Yes, he would do that tomorrow. In the meantime though, he had
traitors to torture and the heads of two particular traitors to deliver to
Hogwarts.
           In truth, he wasn't really sure what to do with Lucius. For the
moment, those who had been captured were languishing in his dungeons, the magic
having been stripped from them by the shadows, and no doubt the Dementors were
feasting on their memories.
           They would die. He knew that. But to just kill them would not
inspire fear, not would it serve his purpose although their sudden
disappearance would raise questions. Perhaps it was for the best if they should
just disappear, never to be heard from by either side again.
           :That is too easy for Lucius.:
           "So you agree for the others?"
           :With the right rumours, it would certainly help. Or let them be
found slowly, one at a time so that the world wonders what has happened.:
           Voldemort nodded. "So what of Malfoy?"
           :For now, we suggest nothing. Let him wonder, let him torture
himself with the knowledge of his failure.:
           "Let him live long enough to see my victory?"
           :Yes.:
           "You have something else in mind, don't you?" The Dark Lord accused.
           :Yes,: the shadows agreed without the slightest trace of concern. :
You'll work it out in time. Just leave him for the moment since our Master is
not quite ready for the torture we wish him to inflict.:
           "I will wait then," Voldemort agreed. "I will keep him, just as I am
keeping those Muggles."
           He settled himself down in his throne, looking around the room. The
shadows seemed deeper than they had been several days ago. The Dark Lord
allowed himself a small smile, before he focused his power slightly, bringing
Zabini and Bulstrode to him.
           The two black robed wizards landed on the cold stones with a slight
thud before they blinked in the sudden light. They made no effort to move and
the Dark Lord examined them with narrowed eyes, remembering what Harry had told
him about feeding his servants.
           "So this is the result," he murmured, altering his eyes to see their
magic. He jerked slightly in surprise when they appeared as nothing more than
dark lumps to him. He could see them, they weren't completely devoid of magic
or light, but they were like a Muggle to a Wizard : lifeless, weak.
           :They weren't even that tasty,: the shadows observed, earning a
small smile.
           "Oh, so what is tasty?"
           :Heh...When you and our Master lay together, that was a feast such
that we will do everything in our power to see repeated.:
           The Dark Lord blinked. Blood red eyes showed nothing before he
laughed in absolute delight, surprise turning into expectation. "See that you
do," he hissed before looking back at his captives. From the way that what was
left of their magic was distributed he could see that it had been striped
thoroughly. There was a small flicker remaining there though, around their
solar plexus. That was keeping their bodies alive. It was all that was
necessary although it was interesting to note, that now they were weaker than
most Muggles.
           "Why did you not consume all their light?"
           The shadows hesitated and the Dark Lord waited. They did not have to
answer him, he knew, only Harry had that power but they had been forthcoming so
far. :Our Master does not know yet and we do not usually do that. If we consume
every last bit of light within someone they can no longer serve our purpose as
they are no longer separate. They become one of us but they are not one of us.
It is like those who are born vampire and those who are turned. Those who are
born vampire are powerful, from birth, those who are turned take centuries,
eons to reach the same level of power. We have no wish to dilute ourselves and
so do not re:create that way, except for a few, gifted individuals who match
our power when turned.:
           Voldemort nodded. He understood. He didn't understand everything
though. There were things there that they were not telling but he understood
their reasoning. He was still curious though. "Would you consume Harry?"
           Once again they paused. :We already consume his radiant power.:
           "But you do not consume the whole."
           They seemed to sigh and the Dark Lord got the distinct impression
that they were arguing amongst themselves. :We would consume Harry,: his answer
came after a moment.
           One black eye brow arched at their choice of words. They never
called his beloved anything but Master.
           :We would consume Harry,: they repeated, :But such Light would
likely kill us.:
           "I did not think your kind could die."
           :We do not die,: they clarified. :Not of old age, not of anything.
But we can be destroyed and his power is that which can do that. It is poison
to us, and once infected it would spread throughout the whole and we would all
die.: They sensed the further question. :We serve, Dark Lord, because we are
the Dark and some poisons are empowering when given in small doses.:
           "But you are an ultimate power already," Voldemort objected,
wondering why they would submit. "You do not need the extra power."
           :We are addicted, we are dark but like you we know that there must
be light.:
           The Dark Lord nodded, his prisoners forgotten by his thirst for
knowledge about his new allies. They were intriguing and the complexity of
their relationship to the light was breathtaking. There was so much more he
knew they were not saying, so much more he knew there were just no words for
and he knew he would only ever begin to grasp the edges of understanding. "Does
Harry know?"
           :Yes. He understands instinctually what lies between us. He
understands everything, even if he does not yet know it all.:
           "Ah," that was all he could bring himself to say.
           :You are concerned Dark Lord, there is no need. We will not betray
and we will always answer his call. Between our master and us, there is more
than a contract, there is more than instinct and power. There is need and there
is requirement. What binds him to us, and us to him cannot be broken, and
cannot be ignored by either of us. Throughout time it has always been that way
and should our master become immortal, it will remain that way.:
           Voldemort nodded again, suppressing a slight shiver at the power
they were radiating. It was the extremes of everything all at once : love,
heat, rage, black, loyalty, whole, alone, unknown, light, dark, known,
accompanied, broken, deceit, white, calm, cold, hate : unique and powerful and
the sense was gone in an instant as the shadows withdrew.
           Zabini and Bulstrode shivered as well, their eyes wild as they
sensed their tormentors but that terror was quickly forgotten as a more
immediate threat materialised. They might have been sapped of all magic,
completely without light and without hope, but they were still alive and on
some level all living beings crave life, even when sacrificing itself for the
greater good, there is always a part that still wishes to live. With all other
parts traumatised or destroyed, that part was now in control.
           Voldemort smiled. It was not the gentle smile he gave his beloved
but one of pure anticipation. Beings who were clinging to life were the most
fun to break. They could be humiliated, driven, controlled. Every scream was
just the indication of their delusion and his control. Harry would learn the
pleasure of control in time and it would be a joy teaching it to him, but for
now, he had his own entertainment to attend to.
 
***** The Order of the Phoenix *****
Chapter Notes
     Text Key
     :blah: Telepathic conversation
     $blah$ Phoenix conversation
     -blah- Parseltongue conversation
Weapon
Chapter 2 The Order of the Phoenix
       Harry leaned back, grateful for the supporting warmth of his Godfather.
He hadn't turned sixteen yet so this questioning from the Aurors was barely
legal, even with his Guardians presence.
       But it was one of those things he had to do... He shook his head
briefly. He couldn't think like that, he'd make a mistake sometime, if he did
that. He had to immerse himself back into the person they thought he was, so
that they would never know, not until it was too late. His beloved would
understand, would wake him up in time.
       Brilliant emerald eyes opened and he looked around. It wasn't their
fault. These Aurors were actually quite nice. They were nothing like those
Fudge had kept, all convinced of the Minister's brilliance. No, these ones were
realists. They were battle scarred and tough. They remembered what it had been
like to fight in the past and they wanted, desperately, to avoid that again.
But they would not just surrender. Around them was a hint of panic. None of
them knew how lax things had become, but they were all prepared to change that.
       They were nice. They believed him. They knew what he was telling them
was the truth and he could feel their respect. They regarded him, not perhaps
as a warrior, but as one who understood what the true battle would be like.
Even so, they were not taking it easy on him. They had to know, and they had to
know now and they were fierce in their intensity. He did not have the luxury of
time.
       He hoped though, that when everything was decided that some of them
would have the sense to bow to the inevitable. He didn't really want to destroy
them all.
       :Seduce them.:
       :Huh?:
       :They are loyal, they will be destroyed.:
       :So how does seducing them help?:
       :Make them loyal to you, Master, then there is no betrayal and they will
follow where you choose to lead.:
       Harry blinked carefully and then nodded, seemingly in response to one of
the questions. It was a good idea, and it was perhaps the only way he would get
an accurate picture of events. Dumbledore, even now, seemed reluctant to tell
him everything.
       :Dumbledore is waiting until you are inducted into the Order of the
Phoenix.:
       :The Order of the Phoenix?: Harry asked. He had heard of the Order, but
he had no real idea of what it did.
       :You will be a weapon in this battle, but you will be one provided by
the Order to the rest of the wizarding world.:
       :Thus keeping the Order powerful.:
       :Yes.:
       :How do I seduce them?: Harry asked quickly, now more than convinced
that he needed the outside source of information. The fact that they would
become his followers could be dealt with later.
       :Let us handle that, Master.:
       :Is there anyone else I should see?:
       The shadows measured the question for a long moment. They had not
thought that their Master was ready for such considerations just yet but it was
an indication of how much he had grown. :The Vampires will need to be forced
into submission, the giants are too few to bother with and goblins... we share
the Dark Lord's sentiments there : they are only good at fighting themselves.
Manticores and chimera act as individuals but will recognise your power,
serpents belong to your beloved. Dark Elves are destroyed at birth and those
few that survive live such a mean existence that death is a mercy. Dementors
are already yours and...: They paused.
       :And?: Harry prompted.
       :What do you feel about werewolves?:
       :I don't have a problem with them.:
       :They don't... they don't have an organisational structure. The wizards
keep destroying any semblance of organisation so now their structure is very
fluid and informal. It works though. We can approach them, if you would like?:
       :Won't Voldemort want them?:
       :Yes.:
       :Don't they already serve him?:
       :Not with Lucius' Rebellion.:
       :So why should I steal them?:
       :He will be okay without them, and we would like it better if they are
loyal to you personally.:
       :But...:
       :Master, will you always be subservient to him?: There was a hint of
challenge in their tone.
       :No,: Harry snapped back. :Approach the weres but let it be known that I
am asking for their loyalty personally.:
       :They will know.:
       A flicker of memory hit Harry and he frowned slightly. :So what of
Dragons?:
       The shadows were silent. :We have no power there. They belong to neither
Light nor Dark.:
       :Can they be controlled?:
       :They are controlled by the Fire Dragon.:
       :So seduce the Fire Dragon.:
       The shadows laughed but there was no mockery in their tone. In fact they
seemed happy at his quasi order and the implications that he was ready to
assume control of others. :We can't. They would not be attracted by any of our
advances.:
       :So the dragons will fall to the Light?:
       :That is not determined. They might, they might not. We can not approach
them though so if you want them, Master, you will have to seduce the Fire
Dragon.:
       :But I don't even know who it is!:
       :We know, and we will not tell you Master. Just act on your feelings,
both sets of feelings, and you will find yourself with a seduced Fire Dragon.:
       :Both sets of feelings?:
       :You have embraced the Dark, Master, by accepting us and the Dark Lord
but to fulfil your task you are going to have to become that which you were,
that which you perhaps should have been. Embrace those feelings as well, for
they are you, and they are not a betrayal of your Lover.:
       :I don't understand.:
       :You will, Master, you will.:
       Harry brought his attention back to the Aurors as they asked him where
the Dark Lord's base was, signalling that they were beginning on the harder
questions.
       "I don't know," he answered honestly. He really didn't know. He'd
apparated there but that had been instinctive. He truly did not know where
Voldemort's base was although he did know what they were planning. If they
could track down the Dark Lord, the Aurors would rally and attack now, in one
strike to decide it all. They might lose half the force sent against the Dark
Lord, but right not they knew they could win and such a sacrifice would be
acceptable.
       "I was unconscious," he added, perpetuating the story Dumbledore had
spread.
       "So you apparated by instinct?" One of the Aurors scoffed.
       "Instinct," Harry confirmed, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "And a
shit load of fear," he added. It earnt a snigger from some of the more astute
Aurors, most of whom had glared at their companion. "You can't imagine his
eyes," he continued with a shiver of delight that was mistaken for a shudder of
fear.
       Oh no, they couldn't imagine his eyes. Burning rubies, bloody crimson
serpentine eyes that they believed to be cold and dead but he knew otherwise.
He'd seen the sultry emotion, the soft love and had watched them cloud with
lust, the emotions so overwhelming that they seemed to leak out in raw motes of
power. He'd seen, he knew, he loved.
       No... I can't think like that. Not now, not here, he reminded himself.
       "Look, if I knew, do you think I'd be holding back? For me, the only way
I can get peace is when he's gone, otherwise this will go on and on.
Unfortunately though, to apparate, the way I did anyway, all you need to know
is where you want to go. And I wanted to return to Hogwarts, very badly. And
before you ask, Sirius has told me what happened with him dying and while I
don't doubt you Captain Sturges, Voldemort was very much alive when I saw him.
But I did not see any of his allies. I saw him, and only him, if you don't
count the serpents."
       "We understand, Harry," Captain Sturges smiled before his expression
became grim. "It's as we feared though. He has allies, more than we thought he
had, perhaps allies who are or have knowledge of the ancient power."
       "But how could they possibly..."
       "How, why, where..? I don't think they are questions we need the answers
for," Sturges forestalled the barrage of disbelieving questions, using his
authority as a field commander of many years standing. "What we need to be
concerned with is how we are going to stop them, or at the least neutralise
them, if we can't arrange something more permanent."
       The others nodded in agreement before Captain Sturges nodded towards
Harry, rising. "Thank you for your help, Mr Potter. If you remember anything
else, no matter how small, please tell us. Aurors will be stationed around
Hogwarts for what remains of semester and throughout the summer. Mr Black, a
reapplication will not be looked upon disfavorably," Sturges agreed as he
motioned the others out.
       Sirius smiled briefly returning the mans regard as the Aurors filed out,
already murmuring amongst themselves both the need to recruit and the need to
speak with the Department of Mysteries and their Unspeakables. There was the
hope, unspoken at the moment for it was too fragile to risk, that they would
know how to deal with the Dark Lord’s new allies.
       Once the Aurors filled out, Harry turned to Sirius, his emerald eyes
shimmering. He knew the shadows had already told his Godfather everything.
       "Harry?" He questioned, concerned at the sudden change in demeanour.
       "How do I do it?" Harry asked, clinging to him for support, relaxing
slightly at the warm comfort he could feel.
       "Carefully," Sirius answered. "Very carefully.... There is a trick
though. I'll teach you."
       "A trick?"
       "A trick. In Azkaban, not everyone and not everything is as it seems.
You couldn't afford to be human because the Dementors would have your memories
striped within a month. You had to become something else, you had to develop a
shield. It's a trick. I'll show it to you. You can hide your true self and let
them see only that which they want to see, that which they need to see."
       "You're using it now?"
       "Not now, I was though," Sirius smiled at Harry, stroking his back as he
shifted his mind about. "Look at me," he instructed softly as a few shadows
flickered around them.
       Harry looked up, his eyes focusing on his Godfather and he blinked. He
could almost see two Sirius', like an echo. There was the usual man, his magic
bright and strong, but disjointed to him, almost completely contained within
the other was another Sirius. This one wasn't as bright but the power was
different. This was the true Sirius, the controlling Sirius, but it was
protected completely by the other, and to anyone who didn't know what they were
looking at, this inner Sirius would simply be considered the soul imprint,
something only manifested by powerful wizards : an imprint of their power
within their power and it was speculated that this imprint was what allowed
truly powerful witches and wizards to cast multiple charms simultaneously. The
best most wizards could do was charms in rapid succession. Those with a soul
imprint could cast several charms at once.
       "It's brilliant."
       "It's a trick. You hide that bit of yourself that needs protection or
that can't be seen within the rest of yourself. It's still there, it still
controls but is hidden and where it's not in its best interests, it is
overridden by the protecting half."
       Harry nodded, and the shadows helped him with the initial shifts within
his mind. Once it was over he felt blanketed, as if he was looking out at the
world through layers of himself.
       Sirius looked at him, assessing the shield. "It's not fool proof," he
warned gently. "But it will help. However it will not help with the guilt. He
understands and if he does not blame you, you should not feel guilty."
       "I can't help it."
       "Harry, it's not betrayal! Rather it is the most efficient pursuit of
your combined goals. Although..."
       "Although?"
       "Are you sure about the perpetuation of Dumbledore's lie?"
       Harry nodded, grinning tightly. "Only Draco and his cronies know what
really happened here and when I go to breakfast tomorrow, do you think they are
going to refute a lie that protects them? Besides, it's not like they've got
any evidence of their actions."
       Sirius laughed. When you looked at it like that, Draco's position became
comical, for to convince anyone that Harry, or rather Xaos was responsible for
the Slytherin Student's deaths, he would have to reveal that he was responsible
for attacking Harry, and then his links with the Dark Lord's, or his Father's
forces would be revealed. Draco had done what had been asked of him, but his
efforts had been thwarted by a higher power. "Check and mate."
       "Just check," Harry disagreed. "I want him to squirm before the check:
mate."
       Sirius laughed. "Is Xaos safe?" He asked as the little basilisk was the
only one he was unsure of the shadows’ ability to control.
       "Xaos is more than safe." He grinned as his eyes flashed red for an
instant and he felt a tickle against his skin as the living tattoo shifted,
becoming faintly visible for a moment.
       "Ah," Harry could hear the smile in his Godfather's voice. "I see. Have
you cast a patronus lately?"
       "No, should I?"
       "No, I was just wondering if there were any effects. Transmutational
magic is of particular interest. I'm not saying anything has or should have
happened, I'm just interested in if anything has."
       "Not that I know of, although depending on the Initiation into the Order
of the Phoenix, that might change."
       Sirius shook his head. "It won't, although be prepared, it does delve
into you."
       :We will help.:
       Harry sighed. "I will be ready," he said firmly, already strengthening
his mental shields.
       He wasn't about to let this opportunity pass him by.
       He would be ready.
===
       :Shut up!: Harry snapped, glaring at a patch of shadow.
       :We haven't said anything!: His servants objected mildly, not bothering
to hide the mirth in their tone.
       :You don't need to, I heard you giggling.:
       :We would never..!:
       :You would! So shut up!: Harry growled, emerald eyes blazing as he paced
back and forth in the small room. Privately he could understand their laughter
and he would be more than happy when he could rid himself of the garments
Dumbledore had insisted were necessary for initiation into the Order of the
Phoenix.
       White velvet wrapped around him, the heavy folds whispering as the
fabric rubbed together with his motion. Beneath the heavy outer robe, silk slid
against his skin in a loose shirt and pants that had been tucked into soft deer
hide boots. The emblem of a phoenix had been embroidered with unicorn hair over
his heart on all the garments and gold thread traced out the pattern of fire
burning upwards from the hems at his feet and wrists.
       They were beautiful. Harry could not deny that. The workmanship on the
garments was exquisite even if it had been done with magic but it made him
feel... wrong... It was too pure and with everything that had happened he
didn't feel pure.
       For the moment he was alone. After dressing, one of the Order Members
had lead him to this plain room with no windows. Illumination was provided by
four candles set at the meridian points and he was meant to be mediating,
cleansing himself of the dark.
       :As if that would be possible...: the shadows laughed. :You cannot
cleanse yourself of something you do not possess.:
       :Hmm? Everyone is light and dark,: Harry questioned their statement.
       :Even you,: they agreed easily. :But you still cannot cleanse yourself
of something you do not possess. You do not possess us, Master, we possess you.
The darkness is us, the light is you.:
       Emerald eyes blinked before Harry nodded, understanding what they were
saying. He did possess darkness, no matter what they said, but they had chosen
to remove it from him.
       :Yes...: the shadows agreed with him, sensing his conclusions. :You are
the pure one,: they added, :for only purity can truly sustain us.:
       Harry cast a glance towards the door as the flickering shadows in the
room darkened and he felt his servants syphon some of his energy. The link
between them was always open, he knew that, be he could close it if he desired.
He could limit their consumption to the point where only the barest fraction of
his radiant energy would be available to them but he could see no point in
that... for the moment. He couldn't use his radiant energy, so why not give it
to someone who could, especially when those someone's were as helpful as the
shadows.
       :You'll make us blush!: They teased.
       :So what happens now?:
       :With the initiation?:
       Harry nodded.
       :A lot of mumbo:jumbo. Dumbledore gets to feel important. Fawkes gives
you his blessing and a mind link to the other Members. We make a ceremonial
appearance and then we imagine Fawkes and Xaos will fight it out.:
       "What?" He blurted. He got most of the explanation but the last bit
threw him.
       :Members of the Order are marked with a piece of Fawkes in much the same
way that Xaos marks you now and we don't think the two of them will get along.:
       Harry felt his heart go cold. How was he going to explain Xaos without
everything coming undone?
       -Master, do not be concerned,- the basilisk whispered to him, and Harry
felt the serpent's consciousness awaken within his own.
       -I will not lose you!- He berated the snake.
       -I have your backing?-
       -Yes, but in front of the Order, I cannot show my true loyalty.-
       -That is not necessary,- Xaos reassured him with the equivalent of a
serpentine laugh. -So long as I have your backing, I cannot be destroyed,
although Master, I must ask your forgiveness in advance, for in fighting the
phoenix it may be necessary for me to...-
       :Lie,: the shadows finished the sentence when they felt Xaos'
discomfort.
       Harry chuckled. He had forgotten how young his basilisk was. -I know you
will only protect me, Xaos,- he said comfortingly.
       -Thank you, Master. I will try to remain hidden but if the phoenix finds
me, I will try to bring all guilt to me.-
       -You will be safe though, won't you?- Harry pressed the point.
       -Yes. I will be weakened, but I cannot be destroyed not while some part
of you backs me.-
       :We will not let him be destroyed,: the shadows added their reassurance.
       "All right," Harry agreed reluctantly. He couldn't back out of the
ceremony now and even if he decided to feign a collapse due to exhaustion,
something that was possible in his current state, that would only postpone his
initiation. Dumbledore, on his brief visit to him in the infirmary, had made
that clear, in his annoyingly cheerful manner, which would have worked on him
if he had of been the child the ancient wizard still thought he was.
       That was one delusion he was going to take a great deal of pleasure in
dispelling when the time was right.
       He started slightly as the room lightened, and quickly schooled his face
into an imitation of peace, turning towards the door as it opened, artfully
blinking at the Order Member as if the opening of the door had disturbed his
cleansing trance.
       :Not a word, not a snigger, not a whisper!: He sent the warning to his
servants forcefully, somehow knowing that they were choking back laughter at
his 'transformation'.
       :Not a word,: they agreed, their presence faint, :but just wait until we
tell the Lord Voldemort!:
       :You won't dare!:
       The Order Member blinked at the sudden sense of menace but the sensation
was gone as quickly as it appeared as Harry brought himself back under control,
settling for mentally glaring at the shadows. "This way, Harry," the young lady
said kindly to the boy. Her robes he noted, were black, but the emblem of the
Phoenix and the flame patterning remained the same, all the more startling
against the darkness.
       "Thank you," Harry replied, reaching up and drawing his hood as he had
been instructed before he stepped through the door into the dark corridor. Xaos
brushed against his mind again, before retreating, burrowing deep within and
pulling barriers around his presence in an attempt to hide.
       The woman lead him down darkened corridors, her ash wood wand providing
the only light, before she stopped before a small door. With a gesture, she
indicated that he should enter the pitch black room. "This is the antechamber
in which the initiate waits until summoned. You will know when we need you,"
she said by way of explanation, closing the door behind him securely.
       Harry resisted the urge to snort. The mysticism might have impressed him
in the past, but he was over that and he wasn't afraid of the dark. The Order
had a long way to go if they thought they could save him from his own fears.
With a glance around at the dark which was not dark : not when you had true
darkness lighting your way : he took up a position of mediation, copying his
basilisk in rearranging his mind as Sirius had shown him. There were things
that could not be close to the surface.
       He was careful to show no reaction when he felt the tingle of magic as
the room became an oubliette. Did they think to scare him? Did they truly think
he would believe they would do this..? No, they needed him too much. He pushed
the thought down, trying to summon the stunned child who could not conceive a
Dark Lord's love. That was the person they were expecting.
       Emerald eyes opened and glazed slightly as he felt the persona wrap
around him. It was stifling, the freedom that was now denied and he felt,
almost with two minds, the shadows move to try to calm his now inner self. Only
reluctantly did he calm, settling to watch the world through his false self
with narrowed eyes and slowly Harry felt the cold chill of fear rise within
him.
       The Order was waiting. As he felt a cold sweat break out on him a tiny
flame appeared before him. He locked his eyes on it, feeling himself drawn into
its warmth, into the light and as he focused on it, his heart beat slowed and
the fear that had been rising ebbed.
       But then a new fear grew within him, as he looked around. He was alone.
He was always alone. He could see the cold stone walls now, their darkness was
gone, he was not afraid of them, but they were lonely and he had been alone for
so long. He didn't want to be alone again.
       Thick tears gathered in his eyes and deep within him, his true presence
smiled. This was the person they believed him to be so this was the person he
would be. Someone they could control, someone they could mould.
       Just before the tears spilt the oubliette wavered, the featureless stone
walls melted away to reveal an amphitheatre rising above him. It was lit with
soft warm yellows and was full of black robed witches and wizards : the members
of the Order. Most had their hoods raised but a few smiled comfortingly at him
as he gulped back the tears.
       Inwardly he hid a grin. They had wanted those reactions to trigger the
shifts in his perceptions so they had gotten those reactions but from now on,
he would not be weak.
       Harry looked over to the far side of the stage. Dumbledore, looking
every inch the powerful wizard that he was, was waiting for him, the contrast
between the black flame robes and his white hair and beard adding to his aura
of power. His blue eyes were twinkling, and his face was creased with a soft
smile of welcome. Once the ceremony was over, the Order would have their weapon
and the battle against the darkness could truly begin. Although he was no fool,
even with Harry's cooperation, they would need to tread carefully. There was no
such thing as a battle won before it was joined, all this meant was that their
chances were greatly improved and that they now had the tools necessary to win.
       And not just a temporary victory as the sacrifice of James and Lily had
given them. With Harry's co:operation this would be a definitive victory
against the Dark Lord.
       Fawkes was perched beside him on a large, pulsing white crystal. The
phoenix appeared asleep but he was merely preparing himself for the task ahead.
Even if nothing unusual had happened to Harry during his life this would be a
difficult induction, simply because of his amount of power. Add to it his youth
and strong will, and that guaranteed that the joining of his mind with the
Order would cause problems.
       Maybe not to Harry but those of lesser resolve would soon learn that
they could no longer be indecisive.
       As Harry stepped forward, Albus resisted the urge to narrow his eyes as
he assessed the young man before him. In a few short days, the boy had grown.
Physically he looked the same, if not a little thinner for his ordeal but
around him now there was a feeling. It was the aura of a wizard much older, a
feeling that came with time and experience, but the ancient wizard had to admit
that Harry had been through far more than most experienced in a lifetime but
even so, for him to radiant such confidence... It bore watching but Fawkes
would soon discover the truth.
       The Light would not be betrayed by its own weapon.
       Fawkes slowly opened luminous eyes, watching with an unblinking gaze as
the young man stood before him. It was traditional to kneel but the bird, like
the ancient wizard beside him, knew the emerald eyed boy would die before he
knelt to any man. And for one who was potentially the next Leader of the Order,
the open suspension of tradition would merely act to confirm his claim.
       But the bird could see more than the man, and he knew the reactions to
the induced fear of dark and loneliness had been feigned. That merely showed
though an impressive natural defence against magical influences and that Harry
had the level of power required to defeat the dark. He would not be like the
other, crippled by his own fear of the power that was his birthright.
       Fawkes trilled from deep within his chest the song of courage, of
welcome, of acceptance and was pleased to see the veiled looks of mistrust
vanish as his song forced the Order members to reassess the boy and see the
brilliant purity of light that shone from him, undulled by the darkness that
had tried throughout his life to sully it.
       He rose up, raising his crest and flaring his wings in a traditional
display. The crystal beneath his pinions pulsed, the pure white light becoming
flamed tinged, illuminating him to give the illusion of a true phoenix, rising
fully grown, magnificently plumed from the fires of his own death. His song
continued, and as Fawkes reached his full height, feathers ablaze, eyes burning
with their own fire, it reached a crescendo. He paused, allowing himself to be
beheld for an instant in full perfection before his snapped his wings back
around his body, and lowered his crest slightly, settling back down upon his
perch as the light returned to its steady white glow.
       Harry continued to gaze at him with flat eyes unimpressed by either the
display of power or his song.
       The complete lack of reaction brought a stir from the Order members but
Dumbledore acted quickly, moving to start the ceremony before anything more
than the occasional whispered word became audible from the hissed
conversations. The talk vanished but some of the dubious looks returned. With a
characteristic note of nonchalance he shrugged. It was not their decision who
was and was not inducted into the Order. Order members could nominate anyone
for induction but the final decision came down to the Phoenix and in some
measure the crystal he was perched on. So long as Fawkes determined that an
individual was worthy then nothing else could gainsay that decision. Albus was
wise enough to know that if the human members of the Order were the only
determiners of entry, it would not have survived.
       "Harry James Potter," he intoned in his rich voice, completely silencing
the last few whispers of conversation. "Son of the Order Members Lily Evans and
James Potter, you stand before the Order because you wish to add your power to
the same noble cause they followed."
       Inner Harry scowled and murmured 'You wish me to' but outwardly he
nodded gravely, his drawn hood keeping his face mostly in shadow, giving him a
stately grace as he replied. "I do."
       "Then let us see you fully, so that your worth might be known."
===
       Thin, pale hands reached up and Harry slowly pushed back his hood,
brushing unruly hair from his eyes in the same movement. He was careful not to
look around, knowing that already the unknowns in the room would be looking at
him with either awe or cold calculation. For the light, that calculation was
better hidden, but now that he knew what to look for, it was blatant.
       $Relax, child. Their judgement is of no consequence.$
       Since he had been warned, he wasn't surprised at the soft voice that
entered his thoughts and he recognised the gleam in Fawkes' eyes, identifying
him as the speaker.
       $You are wise beyond your years,$ the phoenix continued.
       $I have been known beyond my years,$ Harry responded with a small nod
towards the bird.
       $Your pain is my pain,$ Fawkes said softly. $Your pain is the Order's
Pain.$
       $Know pain and know power?$ Harry interrupted the ritualistic lines, not
liking at least some of their implications. His eyes narrowed dangerously as he
dared the bird or Dumbledore to answer. If they hadknown... He did not care how
long it would take, he would return to the one who knew him and none of these
would survive. Emerald fire threatened to engulf him.
       $We did not know, Harry,$ Dumbledore's voice came to him in an effort to
calm him. $We did not know until the day Voldemort took you.$
       Harry forced himself to calm, letting Fawkes smooth voice travel through
him in comforting waves as he looked back towards the fire bird, shutting out
the ancient wizard. What happened now was meant to be between him and Fawkes
only, he knew that instinctually. $I know pain, and I know power.$
       $But do you know love?$
       He smiled, closing his eyes, and the Order members were surprised.
Direct mental interaction with Fawkes was different for each of them. The
questions asked were never the same for any two people but seldom did they
cause the inductee to smile and Harry was smiling. A soft genuine smile that
seemed to make him light from within. A secret smile that had only been seen by
a few and was reserved for those alone he loved.
       $I know rage,$ Harry replied. $I know hate. I know pain. I know lust.
And I know love,$ he confirmed, as he opened his eyes to once again gaze into
Fawkes' fiery orbs.
       If Fawkes was surprised at the depths of feeling Harry was projecting to
him he did not show it. Instead he nodded before fixing fire red eyes on liquid
green and commanding. $If you know all then open your mind and know me.$
       Harry paused, :Are you ready?: He asked silently and received the mental
impression of a nod from Xaos. The basilisk was lurking deep within his mind,
woven about with shadows.
       $Come into my mind, and know me,$ Harry finally invited after taking a
deep breath to cover his pause. He lowered some of his defences but he wasn't
going to let the phoenix know he had full conscious control over them all. Let
the bird fight his way through.
       Most in the audience were pragmatic enough to breathe a sigh of relief
when they saw Fawkes initiate the full mind merge when illusionary flame
appeared around Harry. Now, any spell, any controls the Dark Lord might have
left in place on Harry, any influence he might have could be striped away,
leaving the boy theirs to mould. Soft gazes filled with sympathy pervaded the
room. It was not Harry's fault. Against such evil, he had shown remarkable
courage and resourcefulness but he was still a fledgling and could not protect
himself against the full range of evil the Lord Voldemort had at his disposal.
Only a Phoenix could do that.
       Harry felt his eyes become heavy as a warm presence filled him. He was
slightly surprised at how easily Fawkes had entered his mind until he felt the
slight tingle of reassurance. Magic held him upright even though he wanted to
lie down and sleep. The phoenixes presence was relaxing and he savoured what he
knew was going to become a rare sensation until he felt Xaos stir within him.
       The illusionary fire vanished as the shadow basilisk struck and the
watching Order members started as Harry arched back, emerald eyes opened wide
as he screamed silently in pain. Around his body, coiled tight and wreathed
with shadows, Xaos appeared, crest raised, fangs barred, ruby eyes burning with
power.
       :He belongs to me.: The words boomed through the minds of all present as
the basilisk locked gazes with Fawkes.
       The phoenix screamed but did not burst into his death flames. Dumbledore
hastily averted his vision but looked back as he realised the serpent was only
a projection. A solid magical protection but nothing more.
       :Don't be too sure old man.:
       "You are nothing but an illusion. Be gone!" Albus commanded with a sharp
flick of his wand.
       :Oh no,: Xaos' hissed, still projecting his thoughts. :I don't think so.
This one,: he added, wrapping his shadowy coils tighter around Harry, :belongs
to the King.:
       :He belongs to the Order and to himself,: Fawkes returned.
       :His life perhaps, but his death belongs to the King and I am here to
ensure that will be the case.:
       :But you will die as well.:
       :A small sacrifice for the glory of the King.:
       "So he commands his servants to die?"
       :No more than you do. My death will have purpose though, for I will be
accompanied by his greatest enemy.:
       "Why has he not yet killed Harry? If he implanted you, he could have
killed him."
       :Old man, your understanding is deficient. Simple death is far too easy.
The boy has suffered true, but the boy has not yet suffered for my Master. One
by one shall his friends be taken and broken. Slowly shall he lose all hope,
slowly shall my Master take all that he holds dear, until pain is all he knows
and death seems like a reward. And then my Master shall withhold that gift,
until this child is completely broken, until he screams, until he cries, until
he begs, until he calls my Master 'Master'. Only then will my Master consider
ending it. I am here to ensure that he survives that long, a gift as it were,
protection against himself and others who might grant him mercy.:
       :No, I will not allow that,: Fawkes answered.
       Xaos looked amused. :And what makes you think he's going to give you a
choice?:
       :I cannot stop Riddle's actions but I can stop you,: Fawkes returned.
       The basilisk looked back flatly. :Try it, bird,: he invited the
conflict, allowing his presence to fade slightly so that it looked like he was
entwined not just around Harry, but through him as well. :I am in his mind :
that little whisper of advice, guaranteeing survival. I am in his body : my
poison and my eyes can be his if life is the goal, and I am in his soul : for
only one who is a serpent my speak my tongue.:
       :I will drive you from his mind, and I will take you from his body, and
his soul has not been touched by you, you feel your Master though him and I
will close that link forever, so that the Dark Lord may not gain life from
him.:
       Fawkes said nothing more before he struck, his talons reaching out to
strike the basilisk. Harry screamed silently again and his body jerked but was
held in place by the coils surrounding him. Xaos retaliated, his tail coming
around to attempt to swat the phoenix and his jaws snapping at the fire bird. A
few feathers was all he caught.
       Xaos was careful to keep his eyes protected but as the motion of strike
and counter strike continued it became obvious, by the small cuts accumulating
on him that Fawkes had more experience. The phoenix was old, and had fought
many basilisk. He knew when and where to strike.
       :You cannot win against me,: the bird said eventually, rising to hover
out of Xaos' range. :You are alone, you have no support and your host is
against you. Leave him, and let it end quickly.:
       Xaos said nothing as he drew himself up, blinking his eyes to clear the
thin trickle of blood from them. Fawkes' talons had pierced his skin around
them and the blood stung as it mixed with liquid of his eyes. He tightened his
coils around Harry, the dry rasp of scale against scale loud in the silence.
The rest of the Order watched on silently as the ancient enmity played out.
Finally, the basilisk narrowed his eyes as he looked up at the phoenix, his
movements regally slow. :I have my orders,: he hissed. :And unlike the phoenix,
the basilisk do not betray their Lord!:
       He surged, mouth open at the phoenix and Harry couldn't hold back a cry.
Fawkes screamed his war song, his pinions glowing at there was a deafening
noise as the two met in a tangled spiral of feathers and scales. They traded
blows, Xaos' hissing as the glowing pinions broke his skin but the gentle rain
of feathers indicated that the damage was not all one sided. Harry felt his
true self wince with every injury Xaos had and he could feel his anger growing.
He wasn't sure how long he could stand this.
       :Master, it's okay,: his serpent reassured him silently. :I will end
this now though.:
       "Arhhh!"
       There was a scream of triumph and Fawkes struck quickly, swooping in to
drive Xaos down as the basilisk tried to cover himself.
       :Master!: Xaos screamed in as loud a mental voice as he could manage,
his tone anguished.
       :He cannot help you here,: Dumbledore responded coldly.
       Finally there was a thud as the serpent fell to the ground, still
partially coiled around and through Harry, but to the Order he was defeated.
Blood dripped to pool around his head before it vanished. The basilisk was only
a magical construct, left to protect Harry and once his energy was gone, he
could not maintain his existence.
       :I will not...: Xaos breathed deeply, around the blood pooling in his
throat. :betray... my master.:
       Fawkes said nothing as he swooped in for the final blow, his enhanced
pinions biting deeply into the softer tissue under Xaos' crest. The serpent
whimpered but then faded further.
       Dumbledore smiled before he reached forward to catch Harry as he fell.
"Now!" He commanded Fawkes, and before the serpent had faded entirely, the
phoenix shone, fire seeming to outline him completely.
       As if in benediction he touched his wing tips to Harry's temples, his
fiery red eyes catching liquid emeralds.
       $Harry, I welcome you into the Order and bid you to serve as your
parents did: loyally, strongly and with all their hearts. The Order has one
rule, little one, do what is right and follow your heart because if one cannot
be true to oneself, one cannot be true to the Light.$
       Harry nodded. And Fawkes drew back, still blazing. He landed back on the
crystal and as Harry wondered when he had moved towards it he understood what
the phoenix needed him to do now. He reached out slowly, laying both hands on
the burning crystal. The fire that surrounded Fawkes now surrounded Harry, and
the Order watched as the flames slowly seeped inwards, dying the white robes of
initiation black with the ash as the fire motif danced.
       :NO!: The denial came from the almost gone basilisk. Being a magical
construct, injured and damaged by Fawkes' attacks, the basilisk had lain,
dying, fading from existence while the ceremony proceeded, but now it surged
back towards its charge. Ruby eyes glowed and the remaining magic gathered
there, making them solid once again. :I will not fail!: Xaos hissed
determinedly as he slammed into Harry, disappearing entirely.
       Harry screamed, and those that were close enough could see the now
visible conflicting streams of magic vying for dominance. Fawkes' essence was a
blazing light, tangling with the shadowed darkness of the basilisk.
       Unconsciously several Order members shifted their grip on their wands,
ready to strike down their young initiate should the darkness triumph. They
didn't want to and they would remember Harry as a young man who was taken from
them too young, but they would not, could not allow the Order to be tainted.
This wasn't part of the ceremony but this initiation had been permanently
corrupted by the taint of the Dark Lord. A taint that could only be removed if
Fawkes arose triumphant from this final match, and that could only happen if
Harry fully embraced the light within himself. And that was a step that he
could, regretfully, be too young to achieve completely. But they were the
purifiers, they could not accept anything else. The Order could not.
       One by one they relaxed, looking at the newest Order member with
newfound respect, as the fire light that was Fawkes' energy won out over the
shadowy darkness of the basilisk.
       There was one last desperate scream from the serpent before the energy
disappeared. :No... I will not fail.: A flicker of a tail seemed to appear to
strike Harry but Fawkes intercepted it, dissipating the energy harmlessly.
       Harry fell to his knees, gasping as his personal energy was pulled in
waves first one way then the next. It was disconcerting and he cried out when
he felt Xaos vanish but then a burning seared his chest, and before he could
stop himself he was clawing at his cloths, trying to stop the pain.
       His robes parted and the Order saw the image of the phoenix, the proof
that Harry had in some way, like the rest of them, bonded with Fawkes. But
unlike the rest of them, the phoenix tattoo that was emblazoned on Harry's skin
was not in the colours of the fire bird. Harry's was inky : black, charcoal,
grey, the different tones worked together, defining every feather, talon and
claw beautifully. But it was wrong.
       Fawkes sung softly as wands were once more raised, and Dumbledore
stepped forward, placing his withered hand on Harry's shoulder. He stroked one
finger over the living tattoo as it faded completely before he looked around,
Fawkes coming to settle on his shoulder.
       "Harry has been touched by Darkness but he has not succumb to it but the
coloration is a reminder to us all that we must be vigilant. Now and forever
though, Fawkes has accepted him and so he is a full member of the Order. Like
the rest of us, Harry will fight against the Darkness." Dumbledore nodded
towards the rest of the Order as several of them stood to leave.
       The Initiation was done, and as dramatic as it had been, there was no
need to stay. If Fawkes vouched for Harry, then the darkness that was the
basilisk that the Dark Lord had left guarding his rival had been defeated and
there was no need for them to wait. A few others lingered but there was nothing
to see.
       Sirius came forward with Remus and gently took Harry from Dumbledore.
The boy had a soft smile on his face but seemed fine for the ordeal of his
initiation.
       "Sirius, I would like to see Harry tomorrow, after classes. There are
things that need to be discussed."
       He nodded. "I know, I told him as much. I think you can expect some
questions."
       Dumbledore smiled, "I would be disappointed with anything less. Please
take him to Madam Pomfrey. Fawkes has removed the basilisk but I'd like to be
sure that Tom hasn't left anything else."
       "We'll see to it," Remus responded as he escorted Sirius and his
precious bundle out of the room.
       Dumbledore let out a sigh as he looked around. The room was empty now.
He reached up and stroked Fawkes. The phoenix seemed to sigh before he nibbled
gently on the finger tips. "That was interesting," the old wizard said
conversationally.
       $More interesting than you know,$ Fawkes agreed.
       "Oh, was there something other than the basilisk?"
       $Not from the Dark Lord, although I cannot fully close the link between
them but what interests me is Harry himself.$
       "Is Harry blocking the link?"
       $As much as he can. I can help now, although that probably won't be
necessary since the link isn't that extensive.$
       "Good, so what is it with Harry himself?"
       $I asked him the usual. He knows rage, pain, hate and lust. He knows the
darkness and he knows light. He does not know fear, not in the way most people
do. You do know that he simulated the necessary reactions.$
       "I noticed, yes. His power doesn't easily allow him to fall prey to
magical illusions."
       $That's not a bad thing. What surprised me is that he knows love.$
       "Love?"
       $Love, and not just that of a parent to a child, or that of a boyfriend
to a girl friend. He knows the love one feels towards a life partner.$
       "Who?" Dumbledore was surprised. He had expected Harry to know love, but
more the immature love of one his age but Fawkes was indicating something
completely different, something that could change everything.
       $I could not find out. He is hiding that information. I'm guessing he
was hiding it from the basilisk as well, that on some level, Harry knew the
serpent was there but couldn't do anything about it but the information didn't
come to light. He's still hiding it.$
       Dumbledore nodded. That would make sense although now that Harry was
safe he expected they would know soon enough. "If it's one of the other
students, will it be a problem?"
       $No,$ Fawkes said easily. $For Harry to be able to love so deeply and so
young, they will be true to him as well, although we will have to see to their
protection. I will not have another betray me.$
       Albus closed his eyes briefly before he turned and walked from the room.
This was an unexpected twist, but it was nothing they couldn't handle, not now
that Harry was under their control.
       "Tom... The Light does not bow to the Dark. You will know that soon."
 
 
***** End of the Year *****
Chapter Notes
     Text Key
     -blah- Parseltongue
     :blah: Silent speech with Shadows
Weapon
Chapter 3 End of the Year
===
       Ginny opened her eyes before she sighed. She was in the medical wing of
Hogwarts although this should be her last night here.
       Unlike the others she knew Harry was back. The bond, one sided though it
might be was effective enough for that. She also knew that her memories were
false but if that was what Harry wanted then she would act as if they were
real.
       While the link she shared with him was blocked from his end she could
determine some few things. Something had changed, something in him. She didn't
know what but she knew it was something important. Unfortunately though she
wasn't sure what, if anything there was she could do about it.
       "I still mean it Harry. It doesn't matter if you hate me, it doesn't
matter if you don't want me around, I still meant it. I will die for you Harry.
The same way as I will kill, live and love you, no matter what..." She
whispered the words, dashing the tears from her eyes.
       He would have to speak with her soon.
       She hoped.
       "I love you."
===
       Voldemort sat quietly as several Death Eaters reported to him. He knew
how his forces had pulled up after the battle but some of the specifics were
only now coming to light and as much as he enjoyed his amusements with
Bulstrode and Zabini it was time to get back to work. Especially if he wanted
to see Harry in his bed again anytime soon. The Shadows had been clear on that.
       He allowed himself a small smile. It would appear that when it came to a
particular green-eyed Gryffindor that he had somewhat of a one-track mind.
       "So how are the Eastern European forces doing?"
       "With the Ministries there also fighting the Vampires, they are still
holding their own but, my Lord, that probably won't last. Xeoaph will most
likely call in the alliances and they will begin targeting your forces soon."
       "Ah," he sighed. It was to be expected. He would have to start gathering
supporters quickly to reinforce his position or he risked losing further
ground. "Tell them to hold out as long as they can," he instructed, "But for
now everyone is to remain in hiding, until the first target is decided upon. I
only need one thing done immediately."
       "My Lord?"
       "As much as I despise that insipid paper, if I cannot destroy them it is
time they began working for me. I think it's time I granted an exclusive
interview."
       The Death Eater's eyes widened but they were wise enough to say nothing
passed their confirmation of his orders. "It will be done, my Lord."
       "Good."
       The red masked Death Eater bowed and vanished.
       "As for you werewolf," the Dark Lord looked into the shadows where
another being waited, "I need you to get in contact with your leaders. Let them
know that I'm more than willing to discuss terms with them."
       "We'll see," the were growled before leaving.
       "We will indeed," Voldemort said after the creature had left. "Nagini!"
       -Yes.-
       -Are they gathered?-
       -Yes, although you should speak with them.-
       The Dark Lord rose, his red eyes burning as he stepped forward. He
hissed softly and his skin began to discolour, scales appearing. With a
sibilant hiss he shed his human form as he became the true Serpent Lord.
       Split snake eyes looked down at Nagini before he lowered himself
completely to his now serpentine belly. -I will speak with them,- he hissed
easily, his inflections to those who knew what to listen for now far more
arrogant and assured. In this form, the serpents could not deny him.
===
       Harry sat at the table. Sirius had brought him down early and was now
sitting under the table on his feet as Snuffles. It was actually very nice to
have his own personal foot warmer and in the event that anyone tried anything
stupid, they would be doubly foolish to do it in the presence of his Godfather.
He hadn't missed the small signs of frustration in Sirius' human form. The man
was looking for a way to prove that he could protect him.
       It was going to be an interesting morning. Most of the school didn't
know he was back and he was looking forward to their reactions when they walked
in for breakfast. Then once that was settled, he was going to enjoy Blaise and
Millicent's distress although he had been careful to keep that anticipation
from the Phoenix he could now feel. That wouldn't be for a few days yet... but
he was enjoying the anticipation. It should put them into a fine dither so
close to their OWLs, and not to mention their summer plans. He didn't really
know what happened to orphaned wizard children but... He suppressed a tight
grin.
       The initiation into the Order had gone as well as could be expected, he
supposed. He couldn't feel Xaos but wasn't overly worried. The Shadows had
assured him that the serpent was unharmed. Besides if he could feel him, there
was the chance that the phoenix could feel him as well.
       It wasn't so much that the phoenix was within him, not like the way the
Dark Lord or Xaos were, it was that there was a small presence there. It wasn't
an active link but it was something he knew was recording things and when
Fawkes wanted he could access it. So for the moment his true self was trapped.
He only hoped that the resentment he couldn't hide would be taken as nothing
more than usual teenage frustrations.
       He'd be able to judge better how much this was going to affect things
after he had that talk with Dumbledore tonight.
       Harry resisted the urge to sigh... He had to talk with Dumbledore. He
wasn't looking forward to it but it was necessary. He also had to speak with
Ginny. The bond the girl had formed was still there and they needed to deal
with that. He some idea but he didn't know what she wanted to do. He hoped
she'd be mature about it. And he had to find some time to speak with Remus. If
the Shadows were talking with the werewolves then he wanted to know more about
them. When he considered what he knew, then he came to the conclusion that he
really didn't know much. Oh, he knew the facts but the facts were so sterile.
He wanted to know something more personal.
       Then depending on how everything went he really needed to speak with
Sirius because he needed his Godfather to do some specific things. And then he
really should try to find a serpent so that he could communicate with his
beloved. They shared a bond but it was not something they could use. Not with
the Phoenix.
       Although... he frowned... Would it be possible to seduce Fawkes?
       :No,: the Shadows whispered but offered no further explanation.
       Harry sighed softly. He should have expected that. So for the moment,
the last person he needed to speak with was Draco. He'd so hate for the boy to
think that his efforts had not received anyone's attention. It would be fun to
watch the blond squirm.
       There was so much for him to do.
       There was a stir at the door. Ravenclaws, Harry identified them by their
house colour. They were surprised but no so surprised that they cried out or
did anything stupid. Some of the older one's blinked before shrugging, pushing
their younger housemates towards the table. There was more going on here than
they knew but they were smart enough to know that they weren't going to get an
explanation now or by standing in the door.
       He suppressed a smile. It was almost like a Hufflepuff. Speaking of
which... a few of them had just trailed in, looking at him curiously. He nodded
to a Fifth Year as they passed. Sigh... a few more Ravenclaw's, one or two
younger Gryffindor's who smiled widely at him before moving further along the
table and finally... the first Slytherin's.
       Not Draco... Older one's who'd probably been there. He resisted the urge
to grin toothily at them although he felt the low growl from Sirius echoing
through his feet. It was message enough, he reflected snaking one hand under
the table to stroke his Godfathers ears.
       "Harry!" There was an ear-piercing squeal and he suddenly found his
breathing restricted as a fluffy brown mass latched on to him. It was followed
quickly by what seemed never ending waves of red.
       "Hermione," Harry laughed, returning her embrace before he looked up at
the male Weasley's who had gathered around him.
       "You're all right, you're all right, you're all right!" The girl
repeated the whisper.
       "Yes, I'm fine," he responded to her, pushing her back slightly, using
the corner of his sleeve to wipe at her eyes. "I've been back for a day or so
now."
       Blue eyes hardened. "Does Ginny know?"
       "Yes." He could answer that one truthfully. He might have closed the
bond she had initiated but she could tell that much. "Sorry I couldn't tell you
sooner," he added, knowing that they'd want an explanation. "But Dumbledore
felt it best that at least for a day or so, no one knew. Sorry I worried you."
       "It doesn't matter," Hermione sobbed. "Just so long as you're okay."
       "I'm fine," Harry repeated. "I really don't know why he bothered this
time. He was so busy co-ordinating that strike that I barely saw him and the
first time I'm in his presence for any length of time, the pains too much and I
instinctively apparated back!" He grinned.
       That was the story Dumbledore had settled on the other day. Of course,
with his Initiation into the Order, there was a new layer now, that the Dark
Lord had kidnapped him to place the serpent Xaos within him, thus gaining a
valuable spy within the ranks of Light. The Order of course had saved the day
by saving him from himself.
       "Thank goodness!"
       "You'll have to tell us everything later mate," Ron said, placing his
hand on Harry's shoulder before he sat down. In a lower tone of voice he
whispered, "You'd better see Ginny. Don't do this again, or I'll kill you. We
were worried."
       Harry looked over at him, green eyes reflecting his thanks. "I'll talk
to her," he promised as quietly serious as his friend had been, "and I'll try.
Now let's eat!" He finished loudly enough to be heard by the others surrounding
him.
       He sighed as he filled his plate with sausages. It was good that they
were concerned but in the distraction caused by the entry of his friends he'd
missed Draco and companions reaction his presence.
       :We'll show you later.:
       :You'd better.:
       Right now the blond looked tense but only if you knew what to look for.
He'd obviously had time to get used to the story of Harry's abduction and had
come to the conclusion that eventually he would be back. Although the reality
of the situation was probably troubling him greatly, he'd seen Harry's body. He
knew he had not failed.
       Grey eyes meet emerald for a moment and the promise to talk was
exchanged. Heh, he could hardly wait.
       Breakfast was a subdued affair and Harry could tell from the buzz around
him that most of the students were just bursting to ask him where he had been
and what it had been like. He could hear the whispered speculation but kept his
face neutral. Although, you could tell everyone was expecting an announcement
because no one wandered off after eating to get ready for their first classes.
       Eventually Dumbledore decided to notice the air of anticipation and he
rose. He chuckled slightly at the speed with which the murmurs disappeared as
he became the centre of attention.
       "Never let it be said that a body of students cannot be quiet," he
started with an undertone of amusement as his blue eyes twinkled. "Try to hold
on to this quiet for your classes today."
       Snape rolled his eyes at the advice. He wasn't that lucky.
       "As I'm sure all of you have noticed, Mr Potter is back amongst the
student body, thanks to the combined efforts of the Order of the Phoenix and
the Aurors."
       There was a polite smattering of applause.
       "As I'm sure you have also noticed Auror troops are positioned around
the school to prevent this from happening again. This time it was courageous
young Harry, next time... well, there will not be a next time," the
Headmaster's eyes were hard. "As a community we must work together from now on
and through the efforts of us all we will find that our differences aren't so
great. Ah... but now is not the time for speeches as you all have classes to
attend and for the fifth and seventh years, last minute study revision, I'm
sure. For the moment though, I would ask that you refrain from asking Mr Potter
about his ordeal as he is already working with Auror's to locate the Dark Lord.
       "Now... to class." The ancient wizard brought his hands together in a
loud clap as he sat back down. It was a clear dismissal and most students after
looking at him for a few more moments, shrugged and turned to leave.
       "Come on, Harry, you've got a tonne of revision!" Hermione pulled
lightly on Harry's sleeve.
       He smiled up at her. "Actually I don't," he said softly. "I wasn't going
to tell you, but because of what happened, the Auror's asked the Ministry if I
could take my OWL's over the summer since they want me to help them now."
       "But, but... that means..." Hermione seemed flabbergasted.
       "I know."
       "You lucky devil!" Ron moaned. "That means I'm all alone!"
       "Oh, poor Ronniekin's is all alone," Fred and George cowled!
       "Come on then Ron," Hermione said briskly after she'd finished
processing this new information. "We've got to study! I'll give you my notes
from the classes you missed later then Harry."
       "Aw, geez," Ron groaned as he got up. "Do you think I could get the
goblins to kidnap me?"
       "Nah," Fred shook his head, laughing as Hermione dragged his baby
brother out of the hall, "You don't want that."
       "You couldn't afford the repayments!" George added as his brother
disappeared.
       The twins sat down opposite Harry, effectively isolating him from the
rest of the school as they moved towards their class rooms. "Shouldn't you be
going to class?" Harry asked softly.
       "We will, we will."
       "We just had to check that our financier is in tip-top condition."
       "Thank you."
       "Nothing to it, mate, nothing to it."
       "Just go see our sister."
       "We mean it."
       "Or she'll make your life not worth living."
       "Believe us, we know."
===
       Harry looked up at the High table once the Hall was cleared. Since it
was only revision this morning for fifth and seventh years he didn't have to be
anywhere. Most of the teachers had left since they had classes for the sixth
years and other lower levels. Dumbledore was watching him carefully but the old
man seemed happy enough. He nodded towards him as he rose.
       "I think I'll visit Ginny, sir," he said.
       "I think that would be a good idea," Dumbledore agreed. "I've been
meaning to speak with Miss Weasley myself, so perhaps you can put her at ease
for me. I will speak with you later though, after dinner perhaps?"
       "I'm looking forward to it."
       Harry ruffled Sirius' ears at the toothy grin the large black dog gave
him. He'd figured out that his Godfather spent so much time in his animagus
form because it was easier to hide his true mind that way. He unfortunately
didn't have that option and so was left with a slight feeling of lethargy from
the continued strain of trying to keep his true self hidden all the time.
       He was getting better, and he would continue get better at it, he knew.
But during this early stage it was frustrating. He just hoped that he could
pass off any early mistakes as a side effect of being kidnapped by the Dark
Lord.
       This time of the morning the corridors were empty but even though he
couldn't see them, he knew the shadows were skittering around him, checking
everything, and Sirius was sniffing the air almost continuously, his canine
nose far more sensitive than his eyes.
       Harry paused as Mrs Norris jumped down in front of him, hissing, her
ragged coat matted. She spat at him and he could see that her claws were
unsheathed. He just stared back, green meeting green as Sirius growled, his
coat bristling. It took no more than a moment and after it was over Harry
smiled slightly. She'd flinched. The threat inherent in his eyes and in the
charcoal eyes of his Godfather had been too much and her animal instincts had
collapsed and by her actions she had declared him her superior. For a cat, she
had fought well, far better than her master.
       "Don't get in my way," he whispered to her, reaching down to stroke her
head before he tugged lightly on the tuft of her ear. "Don't ever get in my
way."
       Mrs Norris yowled and ran off. She was only a cat, true, but she knew
Hogwarts inside and out and while her master was no more than a petty
inconvenience, a petty inconvenience at the wrong time could spell disaster.
Better to find alternatives for such nuisances early.
       Or course out of the two females he had to deal with today, the cat was
relatively easy. As he stepped into the Infirmary he couldn't help but shake
his head. He really didn't know what exactly to do about Ginny but all things
considered he knew he had no choice but to be honest with her. She had been
honest with him, perhaps that was the problem, she had been too honest.
       "Harry!" Madam Promfrey greeted him brightly. "It's good to see you."
       He smiled towards the nurse. She had done so much for him and she didn't
even recognise it, for her it was nothing more than her job but to him it had
been priceless. She had earnt his regard many times over and he knew, at the
very least, she had earnt his beloved's mercy if that was her choice. "It's
good to be here when I'm not a patient," he said easily.
       "So who are you here to see?"
       "Ginny, if she's awake."
       Madam Promfrey laughed, a short giggle of amusement. "The poor dear will
be ecstatic to see you, but try to keep her calm, understand?"
       "I will," he promised as the nurse pointed him towards the right
cubicle.
       Harry paused before he went in, gathering himself. With what she had
done, this was not going to be easy. There was definitely a part of him that
could have loved her had things been different. He sighed, it almost didn't
seem fair.
       No... it just wasn't fair.
       But he had dealt with that. Life wasn't fair.
       Ginny was reading and she hadn't heard him. He smiled again slightly.
The sunlight shimmered off her hair making the usual firy read tresses look
like they were mixed the molten gold. She was still a child, her body was only
beginning to develop but she was going to be an extra-ordinarily beautiful
woman.
       "Ginny?" He murmured softly.
       She gasped, looking up, sapphire blue eyes locked on to him with an
almost panicked look. Her mouth moved but no sound came out.
       He smiled gently. "It's okay, it's okay," he said as he walked further
into her small cubicle to sit on the bed.
       Tears welled up in her eyes. "You're okay," she finally whispered,
reaching up to wipe the tears away.
       Harry nodded, making shushing sounds, reaching out to take her hand.
"Just relax," he said easily as Sirius curled up at his feet.
       "I'm so happy! You're okay, you're okay." Ginny lunged forward, wrapping
her arms around him as she sobbed into his chest.
       "It's okay," he repeated, trying to sooth her. He didn't exactly have a
plan for this conversation but this was not during anything that he had thought
about. He wasn't sure he liked her crying. There was something vaguely
disquietening.
       Ginny sniffed as she looked up at him, her eyes becoming hard, "Don't
ever do that again!" She demanded. "Not ever."
       "I don't plan on."
       "Harry, I mean it. Don't ever do that again. I meant what I have said to
you, what I vowed to you. I will die for you, Harry. I will die for you Harry.
At any time, I will transfer my life energy to you and die happy."
       "Shush," he murmured, looking around. "Not yet," he added, whispering in
her ear as he returned her embrace as a cover for the charm he was about to
perform.
       "Silencias," he whispered, focusing his power on the wand that lay along
his forearm. The charm took and radiated outwards and Harry allowed his eyes to
change for an instant to see that it had only extended as far as Ginny's
partition. He pulled back from the embrace with a small satisfied smile.
       The youngest Weasley looked down at her hands. She'd sensed the charm
and on one level was grateful that Harry was so discrete but on another she
wanted everyone to know in the hope that it would strengthen her ties to him.
But she knew that wasn't the way. "You..." she began softly again, unsure
exactly how to begin.
       A year or so ago, she'd drawn up a list of people who could possibly be
rivals for Harry's attention. Hermione had featured prominently as had Cho
Chang, and almost every other female in Hogwarts, including the Slytherin's
because she knew Harry could see beyond the petty rivalries of the Houses.
She'd even gone so far as to include a space for an unknown Muggle Girl. She
had considered the possibility of a male rival but that had been removed when
she had considered Harry's obvious attraction to Cho. The possibility had been
further reduced by the irrevocable fact that another man, no matter how
magical, simply could not give Harry children, children he would need as the
sole remaining Potter.
       And then, she'd systematically gone through the list and determined ways
of... well, eliminating them sounded so wrong, but methods of illustrating to
Harry as to why she was better, why she loved him more. In the end, she'd
managed to remove, at least in her mind, everyone except the unknown Muggle and
Hermione, but Hermione had eliminated herself when she'd stayed with them that
summer. The affection between Ron and her had been obvious and Ginny had been
ecstatic, not just because they would be happy together, but because it meant
that the competition had again been reduced and she really wasn't sure how
she'd have been able to compete with the older witch. Hermione might be Muggle-
born but she was just good at everything - Ginny had been honest enough to
admit that. With Miss Granger out of the way, that just left a Muggle Girl, and
while it was a big unknown, Ginny had been sure she could compete.
       She had never once thought, never once dreamed that she would be in
competition with Him. Even if her long shot possibility of Harry liking men had
been true, there should have been no way for it to be Him.
       "You... you love him, don't you?" She finally choked the question out.
       In all her considerations, in all her planning there was one thing she
knew she couldn't plan around, couldn't anticipate, couldn't control and it
seemed as if she had been beaten by that one variable. The most important
variable - Harry's heart.
       Harry looked at her through emerald eyes that seemed to shimmer with
content. "I do," he said with a soft smile.
       Ginny felt the sting of tears in her eyes despite her efforts to keep
them at bay. She'd known he loved him, she'd known for weeks now... so she
shouldn't be crying over it. "So there is no hope?" She knew, but she couldn't
help but ask.
       Emerald eyes looked confused for an instant and Harry felt an odd shift
within himself as he saw Ginny's tears. "I will always love him," he said, some
part unable to outright crush the tiny nub of hope she still had to feel to ask
such a question.
       Ginny was silent, one hand reaching out to wipe the tears that had
gathered in her eyes. She looked at him, blinking blue eyes carefully as she
fought to remain in control. "I will always love you," she said softly, unable
to deny the truth. It didn't matter what Harry felt, what Harry did. For her,
that was the truth.
       "I know," Harry said sadly. "I know, that's why I'm here. I want us to
start again."
       Despite her pain, Ginny's eyes narrowed as she considered this. "What do
you mean?"
       "I love him Ginny. I will love him for all time but this half bond, no
matter how much you might protest otherwise, is not fair on you. I want us to
start again."
       "How?"
       Harry winced at the note of suspicion in her voice. But it didn't
matter, he was going to do this, one way or another. The half bond was not fair
on her, but it was also a security risk for him, one he could not afford, not
with the battles that would come.
       "I will break the bond," he said smoothly, logically. "And we will
proceed from there."
       "No!"
       "Ginny, please don't make me force you."
       "No, I don't want to lose even that. I meant it Harry. I will die for
you, but if you take that away..."
       "I... we... we can keep part of it," he said quietly. "But I will have
to break most of it. I want us to be equal Ginny, and we can't do that while
you are tied, servant like to me. And I can't complete the bond with you,
because I love him. If we do this now, Ginny, one day we can reform another
bond... together." Harry felt the tug on his consciousness again and he
suddenly found himself face to face with blazing emerald eyes.
       "What are you doing?" His voice hissed at him.
       "What are you doing?" he returned the question, shouting at his true
self. "What's she going to think when I zone out for a while, for no good
reason? What is Madam Promfrey going to think?"
       "Time is meaningless here. It will be less than a second. Now what are
you doing?! You exist to protect me, not tie me down to some wrench!"
       "I am protecting you!"
       "You are also protecting yourself, something you shouldn't need. You are
me!"
       "No, I'm not," Normally wide emerald eyes narrowed as they looked at the
other. "You are the me who is but I am the me who was meant to be."
       "But you are not! I am me."
       "I know. I am nothing more than a possibility that has now fallen to the
wayside. But you have given me form, and you have given me strength and
definition, and I am no longer a vague possibility. You are stronger, yes, and
you could crush me but then I couldn't protect you." That wasn't anything his
true self didn't know. What he had created, he could destroy but creation had
been for protection, and the destruction of such protection was not in his true
self's interest. That was something his true self also knew. "Do not worry. You
are me and I am you, we are different facets of the other. I will protect you
because that is the only way I can protect myself. And I will protect you
without question, without hesitation but in order for me to protect you, to
protect us, I am going to have to live."
       "Why her?"
       "She is powerful, she does love me, and more importantly, she will not
betray us. Who else would you have me choose?"
       "No one! We already have a mate."
       "I am the me who was meant to be! I was never meant to have that mate. I
love him though, even as you do but I am also attracted to others, other's
perhaps that I should have loved."
       His true self looked back at him through narrowed eyes, calculating the
implications as tiny motes of power flickered through his fingers. In his mind,
anything was possible. At the moment, this division in self was necessary, but
he did not have to like it. When he thought of his lover he wanted to think of
ruby eyes, black hair and a commanding presence within him, he didn't want to
think of blue eyes, red hair and a fragility he'd be afraid of shattering on
the first thrust.
       "If you truly do not like her, I will pick another, rather than be
forced. But I doubt another will be as loyal."
       "I would rather you pick no one."
       "We don't have that choice."
       "But if you love her..."
       "Yes, then you will love her..."
       "She will always be second to me."
       "He will always be second to me."
       His true self began pacing, obviously angry with the choices he had but
equally knowing that there was no other option. "All right," he finally growled
coming to a halt as the energy faded. "But only her."
       "Only her as a lover. The others will be as you do."
       "As I do," his true self sniggered. "Better be careful," he added the
warning.
       "I will," Harry responded as he was released to look back at Ginny. In
the instant it had taken him to come to the agreement with himself she hadn't
moved although there was a look of consideration on her face.
       "Harry," she gulped finally, once again pushing back tears, "all right,"
she gave her quiet agreement. "I promised I would love you and that means I
will do anything to see you happy, no matter what the cost to me. But" her
voice became firm, "you will not remove my vow and the means to die for you
because if it ever comes to it, I will give my life energy for you and consider
the cost small. My other vows, while true, can still be carried out without the
bond."
       Harry looked at her closed, emerald eyes half hooded. This was important
to her, no matter how much he might wish otherwise, she was not going to settle
for anything less. "I can accommodate that, but I want you to always remember,
I would much rather you live for me, than die."
       She smiled, somewhat wanly. "I would much rather live as well."
       "Good," he said. "Ginny... I cannot say that I love you, because I don't
or rather I do, but in the same way as I love Ron and Hermione, as my friends
but... the possibility exists for me to love you as something more. That's why
I want us to do this, so that that possibility can develop, unhindered by the
past. I will never love you the way I love him, because you aren't him but I
believe I will come to love you as you."
       "Equal to him?"
       "Maybe, but he will always be my first love. I can't change that."
       Ginny smiled. It was not sad and Harry frowned slightly. "You know
Harry," she said, "There is one thing I worked out when it came to you. While I
would have been happy to be your first love, I'm honest enough to admit, I
don't care what number I am, so long as I know I am loved. That is more
important to me and you are giving me that chance."
       Green eyes looked distant for a moment. "It is all I can give you," he
murmured. "But it will not be as easy as you think."
       "I know," she said. "I know and I have known for a while that to love
you was to be a target but I accepted that Harry. Just as I will always accept
you, no matter what happens. Even if in the end, everyone turns from you, for
what you will do, I will still be there, Harry. I will always be there."
       Harry nodded, slightly shaky at the strength of her conviction as he
reached out to hug her again. He would always have his Beloved, and that would
be enough but in the end it was nice to know that he'd have at least one other
who would still accept him. "I will break it tonight," he said to her,
retracting his silencing charm. "And tomorrow, we can begin again."
       There was a flash of sadness from her but she nodded bravely. Just give
me a chance, Harry, she thought. I will make it enough.
===
       Sirius paced back and forth in his chambers. Harry was currently
closeted with Dumbledore and he'd left the two of them alone so that neither of
them would feel hindered by his presence. Harry could ask whatever he wanted
and he fully expected that there were things the Headmaster only wanted to
reveal to Harry.
       He wasn't overly worried. His Godson had gotten through the Initiation
without revealing himself, a simple conversation should be easy.
       No, he was more worried about the Dark Lord himself...
       Harry was so sure.
       That was the problem.
       Sirius could see it in his eyes, well hidden but there, the soft open
love for the man, the quiet acceptance of everything the serpent represented.
       He was slightly bothered by the intensity of the feeling but what
bothered him more was the unknown. Harry assured him that the Dark Lord... Heh!
Some Godfather I am, I can't even think his name... that the Dark Lord
Voldemort returned his feelings. Now I can't even think the word. The shadows
had assured him of the Dark Lord's love but he had yet to see it for himself.
       That's what was bothering him.
       Of all the things he knew should have been bothering him about the
situation - like the entire situation itself - it was the fact that he had yet
to see Voldemort demonstrate his affection towards his Godchild that was
bothering him the most.
       The torture of the Muggles who had hurt Harry came close, but that could
be passed off as the desire for revenge and was... well... it was impersonal,
it was something he would have done himself if he hadn't already been beaten to
the Muggles.
       No, he wanted to see something only the Dark Lord could do, something
only the Serpent Lord could do to prove that he loved Harry, something
personal... But he wasn't sure what.
       He wanted to talk to someone about it, darn it, but he knew he couldn't.
There was no one who would understand his concerns because there was no one who
would entertain the possibility of Harry and the Dark Lord being anything other
than enemies. Truth be told, he wasn't sure he was ready for that
possibility... And if anyone ever did know...
       That would be a disaster all in itself.
       He sighed again. If Harry was so sure then there wasn't much he could do
about it besides stay by his Godson's side. If he stayed there long enough, and
he intended to stay there forever in an effort to make up for his past lack of
attention, he would get his proof.
       :In time, the whole world will have your proof.:
       Heh! Sirius grinned as he recognised the voice. If that's what it
takes... He shrugged as he felt the chill of the shadows against his skin and
was comforted.
       If that's what it took then that's what it took and he would abide by
Harry's choice.
       But if Voldemort hurt him... He would sacrifice whatever it took, give
the shadows everything if that's what they needed.
       :He will answer to us!:
===
       Draco gnawed on one nail as he looked down at the transfiguration square
before him. His family had connections so he was not concerned about his
results from the upcoming OWLs, but as the heir to the Malfoy line he still had
to know things, and had to be proficient in magic, so as annoying as it was, he
did study. It was his responsibility especially now that his Father was
occupied. He would have to fend for himself, for a while, but it was nothing
the Heir of the Dark Lord couldn't manage.
       But right at the moment he couldn't focus his attention on the archaic
words. The sight that had greeted him at breakfast just would not leave his
head - the Gryffindork, Harry Potter sitting happily at the table surrounded by
the pathetic Weasels and the Mudblood. With a small sigh he pushed the
parchment away.
       When Dumbledore had relayed information of Potter's kidnapping not
death, he'd known something was wrong, that the Headmaster was trying some
scheme although why the ancient wizard would be doing that was questionable.
       Still he admitted to a small start of surprise this morning because he,
Draco Malfoy knew what he was seeing just wasn't possible.
       The Gryffindork was dead.
       :Of course he is.:
       He'd felt the shock of impact from the force of the curse himself. He
knew the chill in his soul, the absolute feeling of power that came from the
success of the Avada Kedrava curse. He knew that Potter was dead.
       :You killed him yourself.:
       Exactly!
       :So how could he be there at breakfast?:
       That was the question.
       What was Dumbledore playing at that he would even use the image of the
de...?
       Draco suppressed a chuckle. That was it.
       Potter was dead. He knew that but the whole point to killing the
Gryffindork had been to eliminate the possibility of hope for the masses and
Dumbledore was crafty enough to know that and he was sly enough that he wasn't
going to allow it without a fight. Hadn't his father constantly complained
about the ruthlessness of the Headmaster and why no one would see it for what
it was?
       Ruthlessness in a Gryffindor, it seemed, was viewed as single-minded
determination to reach a goal.
       Ruthlessness in a Slytherin was viewed as proof of their ability to
betray anything, evidence of their sly, cold natures.
       But in this case it was the Headmaster who was reflecting the
Slytherins.
       If the wizarding world was to lose hope now, there would be no stopping
the Dark Lord and while Dumbledore was old, he was not senile. For the moment
the Ministry couldn't afford Harry to die, so they simply weren't going to let
him, hence the story about the kidnapping. What did it matter if he was dead,
so long as no one believed it?
       But since Harry couldn't be kidnapped forever, Dumbledore had to do
something... It's been about a week or so... Draco considered. Not enough time
for any normal wizard to brew a Poly Juice potion but it would probably be
enough time, barely for a Potion Master... And Severus was looking rather
tired.
       Draco smiled. Yes. That made sense. It more than made sense no matter
which way he looked at it.
       :What about the Dog?:
       Wait... that was true. The Dog just wouldn't allow his Godson's image to
be used in such a manner...
       On the other hand, the man was a member of the Order of the Phoenix. If
Dumbledore had planned this, then he wouldn't have a choice. In fact, he
probably was the one masquerading as Harry... It would be easy enough to find a
real dog to act as him in his animagus form. That was about the only thing that
made sense to him...
       The younger Malfoy leaned back in his chair, absently brushing the tip
of his quill over his lips as he once more reviewed the facts. Or what he
thought were the facts.
       The Gryffindork was dead.
       The Light couldn't afford to have Potter die therefore they had said he
was kidnapped.
       Potter could not remain kidnapped forever so at some point he would have
to be rescued and returned to Hogwarts which lead to the current situation.
       Someone was masquerading as Harry, someone who knew him well enough to
act out to his friends and the only someone who could possibly do that was the
Dog, willingly or otherwise. After all, while Harry provided hope, there was no
way anyone expected a sixteen year old to prevail against the Dark Lord so
whoever it was camouflaged as him wouldn't have to do so in a combat situation.
And with the lack of classes because of the study time in preparation for the
OWLs, there would be no chance for anyone to examine the impostor's abilities
against Potters. The situation would only become dangerous for the Light if
they let it continue too long but...
       In time, say over the summer, once the battle became more ingrained in
the community, Draco was sure that 'Harry' would suffer some sort of heroic
accident...
       If such a thing was not so dangerous to his Dark Lord Father, Draco
would have found the precarious situation of the Light amusing. Precarious
though it was, it could still cause too much damage and he had to expose this
false Harry as soon as possible.
       "I suddenly find myself wanting to talk with a certain Gryffindor," he
mused, as he looked back to the transfiguration parchment. "It should be
interesting to see how deep they are digging their graves."
       :Or how deep you're digging yours.:
===
       Remus looked through narrowed eyes across the table at the man who sat
before him.
       This was not what he had been expecting.
       "Are you certain?" He'd already asked once or twice before, but this was
so unprecedented he wasn't sure what to think.
       "It's come from a few Pack members," the other man responded evenly.
He'd asked the same question himself. "As far as we can tell, it's genuine."
       "But who?"
       "That's the question."
       "What do the others think?"
       The man snorted as if the answer should have been obvious. "They're
tentatively for it."
       "What does the Pack think?"
       "They're..." The man struggled for a bit. "They're hopeful but at the
same time they aren't."
       Remus smiled, nodding. "We're seen as animals that should be hunted down
and destroyed, or we are seen as weapons that rip, claw and destroy, or worse,
bite to swell our ranks. We are only ever rarely seen as human. They are
wondering where the catch is, am I right?"
       The man sighed. There was a reason Lupin, despite his seeming prominence
in Wizarding Society was a pack leader. He understood and he could explain.
"Yes," he agreed. "The Ministry would kill us, the Dark Lord would use us, and
it's been that way for centuries. Now someone will see us as human? The Pack
wants it to be true but they don't want to be betrayed."
       "This could too easily be a trick."
       "They know, that's why they are unsure."
       Remus sighed. The news the Pack messenger brought was stunning. He
needed time to think. "Do you need my answer now?"
       "I need an answer now. I have to tell the others."
       Lupin scratched between his eyes, feeling tired. "With everything else
that's happening, this is going to require a Gathering."
       "That will be dangerous."
       "If this is true, then it will be worth it."
       The other werewolf nodded, his eyes sombre. There hadn't been a
Gathering of Pack Leaders for over fifty years because the last time, the
Ministry had found out and had slaughtered them all, leading to the new young,
inexperienced Pack Leaders siding with Grindlewald in retaliation. It was not
something the Ministry was going to let them forget, despite their role in it.
       "All right," Remus finally said, after thinking long and hard for a few
moments. "Tell the others I need to know more before I make a decision. With
the Dark Lord's re-emergence stronger than expected we can expect offers from
both the Ministry and the Dark Lord. This, if true, might offer us an
alternative, but only if they are allied with the winning side. Once we know
more, we are going to have to risk a Gathering to decide either way."
       The man nodded. He'd expected such a response but he had to be sure.
"Where can I find you next, because I know I'll be doing messenger service for
a while."
       "I'll be at Hogwarts over the summer. After that, I'm not sure."
       "There'll be answers before then."
       Lupin nodded. "How are things generally?" He asked.
       "Difficult. Barely enough of us can get any type of work to support the
rest. We've tried doing Muggle jobs, you know, labouring and stuff like that,
but the Ministry was on us in a flash sprouting some rubbish about magical
creatures not being allowed to intermingle with Muggles. If we were truly that
'magical' we wouldn't be in this situation!"
       Remus nodded again, his eyes wise. "Does anyone need special attention?"
       "At the moment, thank god no! We couldn't afford it. We are so close to
lost."
       "Fudge was not easy."
       "Fudge was easy," the man returned. "It was his helpers and their laws
that are difficult."
       "I'll see if I can't get Dumbledore to pressure for their retraction."
       The werewolf's eyes opened wide. It was sometimes easy to forget who
Remus had contacts with. "That would help, Pack Leader," he said formally.
"That would help."
       "I lead to serve," Remus said the ritual phrase.
       "We follow to remember," the return phrase was uttered as the man rose.
       "Try, please," he said softly, almost inaudibly. "If something's not
done soon we will have a split in the Pack."
       Lupin closed his eyes as the Pack messenger disappeared in the tavern,
leaving to spread the news of this new offer and to speak with the other Pack
Leaders. The warning didn't seem urgent, had anyone else heard it, but Remus
knew that they, the Pack was almost at breaking point. They were so close to
lost. The words were desperate and too true. The Ministry didn't know how close
they were to destroying them. And faced with institutionalised destruction on
one hand or the loss of humanity on the other, many Pack members, who had been
told they were less than human for years, would take the only path for
survival, because while it was destructive, it was still an affirmation of self
that all living beings sought. And then the Ministry would just have further
cause to hunt them, incapable of differentiating between those werewolves who
had been pushed too far, and those who had tried to hold on to neutrality.
Mercy was not something they believed in for mere animals.
       The Dark Lord hadn't yet made his appeal for their support, but it was
only a matter of time. Remus doubted they would be able to stall him as they
had fifteen years ago but they'd be able to for a little while. Although with
the strength of the attack he had launched, the Ministry would by force be
looking for allies. Perhaps they could bargain to get laws that Fudge's
administration had unfairly levelled against them revoked. Sort of as a good
will gesture. And now there was a third option. One that didn't seem to come
from either the Dark Lord or the Ministry and one that seemed too good to be
true.
       Until he knew more he didn't want to think about it.
       Remus rose, leaving a knut on the table as payment for his drink.
Dumbledore was expecting him soon, and as much as he respected the ancient
wizard, he was not able to give the man an excuse to look into his travels.
       It would be too dangerous for the Pack and when he had become a Leader
he had sworn an oath in blood that he would die before he betrayed the Pack.
       But on the other hand, his decision of seventeen years passed would
stand. He would not condone a course of action that would ultimately lead to
their extinction.
       Leader or not, outcast or not, he knew where he stood.
 
 
***** Play the Game *****
Chapter Notes
     Text Key
     :blah: Telepathic conversation
     -blah- Parseltongue
     $blah$ Phoenix talk
Weapon
Chapter 4 Play the Game
===
       Xeoaph flexed his fingers, admiring the ripple of sinew and muscle and
the way the knuckle bones pressed on his skin, close to the surface when he
made a fist, his forearm muscles tense. He was almost healed, the exhaustion he
should never have felt from loaning Lucius his power, was gone. He was ready to
go speak with the Wizards, to force them to see the truth about this Dark Lord
and to offer them an alliance never before heard of.
       His children had healed as well. While it would take time for them to
accept the losses they were ready to extract revenge. It would also take time
to replace the fallen but that was something they all understood. While the
physical process to become a vampire was easy, it was not as random as some
Muggle movies and most Wizards believed. Each potential candidate was screened
and assessed, their worth determined before they were either accepted or eaten.
When you lived eternally, you could not afford to have those who were
unsuitable within your ranks.
       His blue eyes narrowed. There was a disturbance at the entrance... He
listened again.
       It wasn't hostile. His children weren't attacking... No... they were...
awed?
       Blue eyes snapped open as Xeoaph brushed up against the presence
entering his domain.
       "Master," he'd whispered the word before was aware he had spoken,
jumping to the ground to abase himself before the one who had made him.
       The elder waved the gesture of respect away with a flick of her slim
hand. Her two flanking guards watched him with calculating eyes. He didn't
expect anything else and rather forcefully reminded himself to keep his
movements steady in their presence. These two had been his Masters Guards for
as long as he could remember and there was a reason they were still there.
Nothing got passed them, nothing. "Master, why are you here?" He didn't look
up.
       "I read my childe. And I always know when one of my children is in to
deep, or in this case, when the humans are playing with things better left
alone. The shadows are moving."
       "The shadows have moved before," Xeoaph said softly, concerned about the
slight note of worry he could hear in his Master's voice. He knew without
looking that she was examining everything, almost as if searching for
something.
       "They have, but they have not been this confident for over one thousand
years. They are everywhere, my childe, even here!" Slim fingers flicked through
ancient symbols, long forgotten and a sphere of energy coalesced at her call
before it was thrown into a corner.
       There was a scream and the vampire winced at the noise, noting that only
his Master seemed unaffected. Around the energy sphere motes of darkness
scattered, almost like rats running everywhere. They reformed into a shadow on
the stone before it rose slightly, two points of absolute darkness forming the
eyes that locked gazes with his Master.
       The shadow and the ancient vampire stared at each other for a few
moments, another sphere of energy gathering between the vampires fingers before
the shadow hissed, "To you."
       With that it vanished and Xeoaph felt more than saw his Master relax and
became aware of exactly how tense her guards were.
       They were slightly more relaxed now that the shadow had departed but he
could see the strain in their eyes. And if something was straining them...
       "There have been attacks?" He asked quietly.
       "I told you, they have not been this confident for centuries."
       Xeoaph nodded, looking down as he considered this information.
       "There has been no condemnation of your decision to help Malfoy. Most
just think you were playing."
       Xeoaph's eyes blazed in sudden anger. "Do they not realise how dangerous
this one is?" He growled.
       "Not yet," his Master responded. "But then on the other hand, humans are
such an apathetic topic for us, it's not surprising. I gather though, my
childe, you had a specific reason for wanting to see this Dark Lord destroyed?"
       Xeoaph shivered. He was sure his Master already knew everything and even
if she didn't she could have known in an instant by forcing him to reveal what
he knew but she was asking. There was something he didn't know. He struggled
for a moment before sighing softly. There was no way to tread easily around his
Master. No matter what she knew, she would tell him only if she thought it
necessary and even if she didn't force him to talk, she wouldn't let him rest
until she knew.
       "I... he... this Serpent Lord is the Dark Lord."
       "The Dark Lord?"
       "The one who controls the darkness, the shadows."
       "Impossible!"
       "I thought so myself, Master until I saw the Shadows obey him."
       "They obeyed him?"
       "He flicked the power at me and it burned."
       "That's not possible."
       "It burned. It felt like I was dying again."
       "The Dark Lord Voldemort is too corrupted to hold power over the
shadows!"
       "It burned."
       His Master fell silent, flexing her fingers in an imitation of the
gesture he had made earlier. "My childe," she said finally. "While I do not
doubt that happened, it is impossible for this Dark Lord to hold that power.
Caliph examined him, many years ago, and Riddle was already too corrupted then
and it is not possible to purify yourself to that extent."
       Xeoaph nodded but was not quite ready to concede the point. "I do not
doubt Caliph, Master but could an alliance between him and the shadows be
possible. Because there was more than that one instant."
       "An alliance between him and the shadows is not possible, but an
alliance been him and the Shadow master is possible," his Master said
carefully. "That would also explain why they are so confident. Although...
light does not treat well with dark... I would be interested in meeting such a
Shadow Lord who could deal with the Dark Lord Voldemort."
       "Then that is what has happened," Xeoaph concluded, "although there must
be more to their alliance that we have guessed at."
       "Oh?"
       Xeoaph opened his mind to his Master, allowing her to see his memories
as he began his explanation. "I mean because of this," the vampire said as he
recalled the end of the battle in the Atrium. He recalled with particular
clarity the Dark Lord's words as he died, 'Vengeance will be mine,' and the
rippling shock that had been present when Lucius' sword was stopped by another.
But Xeoaph focused not on the Dark Lord and the small mage warrior who had
taken his body but on the taller wizard who had appeared in the shards of the
broken warding, the wizard who had wielded the shadows to destroy his children
with a facility no wizard should even possess.
       "I know this man is only a servant of the Shadow Lord," Xeoaph began as
he sensed his Master's anger at the destruction. After all, his children were
her children. "But to use the shadows so easily he has to be a ranking servant
and if the Shadow Lord is prepared to show himself so openly, and is prepared
to resurrect the Serpent Lord then their alliance is quite... encompassing."
       "Or it is not an alliance at all," his Master said with narrowed eyes
and a note of speculation in her voice. "If we are dealing with a Shadow Lord
who is not afraid of his power, as the last one was, that would explain the
shadows' arrogance, and it would be possible that the Serpent Lord is nothing
more than the Shadow Lord's puppet which would explain why those two servants
arrived late. He may not have been expecting Malfoy's interference...
Although," the ancient vampire grinned tightly, her eyes glittering in
anticipation, "I truly do wish to meet this Shadow Lord," she said with a
laugh.
       "Master?"
       "No matter what the true situation is, my childe, I think it's obvious
that this Shadow Lord knows how to play," her voice lost the amusement as she
continued. "But they are playing our game, and the shadows are arrogant to
think that they or their Master can play our game and win!
       "You will go to the Ministry," she said suddenly, eyes burning as he
turned to face him, speaking in a voice which would bear no insubordination.
"I... I think I will play this Lord's game. I will go to the Dark Lord. He will
be over joyed to see me, I'm sure. The chance to humble you through me will be
an opportunity he will not pass up."
       "Why not go to the Shadow Lord?"
       She smiled. "We know a lot of things, my childe. The shadows can be
quite generous with information when you speak with them although that has
changed of late but on the identity of their Master they are silent. I could
torture one of them for eternity and they still would not speak on that. Their
Master is the one thing they guard above all others, the one thing even they
are afraid of losing. Their Master is their only weakness for without their
Masters guidance and will they are nothing more than insubstantial shadows. But
I will find them through the Serpent Lord, when they are sure of their power,
they will reveal themselves to me, and then we will strike."
       "Master," Xeoaph bowed.
       Xeoaph's master nodded towards him. "I will however take Arabella with
me."
       "She is very new, Master."
       "She is also a witch and a seduction gift from the Dark Lord. I'm sure
someone will appreciate the irony of me giving her back. We play the game, my
childe, but we play to win."
===
       Harry closed his eyes as he retreated further into his mind. His body
was currently sitting in Dumbledore's office waiting for the wizard to come to
speak with him. It was probably better, safer, if he didn't know what was
happening, since he wasn't sure how sensitive Fawkes was. The small piece of
Fawkes couldn't sense him normally, but in the actual presence of the phoenix
it was best not to take any chances. Besides, this would give him a chance to
clarify a few things with the shadows.
       :I think you went a little too far,: he began as he felt Xaos' mental
presence. The basilisk slithered up to him before coiling around him
protectively. Harry couldn't help but smile as Xaos purred, butting his nose
into his cheek gently for attention. He raised his hands to stroke at the great
basilisk's crest as a shadow materialised in front of him.
       He felt it sift through his memories and his emerald eyes narrowed
dangerously as he glared at the shadow, it sighed. :You could be right.:
       :I need her,: Harry hissed, :as a cover, not as a lover! And if this
copy of me loves her then I am stuck!:
       :We can prevent that from happening.:
       :Why didn't you just help me create a shade, rather than a whole copy? I
could have used my animagus form like Sirius does!:
       :No, Master, you can't.:
       :Why not?:
       :Because Master, you aren't quite ready to become your animagus form,
and your form is... somewhat... unique.:
       :Unique?:
       :Conspicuous too.:
       :What is it?:
       :No, we can't tell you yet. Only one half of you is ready to embrace it
and the other,: the shadow indicated towards the copy that was still waiting
for Dumbledore, :is not yet ready.:
       :I do not ever want them to be ready!:
       :Master,: the shadow began seriously. :To keep Fawkes from knowing the
truth you are going to need her. And to be able to embrace your whole animagus
form you are going to need him. He is subservient to you though, so what he
feels you do not have to feel, and we will ensure that you do not love her. We
would suggest though that for the moment you act as if you do, Master. Her
seduction will be worth it and when the time comes the Andalusian Bind will tie
her to you.:
       :You're agreeing to this very easily.: Harry said suspiciously.
       The shadow looked back at him as if to say that he should know better by
now. :We have told you Master, when you are happy, content, it is very easy for
us to get what we want, what we need from you. When you are upset, angry or
otherwise disappointed with us, then it is difficult.:
       :I could also destroy you.:
       :True but we do not believe you want to.:
       :If I end up loving her, I will want to.:
       :We know and therefore we will ensure that doesn't happen. However you
will need to cast the Andalusian Bind on her once she is seduced.:
       :The bind where she will see me only as she imagines and obey without
question? You seem sure of the need.:
       :You will be sure of the need as well. Well, you could use Xanadu but
you will probably want her to have more mind than a gibbering obedient mess.:
       -Master, if you aren't sure, may I eat her?- Xaos whispered into his
ear.
       Harry laughed and stroked his face against the basilisk's looking into
the serpents now red eyes. -You may,- he hissed happily, -but if they are so
sure, then I will probably have to find another for you.-
       Xaos' tongue flickered. -I like the taste of the King on you. I do not
like the taste of others.-
       -I do not like the taste of others,- Harry agreed.
       :As we told the Dark Lord, we will do everything in our power to see
that you can lie with him again, Master.: the shadow said by way of parting.
       :And, as I'm sure he told you, see that you do!: Harry snarled as he
returned his attention to the office, as Dumbledore walked into the room.
===
       Harry sat as he waited for the Headmaster. The ancient wizard was
attending to a few last minute matters so that they could talk unhindered...
Well unhindered short of a Dark Lord's attack, which if anyone had thought to
ask him he could have told them wasn't going to happen. But they never thought
to ask him although now that he had been inducted into the Order he was fairly
sure that that would change.
       His true self was still sulking over choices that were not choices and
he could vaguely sense that he was discussing things with the shadows. It
actually made things easier, and he hoped that his other didn't do more than
watch. Whatever decision was reached with the Shadows didn't concern him. He
had been created to protect himself and that's what he would continue to do.
The question of his reality, or of continued existence was not of concern. So
long as his true self remained, then in some way he would also remain; although
he was only a pale copy of he who was meant to be. He couldn't help but smile a
little. No one else would ever have these thoughts and truly, when it came down
to it, nothing else but the continued existence of his true self was of
concern.
       Nothing.
       Not lies, not lovers, not friends, not family.
       He wasn't quite sure what would happen if it came down to a choice
between survival of the Dark Lord and his true self but he rather thought that
if it ever came to that, his true self would have resumed complete control long
before he would ever be forced to make that choice.
       Fawkes trilled at him and he turned his smile to the phoenix, his eyes
glittering as the fire bird landed beside him and allowed him to stroke his
soft plumage. The bird cooed happily, almost like a pigeon and closed his eyes
as he leaned into the touch. Harry couldn't help but smile. It was so much like
Xaos. The harmonics shifted, becoming deeper, slower as Fawkes fluffed his
wings, lying down completely in Harry's lap.
       "Ah," Dumbledore's amused voice came from the door, "I see that Fawkes
has convinced you of the virtue of petting him."
       "It would seem that way Headmaster."
       "He can be worse than Sirius at times."
       Fawkes snorted at the Headmaster, cracking open one eye to give the
ancient wizard a derisive glance before he ruffled his feathers again and
settled back down, obviously prepared to ignore anything further Dumbledore had
to say.
       "It's all right," Harry murmured. "He makes me feel... He makes me feel
safe," he said finally, knowing that any other response would not be accepted.
       Dumbledore smiled as he moved to his desk. "Sherbet Lemon?" he asked
absently as he took one from the jar. When Harry shook his head the Headmaster
looked up again, his eyes becoming serious. "How are you Harry?" He asked
kindly. "You've had a rough couple of days, so how are you feeling?"
       "Fine... good even... considering... I think though if I had my OWLs
now, I'd be in a much worse state. Thank you for postponing them."
       Dumbledore chuckled. "I pulled you out as much for the other students as
for you Harry. It would be disheartening for them if you were to eclipse them
up without studying."
       "Huh?" He blinked in an artful display of confusion.
       "It's okay, Harry. I already surmised that your... connection with Tom
had gotten stronger since he took you from the Dursley's. You know things,
don't you? Things you haven't learnt, things you shouldn't know but they are
things he knows and somehow the information got transferred to you."
       Harry sniffed, eyes clouding with tears as he nodded. "Sometimes it's
fun," he said, "but sometimes the information is too much. It's too evil," he
whispered.
       "Harry," Dumbledore said sternly. "You must never think that. Show me
your wand," he instructed.
       "It's not mine," Harry said.
       "Show me, please," the ancient wizard insisted.
       Harry nodded and slowly pulled out the wand that he now carried,
thirteen inches of yew that many people would snap in an instant.
       "Is this wand evil?"
       "Huh?"
       "Is this wand evil?"
       Harry blinked.
       Dumbledore smiled encouragingly at him. "Tom now has your wand,
correct?"
       "Yes."
       "Is your wand evil?
       "No."
       "So is that wand evil?"
       "No."
       "You see, Harry. The knowledge you have from Tom is not evil. It is the
use you put it to. Although," the older wizard sighed. "If you have all of his
knowledge, then I will admit that you have a greater knowledge of the Dark Arts
than just about anyone. But the Dark Art's aren't evil by themselves Harry, it
is the use of them that makes them evil. And we will help you with that."
       "He..." Harry began slowly, not really paying attention to the ancient
wizard. "He had sex with me, didn't he?"
       Dumbledore froze. That wasn't a question he had been expecting.
       "I never knew who it was, except that they had red eyes and were so
gentle. I should have known it was him, who else has red eyes? But I guess a
part of me didn't want to know because it didn't hurt." He lowered his face to
let the tears fall on Fawkes' plumage. "After all the others, I guess I wanted
someone to see me, to want me. I didn't even fight him."
       "Shush," Dumbledore said as he moved to sit beside Harry, his hands
stroked Harry's back. "You didn't know what you were doing. He made sure of
that. Alastor detected a Confu and a Easasum charm. Tom didn't want you to
know, and you were in no condition to resist those charms."
       "Why didn't you tell me?"
       "You were so convinced it was someone else, and dealing with the rest of
your memories, we thought it would over whelm you if we forced that truth onto
you."
       Harry sniffed and nodded in understanding, rocking back and forth as he
sought to comfort himself. "He did it again, though, didn't he? I don't
remember anything this time but when I got back I could feel it. I never told
the Aurors this. I could feel that he'd been with me, in me, and that's the
reason I got away. He was going to do it again. I was awake this time and he
was going to... I couldn't... I couldn't... I didn't want it... I couldn't
fight him so I ran... He's supposed to hate me!"
       "Shush, Harry, shush," the ancient wizard murmured, pitching his voice
low so that it sounding like a soft litany as he surreptitiously cast a warming
spell. This was not what he wanted to discuss, but for Harry to grow, to become
what he needed, the boy would need to work through this. "We know Harry, we
know, but when you did not say anything, we could not be sure and we did not
want to force that on you. Everyone is here for you though Harry, everyone
knows that it was not your fault."
       "But he's meant to hate me!"
       Dumbledore looked up at the paintings within his office. They were all
looking on sympathetically but they bore slight looks of confusion. They knew
what was happening but it appeared even they had no idea what had caused the
change in Tom. "Sometimes," he began uncertainly. "Sometimes when you hate that
badly you're not even sure any more and what seems to be hate can be viewed as
love. Tom does not love you Harry, but because he hates you with a singular
passion that defies all logic, he might in some way view you as his possession,
someone only he can torture and since those Muggles tortured you in that way,
he couldn't because you would associate that with them, not him. So he showed
you the other way, thus he was gentle."
       Harry cried even harder, burying his face into Fawkes who trilled a soft
note of comfort.
       "He does not love you and it does not make it right. I'm not asking you
to forgive him but you must remember that Tom has become so twisted that even
he doesn't know what he's doing. Harry, it was not about you. For him it was
about power, about hate and how he could prove it. He hates you Harry. He hates
you so much that he probably threatened to let you live forever so that he
could do it to you again, and again."
       Messy black hair gave a short jerk of assent and the older wizard
grimaced. Tom was so predictable at times. Ancient blue eyes met fiery red as
Fawkes looked up at him. Even after all this Harry still loved someone, was
still totally devoted to the light. It was a gift Dumbledore was thankful for.
       "That's why...," Harry sniffed, swallowing hard as he raised his head
and wiped the tears from his eyes. "That's why I'll fight. I might not win, but
by God, I'll take him with me."
       "Let's hope it doesn't come to that," the old wizard said sincerely.
"Harry, do you wish to postpone our talk?"
       Harry blinked and then shook his head carefully. "We've already put it
off too long. I've dealt with everything this long, but now I need to know what
can be done."
       "We are always here for you Harry," the Headmaster said clearly.
       "I know, but there are some wounds that will only heal when he dies."
       "Then we will do everything in our power to see that that happens soon.
If you need to stop, Harry, let me know and we will continue at another time."
       "It's okay," Harry murmured, his hands once again beginning to stroke
the phoenix in his lap.
       The man just didn't understand. All this time he hadn't wanted support,
he knew he had that already, he wanted action. That was all that would make
things better... Why couldn't Dumbledore understand that?
       "First of all Harry, let me begin by telling you what will happen over
this summer, baring other incidents." Dumbledore was careful to keep his voice
soft and gentle as he spoke and if Harry had of looked at him he would have
seen the glow of amusement returning to his eyes. "Firstly, after the other
students have left for the summer you will have your OWLs and though you might
complain that it is unfair, I expect you to fully utilise the information you
have. Don't hold back Harry, just because you think you shouldn't know. We'll
use your OWLs also as a test to see how much knowledge was transferred. You
must never be afraid Harry. Of all the people I would trust with the Dark
Lord's knowledge it is you. Remember, it is how you use what you know that
determines whether it is good or bad.
       "After you've finished your OWLs, we'll be able to see how much training
you need. While you may know these things, we will have to teach you how much
you know." Dumbledore chuckled. "I don't seem to be making much sense," he said
with a smile, encouraging Harry to at least look slightly amused. The boy
complied with a wane smile and a nod to indicate his understanding.
       "I think we'll focus on Animagus training because it is an in depth
transfiguration that requires knowledge of a wider range of magic. And, I'm
sure your Godfather would approve. Truly remarkable was that feat, to become
animagi by end of fifth year, but then those four always were gifted when they
worked together." He allowed himself a soft smile in remembrance of the past.
       "After that Harry, once you are well versed in what could be called
normal magic we must begin to teach you how to use your power."
       "My power?"
       "Yes, your power," the old wizard sighed. "I should have spoken to you
about this earlier but with everything that has happened, there never seemed to
be time, or an opportunity. You are the Heir to a very old bloodline Harry, and
a very powerful bloodline.
       "What Tom told you in his letter was true, to a point, Harry. You are
the Heir of Gryffindor, hence your ability to use his sword. But it is more
than that.
       "There were four founders of Hogwarts. You've known this since first
year, I know. They all possessed a unique power which elevated them above the
other witches and wizards of their day and that wasn't just through their
vision to create a school.
       "Tom describes Helga's power as one that is...
       "'To feel the earth and to know the truth'," Harry quoted the letter. "I
remember, sir, I remember everything he wrote."
       "Good," Dumbledore said easily, careful to make sure that Harry knew he
was pleased. "You know more about the Founders than most people do then.
       "Helga could speak with the earth, with the forest nymphs, trees and
their dryads. She could tell when someone was telling the truth even better
than veritaserum or any other spell or potion. It doesn't sound like such a
dangerous power, does it?"
       Harry shook his head.
       "Tom always seemed to discount the two ladies but you must always
remember that in combat, both Rowena and Helga could hold their own against
Salazar and Godric. Helga's power was mostly benign until she got angry.
Imagine being on a battlefield where nature itself attacks you? Tree roots and
grass twine together to tangle your feet, branches whip around to strike you
and the very soil itself is against you. Not to mention the fact that if she
could see you, she practically knew what your battle plans were. 'Know the
truth' is an encompassing statement. A number of enemies found out the hard way
that you don't anger her.
       "Rowena could, as stated, control the spirits of the dead. Any sensitive
can see a ghost, but Rowena could communicate even with the dead who had moved
on. And for ghosts, she could grant them the ability to interact with the
physical realm without becoming poltergeists. Her bird totem is actually
modelled from her familiar, the spirit of a raven she'd kept as a girl."
       "I always find it amusing to think of her power and then to consider how
she is seen. I'm sure most Ravenclaw's would be horrified to know of their
House Founders ability."
       "Probably," the Headmaster laughed before he continued. "Salazar had the
most well-known ability. Well, the basic ability was the most well-known but
the true depth of his ability is not always appreciated. Salazar, like Tom was
called the Serpent Lord because not only did he possess the gift of
Parceltongue but his animagus form was that of a Basilisk and all serpents,
regardless of species obeyed him.
       "And finally there is Godric's ability. The ability you have inherited.
Of all of the Founders we know the least about his ability." Dumbledore looked
into space as he recalled a study he had once done on the Founders. It had made
Godric appear inferior in every way to the others, but he was still considered
one of the most powerful wizards in history. "He never mastered his animagus
form, he refused to use his ability in combat and if he was forced to,
invariably it was a slaughter that he alone walked away from then he would then
engage in a month of cleansing rituals.
       "It might seem surprising but the others backed his decision not to use
his ability, and they did their utmost to ensure he didn't have to but there
were times when it was unavoidable and it is from those times that the
Gryffindor name gains its stature.
       "His power, Harry, was best described as Absolute Light. A light so
strong that it burns away the dark. That's why Fawkes likes you so much, Harry,
because by your very essence you are light.
       "In time, as your ability grows, you will notice... I think they would
best be described as shadows, flickering around you. They will be attracted to
your light, and in exchange for it you will be able to control them."
       "I think I've seen them already," he admitted. "Sometimes, just when the
light's right I see a flickering, and during the match with Slytherin, there
was something there. I didn't think much of it then, I just assumed it was a
side effect of being asleep for so long, or something."
       The ancient wizard held back a grin, his eyes glittering with mirth.
Harry was further along than he thought. "That's wonderful news, Harry,
absolutely wonderful," he said encouragingly. There was one thing the histories
were clear on, and that was the importance of ensuring that Harry didn't think
anything was wrong with his ability. He could think it unique, he could think
it powerful but he could not think that others would be scared and he could not
be scared of it. "I don't really know how they will manifest themselves to you,
but you must never be afraid Harry. They serve you. As the Serpents serve Tom,
so will the shadows serve you and we will teach you control them.
       "After that Harry, summer will most likely be over and Tom will probably
be vying for control. Any help you could provide would be gratefully accepted,
especially since as a Dark Lord, he has already shown an ability to control the
Shadows. When you come into your power, Tom's ability will be as nothing, and
it may even be an ability he has derived via your bond as you are also gifted
in parceltongue, so his ability is nothing to be feared as yours will eclipse
his."
       Emerald eyes clouded briefly before Harry nodded. "I told you," he said
softly. "I will be the weapon."
       "You will not have to fight alone, Harry. The Order will help you, with
everything." Dumbledore sighed. "Harry, there is one thing I have to ask.
Fawkes, when he inducted you into the Order, drove out the Dark Lord's spy but
he sensed something else, not anything wrong, just something... unexpected.
Could you tell me who it is?"
       Emerald eyes opened wide and Harry felt the stirrings of panic at the
old wizards words. Did they know? Had they really figured it out? "What do you
mean?" He asked.
       The Headmaster nodded carefully sensing the boys concern. "Harry, Fawkes
asks everyone who is inducted into the Order the same questions, with some
minor variations at times; 'Do you know anger? Do you know hate? Do you know
pain? And do you know love?' You answered those before he even asked and we
were expecting the answers for the first three. For the last though, we were
expecting a slightly different answer. As I said, there is nothing wrong, it is
just unexpected. We were expecting the love of a child to a parent, or that of
a friend, we weren't expecting the love of an adult. So may I ask, who is it?"
       Fawkes sung softly, encouragingly as he moved his head to allow fire red
eyes to look into emerald. $It's all right, little one. I told you, the Order
has one rule and you have followed it. There is nothing wrong, we just want to
protect them.$
       Harry nodded to cover the slight feeling of disgust he couldn't hide,
even with his current mind set at the phoenix calling him the term the Dark
Lord used. Only his beloved had the right to call him that. "I... it's..." He
gulped, swallowing hard. Actually saying the words, saying the lie was harder
than he thought. "It's Gin," he said, intimating a pet name, before he said the
whole looking up at the ancient wizard. "Virginia."
       Dumbledore smiled, truly pleased. He had suspected that it was Miss
Weasley but he had to be sure. The Weasley's, while sometimes mischievous had a
long history of serving the Light and having seen all the current generation,
he could see no reason for them to change. He had known Virginia loved Harry,
so much so that she had bonded herself to him but it was good to see that her
feelings were reciprocated. They would be good together. "She's still too young
to be inducted into the Order, but I will see to it that she is protected. It
will be subtle Harry, I promise you, Tom will not know."
       Harry nodded. "Thank you. I couldn't bear it if something happened to
her. Sometimes... sometimes it hurts when I think about her."
       :You bet it hurts,: his true self whispered softly but held his tongue
on all other matters.
       The Headmaster nodded as Fawkes trilled again. "By my word, Harry,
nothing shall happen to Virginia Weasley, although," his voice reflected his
mirth, blue eyes twinkling, "I must insist that the two of you hold off on the
children until you are both graduated."
       Harry laughed. "She has six brothers, three of whom, at least for the
next few weeks are in a position where they can get to me. Even next year there
will be Ron, and even though the others won't be at Hogwarts, I'm fully aware
of how patient they can be when waiting for their opportunity to strike. Our
wands will be as one before I even touch her!"
       "They are a rather formidable lot, aren't they?" Dumbledore sighed, once
more become serious. "Harry, for everything, I am sorry. If I had of known, if
I even thought it possible, I would never..."
       "It's okay. You didn't know. Various people made sure you couldn't know
and you thought it was for the best."
       "I should have known. I'm sorry."
       :Not as sorry enough! And not as sorry as you're going to be.:
       "It's okay. Well, it's not okay yet. But it will be."
       Fawkes sung softly as he brushed his head against Harry's cheek, rising
and flying to his perch, a stream of sparks following him.
       "I think that means it's time for you to head back to your dormitory."
       "Ah, it is getting rather late."
       "One more thing, Harry. If you ever need to talk, my door is open, and
if you ever need a place to go, again, you are more than welcome here. Poppy
would also be more than happy to see you. Don't ever hesitate Harry, if you
need anything, don't ever hesitate."
       Harry nodded as he walked towards the stair case before he paused and
turned back. "Thank you," he said softly, both to Fawkes and the Headmaster.
"For everything," he added as he started down the stairs.
       Dumbledore watched as he left. When he heard the gargoyle settle back in
place he drew a deep breath, turning to face Fawkes. "Did you sense anything?"
       The phoenix shook his head.
       "Even with all that cuddling and you still got nothing?"
       $I got my feathers preened,$ Fawkes said. $He has very impressive
shields. They have not been augmented by the Dark Lord, they are his own and
are very powerful. I rather imagine Tom curses their strength. If he had not
told us, we would not have known. I did not sense anything else although I
suspect he is holding back on the shadows.$
       "You mean he already knows them?"
       $Yes. When the time comes for his training, I believe he will be the one
teaching.$
       "Will you..." Dumbledore paused, unsure how to phrase what he knew would
be a difficult question for the phoenix. "Will you call him Master?"
       Fiery red eyes became flat. $He has the light. He is like the other but
I will not be betrayed again. I swore I would call no man Master after the last
one, but I may yet call Harry partner.$
       Albus nodded. Given past history that was the best that could be hoped
for. Centuries of independence was not something a phoenix gave up easily but
for now they would take what they had and move to destroy the dark.
===
       Harry glided down the corridors, his feet silent on the stone. It was a
useful trick he had picked up and one that allowed him to listen for ambushes.
He wasn't expecting Draco to try anything, not with so many things left unknown
but you could never be certain.
       :That was interesting. Would you like our views on the Founders?:
       :Yes.:
       :They never supported Godric, never understood him.
       :Rowena was a sanctimonious, stuck up bitch who thought that having an
animagus form that was a shade was the epitome of power, until she discovered
that Godric could control that form without breaking a sweat. She refused to
help him after that.
       :Helga never understood that in the cycle of the earth destruction is a
necessary tool to start anew. She focused on the death, not on the rebirth and
so feared us even though we are not agents of destruction, and through that
feared Godric.
       :Salazar... the closest thing Godric had to a friend but in the end it
wasn't enough and so poisoned by the fear of those around him Godric feared us,
and refused to let us help him. Only in times of extreme stress, on the
battlefield where there was no other choice could we act, and so act we did,
and that in turn fuelled the fear. They were afraid of us, so they were afraid
of Godric and because he didn’t want that, he turned against us.
       :It didn't work, of course, humans are petty like that and it just
caused more pain. In the end, to protect him, we left. That didn't work
either...: The shadows said sadly, and Harry knew that for the moment they
wouldn't elaborate.
       They were silent for a moment before they continued. :We are going to
have to start jumping through hoops to show your control,: they grinned, all
signs of sadness gone. :We will maintain that the Dark Lord can control us,
hence our presence at the Atrium but we will also resist you so that they may
see fully that you are obeying them by enforcing their orders on us.:
       Harry nodded. :Games within games.:
       :We are the game masters.:
       :Heh, true. Dumbledore said Godric never mastered his animagus form.:
       :Yes but that had nothing to do with us or mastery over us.:
       :Okay,: Harry said as he came to the Fat Lady's portrait. She wasn't
around. He sighed as he flicked a bit of magic to open the porthole and climbed
into the Gryffindor Common Room. As expected, it was empty. He'd stayed late
talking with the Headmaster.
       :Could you break the bond with Ginny as she wanted?:
       :We can,: the shadows responded.
       :What's it going to cost?: Harry asked as he began climbing the stairs.
They were playing and he could humour that for the moment.
       :We want Draco.:
       :Why?:
       :To show the world what happens to those who hurt our Master.:
       :All right,: Harry agreed. :I wasn't really sure what to do with him
anyway.:
       :One more thing, Master.:
       :Hmm?:
       :While it is still some time away, do not waste your birthday
celebration.:
       Emerald eyes opened wide as he discerned meaning before a sly smile
crossed his face. :No fear of that happening.:
       :Then we will take care of everything,: the Shadows laughed as they
faded, leaving him to sleep.
 
 
***** Interviews *****
Weapon
Chapter 5 Interviews
===
       Harry suppressed a yawn as he walked into the Common Room. The shadows
had roused him early today and he was slightly curious as to why, but not so
curious that he wanted to wake everyone in the dormitory.
       :It's the first OWL today,: they murmured to him as he sat in one of the
chairs.
       :Oh?:
       :And Blaise and Millicent's gifts will arrive.:
       :Heh!: He was careful to keep the amusement from the portion of Fawkes
he could feel. :I'm looking forward to it.:
       :We have also removed the bond with Virginia Weasley, as ordered.:
       :So you have,: Harry said as he felt the place she had been in his mind.
There was still a slight link but the blue power was absent... Or rather, the
connection to her was now in his favour. He could feel her, she could not feel
him, and he could draw from her energy if that's what it took. He shrugged. For
now, it would be enough and he would tell her what Fawkes and Dumbledore
believed soon and then that game would be fully in motion.
       He undid a few buttons on his shirt, keeping an ear out for the other
students as he looked down at the now revealed phoenix tattoo. It was still a
charcoal colour, the bird beautifully defined. :Can you get rid of this?: He
asked.
       :No.:
       For a brief moment Harry felt nothing but rage and as he was gathering
his power to lash the shadows : if they couldn't get rid of it, why had they
allowed him to go through with it, without even warning him? : they spoke
again.
       :You can get rid of it yourself.:
       :What?: Harry held back his strike.
       :When Fawkes is destroyed, the Order as held together by him will cease
to be. There will be a new phoenix, never doubt, but they will have to make
their own Order, if they can.:
       :So it will fade then?:
       :Yes. Fawkes' Order of the Phoenix will be destroyed and we will finally
have justice for one thousand years of pain.:
       :Justice?: Harry raised one eye brow, questioning, but the shadows were
silent. He smiled slightly. It was okay. Something had happened one thousand
years ago, something they still remembered. Even if they didn't tell him, it
would eventually reveal itself to him. It just added to the interest. :How do I
kill a phoenix?:
       :You can't. They just burst into fire and are reborn. Even if you then
kill the fledgling, it just happens again.:
       :How do you destroy a phoenix then?: Harry reworded his question,
remembering what the shadows had said. They could be so finicky sometimes!
Destroy, kill : was there really a difference?
       :There is a very large difference. You corrupt the light, turn it to
dark, and then we will adsorb the being known as Fawkes into us. It is only
then that the physical body of a phoenix will die.:
       :He will become a shadow?:
       :Yes,: the echoing whispered voice that Harry heard changed as it seemed
to become a single voice rather than the whole.
       :Master, when I was alive, my name was Kali. I was the phoenix who
communed with Merlin. My Light was corrupted by a being summoned by Morgiana,
and thus I am eternally now a shadow, your servant.:
       :How?: Harry asked again. :You have told me that Light and Dark must
both exist because without Light there is no Dark and without Dark there is no
Light. So how can one become so fully the other?:
       :Light and Dark aren't that different from each other Master,: the
echoing voice of the whole returned. :In our case we could become Light, if we
consumed your whole. Of course we don't want to, so we won't but there is a
balance Master. We, Dark can become Light, and creatures such as Fawkes, who
are Light, can become Dark.:
       :I know about the balance,: Harry said, :but how do you corrupt Light?
Kali said it was a creature summoned by Morgiana. What creature was it?:
       :There are two things that can corrupt Light, Master. The individual,
and a being of the type who corrupted Kali. For the individual, species does
not matter, human, phoenix, basilisk, dementor, animal, anything is both Light
and Dark, and anything can chose to forsake either side. This is what happens
when we seduce something, we encourage them to forsake the Light, only after
they have forsaken it may we consume it, unless of course we have your
permission. The Dark Lord Voldemort, for example Master, has forsaken the parts
of himself that are Light. Humans don't need as much as they have really, if
they are prepared to be ruthless. Not many are though. He admits the necessity
of Light, but he also recognises that he only needs a very limited amount of
Light. In this case, that Light is you Master. You are actually a unique
individual Master. You cannot forsake your Light, because we have taken your
darkness.: They seemed to grin before they continued. :The alternative, Master,
is for an external force to corrupt the Light within someone but that can only
be done by something that understands both Light and Dark, and who could be the
two extremes.:
       :What is it?: Harry snapped.
       :There is a level of magic above that which you know Master. Spiritual
magic and energies. Wizards don't use these. In fact it's been theorised that
what you call magic is simply an overflow, the excess as it were from this
spiritual magic...:
       :What is it?:
       :A tenshi, Master, a being of pure spiritual energy,: the shadows said.
       :Where am I meant to find any spiritual being, let alone a tenshi to
corrupt Fawkes?: Harry growled, as he pulled his shirt closed, buttoning it
back up. He couldn't afford to have the other students know, not yet.
       :With the battles that will be fought, we rather imagine some will be
attracted since they find the atmosphere of fear to be quite pleasurable.:
       :So I just walk up to one and ask?: He asked sarcastically. :Even with
the last war, there was no mention of anything on the battle fields.:
       :They aren't interested in you humans until you become spiritual energy,
that's why not even you wizards see them. We will ask if we sense one though,
failing that, Kali does know the spell to summon one and you can... or rather,
the Dark Lord can perform it for us.:
       :Why can't I perform it?:
       :Because you'd automatically kill the tenshi you summoned, Master. You
are going to need a dark tenshi master and all that Light we find so delicious
is very poisonous to those creatures of Dark, and a dark tenshi, while also a
spiritual being, is Dark. They aren't completely and only dark like us, but
they are dark enough and your spiritual energy is powerful enough now, that
they would be affected by your light.:
       :Couldn't the dark tenshi just corrupt it?:
       :In your case, no. Master, you are unique. You are a being who can exist
solely as Light, while we exist solely as Dark. But Master, as you well know,
Light is not a definition of good, and Dark is not a definition of evil. They
are something else.:
       Harry nodded. He knew he was one half of the shadows. They were
Darkness. He was Light. One single individual to serve as the Light for all of
them, to keep the balance. That's why he was Master. He was the Head of their
collective, the only individual the whole could not sacrifice. :You don't seem
to dislike them the way you do other dark creatures,: Harry said, knowing they
would understand the question.
       :Not all dark creatures have forgotten that we are the masters, and
while it is true the dark tenshi have not forgotten, as spiritual beings they
are also not subject to our rules, not completely anyway. We are very generous
to those who haven't forgotten but they don't need our generosity.:
       :I understand the balance, but is there anyone or anything balanced
within themselves? Equally Light and Dark?:
       :There is one. We aren't sure what species they are. We weren't paying
attention when he was created so we don't know if he was always balanced or if
he forsook either Light or Dark until balance was created. He has been alive
for centuries.:
       :Powerful?:
       :And how.:
       :Vampire?:
       :No. But they are also not any of the other eternal creatures. We don't
know what they are, and we have been trying to find out for a while. He can see
us. We suspect he could speak with us but he has refrained since he knows we
are yours... well, he knows we are someone's. Do not concern yourself Master,
he is, and has been for the last several centuries, studiedly neutral and he
will remain that way. And before you argue that either side could force him,
neither will do so, because they both need him too much.:
       :Keep watch please, though. I don't really want to find out the hard way
that he has picked the wrong side.:
       :We will, Master, we will. We have our own interest in him.:
       :All right,: he sighed. :We'll find a way, somehow, for everything,: he
added. :Now, you've been putting this off for too long, since Blaise and
Millicent are about to get a surprise today, show me Draco's response to seeing
me.:
       :Heh! You're going to talk with him today, aren't you?:
       He nodded. :Whatever delusion he's spun for himself, don't you think I
should give him to opportunity to test it? Unless... you want me to stay away
from him?: Harry recalled that he had given Draco to them.
       :No, no, no,: they said quickly. :We're going to torture him slowly. A
whisper here, a nudge there... It should be amusing to see what he will plan.
Then... well, we will see how well he has entertained us before we decide how
to finish him.:
       :Mercy?:
       :No, more customisation. We don't want to decide on a course of action
when a different one would prove more entertaining.:
       :Ah,: Harry nodded. :Now show me.:
       :Close your eyes.:
       Harry complied and suddenly he wasn't sitting in the Common Room but he
was once again in the Great Hall, sitting at the Gryffindor table, surrounded
by the Weasley's chatting amicably. He looked around as Ron and Hermione kept
talking, not noticing his in attention.
       Dumbledore was watching on with an indulgent smile. Snape looked
somewhat surprised. For a spy, if you knew what to look for the Potions Master
was amazingly easy to read. But then, Harry mused, not many people knew what to
look for. The other Professors just seemed relieved. Most of the other students
were ignoring him except for...
       :Patius Gibels,: the shadows identified the Ravenclaw fourth year who
was glaring at him.
       :Death Eater?:
       :Parents are.:
       :Lucius' or Voldemort's?:
       :The Dark Lord's.:
       Harry smiled. :I gather he hasn't told everyone about the change of
attitude towards me?:
       :You gather correctly.:
       :I will be careful then.:
       :Gibels will wear the Dark Mark before the summer is over.:
       Harry nodded as he continued to look around. There were a few more
students who were watching him. They were just hiding it better than Gibels.
Obviously most of the Slytherins were but he was surprised by some of the
others. There was more interest from the Hufflepuffs than he had been expecting
and he mentally noted a few of them who could be pursued later. No one ever
suspected the Hufflepuffs... If they ever learnt to use that advantage...
well... It would be an interesting battle.
       There were two Aurors at the door who were glancing towards him now and
then but as he continued to talk with the Weasleys, they seemed to relax. Their
ease was a ruse. It was reassuring. He would have been disappointed if he could
deceive combat Auror's so quickly.
       Finally he turned towards the door, where a flicker of movement told him
that Draco was about to appear. The blond Slytherin was surrounded by several
toadies, Crabbe, Goyle and a few others of little importance. He seemed puffed
up, confident and, Harry looked closer, he was slightly amused at something.
Draco paused at the entrance, looking around the Great Hall, and Harry could
see the exact instant that the blond saw him.
       It had been gradual up until that point. The blond had noticed that the
Gryffindor table was not depressed and that the other students were talking
happily. He'd seen that the teachers seemed relieved and that had caused him
some worry, a slight fading in the arrogant confidence but then when he'd seen
one black head surrounded by red and one brown, he'd known.
       The arrogance seemed to drain out of him and his face became slack. He
stopped talking mid-sentence, his lackeys giving him an odd look before they
too saw the truth. Grey eyes opened wide and there was a quick intake of
breath, the blond hyperventilating as his mind tried to deny everything. His
small hands were clenched into fists that trembled slightly.
       Harry laughed. Oh, yes, it was amusing to see someone's beliefs so
totally destroyed.
       Then between one breath and the next, Draco straightened, blinking
carefully as he tried to assume a more normal expression but Harry could see
the strain in the Slytherin. Whatever he had thought, the belief that he knew
he had killed Potter was gone and beneath the practiced gaze of arrogance Harry
could see the doubt. If something he knew he'd done could be undone so easily,
what else did he not know? What else had changed?
       After a long moment, Draco began moving towards his table, his strut
showing only his usual arrogance, his lackeys trailing after him, slack jawed
and disbelieving as they cast almost continual glances in the direction of the
Gryffindor table.
       Ah, that was funny. Not as dramatic as he'd thought it would be but then
in public, where his image and reputation depended on it, Draco could think
quickly. He wondered what story the Slytherin had concocted for himself.
       :We're not telling,: the shadows said smugly as the image faded.
       :Why not?:
       :Because that would be telling. You'll find out soon enough.:
       :I guess I will.:
       :Get to breakfast, Master, you don't want to miss the other surprise.:
       Harry snickered mentally and stretched, opening his eyes slowly,
blinking in the sudden light as he made it seem he'd been asleep for a little
while. Ron and Hermione were both watching him, sorta... They were also reading
their notes as fast as they could.
       "'morning!" He said easily.
       "Good morning Harry," Hermione returned the greeting. "Please tell me
you didn't sleep there?" she asked, barely looking up from her notes.
       "Nah, I woke up early and couldn't get back to sleep! I didn't seem to
have that problem here."
       "Why didn't you wake me?" Ron moaned.
       "Because before this OWL you need two things Ron, lots of sleep and a
good breakfast," Harry said. "So, shall we go and attend to the second one?"
       "We should," Hermione answered for them both, snapping Ron's book closed
as they rose.
       "I still say you have all the luck," Ron muttered as he followed the
others out of the common room.
       "I've got to do them soon," Harry countered with a smile, closing the
portrait behind them.
       Breakfast was going to be interesting.
===
       Breakfast was abnormally quiet. The presence of the OWL examiners
sitting at the high table, squished in between the teachers, meant that many
students seemed to have foregone their meal completely, and those that were
there were affected by the serious air exuded by the fifth years. The seventh
years weren't much better, although their NEWTs would be on in a week or so.
There was only a quiet buzz accompanied by the rustle of parchment as it was
turned with feverous haste during the last second cram session.
       You could feel the nervous tension in the air. Harry grinned, helping
himself to eggs and bacon as Ron and Hermione barely pecked at their toast.
Ginny was at the table as well and he nodded at her, suppressing a surge of
pleasure as she nodded back before looking down, blushing. She was acting
perfectly, and she didn't even know it.
       There was a high pitched squeal as two birds flew in through one of the
open shutters near the roof. They were eagle hawkes, black sleek and large,
each carrying a square box that seemed as large as them. Both packages were
wrapped in black and tied with a ribbon. There was a small folded parchment
attached to each.
       They circled for a few moments, as most of the students turned their
attention upwards, searching for their targets before they swooped in a blaze
of feathers and flapping wings, touching down smoothly and landing on top of
their packages in front of Millicent and Blaise. Both students looked confused
as they were regarded by black hawk eyes and wicked hunting beaks, but both
were from magical families and had been around birds since birth. They
automatically reached out to undo the ties from the bird's legs, pulling their
hands back quickly as both birds rose into the air, sharp pinions extended
beneath themselves, as they flapped their wings powerfully, circling again to
gain speed before they angled themselves towards the shutter and disappeared.
       Millicent cried out happily as she read the note before she laughed and
began to undo the wrapping.
       :Those notes are from their parents,: the shadows whispered to Harry
before he could ask. :We didn't want anyone interfering.:
       Harry nodded slightly, keeping the shade of himself that contained
Fawkes' essence locked within the duality he had created. His godfather had
shown him how to hide his true self there, but you could reverse it and hide
the shade, keeping it trapped within an illusion. It wasn't perfect, and he
couldn't do it for long periods of time since Fawkes would eventually notice
it, but for those events that he wanted to see and feel first hand, the prison
of self was perfectly adequate.
       The laugh turned into a scream, echoed by Blaise's cry of revulsion as
the boxes corners flipped up and out to reveal their contents. Other curious
Slytherin students peaked into the boxes and the scream was soon a chorus as
they pulled back, several loosing their breakfast to give the hall a bitter
smell.
       The commotion quickly spread outwards but both Blaise and Millicent were
frozen, their eyes wide as they continued to stare into the boxes. Of course,
such commotion attracted attention, and Dumbledore, Snape and Minerva were soon
pushing their way through the students to discover what was wrong.
       Snape at least acted quickly when he saw what was wrong, flicking the
boxes closed and shaking both students out of the trance that had held them,
but then he had known exactly who the bloody heads, with expressions frozen in
terror had belonged to. He looked up and for an instant black eyes met emerald
and Harry gave a small regal nod to indicate that he knew before he reversed
his mind set, letting his innocent shade out to attest to his innocence. Let
Severus wonder.
       "I think we will need some pep'up potion" Dumbledore was saying.
       "With all due respect, Headmaster, I think we'll need something stronger
than that," Snape objected.
       "Certainly," Albus said, his eyes both sympathetic and hard. "But not
just yet. We need to know what happened. For the moment though," he raised his
voice, addressing the Hall, "I believe those students who have classes should
attend them, while those who have study time should go to the Library or their
Common Rooms as it pleases them. And the fifth years should gather in the
antechamber while the Hall is set up for their OWL."
       "Surely not!" Minerva objected.
       "I'm afraid so, my dear," Dumbledore said evenly. "It's for the best.
Both Miss Bulstrode and Mr Zabini though will be excused to take this OWL at a
later date. The others though..." he looked around, deliberately smiling in a
grandfatherly manner, "Chop, chop! You can't hang around here all day!"
       There was a reluctant grumble as the students were herded from the Hall.
Out of morbid curiosity most had wanted to see what had caused the commotion
although there was whispering within the students and the news spread like
wildfire.
       Harry got up with the others and looked at both Ron and Hermione. They
were both pale, not understanding the true story behind this, they did not know
how it could not be them and were no doubt thinking about how they could be
attacked through him. If the Dark Lord was striking his allies, how much more
brutal would he be to his enemies, and everyone knew Harry was his number one
enemy and if he couldn't get to Harry, the Serpent Lord would not doubt settle
for them. :Make sure they are calm for their OWLs, will you?: Harry instructed.
       :Do it yourself.:
       :I can't. Any charm I cast on them will be removed as they walk into the
room by the anti-cheating charms.:
       :All right.: the shadows grumbled.
       :You said I will need followers, so I still need them.:
       :We know, we know, we aren't upset with you Master. We were just hoping
that Dumbledore would make those two sit through their OWL's.:
       :No such luck,: Harry lamented with them, casting one eye back to where
Snape was rather awkwardly trying to comfort Blaise. It was almost hysterical.
He turned back towards Ron and Hermione. "Hey, guys, relax! You'll do fine," he
said with a smile.
       "Thanks Harry," Hermione said, and he could see that she was struggling
not to speak further as she tried to concentrate on matters at hand.
       "Hey, mate..." Ron said softly, uncertainly. He was trying to pay
attention but it was obvious that he was thinking about what had just happened.
They didn't know exactly what had been in the boxes, although rumours were
already rife, but they knew enough to know that somehow the Dark Lord had been
involved and that now both Slytherins were orphans.
       "It will be okay, Ron," Harry said reassuringly. "You'll see. Your
parents are careful, he won't get them."
       Ron nodded, his eyes still worried.
       "Just concentrate on today," Harry murmured to him. "It will be okay, I
promise."
       "Thanks," Ron smiled wanly.
       "Hey! I know about these things!" Harry laughed, although it was a
little forced in an effort to make everything seem okay and he placed his hand
comfortingly on both their shoulders as he turned to leave. "Good luck!" He
said as he walked out, heading towards the common room as the shadows slipped
around his friends, warm and comforting.
===
       'Touch what is precious to me, and I will take what is precious to you.
Your days are numbered.'
       That's what both notes within the parcels had said when addressed to the
two children. Albus looked down at the new parchments. The two notes that had
accompanied the grisly remains had morphed themselves into letters for him once
he had touched them, much like Harry's had. Like that letter this one was
written in tiny spidery script but unlike it this one seemed happy, the
brooding anger was absent.
       It was the happiness that bothered him the most even though he knew the
Dark Lord had reason for it at the moment.
       Dumbledore,
       You are good at reading other people's mail, aren't you? So be it. As
I'm sure you have surmised, these are the two who dared to touch what is mine.
I know you know what happened, I also know he has not revealed that information
to you for fear I would attack them. He is far too protective of others for his
own good. I did not take this information from him either, he kept that hidden
within himself, which was most frustrating.
       These two were involved with Lucius' Rebellion. Malfoy Senior is still
alive, in case you are worried. He probably will be alive for quite some time
yet. How much he appreciates that life though is another question that has
little bearing on this.
       In an attempt to buy their lives they revealed their brats' actions to
me, thinking it would please me. A mistake, I assure you, I gave them plenty of
time to reflect upon. I'm sure their brats are only beginning to see the
magnitude of their actions. They will understand fully before I'm through with
them.
       Do your job Old Man, and keep what is mine safe by training him to use
the knowledge I have given him. If you train him well enough, I might find it
within myself to finish you quickly. I doubt it though, since you have caused
me far to much pain for me show you that much mercy. Hmm, I wonder if my
treasure is loyal enough to beg me to show you mercy? I think I would enjoy
that.
       You will see the other Death Eaters who betrayed me from time to time.
I'm finding that they have all sorts of uses and it is so much easier to
recruit allies when you have a ready supply of sacrifices to give to them.
       I wish you luck with the Ministry, Old Man. You are going to need it and
I will find it much more pleasurable if there is some challenge in the battle.
You and I both know how close it was, and while such ease is pleasurable; I
always did like a challenge more.
       Don't let that distract you, Old Man. You have one task before you die
and one task only. Keep what is mine safe. I wish to partake of his sweetness
again and will enjoy his cries when he knows this time, that there is truly no
hope.
       LV
       Oh yes, Tom was unaccountably happy, although Dumbledore was almost
certain that nothing serious had occurred. Both Miss Bulstrode and Mr Zabini
were in the infirmary, being attended to by Poppy and he had placed charms on
them to alert him should they try to run. From the sounds of things, they
weren't as innocent as they appeared although he couldn't really take a Dark
Lord's letter as proof. Maybe now though, Harry would feel comfortable talking
about it... If last night was any indication... He might be ready.
       If those two had truly raped Harry, then they were unquestionably the
one's responsible for the death of Mundungus and indirectly for the Minister.
For if they had not hurt Harry, then the Dark Lord would have felt no need to
come to see him. He couldn't hold them responsible for those deaths though they
might have raped Harry, which had brought Tom to Hogwarts, but it had been the
Dark Lord's choice to kill, but he could see to it that they were charged with
the sexual abuse and attack of a fellow student and that they were expelled
from Hogwarts.
       After that, he was honest enough to admit that he didn't really care
what happened to them. No doubt Tom would send some loyal Death Eaters after
them but somehow he couldn't bring himself to care. Those two were responsible
for the near destruction of the only weapon they had to fight the Dark Lord.
They did not deserve the mercy of the Light.
       Maybe he could...
       No.
       If he stepped over that line then there would be no difference between
him and Tom. He may not feel the need to protect them, but he was not going to
give them up on a platter to the Dark Lord, no matter how much that might
forward Severus' position.
       He sighed. He really did need to speak with the Slytherin House Head.
       Later, Albus decided. Later.
       For now, he would attend with the situations as they arose. There was
nothing more he could do.
===
       Harry settled himself into the alcove. It was on a corridor that was out
of the way. The arching windows up high let in air and light giving the whole
corridor a light feel. It was wonderfully airy, warm but still cool in summer.
It felt like it was outside, even though it was protected from the elements.
Not many students ever came here. Draco did though, when he wanted to be alone.
       He figured that the Slytherin would want to be alone, at least for a
little while after his OWL, especially with what had happened this morning. Of
course, Harry wasn't going to let him be alone. They had issues which they
needed to discuss.
       He smiled as he heard footsteps and heard the blond muttering softly to
himself. It was amusing. "Stupid Potter, stupid Dumbledore! What are they
planning... Stupid OWLs, damn stupid girl squealing! I swear I can still hear
it... But what is Father doing?"
       "He's dying," Harry said as he stepped forward, into Draco's pacing
line.
       The blond pulled up sharply, his eyes wide.
       "Of course, he's doing a bad job of it," Harry continued. "And it will
probably take him all year to die but your father is in no position to do
anything at the moment."
       "You're lying!" Draco hissed.
       "Am I?" Emerald eyes narrowed. "Your precious family Noitaniur Charm
didn't even scratch the Dark Lord. I was there, you know."
       "You are dead! You aren't Harry! You don't even look like him!" Draco
objected, still hissing in an effort to keep his voice down.
       "Ah," Harry smiled. "Silencias," he cast the charm. "Is that better?" He
asked. "Now we can talk privately."
       "I have nothing to say to you."
       "Really? Well, I have plenty of things to say to you."
       "Why should I listen to someone who's just a pawn in Dumbledore's game?"
       "I never thought you were this stupid Draco!"
       "I killed you!"
       "I know."
       Draco froze, grey eyes opened wide.
       "You killed me, Draco, never doubt that because it is true. I jumped in
front of the curse to save my Godfather. But," Harry said the word forcefully,
"the Dark Lord used the same curse on me when I was a child and it didn't work.
What arrogance do you possess that you would think yours would be more
effective?"
       He paused but there was no answer forthcoming from the blond. "I did not
die, Draco and the reason no one is after you for attempted murder is that I
spent a lot of energy casting obliviate charms. I find it amusing to think that
you thought an illusion of yourself sitting in your common room would hold up
against a body, if you truly had killed me. I thought you planned better than
that."
       "Why?" Draco ground the word out, swallowing as he glared at the black
haired boy. He made no move towards his wand as emerald eyes had never left him
and he could see the tip of Harry's protruding slightly past his hand.
       "Because being dead would be too difficult, but being kidnapped suited
me. You are one of the few who truly remembers what happened and you are the
only one with access to some other information I'm sure your Father told you.
Think about it. Read between the lines as it were."
       Harry watched as Draco's face contorted with thought. He could see the
wheels turning behind those grey eyes as the boy tried to pull all the
information he possessed into a whole understanding. He saw the exact moment
the truth dawned upon the blond and snorted as the expression changed from
thought to nothing as shock coursed through his system.
       "That's..." Draco whispered brokenly. "That's not possible."
       "Your Father said the exact same thing."
       "So why are you here?"
       "Because this is the quickest way to win."
       "I won't... I won't help you."
       "I don't want you to."
       "So why are you telling me this?"
       "You are the last of your Father's rebellion, Draco. Those followers you
have will be going back to empty houses over the summer. Some few may yet be
able to join the Dark Lord but by their parents actions I doubt it. Blaise and
Millicent a prime examples."
       "Why are you telling me this?" Draco asked again.
       "Every battle needs someone who knew the truth."
       "No," grey eyes became hard. "I will not play your game."
       "Game?"
       "I will not run to Dumbledore."
       Harry laughed, trusting the shadows to tell him if Draco moved. "Oh god!
That's funny!" He finally choked out, breathing hard. With a practiced move he
unbuttoned his shirt, revealing the tattoo of the phoenix. "I am a member of
the Order of the Phoenix, Draco. Dumbledore will not believe you."
       Draco gasped, the air whistling through his teeth as he saw the almost
living tattoo. "Why are you telling me?" He asked, his voice soft with
anticipation. He knew, somehow that he didn't really want to know the answer.
       "Because," Harry said evenly, as he re-buttoned his shirt, drawing his
robes around himself securely. "As pathetic as your attempts may be, I do
expect you to fight. Unless of course you'd like to give up now and let me
attend to it?"
       Draco took a step back, shaking his head.
       "You chose to enter this battle without knowing the truth Draco, now you
must face the consequences. You are nothing more than a worm, wriggling on a
hook but don't disappoint me, Draco," Harry smiled as he withdrew the silencing
charm, looking over at the still shell-shocked blond.
       "Have a nice summer," he added as he began to walk down the corridor.
       "Potter!" Draco whispered but Harry heard.
       "Hm?"
       "This is not over yet," the grey eyed boy snarled. "This is not over
yet."
       "I would be disappointed if it was," Harry returned evenly. "Oh... one
last thing Draco."
       "What?"
       "Solmemorate!" He grinned as he cast the charm. "I don't mind that you
remember what you've learned, but I really don't want you spreading it around.
It would get too messy, you understand, and it really would be too easy for
you!"
===
       Voldemort looked at the map. It showed a small Ministry building, one
that was placed in the centre of Muggle buildings. In the greater scheme of
things, it was worth nothing. It had no tactical importance, could not be used
as a breach head and contained no documents or people of any import. Well, not
to the Ministry... although they didn't know it yet.
       But he was going to attack it. And he was going to level it completely.
       Because doing so would give his forces confidence and doing so would
show that he was still a force to be reckoned with.
       It would also allow him to gauge the speed and strength of the
Ministry's response to attacks, now that they had supposedly improved security.
And it would allow him to illustrate the potential for a new world order via
the reporter from that insipid paper.
       Two red masked Death Eaters apparated into the room, the unconscious
form of the afore mentioned reporter slung between them.
       "Good timing," Voldemort purred. "Put him in the chair and then go."
       They nodded, dragging Mr Bryant to the overstuffed arm chair in the
corner and then with bows towards their Lord they apparated again, leaving the
two of them alone.
       The Dark Lord looked around once more, making sure everything was
perfect before he smiled, taking his own seat, flicking an Enverneate charm
towards Elliot.
       It was time for Mr Bryant to start earning his keep.
===
       Elliot groaned and looked around as he came to. The last thing he
remembered was saying good bye to the Head Editor and skipping out the door in
anticipation of a fine meal curtesy of Madam Rosetta at the Hogs Head before he
went to see Dumbledore about the next phase of advertising for the Order. It
had been going well. He'd managed to get a laudatory comment about the Order
into just about every major article he'd written and with just a little more
pushing the Ministry would have be forced by general public support to ask the
Order for help.
       He'd been heading towards 'The Burly Gryphon' to flu over to Hogsmead
since he didn't feel like apparating but he hadn't gotten very far before
something had stuck him from behind and he'd pitched forward, reaching for his
wand but finding himself unable to move. Then everything had gone black until
now.
       Where ever he was, it was high class he decided. The walls were a rich
brown, mahogany perhaps, or maybe stained turpentine and the panels were fitted
together smoothly and carved with what he recognised to be expert workmanship.
The chair he was sitting in, unrestrained, he realised with a small jolt of
relief was soft, but still supporting and it seemed to radiate warmth. There
were several shelves and they were occupied by leather bound books or by a few
wizarding curios. A coat of arms, bearing the Slytherin crest was on the wall
above the mantle, two well-oiled and very sharp looking swords were crossed
behind it. A cheery fire burnt there and a small stack of wood was beside the
hearth next to the ivory handled fire set.
       There was a table in the centre of the room, with a illusionary map on
it. He didn't recognise the depiction but one of the buildings was burning and
with a start, Elliot drew back from the tiny Deaths Head with Serpent Tongue
hovering over it.
       "It hasn't happened yet." A rich smooth voice came from the side.
       Bryant froze. He didn't recognise the voice but he rather thought he
knew who it was. With a suppressed shudder he turned slowly to look at the
other being who was sitting calm and relaxed in the other chair.
       "Welcome," the Dark Lord said with a ghastly smile, "to my home."
       "No." The word was instinctive and he felt his bladder loosen in fear.
He remained controlled though.
       "Ah," Voldemort seemed to laugh. "One that does not scream but who
denies," he said lightly. "I assure you Mr Bryant, this is my home, or part
thereof."
       Elliot gulped and tried to force his pounding heart to go at a more
normal rate as he tried to consider the situation logically. He'd been on his
way to see Dumbledore and now he was in front of the Dark Lord, unrestrained,
in what he was claiming to be his home...
       Right, that was logical.
       "I assure you, Mr Bryant that if I wanted you dead, you wouldn't have
woken up and if I wanted you tortured, you would have awoken in more suitable
surroundings. I simply wish to speak with you, Mr Bryant. Nothing more. After
that, I'm afraid, I will have to knock you out again, but you will wake up this
time... I think at The Leaky Cauldron."
       The Dark Lord, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named just wanted to talk.
       Adrenaline pounded through his system.
       That was even more logical.
       Not.
       "Why?" His reporter instincts kicked in.
       "Don't you think the wizarding world deserves to hear my side of the
story?" The Dark Lord returned.
       "Your side of the story? What is there to tell?" Elliot scoffed.
       "A great deal more than you think. And I will tell you, unless of course
you'd prefer I tell some other reporter..? Perhaps someone from The Enquirer
would be better suited for this."
       "No! No," Elliot gulped again, surprised at his own audacity in arguing
with the Dark Lord. "I will listen," he added.
       "Good, although Mr Bryant, this is a one-time opportunity for you, feel
free to ask questions. I do not promise to answer them all, but I do give you
my word that I will not kill you for the asking. Ask anything Mr Bryant, ask
even those that can't be reported but that the Order will want to know."
Voldemort smiled as Elliot's eyes opened wide.
       "How do you know?" He whispered.
       He laughed, the sound rich and strong. "It is my job to know," he
paused. "Now, do you need a recording device?" He offered.
       "No," Elliot shook his head as he began patting down his pockets. His
wand would be here somewhere.
       "On the table to your left," the Dark Lord instructed coldly and he
looked over to see the Dark Lord's wand levelled at him. "Precautions, you
understand."
       Elliot nodded and very slowly reached over to place one finger on his
wand. He stuttered the charm a few times but eventually managed to get the word
out. His wand glowed as the charm activated and he equally carefully pulled
back his hand. The Dark Lord only lowered his wand once he was settled again
although he could see the tip of it under white hands and couldn't hold back a
shudder.
       "All right," Elliot said softly, trying to get his mind into working
order as he tried both to not think about the situation and to think about
those questions that would reveal the most information, both for the paper and
the Order because he knew he did not have unlimited time. "I'll start with the
easy things," he said, falling into at least the initial routine of an
interview, "just for the record and then we'll move on."
       "Certainly."
       "Who are you?"
       "I am Lord Voldemort."
       "What do you want?"
       "I want to rule wizarding society."
       "And the Muggles?"
       "Wizarding society first, then we can move towards taking our rightful
place as the rulers of the Muggles. Even I know that a fractured wizarding
society could not dominate the Muggles."
       "So what are your thoughts on the Wizarding Edicts that call for
secrecy?"
       "Archaic pieces of legislation that might have been necessary at the
time they were made but are now enforced from habit by weak minded and pathetic
individuals who fail to see the whole."
       "Why do you want this?"
       "Because when I was a child, I learnt the truth of the world. This is
the only truth of the world and it applies to both humans and animals. Those
who are strong rule. It is that simple. Those who are strong, physically,
intellectually, magically, it does not matter how, dominate over those who are
weak.
       "Those wizards and witches among us who are strongest should rule, and
in turn, they should lead our society, which is stronger into domination over
the weaker Muggles. There is no need to cower in fear from those who are
inferior, but that is what we are doing. And in our secrecy were are giving
them power over us.
       "I want us to once more take our rightful place."
       "What of those you call Mudbloods?"
       The Dark Lord smiled. "They are magical," he said smoothly. "They might
be born of Muggles but they are magical beings and thus according to their
power levels, they deserve to be trained and treated no differently from any
other magical being.
       "Make no mistake. It is all about strength. Old wizarding lines that
lack strength should not be revered simply because they are old but should be
replaced by fresh new blood that has power."
       "So why didn't you join the Ministry and work for change from within?"
Elliot asked.
       Ruby eyes flashed. "Because I learnt in school that the current
administration is not interested in justice or truth. They are interested in
what they perceive to be the truth and they are locked into that view."
       "You were disappointed in them?" Elliot continued carefully, testing the
waters as he tried to determine what the Dark Lord meant. There was more with
his previous sentence than what he said. He could feel it.
       "I was betrayed," the answer came back flatly, "by one who had no right
to doubt me."
       "Forgive me, but most wizards would doubt your word."
       The Dark Lord hissed, turning sharply towards the fire. "This was at a
time when I was still a child," he said forcefully. "He had no right to doubt
me, and had the responsibility to attend to my welfare."
       "What happened?"
       "That, I will not answer."
       Elliot nodded and did not push the issue. "Who betrayed you?"
       "The one you see as your saviour, Albus Dumbledore. Even when I was a
child, he considered me evil. A fine consideration for one who's neglect forced
me to this path."
       "Albus Dumbledore? The current Headmaster of Hogwarts?"
       "Yes."
       "What did he do?"
       "He did not believe me. At a time when I was a child, when I was weak,
he did not believe me."
       "So your entire battle is with Albus Dumbledore?"
       "If that was the case I would have killed the old fool and be done with
it. No, he is but a symptom of the system, a symptom that claimed to know
better but when the time came could not see past his preconceived ideas."
       "But according to your beliefs that the strong rule the weak, why should
Albus Dumbledore, at a time, when you have just admitted that you were weak,
listen and support your cause?" Elliot was surprised at his own question and
forced himself not to tremble as he imagined the searing pain of the Cruciatus
Curse upon him.
       "A logical question," Voldemort seemed to smile, amused. "While it is
true that the strong should rule, it is equally true that they have some
responsibility to those beneath them. Children especially are vulnerable and
that is what some strength should be spent on, protecting those who are not yet
old enough to protect themselves.
       "You might find it strange that I do believe that children should have a
childhood. They should not be spoilt but there should be time when they are
allowed to play, grow and develop as they will. Until they come of age and come
into their full power, they should be awarded certain protections. They can
forfeit said protection. Children are not sacrosanct but there is some small
protection owed to the young even by those who are strong. This is the
protection given to a child by a parent. Of course those children who are
orphaned have to develop their own protections faster.
       "There are some crimes even I find abhorrent and the perpetrators should
be punished with all possible force. It is these crimes that all children
should be protected from. All else, the strong rule the weak."
       Elliot frowned but shifted his line of questioning as his reporter side
told him he would get not further useful information apart from the Dark Lord's
twisted logic. "When was the first time you discovered you had the gift of
parseltongue?"
       The Dark Lord smiled and Elliot was horrified to note that it seemed
truly happy. "When I was four, I was in the field behind the orphanage I grew
up in. The grass was long, it was summer and the older children had thrown
their ball out of bounds and disturbed a small grass snake. It was crawling
away, muttering to itself," the Dark Lord laughed at the memory, a happy
chuckle. "I thought I was hearing things, or that one of the other children was
cursing, the little thing had quite a mouth, until I saw it, and then I just
said hello. I was quite surprised when it spoke back!
       "This was at a time when I was learning that I could do things the other
children could not. I was using the wild magic around me and like all children
that age, I needed a friend. He was very good to me."
       "So what happened to him?"
       The Dark Lord sighed as he looked to the roof. "I think he got eaten by
a hawk," he said easily, enjoying the shocked expression on Elliot's face. "One
day he was just not there, so I assume something managed to catch and eat him.
I cried but that was just a practical application of what I knew. The strong
survive. My little friend was not weak, but he was not the strongest, I knew
that, so I was not overly upset but I did resolve to be the strongest I could
be so that if ever I was to be caught and eaten, I would at least put up a
fight."
       "There have been some times when you have been noted to spare very young
children, leaving them orphaned but alive. Is there a reason for this?"
       "But I can be a fox who kills just for the pleasure. There are many more
I have not spared," the Dark Lord admitted, his blood red eyes glowing. "It is
simple. The young are still learning, still discovering their strengths, and
they should be nurtured while they grow. They still need to accept the
consequences of their actions but they should not be attacked with the full
force I would direct at an adult. Humans, like basilisks, are a species that
nurture their children, not even I am devoid of that urge completely."
       "But you attacked Harry Potter when he was nothing more than a babe in
swaddling cloths."
       "I can be a fox who kills just for the pleasure," the Dark Lord repeated
before he sighed. "If you were a basilisk, and knowing that the cry of a
rooster can kill you, you had the opportunity to kill the chick, wouldn't you
take that opportunity?
       Elliot frowned. He could see the logic but didn't want to speak and
motioned that the Dark Lord should continue. His point was made though.
       "Make no mistake, Mr Potter has never been a child and of all wizards he
is the only one with enough power to fight me. I am a basilisk at heart, and
for me, he is the rooster. I simply struck before the rooster could develop his
cry."
       "So what of your belief awarding children some protection?"
       "Young Harry has never been a child. And such protection was given to
him by his parents. However, the strong still rule the weak. I am strong, and
this was the course I chose. I owed Mr Potter no protection for he had not yet
suffered from those crimes I believe children should be protected from. My
strike was merciful and just."
       "What happened fifteen years ago, then? There are a lot of rumours, and
stories and of the only two people who could tell, Mr Potter is too young to
truly remember, and no one's really been in a position to ask you."
       Voldemort gave a rich laugh, reaching one long fingered hand to stroke
his chin. "October 31st..." he murmured. "I remember it well." His eyes became
shaded with thought before he continued. "As you know, I was gaining strength
and followers with prodigious haste then. Had that continued, it would have
been over within the year. But always there were those that opposed me. Your
Order of the Phoenix was rather prominent there. The Potters, the Longbottoms,
the Parvatis, Black, Lupin... the list seems endless.
       "I always knew James Potter was a very dangerous wizard. Powerful, wise
and ingenious with his charms. Teamed up with his wife, they took down any
number of my servants, servants who should never have fallen. Then I discovered
that James only wielded a part of his Gryffindor heritage and that his son
would develop the full powers of Gryffindor. Coupled with my desire to destroy
what had become a very annoying team of Aurors, this new information spurred me
to act.
       "The Fidelus Charm..." the Dark Lord mused. "I must say, that was a
wonderful piece of deception, having Pettrigrew cast it. Had the rat been true,
I would have believed either Black or Dumbledore to be the Secret Keeper and
gone after them both. But as you now know, the rat was mine so it was a simple
thing to determine their location.
       "I chose a night when my powers were at their strongest. Even though it
should not have been possible, somehow they sensed me coming. I do believe they
would have run, and if I had moved slower, they would have gotten away. As it
was, James stayed to try to buy time for Lily to get away, but that was
something she was wise enough to know couldn't happen.
       "He fought me. He fought me very bravely and very skilfully, and had he
wielded the full power of his blood it might have come out differently. He
didn't though, and while he did wound me, it was not enough. Very brave, very
courageous, a true Gryffindor.
       "Lily knew he was dead. I think she knew the moment his body hit the
floor. She didn't cry though, or if she did I saw no tears. She waited for me,
up in the nursery. She'd already placed a shield charm on Harry and was
standing before it. I didn't even open the door before she started casting. Her
husband might have had the raw power of Gryffindor but she had skill.
       "Thinking back, the two of them stood up to me with more courage and
skill that anyone, bar their son, ever had or has. I still remember both duels
against them as being two of the hardest I have ever fought. In the end though,
skill was not enough, and though I did not know it then, she used the last of
her life force to cast another shield...
       "No... it wasn't another shield. I don't think whatever Lily cast has a
name because it was a purely elemental charm. Protection and love all rolled
into one nameless energy.
       "And then I saw him, young Harry Potter. Those emerald eyes looked up at
me and he wasn't afraid. He knew what had happened and he wasn't afraid. I
think that's why I decided to cast Avada Kedavra on him. I wanted to see his
fear as a charm the colour of his eyes took his life, or maybe I just wanted to
finish the family off with the one curse.
       "I cast the curse, and there was a tremendous flash of light as the
elemental magic took effect. I'll admit, not even I'm sure what exactly
happened. The only thing I really know is that it hurt, and I'm sure it didn't
work quite the way Lily intended because I did not die. Or maybe it did. No one
will ever know what she really intended. Possibly some of my immortality charms
took effect...
       "My body was destroyed and my soul was freed to roam unhindered.
       "In that one moment, at that singular point in time, I find it amusing
to think that a woman who was dead was the strongest witch, for with her death
she surpassed us all.
       "The elemental magic could only work with Harry's magic and as the
energy was drained from him he began crying. The death of both parents didn't
faze him, the killing curse didn't cause a whimper, only the draining of his
magic made him cry. Heh... I would have struck him, even in spiritual form but
then young Sirius Black arrived, followed by that half human oaf and while I
was still livid with rage, I decided it best if I withdrew. Neither of them
could hurt me in spirit form but Dumbledore could have." The Dark Lord grinned.
"Lucky for me he didn't want to see the dead."
       Elliot nodded, glancing over to his wand to make sure it was still
recording. "So what happened last year? Fifteen years ago you lost your
corporeal form but yet you are sitting before me. How is that possible?"
       "While Lily Potter's last magic, combined with her son's energy reduced
me to a mere spirit, I was still alive. I could still plan and act, very weakly
with the corporeal world. It took thirteen years for me to gather enough energy
to recreate a body, and even then I could not do it alone. It took the
sacrifice of my loyal servant Nagini for me to accomplish it. She did not
sacrifice herself, she sacrificed her children. From their flesh I could create
the simulacrum of a human form but it was as small and as weak as baby.
       "The rat took care of my child form while I regathered the strength to
advance. That took another year both to regain the strength and to gather the
ingredients required. Wormtail was never a servant who could hold his nerve.
The final ingredient required was Mr Potter's blood.
       "The names of the rituals I used to reconstitute my body will not mean a
thing to you because most of them are not named. I created them. I had many
years to learn while in spirit form, many years to think and determine the best
way of doing it."
       "And so close to a year after your resurrection you and your forces made
a bid to take over," Elliot summarised. "You were stopped though, by Rebellion.
We already know what happened then but who were the two who helped you after
Lucius cast Avada Kedavra on you?"
       "I would suggest you not make this information public knowledge, Mr
Bryant. I will tell you for the Order. The shadows do not always obey the Dark
Lord. Grindlewald knew nothing of them but they revealed themselves to me.
Those two... the little one is a personal servant," the Dark Lord grinned
licentiously. "The other is a more adult manifestation of their power. I
believe he was a wizard at some stage but one they have now taken over so
completely that he is simply an extension of them."
       "They brought you back to life?"
       "The shadows did, yes, but I was never truly dead. Vampire blood, from
those that are old enough, is most potent. Xeoaph's presence in the battle
should have made it clear which vampire I took blood from."
       "Is Lucius alive?"
       "For now. And for the Order, those Muggles who hurt Harry are still
alive... most of them anyway."
       Elliot nodded. "So what do you plan now?"
       "Now?" Voldemort sighed. "Now I intend to fight. I will win it all. You
can try to stop me but I you will not be able to. I will enjoy the attempt
though. And then I will rule it all, with Harry as my consort."
       "Dumbledore was telling the truth with that?" Elliot gulped. Somehow he
hadn't quite been able to truly believe that.
       "He told you?" The Dark Lord's eyes glittered with mirth. "Yes, I no
longer fear the rooster. He will fight me, no doubt but I will enjoy breaking
him to my will."
       "You're sick."
       "No, I simply have the power to do what I want. I told you, there is one
rule which governs this world. Those who are strong rule. It is simply an
extension of that. Those who are strong may do what they please. And he pleases
me." The Dark Lord waved his hand, extending his magic to cancel the recording
charm as he rose. "Come. It is time for you to learn truly that I am a viable
alternative to the Ministry. Then I will let you go, so that you may tell the
world."
       Elliot swallowed hard, his eyes wide as he looked at the serpentine man
before him. Just talking he'd been charming, unthreatening but now he radiated
menace, the magic gathering around him in almost tangible waves. He tried to
stand but found his stomach churning and his knees felt weak. Harry had gone up
against this? His parents had? It wasn't possible.
       A long fingered hand reached out and hauled him up with inhuman
strength. "Never forget what I am," Voldemort snarled. "Now, come, I have a
Ministry building to destroy."
 
 
***** What is Right *****
Weapon
Chapter 6 What is Right
===
       Elliot shivered and fought to hold back the whimpers. He'd prided
himself on being a proud member of the Order of the Phoenix, of being able to
fight, to duel maybe not brilliantly but adequately when necessary and in his
reporting for the Daily Prophet, he'd prided himself on being able to face all
- good and bad - that wizards could offer.
       He was wrong.
       The Dark Lord had dragged him through the shifting corridors of his
stronghold. It had been a confusing mass of colour and there was no way he
could have navigated it alone. It seemed there had been red masked Death Eaters
at every junction and they had all fallen into line behind their Lord, moving
silently. They'd emerged into a court yard where further Death Eaters waited,
all red masked and silent. Serpents, too many to count had been gathered in a
corner in one writhing mass. Behind them, strangely still but chillingly in
their presence was a small group of Dementors.
       The Dark Lord had released him then, pinning him in place with no more
than a half glance as he'd stepped forward to address his children. Elliot
didn't remember much of the speech. It had been a coldly logical address though
and the battle plan had been laid out with callous precision. There had been no
cheering, not excesses, nothing anyone associated with the dark forces.
       They'd deployed silently, leaving their Lord alone. He'd flicked a charm
at the gathered serpents after hissing a few words at them. They'd sorted
themselves into some order but Elliot wasn't sure what they'd been called upon
to do. The Dementors had bowed at him and then retreated back into the castle.
       Once everyone and everything was deployed the Dark Lord had cast a
further charm on himself, transfiguring his robes into heavy red velvet. Elliot
wasn't sure was else he did with the transfiguration but he knew it was
something. The Dark Lord had seemed powerful before the transfiguration, now he
seemed invincible. With that, the long fingered hand had reached out again,
grabbing him and there had been a pulse of power as the Dark Lord apparated.
       Straight into hell.
       That had been Elliot's first thought as he tried to look around the
battle. He'd thought they were going to take a building, but this wasn't a
building. This was open combat. There were small groups of wizards facing off
against Death Eaters and waves of magic pulsed back and forth over the field.
He looked up at the imposing visage of the Dark Lord but He-Who-Must-Not-Be-
Named was simply raking red eyes over the entire field, his expression stoic as
he took in the results of his orders.
       With a flourish of red robes the Dark Lord had stepped forward, casting
charms with an accuracy that was hard to imagine. Elliot was vaguely aware of
two red masked Death Eaters, descending upon him, strangely calm and collected
within the chaos as they dragged him after their Master.
       Bryant had stopped trying to fight the movement then, and allowed
himself to be directed amidst the carnage, his legs just supporting him as the
two Death Eaters wove their way through everything. He was defenceless, his
wand was back on the table in that other room and even if he could have grabbed
a wand from one of the fallen there was nothing he could do.
       Above them a mottled dome was in place and Bryant felt his eyes widen as
he recognised what it was. Displacement magic. It seemed incongruous that the
Dark Lord would bother with such precaution: when did he care about the
knowledge of Muggles? But he was the only one who could have cast such a large
shield. The Ministry building and all within the shield would remain separate
from the outside world until he, or someone else took the shield down. And the
Muggles would know nothing! He gulped, watching the Dark Lord, confused. Had he
truly been telling the truth about not caring, yet, about ruling the Muggles?
       Elliot shook his head at the question before he re-focused his attention
on the red robed Dark Lord. He had other things to consider now. He remembered
the fear of the previous war but he hadn't been old enough to fight and there
had only been rumours about You-Know-Who's prowess. He gulped as he realised
the situation had not been understated.
       Charms and curses were cast with the minimum amount of movement and it
seemed for most spells he didn't even bother with the correct wand motion. His
targeting was unerringly accurate and as Elliot watched several groups of
wizards were taken out with a few well-placed curses. But as he watched he
noticed something peculiar.
       The Dark Lord never attacked anyone within at least a twenty foot radius
of himself. As several more groups fell, Elliot gulped as he understood the
reasoning.
       The small groups of wizards knew they had been attacked as soon as the
first curse or charm broke within them and they then began searching for the
perpetrator but in a battle such as this, where the combatants were always in
motion it was difficult and they invariably looked towards the closest Death
Eaters first. Once they confirmed that the attack hadn't come from them, in
fact they were still accurately shielding against any close groups of Death
Eaters, they began searching a wider radius for their attacker, and by then it
was too late.
       A few groups had managed to identify their attacker, and their eyes had
widened in fear but that was only an instant before the final curse took
effect. Elliot blinked back tears as he watched the fluid movements of the
serpentine man. The rumours were true, every last one of them. He was truly a
god of battle.
       The Dark Lord glanced at the ground and hissed a few words to the
serpent there before he turned with a smile towards the reporter. "It is nearly
over," he reassured him, flicking a curse over the man's head at the wizard
which was approaching from the rear. "They were slightly more ingenious with
their defences than I thought," he said conversationally and Elliot couldn't
help but notice the pleased smirk that appeared in the Dark Lord's voice. "What
have you learnt, Bryant?"
       "What is there to learn but the proof of your cruelty, your ability to
destroy?"
       Voldemort shook his head. "For a reporter, you see, but you do not see.
A typical trait for one of the Order, I will admit, but one I had hoped the Old
Man might have made some effort to weed out. Look around you."
       Elliot looked again. He tried not to focus on the few battles still
being waged, knowing that they would be over soon but looked towards the
outskirts of the battle ground. Several Death Eaters were bent over other
wizards, their wands in hand, and for a moment he thought that they were
delivering the killing blow, until he noticed the soft violet haze of the
magic, and gentle manner that other Death Eaters levitated their injured
colleagues with before they apparated away. There were other Death Eaters
moving through the injured but they were attending to the wizards. "H...
healers?" He blurted disbelievingly.
       The Dark Lord looked smug. "I do care for my own," he said coldly before
he turned away again, leaving the reporter to his even more confused thoughts.
       Bryant shook his head. It isn't possible. The thought would not go away
as he struggled to breath around the shock coursing through his system.
       A small group of Death Eaters formed up and entered the building they
had been assigned to attack, an escort of serpents surrounding them.
       He looked around further and sure enough most of the groups of wizards,
those that were still conscious or alive were dropping their wands and being
rounded up by the Death Eaters. They were being searched and other weapons and
back up wands were being removed with swift efficiency before they were
gathered into a singular group. The red masked Death Eaters made a perimeter
around them, wands levelled and in plain sight. Several serpents wove their way
around and through the wizards, their tongues continually testing the air as
they sniffed out any potions or weapons that had not been detected.
       It was all being conducted with quiet efficiency that Elliot knew the
Order would be hard pressed, at least without significant training together, to
duplicate. Only the most elite teams of Aurors or Unspeakables, those what had
been together for years could hope to match the ease of efficiency. Elliot
gulped. They had far more work ahead of them that he had ever believed
possible.
       After another hissed conversation with a serpent, a python this time, he
turned burning red eyes towards the gathered wizards. They were shifting
nervously as the gravity of the situation began to dawn upon them. Not only had
they been defeated but now they were totally at the mercy of the most evil Dark
Lord in memory, and they were completely defenceless. You could see the worry
and the panic begin to dawn in their eyes. They had known it but it had taken a
few moments for the information to really sink in. The cold calculating gaze of
the Dark Lord seemed to have that effect.
       The Death Eaters dragging Elliot dropped him unceremoniously in a
position where he could observe everything and he felt a cold chill run down
his spine. He didn't need to look to know that they had taken a step back and
now had their wands trained upon him.
       "Where is the Deputy Minister for Public Relations?" The voice was quiet
but Bryant wasn't the only one who shivered at the tone and he knew that all
the gathered wizards had heard it.
       "He's... he's... not here." One of the wizards in the front stuttered,
their eyes downcast.
       One black eyebrow raised questioningly and the Dark Lord stepped
forward. Slowly with an imperial air that defied description he reached out one
long fingered hand to place one finger under the wizard's chin to raise their
face to meet his gaze.
       A condescending smirk appeared on his lips and his eyes were half hooded
as he whispered again, ignoring the shaking of the wizard before him. "Where is
the Deputy Minister for Public Relations?" The Dark Lord's voice even pitched
at a whisper was still rich, like velvet but it was infinitely more dangerous.
       The wizard shuddered, shrugging to look away but the Dark Lord help him
firmly. He gulped, not a mean feat against the finger pressed under his chin.
"He's not here."
       There was a collective gasp as a small serpent appeared from the Dark
Lord's sleeve. It inched forward, its tongue flickering. It was marked with
brilliant red and black scales and several of the wizards flinched back as they
realised how poisonous it was. Eventually it reared off the Dark Lord's hand to
look into the wizard's eyes, its coils wrapped around his arm, disappearing
into his sleeve. With a soft hiss and a snap so quiet it shouldn't have been
heard but that seemed deafening its hood opened and it began to weave back and
forth. The threat was obvious.
       "You stink of the lie," Voldemort said easily, his eyes intent. "Where
is the Deputy Minister for Public Relations? I will not ask again."
       The wizard's eyes opened wide as the sheen of sweat covering him
deepened. Tears began streaming down his face and you could see the calculation
in his eyes. To tell, or not to tell. To live or die.
       The Dark Lord looked on impassively. He could see everything but was
unmoved by either the mounting tension or the panic. In fact he seemed to be
radiating pleasure.
       "I..."
       Voldemort raised the wizard's head higher.
       "I... I don't..."
       As the wizard was speaking there came a shout from the building as the
red masked Death Eaters who had stormed it earlier emerged from the door
dragging a prisoner with them.
       The Dark Lord bent low and whispered into the wizard's ear, "Be sure
it's worth it before you die," before he rose and waited for the prisoner to be
brought before him. The cobra had disappeared back into his robes.
       The man kicked and screamed, struggling for all he was worth as the
Death Eaters dragged him towards their Lord. With a casual back hand though,
one of the Death Eaters stunned him briefly and they completed the short
journey quickly, bowing before their Lord. A serpent gave a short hissed report
which caused the Dark Lord to grin, leading most of the wizards to shiver
again.
       "My dear Tidius Moulton," Voldemort greeted the Deputy Minister for
Public Relations easily. "It's been too long." The sense of regal imperialism
had not faded.
       Tidius looked up with wild eyes at the voice but he said nothing as he
shook his head vigorously. Most of the wizards were looking on with shock and
the one that had been questioned by the Dark Lord was shivering uncontrollably
as he realised the truth.
       "Moulton, Moulton, Moulton, you never told them?" Voldemort laughed.
"Well, of course you didn't. The Ministry couldn't have a precious Ministerial
position held by a Death Eater, now could they?"
       "No..." Tidius whispered.
       "You have had over a year to return to me," the Dark Lord said coldly,
his aura of imperial power at full strength, eyes half closed as he looked in
disgust at the man. "I have called numerous times but still you did not answer.
Did you perhaps forget your vow to me?"
       "My Lord... please..." One eye brow raised as the Dark Lord pulled his
chin up.
       "My children..." Tidius sobbed.
       "Will be spared," Voldemort snapped. "You are merely stupid to ignore me
but not suicidal enough to be involved in Lucius' action. Pray though, that
they do not repeat their Father's mistake."
       "Tha...Eargh!" Moulton screamed, his face twisted in horror, limbs
contorted at the Dark Lord's gesture. He retained enough of his mind though to
try to claw at his arm as he writhed in agony. It only took a few moments but
to the watching wizards it seemed to take forever before Tidius' face blackened
and his final breath left him in a rush.
       The Dark Lord disregarded the body as he looked around. "You disagree
with my decision?" He asked Elliot at the reporters horrified** but questioning
look.
       "You killed him!"
       "Of course," Voldemort said matter of factly.
       "There was no reason to kill him."
       "There was every reason to kill him. He swore an oath to me. Your vow to
the Order of the Phoenix is binding for life, why should mine be any
different?"
       Elliot gulped, trying and failing in his attempt not to quail under that
intense gaze as the Dark Lord walked towards him. He opened his mouth to speak
but the words failed him and as he gathered himself to try again, he was
interrupted.
       "Die, traitor!"
       The scream came from one of the red masked Death Eaters who as their
Lord passed by, spun away from his guarding position, drawing a dagger and
driving it towards the Dark Lord's back.
       Elliot blinked. He never even saw the movement and only registered the
concerned cries from the other Death Eaters once it was over. Voldemort moved,
too fast to see, dodging the blow aimed at his unprotected back, somehow
managing to catching the perpetrators arms with his left hand, flipping the man
so that he was suspended, back to the ground, in the Dark Lord's grip. A long
fingered white hand was wrapped around the left side of his chest and as the
mask fell, they could see that the man was grimacing in pain. Blood red eyes
burned intensely as the Dark Lord looked down and his robes fell around him as
they caught up with the movement.
       "I thought you would have known better, Amir," Voldemort murmured.
       Before Amir could respond there was a wet crack and he gulped, gurgling.
The cracking continued and Amir gasped, blood streaming from his mouth. He
tried to scream but choked and his feet tapped a rapid stattaco on the ground
as his eyes bulged. There was the smell of burning and the slick sound of
something wet falling to the ground was heard before the Dark Lord let the body
drop. With an indifferent snap of his hand he flicked the blood from his
fingers, splattering several wizards.
       Elliot wasn't the only one to gag at the sight of the body. The entire
left side of the chest was one bloody mess. Bones protruded through skin and
cloth in a disordered mess. Bubbles were popping softly through the blood and
the flesh was burnt.
       "You're..." Bryant coughed as he struggled to keep his stomach calm. The
Dark Lord had done that all with his bare hands! "You're not human."
       "I never claimed to be," the response came nonchalantly before Voldemort
turned back to the wizards. "You have been utterly defeated, I think that much
is obvious, but I can be merciful." Even the Dark Lord smiled at the irony of
his words, two dead bodies at his feet and the blood still dripping from his
hands. "No matter what you may think, I do not need corpses and so for now, I
will leave. Consider this a warning, for I will not be merciful forever."
       The Dark Lord raised his hands, energy collecting there and despite his
words, the wizards flinched back. He smiled, that ghastly smile that made a
mockery of the word and raised both hands, "Noitaniur," he whispered, loud
enough to be heard as a ball of red energy coalesced in each hand.
       With a lazy flick he sent the first one into the Ministry building. It
burned its way neatly through the wall and for an instant it didn't seem like
there was any damage. Then came the boom and the sound of timber being stressed
and collapsing on itself. Dust began to pour out of the shattered door.
       The other ball of energy was thrown in, although the Dark Lord left his
arm extended, his hand open wide. The second energy ball disappeared into the
dust, but its crash through the walls and internal structure of the building
could be heard.
       With a slow motion Voldemort closed his long fingered hand into a fist.
The noise was incredible and most of the wizards were cringing backwards. The
dust was obscuring everything so they couldn't see what was happening but they
didn't need to.
       Finally the crashing noise ceased and all that could be heard was the
occasional bounce and crunch of small rumble settling. With a wave of his hand
the Dark Lord summoned a wind and drove away the dust to reveal the ruins of
the building
       Plaster and timber rose at odd angles and nothing looked whole.
       "I must remember to thank Lucius for that charm," Voldemort murmured as
he once more made a small gesture before proudly pronouncing the words that
caused the wizards the shudder. The building was bad enough but these words had
been drilled into them to fear for their lives. "Morsmordre!"
       The emerald skull made of stars with its snake tongue rose into the air,
expanding as it moved to hover over the destroyed building. But this time the
skull was different. Emerging from the skulls temples and from a point behind
the serpent's ears, down on its body, made of little black stars were wings.
Like everything else on the mark they were perfectly defined.
       The Dark Lord looked at his hand, flexing his fingers before he smiled
again. "I should have expected that," he said unconcerned at the change in his
symbol.
       "Next time, bow to me or die."
       With that Voldemort nodded towards his forces and as one they vanished.
He raked ruby eyes once more over the still trembling wizards, most of whom
didn't dare breathe before he gave a rich laugh and vanished, the echo of his
mirth lingering in the air.
===
       Elliot quivered, his teeth rattling together loudly as he drew his
blanket around him tighter. It had been three days since the Dark Lord had
attacked, and since then there had been nothing but silence from the dark
forces. His wand had been returned to him. Dumbledore had given it back with a
flourish and a wink to indicate that he had already erased those sections of
the 'interview' that were for the Order only.
       That wasn't bothering him though.
       The memories were.
       He'd managed to convince himself that what he'd seen was only fictional.
A pretty act by the Dark Lord to draw him in, to show him the strength and
speed of the dark forces but now the coroner-wizard report was lying in front
of him and he was remembering everything.
       In the instant after He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named apparated there had been
silence as the gathered wizards looked at each other. They were alive. There
was a general feeling of shock permeating through them. Truly, none of them had
expected it to be over so easily or so painlessly. Most had been making their
peace with God as quietly as they could before he vanished. The wizard the Dark
Lord had questioned shuddered, crawling forward to look at Tidius' body. A
quick check of the pulse confirmed the Deputy Minister's death, before with
shaking hands, the wizard pulled back the left sleeve, rolling it up to past
the elbow.
       "That's not possible!" He hissed as the flung himself backwards.
       Burnt into Moulton's skin, grinning up at them with shocking clarity was
the Death's Head, the snake tongue lolling from bony jaws, undulating down the
Deputy Minister's arm. The Mark itself was black, an intricate tattoo that left
out no detail but the skin around it was burnt red, evidence of the ferocity of
the Dark Lord's strike. Tidius had arched backwards, his body stiff and the
foam on his lips was only now beginning to pop. His whole posture bespoke the
terror he had felt before he died.
       "It's not possible! It's not possible! It's not possible!" The wizard
was whispering as a litany as he shivered badly, rocking back and forth, eyes
staring blankly at the Minister's Dark Mark. "It's not possible, but you're
seeing it," one of the more callous wizards said.
       "It's not possible," another agreed with the first. "Just the other day,
Tidius came in dressed like a Muggle. He had short sleeves on, and we'd have
noticed a Dark Mark. And after the attack we all underwent scans." "I could
have..." the first wizard stuttered, "I was going to..." He gagged. "I was
going to die for him..." Eyes opened wide as the realisation came crashing down
on him. "I was going to..."
       "What did You-Know-Who whisper to you?"
       "He... he told me... No..." the memory brought a new realisation. It was
obvious. With Tidius' execution he should have known but the shock was holding
back his thought processes and it was only now, when the question was asked did
the Dark Lord's amusement make complete sense. He had enjoyed his refusal but
no doubt, somewhere, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was enjoying the aching sickness
the wizard was now feeling. "He told me 'Be sure it's worth it before you
die.'"
       The response brought a shudder from all the gathered wizards. It could
so easily have been them. They would have been sure, they would have been true
to the man they thought was one of the Ministry's finest.
       They would have been dead.
       All for a lie.
       They'd spoken about Moulton's body because it was easier to bear than
the other but slowly their gaze shifted to the Death Eater who had been
identified as Amir. Above them the shimmering dome that was the Dark Lord's
displacement shield began to fade but the Dark Mark still glittered solidly.
They had no idea what the new symbol meant.
       A few of the more astute wizards began to look around, preparing to
obliviate Muggles if required, or to duck if Auror's appeared, charms cast as
they expected the worst. One or two compassionate wizards had begun to move
through the wounded, doing what they could until trained medi-staff appeared.
       But for the most part their attention was beginning to focus on the
Death Eater. If you ignored the left side of his chest, and the pool of blood
spread... no, there was no way you could ignore it. His death had been brutal
in the extreme. Even the justification 'but he was a Death Eater' was
insufficient to justify, to accept the violence of his passing.
       One youngish wizard, less squeamish than the rest approached Amir
slowly. The movement was skittish, as if he expected the man to jump at him at
any moment but curiosity was slowly overwhelming horror. "How did..." you could
hear the frown in his voice, "How did he burn him?"
       Bryant had wondered that at the time... He knew now. The words had been
scribed for all to see. They were now public record and it only scared him
further, they made the inhumanity of the Dark Lord all that more real.
       'Victim suffered extreme blunt force trauma to the left side of the
chest cavity. First thru to the eighth rib were fragmented into multiple
sections. Other ribs fractured severely due to trauma. Right ribs were also
fractured.'
       That was the bit he expected... as were the details of which rib had
punctured the skin, which the lungs and so forth... The coroner-wizard had been
very thorough with his examination. He had refused to estimate the Dark Lord's
grip strength simply because there was not enough evidence. The ribs had been
snapped like twigs so Voldemort was at least that strong. How much more though
was a matter of conjecture.
       Elliot knew that though. He had felt the inhumane strength when He-Who-
Must-Not-Be-Named had gripped his shoulder. It didn't concern him. There were
several potions and charms - Re'em blood was most potent - that could enhance
physical strength and there was always the Muggle way of working out, doing
weights. It was the explanation for the burning that chilled him.
       'Cause of death is indeterminate. Blunt force trauma could have caused
death, however in addition to the visible wounds, victim was suffering from
case of extreme poisoning. Poison was basilisk venom, introduced to the body
via the chest region as evidenced by the severe burning on epidermis and other
tissues.
       'All internal organs showed verification of the poisoning and many have
been destroyed. While the ingression point of the poison is obvious the means
of transferral is not...'
       It was... it was all too obvious... The Dark Lord wasn't human.
       It wasn't his strength. That, while not normal, could be copied.
       It wasn't his mind. He was sick, true, but such sickness was known in
others.
       It was his body.
       They'd all assumed the Dark Lord had re-constituted a human body...
       He hadn't...
       He had admitted it himself that his body had come from a serpent. But
such transmutation...
       Animagus transformations were possible...
       But to sustain human life in a non-human form...
       He had said he wasn't human though...
       Elliot shuddered, his teeth rattling so hard he thought he might break
them.
       :Are you there?:
       Bryant recognised the voice. It was oddly echoing as Dumbledore's mental
presence was boosted by Fawkes. It was not intrusive and this was not something
they did often. The stain was too much. Reaching from Hogwarts to London was a
stretch, especially when contacting one who's mind was in turmoil like his.
       :You're in my head,: Elliot replied with the line he always used in this
situation. :Where else would I be?:
       :Your distress is evident to the Order.:
       He gasped. :I'm sorry. I didn't realise I was projecting.:
       :We've cut it off now,: Dumbledore reassured him as Fawkes sent a pure
note of courage into him. :Do you want to discuss it with anyone?:
       :It's just not possible!: Elliot lashed out mentally.
       :Unfortunately it is,: Albus said steadily, understanding Bryant's
frustrations. He'd suspected Tom had been altering his body fifteen years ago
but he'd never been able to prove it. The coroner-wizard's report and the
information he'd just told Elliot had confirmed it. Before his death, he had
been serpent like, now he was a serpent.
       :What? How?:
       :It is not anything any sane wizard would do to themselves but Tom has
not been sane for a long time. He was, even in the past, experimenting with
altering his form, in an effort to attain immortality.:
       :But... but that's just sick.:
       :Tom is sick but his sickness is dangerous because he has the power to
hurt others.:
       Elliot nodded, even though he knew Dumbledore couldn't see the gesture.
The presence of Fawkes in his mind was calming him. This really was only his
problem. He shouldn't be troubling others with it. :Do you want me to write
that article? If the Order doesn't want it, I'll find a way to say no to the
Editor.:
       :You might find a way to say no to the Editor, but you won't find a way
to say no to Tom, he's expecting it,: Dumbledore replied. :I will not risk
that. Just tell it as a story of what happened.:
       :Even with what he wants?:
       :Include everything you can. I'll make sure there are some other
articles in the paper as well, to balance everything out.:
       :Okay.:
       :Elliot, every member of the Order is important. Hogwarts is open.:
       :I understand,: Bryant nodded as he felt the ancient wizard and phoenix
withdraw from his mind, Fawkes giving him a light mental caress.
       Bryant looked around as he was once again alone. With everything that
had happened, it really shouldn't have surprised him that the Dark Lord was
quite literally inhuman in more than just actions.
===
       Harry paced back and forth, his feet silent on the stone of the
dormitory. The others were asleep. A long day with an OWL had meant that they
had all fallen asleep early. He didn't mind that. They needed their rest. What
he wanted now wasn't rest...
       He'd read the articles detailing Voldemort's attack on the Ministry
building with a carefully hidden smile. The building meant nothing but the
attack was pleasing. They were moving forward. However slowly, they were
beginning to move forward.
       A year by the shadows estimation was certainly better than the twenty
seven years of fighting it would take if he remained with his beloved but the
few weeks he had been away already felt like a life time.
       And damn it... he never thought he'd feel this, he was horny.
       He wanted the taste of Voldemort on his tongue, the feel of white skin
under his hands and the incredibly sweet but tight feeling his lover invoked in
him. He wanted to be in the Dark Lord and he wanted the Dark Lord in him.
       Harry groaned, realising that his thoughts weren't helping...
       :Problems?:
       :Yes, damn it!:
       The shadows laughed but then smoothed themselves around him
sympathetically.
       :After everything with Heprah and the others... I never thought... I
never believed... I'd want someone. But I want him...:
        :We know, Master, we know.: They opened themselves to him, allowing him
to feel the echo of their need, the need they had felt for centuries when
longing for a Master. It was infinite and made his longing seem childish. :No,
Master, no... there is nothing childish about your desire. We showed you only
so that you know we understand.:
       Harry nodded as he got back into bed, curling himself up under the
covers. Even if he couldn't sleep, he should at least rest. :Tell me a story?:
       :What?: He could hear the outrage in their tone.
       :Talk to me, so that I don't think of him... or this need.:
       :No.:
       :Why not?:
       :There are only a few stories, a few of our histories that are worth
telling but we aren't ready to tell them to you yet, Master. Talk to him
instead.:
       :Huh?:
       :Just reach out to your beloved, you should be able to reach him.:
       Harry's emerald eyes narrowed. He could reach the Dark Lord, but he
hadn't wanted to since he was almost certain Fawkes would be able to tell.
       :The phoenix is busy.:
       :You guys are busy as well, aren't you?:
       :Yes.:
       :This time, I'll let you off,: Harry said.
       :Next time, we will tell you,: the shadows said before they mentally
bowed at him and vanished.
       Harry closed his eyes as he focused on his beloved. His first movement
was a tentative brushing up against him. There was a surprised flinch before
the Dark Lord's mind opened to him.
       :Harry.:
       :Voldemort.:
       Harry sighed and poured his desires into his beloved. There was a mental
chuckle and a caress of understanding but he was slightly suspicious when he
felt nothing returned. Quickly, Harry grabbed at a thought Dark Lord was
hiding.
       A wave of longing and some very graphic images of him flooded into his
mind. He licked his lips in anticipation.
       :The saying that anticipation enhances enjoyment when you get your
desire is a fallacy,: Voldemort said. :But,: he added with a wicked mental
smile, :It does give you time to plan.:
       :Heh!: Harry smiled as he flicked through the images again. They were
arousing, true but now that he was in contact with his beloved, the urge was
more pleasurable than frustrating. Besides the Dark Lord definitely had an
active imagination, not only where the pictures graphic but he was amazed at
some of the positions the Serpent Lord thought were possible.
       A lot of them though involved a fair amount of blood.
       :I always liked the idea of you splattered with the traitor's blood,:
came the quiet explanation.
       Harry groaned again at the wave of desire that flooded through him. :Any
particular person's?:
       :I had thought Lucius' but his is too crude.:
       :You can use Draco's once we're finished,: the shadows said softly
before they withdrew again.
       :You gave the brat to them?: Harry could sense the raised eye brow.
       :Hmm hum, although I rather like the idea of using Fawkes'.:
       Voldemort gave a rich laugh... :Keep that up and I will come early for
you.:
       :Then I think I'll keep it up. Can we try this one first?: Harry flicked
an image at his beloved. They were sitting, the Dark Lord was behind him, long
fingered hands resting on his hips, guiding his movement. His head was thrown
back and there was blood smeared on his chest, arms and legs, almost like the
stripes on a tiger, or primeval markings of ownership. Voldemort's skin was
mottled and he recognised the rippling diamond patterns that decorated any
number of snakes.
       Voldemort hissed in longing, his mental presence caressing his little
one. :Providing we can do this one after?: This time they were twined so
closely together that it was only through skin tone that Harry could tell who
was who. They were both splattered in blood and their motion had smeared it all
over the other. Their mouths were locked together, arms wrapped around the
other and legs tangled in a mess. Harry recognised the imperialistic patterns
of a basilisk on his beloved this time.
       Harry laughed. The mental sound clear and joyful. He licked his lips in
anticipation, holding back the knowledge that he would somehow be seeing the
Dark Lord on his birthday. :I look forward to it.:
       :Then I will see to it that the Ministry falls.:
       :And I will to it to make sure all the dark knows who their Lord is.:
       :You are our Lord,: the shadows whispered to Harry privately.
       :Then you will obey me and see to it that my beloved remains safe,:
Harry returned.
       :We will see to it, but never forget that you alone are our Lord.:
       :I won't.:
       :'Know that I will come for you Harry. Know that nothing will stand in
my way. You are my little one, Harry. You are my Phoenix crested Basilisk and I
will come for you. Wait for me, my little one, wait for me. You are mine,': the
Dark Lord quoted the lines to him with a smile.
       :I will wait for you,: Harry murmured as he felt sleep finally claim
him.
 
 
***** Alliance *****
Weapon
Chapter 7 Alliance
===
       Narcissa sat quietly as she waited. She had learnt early that the
patience was the only way to deal with the man she was waiting for. Eventually
he finished with his current client and ushered them politely out the door,
closing it gently.
       Silver eyes turned towards her. "The answer is no."
       "But..." She felt her eyes widen at the immediate rejection, tears
gathering... He was her last hope.
       "I warned you when you married him, you would not be enough. I cannot
save him."
       "You can!"
       Ollivander smiled but it was not comforting. "I will not save him," he
altered his words, before he locked the door and flipped the sign, knowing she
would argue the point and wanting privacy for that.
       "Why not? Please, Master!" Narcissa begged.
       "I warned you when you married him, child that he would not become the
man you saw, the man you hoped he would be. The arrogance was too strong within
him even then."
       "Arrogance?" She questioned. "Then what of the Dark Lord's arrogance?"
       "I told you then that he would have two paths," Ollivander continued,
ignoring her question, "and that only one path would allow life. One, he could
remain loyal, continuing to obey the Dark Lord, or two, he could try what he
did and be crushed utterly."
       "He could have won."
       "He was never going to win. Look!" Ollivander pointed to the ceiling.
       Pale green eyes looked towards the ceiling before they widened. "That's
not possible."
       He ushered her into the back of the store, ignoring the shadow as it
flowed along the ceiling following them into the well lit room where it took up
a position in a corner. This was his work room, his retreat and it was
shielded. It was shielded beyond anything the Ministry, or even the Dark Lord
could penetrate. It was completely private. But such a place was of necessity
for a being such as himself.
       "It was only a matter of time."
       "The Dark Lord controls them?"
       "No, they belong to someone else."
       Narcissa sniffed, fighting back the tears. "Please, master, my son?"
       Ollivander didn't miss the slight stir from the shadow at her question.
He knew what it meant. "I could save your husband more easily that I could save
your son."
       "He's just a boy."
       "The moment he chose to fight he became a man."
       "His Father forced him!"
       "It doesn't matter! 'There is no right and wrong, there is only power
and the will to use it.' That is what the Dark Lord believes, that is what your
husband believes and that is what your son believes," Ollivander told her. "You
and I both know there is both right and wrong and that every individual must
choose."
       Narcissa backed up eyes wide and unconsciously she prepared to fight.
"They've got you," she whispered, frightened.
       Silver eyes clouded in confusion before he understood. "No. They know
the rules of the game better than anyone."
       "Then why haven't you driven it out?" She hissed, pointing at the
shadow.
       "Because it has done nothing and it will do nothing. It is just
watching. It has said nothing. And if I drive it out, it will just return."
       "But their Master knows everything."
       "True, but that has never been a problem for me."
       As Narcissa continued to gather herself he narrowed his eyes, gathering
his own power in a flash, suppressing the sigh that he was forced to do this.
She had been warned when she married him... she had been warned when bearing
his child but it seemed her human side had dominated her actions then and
continued even now. Silver eyes glowed dangerously. "Do not presume to fight
me, child, you are only a halfling and cannot hope to win against me." It was
arrogant but it was a statement of fact.
       She was beyond listening and launched herself at him, embracing her
tenshi heritage as she shed her human form to attack.
       Ollivander sighed at her movement, releasing the charms that held the
illusion of his human form. He didn't miss the small start from the shadow
watching in the corner. It appeared there were things even they did not know.
       It was not a battle, it was not a fight, it wasn't even a skirmish.
Despite the fact that he was shorter than her as a pure-blood tenshi he was
infinitely stronger and faster than her.
       He caught both wrists in one hand and drove down, sending her to her
knees. The other grasped her throat, forcing her to look at him. Silver wings,
an exact mix of white and black flared around him as he glared at her.
       "I can save neither your son nor husband, and even if I could I have no
desire to save the arrogant man you have defiled yourself with," he hissed.
"You were warned when you married that this could happen. You would have been
better to let him go for with his arrogance he was always doomed. He was
neither powerful enough nor intelligent enough to stand against the Dark Lord
and his only hope lay in servitude. You should have kept him loyal. As for your
son...
       "You are bad enough as a halfling child but you at least know your
heritage. There are some species that should not mix. Tenshi and humans are
cross fertile true, but we live in different worlds and it has come to this
because you have chosen neither and now you think to save your son by bringing
him into our world..?
       "He is a quarterling who knows nothing. He inherited all his father's
arrogance without even a medicorum of intelligence or caution to counter it.
You have told him nothing because you could tell him nothing for he has not the
power to stand with us. Can he even transform?"
       Narcissa tried to breathe, tried to struggle but Ollivander tightened
his grip, his inhuman eyes caring nothing for her attempts as he continued.
       "Of course he can't," he answered his own question. "I would have sensed
his potential in an instant if he had that ability. His human blood is too
strong and he has no choice but to be human.
       "He may not yet be of age but he chose to attack, he chose to fight and
now he must face the consequences. You cannot save him and I have no desire to
even attempt it for someone as worthless as him.
       "You have one chance," he added, releasing her wrists as her arms went
weak and ripped at her sleeve, revealing the Dark Mark burned into the white
skin of her arm. "One chance only to save yourself," he continued fixing his
eyes on the Mark. "That is a contract. That is a magical binding contract that
cannot be broken..."
       "...that is slavery..." she rasped.
       Ollivander smiled but there was nothing comforting or gentle there.
"That is what you agreed to," he said relentlessly, "and that is your only hope
of salvation. If you want to live you must go to him and you must swear your
absolute allegiance and even then I doubt that will be enough." He reached out
to grasp one of her halfling wings, small and white. Viciously he pulled at it
and she cried out, the sound strangled by his remorseless grip on her throat.
       "If you want to survive child, you must show him your true self, that
self you have not even shown your husband or son. He may not spare you, but
this is the only thing which will entice him to even consider it.
       "And once that is done, you will need to prove your loyalty and for that
you must be prepared to sacrifice whatever it takes. I'd suggest you take your
son in chains to him."
       "...no..."
       "Your child is doomed. I do not know exactly the full extent of his
actions but I do know I could more easily save your husband than your brat." He
pulled again on one wing in punishment as she tried to shake her head, this
time not holding back his strength and it was only because he was muffling her
voice that the entire alley did not hear, as with a stray of blood and feathers
he ripped it free.
       Ollivander released her and Narcissa fell to the ground moaning in pain
as her tenshi heritage took over, healing the wound. Her wing would grow back
in time... that was the nature of a tenshi, a pure energy being to be able to
reform themselves as they wished... Because of her human blood she couldn't do
it immediately, she had to wait for her body to gather the energy but it could
be done but unlike him, her wings would always be white, no matter her
intentions. There was a flash as Ollivander destroyed her dismembered wing.
       The tenshi resumed his human form. "Leave," he instructed quietly. "And
do not come back unless you have decided to honour your word. You are a magical
being, and you swore an oath in magic. If you do not honour it, you do not
deserve your heritage and until you honour your word I will not help you.
Accept the fact that they are gone and leave your human heritage. Do not
attempt to save your son for he has angered more than the Dark Lord and is
beyond help."
       Narcissa gulped... "What..?" She questioned weakly.
       Silver eyes looked back at her, ignoring the blood and there was almost
an awed smile on his face. He gestured towards the shadow which hadn't moved.
"They have an interest in him now," he said simply.
       The shadow scuttled in acknowledgement before stilling, seeming to watch
the halfling with a superior gaze although no eyes could be determined.
       "No..." she whispered as his words registered. "No, I will not bow to
his arrogance."
       "For some it is not arrogance."
       "For this Dark Lord it is!"
       "No, it isn't. For your husband it was, to presume he could fight. For
your son it was for presuming to know and for you it is, for thinking they can
be saved. There is only a select few for whom it is not arrogance, for whom
their actions are based off their own desire and not from the presumption that
it is their due. And there are only a few who have the power to take it all. I
know this because it is my job to know!"
       "Lucius... Draco..."
       "No."
       "Yes! They should be the ones to have it all."
       "And yet their presumption would cause it all to fail. Even the Dark
Lord knows humility when it suits him and that is required to rule. I would
have destroyed him otherwise."
       "No," Narcissa said as she rose. "That they were not meant to have it
all, I do not believe you. That you have not fallen prey to them," she gestured
towards the shadow, "I do not believe you. And that I should again bow to the
Dark Lord, I will not!" she hissed before walking back through the stacks of
wands, retrieving her cloak from the hook, moving to the door and unlocking it.
       "That is the arrogance you have whored yourself to," Ollivander said.
"For your actions, child, your blood cannot save you," he added turning away.
       She was lost, human to the end, despite the blood that could have made
her more.
       "Good bye, Master," Narcissa said as she drew her cloak around her,
closing the door softly.
       "Good-bye child. If you fight him, do not rely on your blood,"
Ollivander continued even though she couldn't hear. "Your son inherited your
husband's arrogance but he also inherited your unthinking nature. The line of
Malfoy is ended."
       He looked up at the shadow, which had followed them back into his store.
"You, out!" he pointed, his voice forceful. "You can come back tomorrow but for
the moment I have no wish to hear your temptations. I am fully aware that I
could save Lucius if I was prepared to do something for you in return but I'm
not. Neither of them are worth it."
       The shadow seemed to blink at being addressed so directly before it
flowed down the wall and pooled in the centre of the patch of light caused by
his lamp. It was small but Ollivander wasn't fooled by that. Size meant nothing
to a shadow. Somehow it gave the impression of nodding to him, giving him a
feeling of respect he hadn't expected before it vanished, allowing the light to
vanquish it. No doubt it would report all it had heard to its Master before it
returned but that couldn't be helped, and that wasn't something which bothered
him. He had his job to do and if a few gifted wizards learnt the truth of his
existence, that was of little consequence. They could know... they just could
not act.
       Ollivander closed silver eyes as he sat down. Narcissa was foolish, she
had always been, her blindness made her stupid. She thought that her tenshi
heritage gave her the right to choose, forgetting that there were others...
       Wait...
       Did she forget? Or did she just not know? It was possible that she did
not know that there were other tenshi on earth since very few made themselves
known... But it did not give her the right to choose or to believe she was
anything more than human. It gave her no rights. Her mother should have taught
her that... Apparently not though.
       Halfling or not, her rarity as a tenshi had made it difficult, her
stupidity had made it easy. So few of them chose to live on this plane that he
did not like to condemn any... not even a halfling.
       "But sometimes there is no choice."
       The voice was not his own and Ollivander turned in time to see another
tenshi hovering there, jet black wings spread magnificently. They were in their
full magical form, a being of pure energy but he had never seen this one
before.
       Before he could ask, before he could consider anything about the
differences in feeling he was receiving between the colour of their wings and
the feel of their power, the tenshi nodded to him and vanished, gone without so
much as a whisper of air.
       The encounter was as disturbing as it was calming. He knew all the
tenshi on this world. It was his job to know, just as it was his job to watch
the humans, the wizards, watch for those who possessed enough magic and the
will to effect the magic plane, their world, watch them and determine the
danger and if necessary act. That was why they could know but they could not be
allowed to act.
       Narcissa was not suited for their world, nor was she suited for the
human world and she made no attempt to embrace either. Her husband was an
arrogant fool and the Dark Lord would make short work of him, if he hadn't
already and her son was no better, although his end promised to be messy.
       It was for the best though. Their destruction would benefit both species
as such arrogance was not becoming to those for whom it was not due and at the
moment, there were only three humans who could claim everything as their right
because there were only three who he had seen that were potential danger to his
people if they so choose to be.
       Dumbledore, Riddle and Potter.
       One who acted in the attempt to protect it all but who failed to protect
the individuals. He knew of the magic realm but was prepared to let it be. The
danger with him had passed.
       One who was fierce in his determination to rule it all but who turn from
that path with a glance from the one he chose. He wanted this world more than
the next. The danger with him might yet rekindle but not for years.
       And one who had the right and the power to take it all but who knew the
worthlessness of the whole. He could be a problem but for the moment was too
tied up with the matters at hand to threaten them. He would bear watching
though, for all his life, he would bear watching.
       The final battle lay with them. Narcissa could not change that and if
she tried, all three would show her how powerless she truly was.
       "Pray for mercy, my child, pray for mercy."
===
       Sirius lay back on the grass trying to remember the last time he'd done
this... Just let the world pass him by... it would be... it had been in his
last week at Hogwarts. Their NEWTs had been finished, and they were taking the
opportunity to relax in the relative safety of the school before they had to
face the world, before they had to face the reality of the war. For him, that
meant going back home...
       It meant going away from...
       He heard Remus before the other man crossed through his patch of
sunlight, and smiled. Right at the moment, despite all his concerns, life was
good.
       "You're being remarkably mellow today," the werewolf observed as he sat
beside him.
       The effort required to gesture was too much. "The sky is blue, the sun
is warm, the grass is cool, the wind is nice... it's a mellow day."
       "The Dark Lord is attacking, the Ministry is worried, the Order is
concerned and there is change coming... hardly very relaxing."
       Sirius looked over at Remus cautiously. He saw immediately that
something was wrong but was careful to keep his expression neutral. He didn't
really know what his friend had been doing for the last year, some mission for
the Order he'd been told, but he could see plainly that it hadn't gone well. Or
at the very least, something else was troubling the werewolf. While they'd
spoken at Harry's induction into the Order, there hadn't been time to talk.
       "Has the Dark Lord made an offer?" He asked. They had been driven apart
seventeen years ago by their suspicions and he was determined that that
wouldn't happen again. He didn't like it when he was separated from Remus...
Azkaban had been bad because of the Dementors, but also because, barring this
year and Hogwart's summers, if they didn't manage to arrange a visit, since he
had met Lupin, it was the longest time he'd been separated from the werewolf.
       You didn't really appreciate how much you needed someone until you
couldn't see them, and he knew how much he needed Remus.
       Remus snorted, "Not yet. We're expecting it though." Sirius knew more
about the werewolves' organisation than most wizards but he still didn't know
the truth. It was painful to keep such a secret but it was the only way. Some
things though... they could be easily discussed.
       "But nor has the Ministry retracted their laws," Sirius said with a wry
smile, reading what Lupin hadn't said.
       "There's that..." "There's something else?" Sirius was surprised but he
caught an echo of laughter from the shadows and resisted the urge to roll his
eyes.
       "You know me too well. There is... But I can't speak of it. I don't know
enough... and..."
       "It's okay. I always knew there was more to werewolves than you were
telling us. Tell me when you are able."
       Remus gulped. "That might be too late but whatever happens, I know the
path I will follow."
       "It's that bad?"
       Lupin nodded. "It's that close. If the Ministry doesn't do something
soon, and I mean within the next few weeks, I think a lot of werewolves will
side with the Dark Lord out of frustration."
       "That would be a disaster."
       "I know."
       "There's nothing in this new... thing?"
       "Not yet. It's promising... But it's going to have to be powerful. And
if it really is an alternative, it's going to have to come quick. Seventeen
years ago we were managing to stall the Dark Lord. Right now, I don't think we
can. The werewolves have got You-Know-Who if we don't support him, but equally,
that bastard's got us if we don't show our support soon enough."
       "It's not going to be easy."
       "No," Remus' voice was sad. He looked over to Sirius with a wane smile.
"I know where I stand though."
       Black eyes closed briefly as he hid a shiver at the timbre of his
friend's voice. That note was not something he needed to hear. The sun suddenly
seemed cold.
       "How has Harry been?" the werewolf asked, changing the subject.
       Sirius smiled. "Good. Better than good."
       "Truly?"
       "There have been bad times, but..." Sirius sighed. "He's grown up," he
finished. "He's no longer the little Prongsy we knew."
       The werewolf sighed but it was a sound that showed happiness. "James
would be proud?"
       "Exceedingly. He's become his own man," Sirius skirted around the truth.
"I don't even think Dumbledore appreciates how much Harry has matured."
       "Oh?"
       "Let's just say, that when it comes to battle, he's going to be turning
heads."
       Remus chuckled. "Let me guess, he'll do what he has said he's going to
do but it is going to be on his terms?"
       "Yeap."
       "He's so like his father."
       "To a point. Remus, don't... Don't make the same assumptions Albus has;
that the world has. Harry is his own man. He is not his father. He will make
his own decisions and live with the consequences. And so help us, we've put him
in the position where we are going to have to live with the consequences as
well."
       Lupin's eyes narrowed at the serious note coming from his friend. "Now,
there is something you're not telling me," he said, no trace of joviality in
his voice.
       Sirius nodded. "Yes. I want to tell you, Remus, god knows I want to but
I can't. Not yet, not now but I can warn you. Harry is not James and he is no
longer a child."
       "He has never been a child," Lupin interjected gently.
       Sirius nodded, black eyes fierce. "Remember this, please. Just don't
assume that what you are seeing, is what you are really going to get with
Harry. He's been pushed and pulled, and forced into a concept. When that
breaks... I don't want to see you get hurt."
       "I'll be careful," Remus said before he smiled. "Besides, the last two
Marauders really should stick together... I'm staying with you." Remus
suppressed a gasp when he realised what he had said and how Sirius would view
it... He hadn’t meant to say that... He wanted it... but...
       Black eyes snapped wide at what he was hearing before a sly smile
crossed his face. He'd thought that they had lost all hope in the past and he
had resigned himself to just being friends... but if Remus was prepared to try
again... "I'd... I'd like that," Sirius whispered, his voice thick.
       Lupin lay back on the grass, letting his hand steal over to take
Sirius'. "We'll just take it slow."
       Brown eyes closed as he let himself relax, enjoying the feel of the
smaller, warm hand within his own. It had been too long, and it appeared that
they had both resigned themselves to something neither wanted. It was funny how
just a few words could change everything. They both had secrets and were both
dancing around the edges of them, trying to protect the other.
       He never meant to say he'd stay. Werewolves learnt early that such words
only lead to betrayal.
       Sirius had left him before...
       No... That wasn't true... No matter what it had felt like.
       Peter had betrayed them all. Sirius had never left him, never wanted to
leave him.
       He never meant to say he'd stay... Brown eyes opened and looked up at
the sky as Sirius squeezed his hand.
       Somehow, he didn't think Sirius was going to let him go.
       He smiled.
       He could live with that and maybe this time it would be okay.
===
       Harry walked through the corridors slowly. It was very peaceful. It was
very quiet.
       It was so frustrating! There was nothing happening.
       Classes had finished, and the students had gone. He'd said his good byes
to Ron, Hermione, Ginny and the other Weasleys at the station as they'd left
with the promise that he would see them over the summer... Or if he couldn't
see them he would write.
       In a week or so, Dumbledore had scheduled his OWLs to be held in a week
and after that, depending on how he went, he'd have private tutoring to make
sure he could fight the Dark Lord. With the recent attack people were even more
on edge as everyone tried to figure out what Voldemort was doing.
       Hermione had left him with all her notes to help him study but she'd
made him promise to give them back immediately after his OWLs, claiming that
she needed them for her summer study.
       Humph! ‘Summer study’... This from a girl who'd probably equalled all
previous OWL high scores...
       Ron had left him with a far more useful gift, a whole stack of
Honeydukes toffee accompanied by a small promissory note from his Mother that
she would send him provisions at regular intervals.
       He couldn't help a small smile. It was like she believed that no one
ever feed him! But it was nice to know that some people still cared.
       Blaise and Millicent were returning next week to do their OWLs as well.
Unfortunately they both came from pureblood families who had in the past
believed in having more than one child so custody of them had fallen rather
simply to the first available Aunt or Uncle. It was slightly disappointing but
it did offer a new range of alternatives.
       He hadn't missed the glances Dumbledore had been giving him at meal
times. With no students, the still remaining staff and guests ate in a smaller
room near the Great Hall. It was much more personal and Harry grinned as he
realised it was probably the Staff Common Room with a bit of extra furniture.
Oh... the Twins would love this knowledge... Pity they'd graduated.
       Still, the old wizard had been looking at him questioningly and Harry
knew it was to see if he'd speak about those who raped him at Hogwarts. The man
was looking for an excuse to expel them.
       "It's too late," he whispered. "It's too little, too late."
       Albus hadn't known what happened to him at the Dursleys, he knew that,
he accepted that. And there was no way for him to know. Vernon had been
careful, Heprah had been paranoid and Xeoaph's charm had been flawless. But the
events of this year... The Headmaster had had options then. He'd just not used
them. He could have done nothing about the Dark Lord's attack but when Blaise
and Millicent had attacked, the Headmaster could have done something more than
waited until he awoke. There were charms... The two had been careful, true,
they had cleaned up after themselves but against a wizard of Dumbledore's power
even their aura's would have been enough to give them away. There were some
things the Headmaster would have needed him awake to perform, but there were
others that could have been done independently of him, and Albus had done
nothing.
       It still would have been too late, but he wouldn't now feel insulted by
the attempts he was making, the half veiled and encouraging glances of pity, a
few softly voiced sentences trying to awkwardly broach the subject.
       He wasn't going to condemn Blaise and Millicent even though his old
reason - that the Dark Lord would attack them like the Muggles - was now
invalid. He knew, but Dumbledore didn't, that it didn't matter that Voldemort
knew who had hurt him, the Dark Lord had given them to him, and he wasn't about
to let them get away, even though he could chase them down where ever they ran.
Emerald eyes narrowed. He needed them. Both Blaise and Millicent still had
their roles to play and he needed them here. Neither would appreciate their
role; but they had forfeited all rights, even the common courtesy he would
usually give a foe...
       Harry shook his head... That thought was definitely one from the
shadows. With a little smile he dismissed it. Their rules of engagement had
served them well, there was no reason those rules couldn't serve him.
       "Argh!" Harry cried. "I don't want to do classes!" He sighed... He'd
have to do some, since they'd want to at least confirm his OWL results. But
perhaps he could shorten the time if he showed himself proficient.
       The shadows were off seeing to his earlier instructions to seduce or
otherwise entice various factions to his side. There were one or two around
him. They were always there but they were just watching him, ensuring that he
remained safe. There was no need for them to speak. That magic, his heritage,
wasn't a problem though. He already knew how to control the shadows so he
didn't need interaction with them at the moment, it was the other magic that he
had needed to practice with. Harry looked around and saw what he needed.
       :Is the classroom empty?: He asked.
       His answer came in a general feeling of agreement. After a quick
inspection of the hallway, he slipped inside, closing the door firmly. All
Hogwarts classrooms had shields, reinforcing them against any charm. It would
be perfect if something went wrong...
       "What to practice?" He mused in jest. There was really only one thing he
wanted to perfect quickly. He was almost positive that for all the knowledge
his beloved had given him, he would be able to use it when called to, except
the animagus transformation.
       That was because the charm was unique for everyone.
       Sirius turned into a dog. His father into a stag. His beloved
transformed into the true serpent king... He shivered in pleasure momentarily,
remembering the ruby gaze.
       He turned into... Well... that was the first problem, he didn't know.
       Harry sat cross legged on one of the desks as he considered what he knew
about the animagus transformation.
       It was a high level transfiguration. Any first year wizard could
transfigure something external to them... Well, at least partially transfigure
something, Harry thought with a smile as he recalled some of their first
transfiguration efforts.
       It was an internal transfiguration and somehow no matter what you
changed into you had to retain enough of yourself to change back... or to even
want to change back. The Quintapeds - Hairy MacBoons - were supposedly evidence
enough of that problem. And some wizards never even got that far. The fear of
losing human form was instinctual, and they simply could not transform.
       Then there was the fact that it was a transfiguration of a living being.
It was easy enough to give something living the appearance of another living
creature since you weren't actually changing anything, but the animagus
transfiguration required that you change everything. External and internal
organs, bones, skin, everything. It wasn't so bad if the animal you were
changing into had some similarities with a human. Between all mammals for
example, their internal organs worked in pretty much the same way and so you
could concentrate on the change of shape. But for some creatures you actually
had to recreate entirely new systems.
       The Serpent Lord... the basilisk... While his beloved did possess the
eyes and poison of a basilisk in human form, the functionality of that human
form needed to be changed when he changed. And if he hadn't been the Serpent
Lord, then that would make the change all the more difficult.
       Harry sighed. Internal, living being transfiguration. Yeap... it was the
hardest. That's why Dumbledore wanted to train him in it, not so much for the
transformation itself, but for the additional knowledge he would have to gain
to master the transformation.
       But he already knew the extra knowledge. The only thing that remained
was the transformation.
       Except he didn't know what he transformed into... Well... he knew it was
unique and he knew it was conspicuous. Other than that he had no other details.
       "Nothing for it but to try," Harry said with a little laugh as he slid
off the desk. You could almost say that was his motto. He walked to the front
of the classroom where there was an open space.
       Harry closed his eyes, tilting his head upwards as he cleared his mind.
With a deep breath he recalled the words for the charm. While it was a
transfiguration, it was also a charm. With a practiced ease he grabbed at his
power, willing the magic to flow through his body as he said the words,
focusing the power inwards.
       Harry gasped as he pitched forward, the air catching in his upper nasal
regions painfully. But that pain was tiny compared to the rest of his body. He
coughed and spat blood, desperately trying not to scream. Every cell seemed to
be splitting apart. His back was in agony and it felt like it was being
shredded. The pain of the cruciatus curse was easy compared to this. His magic
lines were burning and his mind felt raw.
       He fell to the ground, resulting in a small splash as he hit the blood
that had pooled there. The wounds on his back weren't just imaginary. Harry
tried to curl up to avoid the pain but it was coming from everywhere. He
desperately grabbed at the energy he had sent through his body but it did no
good, even once he had managed to pull his power back. His whole mind was
bruised and instinctually he reached out for help, coughing up blood as
everything went black.
===
       Sirius lay back on the grass. It was such a nice day and Remus' little
slip of the tongue just made it perfect.
       They'd been moving together in the past but he would have understood
that if, after fourteen years of separation when he'd been in Azkaban, Lupin
had moved on. He'd been grateful that the werewolf was still willing to be his
friend but this was so much better.
       'We'll just take it slow,' he replayed the words through his head. It
would be enough.
       He knew Harry wouldn't begrudge him this...
       Harry?
       The sun suddenly seemed cold.
       Sirius frowned... there was something wrong, he could feel it.
"...harry..?" he whispered, sitting up.
       "Sirius?" Remus questioned.
       "Something's wrong," he said, his eyes wide as he looked back at the
castle. He trembled.
       There was a pulse of darkness and Sirius received a vision of Harry.
"No!" he gasped involuntarily. His godson was unconscious, lying in his own
blood, gasping for breath. :Where?: He snarled at the shadows, already running
for the castle, aware that Remus was following him.
       He loved the werewolf, he truly did, but his godson was his life.
       The shadows didn't answer him but they did guide him as he careened
through the corridors. Harry had been in a class room but there were so many
class rooms.
       Sirius was gasping himself when he broke through the door of the room,
skidding to a halt just in front of Harry. The shadows had gathered around
their Master, staunching the blood flow as they flickered around him. They
didn't seem worried. Sirius frowned as he sensed that and wondered at the
incongruence of the situation. He would have to question them later. For now,
Harry needed to see Madam Promfrey.
       After a quick initial examination, in which he confirmed that most of
the wounds had been healed and that it would be safe to pick his Godson up,
Sirius scooped Harry into his arms, ignoring the blood that his robes adsorbed
liberally.
       Remus skidded to a halt at the door then gasped when he saw what had
happened.
       "He was attacked?" The werewolf leapt to the obvious conclusion.
       "In a manner," Sirius responded, listening to the shadows whisper.
"Let's get him to Madam Promfrey."
===
       Dumbledore sat at his desk. He wasn't really paying attention to the
paperwork in front of him as he thought about the situation. It was only end of
year paperwork anyway and if the situation with Tom wasn't resolved it wouldn't
mean a thing. He would do it, he just needed to think about this for now.
       With a sigh he placed his quill in its holder, leaning back to look up
at the ceiling. It was ornate, the patterns were soothing. He didn't know which
Headmaster had installed it but he traced the patterns out with his eyes. It
helped him to think.
       Tom had been attacking. That much was easy. What was not easy was how
they could retaliate.
       The dark forces had always had the advantage in this manner. They had
no, or very few set bases which could be attacked, while the forces of light
had to defend all their infrastructure and buildings. It was frustrating but it
was the way it had always been.
       He supposed he could pressure Severus into revealing the location of the
Dark Lord's fortress but in the long run such a thing would not be beneficial.
Tom would just move to another place. This way, if they needed to he could
still make a dedicated frontal assault with the Order.
       For the moment though he needed to determine some way of fighting. When
the students returned, they'd be checking all of them for the Dark Mark, that
went without question but it still left all summer. And when the Ministry came
to the Order, he needed to have some suggestions on what to do.
       There was only one way he could see to combat Tom. They could hunt for
Death Eaters, and everyone they ferreted out was a small victory, but for good
morale. They could not afford many more battles as the one just past. By the
time they knew about it, it had been too late. The public was beginning to
worry. And a worried public was a scared public, and when scared, they were...
well... stupid.
       Those who would usually resist, would give into the Dark Lord, in an
effort to remain safe. They did not see that turning to the dark was not going
to work; it was not going to keep them safe.
       The Order and the Ministry had to fight that fear, and quickly. It could
be done. They just needed a few victories. But for that they needed to
intercept the Death Eaters mid attack... and without a ranking spy on the
inside that wasn't going to work...
       Severus was good, but the Dark Lord knew he was spying. Dumbledore
guessed Tom was keeping him alive because he sensed he could use the potion
master further.
       Albus shook his head... At the moment, they had no way of getting a spy
into the Dark Lord's inner circle. Right now, as useful as Lucius' Rebellion
had been, it had put Tom on the alert. He would not be trusting many, if any of
his servants. They were probably marshalled just before the attack. None would
have had knowledge of what was coming.
       They could still deal with that though... They just had to get there
faster. And that meant they had to do two things: one, improve communication
lines so that no outpost or building could be attacked without a central
headquarters knowing, and two, they had to have a task force ready and waiting
to respond to the attacks, whenever they came...
       But...
       "We don't have the people..." Dumbledore whispered... Right at the
minute they didn't have enough people of a high enough skill to stand any
chance against the Dark Lord or his Death Eaters. They had enough... but not
enough to pull together to make any kind of fighting force. They had to remain
where they were. They were needed where they were.
       "I do though."
       Dumbledore started at the soft voice, grabbing his wand as he looked
back towards the door.
       "You..."
       "You don't have enough people... Oh you will, in time... but right at
the moment, you don't and that is where you will lose."
       Never let it be said that Dumbledore could not recover quickly from
surprise. Indeed, so controlled was he that often he never even showed
surprise. "So what do you suggest?" He asked urbanely.
       "An alliance."
       "A large suggestion."
       The being sat down and smiled at the ancient wizard, white teeth
perfect. "This is a large situation."
       Dumbledore looked thoughtful for a moment. "I don't believe we have been
formally introduced," he said.
       "Hehe! True, although I did meet you once... many, many years ago."
       "Truly?" Albus asked. "Never mind... I am Albus Dumbledore," he said,
introducing himself formally. "The Head of the Order of the Phoenix, Hogwart's
Headmaster..."
       "You needn't tell me your ranks. They mean nothing to me. I am Xeoaph
Casitial, elder vampire."
       "And you want to ally with us?"
       "Want? No. Need? Yes."
       "Why? You and your kind have never shown any interest in our battles
before."
       "Because your battles have never had the ability to affect us before."
       Dumbledore's eyes narrowed dangerously as Fawkes trilled.
       Xeoaph sighed as he heard the threat in the phoenix's song. "The Dark
Lord Voldemort is not a Dark Lord, he is the Dark Lord. He makes Grindlewald
look like he wasn't even trying."
       "Tom..." Dumbledore paused, seeking the right phrasing. "Tom is very
strong," he admitted. "But there has been nothing that makes him different from
the others..."
       "You don't truly believe that, do you?" The vampire asked with a
scornful laugh in his voice.
       "So what do you see?" the ancient wizard asked.
       "I see the shadows obeying him."
       "That's not possible."
       "I have felt their power searing through me. I have seen their servants
answering his call. How else can you attribute that ability to your Lord
Voldemort, unless he is the true Dark Lord?"
       "The shadows are the power of Gryffindor," Dumbledore objected. "And the
Heir of Gryffindor lies with me."
       "The shadows might be his power, but they aren't obeying him."
       "They will in time."
       "Time you don't have."
       Albus was silent. He didn't want this but it would help enormously, and
they could use it as an opportunity to look inside vampire society, to truly
see what it was like. "Alliance, huh? Until what is achieved?"
       "Until the Dark Lord is defeated. I thought my support of Malfoy would
have made that clear."
       Dumbledore smiled. "I wondered about that... I was curious as to what
Lucius had paid you."
       It was Xeoaph's turn to smile. "No payment... not yet... I will extract
it from his line in time."
       "Yes... well, I doubt you will be able to get it from him."
       "True."
       "After Tom is destroyed, what then?"
       "Ah, you were never one to neglect the future," Xeoaph snorted happily.
"After that we continue the way we were. You wizards will try to destroy us,
and we will continue to feed."
       Dumbledore nodded. He hadn't really expected any other answer.
       Xeoaph growled. "Dumbledore," he spoke crisply, firmly. "I want
Voldemort dead. I want him dead more than I've ever wanted any human dead
before. Normally this wouldn't be a problem for me, I'd kill them, drain their
blood and throw the body away. His power makes that a little difficult, the
shadows make it impossible. I am so concerned because he not only has the power
to dominate your society but to destroy mine. It would take longer, true, but
with the power of the shadows, our eventual fall would be assured. This is for
us, a pre-emptive strike, nothing more. I don't care about wizards, I never
will. I care about my children and for that I will stand beside you until he is
dead."
       "And you can't go to the Ministry."
       "True. The Order will have to broach our alliance to them."
       The old wizard looked around his office. The paintings were nodding
slightly. This was an unusual situation and even though they didn't know
exactly what was happening, the previous Headmasters knew enough from what they
could determine about the world, enough that they agreed with the Vampire's
suggestion. Fawkes' burning eyes were narrowed and the phoenix was looking at
Xeoaph carefully, his magical eyes examining every inch of the Vampire Elder as
he seemed to measure something. Finally he spread his wings, small motes of
flame falling from them before he trilled once again.
       "All right," Dumbledore said, holding out his hand as he put his wand
down, slipping it back inside his purple robes. "An alliance."
       The Elder Vampire reached out, pale blue eyes meeting twinkling blue.
"An alliance, until the Dark Lord Voldemort is dead."
       "Yes," Albus smiled. "Sherbet Lemon?" he offered his guest.
       The offer triggered an odd memory. "You're still addicted to those
things?"
       "They are..."
       "Albus..!" The shout echoed up the stairs, and the sound of running feet
followed it. "Albus!" Remus yelled as he entered the room.
       Brown eyes swept around the office at the odd scent and the wand was
drawn in an instant as Lupin snarled, werewolf blood in him tingling at the
being sitting there calmly. "What is he doing here?" He snarled.
       "I could ask the same of you, dog," Xeoaph responded, lengthening his
nails as his eyes glowed with power.
       Vampires and wizards did not get along but Vampires and werewolves
usually killed each other on sight.
       "Both of you calm down!" Dumbledore snapped, flicking his wand through
the motions of a containment charm. "Remus, Xeoaph is my guest. Xeoaph, Remus
is a trusted member of the Order."
       The vampire snorted before he turned away, dismissing Remus with an
obviously superior glance.
       "Remus, what did you come for?" Albus asked pointedly.
       Lupin growled again, containing the werewolf within him as he slowly
lowered his wand. "Harry," he said. "Harry's been attacked."
       Blue eyes snapped wide. "Here?" the Headmaster asked disbelievingly.
       "Yes. Perhaps you should ask the vampire to see if he knows anything."
       "I and my kind have done nothing to Mr Potter," Xeoaph snarled. "Why
would I or my kind want to destroy the one who can kill the Dark Lord?"
       "Perhaps because you have now allied with him?"
       "I always knew werewolves were stupid," the elder vampire said, his eyes
burning. "You think after I backed Lucius the Dark Lord will allow me to ally
with him..? Oh, I forgot... werewolves don't think."
       Remus growled again and Dumbledore sighed, once more raising his wand.
       "Both of you," he said with the full power of his voice, invoking every
nuance he could. "Enough!"
       "Fine," Remus turned away. "Dumbledore," he added coldly. "You should
know this isn't going to sit well with the werewolves."
       "A threat?"
       "A statement of fact. Come, Harry is with Madam Promfrey." Remus began
back down the steps, shaking his head. They might never have said the word ally
but he could already see that the deal had been made. Dumbledore had to have
known allying with the vampires was not a way to get the werewolves on side.
       Did everyone truly think so little of them?
       Brown eyes narrowed, suddenly the new offer was seeming better and
better... He had to know more.
       Dumbledore turned back the vampire. It was obvious he was going to need
to speak with the Ministry soon if they wanted to have any hope of keeping the
werewolves on side. Despite enmity between vampires and werewolves, they would
need both to win and they couldn't be seen to be treating one ally better than
another. Remus had spoken the truth. "I must attend to this," he said softly.
       "Yes, Mr Potter is very important."
       "Why didn't... why didn't you take him when Heprah gave you the chance?"
       "No matter what you might think," Xeoaph said as he rose. "We don't take
children."
       Dumbledore looked back at him sceptically. "I have seen the memory, you
know. You offered it to Heprah."
       The vampire elder sighed. "As much as I might have liked to have taken
young Harry Potter as my own, I am aware of the trouble that would have caused
me."
       They began walking through the corridors, heading towards the infirmary.
"It's never as simple as you wizards think it is to make a vampire."
       "I thought it was relatively easy."
       "The process is," Xeoaph said clinically. "Selecting who will and will
not become a vampire is difficult. We live forever, human, we cannot afford to
have those who are unsuitable within our ranks."
       "Ah," the Headmaster said delicately, letting the matter drop. Nothing
had come of it, after all, except for one charm the Dark Lord had broken.
       As they entered the Infirmary, Xeoaph paused, pale blue eyes opening
wide. "Of course," he murmured, looking at the unconscious boy on the bed, "it
would have been worth the trouble."
       If Harry had been beautiful as a child not yet eleven, he was now
stunning. The vampire sighed appreciatively. Pale, flawless skin, jet silky
hair and cherry lips. A small lithe body with enviable muscle tone. For a being
who would be and who possibly already was one of the most powerful in this
world, his body seemed too small but it was unimaginably beautiful. Even the
tattoo on his chest seemed there to enhance his beauty.
       "Definitely worth the trouble," Xeoaph sighed again as he made a small
gesture at the large black dog that was slowly uncoiling from its guarding
position at the foot of the bed, hackles raised, teeth bared.
       He frowned as the slight jolt of power was repulsed by the dog. All
creatures of the night were bound to obey him. He repeated the gesture as the
dog growled, black eyes somehow burning.
       "Can't control a dog?" Lupin laughed mockingly, laying one hand on
Sirius, bending close to whisper in his canine ear, "Dumbledore wants him
here."
       Xeoaph watched with interest as the dog turned to growl at the
Headmaster. It was quite obviously not a normal animal.
       "The Order will ally with the Vampires," Dumbledore said in a tone that
brooked no questions. "There is no choice. You know that."
       Through it all, Madam Promfrey continued to work, ignoring the tableau
playing out around her.
       The dog lowered its head, glaring up at the ancient wizard. The vampire
got the impression it would have moved further but there was a stirring from
Harry and the animal's attention was diverted as it turned to its master, as
they all turned towards the only one who could fight for them.
 
 
***** Other Considerations *****
Weapon
Chapter 8 Other Considerations
===
       Harry sighed as he regained consciousness, floating in a warmth that
signified he was only half awake. He was aware enough to sense things if he
tried, but was warm and comfortable and the pain was gone.
       :Master...: the shadows growled at him softly and he could hear their
anger.
       :What were you trying to do to yourself?: They asked, but Harry knew
they already knew the answer.
       :I just wanted to show that I could do it!: He said before he realised
how childish that sounded.
       :We have no doubt that you will do it, but we told you, not yet! Master,
as impossible as it sounds, your magic is still growing and for the moment your
animagus form is locked by the simple fact that you don't have the power to
sustain it.:
       :Then when will I have the power?:
       :When you come of age. You are only fifteen Master. When you come of age
your power will mature. Others have gained their animagus form younger, we know
Master, but they were simple beings. The power required was nothing. Master,
you will eclipse them all.:
       Harry could still hear the anger in their voice as they coddled up to
him mentally, scolding but at the same time consuming his radiant light. He
could sense though, that while they were angry with him, they were also angry
with themselves for not keeping a better watch. They should have known he would
try it.
       :I'm sorry,: he said slowly. :I will wait until then.:
       :You will be ready by then,: they assured him.
       Harry nodded mentally, eyes downcast. Their scolding didn't hurt, but
the stupidity he felt did. Everything could be undone because he was stupid
today. That was chastisement enough.
       They let him wait a few minutes before they flicked around him again,
chuckling... Their anger was seemingly gone. :It's alright Master, we can use
this, it's all part of the game but for now sense who is present, Master,: they
instructed knowingly.
       Emerald eyes looked around mentally as Harry pushed his senses out.
       Sirius was present and he could smell his Godfathers hair, so he was in
his animagus form. Madam Promfrey was present... that explained why there was
no pain. He could smell the sharp medicinal tang on her. There was another,
almost animalistic smell there... Like his Godfather but different, more
mature... Harry held back the smile as he realised Remus was there. Sirius
would be happy. There were two more scents. One presence felt like fire and he
caught the slightest odour of burning lemon... Dumbledore. Only Fawkes smelt
like a clear burning fire and only the Headmaster smelt like a burnt lemon
sherbet.
       And the other... it was vaguely familiar. He had smelt it before but he
couldn't really place it. It was sweet, blood... but there was power there and
it was old. He extended his magical senses, almost like feelers, careful to
make sure that no one noticed. While he could explain how he could do this he
didn't really want them to know that he could.
       Definitely blood. There was blood all over this presence. And it was
old... Older than Dumbledore... by... centuries?
       :Vampire?: He asked silently.
       :Xeoaph,: they grinned.
       :What's he doing here?:
       :He's allying himself with the Order to fight the Dark Lord.:
       He held back the snarl, instinctually moving to protect his beloved.
       :It's alright, Master, we thought we'd attack him now.:
       Harry chuckled as he saw the plan and moaned theatrically as they surged
into being.
       Xeoaph lived in an almost constant state of alertness and it was rare
that anyone, even one of his children could catch him unawares but as their
master's emerald eyes blinked open the shadows moved, slamming the ancient
vampire up against the wall. The vampires startled cry hung in the air as he
looked down at the boy who wielded the power of shadow.
       Snuffles yipped happily and jumped up licking at Harry's face. He too
knew the plan. When the shadows had accepted Harry as their Master and had
revived him from Malfoy Jn's killing curse, he too had been changed and now his
connection to them could not be stopped, unless they chose.
       Remus turned to look at the vampire through narrowed eyes, one eyebrow
raised. He had the honour of the werewolves to maintain in front of the vampire
and for that he had to remain calm and collected no matter what happened. It
was not a difficult act.
       Madam Promfrey just sat back in astonishment blinking as her eyes
refused to focus on the vampires restraints.
       Dumbledore simply looked slightly amused as Harry pushed at Snuffles,
coaxing the dog to back up as he sat up slowly. Fawkes had been right, Harry
did indeed have more knowledge and control of the shadows than they thought,
and that he had revealed.
       "It's okay, Snuffles, it's okay," Harry murmured, patting the soft fur
on the canine head and pulling gently at Sirius' ears. With a frown he looked
up at the vampire, emerald orbs meeting pale blue with a shock of recognition.
"I know you," Harry whispered.
       "You do indeed child," the vampire said without fear.
       Harry cocked his head as if listening to something and the shadows
skittered carefully but still did not release Xeoaph.
       "You're the one who made me forget."
       Xeoaph smiled. "I did."
       Harry nodded and the shadows withdrew, leaving the vampire to fall. He
landed gracefully and made no attempt to move closer.
       "Allies?" Harry asked, looking towards Dumbledore.
       "Yes," the Headmaster said easily.
       "Ah," Harry said still patting Sirius. "Sorry about that," he apologised
to the vampire. "They're kind of protective."
       Xeoaph waved the apology away.
       "Do you want to tell us what happened?"
       Harry looked down at the sheets. "I was attacked."
       "We know that. By what?"
       "By the shadows," Harry answered softly with their prompting.
       "But they obey you," Xeoaph objected.
       "Some of them do."
       "What?"
       "Only some of them do," Harry repeated. The shadows purred around him,
prompting his answers as they danced. It was all a game but it was game they
had played for centuries and they intended to win. They always won.
       Harry sighed, swallowing as he looked up at the ceiling, his eyes
pinched.
       "Professor Dumbledore... I'm... I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I already
knew about the power of Gryffindor. Some of it anyway," Harry began. "I know
what they can do and I know what I am to them. But not all of them obey me.
       "After so many centuries they have become fractured... some obey me,
other's obey the Dark Lord because he has offered them enough sacrifices,
enough light that they will obey him.
       "They helped him against Malfoy... I don't know what he paid them... I
don't want to know," Harry swallowed hard in an artful impression of disgust as
the shadows laughed.
       Playing with the truth was fun.
       "It was the one's who obey Voldemort that attacked me but they are mine
now. If they touch me, then they have no choice." He grinned. "The one's who
are mine helped me."
       Dumbledore nodded in understanding. "So to take the one's the Dark Lord
has..?"
       "I just have to see them," Harry said. "Then, they will have to obey
me."
       "Is there any way we can stop them attacking you?" Remus asked.
       "No," Harry shook his head. "But there aren't that many of them who are
loyal to Voldemort because he can't give them exactly what they need. With
Gryffindor's blood... I don't even know what it is that I give them but it is
what they need."
       :We will stop them,: the shadows whispered to all present.
       "They can talk?" Albus' eyes opened wide.
       :We can talk, we can feel, we can act.:
       "But the histories..."
       The shadows laughed... :Are not entirely accurate,: they finished. :We
will protect our Master from those few of us who obey the Dark Lord, you must
protect him from all others,: they instructed coldly as they faded.
       The Headmaster nodded. "It will be done," he murmured considering this
new implication. He had always assumed that the shadows were just that, shadow.
Power, yes but not conscious, not able to act on their own. This was... there
was no doubt this was an interesting development but it was worrying. They
would now need to determine the extent to which Harry could control his
heritage. "Harry, rest now." The ancient wizard turned towards Xeoaph. "For the
moment, I believe the two of us need to plan."
===
       Severus sat back. The room was both stiflingly hot and brilliantly
illuminated as he considered what he had seen. He was still at Hogwarts.
Usually at this time of year, he had already finished up and returned to the
Snape Manor but there had been complications with the paperwork and he was sure
that as soon as he got back, and removed all the anti dust charms, Dumbledore
would call him back and he'd just have to recast everything before leaving
again for the Summer. No... better just to delay going back.
       Besides there were too many shadows and Dark Arts items there that he
just hadn't had the time to remove. There were too many distractions. It also
gave him a reason not to go to the Dark Lord should he call and that was a
whole other issue he didn't want to think about now.
       Not with everything else.
       They were back...
       They'd left him alone for twenty years but now they were back. They
skittered at the edge of his vision, murmured softly to him at night and sidled
up to him comfortingly. He couldn't see or hear them properly, not like he'd
been able to but the fact that they'd chosen now, of all times to return was
not reassuring.
       Twenty years ago he'd woken up from the dream, he'd seen the Dark Lord
for what he truly was - a manipulative, murdering wizard who cared nothing for
the future or his followers - and then he'd tried to break free. He'd gone to
Dumbledore in agony and had become a spy, he had brewed so many cleansing
potions and had fought so hard to return to the light. It had been difficult,
and it had hurt like nothing else, it nearly killed him but he had accepted
Fawkes' blessing and been admitted into the Order.
       And he'd turned away from them.
       They'd tempted him then... And it had been so hard to resist. They'd
shown him everything he wanted and he knew they had the power to fulfil their
temptations. That was why they were so addictive, so dangerous. Anyone could
offer you the illusion of what you wanted, very few could grant it in reality.
       It had been Fawkes' blessing that had finally driven them away. They
couldn't stand the light that was the phoenix but now they were back, and while
they weren't as clear as before, yet, they seemed stronger, more confident.
They seemed sure that it was only a matter of time.
       No!
       He had proven his ability to ignore them once. He would continue to
ignore them. Besides, his desires had changed, and he doubted they could fulfil
them now. No-one could fulfil them now.
       Peace was not something he'd know.
       Not just because of the war but because of what he'd seen, because of
what he knew and because now he was sure that what he had believed to be true,
what Dumbledore believed to be true was an illusion.
       Harry Potter had sided with the Dark Lord.
       There was no proof, not even a whispered rumour. In fact the boy's
Initiation into the Order of the Phoenix was direct evidence against that
belief; but he knew what he had seen, hidden deep in those emerald eyes, and he
knew, somehow, that Potter was against them.
       And that scared him.
       Fifteen years ago, at the height of the Dark Lord's power, when he'd
been in danger from both sides, when he'd been struggling to remain sane, when
the Light fought the hopeless battle, he hadn't been scared. He'd known that
somehow it would work out.
       This time...
       This time he knew nothing.
       No... this time he knew what he had seen. He didn't know how Potter had
fooled Fawkes since that was meant to be impossible but somehow the boy had.
       He raked a hand through greasy hair. With everything that had happened -
and yes, he knew what had happened while the child was with the Muggles and he
knew of the Dark Lord's affection - he supposed he couldn't really blame
Potter. They placed the expectation on him, they gave him the power, they
didn't ask his loyalties and so they had no right to be surprised... They would
be though. They just assumed he was theirs.
       Heh! He would have assumed the same if he hadn't seen those eyes.
       The Dark Lord had shown his usual brutal self with his gift and while
the expression had been fleeting, he knew Potter had been expecting it, Potter
had been waiting for the day that Bulstrode and Zabini had found out the truth.
He knew what was in those packages. He knew what the notes said.
       And he knew who had done it. And an instant later, the expression was
gone, replaced by one of innocence, one of surprise and morbid curiosity. An
expression that was mirrored throughout the Hall.
       He'd grant that the boy was a superlative actor and he'd grant that in
some ways, he had been allowed to learn the truth... But now he wasn't sure
what to do.
       He couldn't prove what he knew to Dumbledore and he couldn't approach
the Dark Lord. And as demeaning as it would be he couldn't even ask Black about
his Godson because the man was either in on the plan or had no idea...
Although, he rather thought Black would know.
       He was trapped.
       It was a feeling he didn't like. It was a situation he'd spent the best
part of his life trying to avoid but it was the situation he found himself in
now.
       "But I am trapped alone," Snape murmured, blinking softly as he looked
into the fire.
       That was a situation he was familiar with.
       He nodded. It really wasn't that difficult, not once he thought about
it. He had always been alone. He had always followed his own goals.
       Nothing had changed.
       All that had changed was his certainty of the outcome. And now all he
needed to do was to make sure both sides... or was that all three sides...
viewed him as a friend.
       Easier said than done. He'd have to walk a fine line... one so fine he
wasn't sure it existed.
       Dumbledore wasn't a complete fool. Voldemort was paranoid. And Potter...
       It would be a cold day in hell before the boy viewed him as an ally.
       That could be a problem.
       The boy was still a student though... he hadn't even come of age. He
would accede to the Dark Lord...
       He didn't know what deal they might have made. He didn't know how Harry
had come to an agreement with the Dark Lord, he didn't want to know. It was
always possible though that the Dark Lord had destroyed Potter and the annoying
brat spawned of James was now nothing more than a puppet for the Dark Lord. A
perfect spy...
       One they had embraced as their own... Harry Potter...
       If he was only a puppet then the Dark Lord had created well...
       No, that was one thing that wouldn't have gotten past Fawkes, not even
with the sacrificial serpent there to distract attention. This was something
Potter had chosen of his own free will.
       This whole situation was caused by Potter...
       This could be a problem.
===
       Narcissa sat in the drawing room. The light from the sun flooded in
giving her sculptures an ethereal air. She wasn't watching though. She couldn't
watch. Usually she would. Usually she liked just watching the light hit the
sculptures she had gathered over the years, as the water they were in reflect
the light. It was calming, it was joyful and it reminded her of the light she
saw when she used her tenshi form.
       She could still remember his words, words she wasn't meant to hear.
'Good-bye child. If you fight him, do not rely on your blood.'
       He had been her last hope but he refused...
       No... she shook her head... This isn't the end. I'm not going to lose
him!
       She had lost her husband. It was painful but she would not lose her son.
       "Draco!"
       The magic of the manor would convey her voice to her son. If he would
not help, then she would have to make the arrangements.
       She was not going to lose her son as well, not to this petty Dark Lord.
       "Mother?" His voice was soft.
       Narcissa smiled as she looked over at his blond elegance. He had
inherited his father's looks. Pale blond hair and pale, almost translucent
skin, and startling grey eyes. High cheek bones formed the base of a seemingly
fragile but handsome face. Her son wasn't fully a man yet, but he was beginning
to fill out and she could see the grace and handsomeness he would possess, from
both sides of his blood.
       "Come in, come in," she motioned him close, patting the divan beside her
to indicate where he should sit.
       "Mother," Draco smiled and she was pleased to see that he looked less
tense. "You wanted to see me."
       "I did."
       After Draco had seated himself, she rose, restless and moved to the
windows, looking out at the perfectly manicured estate gardens. Like everything
about the Malfoy Estate they were beautiful, ordered. That was perhaps their
weakness, there was nothing spontaneous there. But that was the way of magic,
the way of life.
       What humans saw as coincidence, as random events were all part of a
larger pattern, one their minds could not grasp and so they called it fate.
       There was no such thing.
       There was power. There was light. There was dark. There was good. And
there was evil.
       There was no fate. There was no destiny. Those were created of the other
five.
       There was magic and implicit in the ability to use magic was the ability
to control what muggles called destiny. And it was that now, she would teach
Draco the true extent of his magical abilities.
       Then the two of them could plan, for without a plan they could not
defeat the Dark Lord. And her son was... destined - Narcissa hid a smile -
through his blood to be superior, to rule. It was his right. He was not a
pureblood, no matter what he believed, he was more, through her and because of
that heritage... that was all he needed.
       And no half Muggle Dark Lord was going to take that away.
       Only one with the blood of a tenshi deserved it all.
       Only her son.
       "Mother?" Draco questioned her quietness.
       Narcissa turned and smiled. "Tell me about magic," she instructed.
       "Huh?"
       She smiled again at his confusion. Her mother had started much the same
way with her when explaining this. But it was necessary. "Tell me about magic,"
Narcissa repeated. "Tell me where it comes from and why a wizard can use it."
       Draco frowned, "But..?"
       "Just tell me."
       There had been a question like that on his OWL. He hadn't been able to
answer it. No one in Slytherin had been able to answer it and from what some of
the others had heard from the other Houses, no one there had been able to
answer it. Mudblood Granger had supposedly been in a foul mood about it for
days.
       Magic just was...
       "I don't know."
       "I do."
       "Huh?"
       "I know what magic is. You know as well, you know. It's in your blood,
my child because it's in my blood. This is knowledge not known to wizards but
only to our kind. Your father does not know, Dumbledore doesn't know, the Dark
Lord doesn't know for they do not have our blood."
       "Blood?"
       "You aren't human, my son. It's that simple."
       "What?!" Grey eyes stretched wide in disbelief.
       "It's nice to know you inherited a bit of me," Narcissa chuckled. "That
was my reaction as well. You are not human, not completely my son, because I am
not human. You are more than human. You share in your very being the origin of
magic."
       "You're lying," Draco said, his grey eyes wide as he looked at the woman
he thought he knew. He couldn't move. There was something holding him in place.
       "No, I'm not. Let me show you." With a shrug she shed her outer robe and
moved her hands to her waist, stripping off her shirt. She liked this blouse
and there was no need ruin it. "Look!" Narcissa said forcefully as Draco
averted his gaze from her now naked chest. The Dark Mark seemed mocking on her
elbow but she ignored it. It had been causing her pain, but not so much that
she couldn't deal with it.
       She half closed her eyes as she concentrated, willing her wings into
existence. They had healed since Ollivander had disciplined her and she felt
them wrap around her, warm and comforting. They were the main thing that marked
her as a tenshi. There were other less obvious marks but most focused on the
wings.
       Draco gasped when he saw the reality, his grey eyes somehow stretching
wider at the proof that she was not human.
       "I am a tenshi."
       "A... a... a tenshi?"
       "Well, a half tenshi."
       Narcissa locked her wings around her, covering her body as she moved to
sit back with Draco. He just watched her move. She reached out to take his
hand, and brushed it against her wing so that he could feel that it was real.
There were other changes, they just weren't so obvious. Her eyesight for
example was now so beyond perfect that it defied description. She couldn't see
what her mother had seen but she could see so closely that she could see charms
move through the air. Her strength was improved and if necessary she could
transform further, becoming almost intangible, almost pure magic and thus
immune to physical and all but the most powerful magical attacks. Because of
her father's blood, she couldn't transform fully, she would always be tied to
some physical body but it was enough.
       There were other things... Battle adaptations. Tenshi were the keepers
of the peace in their realm but she had never really been able to manifest
those, except when extremely stressed. The magically poisoned claws, and fangs
and magically hardened skin was not something that came easily to one with
human blood for they were pure magic. Right now though, she was going to
demonstrate one more ability, the ability to manipulate magic.
       "There are many realms of existence. When humans die, they become what
the Muggles call spiritual energy. It isn't spiritual energy though, it's
magical energy. It's amazing what they will believe. In their effort to disavow
the existence of magic, they allow the existence of the soul, of spirit, never
realising that the two are the same - magic is spirit. That what the ghosts you
see are, magical energy that isn't quite in the right realm, that's why they
are visible here, the interference between the two realms keeps them visible
and why when they are ready, they can move on. They can't use magic though,
even if they were magical in life because they are not aligned properly in
either existence.
       "A tenshi though is a natural inhabitant of that magical plane. And it
is in that plane that magic originates... No, magic doesn't originate there,
that plane is magic.
       "Magic is after all intangible, brilliant and powerful. It is spiritual,
or what the Muggles would call a miracle. All living things are in some way
connected to this other realm, the magical realm, that's why sometimes a Muggle
can do magic..."
       "I..." Draco gulped, his grey eyes wide. "I never believed Pritchard
when he told me..."
       "He told you?" Narcissa was surprised. She would have known if there was
another like her.
       "He told me that their family has a legend about all the powerful
wizarding families. That we are all descended from... from something more than
human and that is why we alone have the right wield power. And that is why we
are more powerful. Of course the blood has been diluted through the generations
but it is our right to rule and it is why we must strive to keep our blood
pure."
       "Pritchard? I believe my father was distantly related to them... I am
only a half tenshi, my son, my mother was a pureblood and my father a wizard
from the Clan of Slytherin."
       "The Clan of Slytherin? They haven't existed for centuries, Mother!"
       "I know, but I am quite a bit older than I look. It's one of the
advantages of tenshi blood. Tenshi's are eternal. As a halfling, I can look
forward to an extremely long life, and as for you, my son you will begin to see
the effects of your tenshi inheritance soon. Magic, physic, life span, these
will all be affected."
       "I'll grow wings?"
       "If you are going to, it won't be for a few years yet," Narcissa smiled.
Draco was taking this well. "Tenshi are born with wings, halflings have to grow
them later and not all of them do. It makes sense though since I physically
would not have been capable of giving birth to you if you had been born with
wings. Wings come with maturity, and while you are nearly of age for a Wizard,
you are still a child in terms of the tenshi."
       Draco looked faintly sick at the reference before he shook his head
slightly, blond hair flicking around him. "Does... did Father know?"
       "No. I... I could never tell him. The Dark Lord does not know either."
       The blond boy nodded his eyes downcast.
       "It... it will be all right my son," Narcissa said soothingly. "I mourn
the loss of your Father every day, and I will for the rest of my life however
that situation is a travesty of justice which unfortunately we can do nothing
to rectify. The travesty that is the Dark Lord though...
       "You are part tenshi, my son, you are part what the original wizards
were and so you alone have the right to rule.
       "It is your heritage, it is your right, and it is your blood.
       "I never met Salazar Slytherin but he was a great man. His direct
descendant though... You are not quite as directly related, but your blood is
purer and that is what will tell in the end over blood polluted by Muggles."
       "Father said he had become weak."
       "He has. But even in his weakness he is formidable. You would not be
able to take him on for years. Your power is greater than his, Draco but it
will take time for that power to develop, time he will not grant. The Dark Lord
is not foolish. I will teach you everything I know, Draco, and that will reduce
the time... but we cannot fight him as your Father did. He has too much
support.
       "But that does not mean we cannot destroy him. All it means is you
cannot take control immediately. There will be a time of chaos."
       "I will not side with Dumbledore," Draco said firmly. He wasn't sure
why... but he would not side with the Light, no matter how much of a sham that
might be on his part. He could not go to Dumbledore.
       "I do not want you to," Narcissa reassured him gently. "That would not
serve our purpose. You will though, maintain that you are not loyal to either
side. You are loyal only to yourself."
       He nodded.
       "Good. Then this summer we will begin and when you return to Hogwarts
you will have the basis upon which you can build, and from which you can bring
others to your side. The Dark Lord's actions are not universally accepted, not
even with the dark forces and you will be the beacon of hope that they are
looking for, the alternative.
       "But that is why, once he is felled, there will be chaos. The more
intelligent ones will support you immediately. The others will need time to see
what their Dark Lord truly was, a mudblood pretender and to accept the reality
he is gone. Those fools will be useful though as we can direct them into the
final destruction of the Light."
       With a shrug of her shoulders she ruffled her feathers, pulling her
wings back and replacing her blouse as Draco nodded slowly, thinking about what
she had said. "My son, you will have it all."
       "And I will give it to you."
===
       Ginny looked up at the ceiling as she flopped back on to her bed. The
oak beams and boards hadn't changed. They never changed and their familiar
pattern was comforting.
       She needed that.
       It was only a week into the summer holidays and she needed all the
comfort she could get. Her eyes glanced towards the window but it was dark
outside so there was nothing to see. She didn't need to see though, right now
she needed to think.
       She'd already said good night to her family, turning in early so it was
unlikely that they would bother her. No. At the moment everyone was waiting for
Ron's OWL results or speculating on how the twins had managed to afford the
lease in Diagon Alley.
       Right now no one really cared about her.
       Well, that wasn't true. She knew they all cared but this wasn't
something she could speak with them about.
       Near the end of semester she'd woken up one morning to find the bond
with Harry gone. It wasn't completely gone, she could feel the echo of it, and
knew he had kept his word. If it came to it, her life force would be drained to
replace his. That wasn't really what she wanted but it was the only protection
she could give him.
       Ginny closed her eyes as she took a deep breath, forcing herself to try
to see the whole situation as Harry obviously had.
       Look at the facts. Draw conclusions from there.
       That's what logic dictated but logic was a cold substitute for the
heart.
       Look at the facts, she reminded herself.
       She loved him. It hurt but she loved him. She'd always loved him.
       It had been a childish, stupid obsession at first, an infatuation based
of nothing more than puppy love and rumour. But then came Ron's first letter
home from Hogwarts telling them that the scrawny but messily attractive boy at
the station had been the Harry Potter and it had become so much more. It had
been fate, obviously that had meant that of all the girls her age, she had
actually met their obsession. It had been the confirmation of her love.
       No, no! Look at the facts!
       It wasn't fate, it was chance.
       She loved him.
       He loved Him.
       Those were two facts she knew to be true.
       Other facts...
       No one else knew that Harry hadn't been kidnapped but instead had
willingly gone to the Dark Lord. No one she knew that she could talk to. Sirius
obviously knew but the dog animagus was no in a position where he could talk to
her, and he probably didn't even sympathise with her.
       Harry had returned because... Why had Harry returned?
       Think.
       Because of her..? No...
       Because... Because with Lucius' rebellion the Dark Lord's forces had
lost too much ground. Harry had returned because it was the best way to help
his beloved. He could be a spy that they would never suspect.
       Ginny nodded, gulping as some of the implications became clear. It was
neat now, but when Harry showed his loyalties... that was going to be messy.
       But that didn't help her.
       In the battle for Harry's heart... It hadn't really been a battle.
They'd lost, every single girl who had fantasised over Harry had lost... she'd
lost.
       Hadn't she?
       That's what Harry had said. He loved the Dark Lord.
       But... He'd said something else... With everything else he'd said she
didn't want to cling to it... but maybe that's why he said it. He'd been trying
to explain to her, trying not to hurt her... trying to make her see it from his
perspective.
       His perspective..?
       It should never have happened!
       No part of Harry should love the man who had killed his parents, who had
tried to kill him, who had tortured him, who had hated him, who had pursued
him, who had saved him, who had tortured for him, who had killed for him, who
had loved him...
       No part of Harry should...
       But he did.
       And he always would.
       "But I love you," Ginny whispered willing the words to enough. "I love
you so much...
       "Give me a chance."
       A chance, that's all she wanted and it was more than many... heh... any
others would get...
       "That's what he's given me," she said softly wondering why it still
hurt.
       Harry had given her the chance. He'd said it himself. 'The possibility
exists for me to love you as something more.'
       Something more than a friend.
       He had hurt her. He knew that. It had hurt to take away what she had but
he was doing it not because he loved Him but because in the end he loved her,
as a friend... not yet a lover...
       Ginny smiled, opening sapphire eyes to look at the ceiling again. "Not
yet a lover," she repeated...
       But the possibility was there.
       And she would show him the sweetness of what she could offer. She was
not like the others. She wouldn't be dependent on him for everything, she would
not just be for show. Harry didn't need a lover who was just for show, he
needed a partner, and she would grow to be that partner. Somehow, she'd find
something to offer him, something to make him take up the possibility.
       "You can love Him Harry, you can love Him for all time, I don't care,
just as long as you let me love you, just as long as you love me."
===
       Remus sighed as he sat down, considering the week. It wasn't so much the
week he was considering as the past few days.
       His arrival back at Hogwarts had been standard but Sirius' presence had
made it interesting. He had missed the other man and while they were still
maintaining separate quarters, taking it slow, he didn't know how long that
would continue. They could both be rather impetuous at times...
       Although... they both had secret's to keep now... He knew Sirius wasn't
telling him things, just as he wasn't telling Sirius things.
       It still felt good though. It was amazing what one little slip of the
tongue could do.
       What followed after hadn't been as good but Harry had always recovered
quickly from everything and the attack by the shadows was no different. It
probably helped that various other shadows had made themselves conspicuous
around their self-proclaimed Master. They were reassuring to everyone, Harry
included that they were under control, and they seemed to take delight in
making the boy happy. It was childish but he'd once caught them making shadow
animals on the curtain in far more detail than any hand could make. He hadn't
heard them but from the smile gracing Harry's face, whatever they were saying
to accompany the outlandish movements of the 'animals' was amusing. For that
alone he was comfortable with them.
       The real problem with the week lay with the vampires.
       He didn't know what Dumbledore was thinking... or not thinking by even
entertaining the notion of an alliance.
       He knew the Light needed allies but did they really need those who had
traditionally called themselves dark? The Vampires had done them a favour by
allying with Lucius, they had ensured that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would not
approach them, unlike almost all other Dark Lord's in the past. They had the
opportunity to catch the undead between their two forces which would have
destroyed many of them. Such a situation was not likely to arise again for
centuries.
       But the ancient wizard had greeted the vampire elder like a friend, and
from the tone in Albus' voice, it almost seemed like he had been expecting
them.
       Did no one think of the werewolves?
       They had served the dark, true, but they had also served the light, and
they didn't view all humans - wizard or not - as food. And they were one of the
few forces that had actively and continuously hunted the vampires for
centuries.
       Werewolves hated vampires. Vampires liked werewolves... as food.
       It was not a well-known fact, most wizards didn't care what a vampire
ate, but werewolves were better nourishment for a vampire than a human or even
a wizard. The mutagenic toxins in their blood that reacted in the light of the
moon when ingested by a vampire acted to stabilise the undead form, stabilise
the toxins that were in a vampires blood, the toxins that caused them to be a
vampire and were introduced via their blood and bite and a stable form meant
less bloodlust, less bloodlust meant less wasted energy which in turn lead to a
reduced need to feed.
       Thankfully, that little fact was not known by most vampires and most of
them viewed werewolves as a troublesome meal by virtue of their increased
strength, even in human form.
       It was something Xeoaph would know though.
       It was something all werewolves knew.
       And it was the reason werewolves and vampires were traditional enemies.
       Trying to make them fight on the same side was not going to work. There
was too much history between them.
       The Pack Messenger had shared his outrage as well, and now, if the
Ministry accepted Xeoaph's offer, whatever they offered to them was going to
have to be impressive before the werewolves would even consider fighting.
       It wasn't just the Vampires though. The Dark Lord had finally made his
offer. The Pack Messenger had relayed it, and if Remus didn't know that He-Who-
Must-Not-Be-Named was evil beyond all others, he would have been sorely tempted
to take it.
       And there was more on this mysterious third offer. Whoever they were,
they were aware of the werewolves' reticence and they wanted to talk, face to
face to reassure their potential allies of their power, and to discuss any
questions that may have arisen. Their offer though, still remained almost too
good to be true.
       The Dark Lord wanted them to fight. The Ministry would no doubt want the
same. In enticement the Dark Lord offered them acceptance and sacrifices, while
the Ministry would probably offer to repeal the unfair laws.
       This new party didn't want them to fight, they only wanted a large,
visual show of support in one battle that they nominated, and the public
proclamation that the werewolves had sided with neither the Dark Lord or
Ministry. Apart from that it wanted them to hold neutral but was prepared to
accept that the werewolves were not one homogenous whole and that some would
fight for either side. Providing that whoever this party was had their backing
at that one nominated battle the werewolves could side with who they liked.
       This third party wanted chaos.
       To entice them into this rather ambiguous position, they were offering
sacrifices, victims who could be converted into more werewolves, which would
appeal to those who wanted to side with the Dark Lord, and they were offering
the eradication of unfair laws, which would appeal to those werewolves who
wanted to side with the Ministry but more importantly they were offering power.
       The Pack Messenger said the response to the questions that the Pack had
raised had been easy. It had been confident. 'I can give you what the Dark Lord
offers, I can give you what the Ministry offers but I can give you more. I can
give you access to wolfsbane potion. I will ensure that you are considered
human. And I will give you my word in blood.'
       Remus blinked as he considered it. It meant only one thing. I will give
you my oath, bound by my blood, so that if you feel I have reneged upon what I
have offered, you may take my life.
       It was an archaic offer... but it was attractive. For once they would
have someone to blame, someone they could take out their anger on when things
never eventuated.
       It was not a pretty emotion, but it was human nature, and they had been
betrayed too often. Dark Lord after Dark Lord, Ministry after Ministry, they
all conveniently forgot their promises. This oath wouldn't ensure that it
wouldn't happen. There were ways of getting around it, but it would give the
werewolves a sense of control. That was something they had never been offered
before.
       That's why he said he would go to this meeting.
       This new offer was confident. The details it was hinting at were too
good to be true and even if nothing eventuated, it might give them the
opportunity to stall, or blackmail both the Dark Lord and the Ministry into
offering them more. He doubted the Ministry would have any inkling of even the
possibility of a third offer, but the Dark Lord might, and if he took it
seriously...
       That's what he'd told the Pack Messenger to relay to the other Leaders.
Somehow they had to let He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named know that they had another
offer, and if he took it seriously, then they could take it seriously... unless
further evidence could be presented to them, that the offer was genuine and
that it had the ability to eventuate, otherwise they would be better off
ignoring its hope completely.
       Still, he would go to the meeting. He wanted to see what type of
creature could even think of offering the werewolves a deal to ensure this
chaos and he wanted to see for himself if it was all just a dream, a useful but
unattainable dream.
       Maybe he should talk to Sirius... properly talk to Sirius...
       Except that would break his word.
       He couldn't do that.
       And then of course, adding to the week, there was the little talk he'd
had with Albus after the vampire had left. So many things had been over looked
with Harry that he had almost considered it impossible that this could be
ignored.
       He understood the reasons for Harry being raised by the Muggles and if
he had had a loving family, it would be okay, but he was and had missed out on
many of the traditional things wizarding families did. The small traditions,
the things they didn't even think about because they saw them from birth. It
was one of the things that separated a Muggle born wizard from the others and
while the view was elitist, he knew James would never want Harry to be ignorant
in that way.
       Besides, for a wizard of Harry's power, the Coming of Age Ceremony was a
necessity.
       It wouldn't happen completely on his birthday, but that day would be the
day that was pivotal. His power would fully awaken. It was the traditional time
for it. And on that day he would need to be protected, shielded. For most
wizards or witches it was just another day, but for Harry...
       James had said that his Coming of Age Ceremony had been interesting and
he had been shielded by the strongest shields in the Potter estate... Remus
didn't even want to think what Harry's was going to be like.
       Dumbledore had simply nodded when he'd brought the issue up,
deliberately not mentioning the vampires or werewolves. The Headmaster had
looked grave before he'd smiled and said that he'd already asked an old friend
to provide the shielding for Harry since Hogwarts shields were good, but these
one's were going to need to be exceptional and they couldn't use the Potter
estate shields as they hadn't been reinforced since James had died.
       Apart from the fact that it was prestigious for old wizarding families
to maintain an estate, there were practical considerations. Most of them had
shields specifically keyed to the blood of the owners. This meant that for
those exceptional wizards, they could still use their home estates to contain
their power because the shields were reinforced by their power. It was a set of
complicated charms that tied the shields to a bloodline but it was worth it
when people such as Harry were concerned.
       Dumbledore had admitted it had been the same for him, and that he had
deliberately kept a young Tom Riddle in school briefly for his Coming of Age.
Most families took care of it quietly and most wizards didn't even require
it... and how could he have forgotten until now?
       At least the Headmaster had already thought of it.
       Remus sighed as he got up, preparing to sleep, life had been so much
easier in the past, even with the complications of the war.
       He never thought he'd think that.
       Maybe... maybe even if he couldn't talk to Sirius he should go see him.
If it was one thing the dog animagus was good at, it was simplifying things
and... and it would be good just to be with him.
       Remus smiled as he left his quarters.
       Somehow, everything would work out.
===
       Voldemort hissed as he looked at the map. It was showing him the past,
what had happened scant hours ago at one of his newly formed bases.
       The fact that it was new meant that he hadn't lost many people but the
fact that it was new meant that he shouldn't have lost it. But he knew now, oh
yes, he knew where the vampire had run to.
       It had been a well-planned attack, with most of the manpower provided by
the vampires, no doubt in an effort to prove that they were... not loyal, but
that they would work with the humans on this. There were enough Order members
there though that if they desired, they would have been able to cover the
vampires' involvement from the Ministry, but this was probably an initial run,
something for the Order to show success in before they approached the Ministry.
       He would be expected though, to retaliate, both against the Order and
the one who had leaked the position of the base. That usually wouldn't have
been a problem. He would enjoy the slaughter of the Order but for the
traitor... There were only a few of his forces who knew where that base was and
there was only one who could possibly have given Dumbledore that information
and he didn't want to destroy them yet.
       He knew Snape was a spy. There were a number of his Death Eaters that
had gleefully reported their suspicions of Severus' duplicity to him thinking
they would be rewarded but he already knew. He was not so arrogant to think
that the Potion Master could get that close to Dumbledore without the ancient
wizard knowing. But Albus was playing the same game he was with Severus...
       They both considered Snape's information useful, but neither of them
relied on the Potion Master and their game would be over when Severus chose to
support one side over the other.
       Voldemort smiled... Perhaps it was time to begin a new round in their
game. Snape was only one who could have given the information to Dumbledore...
He should at least be seen to punish Snape... and perhaps he could see which
way the man would jump this time.
       Maybe Harry could help...
       The Dark Lord sighed.
       He already missed his mate. While they could communicate over the large
distance, he knew Harry was reluctant to due to the presence of Fawkes. Harry
was not in any danger, even if detected he could simply return to him and they
would fight together but it would then take them many years to achieve their
goals. This deception was faster but it was not comfortable.
       But they would make the sacrifice of the other's company to be able to
enjoy eternity together that much faster... And he wasn't going to destroy what
his mate had suffered, what he had suffered because he missed Harry.
       He'd miss him more if they were fighting for twenty seven years before
they conquered it all. He knew that. They would both be too busy to see the
other if it came to that.
       And it wasn't like he wouldn't see Harry this year. He rather imagined
that once Dumbledore considered the Heir of Gryffindor trained, Harry would be
on the battle field. The Dark Lord was looking forward to it.
       He'd seen partially what the shadows could do in combat and while he
knew his beloved was powerful, he had yet to truly see what Harry could
accomplish. Fighting Aurors was boring. They were weak, their training made
them predictable. Fighting Vampires was similar. Xeoaph and Dumbledore would
both be interesting to fight. The Vampire was old and powerful and would no
doubt have some deceptive moves while the ancient wizard was sly and knew his
moves. But he would kill both of them when it came to it.
       No, fighting Harry would be exciting and invigorating. He'd fought the
Boy-Who-Lived in the past and that had been challenging when Harry had yet to
even grasp at his power. He had been innovative with his charms, giving him
outcomes that no one could even hope to duplicate. Now that he knew what he
could do, it would be so much more.
       He ran his tongue over thin lips as he looked back at the image of the
vampires attacking. So Xeoaph still wanted to see him dead and Dumbledore was
desperate enough to take aide from the undead?
       He'd known when Lucius interfered that he'd won over the Ministry and
that it was only the man's rebellion that had kept him from claiming it all but
he'd never expected Dumbledore to so openly admit that, for in accepting the
vampire's aide he had now admitted that there was no other choice... Perhaps it
wouldn't take the year as the shadows had indicated...
       :Only by a day or so though.:
       The Dark Lord sighed at the whisper, still this should make it easier
for him to claim full dominion over the werewolves though, for there was no way
that they could now ally with the Ministry. This time, the werewolves would not
be able to stall him.
       He flicked a mote of power at the map, ceasing the movement. The base
was lost but he had successfully established other bases and he would continue
to. There was nothing to be concerned about.
       This was just the beginning of the year, the beginning of the year that
ended it all and both Dumbledore and Xeoaph would appreciate that fully before
he was finished.
       He was going to enjoy that moment when Dumbledore realised that their
saviour, the Heir of Gryffindor did not belong to the Order, did not belong to
the Light but was his - mind, body and soul. And after he'd claimed it all, he
would give it to his mate, a gift to the one who had made it all possible,
right after he finished possessing Harry once more in all the ways imagination
could suggest. And he had a fairly active imagination.
 
 
***** OWLs *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Weapon
Chapter 9 – OWLs
===
       Harry sighed as he lay down his quill at the signal before he smiled up
at the still shell shocked examiners. They'd been rather taken back when he'd
asked if it was all right to put a speed charm on himself so that he could
write faster since he wasn't going to be able to answer everything properly
without the charm. They'd discussed it for a bit, no doubt thinking he was
bluffing before they allowed it.
       That had been three written OWLs ago and even with the charm, tiny
writing and a few scrolls of extra parchment on each OWL he still felt that
there were things he hadn't answered properly. It was surprising. He'd never
concentrated on the information his beloved had given him before but now that
he was, it just seemed to flow out of him. The depth and the breadth of
information was impressive. Voldemort just didn't understand the complex charms
and incantations; he understood the basic premises of magic, the things most
wizards and witches understood instinctually, or never really understood at
all, he knew consciously. It was a part of what made him so dangerous.
       To Harry though, it was a part of what made him so attractive. The
Serpent Lord was accustomed to looking beneath the surface, to seeing what was
hidden and to understanding why things were the way they were. He accepted the
truth without trying to twist it to his purpose.
       He was cunning, yes, arrogant, yes but thoughtless... no. That was a
misconception held by many wizards, that the Dark Lord thought nothing more
than about his own power, cared nothing more than for domination. They would
understand soon although many would not see. He was cunning for that was his
nature, his arrogance was born of ability and he had thought past the
destruction of what they knew.
       That wasn't Harry's concern at the moment though. Now he had to go eat
lunch and prepare for the afternoon practical session of the OWL. He nodded
pleasantly to Blaise and Millicent as he left. While they were taking the OWLs
together, they were eating separately, and for the most part, they were
avoiding him. They were waiting for the axe to fall... It would, in time, once
they thought they were safe although he rather imagined that Zabini might yet
confront him...
       He wasn't worried about that though, not when he was anticipating the
practical session. The first practical OWL session, Harry had been a little
worried. After all, it was common knowledge, thanks to the Tri-Wizard
Tournament that his wand was eleven and a half inches long, and made of holly.
The wand he bore now though... thirteen inches, yew... That was just as
famous... for all the wrong reasons.
       The examiners though either hadn't known or didn't care and that had
been somewhat of a relief. The Auror's knew, some of the Order knew but
Dumbledore had cautioned them all against destroying what they believed to be
the Voldemort's wand, pointing out that he would be defenseless without it,
that without his own wand, he needed something and that the Dark Lord was not
likely to be giving his back anytime soon, if he had it at all, which he did.
Emerald eyes narrowed reflectively. He wasn't going to let them destroy this
wand, not because he didn't believe it evil, it was an inanimate object, and it
could not be defined as being evil... Only the use, the intent with which it
was used, could define if it was evil or not. He knew that but that didn't
matter, he wasn't going to let them destroy it because it was now his wand.
They would figure out what that meant in time.
       At the moment Fawkes was busy. The phoenix had voluntarily said he would
'sleep' during Harry's OWLs so that there could be no question about the
results but the fire bird was also busy communicating with Order Members in the
wake of the successful joint attack on his beloved's stronghold with the
vampires. It was nice, to be able to be himself during this time. He was
careful to hide in the evenings as the bird had checked on him each night so
far, probably wanting to confirm that the information he had was nothing more
than information, and wasn't part of a personality plant designed in the end to
betray them.
       As if he needed that to love the one who had been true to him!
       They didn't understand that. They wouldn't understand that, the reason
he had... not turned... but accepted the Dark Lord as his lover, as the one he
would support, and more importantly who would support him for all time.
       Voldemort offered many things but there was one thing no one from the
Light had ever offered him. Some had tried... but this was something where the
attempt was not good enough.
       Love. The Dark Lord offered him that. Private, intense, obsessive. He
could have been loved by another, Ginny was falling over herself to be the
object of his affection, but it was the Dark Lord who had his heart because the
Serpent Lord had been steadfast with his emotions and had offered him more than
just that emotion...
       Acceptance. Dumbledore didn't understand that there were precious few
who would accept him as he was. Everyone saw the singular act the magic of Lily
Potter had wrought without seeing him. Ron, Hermione, Sirius, Ginny, Remus,
even Snape... They did but there were very few who looked beyond that, who even
tried to look beyond. Very few who would accept that he did not have the
responsibility to be their savior. Voldemort did though.
       Understanding. There was no one else who understood. The others could
try but they did not understand, and Harry didn't blame them for the lack but
they looked upon him with sympathy, not understanding exactly what it was that
he felt. They didn't know what he needed when he remembered he'd been raped,
they didn't know what he needed when he woke up crying... he didn't want them
to know.
       The Dark Lord did. He knew and he had, in the house that had held his
torment, given him what he needed despite the risk, the risk that he would
later reject him, that he would later consider anyone who had slept with him in
that house an enemy, the risk of many things going wrong. And later, at
Hogwarts, the Serpent Lord had been prepared to again give him the love he
needed, to show him that he was still loved but had equally been prepared to
let him take control. Voldemort had been prepared to wait until he was ready to
accept him, had stood all year as a constant loving beacon in his mind, and had
not said a word about his denial. He had waited because he knew that in the
end, he was the only one who truly understood.
       Cunning, yes, because he knew that despite the need, his attentions
would not have been accepted because Harry did not understand.
       Arrogant, yes, but arrogance born of experience and he alone knew what
it was that Harry needed.
       Thoughtless, no, courtship had been gentle, loving, solicitous, each
move revealing the truth only when it would be accepted, each action designed
to reassure and to show the singular understanding that no one else could.
       That understanding was the reason above all others that he had seen and
accepted the Lord Voldemort for what he was. Harry was not foolish though. He
knew the Dark Lord had only seen him because of his ability and was concerned
even now, with his aptitude for battle, but in the end, they would and they did
stand together as equals. Their power had drawn them together as enemies, but
their understanding saw beyond that. In the final analysis, that was all that
mattered.
       And that was why he knew at the moment, the Dark Lord was more annoyed
than worried about that loss since it did now confirm who his enemies were. And
it allowed him now, to take definite steps, without wondering if they would be
necessary, to combat the vampires.
       The Order would broach Xeoaph's proposed alliance to the Ministry soon
and while it had only been a week or so, Harry had to admit that Dumbledore
moved fast. The vampires had a small presence in Hogwarts already although
there were plenty of places they were restricted from. Still, there was nothing
better to create a feeling of alliance than by allowing mingling. The shadows
had countered by now always forming at least some of his clothing so if the
need arose they could defend him, not that he really expected Xeoaph to try
anything... at least, not yet. It was too early.
       Remus was still sulking and there was something else going on with the
werewolves but Harry expected that situation to be in hand soon. When he'd
asked the shadows had just said that everyone was coming along. They wanted to
surprise him. Harry grinned. It wasn't going to surprise him but he was looking
forward to the outraged screams from the Ministry, and then he'd probably have
to do something to make it up to his beloved for stealing what he knew
Voldemort already half thought of as his troops.
       That could be fun.
       Harry sighed as he shifted his wand slightly, bringing his thoughts back
to his OWLs. This afternoon it was the practical side of the Defense Against
the Dark Arts OWL and right at the minute, his hand still ached from writing.
If it was one subject he personally knew well it was Defense Against the Dark
Arts, but with Voldemort's extra knowledge... He already knew his answers would
eclipse anything anyone was expecting, even if they had read his previous two
OWLs.
       The Dark Lord was knowledgeable about Herbology but it was knowledge
based more on how to use, or how to avoid plants rather than how to care for
them. Still, Harry knew the information had been more than adequate and
Herbology had never been his specialty. They, Dumbledore and the Examiners,
wouldn't be expecting anything special from that OWL.
       Potions had been the second one. And that was one where his beloved's
knowledge had helped immensely. He tried in Potions, he really did but Snape
had not been impressed when he had started brewing everything perfectly and had
ignored him since about midway through the year. It had not been good way to
learn but at least Potions was no longer the trial it had been.
       He had, in the written portion written much more than he had intended
to, going so far as to point out some of the fallacies with popular known
potions and to then suggest some improvements. In the practical section, he had
perfectly brewed the listed potions, and had brewed the extra potion that the
Examiner had requested.
       Dumbledore had told him that would happen. Where he showed great
proficiency, the Order had requested that the Examiners raise the bar a little,
to push his knowledge. So far though, he hadn't really been able to detect any
increase in difficultly although from the stunned expression on Blaise and
Millicent's faces and the well concealed surprise on the Examiner's face, he
supposed it was difficult.
       The knowledge was just there. There was no question about it and there
was no hesitation. If he thought of something, he just knew the answer, the
same way as he knew everything else he had learnt during his life.
       For the DADA practical... well... he didn't know what they might ask,
but this was one section he should excel in above all the rest.
===
       "Albus... I need to talk to you."
       The Headmaster looked up to see Marchbanks, the head examiner standing
in the doorway. "Shouldn't you be preparing for the practical?" He asked
mildly.
       The woman smiled wanly, "With only three people, it's all in hand," she
said softly and it was only then that Dumbledore noticed the shaking of the
parchment held in her hands, shaking that was directly translated from her
trembling. He had never seen her like this.
       "What's the matter?" He asked seriously, waving for the ancient witch,
who had seemed old when she examined him but now seemed frail and scared, to
enter.
       She gulped as she moved forward and the door closed securely behind her.
What she had to say was of such magnitude that her mind was still trying to
come to terms with it. As Head Examiner for the OWLs and NEWTs she had seen
many extraordinary things. She had seen the best and the brightest in their
fledgling years, seen the brave and the strong developing their traits, seen
the loyal and the meek show their worth... She had seen what generations of
wizards were going to be capable of. She had seen Tom Riddle's twisted
brilliance, seen Dumbledore's assured skill but she had never seen anything
like this.
       Nor had any of the other examiners.
       Very gently, Marchbanks laid the parchment on the desk, almost as if she
was afraid that it would explode or self-combust at any point. "We..." she
gulped. "We know you said to expect great things from Mr Potter and we took
that into consideration... We were expecting another you perhaps... or maybe
even something closer to Mr Riddle, or a combination of his mother's grace and
his father's charm. We were not expecting this."
       "Has Harry done something?" Dumbledore asked, concerned.
       "No..." the Head Examiner sighed. "No... he hasn't done anything wrong."
       "Is there a problem then?"
       "Albus, I'll admit, I didn't quite believe you when you said what you
wanted done with Mr Potter's OWLs but when I saw his Herbology OWL... Albus,
every single answer was perfect. And his Potion OWL... We haven't graded them
yet, mostly because we aren't sure how... I've read both of them though, both
written OWLs and I saw the practicals... They weren't OWL level answers, Albus.
They were, at the very worst, top level NEWT answers!
       "So we... we did something different today with his DADA written OWL.
I'm the only one who's read it Albus, and it scares me," the examiner indicated
towards the parchment. "Take a look."
       Dumbledore reached out and took the small stack of parchment, settling
his glasses into place as he turned it over and looked at the first of the
answers. The handwriting was tiny but the words were neatly formed and precise.
He read the answer carefully, and smiled when he saw that the question was
answered in a concise manner before extra information was offered.
       "It all seems in order," he said finally, looking up.
       "Look back at the front cover."
       The ancient wizard turned the parchment back over and frowned when the
words seemed to blur at him. He blinked rapidly, blue eyes reaching through the
illusion to focus. "This isn't an OWL..."
       "Yes, we gave him the NEWT paper. We're not sure if Mr Potter noticed
but he didn't even blink at it, just started writing... and there are three
scrolls of extra information, all written in the same tiny format, and all just
as accurate as his answer."
       "Defense Against the Dark Arts has always been Harry's specialty,"
Dumbledore said easily.
       "If it was a one off, I might be able to believe that but not when his
Herbology and Potion's papers are similar. No one else has seen this paper yet,
Albus... I'm not sure what to do with it but I want you to tell me one thing
now... what exactly are we testing Mr Potter for?"
       Dumbledore looked up at the ceiling as he breathed deeply. He should
have expected Marchbanks to be like this, especially with Harry producing
outstanding results and he shouldn't have expected anything less from the boy.
"You are testing to see how much information Harry has adsorbed from the Dark
Lord Voldemort," he explained mildly, deciding to go with the truth.
       "We're what?!"
       "You are testing to see..."
       "I heard, I heard... Why are we testing for this? How did it happen?"
       "We will never know what Lily was trying to do beyond protecting Harry,
that night... but whatever it was, it had some unexpected consequences,"
Dumbledore began the explanation, unconsciously echoing some of Tom's words to
Elliot. "Avada Kedrava is a very powerful curse - both in terms of the magic
required to make it work, and the emotion it involves.
       "Bouncing it back, however the combined power of Harry and Lily did it,
had some interesting effects which are only now coming to light, and they are
coming to light because Harry is maturing and can now use what he has always
known.
       "When Tom attacked, in that singular moment there was a sort of bond
formed between him and Harry. It is evident in Harry's scar but it was more
than that. Harry feels pain when Tom is happy and can to some extent know what
he is thinking. It is not something we have asked Harry to use because he is
still a child. When he comes of age, though, the Order will help him to control
it, and to use it in the battle.
       "There was more though. Somehow, Tom's knowledge, or part there of, also
got transferred into Harry. It hasn't been active until now, and we think Tom
may have done something in the past year... So that's what you are testing...
How much information got transferred, so how much information Harry can
possibly use in the battle."
       "I... I see," Marchbanks said slowly.
       "I assure you," Albus said knowingly, "we are aware of the risks, and
Harry is a fully inducted member of the Order of the Phoenix. Fawkes is
checking on him every night and so far there has been nothing even slightly out
of the ordinary beyond the usual teenage woes."
       "That's good to hear." The relief was evident in the Head Examiner's
voice. She had obviously been concerned but uncertain how to phrase the
question.
       Dumbledore nodded reassuringly. By offering this information, he could
skip over some of the rest of it, like what Tom might have done to activate the
information, or why they knew about it in the first place. There were so many
questions he didn't want to answer.
       "If Harry is doing even better than expected then, can you stay a few
more days?"
       "Why?"
       "If Harry says it's okay, I'd like to see how he does in those subjects
he hasn't studied. Tom had extensive knowledge in all areas of magic, but Harry
at least, has never studied things like Arthimancy, and I would be curious to
know if the knowledge he now possesses is activated by his own studying, or if
it's just there for him to call on when he wishes."
       "Ah," Marchbanks nodded as she looked at the situation in abstract,
pretending it was a hypothetical circumstance rather than reality. "That
shouldn't be a problem. I doubt I'm the only one who is curious to see how far
Mr Potter can go. He's going to break all previous grading records, you know."
       Dumbledore smiled, amused. "I know. So how do you think this afternoon's
practical will go?"
       "After reading his paper, I think we're not going to be prepared but I
think we should try for something like the Auror test."
       "A duel?"
       "Yes but only if he passes the rest of it."
       "He will," Dumbledore half closed his eyes as he considered it before he
sighed. It would be a good opportunity to gauge how ready Harry was for combat.
The tests could show him so much, but only mock combat itself could really
begin to show him how long it would be before Harry could enter the battle, and
right at the moment, he didn't have any one who could test the boy properly.
This was too good to pass up, even if the Examiners weren't bound to secrecy...
It was something that would come out eventually. "Be careful," he said finally.
"In combat, even mock combat, Harry could be more dangerous than you realize."
       "We will be," Marchbanks nodded before rising, picking up the parchment
once again and hugging it close. "I have to go, or else there won't be an
afternoon practical."
       Albus nodded. "I will ask Harry about the other exams tonight."
       "I'll start getting the NEWT papers together then," Marchbanks said with
a laugh. "OWL papers hardly seem challenging. And I will look forward to the
day that Harry enters combat. I do believe the Dark Lord will know fear."
       "I will tell you when he is ready," Dumbledore nodded. "Thank you," he
added, ignoring Marchbanks' parting wave as he picked up the duplicate copy of
Harry's exam he had made when looking through it.
       This was very interesting...
===
       Harry blinked as he entered the Great Hall for his practical DADA OWL.
There was someone watching... He shook his head... Of course there was someone
watching, he told himself irritably. The examiners, one or two of the staff,
Blaise and Millicent... they were all watching him...
       :And the vampire up on the third beam to your left.:
       He didn't even look, he just pointed as he turned to the Head Examiner,
"Is he meant to be there?"
       The wizards looked up to see a flicker of movement as the vampire
dodged, flinching back, further into shadow. The quicker of eye tracked the
movement and several raised wands, an assortment of charms half voiced.
       There was a chuckle as the vampire realised he'd been caught and with a
graceful movement he dropped from the beams, landing neatly near the centre of
the Great Hall. "Would it be better if I watched with the other Professors?"
       "It would be better if you didn't watch at all," Marchbanks snapped.
       "My master ordered me to watch, so I've got no real choice."
       :Which one is it?:
       :Ikhan. One of Xeoaph's older children.:
       "It's all right," Harry spoke up again, smiling at Marchbanks. "I don't
mind him watching, I just wondered if he should be. And the Order has a deal
with his master, so it's okay if it's not against any of the rules, or
something like that," he added.
       "Are you sure?"
       "If it's okay with Blaise and Millicent, then it's fine by me," Harry
shrugged.
       Marchbanks turned towards the two Slytherins with as grandmotherly pose
as she could manage. They nodded. Neither of them wanted to get into trouble
and neither of them had even sensed the vampire.
       "Thank you, Mr Potter," Ikhan said smoothly, moving to stand with the
watching Professors, but leaving a small distance between himself and them.
       "Don't thank me just yet, Ikhan," Harry said, his tone cool. "This is
the DADA practical and you are after all one of the things we learn to defend
against."
       "Is that a threat?"
       "Just a warning... But one more thing, tell your master, I don't like
things that hide in shadows."
       "Very well, Sha..." Ikhan paused at the pulse of warning he felt from
Xeoaph. :Master?:
       :Not yet, my childe... Potter is not yet the Shadow Lord.:
       :I understand.:
       :Be careful.:
       :Humph... He can't hurt me.:
       :Shield anyway, because if he hurts or kills you, I will not be able to
object.:
       :He's just a child.:
       :Who will, and is beginning to, wield one of the most dangerous gifts
known to wizards. Even my creator will respect him at full power.:
       Ikhan gulped, nodding mentally in sudden humility. :I will be careful,
Master.:
       "Have you told him?" Harry interrupted their conversation before he
turned back towards the examiner, disinterested in the answer.
       In a darkened room in Hogwarts, Xeoaph blinked as his link to Ikhan was
cut. "You'll be dead," he whispered to himself, knowing somehow that the
fledgling Shadow Lord would find a way to kill Ikhan. It might only be a few
rebel Shadows who served the Dark Lord but it appeared they all shared the
hatred of vampires and had transferred that hatred to their true master. It was
a pity that they would not acknowledge the vampires as the true Masters of
Dark, they could have done so much together and it would be a shame to have to
crush Potter utterly when the time came but the power of dark did not rest with
a mortal.
       Harry looked over to Tofty and smiled reassuringly. After all it wasn't
the examiners fault the vampire was there and it didn't really affect anything.
       Professor Tofty, who had examined him on his Herbology Practical smiled
back at him, albeit a bit wanly before he drew himself up, and with a
determined shrug motioned that Harry should go over to the table.
       "We'll start this off with the usual charms, Harry, and then," he cast a
significant glance at Blaise and Millicent, "once the other's leave we'll move
on to the more advanced things."
       Both Slytherins had worked out that Harry was being tested more
extensively than them. They would have had to have been complete imbeciles not
to have noticed that his practicals, even though this was only their third one,
were taking longer, and that during the written phase he was writing much more
than them. Neither of them had said a word. He didn't expect them to say a
word, but he was slightly curious to know if they really thought anything odd
with the situation, or had just written it off as something that was happening
simply because he was Harry Potter.
       "That sounds good, Professor," Harry said. "What should we do first?"
       Tofty smiled, that vague wishy-washy smile one got from old people but
there was nothing vague about the ancient wizard. "Mr Potter, if you would
please demonstrate the charms that work on a Doxy."
       Harry smiled. He recognised a trick question when he heard it. "There
are many charms which will work on a Doxy," he said, "and if you get bitten you
should take the antidote but is there any particular charm you would like to
see?"
       "No but it is occasionally fun to see what charms some students try. I
should have known that you would have been aware already. On to something that
isn't a trick. There are very few charms that work on Graphorns, please
demonstrate two."
       "None of the charms work very well against them," Harry sighed. "But an
impediment jinx with enough power behind it will have some effect, similar to
how multiple stunning charms on a dragon will take effect."
       "Very good," Tofty said. "Please demonstrate on this tea pot." With a
flick of his wand he cast the Locomotion charm on the tea pot and it began to
run around the table quickly.
       Harry giggled before raising his hand. Despite everything, he still
wasn't happy with using Voldemort's yew wand... At least that's what he was
telling everyone. "Impedima," he said clearly, pointing towards the happily
running tea pot.
       Its little legs froze as the small pulse of power hit it. It trembled on
stiff legs before they gave way and it literally plonked back on to the table,
its lid making a little tinkle as it fell.
       "Wonderful!" the examiner said as his charm was cancelled. He was used
to Harry not using a wand now but it had been a surprise during the first exam.
"How about the second charm?"
       "Cataract curse," Harry said easily. "The only problem is aiming," he
added.
       "That shouldn't be a problem this time," Tofty said as a rabbit appeared
on the table next to the tea pot.
       Harry smiled at the memories as he gathered his power again. This was
the very charm Sirius had been about to suggest to him to fight the dragon with
in his fourth year. It was amusing that he would be tested on it now. Of course
his Godfather had never been able to suggest it, but it was still a good
memory.
       The charm hit the rabbit neatly and very quickly its red eyes clouded to
a milky white. It was perhaps a misnomer to call the curse a cataract curse
when essentially it caused blindness through the milky white film not cataracts
but it was effective either way.
       "Good," Tofty said as he dismissed the charm and the rabbit and tea pot
disappeared, no doubt thanks to the efforts of the House Elves.
       A chest appeared in front of them. It rattled slightly.
       "A boggart?" Harry questioned.
       "Exactly."
       Harry grinned. The conversations with his Godfather were a good memory,
but they wouldn't serve now.
       Oh shit, Harry thought with unfamiliar vehemence remembering something
that should have been obvious. The boggart would turn into what he feared and
right now his biggest fear was being found out. He wasn't sure how the boggart
would transform to show that but he wasn't eager to find out.
       "Confundus" he whispered under his breath, pointing towards the chest.
All he had to do was confuse it, and that was easy if you knew how. After all,
Barty Crouch had done it to the Goblet of Fire which technically speaking was a
magical being, so why couldn't he do it to the boggart?
       At least, he hoped he could. At least let it turn into something
believable, Harry sighed desperately as Tofty flicked open the lid and stepped
back to stand behind the box so that the boggart would only see Harry. He could
decide what to do to make it funny once he saw it.
       There was a pulse of darkness as the lid rose. Harry's eyes narrowed as
he looked at the emerging energy.
       There was one thing he feared more than being found out he realised
belatedly... and it was a fear so strong his Confundus charm would not be
enough.
       Harry gulped. Icy tendrils wrapped themselves around his heart as the
boggart began to take shape. It wavered for a moment, lurking in the darkness
as it seemed confused but then there was no hesitation as it finally took the
shape of a man.
       "No," he whispered taking a step back. Around the Great Hall, Harry was
only vaguely aware of all eyes turning towards him to see his fear.
       Emerald eyes looked at him sparkling happily, black hair was as messily
alluring as always and cherry lips were curved in a smile that mirrored the
eyes happiness. Black robes fell around the man not obscuring but only
enhancing his lithe beauty.
       "I killed her."
       :I killed him.:
       A pale hand reached out, palm upward and smeared with a tacky redness,
and Harry could see in the other hand the knife that had split the blood with
terrible clarity. A snake pattern was etched into the blade although it was
partially obscured by blood and rubies and emeralds adorned the hilt.
       He knew that dagger.
       "See? Isn't her blood beautiful?"
       :See? Isn't his blood beautiful?:
       For a moment all Harry could see was red, the red of blood, freshly
split and his pupils contracted, becoming mere dots in a sea of green.
       "No," he repeated, although this time not in fear. "It's not beautiful,"
he growled, as he raised his hand, forcing his mind away from the fear and rage
that was consuming him, forcing himself to think of an appropriate picture.
       "This is beautiful," he said as his mind locked on to the image.
"Rediculous," he said, releasing his energy at the boggart that had taken his
form.
       It was silly but there was only a limited number of things he could do
without revealing everything. He imagined the black robes to be yellow, with
daisy's on them in bright orange, purple and blue. The blood on the boggart's
hands turned into petals which fluttered to the ground and the dagger
transfigured itself into a single blue long stemmed rose.
       "The flower is beautiful but the rest of you is ridiculous. Good bye,"
Harry said firmly, glaring as the boggart's image wavered. He didn't laugh but
the complete lack of fear was enough to confuse the being.
       It looked confused before it squealed in a pitch that was so low it was
almost a keen before the boggart became riddled with cracks that shattered
giving only the briefest glimpse of a shadow that might have been the boggart's
true form but could have been nothing more than the after image of fear.
       Tofty clapped. "Very good, very good!" He exclaimed happily, pushing the
chest closed. He sympathetically patted Harry on the shoulder when he saw that
his examinee was still pale. "It won't happen," he said soothingly. "If you
fear it that much, it will not happen."
       Harry gulped, trying to settle his nerves as he reminded himself that
Tofty had not heard all that he had and nothing was considered out of place. He
was scared of that though. "Thank you," he said, standing up straighter and
casting his eyes around the hall to see the reactions of the others.
       Blaise and Millicent had already turned back towards their own examiners
and from the looks of things they were almost finished. A few of the other
examiners where looking at him curiously, no doubt trying to work out who she
was that he would fear so much, while the others were looking away. Well, no
doubt they'd find out soon enough who she was since he doubted that such a
secret would be able to be kept forever. Not when he had appearances to
maintain.
       The vampire looked... bored. He looked bored but he wasn't. There were
sharp lines of interest around his eyes directly clashing with the lazy pout on
his lips. Everything would be reported back to his Master before the day was
out.
       "Just ignore them and we will continue," Tofty said softly.
       Harry nodded, watching from the corner of his eye as the two Slytherin
students bowed towards their examiners and left the Hall.
       "Given the current situation," Tofty was saying, "I don't think it
unreasonable for me to test you on the standard anti Vampire charms. While we
don't have one on hand for you to demonstrate on, unless our watcher would like
to participate...?"
       Ikhan shook his head. "Sorry, not even for the sake of learning."
       "Ah," Tofty said smiling. "In that case Harry, just demonstrate there,"
he pointed. "There are some physical manifestations that can be graded. Is that
enough out of range for you?" the Professor asked, looking back towards their
vampire watcher.
       Ikhan rolled his eyes, "Yes." He hissed shortly.
       "Good. Are you ready, Mr Potter?"
       Harry nodded, only half listening.
       :Be careful, Master,: the shadows warned.
       :Why?:
       :These are charms of the light, and that is your power. Not even
Dumbledore will be able to rival you with these charms.:
       :I'll try.: Harry reassured them but he wasn't confident of his ability
to fully limit the light. As they had said, it was his power, it over flowed
from him, it was him and that wasn't something that could be controlled.
       "Solaris," Harry said softly, using as little power as possible.
       The light pooled in his hand, like a small lumos charm, only much
brighter. It was pure white and shone like a star as the light poured out from
between his fingers.
       "Wonderful," Tofty cried but then swung around at the muffled gasp of
pain.
       Ikhan hissed, shielding his eyes from the light. The little globe hurt,
it hurt more than the real sun and with another hiss of frustration he ducked
behind one of the pillars in the Hall, and watched from the safety of the
shadow as beams of light streamed past.
       :Weakling,: there was a whisper in his mind and the vampire looked up to
see the darkness skittered but he couldn't help but notice that the shadows
were also avoiding the still streaming light.
       "Humph!" he snorted, deliberately stepping back as the light began to
fade. It still stung, still burned his eyes but he was not going to be out
done. Vampires were masters of the dark. He might not be a full master, like
his sire, Xeoaph or his sire but he would not be out done by a shadow.
       He suppressed a hiss at the hint of green laughing at him, as the other
two students bowed towards their instructors and left. He was not going to be
chased away by the shadow master.
       "I think that's just about it, unless..." Tofty smiled looking up at
Harry. "There are many charms to deal with many of the dark creatures, however
there is one charm that works without fail against any dark creature."
       "The Patronus," Harry supplied, already knowing what Professor Tofty was
going to ask.
       "Yes, and I heard from my dear friend Tiberus Ogden that you could... So
now, not that you need it, for a bonus mark..?"
       Harry grinned, winnowing through his mind for an appropriately happy
thought. The shadows hissed and Harry didn't even see them dodge everywhere in
an effort to remain in shadow. "Expecto Patronum!" he called, raising his hand
as he remembered warm arms sliding around him and there was a presence in his
mind and body that spoke of nothing but love and acceptance. There was a
responding tingle in his groin that he ignored as light exploded around him.
       The familiar form of the stag shot forth, somehow more defined than it
had ever been. Every muscle was visible, rippling just below the hide of light
and you could almost hear the tap of hoof on stone. Antlers bristled and seemed
impossibly huge and draped around the animals neck, rising and falling
gracefully as the stag galloped around the Great Hall was a threaded necklace
of lilies.
       "Bravo!" Professor Tofty clapped happily, turning his eyes back to
Harry. "Bra..." the cheer faded in his throat as he looked at the Boy-Who-
Lived.
       Most wizards when they performed the Patronus were only capable of
summoning a vague hazy light. Others could summon something that resembled
their Patronus' true form but only about one in ten wizards, unless under great
stress, when that number rose a little, could summon a fully defined Patronus
but it hadn't been since the days of the charm's creation that Tofty had heard
of anyone capable of summoning the aurora sactishieldus - the Sacred Shield of
Light.
       But that was the only explanation for what he was seeing.
       Harry was surrounded by a shining white nimbus. It almost looked like he
was burning as it rippled around him in waves, wisps curling upwards in a
continuous motion and as he watched he saw the wisps gather together to arch
high over Harry's head before they swept back down to the floor. The whole
thing was moving, like ribbons being woven together to form some protective
barrier. Against the light, Harry's black hair seemed all the more darker,
while his robes almost seemed bleached of colour.
       Harry didn't notice any of this though, his eyes were closed and there
was the softest smile on his lips indicating that whatever memory he was lost
within was gentle and happy beyond words.
       The knowledge comforted Tofty and he was about to reach out to rouse
Harry when a scream caused him to turn back towards the Great Hall.
       The stag had found the vampire and with more strength than any Patronus
should have was herding the dark being into a corner. It was using sweeps of
its great antlers and lightning fast kicks from small hooves as it moved and
Tofty and the other watchers couldn't do anything more than stare transfixed at
events.
       Eventually Ikhan could not retreat any further and for a moment the stag
stilled, head raised magnificently before it lowered glowing antlers, pawed the
ground and charged.
       "No!" Ikhan cried, gathering his power but by then it was too late and
the sharp points of the stag's antlers had pierced his vampiric body. Smoke
rose from the wounds and Ikhan writhed, screaming as his flesh burnt. The stag
was indifferent and Harry was beyond hearing as the vampire reached out,
imploringly to him. "Please, Master!"
       The desperate plea did nothing and the stag raised its head, the vampire
still impaled upon its horns before it turned back and began trotting towards
its creator, tossing the still screaming vampire like it was some obscene game.
On the wall where Ikhan had been impaled there were now black scratches almost
as if the marks had been burnt there but the insubstantial antlers of the
patronus.
       Halfway back to Harry Ikhan stopped screaming and in true vampiric style
his body disintegrated between one toss and the next. The stag danced sideways
rather fastidiously avoiding the falling ash before it dismissed the remains
with a jaunty flick of its tail and resumed trotting back towards its master
who was still oblivious to the world.
       It was a slightly worrying sight, having just seen what the stag was
capable of, when it carefully lowered its head, tilting its antlers away from
its master and bumped its head into Harry's chest.
       Emerald eyes flickered open at the contact and almost instinctually he
reached out to touch his protective animal. It shuddered under the touch,
contact only made possible because Harry was still surrounded by light. The
stag seemed content as Harry stroked its nose. After a moment though it drew
back raising its head to allow brilliant white eyes to meet with emerald before
it vanished.
       As the light faded from around Harry there was an almost audible break
in tension from the examiners and watchers as Harry returned to normal.
       Tofty took a deep breath before turning back to Harry, meeting his eyes
but quickly turning away, the blush of a much younger man staining his cheeks
as he recognised the cause of the cloudiness in sparkling green eyes.
       A happy memory indeed. He would have to warn the young man about such
power but for now they had an OWL to complete.
===
       Harry looked around with narrowed eyes, shifting his grip on the wand.
His fingers were sweaty. Not from fear, but from nerves. He didn't want to do
too well here. That was what was making him nervous.
       He'd agreed to this perhaps a little too easily. There were a mixture of
Aurors, Professors - Order members all, and some of the younger, sprightlier
examinations Professors were facing him.
       Apparently this was what they meant by advanced examination. A duel.
       Harry grimaced as he recalled the instructions for this test. "Show us
what you can do." What they really meant was show us the extent of your power.
The Order must be getting desperate to have him as a fighter, although he knew
Voldemort hadn't done anything recently. After the loss of his base, he was
still regrouping, although everyone was expecting at least a token reprisal.
       They didn't know the Dark Lord, though. Why make a token reprisal when
you could wait slightly longer and attack at full strength? Harry didn't know
what the attack was going to be, but he had felt his beloved planning it.
       Right now, however, that wasn't his concern. He had the last bit of his
DADA Practical OWL to get through, and the rest of his OWLs to complete. The
Order and the Dark Lord would clash again and again because at the moment
neither force had the manpower needed to land a decisive blow; that was
probably the reason why he was standing here. The Order was hoping he could
become the power they required to win. He'd said it himself; he would be the
weapon.
       And to be the weapon, he had to win here.
       The shadows were wrapped around him, so that even if any of the
surrounding witches and wizards were more powerful than expected, he would be
safe. Theoretically, he should be safe anyway, as this was just a test. 
However, when dueling at the level that was expected here, there could be no
such thing as absolute safe guards. The shadows were under his robes, forming a
protective layer against his skin; he could feel them moving slowly. They were
as powerful as always, and had been invigorated by their recent feast, but it
was also making them slightly sluggish.  Hence, they had chosen the direct
option of protecting him, physically manifesting themselves against him, so
that if anything got past his defenses, it would not get past them.
       Standing apart from the group surrounding him were watchers.  The
examination professors who were too old, some members of the Order, and some
members of staff were gathered on the far side of the Hall, next to the remains
of Ikhan.  They were watching from behind a protective barrier that had been
slung between two pillars. The area had been designated safe, although whether
it would remain that way was anyone's guess. Dumbledore wasn't present, but
Harry was sure he was watching somehow.
       The duel was to be magical, physical, and any combination of the two
that the combatants could carry out. There were other duelists waiting to take
the place of the fallen and it would continue until Harry surrendered or was
knocked out, or until there was no one left to fight. From the self-assured
arrogance Harry could feel from the few Aurors who had agreed to fight a fifth
year student, they were expecting this to be easy. They really should just who
the fifth year student they were fighting was.
       He loosened and tightened his fingers on the yew wand once more,
lowering his head slightly to look over the rims of his glasses at the leading
Auror, the smile of a much older man appearing on his lips as he took the
initiative.
       "Serpentsortia!" He said easily, hissing further instructions as the
snake materialized into existence. -Wrap around me and hinder physical attacks.
Only attack yourself when the opportunity presents itself.-
       -Yes, Master.-
       Harry felt some of his attackers draw back. The charm was one usually
used by Slytherins, with their affinity for serpents, but without parseltougue
they couldn't use the true power of the summoned serpent; they just relied on
it attacking the first thing it saw. No strategy at all.
       "You said to show what I could do."
       "We did indeed, boy, we did indeed," one of the Aurors replied with a
chuckle. It was one of the older ones, one who knew how much the Ministry
needed the help and was prepared to take it from anywhere.  "Impedimenta," they
snapped the curse out.
       The serpent that was now loosely wrapped around Harry flicked its tail
contemptuously, blocking the curse and rebounding it back towards another
wizard who wasn't nimble enough to dodge. As a magical construct it was only
minimally affected by magic other than that of its creator, unless, of course,
its controlling magical node was destroyed. That was the true advantage of
summoning things in battle.
       Harry nudged the serpent with his toe, indicating that he was going to
move before he leapt at the unfortunate wizard who was struggling to remain
balanced. The man saw him coming, brown eyes snapped wide when he realized he
was out of this battle. A quick tap to the wizard’s temple and Harry was
jumping back to the protective coils of the serpent, the trained Aurors only
now beginning to catch up. They obviously hadn't expected him to be so direct.
       One down, lots more to go, Harry thought.
       A couple of the older witches and wizards, mostly the examination
professors who were sprightly enough to be joining in, had taken advantage of
his opening moves and had grouped themselves together, two of them weaving a
barrier around the group. The others were chanting longer and more complicated
charms. They'd probably been combat Aurors when they were younger. They knew
how to fight.
       "Protes!" Harry said, casting the multi-purpose protection charm around
himself. Whatever the older group was going to attack with, it would show their
wisdom and he had full respect for that.
       "Sonici, Darkshale," Harry continued, casting before the Aurors forced
him into protective motions. Still, the sound waves weakened one of the Order
members enough for the Darkshale to take effect. Unfortunately, one of the
other Order members cast the counter before Harry could finish her.
       Two Aurors ran up behind him, hoping to grab him before the snake
noticed but the serpent spun snapping at them, fangs glistening and they
quickly retreated slightly, drawing their weapons as they prepared to draw the
snake away.
       Harry suppressed a grin, casting a quick glance towards the older
professors who were still chanting. There were three groups attacking him but
they weren't working together and if he dodged right he could have one group
take out another. 
       The examination professors were being cautious, as expected from the
experience gained through the years. They had taken the standard approach -
establish defenses then attack. They'd also seen what he was capable of over
the past few practical OWLs, which was probably why they were taking so long
with these charms, hoping that he couldn't counter them immediately. In
general, the longer the charm took to cast, the longer the counter charm took;
in combat, you couldn't afford to waste time. But that was only true if you
didn't have the sheer power to simply nullify the curse through will alone.
That's what made fighting wizards of Dumbledore and Voldemort's strength so
challenging. They didn't always need the words to make their magic work; they
only needed the will behind their power.
       The Aurors were more used to combat but they weren't all from the same
Unit, hence the physical attacks from some while the others preferred magic as
each ran through their Unit's usual initial attack pattern.
       And finally, the Order members were working together; what they lacked
in experience they were making up for in teamwork, each looking out for each
other, but only occasionally looking out for the Aurors or Professors.
       Still, against him, who only had to worry about himself, the gaps in the
wholes defenses should be enough to bring them down. 
       "Pel'seld!" The examination Professors finished chanting, moving their
wands as one as they gestured towards the serpent that was currently providing
most of Harry's protection.
       The Protes barrier helped but there were coils of the serpent that
weren’t completely protected and the professors had aimed at them. The snake
gave a surprised hiss, its coal black eyes widening slightly as the magic hit
it and travelled inwards towards the small node of controlling magic. Harry
hissed as well, as the first waves of the Pel'seld struck his spell and began
unravelling it. He could have reinforced it, forcing the serpent to remain in
existence but he decided to let it go, hissing one last order towards it.
       -Attack!-
       The snake was fading but recognized the last command of its master,
surging forward, fangs barred to attack the Aurors with their weapons drawn.
The impact was not as great as it should have been because the magic was
untangling but having an eight foot long snake spring at you was enough to
unsettle most wizards, and two of the Aurors went down under the disappearing
coils of the serpent. A third was bitten and wobbled for a few moments before
falling, as the poison took effect.
       "He's only asleep," Harry reassured everyone, in between casting several
charms towards the various groups, as he began hopping around to avoid their
continuing attacks.
       The watchers were stunned. While the level of magic displayed so far was
not excessive, the precision was. Watching was beautiful, both for the sheer
accuracy being displayed by all involved, and because many of the spells or
counter-charms were very pretty when cast. The splash of curses against magical
shields was especially enthralling and as Harry cast a series of curses towards
the Professors, the radiance reflected from their shield caused many watchers
to sigh at the utter splendour.
       Emerald eyes narrowed as Harry continued to dodge, bringing his left
hand up to reinforce his shield. The Aurors were beginning to attack physically
now, so he had to dodge both charms and swords and it almost felt like he was
dancing... not that he really knew how to dance, he recalled ruefully. He kept
looking over to the Professors, sensing from them the greatest danger.
       The Aurors didn't believe he was capable, and while they were fast
losing that belief with every spell and attack he dodged, they wouldn't
completely lose it until they were defeated.
       The Order knew what he was capable of, but he could sense from them
still a sense of awe, a reticence to attack another Order member, or maybe just
to attack him. He was sure that they would lose that before he was through
though.
       From the Professors though... they knew what he could do, and they were
serious about this fight. They weren't holding back. In fact, Harry could sense
from the sidelines that a few of them, who were watching were split as to who
they should be cheering for. Tofty though was unashamedly cheering him on.
       Harry grinned as the old wizard's voice broke through to everyone.
"Don't hold back Harry!" There was a gleeful note in Tofty's voice, mixed with
a certain amount of pride, and Harry could almost see the man reminiscing in
the future that he had examined Harry Potter himself.
       "All right," he whispered waving towards Tofty as he gathered himself.
"Are you ready?" Harry asked conversationally, turning to face the Professors.
       "Any time you are, pup," one of them responded.
       "Let's go!" He said suddenly, tossing his wand from his right to left
hand as the Sword of Gryffindor materialized before him. He tapped his foot
lightly on the stone beneath him once before jumping into action. "Shatterous!
Sonici, Petrifus Totalus, Darkshale!" The first curse was directed towards
their shield, which with a slice from his sword collapsed, and the other three
towards the two wizards who had been holding the shield; sonici to weaken them
and the other two to finish them. The two collapsed but were caught by their
fellows.
       Harry jumped away, grinning as some of the Aurors attacks missed him and
hit the gathered Professors, taking out two more. "Thanks," he said cheekily,
jumping back and around to attack the members of the Order.
       The Order members had decided to apply a similar technique to the one
used by the Professors, and stood in regimented lines, each one backing up the
others. There was a shimmering shield held around the whole group by the back
row, leaving the other two rows free to attack. He guessed that the front row
would be purely offensive while the middle row would concentrate on
neutralizing his attacks before they could break the shield. It was neat,
efficient and logical.
       And he would require some time to wear them down.
       With a flick of his left hand, he sent a jolt of raw magic through the
wand towards the Aurors, smiling wanly as it sent them flying. There had only
been two left, and while there was a second wave to come, Harry wagered that
they'd take their time to consider their actions before they rushed into this
duel. And while the Auror's were considering, the Professors were regrouping,
and that gave him time to deal with the Order.
       Harry angled his shield to face the Order, but he kept a part of it
facing the Professors in case they recovered quicker than expected. The shield
extended around him completely, the angling of it was more focusing on where it
was strongest. He flicked Gryffindor's sword around and jammed the point
between two flagstones so that he could cast with both hands. 
       This is going to be interesting. Harry thought as he gathered himself
slightly, looking over at the Order members.  Right hand defense, left attack.
He thought to himself as he tried to formulate a plan.
       "Darkshale, Absentia, Impedimenta, Petrifus totalus!" The first wave of
jinxes from the Order were designed to test his reactions and defenses. With a
frown he flicked his right hand up, reinforcing his shield and letting the
curses splash against it. They had an idea of how good his attacking abilities
were. It was time to demonstrate defense. But he wasn't going to be a sitting
duck.
       "Omiasma," Harry said, gesturing with his left hand and was pleased to
see that the very stones seemed to spew forth an obscuring haze. He quickly
took two steps to the left and grinned as something pinged into the place he
had been standing.
       "Zephyr." 
       Harry didn't recognize the voices but he guessed it was the second row
of the Order when a breeze sprang out of no-where and began pushing the mists
away. The mist quickly became tattered and as soon as his outline was visible
the first row resumed their task. He nodded to himself. The arrangement was
indeed efficient.
       "Furnunculus, Shatterous, Sonici." He grinned as he recognized some of
his own jinxes being cast back, but he wasn't going to make it that easy and
dove and rolled out of the way of the sound waves. Even with a shield, they
would be painful. 
       "Solaris!" He cried, this time putting as much effort into the brilliant
charm as he dared risk. The light was incredible and his eyes watered as he
dodged left again. If his eyes were watering, and he had the natural protection
of both casting the spell and a power of light, then it must be blinding to the
Order members it was directed at. He began muttering a longer charm under his
breath, not wanting to give them any warning. It wasn't an attack, rather a
defense but it looked like he was going to need it.
       It took a few moments longer this time for the counter to be cast. After
all, this charm wasn't one you wanted to counter that often. "Tsukiyoru!" The
counter charm might have been delayed but the follow up curses weren't.
       "Shatterous, Gomu Gomu, Etalosi, Lohalgewing, Stilletos."
       The edge of the seeming hail of stilettos slammed up against his shield
as Harry ducked away. They were compensating nicely for his movement and he was
going to have to take the initiative soon, or else they would just wear him
down. Pure magical curses against the strength of a protes shield was okay, but
they knew as did he, that physically based charms were the way to bring it
down.
       Harry paused in his low chant, borrowing a move directly from the Dark
Lord's battle with Lucius, except that he didn't aim up. "Masonitroy," he
called, aiming his power into the large stones on the floor just before the
Order's shield. The stone shattered and Harry frowned as he thought he heard
something cry out in pain. From the broken rock a fine powder rose, surrounding
the Order members, and Harry resumed his chant.
       "Zephyr." The counter was repeated.
       "Sonici!" The entire offensive line cried, obviously hoping to create a
wave wide enough to catch him in. And being a combined physical and magical
attack it should be strong enough to take down his shield, even if it did
nothing else.
       "Komarachni," was echoed in the call of the Sonici, one of them had
obviously got the instructions wrong.
       Harry grinned, whispering the final words on his charm as his next move
dawned upon him with almost terrible clarity. "Sheltol," the magically
generated sound waves broke through his protes only to be halted by the
stronger almost absolute barrier. The magic dissipated in colorful rainbows and
Harry pursed his lips as he looked around for the effects of the other charm
before he realized that none of the Order members had made a mistake. It was
the opening move of the second round of Aurors.
       He had to finish with the Order quickly. Because he'd been using so much
light magic, Fawkes' presence was awake in his mind, and that was one of the
reasons he hadn't been commanding the shadows. Besides, it added to the view
that while he knew about them and could control them he was still new at it.
But with Fawkes awake, that meant he could contact the other Order members.
       This was going to hurt.
       Emerald eyes narrowed as Harry grabbed at the mental presence of the
firebird. There was an indignant squawk but the bird's defenses were low
because no one was meant to be able to do this. He clenched his teeth, lowering
his gaze as he prepared to strike, ignoring the small struggles the phoenix was
making against his grip. In his own mind, he ruled supreme and the bird needed
reminding of that.
       Harry did though, as he reached out through the phoenix to touch the
other Order members, ensure that he was only reaching towards those who were
present in the Great Hall. There was no need to incapacitate the entire Order
and he rather imagined that as soon as he released Fawkes, the bird would be
reinforcing his mental defenses within every Order member to ensure that no one
else even attempted this. 
       He grimaced as he forcefully called forth some memories and literally
threw them with some of the feelings they invoked into the minds of the other
Order members. The memory of the pain of the cruciatus curse made his bones
ache and the mind shattering fear he had felt witnessing the rebirth of the
Dark Lord almost made him whimper but for the other warm memories were his true
thoughts on Voldemort which wrapped around him like a blanket, hidden from the
phoenix, but supportive. 
       The other members of the Order did not have such protection though and
while they wouldn't see the memories, they would experience the emotions and
the pain. As expected they screamed, even Fawkes screamed and there was a
visible flinching from the watchers as they tried to see what Harry had done.
Several of them fell, hugging themselves as they tried to ease the pain and
through his own pain, Harry tried to lift the memories as much as he could from
them, redirecting the energy towards those holding the shield.
       When it fell, it happened all at once because the Order members seemed
to fall in unison, probably because Fawkes' presence retreated forcefully from
them all as the phoenix tried to escape Harry's grasp. A single crack appeared
in the shield and raced with lightning speed over the entire surface. It almost
looked like a feather, or the veins on a left. And then, the segments of the
shield vanished, the magic returning into the streams that flowed through
Hogwarts.
       Harry gasped pulling back the memories and releasing Fawkes, and spat
one further curse "Stupefy! Bounce!" He added the instruction, willing his
magic to obey. Fawkes' mental presence vanished almost entirely from him but
the Order's tattoo itched. It was not something he could attend to now though. 
       The curse hit the leading Order members and knocked them out but instead
of vanishing when its target was unconscious, this jinx ricocheted hitting
further Order members until it almost looked like a small pile of dominoes
falling. He didn't get a chance to admire his handiwork because the shadows
screamed into his ear.
       :Master, dodge right!: The lingering phantom pain from the memory of
cruciatus eased as he jumped, grabbing Gryffindor's sword as he rolled on the
hard stones and sprang to his feet, turning to glare at what had attacked him.
       At least that answered the question of where the Komarachni summon had
gone.
       The summoned spider was huge. It was as big as one of Hagrid's
Acromantulas and by the streams of magic all over it; it was the result of the
combined summons of two... no three Aurors in the second wave.
       Harry smiled, shaking off the last of the phantom pain as he lowered his
glasses to look directly into the spider's six plate-like eyes. 
       The spider jerked, its legs skittering and tapping heavily on the stones
as it tried to back away but the Aurors held it firmly into position. Emerald
eyes continued to stare and under the pressure the spider began swaying from
side to side.
       He could see the sweat beginning to form on the Auror's brows and the
questions forming on some of the watchers lips and deliberately stuck his
tongue out, distracting them. The Aurors started, that he could be so childish
and in their moment of inattention the spider popped out of existence.
       "Huh?"
       The blurted question came from the watchers who were still behind their
shield at the far end of the Hall. Harry guessed that they'd been able to
follow everything else, even if everything else was at times, things he should
not yet be able to do, but the dispelling of a summon was not meant to be that
easy. He shrugged. They said to show them what he could do.
       "Let's finish this," Harry invited, glancing between the second wave of
gathered Aurors and the few examination professors who had pulled themselves
away from their fallen companions to continue the duel. 
       Harry flicked his wrist, returning the Sword of Gryffindor to his aura
before he slid his wand back into the holster in the small of his back. With
his hands free he brought them together in front of him, cupping them as he
gathered the power. The Aurors and Professors were attacking but his sheltol
was holding. 
       A soft gentle light pooled in his hands and he pulled them apart, making
the light bigger before he nodded. 
       The shadows had been waiting and rushed forward to consume the light he
offered to them. They greedily ate it and as he replenished it, further shadows
came forth to partake of the bounty. The power sphere in his hands changed from
light to dark but kept growing larger with each moment, and it was with
sparkling eyes that Harry raised it over his head.
       With a sudden motion he pulled his hands down, flinging light shards
everywhere. The shadows scattered, pursuing their food, and Harry grinned as
they whipped around the room, knocking out both the still attacking Aurors and
Professors.
       A few even slipped through the defensive barrier of the watchers and
knocked one or two of them out.
       It wasn't as chaotic as it looked. Harry hadn't just released his
servants without restraint, no matter what it might look like to anyone
watching. He didn't control their entire movement but he had made it clear to
them that they were to do no more than to knock out his attackers. They were
not to eat any of the Aurors or Professors, or Order members’ light. Not yet,
not now. 
       He wasn't ready for it and he couldn't reveal himself.
       They had agreed easily, and for the little chore that this was, they had
been well feed today with what he had given them anyway.
       From the far side of the great Hall there came the sound of one pair of
hands clapping and Harry looked over tiredly to see Sirius standing there.
"Absolute victory," the man said looking around as he moved into the room.
       There were three piles of people - the examination Professors, the
Aurors and the members of the Order - and all of them were unconscious. A few
of the watchers were also unconscious and were already being tended to by their
companions. Some of the watchers began moving towards the others to begin
helping them.
       Sirius walked up to Harry, laying one hand on his shoulder gently. "Are
you okay?" he asked.
       Harry smiled wanly, nodding. "Just a bit tired."
       "It's to be expected," Sirius said. "You're still not of age." The
animagus turned black eyes towards Professor Tofty, who was carefully
approaching Harry. "You've got enough information for his examination?"
       "Yes, yes, more than enough," the old wizard said. 
       "Good, then I'm sure you won't object to me taking Harry, so that this,"
he flicked his free hand in the direction of Harry's opponents, "can be cleaned
up."
       "No, no, that's fine," Tofty said. "I just wanted to congratulate young
Harry on a job very well done."
       "Thank you, Sir."
       "Now go, your Godfather is right. This will resolve itself faster if you
aren't here."
       Harry nodded and allowed Sirius to steer him from the Great Hall.
However he didn't miss the way his Godfather was muttering under his breath and
he rather imagined that Sirius would get very little sleep tonight because one,
he'd get lectured on showing his abilities so openly and two the Aurors would
no doubt want an explanation from the Order about how it was possible for a
fifth year student to be so powerful.
       He shrugged. It wasn't his concern. Not yet. The outcome of today should
get him into combat quicker, which would hopefully allow everything to finish
sooner.
       Probably not, but at least he would feel that he was moving in the right
direction.
 
 
Chapter End Notes
     Darkshale - Casts darkness around the individual targeted meaning
     that they can't see and thus can't fight
     Gomu Gomu - Rubber (anyone watched One Piece?)– A curse that makes
     your body behave like rubber
     Italosi - isolate – sensory deprivation curse
     Komarachni - 'Come Arachnid', Come Spider - Summoning spell for a
     spider, similar to Serpentosia
     Lohalgewing - Howling Gale – fairly self-explanatory
     Omiasma - Miasma – usually an evil aura or like but in this case an
     obscuring mist
     Pel'sled - long, multipurpose charm that removes or disables other
     charms. It's the word 'De-spell' rearranged.
     Shatterous – shatter – breaks things
     Sheltol - contraction of Shelter and Total - Total Shelter – a very
     strong shield.
     Solaris - Like a very bright version of Lumos, but also creates
     natural sunlight so is good for use against vampires.
     Sonici - Sonic - A sound attack utilizing sound waves to paralyze the
     target
     Tsukiyoru - Tsuki = Moon, Yoru = Night - Moon Night - Dampens the
     light from a Solaris charm into the more gentle light from the moon.
     Zephyr - Wind to blow away the obscuring haze.
***** The Information On Hand *****
Weapon
Chapter 10 The Information On Hand
===
       Sirius stroked back black hair as emerald eyes blinked sleepily at him.
He'd escorted Harry from the Great Hall after his duel with the Aurors, Order
and Examiners and his Godson had made it to the stairs before he'd collapsed
and had to be carried.
       He should have been expecting it. His godson was eager to prove himself
and had possibly revealed too much of his abilities. The animagus could almost
hear the Aurors... discussing things with Albus through the bond of the Order.
Those Aurors who were still conscious were not taking well to being beaten up
by a fifteen-year-old boy. But... they could work with this situation, and it
would only strengthen the position of the Order and in the long run, the more
dependent on the Order the Ministry was, the easier it would be to destroy them
utterly. For now though, they would have to play to Harry's obvious exhaustion
from the battle.
       While he had won, he was tired and that could be used to sooth the
Aurors since most of them, when they woke up would be fully rested. They, the
Aurors would be comforted by the fact that victory had taken everything Harry
had to give.
       This time.
       Black eyes glittered with mirth. It might have exhausted Harry to wield
that much power this time, but he was not yet of age. His power was great but
it had not matured and his body couldn't handle extended usage of it. That
would come with practice and maturity - of his body, and his power. Sirius
doubted that many of the Aurors would truly understand what that would mean.
       They had been defeated by a boy who couldn't fully utilise his abilities
simply because he was too young, but once he gained the maturity, and it was
maturity the Order would be rushing upon him, Harry would be able to use his
full abilities, at full power almost indefinitely, and then...
       Well... Sirius smiled softly down at his Godson who had fallen asleep
during his brief introspection. As he had told Remus, they - the Order, and he
suspected soon the Ministry - had put Harry into the position where his will
would decide it all, but yet they had not checked what his will truly was. They
deserved what they were going to get. It would be an interesting time.
       He knew he should feel some urge to warn them or to protect the Order
but somehow he couldn't do it. Every time he tried to speak about it he would
remember wide green eyes clouded with pain, the way he had seen them in the
memories of Harry's time with the Dursley's, or he'd see them mirrored with
fear, the way they had been when they had rescued Harry from the Dark Lord,
although rescued was a relative term, and his heart contracted sympathetically.
He had no idea of the pain his Godson had endured, he didn't want to know, but
he knew that if this would make Harry happy then he would support it. It wasn't
the Order or the Ministry's fault but every time he remembered those eyes he
was reminded that his Godson was his life and he owed it to the memory of Lily
and James to make sure that their child was happy, even if that meant
destroying everything they had held dear, everything they had died for. They
would understand.
       Harry wouldn't be able to sleep as peacefully as he did if they didn't
understand.
       And so he remained silent.
       Sirius rose from the bed, making sure the covers were snug around Harry
before he flipped the curtains closed on the canopy. He should go help Albus
argue that Harry's abilities were appropriate for one who was expected to go
against the Dark Lord. After all, how did they expect Harry to win against a
man who could destroy any of them with a mere flick of his hand, who's
abilities they all recognised as overwhelming, if his own abilities were not
overwhelming to the ordinary wizard?
       Logic had never been the Ministry's or the Auror's strong point, not as
organisations. The canine animagus hoped the individuals here would see the
point. He wasn't sure what they would do, or even what could be done if they
didn't acknowledge it but if they didn't see logic, or at least see Harry as a
weapon they could use to fight then things were going to get messy.
       Just before he pulled the door closed he cast black eyes around the room
looking deep into the shadows. They seemed to blink back at him and Sirius
smiled, closing the door and casting a minor security charm on it before he
turned to exit his quarters. It was comforting to know that Harry was never
alone.
       Right now he wasn't sure he wanted to leave Harry alone.
===
       Albus forced himself to remain calm as several Aurors shouted at him
together. They were not happy with this afternoon's proceedings and were
demanding 'answers'. Although what answers he could give them beyond what they
already knew was anyone's guess. His office seemed crowded with so many people
in it, and some of the paintings had made themselves scarce, preferring to find
somewhere quieter to spend their evening, or more likely, preferring to watch
from a place that was not so obvious. Albus could see some inconspicuous
clusters of watchers on one or two of the paintings that were shadowed. Other's
had chosen to remain in full view, glaring down at the rooms occupants as the
conversation shifted around them.
       Some of them shared his frustrations with the Ministry's representatives
as evidenced by the scowls on their faces while others sat with studiedly
neutral visages. Old Studenhauge looked as pleasant and as harmless as always,
smiling benignly at the Aurors but Dumbledore knew that was a ruse. Studenhauge
had one of the keenest minds, and sharpest tongues of all the paintings in the
office, and always offered some of the best insights. Her analysis of this
meeting would be interesting... if he could persuade her to speak. She was
firmly of the belief that the living had to deal with their own problems.
       Albus blinked once, carefully as his eyes roamed over the crest of
Hogwarts that was above the door. He could have sworn that the animal totems
blinked at him and as he kept his attention on the Crest, without looking at it
he nodded to himself, understanding. It appeared Harry's power was watching,
even if the boy could not.
       A particularly loud shout reminded him to pay attention to the Aurors
but Dumbledore didn't really know what to do, not completely anyway.
       What did they want him to say? Did they want him to say 'No, don't
worry, it's just an illusion that you got defeated by a fifteen year old boy'?
       It wasn't and they had to accept that and the more important point that
if Harry could defeat them, then Voldemort could defeat them. They should use
their experience with Harry as a learning opportunity to see the flaws in their
techniques and to improve. They wouldn't though, not until he pointed out that
it was essential and that nothing would change until they did.
       Or perhaps they would accept it if he pointed out that Harry belonged to
the Order of the Phoenix? He didn't want to do that though, didn't want to be
so blatant in stating that Harry was the only weapon capable of fighting and
winning against what Tom Riddle had become, and that frankly, they should be on
their knees thanking the powers that be that they had been defeated today,
because that meant that Harry was on the way to fully harnessing his power. And
once Harry fully controlled all his power, then they, the Light could really
begin to fight back. Everything now was just a pre-cursor, just waiting for the
time when they could really fight.
       And if Harry's demonstration today had been any indication... that time
was closer than he had thought.
       Albus smiled at the idea and was mildly surprised when the Aurors fell
silent, most just gaping at the expression on his face. "It pleases me that you
are so concerned," he said conversationally. "But I am forced to question
exactly what it was you were expecting?" Perhaps he could make them reach the
answers themselves. Fawkes trilled softly to confirm the question.
       Before any of the Aurors could answer the gargoyle moved and Sirius
entered his already crowded office. The animagus cast a dark look towards the
black robed Ministry servants before he turned towards Dumbledore. "He's
asleep," Sirius said quietly, moving across the office and taking a seat next
to Remus. "He won but it took everything he's got," he added, mostly for the
benefit of the Aurors.
       Dumbledore nodded. Harry would be as good as new in the morning and
prepared to face his next OWL, Care of Magical Creatures, and he was fully
expecting another Outstanding result. Marchbanks had already grumbled to him
that it was not usual testing procedure to get a dragon... Hagrid would be rapt
if the examiners did bring in a dragon but Albus was expecting something
equally dangerous but smaller.
       Although the concept... that could be examined later.
       The Aurors were now questioning Sirius - Did he know of his Godson's
ability? Had he taught him? What did he think of it? Was that really Harry?
Would he follow orders? - and Albus braced himself for a brutally honest answer
at the gleam deep in those pitch eyes. The animagus had never tolerated
stupidity well.
       "Yes," Sirius roared finally, getting their complete attention.
       Silence fell throughout Dumbledore's office and Sirius continued softly
making sure all the Aurors had to strain to hear him. "Yes, I knew. No, I did
not teach him. I'm not surprised Harry has such power. The Dark Lord had to
fear him for some reason after all."
       Dumbledore was careful to retain his grandfatherly expression at that
wondering if Sirius had truly thought of everything here and if it was wise to
reveal such information. The animagus continued though, unabashed.
       "Yes, that is really my Godson. Fawkes can prove that because he is a
full member of the Order of the Phoenix and the question isn't if he can follow
orders, rather, it's can you follow his?"
       The last brought an outcry from most of the Ministry's Representatives.
The few that remained quiet had speculative looks. They had taken Sirius'
comments seriously and were considering what that meant for the war.
       "When will he be able to fight?" One of them asked, finally, their voice
and question was pitched softly and was almost lost in the rest of the random
comments.
       "Now," Sirius replied, ignoring the way Remus squeezed his hand
worriedly. "But I will not allow you anywhere near him or him anywhere near a
battle field until he comes of age. A date which I'm sure you are all aware is
rapidly approaching. I owe that much to Lily and James. After that, we will
see. Despite the display today he has yet to finish his schooling and I refuse
to let him be used as a weapon now with no thought to his future and the skills
he will need then."
       The Aurors who had almost, despite their beating today and the outright
hypocrisy of the thought, to a man fallen in love with the idea of Harry
fighting seemed taken aback by Sirius' absolute tone.
       "You can't do that!" One of the younger ones objected.
       Sirius turned flat black eyes towards them. "Want to bet?" he asked, the
question a joke but his voice anything but. "I am Harry's legal guarding
because that was the wish of his parents, and until he comes of age, that means
you speak to me before you speak to him. And once he does come of age you may
speak with him but there is a Ministry Law, one which I'm sure you are all
familiar with that prevents Ministry employees from speaking with those still
in school in an official capacity without at least notifying their guardians.
I'll be expecting your owl, gentlemen.
       "And finally there is a dual Ministry stipulation that firstly ensures
that all wizarding children must complete their schooling except when they so
choose to leave but it further stipulates that even in desperate times the
Ministry may not pull school age wizards away from their studies without first
providing for their future in a world where they will be disadvantaged for not
completing their basic education. So, should you make any effort to coerce
Harry into heaving his schooling of his own will Iwill be asking for the proof
of this second clause." Black eyes surveyed the room, daring anyone to dissent.
       Most of the Aurors shifted uncomfortably sensing the anger Sirius
contained. He had for the most part fully divested them of their righteous
anger at being defeated by a student and for a moment it seemed as if the
meeting would degenerated into silence, neither party willing to speak for the
risk that their words would be taken as a threat.
       Finally Dumbledore spoke. "I'm sure the Order and the Ministry can work
together for the best possible outcome," he said soothingly, "for both Harry
and for the ultimate defeat of the Dark Lord. I however, agree with Sirius that
Harry is not to be approached until after he comes of age. After that we can
speak to him about the various options that are open to him and we will use
that time to develop these options. Right now, Harry is a child, we cannot
forget that. His power, while impressive is also unstable and he is one who's
power is unlikely to stabilise fully with a mere date."
       "You mean he's going to be even more powerful?"
       "Like you wouldn't believe," Sirius muttered under his breath while
Dumbledore took a more conciliatory note.
       "Yes, we believe young Mr Potter's abilities will only fully stabilise
when his body reaches full maturity."
       "But that could be years away!" One of the Aurors complained. "How are
we meant to fight before then?"
       At last they came to the real question and while the Auror who had asked
had done so in a complaining tone he understood the problems they were facing.
       Sirius shrugged and with remarkable good humour, spoke. "Harry can help
you but for the moment there will be limitations on the help he gives."
       "Such as?"
       "If there is to be a Hogwarts Guard, Harry is to be assigned to that but
will be excused from most duties to attend class. He will, of course, as a
Member of the Order fight if the castle is attacked but he will not be
available for every battle. If there is an absolute emergency elsewhere you may
call upon him but the final decision on that will be left to Albus Dumbledore.
I want to protect him from being used continuously as a weapon. There is more
to life than that, and Harry like all others must be allowed to experience
that."
       "Why are we so concerned with one adolescent wizard?" One of the Aurors
grumbled. "He's strong, sure but he's not that important."
       Albus turned towards the Auror, a soft deceptive smile on his lips. "Who
else is going to fight Voldemort?" he asked mildly, using the name
deliberately.
       The Head Auror, who had been silent until now, nodded carefully. "It's
true then," he murmured, looking over at the Head Master.
       "Yes, it's true," Dumbledore replied.
       "I thought as much, I just did not expect it to be so plainly laid out.
We will abide by Mr Black's restrictions with one alteration. Where we are
planning a major battle, we reserve the right to plan Mr Potter into that
battle in advance, that way any interruption in his classes can be ameliorated
as much as possible. Although," the Auror sniggered slightly, "from the looks
of things he could probably be teaching some of the classes."
       "Probably," Dumbledore agreed amicably, before he became serious again.
"The Order will provide training for Harry over summer and work on stabilising
his power and finding out the limits of his abilities so that no one is
expecting too much and no one is left gapping when he does strike."
       "I will be expecting a full report then, and him ready for combat when
the next semester starts. All information will of course be kept confidential
to myself, the Minister of Magic, those members of the Order you tell, and to
the Auror Battle Captains Harry is assigned to, and even then information will
be on need to know basis, although I imagine Harry will be assigned in a sub-
group under the command group."
       Sirius nodded. "That should be acceptable. We will keep you informed of
his progress," he added with a clear note of dismissal as he rose and turned
back towards the door. For now, he had more important considerations.
===
       Snape shivered as he knelt. There was a sickly feeling in the back of
his throat as he resisted the urge to look around surreptitiously. You could do
nothing covertly beneath the gaze of the one watching him. That was one of the
first things he had learnt but that wasn't a concern, yet. He wasn't sure why
he was here, and that was the problem leading to his mounting unease.
       Usually when the Dark Lord summoned him, he was given some indication
about the information Lord Voldemort was interested in. This time the Serpent
Lord had simply made one excruciatingly painful call through the dark mark
instructing him to attend him as soon as possible. And so the Potions Master
had made his apologies to Dumbledore, whose narrowed eyes showed that he also
was startled, left Hogwarts and apparated immediately.
       Severus had glanced to black robed red masked attendants flanking the
Serpent Lord before he'd knelt. Elites. Not necessarily more powerful than any
other Death Eater but fanatically loyal and completely unknown. They were a
part of the reason the Order was having so much trouble dispelling the fear of
Voldemort. You could work next to them, drink butterbeer with them, engage in
gossip, pass them on the street and there was nothing to identify them, until
of course they stood against you on the battlefield, more than ready to take
your life in the name of their Lord or approached you with a smile, and a
dagger behind their back.
       They were completely unknown and exceedingly dangerous, with their
identities only known by Voldemort. Their only drawback for the Dark Lord was
that they were not good for recruiting. They were too well hidden. But right
now that wasn't Snape's concern.
       If the Dark Lord had human guards he wasn't as relaxed as they had
thought he was... Or he was expecting trouble from him... Severus gulped at the
thought as a new wave of cold passed through him. He really didn't like not
knowing what Voldemort wanted.
       "Severus," the Serpent Lord spoke and Snape could almost hear the smile
in his voice. It was not comforting. "It has been too long."
       "Yes, my Lord," he said, thankful that his voice didn't quiver. There
was always a certain amount of fear when he was summoned to see the Dark Lord,
but the only time he could remember being this afraid was the first time after
he'd agreed to spy for the Order.
       The fear wasn't just originating in the fact that he didn't know what
Voldemort wanted now, it was coming from the whole situation. The Order had
stuck at one of the Dark Lord's bases with the vampire's aide, confirming that
those dark creatures were committed to their course of opposing him which would
no doubt pull the Dark Lord in a foul mood. In addition there had also not been
anywhere near enough bodies from the aftermath of Lucius' failed rebellion so
Snape fully expected the Dark Lord do be looking for an excuse to lash out at
anything and that included anyone he suspected of being not entirely loyal, and
Severus was well aware what the Dark Lord suspected him of. He was under no
illusion that it was his use as a spy in Dumbledore's own house that had kept
him alive until now but in a fit of pique, the Serpent Lord could easily forget
that, especially if Voldemort thought Harry was a viable alternative...
       And that was the other reason Snape was scared. If what he suspected was
true... He had to confirm that, not for Dumbledore, for himself but he couldn't
think of any way of raising such an issue short of the Dark Lord revealing the
information himself.
       "I have been hearing some unpleasant rumours, Severus, about my spy
within Dumbledore's precious Order, but I am sure that they are just that,
rumours. Hmm?"
       Snape had learnt early when dealing with Voldemort that there were some
things on which you could admit to minor, very minor errors, in fact it was
almost a game but on the question of loyalty... well, that came down to the
fact that if the Dark Lord had a question then you weren't loyal. You could
admit to nothing there. And with the events just past, he had meant what he
said to the dog and reporter in Dumbledore's Office. Right now there was only
one faction following the Dark Lord and he had to appear as a part of that
unified faction.
       "Rumours about what, my Lord?" Snape asked, trying to project a tone of
mild, unworried inquiry.
       Voldemort smiled. As always Severus was calm and collected, even when
obliquely threatened. There was a reason he had let the Potion Master survive
for so long, even with the questions of loyalty hanging over his greasy head.
The man was trapped between the improbable - the light prevailing - and the
impossible - escaping from his services - but it was always a delight to see
him walk that fine line.
       "There have been questions wondering how Ferous base could have fallen
so quickly and so easily when so very few of my servants knew its location."
       Severus suppressed the urge to gulp. He should have known he'd be
suspected for that, even though he was innocent. Still, he had been careful to
find out exactly how Dumbledore had known about that base. Hopefully Voldemort
wouldn't find his explanation too convenient, even if it was the complete
truth. If he hadn't of known that the vampire cared nothing for what they
deemed to be petty human squabbles Severus would have thought that perhaps the
ancient being was deliberately trying to put him in a difficult situation.
       "The fall of Ferous Base was a gift my Lord, from the vampire elder
Xeoaph to Dumbledore, to show that they, the vampires were committed to the
rather incomprehensible goal of seeing your demise. I have not yet been able to
ascertain how the vampire discovered the base's location though, my Lord but I
believe, regrettably it was through chance."
       "A gift?"
       Snape didn't need to look to know that blood red eyes were hooded
dangerously. "Xeoaph's words, my Lord, not my own," he murmured.
       "It makes a rather interesting gift and puts me in a somewhat difficult
position for I have any number of loyal followers who know that you were the
only one who knew about the base and are connected to the Order. They trust
that I will take appropriate action and trust is a very difficult thing."
       This time Snape did gulp and even though he knew he could hide nothing
he began gathering himself. He couldn't win a fight against the Dark Lord and
two Death Eaters, but if it came to it, he refused to go without at least
trying. And if he could run... he would run.
       Something slammed down upon him, like a physical presence but magical,
driving him down to the stone before the Dark Lord and Severus hissed as the
air was driven from his lungs.
       "I thought you knew better than that, Severus," came the cold jeer as
the Potion Master struggled furtively against the restraint. "I'm not going to
kill you and while I do believe you are innocent of allowing Ferous Base to
fall, you are going to have to be punished for even thinking you could escape
me. Latter though, for now I wish to know how Dumbledore's only hope is
progressing."
       "Potter?"
       "Yes, young Harry Potter," there was a completely different note in the
Serpent Lord's voice as he murmured the name, a note that was entirely too
pleased, too sated, and all together far too smug for Snape's liking. It seemed
to confirm everything he suspected but at the same time gave nothing away.
Voldemort could still be gloating over his 'conquest', something Potter hadn't
really spoken about.
       Or could that..?
       He shivered as a new possibility opened itself to him, thankful that his
reaction would simply be taken as the anticipation of punishment, not for what
it truly meant. Could it be that Potter had been so... dominated by the Dark
Lord that he had agreed to follow the older man? It wouldn't be the first time
that the Serpent Lord had used any means necessary to achieve his goals, it was
just not a means that one suspected the Dark Lord would employ when dealing
with an enemy. The boy was not submissive either... It would have been a
dangerous coupling.
       But it could potentially explain things. Given the difficulties Harry
had faced throughout his life, he may have been subconsciously looking for
someone to protect him... and Voldemort could have played on that fear,
offering the boy affection, attention and a form of protection that would
appeal to one who had suffered as Harry had. To be owned, to be touched only by
one person, to know that you never need risk being touched by another... That
could have been appealing to Harry, especially since he knew the Dark Lord both
could and would carry out the threat to kill to protect that which he thought
was his. And in return all Harry had to do was be loyal, to turn towards him at
the most precipitous moment, to throw the Order into disarray and allow him to
win. Then, he would take care of everything.
       It was a dark kind of love but it would be comforting, consistent and
reinforced by every show of strength Voldemort gave to Harry. It could be the
reason he had turned. Absolute protection from one you knew could give it was a
very powerful lure, combine that with pleasure and acceptance and you had a
arrangement that would appeal to an impressionable youth, especially if the
Dark Lord had played on fears of years of war, emotional pain and being seen as
an object, or if Voldemort had been his most charming, suave and charismatic.
       Severus gulped; even he would have been pushed to resist that. Not for
the man himself, but for the knowledge that he would always be safe, that for
him, peace existed because the Dark Lord ruled all. And maybe, cradled by a
strong and comforting embrace, body replete with heavy lethargy, mind numbed by
pleasure, the Boy-Who-Lived had given in to it all.
       "He is progressing, my Lord," Snape said carefully as the magical
pressure abated somewhat, uncertain of what answer the Serpent Lord wanted. "I
am unsure of all the details but Dumbledore believes he will be ready to fight
by the end of summer."
       Voldemort seemed pleased. "So soon?"
       "It would be sooner, my Lord but he is having trouble working with the
vampires, and of course, Dumbledore wants Harry to be completely ready should
he encounter yourself in combat."
       The Dark Lord waved the last away, focusing instead on Severus' first
words. "Problems with the Order's new alliance already?"
       Severus shook his head. "No," he clarified quietly. "It's more problems
with Harry and his interactions with the vampires. The Order and Dumbledore is
happy with the alliance, but as my Lord knows, the boy's power is light. I'm
told he killed a vampire during his DADA practical. How though still hasn't
been released to the Order."
       "He is controlling his powers now?"
       "Yes."
       Voldemort almost seemed to sigh. "I might almost have forgiven the boy
if he'd destroyed the vampires," he murmured calmly, knowing Severus would see
that as a reflection of his own desire, rather than any real expectation he had
of Harry Potter. "How did he fair in his OWLs?"
       Snape blinked slowly steadying himself. Despite the fact that this was
not going to go over well... had he just seen... a shadow? They were showing
their support that openly? Did they really support the Dark Lord? Or was that
just a ruse? Later, he cautioned himself, wincing imperceptibly when his mind
supplied the addition, if we have a later.
       "While his results are not public, not even to the Order, the examiners
were all talking about how well he did. I'm given to understand that he
shattered all previous records - how will require more time to determine."
       There was a chuckle, more a hiss of pleasure from the Dark Lord, and the
Potion Master hid a spike of surprise. Voldemort was pleased? In terms of
power, Harry had been able to match the Dark Lord for short periods of time and
that had angered Voldemort in the past. Now he was informed that the boy would
potentially be matching him in terms of knowledge, at least in the daily usage
of magic and he was not raging? There was something else here. Harry had to be
serving him somehow...
       "Do not waste your time, I already know how. Tell me rather of the
training they have planned."
       "Dumbledore plans on focusing on combative magic rather than theory
although there will be some. The Order will focus on pushing Potter to reach
his animagus form to allow for as many advanced concepts as possible to be
introduced to him."
       There was a serpentine hiss sounding vaguely angered. "What is his
form?" Came the demand.
       "I do not know my Lord," Severus said immediately. "They have not yet
requested the seeing potion from me."
       "Typical!" Voldemort snorted disdainfully. "What part will you play in
Potter's training?"
       "They have not yet requested my aide."
       "Ah."
       Snape shivered. The note in that single syllable was not good. It seemed
to indicate that his answer was a conclusion all of itself and the conclusion
was not one favourable to him. They suspect you, they know you, they do not
trust you. All those words were there. He had to regain something. "Dumbledore
has not asked me to leave for the summer but they are neglecting the boy's
Potion training and so I have not been called upon, however I am certain I will
be necessary for drills in duelling and weaponry."
       "You had better hope so," Voldemort hissed, ruby eyes flashing
dangerously. He already knew Severus was not telling him everything but if he
was not in a position where he could tell him anything then he had no further
use for the traitorous Potion Master. It would be a waste of fine skills but he
could not afford a traitor within his ranks. Not anymore. It was a game and he
was good at playing but the time when he could humour Dumbledore and place the
expected expectations on Severus was fast drawing to a close especially now
that he had an even more perfect spy within the ranks of the Order, curtesy of
his mate.
       The Potion Master would have to choose soon who he truly belonged to and
while he would regret the loss of skill should Severus side with the fool
Dumbledore that would not be enough to halt the strike. The man had made two
mutually exclusive magically binding contracts and one way or another he would
have to break one.
       "You will continue to report to me during summer. I will summon you and
you will have information about young Potter's progress. You will not
interfere, and you will aide in his training to the best of your ability. Do
you understand Severus?"
       Snape nodded wondering vaguely and not liking the conclusions he was
drawing about why the Dark Lord would encourage his enemies training.
       There was a serpentine hiss before Voldemort continued, his robes
whispering softly as he shifted positions. "I will enjoy crushing their hope,"
the older wizard murmured.
       Severus nodded, as if agreeing with his Lord. The Dark Lord was still
banking on the fact that he was stronger, that Harry's magic had not yet
stabilised... Ah... he had to mention this. "My Lord?"
       "Yes?"
       "Potter's Coming of Age Ceremony is approaching but it will not be held
at Hogwarts."
       That seemed to catch Voldemort's interest. "They will hold it at the
Potter Estates?"
       "No. I do not know where my Lord but Dumbledore indicated that while the
shields of Hogwarts are impressive, and the Potter Estates shields are keyed to
him, that neither would be sufficient and so he had called in a personal favour
for the provision of stronger shields."
       His words caused a slight stir from the guarding Elites but they were
composed enough that their start could be mistaken for restless shifting. The
Dark Lord though... Severus was hard pressed to conceal his surprise as
Voldemort simply nodded, relaxed and calm at the information. The Dark Lord's
reactions just weren't adding up.
       :To you,: came a whisper and Severus lowered his head, clenching his
teeth as he focused on anything but that voice. Why here? Why now?
       "With Gryffindor's Power it will be necessary," Voldemort muttered
before fixing ruby eyes back on the still kneeling Potion Master who was
staring intently at the flagstones as if his life depended on it. "Look at me,"
he commanded quietly.
       Snape was thankful for the distraction and raised his eyes, cautiously,
to look at his supposed Master with what he hoped was a sufficiently attentive
gaze. Adoring, obedient, approving but not mindless, his psyche automatically
provided the chant he had long ago perfected for the times when he was allowed
to look upon the once handsome man.
       "You are one of my most skilled servants, Severus, from one of the
oldest wizarding lines," Voldemort began softly and Snape mentally shuddered,
knowing where the speech would end, later had caught up to him. "You very
quickly grasped the truth during your formative years and so came to serve me
at a young age and thus I have been graced with the services of one of the
finest Potion Makers in generations and so it pains me when there are questions
hanging over their head.
       "You have been my finest spy, Severus. No one else has ever gotten that
close to Dumbledore and you know the information you provide me is priceless,
and I have rewarded you thus. I have no wish to lose your services either as a
Potion Maker or Spy but there is a limit to how much I can overlook."
       Ruby eyes blazed fiercely and for a moment it didn't matter that the
Dark Lord before him was no longer human, Snape could sense the power he had
been attracted to and under that gaze was tempted to cast himself to the Dark
Lord's mercy because only that power could protect him, and only that power
could give him his desire. It was a dark attraction. The almost constant pain
from his Dark Mark vanished and he could feel waves of pleasure emanating from
it, washing through his body, leaving him feeling heavy and replete. This was
the power he had sworn his oath to, that he had agreed to obey for eternity...
       This was the power I fought so hard to escape! Severus growled to
himself, fighting as his body wanted nothing more than to prostrate itself
completely before the Dark Lord, begging forgiveness for even thinking that the
Light could be correct path. Deliberately he remembered the absolute pain of
his induction into the Order, pain that had washed away, somewhat the darkness
that had tainted his soul, pain that rivalled the cruciatus curse, pain that he
had embraced whole heartedly because it was the only way to salvation.
       "Ah... you always were strong," Voldemort broke the feeling with a
hissed laugh and the Potion Master almost collapsed, shivering as he realised
how close he had come under that dark power to throwing it all away. "My mercy
though is not infinite and my tolerance not unbounded. I know of the phoenix
that is even now quivering on your back and I know what you are hoping for. It
will not happen.
       "The time is coming Severus when you are going to have to choose, once
and for all who you will support. Dumbledore and I have always played to win
and the time when we can humour indecisiveness is fast coming to an end. You
are running out of time Severus and I am running out of patience."
       Blood red eyes glowed and Snape could have sworn he could see the
serpent moving behind them. He tried to keep his expression as neutral as
possible because he sensed that unless he was going to grovel immediately to
reaffirm his oath, the Dark Lord would not take any communication kindly.
       As the Serpent Lord raised his hand, and an iniquitous light appearing
in his eyes, it almost didn't feel like it was happening to him. Severus just
watched calmly, knowing what was to come and made no attempt to brace or
otherwise protect himself. It would have been futile anyway.
       "Crucio!"It wasn't until the pain actually started that Snape felt like
it was happening to him. He gritted his teeth against it as much as he could
but as every nerve ending, and every muscle shot waves of agony though him he
couldn't hold back any longer and screamed, writhing on the stone in a vain
attempt to reduce the pain.
       Red orbs, made all the more fierce by the stark whiteness of serpentine
features and skin, watched impassively and it was only when specks of red began
flying from Snape's mouth and his screams became liquid, indicating that his
thrashing was causing internal damage, did the Dark Lord release the curse.
       Severus gasped for air, drawing himself back into a position of
reverence in an as dignified manner as he could manage when every bone and
muscle ached. Voldemort had gotten stronger, the pain told him as much and
while it was an interesting piece of information it did nothing for him here.
       He didn't notice the lumpy hessian bag that appeared beside him until
the Dark Lord spoke.
       "Take that with you, Severus. Give it to Dumbledore." Voldemort rose and
as he walked towards a shadowed side entry, flanked by the two Elites, Snape
shuddered as the Serpent Lord allowed his aura to pervade everything again.
Just before he disappeared he spoke once more, murmuring words so softly that
the Potion Master could barely hear them over the labouring of his breath but
he felt them. "Dumbledore or me... do not disappoint me, Severus."
       As soon as the Dark Lord disappeared Snape collapsed, clawing at his arm
and the burning mark that was still resonating with the cruciatus curse. It
wasn't the first time this had happened, but it was the first time the pain had
lingered in tangible form for so long. No doubt Voldemort was trying to teach
him a lesson. After a few moments though the Potion Master tried to compose
himself and with shaking, staggering movements he forced himself to his feet.
He didn't want to remain in this castle any longer than he had to.
       He snatched up the bag, knowing by its weight and shape what it
contained but not caring to check any further as he stumbled, trying to balance
correctly. :You know the trouble with Dark Lords is that they never tell you
all your options,: the familiar voice whispered to him so gently he almost
didn't hear it. :You can always choose to follow us. We protect our own, you
know that. You'd never need fear the Dark Lord, or the Ministry, or the Order,:
they continued to murmur, invoking the sick feeling in the back of his throat
to emphasise their point as his stomach felt queasy. :You'd be free, Severus,
free to follow your own pursuits and all that we'd request is every once in a
while you make us a few potions. We'd even provide the materials... for them
and for others...:
       He tried to squeeze his eyes closed, tried to ignore the voice as he
visualised his destination but the voice would not go away, and with everything
that had happened he couldn't force himself to concentrate on the picture.
       :Imagine what you could do! The potions you could develop, the
recognition you'd receive... And you'd have all that with peace because we can
give the wizarding world that, Severus... we will give the wizarding world
that.
      :Think about it, Severus, think about it long and hard because Voldemort
was correct on one count - you are running out of time.: With the final warning
the voice faded and Snape could sense that the infinitely powerful presence
that was the shadows was gone.
       But it would be back.
       It always came back.
       Just like the Dark Lord.
       Severus apparated, no longer caring at he couldn't get a fix on his
location, no longer caring about anything but the need to get away.
       :You will be ours, Severus,: the shadows whispered at the now departed
Potion Master. :Because no one else can give you your desire,: they added
laughing before the room fell silent, and everything was still.
===
       "I am here," Sirius said softly as his contact entered the small
clearing. He moved forward slightly to detach himself partially from the
darkness. The meeting was deep in the Forbidden Forest. He was familiar with
the outskirts of the Forest but the Shadows had lead him deeper into it that he
had even been. On the outskirts of the forest, the trees were well spaced, dry
and there was only sparse and well defined undergrowth. In this section the
trees seemed smaller, denser, their limbs tangled with each other forming a
confusing and almost impenetrable mass. Smaller brush formed the undergrowth
and Sirius could barely see ten foot passed the tree line in any direction. The
whole place was slick with water and he could smell the sharp odour of rotting
plants from where footsteps had disturbed the mass underfoot. He could hear the
drip of water patting softly to the ground.
       He could see the stars here but it was dark, there was no moon but upon
seeing who he was to meet, he now knew why the Shadows had chosen a moonless
night.
       The Shadows had asked for some of his time, saying that they needed to
talk with someone and that they thought it would be best if this time they had
a physical presence; and so now he was standing, cloaked in shadows, trying to
control his surprise as Remus flicked back his hood to look directly at him.
       :Just follow our prompts,: the shadows murmured.
       "I wanted some clarification," Remus said without preamble. There was no
need for introductions, not at this stage.
       "I know."
       "What is your offer, in your own words?"
       :Offer?: Sirius asked silently. :I knew you were up to something but
this... you're trying to subvert the werewolves?:
       :We prefer the term recruit.:
       :Does Harry know?:
       :Of course.:
       :What's the offer?:
       :Just let us talk.:
       Inwardly Sirius nodded. It would be quicker and easier if they did that,
rather than him continuously relaying their words. There was an odd shift in
perception and he heard himself speak. "My Master wants what has been relayed
to you."
       "Just so that I'm clear then, please, tell me, as I have never directly
heard your offer."
       "Ah..." the Shadows seemed amused but Sirius shared Remus' curiosity. He
wanted to know what the shadows were offering. He though, could always ask them
why later. "We want the werewolves' support. We would prefer if it was your
passive support but we expect, unfortunately that your support will require
fighting in at least one battle. We will specify that battle, and will accept
that some will not wish to fight but want at least fifty percent participation.
The old, the young and those females carrying young are excused. Apart from
that battle, we want the public acknowledgement of werewolf support. We don't
expect you to say who you support but we will expect it explicitly stated that
the werewolves support neither the Dark Lord Voldemort nor the Ministry Order
of the Phoenix Alliance."
       "That is a lot to ask," Lupin objected.
       "We know."
       "We?"
       "We speak for our Master."
       The werewolf frowned. "I was lead to believe I would be speaking with
your Master."
       The Shadows hissed at the implied insult but quickly countered,
prompting Sirius to speak himself. "I rank equally with you within our
respective communities," Sirius said before he asked an internal question. :
I do?:
       :You do. We'll explain the werewolves later although you could probably
convince Remus with some pillow talk,: the Shadows teased as they took control
again.
       Remus took the hint. "I apologise," he said easily but sincerely. "The
werewolves are not used to being dealt with honourably."
       "We apologise for any misconceptions."
       "You are still asking for a lot."
       "We know but we are offering what we believe to be an equal amount in
return and are open to discussions on many things to compensate."
       "I know. You are offering sacrifices to swell our numbers, which will
appeal to those pack members who wish to follow the Dark Lord. You are also
offering Law Reform for those who wish to stay within the system and from what
I have seen your replacement laws do seem equitable..."
       :That's a lot to offer,: Sirius murmured.
       :It had to be impressive to get their attention.:
       :So you're not going to deliver it?: he asked with a disapproving mental
frown.
       :Of course we are,: the Shadows seemed offended but the animagus knew
that it took a lot more than that to truly offend them.
       "...And finally," Remus said, "you are guaranteeing this with a blood
oath."
       :Blood oath!: Sirius shrieked mentally.
       :It's no big deal,: the Shadows shrugged before speaking again. "Did you
want something else?" They asked with good humour.
       Remus blinked. What else was there to offer? He shook his head, there
was no need to be greedy and the possibility could be examined later.
       "I realise that you shouldn't doubt an offer," he said honestly, "but
the werewolves have been betrayed so often and now you want something very
large from us so we need the reassurance that you can actually fulfil your
promises because if you can't we will have made enemies of both the Dark Lord
and Ministry and this is not something I will allow my people to risk lightly."
       "The werewolves are lucky to have you as a leader," Sirius heard his
voice say as his mental eyes widened. Remus was a leader? He knew Moony
communicated with other werewolves but he'd never really given it much thought.
What was a leader of the werewolves anyway? They had a structure that required
leadership?
       :We'll explain later.:
       "We want the werewolves to hold neutral," the Shadows continued speaking
to Remus. "Until the battle where your support is required, we will accept if
the werewolves just wish to state their neutrality. When the dust settles on
this war our Master will stand as the victor and we are giving the werewolves
an opportunity to be associated with us from the beginning."
       "Yes, that is your intention and if it comes true you will be able to
deliver on your promises to my kind and we are thankful for the opportunity to
join with you but that doesn't explain how you will accomplish your goals."
       The Shadows, if they had of been able to would have smiled. "We are the
power that stands behind the Dark Lord, that rescued him from Malfoy's
Rebellion." The Shadows stepped Sirius' body forward and he could see the
werewolf's eyes widen in recognition. Despite his best efforts there had been
pictures taken of him in the Atrium.
       "That explains why I can't smell you," Lupin muttered.
       :We have completely hidden you,: the Shadow's reassured Sirius before
the werewolf continued.
       "So why don't you support him?"
       "We will but we support our Master above all else and in time the Dark
Lord will either accede to us or be destroyed."
       :Harry wouldn't allow that,: Sirius objected.
       :You know that, we know that but Remus doesn't.:
       "If the Ministry and the Dark Lord toe the line so to speak, they can
both survive but given the adaptability of them both we rather imagine only
Voldemort will survive us."
       "So why shouldn't the werewolves support him?"
       "Because he will not truly acknowledge your rights when it does not suit
him, we will guarantee your rights with the Oath. We have the power to give you
what we have offered and..." Sirius wasn't the only one to sense their
hesitation.
       "And?" Lupin prompted.
       "And there is one more thing we can offer you. We don't really want to
though as it has implications you may not be ready to accept."
       "What?"
       "There is a charm. Pretty much anyone can perform it but the more
powerful, the better since it is tied into the very roots of magic. It is a
strengthening charm and we estimate that it will work on about five percent of
werewolves."
       "What does it do?"
       "It increases mental resistance to magically imposed changes."
       Lupin gasped, brown eyes wide, "You can't possibly mean..."
       "It does," Sirius felt his body nod. "But not in the way you expect. It
is like the Wolf's Bane Potion but translates further with its own risks. Those
who have enough mental strength for whatever reason will maintain their human
mind even with the change of shape and for those capable of that the change is
relatively painless. The only problem is, it doesn't always work."
       "What do you mean?"
       "Wolf's Bane Potion is more reliable because it always works even if it
tastes disgusting but this is completely dependent on your state of mind. If
you are distracted, if you are worried or concerned, if you are fatigued, or in
any way not focused you will revert to a normal transformation. You have to
want, with every fibre of your being to maintain control and that's why it's so
unreliable... Because there are so many variables, it can work for one
transformation but not others... Hence our offer of Wolf's Bane Potion
instead."
       Remus nodded, understanding the reluctance now. Truth be told he had
heard of a charm like the one they described... But all the literature he had
ever seen dismissed it as a wishful fantasy, something that didn't work... With
the restrictions they had just described though, it made sense why it was not
used, and not known. Even so, he was still not convinced that they could
deliver everything but they were viable to delay the Ministry and Dark Lord...
which would serve their purpose anyway... They had certainly planned this well.
       "You are offering Wolf's Bane but that is a very difficult potion to
brew. Do you have a Potion Master capable of it?" He asked carefully.
       "We do."
       :You do?: Sirius asked, surprised. :Who?: He was almost certain he was
the only one apart from Harry tied to the shadows.
       :You are the only one tied in such a unique way,: they responded, :but
we have others who have been seduced and are bound to our will.:
       :Who's the Potion Master?: He pressed the question.
       :Severus Snape,: they grumbled the answer. :We just have to finish
seducing him but that will be complete by the time the werewolves agree.:
       Sirius mentally narrowed black eyes. They were playing a very fine game
but as he reached out he could sense the centuries behind them and knew they
had been playing for a very long time. They knew what they were capable of and
they knew how much time they would need to achieve their goals. Severus might
not be theirs yet but, stubborn as he was, he would be by the time they needed
him, if not by his own choice, then at least by circumstance and they were
masters of controlling circumstance. He shrugged, he didn't like the man but he
did recognise his skill as a potion maker, and it wasn't like he would have to
deal with Snape that often. If he was necessary, he was necessary. Besides even
if Severus had been seduced by the Shadows, that didn't mean anything had to
change between them.
       While he had been questioning the shadows, they had continued to speak
to Remus and belatedly the canine animagus remembered to pay attention to what
his body was saying. "And we will allow you to examine their credentials when
an agreement is reached. If you are not satisfied with their level of skill, we
will stand open to renegotiate our agreement, or we will accept and recruit
which ever Potion Master the werewolves desire, or you may declare the entire
agreement null and void and strike through the blood oath."
       Lupin narrowed his eyes. "You are very accommodating," he stated
blandly, fishing for a response.
       "We are asking a lot from the werewolves, it is in our interest to be
accommodating, and to allow for bargaining on many points," the Shadows
rephrased their previous answer.
       There was something else going on here and Remus didn't know what. They
were powerful, he had no doubt of that. He'd seen images of this individual
before and knew by reputation what they were capable of. The fact that he had
been destroying vampires would bode well for them as well. On a more personal
level he couldn't hear, smell or otherwise sense them. It was truly as if he
was speaking with a shadow. Remus realised with a start suddenly wanting to run
back to Sirius where it was warm and he felt safe. This whole conversation was
not safe and there were too many things happening that he didn't understand. He
didn't like that.
       But he had a duty to fulfil and he would do it no matter how
uncomfortable he was. The forest suddenly seemed colder.
       "Are you reassured?" Sirius heard himself ask.
       Lupin nodded. "I understand more now," the werewolves said calmly
although Sirius recognised the pinched lines around his eyes as being signs of
anything but relaxation. He was tense. "I will relay your offer to the pack as
being a viable if difficult option but it is an option which may suit us."
       "We thank you," Sirius said at the shadows direction. "Do you have any
further questions?"
       Remus smiled. "Do you and your Master have any plans for the vampires?"
       "Plans?" The Shadows repeated the question through Sirius' body and he
could feel their amusement. "Nothing quite that formal but there are certain
rules to be observed between creatures of the dark and they have broken those
rules and so must now suffer the consequences. If the Light wins, we suppose
that would be different but one way or another we are going to see our Master
victorious and so they will eventually learn, once and for all, that all
actions have consequences."
       The werewolf nodded, grinning. For the sake of his people there were
things he wanted to see happen and watching the vampires brought low was one of
them, no matter how it happened. It was one of those things that was universal
to all werewolves. "I will relay that as well, and while I might personally
prefer a different path, I feel that the Pack shall lean towards either the
Dark Lord or your Master. Whichever it is I thank you for your time and for
your honesty," Remus said formally.
       Sirius felt the Shadows bow low. "We understand that the Pack will
choose as it feels is best but we will like to remind you that the werewolves
need only show their loyalty in one battle of our choosing. For the rest of the
time the Pack may preach neutrality while allowing individuals to serve as they
will."
       Lupin smiled some what sadly. He already knew that last point. Chaos.
While the concept of being able to serve as the individual desired was
appealing, in the end, when they were compelled to show their loyalty it would
only lead to chaos. He wasn't sure what he wanted. He felt compelled to follow
the light, to continue campaigning for the lawful rights of werewolves because
it was only through law and the altering of wizarding thought and perception
could they truly be accepted as magical beings but he knew many of the Pack
were tired, and Voldemort was the strongest Dark Lord in centuries. If they
followed him, even if it, in the end turned out the same as all the times
before, at least that was a path they knew and it was possible the Dark Lord
would win this time. At least it was a path they could survive on for another
round but it was a path that was unnecessarily painful. But chaos was not
likely to be better, even if it was the best offer they had.
       :Say something!: The Shadows hissed at Sirius when he saw Remus'
reaction. The animagus blinked and almost stumbled as the Shadows relinquished
control of his body. Remus was pensive and that alone was not good.
       Sirius could tell that Moony's heart wanted one thing while his mind
argued for something else. They had to align his heart with his head then they
would have Lupin's support, and while the Shadows hadn't explained yet Sirius
knew Remus' support was necessary. "We are neither Light nor Dark, Mr Lupin,"
Sirius said and he knew his voice was pitched differently. Remus would know
someone different was speaking. "We are not good or bad but rather we are what
we need to be to fulfil our goals. We have entered the battle this time because
we are tired of the continuous struggle for dominance and so one way or another
we want to see it end, just like you do. And that is why we have made this
offer."
       Remus' eyes softened slightly but he was not yet convinced and Sirius
smirked as he realised what he needed to tell the werewolf.
       "I remember," he started again, his voice still soft in the dark of the
forest but he saw Lupin come to attention at the singular word use. "I remember
when I wasn't sure, when I thought that allying this way, with my Master, was
the betrayal of everything I had fought for, was the betrayal of everyone who
has died in this conflict but then I realised that living my entire life for
war, living just to continue the fight, or living just stuck in the same
continuous circuit of destruction and betrayal, that was the true betrayal of
everything and everyone. We fight to see the conflict end, not to see it
continue, and those who have died, died with the wish to protect, with the hope
that their sacrifice would see their loved ones survive, but further with the
hope that their loved ones would know peace. That is why, Mr Lupin, I can stand
before you, knowing that I came to the Dark Lord's aid when once I would have
died willingly to take him with me and why I know that if so instructed I will
come to his aid again because I can now see an end to it all. I can see that my
Master can do what the others cannot, that he can bring an end to the cycle of
conflict.
       "That is how I know that there is no betrayal, that the greater wrong
would be to continue as I once did, and how I know that at the end of it all, I
will be able to face those who sacrificed everything and be able to thank them,
for the gift they were trying to give as well as show them the peace that was
wrought through their sacrifice and they will know too that it was not all for
naught. It is this change, this ending that we wish to offer the werewolves,
although we understand that not all of them will accept it initially and so the
allowance to fight as individuals desires has been granted by our Master. In
time though, he believes all will see the truth."
       Lupin was silent for many long minutes and the sounds of the forest
intruded upon them. The soft drip of water, the rustle of leaves in the breeze,
a call of a bird and a dull hoof fall sounded from the distance. The rich loamy
smell pervaded everything and Remus breathed deeply before he looked up again.
The man's words had been those of the converted but they also were from the
heart, from one who knew the pain of battle. Whoever this Master was, they had
chosen well in sending this man to speak with him. "Are you happy?" he asked
finally.
       "Yes," Sirius answered simply, allowing his sincerity to echo through
the word. "But there is happiness I still seek because while my Master is an
end, he does not wish to be the end of all things. He has his mate, his
beloved, and I am seeking my own."
       Remus nodded. At least this Master did not wish to be regarded as a God.
       "One more thing," Sirius said as the Shadows prompted him to leave. "My
Master does not offer the same thing to everyone however I can guarantee you
there are rewards for those who follow but there is also freedom. I can promise
that you and the rest of the Pack would still be yourselves and that nothing
more than what you are prepared to give both as individuals and as a Pack shall
be asked for." With that Sirius bowed his head and allowed the Shadows to wrap
around him completely muffling his presence as he backed away, leaving Remus to
his thoughts.
       He couldn't help but notice however that a good deal of the tension had
faded from Lupin and in the back of his mind he could feel that the shadows
were pleased.
       They were sure now that the werewolves would choose to follow Harry. And
once that happened.... Well that was just the beginning.
 
 
***** Power Awakening *****
Chapter Notes
     $Blah$ Phoenix talk
     -blah- parseltongue
     :blah: shadow talk
Weapon
Chapter 11 Power Awakening
===
       Dumbledore sat looking out at the fields of Hogwarts. It was a beautiful
day and it seemed a waste to be inside but for the moment he had work to do.
Still a few minutes off, just enjoying the scenery wouldn’t hurt.
       The fields were green, running back in the beautiful rich colour
brilliantly bright all the way to the Forbidden Forest although even it seemed
brighter today, a rich dark velvet green as opposed to its usual black. The
shadow of mountains loomed in the distance, connected the ground a sky that was
shocking in its intensity. These were the days he lived for. Peaceful,
beautiful and calm.
       Fawkes trilled at him from the window sill. The phoenix had been flying,
enjoying the day and the wizard couldn’t help a small ping of jealousy. Albus
knew it was a fallacy but it would be nice to be able to fly away.
       $You never just fly if you are a phoenix,$ Fawkes said indignantly.
       $I know, I know,$ Dumbledore said easily, stroking the bird’s fire
plumage. $Is everything all right?$
       $Not yet. After his Coming of Age ceremony I will be able to determine
the situation more accurately.$
       $Problems?$ Dumbledore frowned. In his interactions with Harry the boy
had seemed fine.
       $He had a nightmare,$ Fawkes cooed sadly. $He was trapped and they were
all around him and he couldn’t get away.$
       $Ah,$ Dumbledore nodded. $What brought him out of it?$
       Fawkes frowned mentally. $The link with the Dark Lord,$ the phoenix said
finally.
       $You don’t think that..?$ The Headmaster trailed off, uncertain how to
phrase the question.
       Fawkes shook his head, his magnificent plumage throwing off sparks of
light. $No, I know. The Dark Lord was not conscious of his actions and Harry
has not and cannot be consciously controlled through the link but it does
concern me that it is, at least partially two way. I don’t like the thought
that Riddle could reach the Order through Harry, especially with his stunt
during the duel.$
       Albus stroked his beard as he thought. Harry’s mental capacity and
ability to use the Order’s telepathic mental link during the duel had been
impressive, even if somewhat surprising. Personally speaking, he had been
thankful that it was Harry who had pinpointed the weakness and exploited it in
mock combat rather than anyone else. He hesitated to think what could have
happened if Tom or one of his loyalists had done it. Theoretically it was
impossible for anyone not connected to the Order already but as galling as it
was Tom had a history of the impossible and could devote a lot of skill to a
problem like that so a few hours of intense work by Fawkes now was better than
finding out the hard way. The precision of the mental attack had been
impressive and Dumbledore couldn’t help but wonder if that was self-gained
knowledge of if Harry had acted on Tom’s theoretical knowledge of mental links.
Either way with the link between Harry and the Dark Lord the way it was, they
were going to have to take more precautions. Harry had said he could sometimes
see Tom but the last thing they needed was for Tom to be able to see him.
       “We’ll just have to add mental discipline, occlumency to his studies,”
the ancient wizard said finally as a whoop echoed up from below.
       Dumbledore smiled as Harry flew at almost break neck speed over the
ground. His robes whipped around him and he seemed to move with an almost
liquid grace as he pulled his broom through manoeuvres which would make most
professional quidditch players jealous. It was good to see that such simple
things could still give Harry pleasure.
       $Weapons training as well,$ Fawkes noted, one fire red eye following a
breath taking dive critically. The fire bird didn’t even notice the way his
wings twitched involuntarily.
       $Yes... How did Tom pull Harry out of his nightmare?$
       $Nothing so formal,$ the phoenix said. $He probably felt discomfort in
his mind and moved to get rid of it. I doubt he even knew he was in contact
with Harry but I will still take the appropriate precautions. If it was just
the nightmare I wouldn’t be concerned but there was an incident.$ Fire eyes
looked towards the Headmaster seriously and Albus pulled his attention from
Harry who currently looked like he was dancing in the air.
       “Harry never mentioned anything,” Dumbledore said aloud.
       $There wasn’t much to mention but it is something to be aware of. Blaise
confronted Harry during their OWLs.$
       The ancient wizard gasped, twinkling blue eyes becoming frosty at the
thought. “Mr Zabini didn’t try anything?”
       $No, it was more an exchange of words, blustery teenage posturing. But
Blaise promised that Harry would never be forgiven for fighting the
inevitable.$
       Dumbledore sighed. The followers of the Dark were so predictable, even
those who were outcast. “What did Harry say?”
       $He laughed and said that as long as he was true to his soul then no
matter what happened there was nothing to forgive and that was why even though
he understood, he would still fight, would kill because anything less would be
abandoning his path.$
       The Headmaster nodded, pinching his lower lip lightly with one hand as
he considered the situation. “How did Mr Zabini take that?”
       Fawkes seemed to laugh. $He didn’t understand.$
       “Did Harry explain?”
       $Yes. He said that there had been very few in the war who had been true
to their desires. A handful; Voldemort, you, Lucius and precious few others.
For them, no matter how their actions are construed, there is honesty because
they had at least attempted exactly what they said they would do, regardless of
the consequences and so others who have less fortitude should not dare to imply
that there is anything to forgive because it is them who have not had the
strength of their convictions. And so, no matter what happens he does not hate
but he will fight for his own path... That’s essentially what he said,$ Fawkes
noted as he fell silent.
       Dumbledore blinked as he considered the implications. A slow smile
spread over his face and he looked back at Harry who was now weaving through
the quidditch hoops. It appeared he had matured much more than the Headmaster
had thought to understand that right or wrong, everyone followed their own path
and all it really took to be strong was not to waver along the way.
“Interesting,” he said finally, “very interesting.”
       $Indeed,$ Fawkes agreed. $He will be truly formidable once his power
stabilises.$
       “I was not expecting such maturity for years,” Albus murmured. “And
while it would have pained me if Harry had killed Tom in anger, in hate, I was
prepared for that, to help him work though the invariable problems but if Harry
has already progressed past hatred... then he will become so much more than a
mere weapon.”
       Fawkes nodded. $He’s not completely there yet, but soon... He is
progressing.$
       “Good,” Dumbledore sighed, turning away from the window towards his
paperwork. “As soon as Harry recovers from his Coming of Age Ceremony we will
have to retest his limits but I think, with training, we can have Harry ready
by the end of summer. That should keep the Ministry happy and we can announce
his status with his OWL results. That should serve to confirm that he is
worthy.”
       $We should probably release Elliot’s article then or maybe to another
strike with the vampires to fully instil confidence.$
       “Yes, that would work,” Dumbledore agreed. “A new warrior, a decisive
victory and that article will be nothing more than a desperate publicity stunt.
The public need not fear.”
       Fawkes trilled and Albus was comforted by the song as he sat behind his
desk. The road was still long but the end was in sight. The light would rule
the dark... He would see that happen.
===
       Ollivander looked up as the bell chimed indicating a customer had
entered his store. A small frown graced his features as he realised he hadn’t
heard of couldn’t feel his customer, which either meant they were very skilled
or very weak. With what was happening in the wizarding world he expected it to
be the former. With a sigh he rose, placing the small file back on the bench as
he walked between the stacks of wand boxes towards the front of his store.
       “Ah, I should have been expecting you,” the silver eyed man murmured as
he saw who his customer was.
       Ruby eyes glittered from under a deep cowl. The robes were simple but
the fabric was of a very high quality but they wouldn’t have attracted
attention in the bustle of Diagon Alley and that had obviously been the intent.
Most wizards would have seen nothing more than a fellow who was prosperous.
       “You do not object?”
       “It is not my place to object,” Ollivander said, motioning the Dark Lord
further into his store before ushering the serpentine man through the stacked
wands into the work room.
       Snake eyes flickered over everything, lingering briefly on the shadow in
the corner before Voldemort entered the room. Ollivander was not offended. He
knew his guest... well, that might be too familiar but Ollivander knew the
minds of Dark Lords. It was his job to know.
       “But will you allow it?”
       The wand maker couldn’t help but smile slightly. Mr Riddle had always
seen that the answer to one question was not necessarily the answer to all
other questions and was prepared to ask the pointed ones. “Ah... that is a
different matter.”
       The Dark Lord just looked at him, waiting for him to clarify.
       “I will of course expect that you are not found, and if you are, you
will retreat rather than fight. I will not have my store become a battle
ground,” there was a hint of steel in his voice. The restriction was imposed
not because he was afraid for his personal safety, rather he wasn’t sure how
Harry would react, and it was not something he wanted to see.
       “Of course,” came the hiss with a small nod.
       “Then you may stay, although I must warn you, it will not be what you
expect.”
       “He is my mate, I doubt it will be ordinary.”
       “No, not ordinary,” Ollivander objected. “It will, even for you, be
dangerous. There is so much power there and it will not bow to anyone. It will
recognise you so it may not attack but if it senses even a hint of danger it
will strike and danger may include non submission. It’s different for each
individual.”
       “You speak as if Harry cannot control his own power.”
       Ollivander shrugged. “He will be in absolute control... When you came of
age, Mr Riddle you were not awoken to the power of Slytherin. Your power did
not have its own consciousness, so to speak. Mr Potter will not only be
controlling his personal power, but also the power of Gryffindor and so it will
be different for him. I’m not sure how but I know it will be different,”
Ollivander trailed off.
       The human Coming of Age ceremony was not something which made a lot of
sense to him. It was different for each wizard or witch and not all of them
required seclusion. It was not really a ceremony per sae but it was a time when
the individuals power wanted their complete attention and would not settle for
anything less. That being said, for someone of Mr Potter’s ability, coming
between him and his power was not really a good idea, not even for someone of
near equal ability, at any time, let alone when it wanted its masters
attention. Ollivander finally shook his head. The ceremony, such as it was,
made sense when dealing with people like Harry, it just did not make sense for
many lesser wizards or witches. In fact most of them slept through it.
       There were times when he understood humans, truly understood every petty
thought and noble deed but then they would have contradictions such as this and
he was forced to question himself. It didn’t happen too often but it was
frequent enough that he was aware of it. Regardless though he was one of the
few tenshi who understood at all. The Watcher.
       The Dark Lord regarded the protracted silence calmly, blood red eyes
flat but patient before the wizard sensed something and nodded. “I will be
careful,” Voldemort murmured, not truly fully understanding the wand maker but
wise enough to humour him. “And in the end it will be Harry’s choice.”
       Silver eyes flicked to the shadow in the corner as it seemed to laugh
but as the Dark Lord shown no reaction after a moment Ollivander shrugged.
Either he was imagining it or they shadows would teach Voldemort what they
wanted him to know when they felt it was time.
       “They won’t be here for a few hours yet,” the wand maker said. “Do you
have other business, or would you prefer to stay?”
       “I will stay,” Voldemort said as he settled in the position Ollivander
had motioned him to earlier, half closing his eyes as he took on an attitude of
rest.
       The wand maker nodded moving back to his workbench, picking up his file
and turning towards the oak he had been moulding. “Xeloc finally explained
things to me,” he said softly and wasn’t surprised to see the Dark Lord shift
at the name. “He was wondering how Xatarass was.”
       Voldemort smiled. “I should have known that eventually you would have
found out, although this is recent. Xatarass is well. He is inordinately proud
of his great$grand child.”
       “I only determined it because Xeloc asked,” Ollivander assured him.
“Although you have probably achieved immortality in a number of ways besides.
It’s not an area that lends itself to experimentation. Xeloc had been speaking
with Xentor and neither of them have seen or heard from Xir for a while. They
were wondering if he was with you?”
       Ruby eyes opened wide and Ollivander sensed the change as Xatarass came
to the fore. It was more than just the physical change of mottled skin, sharp
fangs and the acrid tang of poison in the air, it was also the aura that the
Dark Lord manifested and the wand maker knew he was only seeing it because he
was so studiedly neutral and all information was confidential. The man may have
doubted but the Serpent within knew who and what could be trusted with such
information and now with Xatarass awake, Voldemort was truly the Serpent Lord.
“Trouble?” Even his voice was more sibilant.
       “They are not sure,” Ollivander said as he filed the wood, his mind
thinking about the core for the wand. “But neither of them want another Xeau.”
       Xatarass hissed.
       Dumbledore had killed Xeau during the war with Grindlewald. The basilisk
had been relaying the message that the serpent line founded by
Ximir$Slytherin’s Basilisk$would not support that Dark Lord. Xeau had simply
been in the wrong place at the wrong time and had no intention of fighting but
Fawkes...
       It had not been a good day for those of Ximir’s line and Xatarass had
vowed vengeance for the death of his brother and the whole line was devoted to
seeing Fawkes die. The serpents were patient enough that they would wait for
Dumbledore’s death but the phoenix... Basilisks were almost immortal the same
as the phoenixes so the two were prepared for a battle that would potentially
last centuries.
       It didn’t concern Ollivander, he would remain neutral but it would be
interesting. Those beings who lived for centuries developed relationships, or
at least had passing contact with many other immortals. So long as they all
understood that there could come a day when they may stand against each other,
such acquaintances were beneficial. Of all the immortals, most accepted the
tenuous and flexible arrangement for what it was, although amongst the more
numerous or esoteric the relationship was not drawn upon. The vampires for
example almost never talked to the others. The wand maker though, quite enjoyed
speaking with those he could but while the rift between the basilisk’s and the
phoenixes hadn’t yet spilled over into the relationships between the other
immortals, it was only a matter of time. It would be interesting to see who
sided with who.
       The basilisk line of Ximir was perhaps the most integrated with the
wizards but they kept themselves hidden from most. Dumbledore hadn’t known but
Fawkes had no doubt recognised the significance of the basilisk Xeau.
       Xatarass hissed softly with a strange duality of snake and man. “I will
search for him. Has anyone heard from Xal, Xentor and Xuld?”
       “Not that I know of,” Ollivander shook his head as he lay the file
aside. The wood was slightly too brittle but he had worked with worse before.
He would just need to be careful when picking a core for it. It would need to
have extra flexibility to account for the wood’s lack of ability. “They are
probably with Xir.”
       “I will make it a priority then,” Voldemort said.
       Ollivander looked up. It was still surprising to see the basilisks care
for others but in the case of mate or family they were ruthlessly protective.
“Who had children?” he asked changing the subject. He had known that Xatarass
had two grandchildren$Xentoth and Xar but he had not heard of either of them
mating.
       “Xentoth has two children, Xeros and Xaos.”
       Ollivander nodded, picking up and then rejecting some unicorn hair. It
had come from a stallion that was too old and set in his ways and would only
enhance the fragility of the wood. “Both recent?”
       “Yes. Xeros is developing well,” Xatarass said, “But Xaos has exceeded
all expectations.” The basilisk gave a pleased hiss and the wand maker could
almost detect a smile
       “Really? What has he done?” Ollivander asked, looking at the plume of a
fwooper. The wand wouldn’t be powerful enough if he used that and he couldn’t
use a more powerful plume such as one from a phoenix since the wood would not
support such power.
       Xatarass laughed, the sound odd but pleased. “Ah... that would be
telling. But I am looking forward to the result. Xaos may, even though he is
the youngest, become the heir to Ximir.”
       The wand maker frowned, his silver eyes clouding. “I didn’t think that
was possible unless he joined with one of Salazar’s blood.”
       Ash from the remains of an ashwinder would be too fragile as would
crushed fire crab shell. “And I didn’t think there was anyone of Salazar’s
blood except your host, Xatarass.”
       “That’s true but that’s if you wish to be the Slytherin Heir. Ximir
joined with Salazar because of power, not because of the serpent gift. Xaos may
succeed us all in power.”
       Ollivander’s eyes opened wide... that would mean...
       “We are interested in power,” Xatarass hissed laughingly at the
surprised reaction of the wand maker. “Salazar was very powerful and his gift
sealed the deal with Ximir. My Lord Voldemort is similar but Xaos’ host...”
Both snake and man smiled. “The arrangement there is something different. He
will never be the Serpent Lord. I have taken that position but there are power
positions of power.”
       “I did not think you would allow it,” Ollivander murmured, looking
around his workshop for a suitable core. There was nothing here that caught his
attention, nothing felt right for the wood.
       “Xaos asked himself and since there was a very real possibility he would
merge with or without my permission, it was best to agree. It was also a part
of the agreement so in the end I had no real choice.” Xatarass should have been
upset but he wasn’t.
       “Agreement?”
       “Salazar once promised to protect Gryffindor so that he wouldn’t have to
use his gift and as Ximir was bound by that, so too are we bound but my host
also made an agreement when we joined that he would protect Ximir’s line in
exchange for my immortality and our protection of his mate.”
       “Ah,” Ollivander nodded, understanding, although he was frowning at the
wood. There was more with the agreement but it wasn’t his concern. “I was
surprised when I heard you had joined with him, given the situation and all.”
       Xatarass seemed to shrug, a novel gesture for a serpent. “His body was
made from the flesh of serpents and so it was a natural progression.”
       The wand maker sensed Voldemort resume control midway through the
sentence. “It is an immortality of sort,” the Dark Lord added, signalling that
that particular conversation was over. While Ollivander had been neutral for
centuries there was no need to tell him everything. “Problems?” he asked in an
effort to continue a conversation.
       The silver eyed man smiled. It appeared that Voldemort had achieved his
goal of immortality although it was probably not exactly what he was looking
for.
       There were several ways for a mortal to achieve immortality. He knew
about them because he had watched for a long time; Philosophers Stone, Vampire
Blood, mergence or memory. And for most wizards immortality was in memory. The
Dark Lord hadn’t wanted that, although he already had it, and in all likelihood
he had merged with Xatarass he had probably been the closest to achieving
another form of immortality. Reduction to spiritual form, at the loss of body
was not what he had been aiming for but it was immortality.
       “Only a minor one,” he said finally. “The wood is too brittle for most
cores.”
       “Ah,” the Dark Lord blinked. “Oak,” he murmured looking over, “Loyal,
steadfast, strong.”
       “Yes, but this wood is brittle so I need something flexible to balance
it.”
       “Use blood,” Voldemort looked over at the vials.
       “Nothing is truly suitable,” Ollivander said. “Dragon blood would
shatter it, unicorn blood is good as an additive but does not transmit enough
power and most other creature’s blood isn’t powerful enough. It would be a wand
but it wouldn’t be suitable for anyone.”
       “Use the blood of the wizard who will use it then. That way it will be
as flexible as they are capable of and as powerful as the individual can be.”
       “True but the wizard would have to be very powerful to draw the magic
through their own blood and the only wizards I know of that power level don’t
need a new wand.”
       The Dark Lord laughed. “True, true,” he conceded. “But someone who is
bound to us...” He trailed off. “Half fill it with dragon blood, a bit from
every time,” he instructed suddenly, “and in time I will bring the other half
of the core to you.”
       Ollivander arched one eye brow. It was a surprising statement but the
Dark Lord seemed sure. “All right,” he agreed, laying the wood aside for later.
“For the clarification of your immortality and the conversation with Xatarass I
will.”
       Voldemort laughed his eyes flashing with the light of a basilisk. “It is
only one type of immortality,” he said but feel silent as the bell jingled
again, signalling the arrival of new customers. Customers who had distinctive
and powerful auras.
       “The back room,” Ollivander said as he rose and walked back into the
main section of his shop.
       “Albus,” Voldemort heard the wand maker’s voice echo as he moved weaving
illusions around himself. “It’s been too long,” Ollivander continued but the
Dark Lord heard no more as the door to the back room closed behind him.
       Now all he had to do was wait.
===
       Harry was bemused. It had been an interesting day and not what he had
been expecting but then he wasn’t sure what he had been expecting. He’d never
really had a birthday before, well... not a proper one before Hogwarts. Every
birthday he could remember involved the Dursleys, sometimes the men although if
they knew it was his birthday, they had offered congratulations and quiet
celebrations in the dark dead of night. Even once he had started school, while
his friends had made sure he had gotten presents, his birthdays had simply
meant more chores. So this one so far had been rather novel... although at the
moment the power running through him was distracting.
       The shadows had been particularly active today, so much so that whenever
he focused on a shaded area it literally seemed to be crawling. It wasn’t just
him though. He had over heard the others talking about it. Dumbledore and
Sirius had explained what would happen today but he was finding the whole
experience odd.
       It tickled. He could feel his power moving on his skin but it was also
tickling his insides. It wasn’t uncomfortably but it was distracting and he had
been just slightly distracted all day.
       He’d woken to find several owls waiting with presents and had held off
opening them until Remus, Sirius and Hagrid had come to the Gryffindor common
room, although it had been quite a squeeze for the half giant to fit through
the portrait. The presents had been from Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Mrs Weasley,
Dobby and rather unexpectedly from Fred and George. The other tree had carried
their own presents in and Hagrid had rather happily told him that Dumbledore
had another few presents for him later.
       Harry had nodded feeling a duel pang from within. He’d barely seen
Hagrid lately and that was making him feel guilty, although the emotion was
lost in the distraction of his power, and the half giant had waved off any
apology, saying that Harry was training so hard that he couldn’t think of
everything. The second pang came from the fact that he couldn’t expect a
present or even contact with his beloved... not even today... especially today.
       It had been fun, he supposed and they had spent a few hours just talking
after he had opened his presents. Then, after some lunch, they had escorted him
to Dumbledore’s office before everyone, after replacing Hagrid with Snape, had
flooed to Daigon Alley where Dumbledore was now talking with Ollivander. Harry
couldn’t bring himself to listen. Instead he looked around distractedly taking
in the stacked wands and the almost haphazard composition of the store. It
seemed crowded with them all there, Harry noted vaguely, remembering that even
when it had just been him and Hagrid the store had seemed full. With Sirius,
Remus, Snape, Dumbledore and himself, not to mention Ollivander, he was
wondering how he was finding enough air.
       Finally the wand maker turned to him and despite his distracted state,
Harry found himself drawn into the man’s silver eyes. Ollivander was calm and
completely unfazed at the stock of people crowding his store. “This way, Mr
Potter,” he said motioning Harry to the counter before placing his hand on his
shoulder and guiding the younger man around the counter.
       Harry moved with the guidance but just stood as soon as Ollivander
stopped guiding him. There was silence for a few moments before Harry realised
that everyone was waiting for him to speak. He blinked a few more times as his
brain sluggishly tried to come up with something appropriate. “Eh... I’ll see
you in the morning,” Harry said finally.
       Sirius and Remus shared a long look before they both burst out laughing.
Dumbledore looked mildly amused, blue eyes twinkling happily while Snape just
scowled. Usually Harry would have been upset as his still chortling Godfather
but right at the moment he didn’t care as Sirius stepped forward to embrace
him.
       “We’ll see you then,” the canine animagus said seriously, ruffling his
hair. “You’ll feel better then.”
       “Padfoot!” Remus objected. “There’s nothing wrong with him. Don’t worry
him!” The werewolf turned to Harry. “It will be over in the morning Harry.
Don’t worry about today though. This is normal and I know Lily and James would
have been so proud.”
       Snape just rolled his eyes but Harry noticed how, as the potion master
was looking around the room, the greasy haired man started suddenly, taking an
unconscious step back at something. He followed the man’s line of sight and saw
nothing out of the ordinary. Some staked wand boxes, a few odd papers, a
curious little wizarding something and a shadow... Oh, that was it. His
servants’ words came back to him clearly. ‘Snape was almost one of us,’ and
Harry almost laughed at the real meaning there.
       “This way, Mr Potter,” Ollivander said suddenly, cutting off further
thought and motioning Harry deeper into his store. Ollivander fussed and herded
him towards a small door that was almost lost amongst the wand boxes. “In here,
Harry,” he said, carefully opening the door and making sure that Harry ducked
his head enough upon entry. “I will come by to collect you in the morning,”
Ollivander said as he closed the door, “so please do not wander out until that
time. You will find everything you need in there.”
       With that the door closed securely and Harry listened as it sounded like
Ollivander was pushing locks home. It might be necessary, he wasn’t sure at the
moment.
       Harry looked around. It was a small room with no windows and he could
tell from the empty feel that Ollivander had moved out whatever it was that he
kept in here. There was a single padded chair in the corner but there was also
enough room to lie down if he desired and it looked like when he wanted sleep
he’d have to because they chair was occupied by the Dark Lord who was watching
him hungrily. Harry didn’t even blink, registering but not able to act upon the
information and he simply flicked his eyes further around the room.
       The thrum of magic sounded in his ears and without thinking Harry looked
around again, examining the shields. They were more than impressive and the
only thing that Harry could compare them to was the overall Hogwarts shield,
although the functionality of these was different. He couldn’t sense the
outside and he was positive Dumbledore and the others could not sense him.
Fawkes had retreated for the duration of the ceremony, claiming that outside
influences were dangerous but Harry was suddenly certain that even if the
phoenix had of wanted to he couldn’t sense passed these shields.
       I wonder what made them, Harry thought as he stepped forward
tentatively. He understood the necessity for such shields but wondered if
perhaps the knowledge and means had been lost to the wizarding world.
       :Finally,: the shadows declared and Harry was startled by both their
open joy and intensity as they descended around him.
       Darkness itself seemed to materialise and it danced around him, tickling
his skin and Harry instinctually opened his power to the Shadows allowing them
to eat everything they could.
       They were powerful, they were protective, they were his.
       Harry smiled as they began seeping inwards but his almost intoxication
with his power faded sharply as agony blossomed through his body.
       This wasn’t meant to happen. Harry gritted his teeth as he fell to his
knees, a wave of power pulled from him, pinning the Dark Lord, who had been
moving in response to his pain, in place. He grimaced before screaming as the
shadows continued to pour into him. Despite his pain they weren’t concerned and
were still intent on consuming as much light as they could. There was a roaring
in his ears and in between gasping for air Harry wondered what he should do.
       This wasn’t like anything Remus, Sirius or Dumbledore had described. He
could feel Xaos, the basilisk had joined with the shadows and was slowly
materialising around him as huge comforting coils.
       :Change, Master!: The Shadows cried as Harry screamed again, feeling as
if something was trying to rip his body apart from within but he understood the
instruction and murmured the animagus charm between gulps for air as he tried
to gather his power.
       As he said the words he could feel the power flowing through his body in
an amount he couldn’t hope to harness. It was wild and free but it responded to
the arcane words and the flow changed, and Harry felt the power pushing against
flesh and bone as it sought to change his body.
       No... he couldn’t... The cry was instinctive and Harry gasped as his
power suddenly pulled in two ways. The Shadows continued to crawl around him,
whispering soothingly as they encouraged him to change.
       “I can’t,” Harry eventually cried, sobbing as he clawed at his skin. His
back was on fire and his fingers and toes were throbbing with the magic trying
to change them.
       -Master,- Xaos whispered. -It’s okay... Relax.- The now manifest serpent
hissed butting his blunt nose into Harry’s crumpled form. He was designed to
protect Harry from external threats and now that he was a part of Harry’s power
he could not protect his master from himself.
       :Help him,: the Shadows snapped at the Dark Lord as Harry clenched his
fists so hard that his nails cut the skin and the smell of blood filled the
room.
       Voldemort nodded, rising against the power still beating at him. He
reached out to caress Harry with his mind but was surprised at the welter of
images that assaulted him, combined with an instinctual overriding fear. As
quickly as he could, the Dark Lord closed the link, knowing that he couldn’t
help Harry that way. He had a very strong mental presence but with the turmoil
in Harry’s mind there was no way he would be heard, although he now knew what
was wrong.
       “It’s okay,” he said, stepping forward as Xaos shifted to let him
through. “Let go,” he added, allowing his body to shift as much as possible
into the form of the Serpent Lord while retaining the ability to speak and to
jump back if the power did not recognise him.
       -Let go,- he said again. -It is only a shell.-
       “No, I can’t.”
       -It changes nothing,- Voldemort said. -You will still be you and you
will still be mind. Let go of the shell you call humanity. It is not necessary.
You will not be considered less than human.- The Dark Lord said, trying to
sooth his mate’s instinctual fear of the change of shape into his animagus
form. The older wizard smiled as the power flows evened out slightly and he saw
claws begin to form on Harry’s fingers.
       So you are a predator? He thought, resisting the urge to examine the
wicked cutting edges. Harry’s breathing levelled out and Voldemort vanished the
tearing robes as the darkness swirled around Harry again.
       -You are more than human, beloved, and no matter what form you take, you
will always be mine,- the Serpent Lord said, jumping backwards as Harry pitched
forward, his claws causing sparks on the floor as two mounds pushed out from
his back.
       :Finally,: the Shadows murmured, lapping up the blood that flowed from
the wounds on their master’s back, as he continued to change.
       Xaos curled himself back around Harry, disappearing as he once again
took up his position as a guard. He was trusted to keep Harry safe and he would
do that no matter what form his master took. The Shadows wrapped themselves
around Harry again, obscuring Voldemort’s vision but through the rising power
levels he could feel he was thankful for their shielding, even if they were
doing nothing more than gorging on the copious amounts of light Harry was
emitting.
       He started when Harry’ screamed but was pushed back by the power and was
shocked when the protective sphere of shadow seemed to crack, and light began
streaming though... The energy was enormous and he heard the shadows straining
as they tried to consume it all.
       :Down!: They screamed mentally as they scattered and Voldemort didn’t
question, their tone was too urgent, too powerful for that. He just ducked.
       :Shield!: They added the demand.
       As a Dark Lord, Voldemort hadn’t survived for as long as he had without
being able to pull off rather impressive defence and offence with little to no
preparation. Now was no different except he’d never really thought that he’d be
defending this desperately against his pet. He cast shields and felt the
shadows reinforce them but gasped, pouring energy into defence as Harry’s power
pounded against him.
       :Pull from our Master’s energy. Reinforce them that way.: The Shadows
sounded desperate... afraid but it was a fear the Dark Lord could understand.
       He knew Harry was powerful but he had no idea that he had this much
power. It shouldn’t be possible for a human... Ah... He smiled, a serpentine
smile of satisfaction as he reached through the bond for power and was relieved
as the pressure on his shields lessened as Harry’s power recognised itself. It
shouldn’t be possible for a human to have this much power but he still did not
yet know his precious’ animagus form.
       Voldemort looked up but could see nothing as the Shadow’s had woven
themselves completely through the shields, reinforcing what they could. They
waited and bother the Dark Lord and Shadows shared a sense of anticipation.
       Harry was theirs. They each owned him in different ways and so this
overwhelming power was theirs but it could destroy them. It added a delicious
tang to the force pressed against the shield. It was an indescribable pleasure
to know that such a being, the only one who could destroy you, belonged to you.
       Finally the pressure faded and the shadows loosened their protective
mesh. Voldemort blinked at the sudden light. :Thank you,: he said. They had
needed his shield as much as he had but it would have been harder without their
help and if he had learnt nothing else from his brief time with them it was
that he should not look down upon their abilities. He afforded them the same
respect as he did the serpents. They were, after all Harry’s direct servants,
as the serpents were his. They deserved his respect. There was a feeling of
acknowledgement but they were focused on other things...
       He turned towards his little one and froze... “By Salazar’s ghost!” He
murmured finally.
       Harry had completed his animagus transformation and the shadows were now
clinging to him. There was a pleased feel to them as they caressed every part
of their master’s new form, familiarising themselves with it and Harry’s power.
His precious was still effectively unconscious; Voldemort could see that as he
examined the inhumanly beautiful form that was his mate.
       The power flows were almost visible to his normal eyes but were
burningly painful when he tried to look at the magic. Harry wouldn’t be awake
for a while, not when trying to assimilate that level of power.
       Voldemort licked his lips. That just gave him longer to admire the
beauty before him. It wasn’t usual for him to just examine anything of beauty
beyond how he could use it but Harry had always been an exception to that rule.
       Harry’s hadn’t gained any height with his transformation, not if you
didn’t include his wings. If you did then he had gained a significant amount.
Huge white wings sprouted from Harry’s back, arching up over his head before
falling down over his body. His hands now had claws and Voldemort could see
them on his toes as well and wondered if they were poisoned. His eyes were
still emerald but now appeared to be almost liquid and the Dark Lord knew that
they would hold a significant power of attraction. Male and Female alike would
not be able to resist their lure, not when Harry wished it. But it was a gaze
that could kill. Xaos ensured that. Beautiful and powerful. Deadly. Voldemort
laughed in delight. Harry’s hair was still jet black and. While the clash
between his hair and wings should have been jarring, with the shadows moving so
freely around their master it was natural and the black and white complimented
each other, only adding to Harry’s beauty.
       Although Harry’s body looked to be still human and was still as lithe
and finely muscled as always, Voldemort knew it had changed significantly.
Harry was a predator, arguably the strongest, purest predator known to the
wizarding world - a tenshi. A being of pure magical energy and the Serpent Lord
could see places - shoulders, elbows, knees, chest and hips - where Harry’s
magic was no concentrated to the point where it would physically protect his
body... That was if Harry chose to have a physical presence. As a tenshi he
could alternate between a pure magical form, and a physical form. One
intangible, magical and invincible; one physical, magical and invincible....
       Much more not even Voldemort knew since there was not a lot of
information about them. Tenshi didn’t consider themselves a part of this world
and so they had generally remained hidden, only interfering for reasons they
never stated.
       And that was only if they were caught.
       Voldemort suspected they had interfered selectively in the wizarding
world far more than was reported. After all for life forms of pure magic it
would be easy to hide among those of rather inferior ability. The Serpent Lord
smiled as he realised a few of the implications... Oh he was so going to enjoy
the battles now.... Dumbledore’s surprise, right at the end was going to be
sweet... so very sweet. But for now he had more important things to do.
       Looking upon Harry, Voldemort felt something awaken that he hadn’t felt
for a number of years, something that was inherent in all humans but an
instinct that was particularly strong in Dark Lord’s when confronted with a
being like Harry.
       Innocence, purity, power.
       He wanted it, not to taint, although the taking often did taint but to
own. He knew that this taking would not, could not taint. He did not possess
enough darkness to ever taint the purity before him and it only made his desire
stronger. He wanted it and acted without thinking. There was after all, only
one way to claim possession of a mate.
       Voldemort knew as he grabbed Harry that his mate was still lost in the
throes of power for his coming of age and thus hadn’t even felt the arms around
his body but the Dark Lord was pleased to note that Xaos was not similarly
distracted, surging into existence on Harry’s skin, red eyes blazing for an
instant before the basilisk recognised the Serpent King. Xaos nodded, a
serpentine smile in the flickering of his tongue as he faded. Voldemort didn’t
note the gesture, he was too intent on claiming his prize. The sight of the
serpent did serve as a reminder though. A basilisk could not kill another
basilisk with its gaze, nor could they kill one they had bonded to and while
Harry was his little basilisk he had not yet completed the full bonding ritual
between two serpents.
       -Later!- Xatarass hissed at him, the serpent seemingly even more eager
than him to claim the flesh before them.
       The basilisks presence faded from the Dark Lord as they merged and his
skin mottled, regal excited patterns tracing their way over his body and his
eyes flashed and split as power flowed through him. His already sharp senses
came alive as the serpents inhuman sense of taste and smell activated. Harry
was still the intoxicating scent of aniseed and vanilla with a tang of power
that bespoke volumes but there was also the sharp scent of poison and the
Serpent Lord recognised the taste of his own venom on his fangs, and felt the
almost acid liquid now flowing through his claw like finger tips.
       Heedless the Dark Lord reached out, grabbing at Harry to turn his mate
towards him. The poison flowing through him was just another way of claiming
his mate and he didn’t even try to fight the desire running through him.
Fathomless emerald eyes looked up at the movement but before anything more than
the barest recognition registered, Voldemort swooped, claiming Harry’s mouth
for his own with a kiss that left little doubt as to his intent.
       Aniseed, vanilla and venom...
       The taste combined like a spur, driving the older man on to claim
everything utterly. This was something only he would ever be permitted, and
this was something the Dark Lord wouldn’t just kill to protect, Harry was his
mate and if anyone even thought of claiming his pet for their own, he would
destroy them utterly, until not even that fools memory remained.
       Harry didn’t respond which did not perturb the Dark Lord as he could
feel the power his mate was lost in. His precious might not be reciprocating
just yet but the black haired boy had not pulled away. Long fingered hands ran
down Harry’s back, tracing around the base of his mate’s magnificent wings and
the Serpent Lord was surprised momentarily when Harry stiffened, back arching
and his eyes widening before he melted involuntarily at the touch....
       Oh... so that was a sensitive spot? Voldemort filed the information
away, laughing at the soft cry Harry made as he danced his fingers over the
spot again before moving lower. One hand went to the back to squeeze at firm
buttocks, and one had went to the front to tease and massage at Harry’s balls
and slowly hardening cock as Voldemort pushed Harry up against the wall,
causing his impossibly large wings to splay out each side.
       As Harry’s shaft rose under his ministrations the Dark Lord stepped
back, breathless, to admire his handiwork.
       Harry was beautiful, no matter what form he took but in his animagus
form there was now a sense of inhuman perfection that would just be impossible
for any other creature to ever obtain.
       -Mine,- he hissed possessively, not truly conscious of speaking the word
as he continued to gaze upon his mate.
       The tenshi stood against the wall, gazing but not seeing back at him.
Harry’s lithe form was finely muscled and Voldemort knew that despite his
angelic form and even without the help from the shadows Harry was physically
stronger than him. It added to the excitement but right now his mate was
standing like a statue, legs spread, arms resting at his sides, claws sheathed
and wings flat against the wall in a beautiful display.
       The wings arched high above Harry’s head before folding over and coming
down, brushing against his shoulders with the tips sweeping the ground. He
radiated a knowing innocence and purity that appealed in the most primeval way
to the Dark Lord. The phoenix tattoo of the Order marked his chest, the grey
tones of its colours unusual but still enticing. What was more intoxicating to
the Serpent Lord was the outline he could faintly see of Xaos, the basilisk’s
coils wrapped protectively everywhere. Harry would never been a true Serpent
Lord but... oh... he was more than a worthy mate.
       Covering it all though there were red welts, marks from Voldemort’s
hands. The red lines were crossed everywhere on creamy skin but none had broken
it. Tender marks of possession. Voldemort breathed deep, noting that Harry
wasn’t breathless from their encounter before ruby eyes sparkled at the
challenge. He grinned as he stepped back to his beloved, unable to wait any
longer, his desperate need to dominate, to own, coming to the fore at Harry’s
obvious perfection. Harry was his, and only his, that’s why he could do this,
that’s why he had to make the final mark of possession.
       Voldemort stepped forward shedding his lower garments as he moved. He
wrapped a sure long fingered hand around Harry’s erection stroking it briefly
to make sure his mate knew he hadn’t forgotten his need. It was only a moment
though before he bent his knees burying his face in Harry’s neck as he licked
and nipped at the skin there, enjoying the taste of vanilla. Both hands moved
to Harry’s thighs, reaching over slim hips and under soft white feathers to
grasp his legs just below the buttocks.
       The Dark Lord lifted his mate and was amazed once again at how light
Harry was. His animagus form was possibly even lighter than normal, even with
the masses of feathers but the Serpent Lord knew Harry’s form was far more than
it seemed. Weight was relative after all. The movement arched Harry’s back
against the wall as Voldemort pulled forward spreading creamy thighs to move
between them, his own back arched so that the angles were correct.
       -Mine,- he hissed again, straightening his knees as he pulled Harry down
to meet him.
       It was like entering heaven.
       Hot, tight and so sweet....
       He didn’t penetrate very far, his desire hadn’t allowed him time to
prepare his mate but Voldemort was relieved to note that Harry wasn’t damaged
by the intrusion. He could smell no blood. Emerald eyes were still watching
without seeing, reflecting no love or lust despite his body’s arousal but nor
were they reflecting pain.
       Voldemort pulled back and pushed again, pulling Harry further on to him
as he kissed his unresponsive mate. This was possession but he wanted it all,
and that was driving him to be rough, to be unthinkingly demanding. He drove
upwards again into the smaller body, demanding with a force that would have
broken a lesser being and deep in his mind, the older wizard knew he should be
gentler, softer but at the moment he was unable to hear that call. Voldemort
was about half way into Harry before he moved one hand to the sensitive spot at
the base of Harry’s wings and rubbed gently.
       Harry arched unconsciously in pleasure, throwing his head back, mouth
opened in a silent gasp as he drove his hips down, pushing himself further on
to Voldemort’s pulsing cock simultaneously with clamping his muscles around the
member intruding upon him. The Dark Lord was not as restrained, crying out
audibly, red eyes wide as a wave of pleasure washed though him.
       The claiming of innocence, of purity was always pleasurable, especially
with the battles they put up when trying to avoid seduction but it was sublime
when they all innocently reciprocated. There was a purity in the pleasure they
gave that could not be copied.
       Voldemort pulled Harry’s head back, kissing him deeply, extending his
tongue to delve into the moist sweetness that was his mate as he drew back
before plunging forward again, driving himself deeper still into the hot tight
passage. Deeper. He had to get deeper and while he knew Harry’s body was being
forced to accommodate him as quickly as it could it wasn’t enough to slake his
desire and with a rapid stattaco he thrust, shallow and short but powerfully
into the body above him, stopping only when his member was completely engulfed
in Harry’s tight heat and his balls were flush against creamy buttocks.
       Harry’s erect cock was squeezed between them and the Dark Lord leaned
back slightly. It was a good thing Harry’s mind was closed to him at the moment
because despite his mate’s unresponsive form this time, Voldemort was in pure
heaven and being able to feel Harry’s pleasure, to be able to feel the phantom
intrusion in his own body would have been too much. It wouldn’t have been right
when claiming this. He licked his lips, tasting the rich scent of vanilla and
aniseed that was his mate as he adjusted his grip, moving to position Harry
securely so he could truly claim him.
       The serpentine man kept one hand on Harry’s thigh, lifting his mate’s
leg so he could gain better access, the other arm he wrapped around the smaller
boy after placing Harry’s arms over his shoulders. If Harry’s sensitive spot in
his tenshi form was near the base of his wings then he would torment and
pleasure his mate until he screamed his name, begged him to stop and knew that
he was the only one who could do this to him. When he was ready, he licked
Harry’s lightning scar that remained even in this form. It was his first mark
of ownership. Harry tasted good and Voldemort lowered his head to take Harry’s
mouth again as he drew back, pulling halfway out of the exquisite heat that was
his mate.
       Mine, he hissed mentally as he slammed back into Harry.
       Harry’s body was a hot, unyielding pressure around him. He could not get
enough. He thrust again, revelling in the pleasure Harry’s body was giving him
as he dominated the still pliant form. It was not as enjoyable as it perhaps
could have been if Harry had been fully awake but Voldemort was beyond caring.
With calculated determination he stroked gently at the base of Harry’s wings as
he thrust. He groaned into Harry’s mouth as the stimulus caused the boy to flex
his muscles powerfully around the Dark Lord’s cock, driving Voldemort’s
pleasure further.
       The Serpent Lord set up a rhythm, stroking his engorged member as hard
and as fast as he could in and out of Harry’s body in time with the butterfly
caresses he was giving that spot just below the base of his tenshi’s wings,
that spot that caused Harry to clamp around him. Voldemort continued kissing
him, suckling ferociously at the sweetness of Harry’s mouth but eventually the
Dark Lord was reduced to crying out as each thrust sent an explosion of ecstasy
through his body.
       It was a spur and he pumped harder, ignoring the way Harry’s limbs shook
around him from the force of his passion. It didn’t help that his senses were
still being teased by Harry’s power because that was driving any thought of
restraint from Voldemort. He was careful though, as he ploughed Harry into the
wall with the full force of the serpent to ensure that Harry’s head was resting
against one of his wings to provide cushioning against some of his power.
       The Dark Lord felt himself begin to rise towards his climax and the
instinctual knowledge that we would soon lay claim to his mate once again drove
him, if possible harder. Harry shook around him, his muscles squeezing like a
vice with every inward thrust, hindering his pull back with an incredible,
almost vacuum like suction and his arms and legs were moving almost
convulsively with the force of each thrust, bouncing on Voldemort’s shoulders
and hip. The older wizard kissed his prize again, lightly this time as he moved
his hand to Harry’s thigh again, pulling his other leg up and wider apart as he
pounded forward, frenetically. The Serpent Lord leaned back slightly, admiring
bruised lips and licking his own as he savoured his pet’s flavour, driving
himself with slower but more powerful movements deeper into his mate’s body as
he felt his balls tighten.
       As he drove upwards one last time, pulling Harry down to meet him, he
plunged his fangs into the juncture of Harry’s shoulder and neck pumping his
venom into Harry as his seed spurted into the hot tight passage in waves.
       All was still for long moments as the Dark Lord continued to pour
himself into his precious, depositing what seemed like gallons into Harry’s
bowels, unable to stop even as he felt the fluid squeeze down the length of the
hot tight and still convulsing passage he was buried in to drip back on to his
balls and smear over creamy firm buttocks.
       Eventually though his cock stopped pulsing and Voldemort pulled back his
head, careful to pull his fangs completely from Harry’s flesh to avoid tearing
sensitive skin. He ignored the thin rope of saliva that trailed between them,
instead he savoured the sweet tang of tenshi blood. It burned and was almost
like tasting magic itself... Voldemort smiled... Tenshi were magical beings, he
was tasting magic. He licked at the wound as blood pooled at the twin piercings
and slowly lowered them to the ground, enjoying the mix of blood and poison.
       Around the wound were tiny black lines radiating outwards as the poison
spread. Voldemort smiled as Xatarass hissed in satisfaction and they were both
somewhat contented that while Harry still radiated that intoxicating innocents,
with his semen deep within the smaller body and now his poison spreading, Harry
did so for them because for anyone else to claim his pet, they would have to go
through him, and he would destroy anyone who dared approach.
       Voldemort wrapped his arms around Harry, pulling his mate forward,
holding him close as he breathed deeply, the smell of sex strong as he regained
his breath. Harry was still like a puppet but his body was warm and even though
he was a pure magical being, already he was beginning to burn with the effects
of basilisk venom. Any human would have been dead already, the residual poison
on Voldemort’s hands would have killed them long before he coupled with them
but Harry’s hadn’t even felt that and as the Dark Lord ran his hands over his
mate he could feel that the red marks had already faded. It was only because
the poison had been introduced directly that Harry was feeling it at all.
       The presence of Xaos would keep his precious alive, even with the poison
and as soon as Voldemort completed the serpent bonding ritual, much like the
then baby basilisk had done soon after hatching, all effects of his poison
would be annulled and Harry would be completely immune to both his eyes and
poison. It was appropriate after all. Harry was his little basilisk and
basilisks could not kill their own kind with their gaze.
       Voldemort lay down, cradling Harry gently, spreading white wings over
them both comfortably as he felt the lethargy of completely consume him. Harry
was still lost in his power flows and while the Dark Lord would love to claim
his pet again he would enjoy it more if his little one reciprocated. The
Serpent Lord hissed softly, stroking back messy black hair.
       -Mine.-
===
 
 
***** Coming of Age *****
Weapon
Chapter 12 Coming of Age
===
       The Dark Lord woke to an unfamiliar and unexpected but welcomed, oh so
welcomed once he recognised it, warmth surrounding him. He shifted comfortably
aware of the tickle of feathers against his still mottled skin. The serpent had
not yet retreated.
       “Comfy?” The question was whispered in his ear, the breath warm upon his
neck.
       “Yes,” he responded without opening his eyes.
       “Did you enjoy it?” came the further question in a tone that left no
doubt as to what ‘it’ was.
       “Yes.”
       “That’s good.”
       There was something in the tone that caused a sliver of doubt to coil
through him and Voldemort opened red eyes to look up at Harry.
       His mate was sitting beside him, still in his tenshi form, wings arching
high above his head before wrapping around his lithe body. They were too big
for him sitting, and the ends were splayed against the ground providing both
mattress and covering which was why the Dark Lord was so warm. Each feather was
of the purest white and softer than down. Harry was still radiating that pure
innocence which had driven Voldemort’s desire earlier. The Serpent Lord didn’t
hesitate and didn’t think as he reached out to claim Harry once more.
       The doubt grew at the chuckle that reached his ears when he discovered
that he couldn’t move. Well, he could move, he just couldn’t reach towards
Harry. Voldemort hissed, red eyes blazing.
       “No,” Harry murmured, his own eyes laughing. “I couldn’t move,” he added
as he brought one hand to his mouth and licked at the creamy fluid there.
       The Dark Lord groaned at the sight, his desire rising as Harry’s tongue
twisted around his fingers seeking all the salty liquid with vigour.
       “I couldn’t move,” he repeated. “I wanted to but I couldn’t, so it’s my
turn now.” With that Harry moved over Voldemort and briefly brought his lips to
the older man’s kissing him gently so that the Dark Lord could taste himself.
It was only a brief tasting. Despite Voldemort’s efforts to deepen the kiss,
Harry drew back, smiling sultrily as he straddled the Dark Lord’s knees,
raising his wings still higher and wrapping them around the prone serpentine
body to form a curtain so that the Serpent Lord could only look at him. The
leading edges he tucked under Voldemort’s head, raising it slightly to give the
Dark Lord an unimpeded view.
       If it hadn’t have been so undignified the Dark Lord would have been
cursing. There was a dangerous lilt in Harry’s voice and he shifted to test the
extent of the restraints. He could make small movements so the restraint was
not painful but nothing large. He could not move either arms or legs much. Ruby
eyes flashed. Neither man nor serpent liked being restrained, not even for
their mate but the hiss of annoyance died in his throat as he was fixed with a
glare from emerald eyes and quite suddenly he knew exactly what Ollivander had
meant.
       This was not his mate.
       Or rather this was but this was his mate so focused, so driven that even
Voldemort felt a stirring of fear. And not the playful fear that should
accompany the gaze to pleasure him until he screamed for release but true
fear... something he hadn’t felt for years and the wand maker’s almost trivial
warning ghosted back to him with new clarity and urgency. It will recognise you
so it may not attack but if it senses even a hint of danger it will strike and
danger may include non-submission. It’s different for each individual...
       No! Voldemort reminded himself. This was his mate. This was his mate so
consumed by power, so focused on his goal that all else was superfluous. This
was the man he wanted Harry to become in battle, who would give him the
victory.
       Consciously Voldemort forced himself to calm as Harry’s eyes began to
burn at his continued small struggles. It appeared the wand maker had been
correct. Non submission was considered a threat. With that in mind the Dark
Lord smiled up at his mate knowing that he had to see this through to the end.
Harry had submitted to him and if they were to be equal then there was going to
be times when he had to submit to Harry’s desire.
       As the threatening glow faded from Harry’s eyes Voldemort raised one eye
brow, indicating both his acceptance and his question of what was to happen
now. Harry chuckled and shook his head, wicked amusement now lighting his eyes
above the returned sultry smile. “It’s not that easy,” he whispered. “You are
still getting punished.”
       Dignity be damned.
       The Dark Lord gulped.
       Bad move. The ambivalent taste of aniseed and vanilla mixed with his own
seed came back to him and he moaned unconsciously as the taste set off a whole
new wave of desire. Not that Harry was helping.
       He had pulled out a long feather and much to Voldemort’s consternation
but rising pleasure his precious was adding whole new meaning to the word
feather light touches.
       The feather was traced around his nipples, sensitising the skin before
Harry pinched and teased with his now clawed fingers. It was a torture that was
exquisite and Voldemort breathed shallowly as he tried to control his reaction.
That seemed to amuse Harry and Voldemort hissed as the feather was traced lower
over mottled skin.
       “You’re beautiful.”
       Voldemort couldn’t help but frown at the words, looking up at Harry.
Beautiful was not a word associated with him. His body was serpentine,
reconstructed, his features a mockery of what they once were. It was functional
but not attractive. He was a Dark Lord. He would betray, use or kill just about
anyone who came into his knowledge; practical but not beautiful. He was
powerful but it was the power of the serpent, red and poisonous. Not many
appreciated that beauty.
       “You’re beautiful,” Harry repeated, sensing the doubt. He brushed his
feather against Voldemort’s member, enticing a groan. “Your reactions are
honest,” he added. “That is beautiful.”
       Voldemort hissed. It was difficult to lie when such a light touch had
him seeing stars of pleasure. But that could not be the extent of beauty. He
hissed again, the thought driven from his mind as Harry tickled around the base
of his straining cock. The reaction brought a throaty laugh.
       “What is not beautiful about that?”
       The Dark Lord could not respond. He was too busy gasping for air.
Emerald eyes locked with his briefly and Voldemort realised that Harry was no
longer looking at the physical world. The power in his eyes said that he was
looking beyond to the streams of magic the Serpent Lord knew defined him. It
would be a mixture of serpent and man both forms defined and merging into the
other at the moment because Xatarass was awake and his skin was mottled. He
was, at the moment, the full human embodiment of the Serpent Lord.
       Voldemort blinked his vision blurring as he shifted his own gaze. He
couldn’t hold it for long. Harry was too intense for him and he blinked
rapidly, clearing the sun spots that danced in his vision. It was intense but
it had been breath takingly beautiful and almost powerful beyond his ability to
comprehend and to the serpent, power was beauty. The thought that such a
beautiful being was currently pleasuring him was enough to make his breath
catch and his pole hardened further, straining upwards.
       Harry smiled, lowering himself as he raised his hands to caress the Dark
Lord’s torso. “Beautiful,” he murmured before he engulfed the dead of
Voldemort’s cock, sucking hard.
       The Dark Lord groaned, trying to arch into the moist warmth surrounding
him but the invisible restraints held him firm. When Harry extended his tongue,
Voldemort let out a hiss of frustration that was almost lost in pleasure at the
change in texture as the organ swirled over him. Harry’s hands were tracing
patterns all over his skin, the pressure sometimes gentle, sometimes rough. The
changes were electric.
       With a soft sigh, Harry drew back and licked the shaft before him, only
using his tongue to trace out the bulging veins. It was a tease. The Dark Lord
knew it was a tease but it felt so good. With a final rough lick, Harry grinned
at his lover before he blew a gentle breath over the cock now slick with his
saliva.
       The Serpent Lord’s hiss turned into a low moan as he was assaulted by
alternating waves of hot and cold. It burned. It was good but the cold burned
and he cried out. The burning cold vanished suddenly, becoming moist warmth as
Harry swallowed his cock again.
       The pressure was incredible and even though he couldn’t move, Voldemort
was certain that Harry was pulling his hips upwards. Harry began bobbing up and
down, his lips pressed firmly on the flesh in his mouth. It was sweet. You
never expected it to be sweet but his lover was sweet and Harry grinned around
the cock, his tongue laving the member hard with every movement. The best
poisons always tasted sweet but this was a succulence he was allowed to enjoy.
It was a poison for which he knew the antidote.
       No one else could taste this, could know this... Harry closed his jaws
slightly, letting his teeth rake softly over the shaft. Voldemort who had been
breathing in time with his bobs groaned, his breath leaving him in a rush. Was
Harry trying to kill him with pleasure?
       Harry pulled back looking at the Dark Lord carefully. With the serpent
half awake and active, the older wizard’s senses were heightened which was
making his reactions seem excessive, as if Voldemort had never felt this
before. But it was fun! Harry smiled, placing a kiss on the tip of the
straining cock before he moved lower, shifting his hands to white hips as he
licked at Voldemort’s balls. After a few tentative licks, he opened his mouth,
taking one then the other into that moist cavern, playing with each one with
his tongue.
       Eventually Harry returned to the abandoned shaft, sucking hard as he
sank his mouth on to it, opening his throat to fit the entire length into him.
He swallowed hard, allowing his muscles to massage the member strongly before
he bobbed and repeated the action, knowing that Voldemort would love the feel
of being buried within him.
       “Harry!”
       It was difficult to shake his head when he was swallowing the Serpent
Lord’s cock and the small motion he managed shook his hair free and the Dark
Lord gave up all communication, reduced to half articulated sounds as the
flickering wisps of hair stimulated him further. Harry bobbed faster, up and
down, moving one hand to massage his beloved’s balls as his other returned to
the still engorged nipples to tweak and tease them.
       It didn’t take long, between the actions of his tongue, the flick of his
hair and the sucking before Harry felt Voldemort’s cock twitch, gathering
itself for release. With a sudden upward motion, Harry pulled himself off the
Dark Lord, allowing his eyes to meet frenzied red orbs.
       “Harry!” Voldemort gasped at the sudden chill. He was so close, so very
close to release. He could see the precipice his mate had not driven him over
it. It was extremely frustrating because he knew that it would only take the
slightest pressure to grant that release.
       “No,” Harry’s voice was both teasing and firm. “This is punishment,
beloved. I wanted to cum but you did not let me. I’m not going to make it that
easy.” His smile was one of pure evil and Harry licked his lips before once
more blowing gently on the erect shaft. He blew directly downwards so that no
area was shielded, knowing that the whole length was slick and would feel
chilled.
       Harry wasn’t disappointed as his lover stiffened against his magical
restraints both stimulated and frustrated. By the gasping afterwards, Harry
knew that stimulation had won out. Ruby eyes were clouded in pleasure and he
lay limply, trying to regain his breath as waves of pleasure washed through
him.
       The Serpent Lord still hadn’t come and as he regained his senses he
looked back towards Harry, eyes narrowing as he considered his options. There
weren’t many.
       Harry could and most probably would do has he please for a while but
that didn’t help him. With his beloved radiating power he wanted to claim it
again but he couldn’t... Voldemort hissed to himself... Even his thoughts were
scattered.
       Harry laughed again, seeming to sense the underlying question. “Oh,
don’t worry,” he said huskily, moving upwards to hover over the Dark Lord. “I
won’t punish you forever.” He leaned forward to kiss the serpentine man,
allowing the older wizard to deepen it as he wished.
       Their tongues battled easily and eventually Harry drew back, smiling
again as he murmured, “Breathing is such a pain.”
       A smile tugged at the Dark Lord’s lips and Voldemort found that it
wasn’t tinged by his driving need. Without further stimulus he had retreated
from the edge of pleasure. His cock still wanted attention but it would take
more than a gentle push to make him come.
       Harry looked down suddenly, half closing his eyes and once more
Voldemort was transfixed by the unconscious and absolute beauty possessed by
his mate. Harry’s long eye lashes looked beautifully soft and they highlighted
the suppleness of his cream skin. His movements were perfect, graceful and
smooth. They were the movements of one who had no doubt, who walked upon their
path remembering the past but not longing after it.
       Harry’s suddenly predatorial grin brought Voldemort back to the present
and his mate murmured, “I don’t think you’ve been punished enough.”
       The calculating look Harry gave him was one of the most erotic things
the Serpent Lord had ever seen, even if it did chill him while taking nothing
from the arousal he felt.
       Harry moved his wings, pulling them back gently so that Voldemort’s head
was once again resting on the ground. He fluffed them over his head in a
position that felt natural. They were about half folded with each feather
tucked under the one next to it but the position was comfortable for his
muscles and tendons and Harry realised this was probably how they were meant to
sit when not in flight. He shook his head, bemused, pulling his attention back
to the task at hand. He bit his lip lightly at the look on Voldemort’s face,
almost regretting the actions he was taking at the pleasured trepidation he
could see.
       But then he remembered how much he had wanted to move, how much he had
wanted to help in pleasuring his mate, how much he wanted to come and how close
he had been when the Dark Lord had lain with him just after his transformation
and he knew this was the right thing to do. And even though it was frustrating
for the Serpent Lord, it was a pleasurable frustration that would end in a
release that would bind them. He was not so cruel that he would not give his
lover that.
       This was punishment but it was by one who loved and who was loved.
Frustration was an emotion only of the moment. It passed. With the pleasure of
just being with the other, it passed.
       Harry moved his hands down, using one to massage back to stiff attention
the Dark Lord’s slightly softened member. The other he reached around himself,
testing to see that he was still stretched from last time. Unlike last time
lubrication wouldn’t be a problem between the Dark Lord’s cum still inside him
and his saliva coating the pole that would impale him but it had hurt somewhat
and he hadn’t been able to protest when, when in his haste Voldemort hadn’t
cared to prepare him. His body had adjusted then and was still stretched now.
       Voldemort was quickly ready again, not that that was surprising. With
the aborted release the Serpent Lord was more than ready to go again.
       Harry moved lower, kissing Voldemort as he shifted his hips. It was a
little awkward without watching but he managed, gently feeling what he was
doing as he positioned the Dark Lord at his entrance before he lowered himself
to engulf the cock completely.
       He was pleased to see blood red eyes open wide at the warmth but that
didn’t stop anything and Harry bit lightly on Voldemort’s lower lip as he drew
back, clamping his muscles around the member inside him.
       Voldemort gasped and Harry sat up, the movement allowing him to take the
shaft deeper into his body and there was a soft squelch as it settled within
him. Harry moved his knees, straddling the serpentine body and putting his
knees against the Dark Lord’s ribs. Experimentally he clamped his muscles again
as he pushed himself upwards.
       The pressure was incredible and Harry’s moan mixed with Voldemort’s at
the motion. He lowered himself again, squirming slightly to settle the shaft
properly within him. It felt good.
       It always felt good with Voldemort - warm, smooth and comfortable. It
filled him completely, warm and hard, making him feel cold and empty when the
member wasn’t there. Harry moved again, falling into a good rhythm, enjoying
the appreciative moans the Dark Lord was making at his stimulation.
       Voldemort looked up at Harry. His pet’s face was filled with pleasure
and he moaned as the thought that he was the one pleasuring his precious filled
him. He felt himself harden more. Harry’s hands were good but there was
something indescribable when he was buried in Harry’s warmth. He ached the
thrust into Harry’s body but was still restrained.
       The magical binds that his mate had placed earlier hadn’t loosened at
all and while it was obvious Harry was also feeling pleasure from this the
Serpent Lord wanted to help his beloved. He wanted to pleasure Harry. He had
never felt uncomfortable taking pleasure before - many had given him pleasure,
just as Harry was without him moving to see to their pleasure but now he wanted
to share. It felt wrong, not being able to stroke and caress his little one,
not being able to return the pleasure Harry was giving him was distracting from
his arousal.
       Harry saw the slight frown marring the Serpent Lord’s features and
reached out. There should be nothing distracting his lover at the moment,
nothing but the motion up and down, in and out, that thrusting that was
everything when mating and the massaging of his muscles. That should be the
only thing on the Dark Lord’s mind at the moment; nothing but the purity of
passion. He almost released the restraints when he felt the reason for
Voldemort’s distraction. It appeared they shared the same purity of purpose,
the same desire to pleasure the other.
       Harry stretched his mind out, soothing away the discomfort to allow his
mate to enjoy the pleasure he was giving. Besides the Dark Lord couldn’t enjoy
his punishment if he was distracted and Harry couldn’t complete it. There had
to be no distraction, no desire beyond the need for release, and no thought
beyond the pleasure Harry had to give him which would lead to its own
frustration, its own pleasure. Emerald eyes narrowed as he looked into red
orbs, squeezing the cock within him as he drove downwards.
       :Mine,: Harry whispered into the Dark Lord’s mind. :To pleasure, to
tease, to take. What I give you is my choice beloved. Take the pleasure that is
offered for what it is, for this time it is my pleasure to give and yours to
take.: With those words he pulled back slightly, closing his mind again has he
moved, sliding up and down the tool within him.
       It felt good to him as well. The motion in and out filled him and even
as he worked his muscles, grasping then releasing the pulsing member within him
he was massaged as well, the sensation arousing him. He loved it. Harry
grinned, picking up his earlier discarded feather and used it to tease the Dark
Lord’s nipples as he ground his hips through small circles, brushing his wings
over Voldemort’s splayed legs. He brushed gently against them, caressing,
teasing.
       Voldemort looked up as Harry continued to pleasure him, driving himself
on to his engorged cock fully before rising up and falling back again, each
time accompanied by the soft slurp as his cum and Harry’s saliva mixed,
allowing his precious to move more easily, lubricating his motion within the
tight fiery passage comfortably. He had felt Harry within his mind reassuring
him that this was what his wanted, that it was okay that he couldn’t return the
pleasure the tenshi was giving him.
       The Dark Lord gave himself over to the stimulation his mate was giving
him secure now with the knowledge that while he could be helping to pleasure
Harry, this time the only thing Harry wanted was his presence, to know that he
was with him on this night.
       Voldemort gasped as with Harry’s continuous motion he felt himself
tighten and his arousal took on a more urgent edge as he rose. Harry felt his
impending release and drive himself down hard before he stilled, clamping and
releasing his muscles rhythmatically, continuing to stimulate the Serpent Lord.
Voldemort closed his eyed and despite the restraints did his best to drive
himself into Harry’s slick warmth even though he couldn’t move an inch.
       It felt so good, the ripple of muscles along his length. Harry was tight
and hot and it felt so good. He was so close that he panted with desire. His
balls twitched and Harry’s arched his back, driving downwards before he froze.
       “Earh!” The Dark Lord screamed.
       Harry had stopped just before his release and now was remaining as still
as a statue; a beautiful, so indescribably perfect statue that was still
wrapped around his member but was not allowing him the sweetness of release.
       He could feel it, he could taste it, he could see, smell and hear it. he
wanted it so badly. He needed it. His body was painfully aroused, tense and
tight light a string.
       But Harry was not letting him snap. Hissing, he opened red eyes to look
into green orbs that were clouded with their own lust but still composed enough
to maintain control.
       “Punishment,” Harry murmured, still not moving.
       “Harry,” Voldemort said.
       “Yes?”
       The Dark Lord gritted his teeth... He couldn’t say it. He couldn’t beg
even though he wanted it, even though he needed it, even though this was his
mate and it would not be weakness.
       He wouldn’t beg.
       He hissed again as the sweet tension that was everything loosened and
his body retreated, unfulfilled from the precipice. His frustration colours his
magic but Harry wasn’t affected, moving slightly but not enough to drive
Voldemort over the edge. Small hands reached down and stroked his own erection.
       Harry’s breath become short as he pumped his flesh, quickly bringing
himself to release while he slowly massaged Voldemort’s member, keeping it hard
within him but not so hard that the Dark Lord could come.
       Voldemort groaned as Harry came, his breath short. The first spurt
splattered on to mottled skin but the rest was collected by Harry who smeared
his own essence over his still hard member.
       “Harry,” Voldemort panted as his senses were all but overwhelmed by the
taste, smell and sight of his mate’s arousal. If Harry wasn’t going to let him
come, he could at least give him the quasi relief of enjoying his own. The
serpent needed to taste his mate.
       Harry looked confused for a moment before he nodded, smiling gently as
he raised himself, his muscles giving the Serpent Lord’s erect cock one last
squeeze as it existed his body with a soft slurp. He felt hollow without the
hardness filling him but distracted himself from that by collecting his semen
which had spurted on to the Dark Lord’s scaled chest. He raised sticky fingers
to Voldemort’s mouth so that the serpentine tongue could lick them clean.
       Eagerly Voldemort opened his mouth and extended his tongue to lick at
his pet’s essence. It tasted so good and as he devoted himself to sucking off
every last trace of flavour, the evidence of Harry’s completion, in an effort
to stem his own need he missed the intrusion of the first tentative probing
finger until it stroked gently inside him and he arched involuntarily, seeing
stars as he muffled his scream.
       It felt so good and he became painfully aware of his abused erection.
Twice now he had been denied release and he needed it. Already with the mild
stimulation provided by a single digit he was on the plateau before release but
his boy was wary and even when Harry stroked his sweet spot, plunging two
fingers into him the Dark Lord did nothing but enjoy the intense pleasure. He
made no move towards release. It was like he was stretched taunt and to go any
further would be to snap. He sucked hard on the fingers in his mouth, wrapping
his tongue around them as Harry moved them in and out in time with his other
hand.
       Harry had fixed his mouth over one nipple and was currently alternating
between small nibbles and soothing licks. It felt good. It all felt so good
when Harry switches sides as he plunged three fingers into the Dark Lord,
stroking hard as Voldemort arched with his touch, gasping.
       Harry laughed as he moved, muffling Voldemort’s cries with his mouth,
allowing the Dark Lord to battle his tongue. He tasted good. Dry but sweet and
Harry allowed himself to savour his mate as their tongues twisted together. He
moved his hands to Voldemort’s hips, stroking the skin tenderly before he
gripped slender serpentine hips and lifted moving himself into position.
       He pushed upwards gently, easing the head of his cock passed the
loosened ring of muscles before he paused. The Dark Lord thrashed. Or he would
have, if the restraints didn’t hold him firm at the tentative intrusion. He
wanted more. He needed more. But his attempts to pull his mate in deeper only
bounced his own erect penis between them, sending stars of pleasure dancing
before his eyes with every exquisite jolt. Harry didn’t seem concerned and
continued to kiss him passionately but without the urgency Voldemort could
feel.
       Slowly, ever so slowly Harry pushed forward and Voldemort flexed his
muscles, hungrily clasping the intruding member as he tried to swallow it
completely with his ass. The Serpent Lord groaned and bit lightly on Harry’s
tongue when his mate pulled back, one again pausing with only the head of his
cock within the Dark Lord.
       It wasn’t fair. He was still trapped on the pleasurable plateau,
stretched taunt with the desire and need but the deeper Harry was buried within
him the closer to the precipice he got. It felt good but he needed release and
to get that he needed Harry buried within him, to fill him completely.
       Harry seemed nonchalant at the slight pain the bit caused but he pulled
back and began to lick and nip at mottled skin before he pushed forward again.
       “Now, deeper!” Voldemort cried, clenching his fists. He ached to wrap
his legs around his mate and pull him closer, deeper.
       This time though Harry took mercy on him and stopped only when he was
completely buried in hot, tight warmth. His passage had been lubricated by his
own semen smeared over his length. Harry levered himself up to looked down at
his beloved. Voldemort’s expression was intense and Harry was enjoying the
tight heat as the Dark Lord flexed himself around his member in an effort to
induce him to continue moving.
       Split red eyes looked back up at him, clouded with lust. The almost
lipless moth was open and serpent like, Harry could see his beloved’s tongue
flickering, tasting everything. It was difficult to tell if Voldemort was
flushed as his skin was displaying the patterns of a serpent. He was beautiful
in his lust and Harry reached down to stroke the aroused member between them.
       The Dark Lord groaned as the plateau vanished and he felt himself once
again begin to rise to a new level of pleasure. Right now he wanted Harry but
he wanted more than the filling presence of the member within him, he wanted
the pounding friction, the slide of flesh on flesh. He needed Harry to be
ploughing into him, reaming his body as hard as possibly so that he could be
filled completely.
       Thankfully it appeared Harry shared his desire because it only took a
few moments for his precious to move his hand and to lean down, pressing his
stomach against engorged flash as his hips rose.
       The Serpent Lord’s cry at the emptiness was muffled as Harry once again
took his mouth before he thrust downwards. The motion was beautiful; sweet and
fulfilling.
       As Harry set up a good rhythm, Voldemort threw his head back, moaning
with every stroke and allow his mate to nuzzle into his throat, nipping and
licking at the skin. He found that he could move his legs slightly and opened
them wider to allow Harry better access. The Dark Lord felt the smile on
Harry’s lips and he only had a moment to comprehend that before his mate
altered his angle, moving faster and hitting his sweet spot with every motion.
       Ruby eyes squeezed shut at the assault of pleasure. The plateau was long
behind him and with every beautifully fulfilling stroke Voldemort could feel
himself rising to a new release.
       Harry pounded into him, lifting himself upwards to gain better leverage
to plough the body beneath him harder.
       “Yes!” Voldemort cried, gaping as Harry moved faster. If felt so good
and even though he couldn’t really move, Harry was providing him with a
wonderful pleasure. He felt complete. It was a feeling only Harry could give to
him because it stemmed from the love and the care he could feel from his mate,
even when his body was being used to pleasure another. It came from the surety
that he was no just a tool to fulfil lust, that his requirements would be met.
And even though Harry had yet to let him reach completion he could feel the
love and care that his mate felt towards him.
       “Harder,” Voldemort urged, feeling his pleasure level at the delicious
pounding of his mate but still wanting more.
       There was no thought beyond the pleasure. Not only was he being filled
completely with Harry’s member with each stoke the motion was stimulating his
cock and the pressure was amazing. He could smell and taste nothing but the
delicious tang, vanilla and aniseed mixed now with sex. This was his mate and
as he opened his eyes he could see Harry’s inhumanly beautiful face reflecting
his mates pleasure. His wings shook with each motion. He could hear his own
heart beat but he could also hear his breath coming in short gasps and Harry’s
controlled breaths.
       There was very little plateau this time and Voldemort gasped as he felt
his balls tightened and the sweetness he felt contracted, almost as if it was
gathering itself to explode though his body.
       It felt good. It felt so good and he needed this so badly.
       Nearly there.
       Harry slowed, moving more deeply, pausing each time briefly buried
completely within allowing the hot passage to clamp wonderfully around him. He
could feel his mate’s arousal and knew the Serpent Lord was close to release.
And he knew that this release would be strong for the earlier denied pleasure.
       But not yet.
       He could feel the Dark Lord gathering beneath him for release and with a
quick downward motion he pulled out, ignoring the soft pop and Voldemort’s
scream as he exited the tight hot body. Harry was careful to keep his own
frustration from showing as Voldemort struggled, trying futilely to find
release as his lust and desire drove all thought away.
       He was beautiful like that, in an unthinking primeval way, when instinct
was the only thing felt. In the instant of unfulfilled desire he was powerful
and beautiful and Harry could feel his will as he sought that singular goal. It
was a will which would challenge eternity and win. It was a will that had
challenged the wizarding world and had found it lacking and was now hated and
feared but always respected. It was a will that was not afraid to adapt and
change as the situation demanded but it would never compromise.
       Absolute, undeniable and in this instant, Harry grinned, his alone.
       As the Dark Lord hissed at him, threateningly Harry teased him, pushing
the head of his cock back into the hot body. Voldemort growled in unthinking,
animalistic desire but he could do nothing to facilitate his release. Harry
pulled out and pushed in again, going no further but enjoying the rippling grip
of the ring of muscles as he watched blood red eyes loose the glazed
animalistic glow.
       It was replaced with a look of rage.
       Voldemort wanted release and he wanted it now. He had been taunted too
long with its promise. A lesser being would have granted that release and then
begged the Dark Lord for whatever torture he would inflict as punishment. A
more hardy soul would have grated release with the instant of their death to
avoid the sated rage that would follow.
       Harry did nothing but merely look back, his eyes reflecting his own
pleasure at the situation; pleasure that was tinged with his love. He had
already said he would give Voldemort release but he would do so in his own
time, and when he did the Serpent Lord would know that only he had the right to
lay with him. No one else could or would ever be able to please him the way
Harry did. After this day, if the Dark Lord lay with any other, man or woman,
no matter their efforts or his, not matter if he found release of not, he would
only ever feel half complete.
       It was a punishment, a frustration but a passion that would only be felt
by a mated pair.
       “Harry,” Voldemort hissed, the demand obvious.
       Harry continued teasing him, pumping his body without granting anything.
To answer Harry pushed in about half way, loving the way Voldemort’s body
closed in around him.
       It was hard not to appear to be more eager. The Serpent Lord was on the
verge of completion but so was he. And he needed it, needed to be buried in
tight heat, spewing forth his essence with the knowledge that that release,
that position was his alone. Harry grinned as he pulled back.
       Voldemort would kill to keep him safe, he knew that, would kill to
maintain the fact that the Boy-Who-Lived belonged to him and him along, never
realising that such action also confirmed the opposite.
       Harry didn’t like to think of the fate of anyone who propositioned the
Dark Lord although it could be amusing to watch, in a blood thirsty type of
way. He felt his cock twitch and smiled, knowing the Serpent Lord was now too
far off the peak to come when he did. Harry swooped, locking his mouth with
Voldemort’s as he thrust forward one final time, the tightness in his balls
loosening as he poured into his beloved.
       As he came he felt Voldemort clamp around him. It wasn’t the same as if
the Dark Lord was coming with him but it was pleasurable and he loved the
release. In his mind Harry sighed happily, stilling as he enjoyed the glow, the
sweetness of the body he was buried in. This was his right, his pleasure. This
was his mate and as Harry came back to himself he kept his kiss gentle, making
sure his tongue movement was sinuous as he tasted Voldemort, sucking at the
lips.
       When he pulled back Voldemort was breathing hard, his eyes still clouded
with lust.
       “Harry,” he said, hissing. Harry pulled back, pulling his softening cock
out of the still delicious pleasure. He moved one hand down and stroked the
Dark Lord’s cock, pumping it softly as he sat back resting on the Dark Lord’s
thighs.
       Red eyes watched him and Voldemort was gasping softly with each movement
of his hand. Harry was replete and it was time to end the punishment.
       The Dark Lord would know soon enough the pleasure that he was allowed.
       “What do you want?” he asked.
       “Harry,” Voldemort said again, sharp teeth gritted against the assault
of pleasure. He was close and he needed to come but Harry would allow that only
when the Dark Lord asked.
       “Ask,” Harry instructed, moving his other hand down to massage tight
balls.
       “Harry.”
       Harry shook his head. “Ask,” he said again, stilling the movement of his
hand. There was no weakness with asking your mate for pleasure. Voldemort had
to learn that. Harry could feel that the Dark Lord was close, although that
wasn’t hard to guess. He had been on edge for a very long time.
       “Harry,” Voldemort said again, desperately as he strained against the
magically imposed bonds as he sought to find release.
       Harry arched his wings in, brushing the tips against the Dark Lord’s
nipples, resuming his massaging of the hot sack at the base of the penis. The
quivering of the serpentine body beneath him was beautiful but it wasn’t
exactly what he wanted. It was okay, he was patient and with the need the Dark
Lord felt, it wouldn’t take long. Then they would be wound together as he
wished... for now. Then only he would be able to fully pleasure the Dark Lord.
“Ask,” he repeated.
       “Harry, please,” Voldemort finally gasped.
       Harry smiled as he lifted his body, looking down as he moved into
position. With a quick motion he sheathed the Dark Lord within him. Voldemort
hissed at the sudden warmth, revelling in Harry’s rippling muscles, but he
still needed more.
       Harry leant over him, spreading his knees and resting on his elbows as
he kissed Voldemort. As he released the bonds on the Dark Lord long arms snaked
around him, one holding him close while the other gripped lower, holding him in
place. With a savage hiss the Dark Lord thrust upwards, forcefully pulling him
down, all semblance of reason lost with his desire.
       Harry rocked back and forth happily. The pressure was amazing and he
could feel every bulge on his beloved’s engorged cock as it rammed into him. It
felt so good going so deep. This was not submission. This was power. Right at
the moment, the Dark Lord couldn’t stop even if he wanted to, and so Harry was
the only thing he was focused on, and his pleasure was something Harry could
either give or deny. He licked at Voldemort’s skin, wondering why many of the
men had denigrated his position. There was nothing wrong with letting his
beloved take his pleasure in him. It was his power, his love, and although he
loved taking the Dark Lord, it was something they would share. With a
pleasurable grunt he pushed back harder, meeting Voldemort’s thrusts
powerfully, enjoying the slap of balls against his skin.
       Voldemort rammed upwards as hard as he could. Harry had brought him to
the brink too many times and he needed the release it appeared his mate was now
willing to grant. He could feel his balls bouncing with each movement, slapping
on the skin of Harry’s buttocks with each powerful thrust. Being buried in
Harry was something he would never get tired of, and he could feel the sweet
tension that lead to release building again. His precious was moving with, his
muscles working hard gripping and releasing his cock with a pleasurable
friction. It was skilful manipulation of experience and he loved each motion.
It was hot and tight but delicate and free.
       It occurred to him, through the haze of pleasure that Heprah had been
correct. As completely unforgivable as the wizards actions had been, to dare to
touch his mate, to dare to take what was his, the wizard had taste, taking his
pleasure in the only one the Dark Lord would willingly grant pleasure but
Heprah had been right in one other way. Harry was like a virgin... his skill
was not but the pressure of his body wrapped around the pulsing member impaling
him was that of a virgin. And this was their third time. There was enough
stretching so that he could move comfortably but the rippling muscles closed in
around him powerfully, creating a hot, tight, pulsing passage that felt
fresh... as if it hadn’t been fucked before.
       It just made Voldemort want Harry even more and he pulled the pliant
body down to meet him. This was his mate and this sweetness was something only
he would experience. And if he could have fucked Harry forever, he would have
almost been willing to let the rest of the world go... Power was just that...
this was something else entirely.
       There was a soft squelching and Voldemort continued to drive upwards.
The motion was strong, forceful powerful and Harry grunted with the assault.
The two of them cried out in unison with each filling motion the Dark Lord
made. His cock was rock hard and Harry felt as if he was being split in two
with each beautifully filling motion.
       The Dark Lord changed his motion, moving to powerful full length
strokes, burying himself to the hilt with each upward motion. With a final
savage growl Voldemort pulled Harry down to meet him in his release.
       Harry clamped his muscles and arched himself back, driving down to take
the Dark Lord deeper into his body.
       “Mine!” Voldemort snarled, his claws extending as he gripped Harry
harder, breaking the skin as he laid claim to his mate again.
       Harry rippled his muscles as the Serpent Lord poured into him, spilling
his seed in long waves into the hot passage that was his beloved. Three denied
releases meant this was longer and sweeter as he poured into Harry. They seemed
frozen together as pleasure washed around them.
       Harry relaxed his muscles as he swung back down to kiss his beloved. The
motion shifted the cock within him and Harry could feel the flow of cum deep
inside but he didn’t mind and wriggled comfortably on the member still within
him.
       It was a filling pressure that he had been without for so long and while
he didn’t like to think about it, it would be a feeling he was going to be
without for the rest of the year and he needed to savour it as much as possible
now.
       But all good things must end and eventually the Dark Lord moved beneath
him, moving to embrace him properly as he turned them so that they lay side by
side. Someone the Serpent Lord managed to catch one of Harry’s wings to form a
mattress. Harry sighed as Voldemort’s shaft pulled from him. He was going to
miss that feeling, along with pleasure of being buried within his mate.
       -Mine,- Voldemort hissed, reaching to stroke back black hair. The
strands were stuck together with sweat. -Mine,- he murmured again as Harry
snuggled into him, fitting the curves of his body to the Serpent Lords. It was
wonderfully warm and accepting and in the afterglow of his release it was
relaxing and comforting. He could feel his eyelids growing heavy in the
presence of his precious.
       Harry smiled softly as he heard Voldemort’s breathing level out in
sleep. It was to be expected. He had driving both man and serpent to
frustration before allowing them release. It was a release he had enjoyed,
savouring each movement the Dark Lord had made and it was pleasure beyond
words, knowing that only you could drive such a powerful being to distraction
knowing that he was with his mate.
       “Yours,” Harry whispered breathing deep the dry scent of snake and sex.
It was warm, comforting and filling. This was exactly where he wanted to be.
“But you are mine,” Harry murmured as he settled himself comfortably, eyes
closing as he was lulled by the scent of completion and the soft contentment he
could feel from his beloved.
       -Mine.-
===
       Ollivander blinked almost owl like silver eyes in the pre-dawn darkness.
It was nearly complete. Soon Dumbledore would have his Weapon but right at the
moment, the wand maker didn’t care... truth be told, he didn’t really care at
all. The war was not something that concerned him and while he would be
interested in seeing Mr Potter, that would happen in time. Right now, he was
more interested in the man before him.
       Dumbledore, Snape, Lupin and Black had escorted Mr Potter to his shop
for the boy’s Coming of Age Ceremony, and while they could do nothing even if
young Harry was in trouble, he had agreed that they could keep vigil through
the night, just in case... He’d created his shielded work room, and all he
could sense was that there were two beings inside. He could not sense anything
else, so Ollivander didn’t really understand what Dumbledore thought could be
done but it had placated the wizard and so he’d allowed it. They’d taken turns
and right now it was Harry’s Godfather who was sitting across from him, dozing.
       It was that action which was piquing his interest. The others had been
wide awake and tense, the stress of day, and the worries they felt clearly
evident. They had all be worried about the future. Mr Black on the other had
was calm and composed enough that he could sleep even with everything that was
happening. That was fascinating in and of itself. Of all of them, the wand
maker had expected Harry’s guardian to be the most concerned, especially when
the completion of the Ceremony would see the expectation that his Godchild
would now enter the war. Yet the man was composed enough to simply nod at
Ollivander when he had relieved Remus before he’d settled, stretching his legs
out and fidgeting for a few moments until he was comfortable, then dozing off.
       He was sure of the future.
       Silver eyes narrowed carefully examining the canine animagus as the wand
maker considered the aura of the man... He was sure of the future and his faith
was absolute. That was why he could sleep.
       There was a flicker, just for an instant, of pitch darkness in the thin
light and Ollivander shook his head, blinking quickly as he suddenly
understood. That explained why Mr Black could sleep while the others had been
distracted.
       Dumbledore had been tense although the feeling had been well concealed
by the ancient wizard. The Hogwarts Headmaster though had been expecting an
attack and Ollivander had been somewhat amused. The Dark Lord was involved but
it appeared that Dumbledore still had things to learn about his former student.
Mr Riddle had rarely been so obvious as to do the expected.
       Lupin had been preoccupied, his features marred by a frown for his
entire watch. He had been as polite as always, chatting briefly with the wand
maker but his mind had been elsewhere. The silver eyed man hadn’t heard about
anything happening within the werewolf community but then his sources weren’t
going to be as up to date as a werewolf themselves... there could be
something... there probably was something... Both the Dark Lord and the
Ministry were probably already vying for support but such a thing had happened
in the past... Lupin seemed too concerned for it to be that alone. Whatever
happened, the wand maker knew he would hear about it in time.
       Snape had been worried, and the expression had been so out of place on
the Potion Master that Ollivander almost hadn’t recognised it. The man had
always seemed collected every other time their paths had crossed although the
wand maker hadn’t missed the man’s small start of surprise when they had
accompanied Harry. It didn’t take much to realise at least some of what the
problem was. The Dark Lord or the Order... eventually he would have to choose,
add into the mix the Shadows and something had to give.
       Ollivander sighed, thinking back. He didn’t like giving advice and in
the end he wasn’t sure if the Potion Master had listened but the simple
reassurance that everyone had their task had seemed to bolster Snape...
Although Ollivander knew that nothing would truly calm the man until everything
was over, until he had decided one way or another which was the path he would
follow and for that he suspected that there was only going to be one way that
lead to survival. The interest of the Shadows was potent and when they wanted
something, they were relentless.
       There were worse fates... No doubt Snape was aware of that as well...
       “Severus?” Sirius asked, cracking open one eye as the wand maker’s soft
sigh broke him out of his doze.
       “Huh?”
       “Thinking about Snivilus?”
       “How did you know?”
       “He seems to be the topic of choice to avoid the obvious,” Sirius said
as he sat up, vaguely gesturing towards the back of Ollivander’s store.
       “Ah... You must admit, his is an interesting quandary.”
       “Humph!” The canine animagus snorted derisively. “Interesting or not, he
is running out of time, and he is endangering everything. Neither Dumbledore or
the Dark Lord will show compassion.”
       “True,” Ollivander agreed not really concerned. He really shouldn’t have
expected any other response from Mr Black. He did after all know what the man’s
feelings were towards the Potion Master and had known since almost before their
Hogwart’s days. The Marauders versus Snape was the stuff of wizarding legend...
well, Hogwart’s Legend. “I’ve been expecting you to visit me,” he said,
shifting to a new topic. “With the announcement of your wrongful imprisonment
and Ministerial Pardon, I was expecting you to see me for a new wand.”
       “Ah,” it was Sirius’ turn to use that nonchalant syllable. “My wand
wasn’t destroyed,” he explained. “Remus kept it safe for me, or, no doubt, you
would have seen me earlier.”
       “So that’s what happened,” Ollivander smiled. There had been some slight
scandal around the time of Mr Black’s imprisonment over the fact that no one
could find his wand, but that had been lost in the greater celebration of the
Voldemort’s demise. After all, with the Dark Lord dead, and his right hand man
imprisoned, what did it matter that his wand had not been found?
       The werewolf had had it the entire time. An impressive feat that, given
the rules that governed werewolves, and the problems Lupin would have faced
throughout his life just keeping his own wand safe, let alone another’s. “It
must be a comfort to have such loyal friends.”
       “It is,” Sirius smiled, the expression truly happy. “It is.”
       Or something more than friends, Ollivander added to himself silently
unsure of why he wished to keep the knowledge to himself.
       Sirius rose, dusting off his pants. “Will Harry be much longer?” He
asked.
       The wand maker looked outside. The thin dawn light had brightened
considerably and there were some goblins and wizards beginning to go about
their business but it was still very early. “A few more hours yet, I think.”
       “Good,” Sirius said with another smile, different this time, expectant.
“That’ll give me enough time to go collect a few things.”
       “You’re not going to wait?”
       The animagus shrugged. “I’ll be back before Harry’s ready. Besides,
they’ll tell me if there is anything wrong.”
       Ollivander’s eyes narrowed at the statement but he nodded affably,
flicking a finger to unlock the door as Sirius approached it. It was unusual
for anyone so deeply involved with the shadows to admit it so openly. As the
man drew his hood and walked out into the street he looked back at the dark
corner where a shadow was residing. “You’d tell him?” He couldn’t help but
question.
       :We’d tell him although right at the moment, as you already know, no
matter what happened, there is nothing he could do.:
       “Ah.” Ollivander let the matter drop delicately as he stepped back
towards the counter, trusting his sign to flip itself over on this new business
day. From what he could sense from his shielded room, Mr Potter wouldn’t be
awake for a little while yet.
===
       Snape stared at the fire as he tried to control his shivering. He still
remembered Ollivander’s deceptively simple words that everyone had their
task... Far from comforting him, the words had just brought back memories of
his last visit to the Dark Lord. It had been, from his point of view, an
unmitigated disaster. The only way it could have been worse was if the Serpent
Lord had tried to kill him... In many ways that would have been easier because
the choice of side would have been made for him.
       Right now, he was still in limbo. And with the shadows seeming to haunt
his every move, the choice was not getting any easier. He supposed he should
have expected to see a shadow in the wand makers shop. The man was so
quintessential to wizarding life that there was no way they wouldn’t be
watching him. One way or another, with very few exceptions everyone went to
Ollivander. Maybe not for years, but the shadows were patient, they could wait
years to gather their information...
       But right at the moment, they were moving, just as Voldemort was no
doubt preparing to, just as he knew Dumbledore would give the order to as soon
as Harry was judged capable. And once all three began to move, it would be
chaos.
       He knew what Dumbledore had said, and he had studied the ancient texts
on his own. He knew that Harry should be able to control the shadows, but the
Potion Master knew that they were more than capable of acting like they were
being controlled, when all the time they were playing another game. Or... it
had been so long since they had had a Master, it was possible they had become
fragmented.
       Whichever it was, it didn’t help him because there was no way Potter
would order them away from him... and that didn’t even get close to how he
would raise the question with the boy. Even if he did manage to somehow tell
Potter of his predicament, the cursed child would no doubt be amused, or the
shadows would be whispering in his ear, something else to make everything seem
reasonable. No, this was something he had to deal with himself.
       Give in!
       There was a whisper in his soul. It was the whisper that had lead him as
an arrogant youth into the embrace of the dark. It was calling to him now,
enticing him. The song that was Fawkes was combating it, and he knew better
now. The Dark Lord was not the solution and could never be, no matter what he
promised, no matter what he seemed to be saying. There was an inherent flaw in
his being. It was well hidden but it was still there. Most called it charisma,
but Snape called it hunger. There was something within the man who had once
been Tom Riddle that wasn’t right. It was a hunger, something that consumed
everything. It was a hunger for destruction, for something that was always out
of reach, and it was something that all who followed the Dark Lord possessed.
No matter how hard the strove, how much they possessed, or destroyed, how much
power they gained it would never be enough. Their hunger, their desire never
let them see enough... all they saw and all they wanted was more.
       The Potion Master started as there was a knock from the corridor. He
wasn’t expecting guests, especially not at this hour. But it seemed some things
couldn’t be avoided when the knock was repeated. They knew who they wanted to
speak to.
       “Come,” Severus called, bracing himself carefully. He didn’t expect
trouble within Hogwarts but he hadn’t survived as long as he had without being
cautious.
       Severus frowned when he saw who was in his doorway and looked away. This
was the last thing he needed now and he really didn’t feel like talking to that
being. His reaction though, wasn’t lost on the vampire but they simply chuckled
and stepped across the threshold.
       “I’m sorry,” Xeoaph said without a trace of guilt or remorse. “When I
told Dumbledore about Ferous Base I didn’t consider how it would affect his
resident spy. I hope the Dark Lord wasn’t too harsh on you?”
       Snape decided not to answer, keeping his eyes trained on the vampire
elder as the undead man gracefully sat down. Surreptitiously he shifted a
potion vial in his sleeve but he knew that if Xeoaph attacked, there wasn’t
much he could do. He was a powerful wizard, but the vampire had centuries of
experience. He wasn’t really concerned about that. The vampire hadn’t come for
that reason and within Hogwarts he’d be stupid to try and he probably already
knew that.
       “It’s been an interesting few days, hasn’t it?” Xeoaph said
conversationally as his eyes flicked over the room.
       “There are no listening devices,” the Potion Master snapped. “Nor
recorders.”
       The vampire smiled easily. For a being who was supposed to be over one
thousand years old he was remarkably free with his expressions. “You can never
be too careful,” he said unconcerned at Severus’ tone.
       “What do you want?”
       “I thought the better question would be what do you want?” Xeoaph
shrugged. “But I know you aren’t going to answer that... so, in the interests
of continuing a conversation, what do I want? I want to talk. I am interested
in your views on one Harry Potter.” The vampires eyes seemed to glow and one
fang caught on his lip.
       Snape started but managed to keep his expression under control as he
examined the vampire with new interest.
       “You are one of the few who aren’t enamoured of his light and I wanted
the opinion of a wizard who can see clearly.”
       Severus was silent for a long time, just watching Xeoaph. This could be
a trap, this could be a ruse, this could be any number of things but the
vampire simply sat quietly watching him in return with an almost gentle
expression that showed his genuine interest. For some reason, the vampire elder
really did want or need this information. But Snape wasn’t sure what to say. He
couldn’t reveal his suspicious and he couldn’t blindly parrot what everyone
believed to be the truth.
       Although...
       This could be the opportunity he was looking for. If he could convince
the vampire to raise at least some doubt about Potter in Dumbledore’s mind then
perhaps he could raise his suspicious and they could finally question that
arrogant child on what had happened to him properly. The lack of comment from
Potter about certain events did not sit well with the Potion Master but he was
not in a position to question that. He needed someone else, someone Dumbledore
had to listen too, to raise the initial concern.
       Why was he asking this, though? Did he already suspect that something
was wrong? Or was the vampire just playing some game or seeking some way to
avenge his childe? Harry had apologised at Dumbledore’s insistence about that
but Xeoaph had waved it off, saying that the loss of his childe was troubling
but that he had warned Ikhan that it was dangerous and it had seemed like all
had been forgiven. But a vampire did not lose a childe that old easily... Snape
knew that, Dumbledore knew that but... it seemed everyone had been taking the
elders word that it was forgiven.
       Perhaps until now.
       A slow, almost mocking half smile appeared on Snape’s face as he
realised he had little choice. In the game he played... there were Master’s on
the field and even he was played. He’d known that but he’d always hoped he
could play his own game. Not this time though, not with Potter it seemed. There
were too many interested parties for him to play alone.
       “Clearly?” Severus snorted the question. “That is the problem with
Potter. Nothing is clear.” Xeoaph’s eyes narrowed slightly but he said nothing
and simply waited for Snape to continue.
       “He is powerful, I will grant. And to fight the Dark Lord such power is
necessary but... there are too many things that have been left unknown, too
many things he needs to be questioned on. The Dark Lord is too sure of himself
and such is always worrying. He has had decades to plan, he has also had Potter
within his grasp. I don’t trust the boy’s word that nothing happened. We know
the Dark Lord would not have left his enemy untouched and no one has grilled
him on that.”
       “It is wishful thinking to believe that the Dark Lord would not have
left something to control Potter’s power?” Xeoaph prompted.
       “Exactly. Anyone else that is relied on that much would have been
questioned intensely, linked to the Order or not we would not be trusting their
word so easily. Fawkes is not infallible.”
       “You are the proof of that?” The vampire asked slyly.
       Snape snapped his jaw closed. “No... not that, but Fawkes too can be
blinded by light. Hope is not eternal.”
       Xeoaph sat silently for a time, lacing white fingers together as he
thought about what the Potion Master had said but also what he had not said.
Even with the admissions, the man had been guarded. “There is much that I do
not understand about Potter,” he said finally. “I had thought that was simply
my lack of knowledge of wizards as I have not associated closely with your kind
for centuries but it appears that it is more.
       “We vampires remember the last Shadow Master and we know things were
very different then. The Shadows have not changed and they are not something
that can be controlled by a human. All creatures of the Dark know this but you
creatures of the light never seem to understand that. They cannot be controlled
by the power you can wield. The Last Shadow Master... He, he understood. But
not everyone understood that. We didn’t until it was too late.”
       Xeoaph shook his head. “That is not the point. We are... we have own
concerns about Potter. It is good to see that we are not the only ones to
suspect. He is too powerful and he is a child. We will see through his act
eventually. I know that to defeat the Dark Lord he will be needed but there is
needed and needed.”
       The ancient vampire rose. “Thank you for your candour, Potion Master. I
will speak with you again later when there is more to discuss.” With a regal
nod Xeoaph walked to the door and let himself out.
       Snape just stared for a few moments before shuddering and gathering
himself. Even though the conversation with Ollivander hadn’t helped, he felt
better now, a little. There was something comforting knowing that he wasn’t the
only one with suspicions.
       “You cannot hide from us all, Potter and one day, you will slip and I
will be waiting,” he murmured before looking out the window. Thin dawn light
stained the sky and he rose. He needed to sleep before Potter returned. He
would need his wits about him.
 
 
***** Diagon Alley *****
Weapon
Chapter 13 Diagon Alley
===
       Narcissa awoke with a start, breathing hard. She gasped and laid one
hand on her chest to try to calm her shuddering heart. She could remember her
dream clearly and it worried her. A glass of water appeared beside her and she
drank gently and the water soothed her nerves somewhat.
       She had been awoken by a nightmare and looked out at the thin light. The
manor felt wrong without her husband but she had to continue. Draco needed her
so she had to continue. Her dream though, her dream was disturbing.
       It had begun well. She had been watching as Draco had gathered the
support of those who had stood with his Father against the Dark Lord. She had
watched, happily as some of the Dark Lord’s followers had turned against him,
swearing their allegiance to her son. She knew that not all of the followers
would come to her son’s call but even some would be enough. She had caught the
impression of wings and knew that it was their tenshi heritage that meant this
could be.
       There had been a worrying bit then, a shift in the ranks as their forces
had considered what to do. Many had wanted to attack the Light, to show the
Dark Lord their strength but do to that they would need the support of those
who were forced to the loyalty of the Dark Lord and so the battle against the
Light would have to wait until the Serpent had been destroyed. In the end all
acceded to their wishes and the impression of wings had been pleased. It was
only those with their power, their heritage who should rule, only those who had
the right to decide these things.
       Gathering themselves they had gone to challenge the Dark Lord
       The battle had been long and fierce. She didn’t mind that. The serpent
wasn’t going down without a fight but near the end, when Draco, as was his
right was challenging the Serpent Lord, she had once more caught the sense of
wings and had smiled. All was how it should be...
       Until...
       Narcissa gasped aloud at the memory.
       Draco had the Dark Lord cornered! Her son! Against his might he had the
Serpent Lord cornered as his human power could not stand against the might of
their tenshi heritage and Draco was destined to rule. His power was such that
it had to rule. The Serpent had been frustrated but every move that he had made
was anticipated and Narcissa had felt a sense of building pride at her Son’s
actions. She had trained him well.
       But then the Serpent had laughed, although rage had flashed through his
eyes as their shouted conversation had continued, he was composed enough to
harness his power... and such power.
       It was then that she had felt a stab of uncertainty. Such power was not
that of a Serpent... The Serpent Lord had gathered himself, and the darkness
had moved around him, the shadows had supported him. She knew them though, and
knew how to fight them but the searing light that Draco had created had not
dispersed them and they continued to gather around the Serpent, caressing him,
supporting him, obeying him...
       She had stepped forward then because she had had no choice. Her son had
fought well but he was still a child and against that power... She had matched
the Serpent Lord, blow for blow they had fought and she knew this was how her
husband had felt, how her husband had fought but the outcome was destined to be
different this time because as much as she loved Lucius, it was the son he had
gifted her with that was her life.
       Each time she had thought she won though the Serpent Lord laughed and
matched her power. She had pulled on Draco’s ability then, and all their
followers, pulling all the power she could access to attack the hated one.
       The blow was incredible. It was almost a pure magic storm. When it
passed she had expected to see nothing but charred bones and torn fabric.
       He laughed!
       He laughed at her, not a single fold of fabric on his robes out of
place.
       She hated the laugh the most and it was in hating that she almost didn’t
notice the pure black wings that were unfurled above him.
       Tenshi.
       The realisation had taken a moment to sink in and as the Serpent Lord
raised his hand, pure power collecting there she could only stare, transfixed
by the beauty of the wings. She couldn’t see their owner. She didn’t need to.
It was a pure blood. It was a pure blood with pure intentions to have wings of
that colour.
       She couldn’t fight that...
       And then the power the Serpent Lord gathered had struck and she had
awoken.
       A tenshi...
       Did her dream mean that the Serpent Lord was backed by a tenshi... that
couldn’t be the case though. Full blooded tenshi did not interfere with humans.
Not like this... Or did it mean that he had the power to match a tenshi? With
the fact that she couldn’t identify the tenshi that was also a possibility.
       She had always known that the entire battle would come down to who held
the most sheer raw power but she had never thought that the Serpent Lord might.
It wasn’t possible for him, so many generations removed from a tenshi to match
that power. It shouldn’t be possible, when she and Draco could trace their
generations on one hand. Their power should so far eclipse a mere mortals that
the possibility that he should be able to match them was non-existent...
       Or did it mean that he had the skill and experience to match up with the
power?
       That was also a possibility. Power was one thing but skill was a lot.
Draco had... or would have power but he had yet to acquire the skill and the
experience that the Serpent Lord had. She would admit that. She’d be a fool if
she thought otherwise. Sometimes could only come through time and the Serpent
Lord had lived far longer than his due. He had had that time.
       Yes... that had to be it.
       No pure blood tenshi would interfere so the wings behind him were only
metaphorical.
       There was no way he could hold the power to match her when she
manifested her birth right fully but truly his power would seem that way to a
normal wizard.
       It had to be that he had the skill and experience and that even with all
the power she could call, she had to be wary because wasting that power would
mean she and her son would fail. Even with power, they had to tread carefully.
       Narcissa took another sip of water before rising and moving to the
window. The thin dawn light that had greeted her earlier was now brighter and
she could see that the day was going to be clear. She knew though, now what had
to be done. Draco’s training would have to begin in earnest.
===
       Ginny looked up into the wane dawn light. She was exhausted but she
couldn’t sleep, not yet, not until she knew everything was okay. She couldn’t
feel him, not even an echo and that worried her. While Harry had severed the
bond, leaving it as she had requested, she had always been able to feel an echo
from him and it had comforted her, knowing that she wasn’t completely alone,
knowing she could help him if needed.
       She couldn’t feel him now though. She couldn’t feel anything.
       Coming from a wizarding family she knew what was involved with the
Coming of Age Ceremony and she knew how complex some families made it. Weasley
family tradition was relaxed about the Ceremony although there were
considerations made for the power of the individual. This was one of those
things that just had to be done properly and so even though most of them didn’t
like it, they had spent the appropriate time in the garage, with their father’s
muggle possessions since it was the strongest warded section of the house. Or
if at Hogwarts, they made the appropriate arrangements there. It was usually
taken care of so quietly that most weren’t even aware of it.
       She didn’t think the Potter Family made that much of the Ceremony but
she wasn’t sure since the records were very personal. With Harry’s power
though, and the fact that she couldn’t sense him, she supposed Dumbledore had
placed him in seclusion for the night.
       It wasn’t fair!
       It just wasn’t fair. She only wanted to help him. She only wanted what
was best for him, so why couldn’t she help him? She would sacrifice whatever it
took, she would keep any secret just so long as she could stay with him, just
so long as he would love her, just a little bit. She had loved him for as long
as she could remember and it hurt. The fact that he had willingly gone to
another was a dull pain inside her always and as much as she struggled against
it, she wasn’t sure she could win. She accepted him as he was, why wouldn’t he
accept her?
       Ginny curled up on her bed, tears forming in her eyes.
       It wasn’t fair, it just wasn’t fair! She hurt so much, she loved so
much. She only wanted what was best for him. She remain with him for all time,
so why couldn’t he love her now, why had he bade her wait?
       The Dark Lord had nothing.
       The Dark Lord had everything.
       Ginny gulped as her thoughts spiralled. The Dark Lord had nothing,
deserved no respect, no regard from Harry but he had it, and so the Dark lord
had everything. Wealth, power, love. Everything.
       She looked back out the window, concentrating on the lightening sky. It
would be a fine day, and Harry would properly celebrate his birthday today.
With a bit of luck Dumbledore would bring him over so that they could celebrate
properly since the Headmaster knew that her mother considered Harry a part of
the Weasley family. He was just another son to her, another beloved child. That
didn’t bother Ginny, she didn’t mind that. Harry was to her so much more than a
brother.
       But he was the Dark Lord’s.
       Or the Dark Lord was his.
       Whichever way their relationship worked.
       She was only there because Harry let her be there and she was no where.
She knew that. She didn’t want to think it though but Voldemort had everything
she could not give him - wealth and power. Love was something Harry knew she
was more than happy to give. No, she had to match the Dark Lord, somehow she
had to match him in some way so that Harry would view her as an equal, so that
the Dark Lord would know he wasn’t the only one who held the Boy-Who-Lived’s
heart.
       Love... She was sure she already matched him there. She knew Harry, she
knew what he liked and what he didn’t like. She was prepared to sacrifice the
world for him, her world for him. She had risked it all, and she was continuing
to risk it all. She kept his secret, she kept everything safe and she would die
without hesitation for him. He knew that, she knew that. There was nothing more
she could do to express her affection and following him around like a puppy at
school was not likely to help the situation or she would have done that from
her first year.
       Wealth... Ginny snorted to herself. She couldn’t see any way she would
ever be able to match the Serpent Lord’s wealth. He could draw upon his
followers when he chose and wealth wasn’t something that truly interested Harry
anyway. His inheritance ensured that. Even if she somehow managed to go into
partnership with the Twins, and then if their ventures bore fruit, she wouldn’t
be able to match him. In terms of money, there was nothing she could do. It was
a blow but it was one she had conceded long ago.
       Children... Ha! He had no need of them and if he did, she would give
them to him when he asked. She would do that willingly, gladly for the regard
but she wanted more than mere regard. Ginny knew her parents were happily
married but she knew that many wizarding and muggle families were not so happy.
Children were not a reason for people to remain together. Children were not a
reason for people to come together. Children would only be a fringe benefit of
her sex, nothing more, nothing less and they may not even be necessary.
Immortality was the Dark Lord’s goal and Ginny doubted that he hadn’t shared
that gift with his mate. There were those who would argue that, but she was
sure that Voldemort had attained it. Somehow she knew.
       So that left power... Ginny shivered. That was possibly an even more
impossible dream than wealth. The Weasley’s were known to be an average
wizarding line that had held true to the Light. They were diligent workers,
caring, honest and open. They were not known for their power or any special
ability. They were known for their shocking red hair and in this generation for
the fact that there were lots of them. She smiled a bit at that before she
turned serious again. They had no talismans or techniques, no special family
spells and all they had was a vague affinity with animals but even that was
hard to see. Charlie had that the most of all of them, although Bill perhaps
had an affinity with insects. It was hard to tell. But how was that power?
       It wasn’t, plain and simple, it wasn’t.
       Short of completely transforming herself as Voldemort had with his
rebirth, she would never match his power and she couldn’t reform herself
because she wouldn’t even know where to begin. That wasn’t an option... which
left her with what..?
       Nothing.
       Nothing more than what Harry was prepared to give, and nothing more than
he had already given her, unless he was hiding something and she didn’t think
he was.
       But he had said he could come to love her. He could come to love her and
she could come to love him without misconceptions between them. But could he
love her when he loved the Dark Lord, would he even come to see her at all? Or
was that just said to sooth her feelings? He thought too much of others, she
knew that, had he thought of her and done that...
       No... he had kept the bond, or at least part of it. If he truly felt
nothing for her, he would have broken it completely since she knew he wouldn’t
want anyone dying for him, not even her. So he felt something... something...
       Something that could grow.
       Something that they could develop together this year.
       There was after all, one thing upon which the Serpent Lord could not
hope to match her in. Age. While it was no doubt enjoyable to have an older
lover, there were times when she knew Harry would need the company of one his
own age. Voldemort could not hope to provide that. And so there was something
Harry and she could grow together, a commonness between them that they could
share. It wasn’t much but it would provide a point Harry could turn to her on
and she would be there, waiting for him when the time came, just as she would
be there, all semester, all through the future, supporting him.
       They’d spend more time together this semester, they had to, then he
would see how much he loved her, and how much she loved him.
       “Love him Harry, but love me as well,” Ginny murmured looking out at the
sun as she got up, reaching out to pick up her hair brush. She had to be
presentable before she went to breakfast. “I will always be there for you
Harry, he can’t promise you that, I can. I can’t offer you power, I can’t offer
you wealth, I can only offer myself... but you already know that, don’t you?”
       Ginny smiled, blue eyes happier. Harry knew that. Harry had always known
that. And they would work on that together, starting today, when she saw him
for his proper birthday celebration.
       They would work on that together.
===
       Harry blinked sleepily not quite awake but not aware enough to care even
though he could hear a conversation going on around him. He was used to that
though, used to waking up to the sound of people talking but he wasn’t used to
that conversation being in parselmouth... even so he couldn’t bring himself to
raise his attention. He was warm, and comfortable, and there was a feeling of
satisfaction coursing through his body. He didn’t need to be awake. As he
dreamily closed his eyes, trying to name, the conversation continued around him
and he allowed himself to be lulled by it.
       -You appear well, little one.-
       -As do you, Sire.-
       -This human’s mind is similar to mine, so it was an easy adjustment. We
get along well.-
       -He is... He is different, Sire. I don’t think I will ever be a Serpent
Lord.-
       -Ss, ss, ss...- There was the sound of reptilian laughter.
       -Sire?-
       -I know and I do not expect you to be. We recognise other positions of
power. Besides, I am the Serpent Lord and there is no need for two.-
       Xaos nodded, eyes closing briefly as he acknowledged the point but the
quiver in his crest betrayed that he was still not at ease.
       -Just continue as you have been Little One. You will do well. Your host
will not be acknowledged as a Serpent Lord but shall through my host be known
as a Serpent’s Mate and through you as a Serpent King. There is no shame in
that. He has his own power to follow.-
       -And he is awake,- the timbre of the voice altered slightly and even
through sleep Harry knew it was the human who had spoken. It reminded him of
something and as he awoke completely he glared into red eyes.
       “You bit me!”
       Voldemort laughed softly. “Yes I did but you don’t appear too badly off
and it is a part of the ritual.”
       Something in Harry shifted and he felt the piece of Fawkes move
restlessly. It thought he was still asleep but he was going to have to let out
the illusion of himself soon, least Fawkes notice the trap and all be lost.
When he left this room he would return to being he they expected and already
the loss of freedom was clamping down upon him.
       “A ritual you cannot complete yet,” Harry retorted with perhaps slightly
more force than he meant but the impeding entrapment did not encourage him to
be subtle. The ritual was one of basilisks bonding. It was the marking of
mutual ownership and it ensured that both were immune to the other’s eyes and
venom in all situations. The link between them was already complete, this would
just enhance it.
       For an instant it seemed like the combination of Dark Lord and Serpent
would strike and show Harry just how much the ritual couldn’t be completed but
then logic clouded lust and the Dark Lord seemed as annoyed as Harry about the
situation. “I know, but separation is not sweet sorrow and it is not something
I enjoy. You are mine Little One, and I want the world to know that.”
       “I want the world to know that as well,” Harry murmured soothingly,
shifting himself against the older man. “And the waiting is not easy on me too.
I want them to see the truth, I want them to know but I want us to be able to
enjoy that knowledge, not fight against their denial for years and so this is
the way it must be.”
       “Xatarass always says we humans complicate things and that I should just
bite Dumbledore and be done with it... But that would not end it.”
       “If it would, I would have bitten him already,” Harry said. “But you
want absolute victory not the temporary peace of shock. And we will have that,
in time.”
       “Sooner than you realise I think, if you can tap into your full
potential, my Little One.”
       “Hmm?”
       “Your animagus form, do you not feel the power?”
       Harry looked at himself. He could remember something pulling him apart
and power begging for his attention but he didn’t remember much after that
until he had awoken to find his beloved coupling with him. A pleasurable state
but one he hadn’t been able to reciprocate until later. His hands didn’t appear
much different until he noted that his nails were thicker and longer... They
were no longer nails but claws and for some reason he could see a lot more
detail on the skin... bumps and ridges and curves which hadn’t been there
before and they pulsed with an energy that flickered slightly, waves of it
rising off him. With the sudden consciousness of his body he felt pulled back,
as if his centre of gravity had changed and Harry shifted and was surprised to
hear the rustle of feathers. He concentrated on his shoulder blades and felt
something move, cutting through the air freely and feeling light.
       “Wha... What am I?”
       The Dark Lord smiled. “You are very beautiful,” he said softly, kissing
Harry’s forehead before he answered the question Harry really wanted. “You are
a tenshi.”
       “A tenshi?” The black haired boy was still surprised. Thanks to the
knowledge of his beloved he knew something about tenshi’s but the amount of
information didn’t seem to be enough. Perhaps he had finally found something
that hadn’t been transferred to him.
       “I don’t know much about them, no one does,” Voldemort said. “By your
very being, you will know more about them and I think your little shadows know
more.”
       :Of course we do,: came the unconcerned whisper, :but at the moment,
there are other things that are more important.:
       “Such as?”
       :Such as the time.:
       Harry tilted his head. “What time is it?” He asked. He had to stay in
this room until morning but he didn’t know how long he’d slept. Even so, the
last thing he wanted was for Dumbledore to come looking for him. Being wrapped
in the Dark Lord’s arms was not an image he wanted the Headmaster to think
about for a while, even if it was warm and comfortable and he felt loved and
accepted, even if it was where he wanted to stay. Not yet. He couldn’t be
seduced by it yet.
       “It is unfortunately time my precious that you were gone. Coming of Age
Ceremonies, even for the powerful, do not last this long into the next day but
they will assume you were sleeping.” Voldemort said the last as he rose, a long
fingered hand reaching out to pick up his wand before he flicked it through a
lazy shape, transfiguring fresh robes for them both from the shreds of fabric
that was all that remained of their others.
       Harry sat for a while longer, feeling his wings arch over his head
before the ends splayed on the ground behind him. They felt comfortable. His
new form felt right, somehow but he couldn’t just get dressed and go to greet
Dumbledore because not even that ancient wizard could fail to detect the scent
of last night’s activities.
       The Hogwarts Headmaster would rightly assume that his partner had been
the Dark Lord but would the wrongly believe that it was yet another
demonstration of the Serpent Lord’s power and would act with his full power.
Voldemort would fight him, and no matter what happened, Voldemort would not be
hurt, but Harry might reveal those things they weren’t ready for. No... he had
to be clean when he left here but that could be a problem... There were
cleaning and bathing charms but none really hid the smell of sex...
       “I can’t...” he said quietly. “They’ll smell it.”
       “Smell what, Little One?” Voldemort asked as he turned, tongue
flickering to sample the air before a slow satisfied smile formed on his
features as he realised what his mate was talking about. “Oh...” He was amused
but at the same time he shared Harry’s concern.
       :It is nothing,: the shadow’s interjected. :Master, complete your
transformation, then change back into human, and there will be no problem.:
       “Complete? You mean that is not everything?” The Serpent Lord seemed
incredulous.
       :Of course it’s not everything,: the shadows said tersely. :That’s a
halflings form.:
       The Serpent Lord’s eyes opened wide and he looked back at his mate,
reassessing what he could see. Power... Power almost without end was what he
could see and that was the form of a halfling..?
       :Pure bloods are pure magic,: the shadows began explaining. :They have
no corporal form unless they will it and they can only be defeated by the
application of more power. The form you are in now, Master is that of a
Halfling because you are still holding on to your human self. That why it feels
so comfortable but it is something you must let go of. Master, you will always
be who you are. The shape in not important to us, Master, only your power is.:
       The Dark Lord looked at his mate softly. Still... Harry might understand
but he still needed to know such things. “Your shape is appealing to me, Little
One,” he said, adding his words of reassurance to the Shadows’. “But of more
importance is your ability. I have always said that. You are beautiful to me,
not because of your impressively beautiful physical form but for the power you
wield my precious and you are mine, no matter what form you take. You are more
than human to me, so do not let that limitation hold you back.”
       Harry looked confused for a moment before he realised, he had already
completed the most difficult part of the animagus transformation. He had been
afraid of the initial loss of his humanity but with his current shape, he
couldn’t be called human. In mind he was human, in soul he was human but in
shape he was not, so there was nothing left for him to fear. “How?” He asked.
       :Just follow our lead,: the Shadow’s said. :This time, we can show you
how it’s done.: They added, streaming around him, snuggling close.
       They began seeping inside and Harry smiled as they tickled him. :See
here, Master, feel here,: they gave the instructions, twisting slightly,
pulling to indicate where he should change first. He closed emerald eyes,
focusing on what they were showing him, letting the feeling coming from his
body guide him. It was almost an unconscious process, where it should have been
one driven by knowledge and while he did feel the information there, Harry
couldn’t bring himself to apply it. This was something that felt much more
comfortable, much more natural if he did it this way. There was a moment when
his whole body tingled, pulsing with pins and needles and then, the feeling
drained out of him, pouring out through his finger tips and toes.
       Once it had past he felt light. The previous form had felt light but
this felt, this almost felt like he wasn’t there but it was a warm feeling and
Harry braced himself as he opened his eyes again.
       Nothing was like it should be. He’d seen this before though, when he
changed his eyes to see magic. There were swirls and streams of power
everywhere. The Dark Lord looked like a serpent that was a flame with power and
his aura pulsed around him powerfully. The shielding of the room was interlaced
and perfect, layered slightly for maximum strength but outside it Harry could
see the magic of the world. He could see Ollivander, a bright humanoid shape
that had a fuzzy back... The wand maker was too powerful to be true but then
Harry knew there had to be a reason everyone deferred to him beyond his
neutrality. His power though... no... it wasn’t that a of Wizard, Harry
concluded, as he looked around further. With Ollivander there were three other
beings.
       Dumbledore he recognised after a moment. The Headmasters aura was
controlled, and his power seemed to almost flow through him like blood, each
pulse controlled and uniform. The paths within him were well defined. One of
the others was shadowed, the true extent of their power masked and their whole
being seemed fuzzy. Harry smiled as he recognised the effects of the shadows.
That had to be Sirius because his servants wouldn’t do that for anyone else,
not yet. The last one though was curious. His power seemed to be pulled in two
directions. One was the normal humanoid form for a wizard, power moving up and
down his arms and legs as it streamed through him. The other was more
scattered. Not more powerful, but more scattered as if it didn’t know what to
do and wasn’t quite sure how to handle the power it had. That other form was
shorter that a human but was not diminished by that. Harry squinted, looking
further... Remus, he eventually decided, trying to focus firmly on the second
lot of power and catching, just slightly the sense of wrongness about it. Yes,
that was the power signature of a werewolf, and Lupin was the only one who
would be here waiting for him.
       Beyond them all there were more sparks of power and the Boy-Who-Lived
determined that they were morning shoppers in Diagon Alley. It was time to
leave.
       “It’s time,” He said as he looked back at his mate, ignoring the way
that when he moved his power seemed to rustle around him. It was unconscious
movement but Harry knew he could control it with a thought if he desired. He
was surprised though, when he was forced to look down to see his mate and
belatedly he realised he was hovering. “I... what?” He asked, dropping to the
floor and looking back at himself properly.
       His form appeared solid but that was only because the power flows were
so tightly packed within him. He tried focusing further but was dizzy with the
number of combinations he could see and the way that everything spiralled
around each other. It almost hurt to look and he turned away. There were some
things you weren’t meant to know all at once.
       “My Little One,” Voldemort said, and the smile was evident in his voice,
a gloating, joyful smile, one that betrayed almost an eternity of pleasure.
“You had better not forget who owns you, least I destroy the world. They called
me a seducer, but I could only seduce the individual. You, my little Basilisk,
you could seduce the world with a glance, and right at the moment, I find it
difficult to care that the old man is waiting.” A long fingered hand reached
out, and gently traced along the curve of Harry’s face. It didn’t touch him but
Harry felt the Dark Lord’s power tickling along his own and so it felt like he
was touched. He could hear though a litany, a soft hiss within his mind and
knew it was the underlying emotion that his mate felt. Mine, mine, mine, so
beautiful, mine, mine, mine... “You are mine,” the Serpent Lord articulated his
desire, “And I will prove that to you and the world as many times as it takes
until there is no doubt and no one dares to think that they may even look upon
you without my permission.” The shadows purred in Harry’s mind and he got the
impression that not everything would be as Voldemort desired but he couldn’t
bring himself to correct his beloved. There were some things that always
changed from what you wanted. The Dark Lord knew that and so didn’t need to be
reminded of it.
       “What do I smell like?” Harry asked, ignoring the ownership debate.
       A serpentine tongue licked lips as the Dark Lord and Xatarass sampled
the air. “Like power,” came the final assessment. “The room smells of sex but
you are power.”
       “Just so long as I smell like innocent power when I change back,” Harry
said, flexing his form a little to know where the edges of his being was. He
might have been energy at the time but the habits of a corporal body were hard
to break and knowing one’s boundaries was instinctive. “So, to change back
I...” he murmured, running through the steps that were required to resume human
form mentally.
       It was fairly simple because it was the form ingrained within him. It
was the form that was natural. A lot of magic was like this. You knew the
process but you didn’t direct every part of it because once started you trusted
the magic to take care of the rest. That was where mastery lay. Being able to
direct every part of every spell, meant that you understood it completely but
more importantly you could disrupt it, change it, make it do what you wanted it
to.
       When the Dark Lord in combat seemed to stop another’s charm without
countering it that was what he was doing. He was simply taking control of the
magic in a section where the caster wasn’t directing it and forcing the charm
to do his bidding. He changed the streams of magic to something more useful to
him rather than what the intended charm said. It was simple really, anyone
could do it, but not everyone had the ability to understand magic to that level
or the will to take conscious control over something that was unconscious.
       All Harry did really to change back into his human form was picture
vaguely how he had been and will his power to flow in that direction. He
mentally said the words of the animagus charm and he felt his power react as it
began flowing on the path that was his human form. He felt himself change and
relaxed.
       It didn’t hurt this time because he wasn’t afraid. He wouldn’t be afraid
of this again, and this time he was changing into what he thought was right.
       When it was done though he sighed and sat cross legged, looking at his
feet. He was human but... it felt empty.
       “Harry?”
       “It’s alright,” he said after a moment. “Do I smell okay?” He asked
reaching out to take the robes that had been created earlier.
       “You smell clean. It doesn’t suit you. It makes me what to dirty you,”
Voldemort said, reaching out to embrace his mate. He licked roughly along
Harry’s neck. “And you still taste good, but you are concerned about
something...”
       “I feel... I feel empty. I feel weak.”
       :Because you are human,: the Shadow’s said softly. :Bear with it,
Master, just for a little while.:
       “That is why I said you should not let the limitation that is humanity
hold you back. And for wizards like us, my Little Basilisk, it is a limitation.
You will learn to control it though, in time. I would show you but I think it
better for Dumbledore’s benefit if you learn that under his tuition so that he
feels you are not a threat or at least so he believes that you are one
controlled.” Long fingers tugged the last of Harry’s robes into position,
smoothing them slightly. “Now... though it pains me, you should go, least they
come looking. While I would enjoy showing them your true loyalty, now is not
yet the time.”
       Harry closed his eyes briefly, trying to adjust to the feeling that was
coursing through his body. His muscles felt hollow and his eye lids felt heavy.
He had had power in his grasp and it was his but it almost felt like he had let
it go, it almost felt like he had given it up.
       But he would regain it. Later, he would regain it and he would learn to
control it and he won’t be hindered by the shell of humanity. Not if he was
going to feel like this.
       “Kiss me goodbye,” he said, putting his arms around the Dark Lord’s
waist. “I’ll need something to remember you with,” he added, pulling his mind
away from what was only a temporary physical weakness.
       “And last night was not enough?” Voldemort asked archly.
       “Last night was just a warm up.” Harry responded saucily. Last night was
simply a sample of how they would spend their nights once everything was over.
       The Dark Lord was eager to comply with his mates request and he
supported Harry’s head with one long fingered hand as they kissed. As always
his mate tasted of aniseed and vanilla, the two combined uniquely into
something that was addictive. Innocence and experience, power and strength,
youth with maturity... his beloved was everything the Dark Lord wanted. He
wondered how history would record it if the two of them gave into their desires
mid battle...
       Separation might be the fastest and most efficient way of getting
absolute control over the world but that didn’t mean it was easy.
       They pulled back eventually, flushed slightly but each tasting of the
other.
       “Now go,” Voldemort said. “Dumbledore will no doubt want to test the new
extent of your power.”
       Harry smiled in that way that the Dark Lord knew no one but him had ever
seen. It was a smile full of confidence, arrogant and almost self-righteous but
oh so true for his mate. “He’ll find that out in time. For now though, I’ll
show him exactly what he wants to see.” He reached out and opened the door, not
looking back as it closed behind him.
       Voldemort watched the door close and sat back into the chair, enjoying
the quiet that was the shielded chamber. He had to go as well. He had many
things to do but first...
       “You will help him?”
       :Of course we will. He is our Master and our Master cannot afford
weakness.:
       The Dark Lord nodded as the shadows flickered and faded. They would
teach Harry what he needed to know because it suited them not him but that
would be enough.
===
       Harry leaned against the door as he shifted his mental state around, his
true self retreating to allow the illusion which entertained Fawkes free reign.
The shift didn’t hurt and it wasn’t that unpleasant except in the manner that
it was not what he wanted. He was becoming used to it, and it was fairly
comfortable but it was not what he wanted. 
       Outside of the shielding he could now feel Dumbledore and the others
clearly and he could sense that they had felt him already as well. He wasn’t
sure what he was doing today though as the Hogwarts Headmaster hadn’t
elaborated much past the Coming of Age Ceremony.
       Probably celebrations today with training tomorrow since yesterday,
while it had been his birthday, he hadn’t been in any fit state to truly
celebrate. He had to write some thank you letters as well for the gifts he’d
received. He was looking forward to training because he was looking forward to
seeing what abilities they thought he should have and he was looking forward to
seeing what they would use to counter his beloved. No matter how good the Dark
Lord’s spy network things were different from the outside looking in as opposed
to the inside looking out.
       It was amusing that they would be in that position but in the end would
arrive at the same place. Harry shook his head as he began walking through the
stacks of wands. He could think about that later. For now, he had to get back
to Hogwarts and he really wanted to see Ginny... or at least write to her. He
hadn’t been able to see her on his birthday and wouldn’t any life mate want to
see his other half every day?
       “‘Morning,” he said brightly as he emerged into Ollivander’s shop, and
showed himself around the counter to come to stand just on the edge of the
space available to customers.
       “Good morning, Harry,” Dumbledore greeted him with a smile and twinkling
eyes. “How are you feeling?”
       “Well thank you,” Harry said. “But I can’t remember much of what
happened yesterday. Is that normal?”
       Remus laughed. “Very normal,” he said soothingly, “Not that there is
much too remember,” he added easily. “Although I remember that time with...
Heh... never mind Harry. It’s good to have you back.”
       “Did everything go smoothly?” Sirius asked, his voice showing his
concern. “Do you feel any different?”
       “A little,” Harry said carefully. “I feel more aware of things,” he
explained as his true self whispered, :I feel more aware of how weak this form
is.: “I feel like I’ve grown but everything still fits.”
       Ollivander chuckled at that. “I hear that reaction a lot from may
wizards and witches. Does your wand still fit?”
       “Hm?”
       “Does your wand still fit?”
       “I think so.”
       “Try it.”
       Harry looked at Dumbledore but the ancient wizard just nodded,
indicating that he should bring his wand out for the wand maker to see if it
still fit, although how a wand didn’t fit was a little strange unless it never
fitted in the first place.
       :It’s in your left pocket,: the Shadow’s whispered to him, allowing
themselves to flicker visibly.
       Ancient blue eyes widened slightly but Dumbledore was careful to limit
his reaction to that at the sign of Harry’s servants. Sirius’ reaction remained
bland while both Ollivander and Remus remained unaffected. :We think it’s time
we appeared in your presence so that everyone knows what your power is and
everyone can expect us. We have always been here but it’s time to show exactly
how pervasive we are.: They explained briefly to Harry before they fell silent
again as their Master drew out his wand.
       When the thirteen inches of yew didn’t react for an instant Ollivander
pursed his lips before Harry seemed to burst into flames, the power of the wand
reacting with his and making him feel warm with the assurance that it would be
there for him, always working to help him focus his abilities.
       “I guess everything still does fit,” the Wand maker said cheerfully as
Harry controlled the discharge of magic, limiting his aura again as most learnt
to unconsciously do in first year. Although that little display just confirmed
what he had suspected a while ago and the silver eyed man could tell, just by
looking at Dumbledore’s face that the ancient wizard hadn’t figured it out. He
still did not understand the differences between broken and bent.
       “Well then,” Dumbledore smiled, “I thank you Ollivander for the use of
your room but we should be off since I’m sure you would much rather be dealing
with paying customers.” He lead the way to the door and pulled it open with the
tingle of bells. “I will speak to you later.”
       The Wand maker nodded and simply guided them out, paying close attention
to the way young Harry moved and felt. Everything did still fit as the boy had
indicated but... something had changed since last night and it appeared to be
more than should have changed with the Coming of Age Ceremony or even in the
presence of his mate. He seemed more... self-contained... more sure of his
abilities, almost as if he had been amplified. Ollivander shook his head as he
watched them disappear into the crowds of Diagon Alley. With Mr Potter it
seemed nothing was what it should be. He would have to tread carefully.
       :No, you will have to maintain neutrality, nothing more.: A shadow said
as it slide into the corner again.
       “You’re not accompanying your Master?” He asked as he puttered back
towards the counter. He had better check on his other guest.
       :I’m not,: the shadow said as it followed smoothly, :but you know that
one is not the sum of the whole.:
       He smiled. “You are talkative today,” he commented, knocking politely on
the door to the shielded room.
       :Because it is time we entered the game.:
       Ollivander glanced towards the shadow but it simply merged with the
darkness and it was only because he didn’t see as a human that he could tell
the difference between it and the shadows cast by the stacks of wands. If they
were truly going to enter this game then... things would be very interesting.
       ===
       Voldemort sat quietly. The shielded room of the Wandmaker was comforting
in its own way, peaceful and quiet, as if was somehow removed from the rest of
the world. With the night just past he had a lot of things to consider.
       A tenshi.
       Harry was a tenshi.
       A pure blooded tenshi with pure white wings but more power than he knew
what to do with. It had been little wonder that returning to human form had
made him feel weak. It was a weak form comparatively.
       But even so, what did being a tenshi truly mean beyond the ability to
potentially harness almost a limitless supply of power?
       The first answer was obvious.
       It meant that more than him, more than Dumbledore, more than anyone else
living or dead, historical or not, Harry was the most powerful wizard in
existence. The sheer raw power he could harness without even needing to call
upon his servants ensured that.
       The serpent smiled at that. It meant that in controlling this being, he
controlled pure power. It meant that his eventual victory was assured.
       But on a more personal level it did mean that Harry would have to choose
to submit to him... There was no way he could force his mate into submission...
And while the boy might be happy to now... his servants were dominating, would
they be happy with submission always? He wasn’t sure about that answer.
       :We are happy if our Master is happy,: a shadow said. :As we told him
once, we are bound to serve him but it is easier for us to get what we want
from him if he is happy and compliant and so we will do what it takes to ensure
his happiness. If that means submitting to you Serpent Lord then that is what
he will do, however do not expect us to submit to you.:
       “I don’t,” Voldemort replied a loud. “But by your own admission, if it
made Harry happy to screw some idiot female, you would have already seen to my
demise.”
       :Not necessarily. We have our own goal, Serpent Lord. Your ascension to
power forms a part of that.:
       “Only because I have claimed him. Things could have been different.”
       :They could have been very different but they are not.:
       “I have no desire to lose my mate.”
       :You won’t.:
       “I won’t because I already have, or I won’t because you won’t let it
happen?” the Dark Lord questioned but the Shadow remained silent. Harry had
responded to him but had not responded to his claims of ownership.
       Xatarass hissed at him. -Does it matter? The whelp is mine and through
him, yours. He cannot escape, bonded or not he cannot escape.-
       “He is one of the few I cannot force Xatarass and one of the only ones I
do not wish to force but you are correct, acknowledged or not, he is mine and I
will make certain that his body remembers that, should he forget.”
       -Be careful, it is not truly submission that you want.-
       Voldemort smiled. Xatarass was right. He wanted submission in that he
never wanted Harry to look elsewhere because Harry was his. He wanted
submission in that he wanted his little basilisk to stay with him but he would
accept an equal partnership. At full power Harry was beautiful beyond words and
his touch was something to be yearned for.
       He wanted what he wanted because he wanted it all.
       The Dark Lord rose, reaching down to pick up his outer robe from where
it had been discarded hours ago. It was rather crumpled but a quick charm fixed
that. He flicked it around his shoulders but was surprised to see something
flutter from it.
       A feather. A single white feather.
       “Oh...” He couldn’t help but smile at the memory. He hadn’t known Harry
could be that vindictive... but his mate had a true sense of pleasure and
turned even punishment into enjoyment... No, he didn’t really want Harry to
submit at all.
       He picked it up, twisting it between his fingers and admiring the way
the light caught the natural sheen on the feather. It seemed almost to glow
with its own light but the Dark Lord knew it was simply the reflection and
refraction of light through the normal oils that were present in healthy
feathers. He ruffled it with one finger and watched as it realigned itself,
preening itself back into its perfect shape.
       “Heh...” He’d wondered how a halfling was meant to keep their feathers
preened. Birds had no problem but they had beaks... It appeared though that
tenshi got around the preening problem by simply having self-preening feathers.
That would make the maintenance of their form simpler and it bespoke power. For
the feather to maintain itself, away from its originator... it had power in and
of itself but then... it had come from a magical being. A magical being who was
Harry... perhaps it would make a...
       A knock on the door brought him from his reverie and he looked up.
       :The wand maker,: the shadow’s informed him as he tensed before they
retreated almost into nothing.
       Ah... he should perhaps have been expecting this since Ollivander would
no doubt wish to set this room to rights quickly and his prolonged presence
within the store was not something that was required or probably particularly
desired.
       “Come,” he called, slipping the feather into a pocket. He could consider
it more later.
       The door swung open easily and Ollivander looked around briefly before
looking over at his guest. There was nothing to see. He had been a seducer once
and had learnt how to clean up from such escapades very effectively.
       “They are gone now.”
       Voldemort nodded, “Thank you. I shall leave as well then.”
       “That would be best.”
       “I thank you though for the opportunity to stay with my mate when he
needed me.”
       “Ah,” Ollivander said with a smile. “But I gather the experience wasn’t
quite what you thought it would be.”
       “It wasn’t disappointing,” the Dark Lord said with a mysterious smile.
“But you were correct in your warning. It is most forth right with its desires
and I think the game is about to get a lot more interesting, even for one such
as you who watches.”
       Ollivander smiled slightly as the Dark Lord unknowingly named his
occupation. “I will continue to watch,” he said. “I have no intention of
breaking neutrality, no matter who asks. The games of you wizards are of no
concern to me.”
       “Oh, I did not mean to imply that you would. Your neutrality is not
expected but is respected, at least by me and I would not be so foolish as to
seek to force you to join my cause. Even so, the games we wizards play cannot
be of such little concern if you watch.”
       The wand maker froze, looking sharply at the Dark Lord. He didn’t know
what he was talking about but his guesses were very close to the truth. But
then Riddle had always been prepared to acknowledge that he wasn’t the only one
with a plan, that he wasn’t the only one trying to achieve something but with
the acknowledgement did not always come acceptance but the wand maker’s
neutrality was not something that was open to questioning.
       He was neutral because he was the watcher, and while the games of
wizards were interesting, no matter what they might think, they could not
affect the tenshi, not really. They might be able to affect one or two
individual tenshi but if wizards truly threatened them, then they would band
together and that would be the end of that. A wizard, no matter how powerful or
who they followed could not hope to win against the might of a tenshi. It was
only the fact that the tenshi did not care about the corporal world that mean
the wizards could dominate. Wizards and tenshi had different roles within magic
and one should not be so arrogant as to think they could replace the other.
That went both ways. Which was why he watched. Sometimes there were those
wizards who thought they could control a tenshi, who did affect the fabric of
magic and watched for them so that they could be controlled.
       “I am neutral,” he said carefully. “I have always been neutral and I
will always be neutral. I only act to preserve that neutrality or to protect
the interests of those I do watch for but so far I have never needed to act. No
matter what develops now, I doubt I will have need to act.”
       “I hope so,” Voldemort replied. “I do hope so because there are some
things the serpent does not wish to see altered.”
       “Xatarass?”
       “The Line of Ximir respects your neutrality,” the serpent said, “we hope
that you will continue to respect our choices.”
       Ollivander nodded. “Where those choices do not conflict with my
objectives, you may do what you like.”
       Both man and serpent nodded at that, their air one of acceptance. This
was something they both had to be clear on but it was better now.
       Voldemort moved to the door. “I thank you for your time and your
hospitality this night. I thank you also for the warning about Xir,” he said
formally as he turned to leave.
       “I thank you for your conversation and the explanation,” the wand maker
said in an equally grave tone, “but you still owe me that core.”
       The Dark Lord laughed softly before pulled up short... The core for the
wand. He reached into his robes pocket, pulling out the white feather. “Use
this,” he said as he laid the feather down gently. “I think it will be
appropriate.”
       Ollivander’s eyes opened wide as he saw the feather... “That is... where
did you get this?” he asked. He could feel the power in it. He could almost see
it even without trying. That was something the Dark Lord should not have had.
But was it really..? The Dark Lord seemed to think it was so for now he would
have to act appropriately. He could test it to be sure later.
       “It is very special, I know,” Voldemort said. “I almost forgot I had
it,” he added, smiling slightly at the wand maker, “but it should be more than
adequate for that wand. I think you’ll find it most adaptable.”
       Silver eyes blinked and the Dark Lord saw the wand maker take a deep
breath, forcing himself to calm. “Yes,” he murmured as he accepted the feather.
“It will more than compensate for the woods fragility.”
       Voldemort pulled up his hood, hiding his features as they emerged into
the wand maker’s shop. There was a small family of wizards there so they
couldn’t talk longer. “I’ll come by to collect it in a while,” he said
conversationally, as if he was nothing more than another customer who had
commissioned something special.
       “I will owl you when it’s ready,” Ollivander fell into the role play,
despite his curiosity about the origins of the feather. There were tests he
could run but they would only confirm the type of power the feather had and
what level it was. Even if what he suspected was true, they couldn’t tell him
who had given the Dark Lord such a dangerous gift. He couldn’t tell who was
interfering in the balance by dealing with one of the few wizards who could
affect them and he didn’t like that because then there were too many things he
did not know about his own kind save that a black wing might be watching and a
white wing was truly involved. “Please come again,” he added as the Dark Lord
seemed to flow through the door, moving so smoothly that the bell didn’t even
jingle.
       The wizarding family watched silently, sensing the power but somehow not
intimidated by its display. At the same time though they were not curious about
its owner and as Ollivander turned to deal with them, they completely forgot
the one who had accompanied him from the rear of the store. There were, after
all, many prosperous wizards within Diagon Alley, many who didn’t wish to be
known. Even with the second rise of the Dark Lord, some things hadn’t changed.
===
       “Professor!” Harry called as their little group walked through Diagon
Alley. It was different from how he remembered it. It looked much the same, if
a little less crowded but there was a difference beyond the lack of school
crowds. It was a little early for them. He looked around, trying to find what
was wrong.
       There were other wizards and witches around but Harry realized with a
start that none of them were alone. They were all, at the very least, in pairs,
one who was shopping and one who was watching. Even the family groups were
different. Usually it would have been a mother and children, now though it
appeared the whole family was there. Mother, father, and children, all were on
their best behaviour. There was no laughter, no squeals from play. There was
nothing. The Alley was full of people but it was lifeless... Did they truly
fear the Dark Lord that much?
       He was forced to reluctantly conclude yes. They were wizards, they
shouldn’t fear him. He felt sad, but as Dumbledore turned to him, he couldn’t
think about it more. It wasn’t something he could combat alone. “What happens
now?” he asked, as they walked passed the Owlery.
       The birds were still magnificent and still on display; tawny, black,
brown, and sooty. There were all colours including... a snowy...
       A sharp pang passed though Harry and he looked away quickly. He hadn’t
thought of Hedwig for a while but he should have. She’d been through everything
with him and she had always done her best for him, yet she’d died... No. She’d
been murdered and that was something he never really thought about. It wasn’t
that he’d been too busy, he wouldn’t take that excuse but it was because he
hadn’t wanted too. Thinking about it would be to admit she was gone, would be
to admit that not only had Draco arranged for Blaise and Millicent to hurt him
but he had killed her... Thinking about it would get him angry and
unconsciously his eyes burned with power... That Slytherin... like Bulstrode
and Zabini... they all would...
       :Master! Calm!: The shadows snapped at him and Harry blinked, becoming
aware of the power that seemed to rise off him in tangible waves, whipping
around the alley and drawing the eyes of all present. The shadows were
flickering around him, consuming the radiant wisps of energy and the whole
effect was to make him seem like a small beacon of energy.
       “Harry!” Sirius and Remus were flustered but were both calling to him,
while Dumbledore looked on, eyes sparking happily as he saw the visual effects
of Harry’s power. Within him Fawkes hummed happily but sympathetically
spreading warmth throughout his body. The phoenix’s power mingled with his own
and he tingled all over, feeling energized by Fawkes’ song. He didn’t feel weak
as he had when he had first changed back and now the lingering hollowness was
reduced.
       The loss of weakness brought him back to himself and he reached out
instinctively drawing his energy back into his body. The shadows sighed as
their food disappeared and they followed the wisps of power back to their
source, nestling themselves into the folds of Harry’s clothes.
       For a moment there was no movement before Harry bowed his head, gulping.
“I’m sorry,” he said, resisting the urge to bite his lip. “I just... I just
remembered Hedwig for a moment,” he said softly, glancing towards the Owlery.
       Expressions changed instantly from concern to sympathy and even Fawkes
cooed sympathetically.
       “I’ll try harder. I won’t let it consume me,” Harry added.
       “It’s perfectly understandable, Harry, and we know that you miss her. We
should have taken a different way.”
       “No Professor. It’s my fault. It shouldn’t... after this much time it
shouldn’t affect me. I should remember her lovingly, not with tears. She may
only have been an owl but she wouldn’t want me to cry every time I think about
her.”
       Dumbledore nodded kindly, the tinkle in his blue eyes understanding but
not quite covering the joy that had been there at Harry’s unconscious display
of power. Although... sometime in the year they would have to get Harry a new
Owl. He would need it. Maybe he should talk to Hagrid. Hedwig had been...
Hedwig had been unique but Harry needed that, just as he would need all the
protection they could give. He looked around, nodding at many of the watchers
comfortingly before he began ushering the little group back towards the Leaky
Caldron so that they could return to Hogwarts. They had things they needed to
discuss in private and he still needed to look in at a few places so he would
see Sirius and Remus off before he made his private rounds.
===
       The Dark Lord looked around Diagon Alley as he moved quickly. It was
quiet. It was still full of people but they were quiet and nowhere could he see
individuals. Everyone was clumped together as a group... which just made them
so much easier to kill. Didn’t they realize that?
       Despite the fact that he was alone, he wasn’t attracting overt attention
but there were one or two furtive glances towards him. He was used to being
watched though and continued to stalk through the Alley.
       He wanted to have a brief look around before he returned to his
stronghold. His servants reported back to him but he needed to assess what the
sentiment of various creatures was. He knew what the humans thought of him,
that was obvious in their actions but he wanted to know what the sentiment of
some of the nonhumans was.
       Most dark creatures, the non:human ones weren’t organized. They didn’t
need to be, as they simply acted as they would, but they would also come to his
call, the chimeras, lethifolds and manticores. Or else they weren’t worth his
time. The serpents were already his, their loyalty ensured by the power of
Slytherin and Xatarass’ presence within him.
       The others though, the neutral non:humans... some like the unicorns he
could ignore as creatures of light but Giants, Veela, the neutral groups he did
need to treat with. They were smaller than the vampires and werewolves but they
could still tip the balance. The vampires he would exterminate and the
werewolves he would have to deal with through those of his followers who had
been bitten. Goblins would require a plan to ensure he wiped them all out, but
the Veela had a small presence here and he would look in on them. The personal
touch was appreciated.
===
       Voldemort resisted the urge to gag. He’d forgotten how clinging and
cloying the perfume was here. It was on the bodies of the workers but it hung
in the air thickly covering the scent of all activities. He could almost feel
it coating his tongue and throat and his eyes were reacting to the stuff.
Xatarass wanted to reveal himself just so that his eyes felt better but he
couldn’t, not yet. He wouldn’t get the alliance of the Veela’s from this, but
it was a step forward in courting and therefore he couldn’t kill them, even if
he wanted to. He consoled himself by thinking about some of his plans for the
other races.
       “Think about it,” he said to the Madam, his red eyes softening
welcomingly. “I can give you much more than the Ministry. Look at your
children. Is this their choice or is this what they have been forced to do? You
think those wizards care?”
       “I know they don’t care,” the Madam responded, stepping forward and
pulling back the curtain of beads for her guest. She was more than aware that
the Ministry didn’t care, at least not about her children, her species. They
only cared when it was some witch : they didn’t cater towards those of other
tastes, not here : who they took in although even they were more than happy to
sample the wares. Men were all the same but she wasn’t sure serpents were
better... although... were they worse?
       Death Eaters used their services but so did Aurors and it appeared they
both could promise much. Delivery was something else. It always was.
       “I will pass your offer to our clan lea...”
       “Madam, no!” Ceil rushed forward from the waiting room, her pale blonde
hair toned a soft blue in the light, but her grey eyes were wide and frantic.
       “Ceil!” The Madam said, worriedly trying to look back and forth between
the waiting room and the corridor to determine what was so important that the
child would lose her fear of the Dark Lord and risk death by barging forward
into their path. Her own eyes widened as she saw the other guest that was
waiting, and she realized as for the first time in years fear blossomed in the
pit of her stomach that there was nothing she could do now. They had seen each
other.
       There was a sibilant laugh from her side, but it wasn’t comforting and
she shivered, gathering Ceil close as the Serpent Lord flowed forwards,
radiating confidence to confront the other wizard. “Well, this is a surprise
Old Man.” There was amusement colouring the steal like hatred in the Dark
Lord’s voice.
       “I could say the same,” Dumbledore replied coldly. “I thought your
tastes lay else where.” The ancient wizard’s voice showed his own distaste of
the one he was speaking with.
       The Madam’s bosom heaved and she pushed Ceil towards the back. “Take
cover,” she said kindly. “And warn the others.” She had to try to mediate even
though she knew her inborn ability would work on neither but she would not her
establishment turn into a battle ground.
       The Serpent sensed her movement first and his aura flared warningly. “I
have no intention of fighting, just yet,” he said as much for her benefit as
for the Hogwart’s Headmaster’s, ignoring the implied insult of the old wizards
opening statement.
       Dumbledore’s blue eyes narrowed at that, but he didn’t go for his wand.
“You have mellowed,” he said conversationally, shifting slightly.
       “Not that much, Old Man,” the Dark Lord hissed. “And while I would
gladly take the opportunity to kill you, now is not yet the time.”
       “Why are you here?”
       “You already know that answer.”
       Red and blue eyes locked together and they stepped around each other
carefully, measuring the others actions and tone. The Madam gulped from the
doorway, hardly daring to breathe as her eyes flickered back and forth between
the two. They both radiated power and a killing intent for the other that no
wizard could hope to compete with. They were almost two sides of the same coin
and she wondered what would tip the balance. The balance of the war and the
balance of now...
       Which would blink first?
       “How did the ceremony go?”
       The Madam was surprised to see Dumbledore smile. With the tension of the
situation the smile was too relaxed and too confident.
       “Well,” he said finally.
       The Serpent Lord noted the ease of reply but simply nodded at the
response, unconcerned.
       “He’s not quite ready to face you, but he will be,” Dumbledore
continued.
       Voldemort smiled, licking his lips causally. “I look forward to it,” he
murmured. “Breaking him would not be enjoyable if he’s not ready.”
       “Be careful that he doesn’t break you,” Albus retorted. The response to
the barb was surprising. The budding smile spread to the Dark Lord’s eyes and
he chuckled, hissing softly.
       “There are times, Old Man... There are times when you are most amusing.
It is so very interesting, but not enough to buy your life. Seek your alliances
where you can and do not fail again in keeping my possessions safe and I might
show mercy but for now I have too many things to do to linger and reminisce
about the past.”
       With that the Dark Lord gathered himself to disapparate and the Madam
breathed a sigh of relief, a sigh that choked as Dumbledore spoke again. “Tom?”
       There was a charged silence.
       “I thought I asked you not to call me that,” Red eyes narrowed assessing
the ancient wizard’s intent before he shrugged. “What is it?”
       “He will defeat you, you know. He’s more powerful.”
       Serpent eyes flashed and the Dark Lord’s skin mottled for an instant.
“Perhaps,” Voldemort said softly. “But it remains a question of if he will have
the chance.”
       As the words hung in the air there was a light pop as the Dark Lord
disapparated. Dumbledore’s hard blue eyes stared at the spot for a moment
before he turned back towards the Veela Madam whose slight frame was quivering
in the doorway, the beads ratting around her as they shivered in time with her
motion.
       “I am sorry, Madam,” he said softly, casting a calming charm. He
gestured for her to sit, summoning a tea set on the low table. After she had
had a calming cup of tea his eyes turned serious again. “You know why I am
here.”
       “Yes.”
       “Tell me.”
       “You know I can’t, but I will do the same for you as I have agreed for
him. I will pass the information to our leaders. They will make the decision.”
       “That’s dangerous,” Dumbledore sighed.
       “No more than usual,” the Madam replied, flicking back her long hair.
       “All right,” the Hogwarts Headmaster agreed as he pulled several papers
from his robes. “This is what we are offering...”
 
 
***** Studies Over Summer *****
Weapon
Chapter 14 Studies Over Summer
===
       Dumbledore looked around his office. He was pleased with the night’s
events but now they had to build on them so that they could continue moving
forwards. Sirius, Remus, Minerva and Snape were present and now they would lay
out the summer training program for Harry. Harry himself was napping in the
quarters provided for him and even though that was a little unusual, Fawkes had
happily reported that everything seemed okay. He was still adjusting though and
so needed to sleep.
       He had asked the phoenix if Harry’s power indicated that he would be
able to complete an animagus transformation however the bird hadn’t replied but
there was a self-satisfied gleam in fire eyes and the Headmaster had been
reassured by that. Even he’d been able to feel the change in Harry since the
moment he had appeared from Ollivander’s corridor but the specifics of such
changes were best left to the phoenix’s determination.
       So in all likelihood the first thing they had to do was establish
exactly what had changed. Once that was done, then they could begin to train
Harry...
       Train...
       Heh.
       The word was a misnomer and Dumbledore shook his head as he looked down
at the preliminary report from Marchbanks. It contained Harry’s unconfirmed OWL
and NEWT results. Unconfirmed because for such a grade to be issued it had to
be verified by other authorities and in the case of one Harry Potter, they
wanted to be discrete. The Prophet would have a field day if they found out
now, and while the Order would eventually reveal Harry’s unprecedented results,
they would reveal it at a time that suited them.
       Even so, they would still call these summer exercises ‘training’ as it
was, in a way. Harry knew the charms but he would need to learn to control the
strength of his abilities and would need to learn the ways of combat. Severus
had suggested physical training for the boy and Dumbledore had agreed. They
would need to teach him some weapons as well as the various signals used by the
Order and Aurors in battle. They would need to teach him some weapons as well
as the various signals used by the Order and Aurors in battle, knowing the
magic was not enough. They would still start with animagus training though
before moving on to that. And somewhere along the line they had to work in...
He sighed, Merlin’s beard how he loathed calling this ‘training,’ but at least
the ...training... was informative about Harry’s hereditary abilities.
       The shadows seemed to accompany their young master everywhere, a fact
for which Dumbledore was pleased about, but they did need to begin to separate
fact from fiction. The accounts of the few times Gryffindor had used his
birthright were sketchy, even those written by the other founders and so they
had to know more. Already they had learnt a lot about the shadows, just by
observing Harry. No one had known the shadows could talk, or that they could
act without their Masters permission unless in his defence yet they had. The
Order had to know more, had to know the limits of their abilities as well as
learn how autonomous they were and how extensive was Harry’s control. They
could not afford an ability or a weapon which was unstable or unreliable.
       He had every confidence in Harry though. Already the youngest member of
the Order had proven his worth and his adaptability and in reality he knew they
had no choice, they could fight Tom but only Harry could win. Tom had a
fixation on the young Gryffindor and would continue to come at him until one or
the other was dead. It was almost a compulsion but it was one they could
exploit.
       “I still insist he gets Potion training!” The angry statement broke
through his thoughts; Severus’ voice, fighting with Sirius, no surprise there.
“That’s the one area your precious Godchild is deficient in.”
       The canine animagus looked amused and picked up Marchbank’s report,
leafing through the pages before he answered Snape. “An Exceeds Expectations
result on a NEWT level paper...” he murmured, deliberately keeping his tone
mild, “Most wizards would kill to have a deficiency like that.”
       “The point is he could do better.”
       “Probably not with you teaching him though,” Remus said quietly.
       “Are you saying I’m not qualified?”
       “I’m saying that Harry doesn’t like you. He probably could do better
since it seems that all other knowledge from the Dark Lord transferred and by
your own admission Severus, the Dark Lord can rival you in Potions when he
desires but Harry is unlikely to desire to do better with you as a teacher.”
       “Who else will teach him then?”
       “Is it really that essential to raise an Exceeds Expectations to an
Outstanding. For anyone else we wouldn’t even be concerned. If we do Potions
training though, then we are obligated to train Mr. Potter in Herbology as well
to raise that Exceeds Expectations.”
       “What practical purpose does that serve?” Snape sneered.
       “What practical purpose does Potions serve?” The question was returned.
       “Like it or not, we are training him for a battle and in battle potions
come in pre-packaged vials, ready for use,” Remus said reasonably, trying to
avert further argument. “Practical Potion Use could perhaps be a topic of
training but in the brewing of Potions, Harry is sufficiently skilled for our
purposes.”
       “Both Potions and Herbology were marked down due to the fact that Harry
completed OWL level papers for them but his practical results in both were up
to NEWT level,” Dumbledore broke in mildly. “Severus, in as much as it pleases
me that you would like to teach young Harry further, Remus is correct, for the
purposes of the Order and the Ministry Harry’s potion making abilities are more
than sufficient, however should he ever show a desire to develop them more, he
will of course be referred to you for further lessons should you still be
willing. Harry does not need further potion classes, or Herbology classes and I
apologize if you thought that was why I had asked you to stay over summer.
       “Harry needs weapons training, something, which in addition to your
formidable potion making abilities, you are more than qualified to teach.”
       “Weapons?” Snape asked incredulously. He couldn’t be hearing correctly.
       Dumbledore looked mildly amused. “Yes, weapon training,” he confirmed,
his eyes twinkling.
       The Potion Master snorted. “You’re afraid I’ll poison your precious
Potter in Potions but you are prepared to let me near him with something
sharp?” He questioned. Logic wasn’t Sirius’ strong point, true but he was
usually a little more consistent.
       The canine animagus simply smiled. “Yes, I will for the simple fact that
during his duel in his DADA OWL... or is that NEWT, he used Gryffindor’s sword
quite proficiently and so he needs that training.”
       Severus sobered. Potter had... He knew Potter had inherited much of the
Serpent Lord’s knowledge but if Potter had his fighting prowess as well... “So
you are telling me he fights like the Dark Lord?”
       “Possibly,” Remus shrugged, unconcerned.
       His lips curled in distaste. It wasn’t that the Serpent Lord couldn’t
fight. Severus was more than aware of that having sparred with him a few times
many, many years ago, it was just that the style was so... basic. It was
brutally effective but crude, lacking any degree of elegance or refinement. It
was a style that showed no respect for the art and simply went straight for the
throat. It was perfect in combat but lacking in all other aspects. It was ugly
and he had no desire to hone anyone’s ability with it : child of the unrefined
Potter’s or not, that style was something that didn’t need perpetuating.  
       “Look upon it as an opportunity to instil the proper wizarding
traditions into that style,” Dumbledore said mildly.
       Snape was still not impressed or amused and he didn’t miss the dog
rolling his eyes but... he needed this. He needed a reason to get close to
Potter to report back to the Dark Lord. If it wasn’t going to be Potions, it
had to be something. “All right,” he agreed. He might protest but he had no
choice.
       :You would if you joined us.:
       The Potion Master gritted his teeth against the voice. He wasn’t going
to listen to it, plain and simple. He wasn’t going to listen because he would
find his own way through the mess he had created. It was what a Snape did. They
did not rely on others. They most certainly did not rely on shapeless, formless
voices... even if that voice was powerful.
       “I’ll do it,” he said, “but I take no responsibility for any bruises or
lack of ability on his part. The path of the sword is something you are either
suited for or not.”
       Dumbledore nodded in that affable way that he does, blue eyes twinkling,
showing absolutely no concern for life or limb. It was that manner that had
made many underestimate him, seeing a doddery old fool instead of the cold and
cunning leader of the Order. Sirius just rolled his eyes again. It was galling
but Snape was a better swordsman than him; they had both learned the art, as
did most of those that descended from old wizarding lines. Sirius didn’t
consider the fact that Snivelus was better at potions and sword work a mark of
being a better wizard. He was better at living, and that was the final
scorecard that mattered. Remus was unconcerned. Snape had said that he would
teach Harry, and so he would. The Potion Master was many things but he was a
man of his word in things such as this. He had no choice but to be. Besides,
Harry would be well protected on any battlefield. It was unlikely that such
training would be called for. At least, the werewolf hoped that would be the
case. Even so, he had his own concerns.
       “Now that Harry has a Weapons Master,” Dumbledore said, we need to
decide on the rest of his summer teachers. “Minerva has already volunteered to
remain to teach him advanced transfiguration but Remus, I was wondering if you
could help as well? Your knowledge and resilience would prove useful in
training.”
       “Resilience?” the werewolf questioned. “What a nice way to put it.”
       “Remus?” Dumbledore enquired, his eyes becoming serious at the almost
resentful tone in his Professor’s voice.
       Sirius just watched. He already knew what was wrong and had tried
comforting his old friend as much as possible but there was only so much he
could do.
       “I’ll do it Headmaster,” Lupin said. “Someone has to make sure Harry is
safe from those that bite,” he added, revealing the core of his concern.
       “Is there a problem?”
       “Nothing more than already has been stated,” Remus returned. “I do not
and never will trust vampires and I still don’t like the fact that you have
allied us with them.”
       “There is no choice.”
       Most would have expected Dumbledore’s voice to be cold on this matter,
his tone one that brooked no disobedience and was insulted that the werewolf
could question his judgment. It wasn’t though. Instead it was apologetic and
soft, tired. It was at odds with the serious look in his eyes.
       “You think that’s going to matter to the werewolves as a whole? We
cannot and will not work with Vampires. We have always maintained that and we
will always maintain that. I told you, this will not go over well.”
       “Remus the Ministry is already repealing those anti-werewolf laws but
you know as well as I do it is the community as a whole that has to learn.”
       “I know,” Lupin said. “I’m just afraid of what you are going to learn,”
he added.
       “What has Tom offered?” Dumbledore asked sharply.
       “Nothing, the offer hasn’t come yet beyond the normal enticements but
with the choice between the path most wizards expect us to take, and working
with the blood suckers, a lot of were wolves will choose to follow him, even
knowing that he’ll probably renege on the bargain.”
       “They can’t expect him to win?”
       “They’re not sure what to think. Not everyone buys the Ministry line
that he was driven back by the Aurors, especially when you’re used to
distrusting the Ministry in the first place. He’s not a sure thing but he’s not
a long shot either,” Remus said, trying to keep his anger out of his tone.
       “This is troubling.”
       “More than you know. There’s a third force as well.”
       “What?” Snape questioned.
       “Who were the two who helped You-Know-Who in the Atrium?” Remus asked.
       “We don’t know. No one knows. They could be his, but they could be
someone else. There is a lot of interest there.”
       “They were shadow forces,” Dumbledore said, “And they will soon stand
with the Ministry through Harry.”
       “Maybe,” the werewolf said. “If they are shadow forces, then well and
good but are the shadows one whole, or are there factions?”
       :That’s interesting,: the shadows murmured to Sirius. :We were wondering
how he was going to bring up that there was a third offer. Very interesting...
and this way Snape gets to tell Voldemort. Very clever.:
       :It doesn’t change anything though.:
       :No, but it is very interesting.:
       Sirius resisted the urge to place his hand on Remus’ forearm in comfort
but he tried to let his old friend know he was there for him, and he had
reassured him numerous times over the past few days.
       “The shadows will fall into line,” Dumbledore said firmly but was
tactful enough to avoid the statement that he expected the werewolves to follow
suit.
       “All I said is that I’m just afraid what the world will learn. I will do
my best but... with the choices that have come to light; I don’t know where the
werewolves will turn.”
       The Headmaster nodded. It seemed he would have to speak with the
Ministry about sweetening the deal with the werewolves. They were owed it but
making the Ministry see that could be difficult and he didn’t like setting the
precedent. In the end, all they could really offer was long term acceptance for
the future but how well the current generations of werewolves valued that was
problematic. They were like most humans after all in that they saw their pain
and valued that almost above all else. The pain of future werewolves was
something they cared about but only in the abstract. It was difficult to care
for such things when you were starving each night and had to scurry through the
fringes of wizarding society.
       “I will do my best,” Dumbledore returned the agreement before looking
back towards Sirius and Snape. The two of them had been remarkably silent.
Sirius was calm but then he’d probably already discussed things in depth with
Remus and had known about the possibility of a third force, no matter what it
was. Snape though... his face was studiously blank but Albus was used to
reading it. He was intensely interested and he was gauging how much such
information would help or hinder his cause with the Dark Lord. After so long,
Snape still judged every bit of information but that was the reason he had been
able to survive so long as a spy. He only told Voldemort enough to guarantee
his position but never enough that the Dark Lord would desire to kill him. It
was a fine balance but he played it well, he played it very well.
       But the Headmaster wondered how much longer Snape could continue to
play. When Tom resumed the battle he was not likely to allow any weakness or
any questions. Absolute obedience is what he would demand and from those that
survived, that is what he would get.
       This had been an educational meeting but there were still one or two
things left to discuss. “As members of the Order, how much contact with the
Ministry do you think we should allow Harry to have?”
       Sirius snorted. “I’d love to be able to say none but that’s not going to
be possible, but minimal. They can’t come to rely on him, any more than we
should and while he has come of age he is still young. If they want to speak
with him, they can come here. Besides, if Harry remains here, then Hogwarts
will become a focal point in the battle. It’s going to be one anyway, this just
ensures that we know where the Dark Lord will attack and rather than having him
attack everywhere searching for Harry, isn’t it better to have one place where
you know he will concentrate his attention. Apart from leaving other places in
relative peace it means we can concentrate our defences.”
       Dumbledore nodded and Remus gave a quick jerk of his head to indicate
his acceptance of the reasoning. Snape looked thoughtful for a few moments.
“With the boys OWL results, they are going to want him for more things. They’re
not going to like that.”
       “They don’t have to like it,” Sirius muttered under his breath.
       “They’re going to want more and they will run the argument that having
Harry remain here just endangers the rest of the students. I can already see
the letters from concerned parents flooding the Minister’s Office that their
darlings are being put in danger.”
       “Their darlings are in danger everywhere. By keeping Harry here we can
account for that and increase the defences.”
       “I know that!” Snape returned. “The Ministry’s not going to buy it
though. Not unless there is public support for the move.”
       Albus nodded. That was true. They could do it and ignore public
sentiment, but that would just weaken morale and they needed all the morale
they could get. It looked like Elliot would be busy highlighting the fact that
Harry was still technically a child and would do better as normal environment
as possible. If they pitched it so that the parents would think that by sending
their children to Hogwarts they were helping Harry then that could be useful.
Harry would still fight; he’d just do most of it here. And Sirius was correct
on that. If Harry was here, Tom would come as well. The nature of his obsession
would not allow anything else.
       Dumbledore cleared his throat, bringing everyone’s attention to himself.
“The Order will make it clear to the Ministry that Harry’s base of operations
is to remain at Hogwarts, however, to counter that, and because they will no
doubt insist and we would be forced to, we will allow them to plan to use Harry
in specific battles, where the Order is consulted and fully involved in. This
will allow them the illusion that they may call upon him at will, while giving
us control of the circumstances, in as much control as can be achieved in
something like this.”
       Sirius’ black eyes flashed dangerously, something darker than pitch
lurking behind them as he considered the Headmasters words. The plan was
logical but it still allowed for Harry to be involved in open combat and that
was something he wasn’t easily going to allow. Did they not understand how
important Harry was, how young he was, and how bad this was going to be..?
       For them...
       The shadows laughed in his ear at the last. Sirius didn’t really feel
anything but a residual fear at the thought of Harry in combat because he knew
his Godson’s servants would keep him safe, no matter what happened but to
maintain his position that’s what he would show. Maybe this was his way of
trying to warn them, even though he could say nothing... but the canine
animagus knew they wouldn’t listen to him and he knew they were already doomed.
What happened now, was reflex.
       “That still puts Harry into a direct, frontline combat position,” he
ground out through clenched teeth. This time it was Remus who tried to comfort
him. The werewolf understood and shared his sentiments and felt the fear Sirius
knew he would have been feeling if not for the shadows’ intervention.
       “I know,” Dumbledore said tolerantly. “But it is better for us to
control that combat rather than having Tom force it upon us, because I sense,
one way or another he is going to force young Harry into combat. In skill and
power they might be equal, but in experience they are not. Tom knows that and
after having Harry snatched from him so many times, he will take advantage of
anything.”
       “He won’t just continue to court him?”
       “No. If the opportunity arises, yes, there will be further courtship but
eventually courtship will be over or Tom will get bored or desperate and he
will strike then, no matter how much he might wish dominion, his sense of self-
preservation will be stronger. We want Harry to strike before the courtship is
over,” Dumbledore said matter of factly. “Because Tom will still be sure of his
power then and that may be the only time he is vulnerable. Harry can defeat
Tom, I have no doubt of that but there will be two ways of doing it, a long
drawn out conflict where neither side wins, or a battle where we are ready
before he is, one where we strike first. That is why, despite the risk, Sirius,
I am... reluctantly willing to have Harry in combat. He will be our first
strike and with the right backing from the Order and the Ministry, that strike
will be enough.”
       “You can’t possibly think it will be over in one battle?” Snape asked,
not quite holding back a sneer.
       “It won’t be,” the Headmaster agreed. “But if we strike now, one year
will be enough.” He added, his blue eyes twinkling not with happiness but with
the anticipation of the end.
===
       Ollivander waved away his last set of customers, turning back towards
the bench. He had been unusually busy lately, at a time when he wanted nothing
more than to sit and ponder several things that had felt wrong. He had had no
opportunity for quiet inflection and usually he wouldn’t have minded but there
was something grating now and the smug satisfaction of the shadow wasn’t
helping. It was almost as if it knew more than he did and he didn’t like that
feeling. It shouldn’t matter! He was neutral. What he knew, he knew, what he
didn’t know, he didn’t know but he would act to help neither...
       But he felt that this time, it did matter.
       That feather.
       The sign on the door flipped itself and the lock slide home with a click
and the neutral tenshi turned inwards, puttering back into the gloom. It was
time to check if it truly was what he thought it was.
       The shadow glided after him. No one had noticed it today but somehow its
presence had been stronger. It was watching more avidly and it seemed far more
active than it had been before.
       He paused on the threshold to his work room to look at the feather. It
lay on a cushion in the middle of the bench and despite or maybe because of the
gathering gloom it seemed to glow softly. Its sheen was beautiful, almost pearl
like in its iridescence and each barb fitted together with the others making it
seem perfect. It was a feather from the centre of the wing, a primary but not
one of the shaped tips. It had power. He could feel that but he had to confirm
if it was the feather of a tenshi.
       If it was, it would be perfect for the wood. Soft and gentle to counter
the oaks brittleness. It would absorb energy to protect the oak without
compromising the overall power flows because it could still transfer enough
energy. Combined with dragon blood, which would provide some stabilisation and
buffering between the feather and wood, it would become a near perfect wand for
a fairly powerful wizard. The inherent properties of the oak and dragon blood
meant that the wizard would never be of the class of Dumbledore, Voldemort or
Potter but they would be formidable. If he matched the feather with a different
sheath, that would be a different matter... but this all rested on the
assumption that it was a tenshi’s feather.
       A half thought filled the room with illumination as he stepped forward
and gently picked up the feather to pluck at the fluffy, almost down like barbs
near the base of the shaft. The silver eyed man gently laid the feather down
again as he sniffed at the white material caught between his fingertips.
       It smelt salty but it was a dry salt almost burnt. He knew that smell
though. The Dark Lord Voldemort and he sniffed again, trying to find the
underlying scent of the being who had shed this feather. There was a sweet
smell, almost like toffee but with a power tang that was masked by the scent of
snake and Ollivander sighed. He wasn’t going to be able to tell that way. The
Dark Lord’s scent on it was too pervasive and was covering the owners scent. It
was there though, sweet with a bite but it was not enough for him to tell who.
There were other tests to run.
       Carefully he dropped the fluff like feather pieces into a lead bowl that
had been lined with alchemic gold. They glistened there and he could almost see
the ripple that passed through the magic of the gold at the power even the
small pieces contained. He’d been expecting it but hoping against it.
       The feather was definitely a tenshi feather, from a pureblood, a
pureblood that was a pure wing and was by definition very powerful.
       All of which was unsettling... Who was helping the Dark Lord? Because
even a feather could help... Or was it something he had found, some antique of
an ancient clan given to him as a token of power because they didn’t know what
it was? If that was the case there was nothing to worry about. By itself it was
just a feather, no different say from the feather of a phoenix. Only the
species different but if it had been given or taken from the tenshi in question
by the Dark Lord himself, then he knew too much and there was something else
wrong.
       Wait... had it been given not to the Dark Lord but to one of the
basilisks? Is that why Xatarass had been so keen to reaffirm his neutrality...
what had the serpent said...
       ‘The Line of Ximir respects your neutrality, we hope that you will
continue to respect our choices.’
       Had he been referring to the feather..? or to some other alliance the
Serpents had which had given them the feather? Basilisks were magical beings,
but the nature of their magic was confined much like it was in most magical
creatures. Wizards were watched because they could manipulate magic. Basilisks
and others weren’t because they could only manipulate magic along predetermined
pathways, enhancing their venom, the deadly gaze of their eyes. Predetermined,
predictable, known. But had they somehow sought an alliance in their quest to
destroy the phoenix Fawkes..?
       Basilisks could kill a phoenix but true to its nature it would simply
burst into flame and be reborn as a chick. The great serpents could not destroy
a phoenix, no matter how much they wanted... That’s why he had assumed they
maintained their alliance with the Dark Lord... in order that one day someone
would destroy the phoenix they hated so much. But what if they maintained their
alliance because they sought the aide of a higher magical being..?
       That could get complicated... They had the time though, and the desire
and very few thought of them as anything but the Dark Lords pets. No one knew
the true extent of the Basilisks power, range and ambition. No one thought they
would act independently. But this was supposition and only true if the feather
was Xatarass’ possession.
       Questions...
       He wasn’t meant to have so many questions. He was meant to have answers.
He was meant to watch to see the answers but it seemed the players had become
better at hiding them. He had to watch harder and he had to know since he
couldn’t do his job if he didn’t know. 
       He looked down at the pieces still glittering in the bowl and the
feather still settled on the cushion. He had no choice. At the moment, all he
could do was make the wand and deliver it... Then he would watch as he had
never watched before. But he would also check with the council. Maybe they
thought they could hide things from him again. He would have to remind them
what had happened last time that had happened if that was the case.
       Ollivander passed his hand over the bowl and a thin film appeared over
it; a preservative, one that would maintain the pieces of the feather for later
study. He then turned towards his other bench, where the oak was still gently
clasped in a vice and a small jar was beside it, seven layers of red toned
liquid visible within it.
       :Don’t start,: the shadow whispered from the corner. :You have a guest.:
       “A guest?”
       “A guest,” an unfamiliar voice answered his question and the wand maker
turned to see something which was most unexpected.
       “So it would seem,” Ollivander said, recovering slightly. “I presume you
re-locked the shop when you let yourself in?”
       “Of course, I do not wish to be disturbed.”
       The wand maker chuckled. “That does seem to be the trend lately. So...
what can I do for you?”
       Blue eyes looked around the room sharply, noting the positions of the
shadows. “A bit of this, a bit of that,” came the almost tired answer. “I see
they are here as well.”
       “They are everywhere, and it is easier to keep them where I can see
them.”
       “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer?”
       “I don’t have enemies.”
       “Ah... yes I should have remembered. I remember you teaching me that a
long time ago, you have only clients and acquaintances.”
       “At least you have remembered. So which bit did you want?”
       “Information.”
       “A very dangerous commodity.”
       “Darn it, Ollivander!” the wand makers guest hissed with surprising
venom. “This is not the time for games.”
       Ollivander looked down for a moment before he met his guests eyes
squarely. “No, the time has long passed.”
       “Then tell me,” Xeoaph almost begged.
       The wand maker looked around, noticing how the shadows seemed almost
eager. He had assured Xatarass of his neutrality and that was something he had
no intention of breaking it. Even if they weren’t here he wouldn’t break it,
there was still so much he did not understand and had to learn, so many
questions he had to answer yet before he could act, before he could even decide
if he should act.
       “What do you want to know?” He settled for the innocuous question.
       “Everything,” the vampire replied, pulling over a stool and settling
himself on to it. “But I know you cannot tell me that.”
       Ollivander started at the tired voice, looking sharply at the vampire,
reassessing what he saw. Xeoaph was tired but it was more than that.  He wasn’t
energy depleted but looked instead like one haunted, one who had been chasing
or dodging shadows for too long, one who didn’t know where to go or what to do.
It was not a state one saw a vampire in, ever.
       “My children are afraid,” the vampire said. “We’ve taken the path with
the Ministry because that is the only path we can take. I lead them. They do
not know my doubts. He threatens us. Should he be the one, he will take it all
and I never thought I’d see the day when taking it all included taking us. It
would not be easy, and it would not be over night but it would happen. If they
back him,” Xeoaph’s eyes flickered towards the watching shadow, “if they bow to
him... then I do not know,” he ended with a sigh.
       “Ah,” Ollivander said slowly. “You have realised that Vampires are not
the only dark.”
       “We are the dark,” Xeoaph said, with a show of force. “But just as the
light from a phoenix may be corrupted, so too may we be displaced. Ironic, we
are the ultimate dark but that doesn’t mean our position is secure.”
       Ollivander sighed as the shadow seemed to laugh. The conflicting beliefs
of others was something that both amazed, amused and sometimes confused him.
They were something he paid particular attention to though because in belief
lay the reason for action. The vampire’s belief that they were the true dark
was something that he knew about and he’d been hoping they’d grow out of it,
yet it seemed they were too young for that and that may be their downfall.
Yet... while Xeoaph was not prepared to give up his truth that the vampires
were pure dark, he was showing the beginnings of maturity in his ability to at
least reason out that they could be challenged. At least he knew that even if
you were the ultimate of something, that did not guarantee everything. That was
something true power knew, you did have to work at victory.
       “He is not the Shadow Lord,” Ollivander said softly. “He is not the
master nor is he the slave.”
       Xeoaph closed his eyes, nodding slightly. “Yet the one’s who served?”
       “They are of the shadows,” the silver eyed wand maker confirmed.
       “The shadows or their lord?”
       “They are of the shadows,” he repeated.
       “With such power I did not think it possible for them to be anything
else,” the vampire said quietly. “But confirmation is always appreciated.”
       “You have two choices,” Ollivander said, in much the same way as he had
explained to Narcissa. “You can fight them,” he laid out the first option.
“Given their current strength against your children’s relative power, I would
think you would need to contact more of the elders to stand with you, as you
already know, they will not go down without a fight.”
       The vampire nodded. Apparently this was something he knew. “Hence my
alliance with the Ministry. I am trying to contact the elders but they are...
deliberately I think, making themselves unreachable.”
       “You don’t seem concerned that they are here?” Ollivander questioned. He
had expected the vampire to cast some spell or demand they move somewhere
private.
       Xeoaph smiled. “This is nothing they do not already know,” he said. “And
my second choice?”
       The wand maker nodded slowly. “Given you have already raised your hand,
I do not know if this is an option for you, it may be though it will depend on
who you wish to fight. You can walk away. Dissolve your alliance, do nothing
more and walk away. Leave things as they are. The shadows I think would accept
that, I do not know if Voldemort would.”
       Xeoaph sighed. “No, that is not an option. This Dark Lord must fall and
now that you have confirmed for me, exactly what he said, I cannot look back. I
know the Shadow Lord but I do not know if he has the strength to be what is
necessary. I will not fail.
       Ollivander raised one eyebrow at the declaration before he spoke again.
“I offer one more piece of … advice,” he said.
       “Go on,” the vampire said.
       “They,” he indicated towards the shadow. “They do not care,” he said
with as much force as he could muster wondering exactly what game the shadows
had been playing. “So long as you do not stand in their way, they do not care.
That is the one truth that I know absolutely about them,” Ollivander said. “It
is Voldemort who will care about you with your alliance, and thus, you do have
the second option because they will not care and where they will not exert
themselves, thus will the Serpent Lord have to face you himself, and in that
battle, therein lies another possibility, one you abandon so long as you are
here.”
       “What of the Shadow Lord then?”
       “If you know him, then you already know the path he will follow,” the
wand maker said casually. Well, they’d know if anyone thought to ask.
       “I do know him but I am not certain if he has the will to do what is
necessary. A child he is, and a child he will be.”
       “He is of age.”
       Xeoaph laughed. “Only wizards could consider 16 to be of age! Even most
Muggle countries do not consider one to be of age for another two years or even
another five! He is a child, he is soft and uneducated but I guess I will have
no choice but to see to it that he develops the will to do the what is
necessary because I will not see my children bow to anyone, serpent, shadow or
light. First though the serpent needs to fall. Then will the shadows finally
fall into line because they will have no choice at their masters call.”
       Ollivander nodded, seeing now that he’d made an incorrect assumption.
The vampire didn’t fear the shadows, he feared the Dark Lord. To him the
shadows were nothing more than servants, useful, powerful but ones that would
be called to heel by the Light’s warrior. It was only the independent shadows,
those that served the Dark Lord that the vampire was concerned about and he
thought those could be circumvented easily enough. “They are bound to obey
their master.”
       “Then that will be enough,” Xeoaph said, seeming much more relaxed.
       “So, I ask again, what can I do for you?”
       “Your confirmation is enough. That they still have a master, that they
still have to obey that master. There are many questions about their master,
many doubts, but there are things on which he shall not have a choice and his
loyalty to the light is one. I will see to that and have these called to heel.
I thank you.”
       “Do not thank me for anything that you already knew. The path has not
yet been walked and paths may always diverge.”
       Xeoaph smiled. “Not when they are guided.”
       Ollivander chuckled, along with the shadows laughter and for a moment
the vampire looked concerned before the wand maker looked up solemnly, waving
his hand at the shadow who complied and hastily but ostentatiously exited the
room, no doubt to take up position on the door lintel on the other side, out of
sight yet not out of hearing. “They know if they don’t leave on the occasions I
want them to I’ll set up enough light that they can’t be here ever,” Ollivander
said by way of explanation before he turned serious.
       “Paths that are guided may still diverge. You must guide them and watch
them but not too heavily or they may diverge merely to escape. It requires work
and effort but that is something you are not afraid of. Voldemort is more than
the others, you are correct in your deductions there but he is not the Lord of
Shadows.”
       “That will be enough,” Xeoaph said with renewed confidence.
       “Voldemort you can work around, do not cross them though. As you believe
the Dark Lord is mortal, they though, remember forever and I believe one of the
first rules your master taught you was never to anger another immortal. I would
remind you of that now. There are more sides in this than you know who will yet
have a say in the outcome.”
       “You?”
       “No,” Ollivander said with more certainty than he felt, his mind going
back to the feather he had been given. “There is no need for me to break
neutrality. Vampires do not need my skills, I admit, unless they are like you,
who seeks to know both magics but you do occasionally need my advice and my
memory.”
       Xeoaph smiled. “We will not expect you to break your neutrality, nor
will we seek to interfere with your work,” he said formally. “We respect your
neutrality, we hope that you will respect our choices.”
       The wand maker started visibly.
       “What is it?” the vampire elder asked, suddenly concerned and certainly
showing more care than he would to any other save his kind.
       “Why that phrase?”
       “It seemed appropriate.”
       “Others have said the same to me.”
       “Then others are as wise as I.”
       Ollivander chuckled, the sound ending in a sharp intake of breath. “You
may not think that, but I thank you for the sentiment, so long as your choices
to not impinge upon me, I have no reason to interfere with you. Just remember
what I have said. They are not enemies you wish to make, and while it may seem
that you have, that is something you can chose to fix.”
       “That is always the way,” Xeoaph said rising. “Choice, yet sometimes
there is none,” he added as he stepped towards the door with a slight bow
towards the wand maker. “I thank you for your advice, but there are choices now
that cannot be undone and are not choices at all.” He disappeared and a few
moments later Ollivander heard the tinkle of his bell followed by the quiet
click of the lock as the Vampire relocked his door.
       As the shadow returned to the room, Ollivander looked back towards the
feather. “There is always a choice,” he murmured, wondering now if there really
was.
===
       Dumbledore looked over at his desk, resisting the urge to disappear his
paperwork. While most routine paperwork wrote and distributed itself, like the
invitations to attend Hogwarts other paperwork such as the training of members
of order of the Phoenix or overseeing the suggested training regime of
Aurors... that did not do itself. Plus there were various letters and
agreements he had to oversee as well as ensuing that the Ministry did not do
something stupid... As they almost had... many times.
       The old wizard sighed, feeling his age, he couldn’t prove that it was
Death Eater work but he suspected that many of the humanocentric bills that
were cunningly being put to the Ministry were the work of Death Eaters, either
to create the world they wanted or to drive the dark non-human forces to
Voldemort. It was rather frustrati9ng and would be solved if he took the
offered position as Minister... but taking such a position would preclude him
running The Order and that was more important.
       It was inferred often that he liked to operate from the shadows... not
so with Fawkes as a partner, he just preferred to work where he could do the
most good and that meant working with the children to ensure, in as much as was
possible that they did not repeat the mistakes of the past. That’s why he
stayed here and that’s why he continued to work with the Order of the Phoenix
to ensure that someone at least remembered and someone could try to redeem the
past. And he stayed here because everyone knew Hogwarts and saw it as a place
to rally to. Unfortunately though that also meant a lot of people knew where he
was and thus where to send owls to b other him, or they thought as the ‘mere’
headmaster he had more time to deal with their day to day pettiness.. Maybe he
should take that job...
       With an irritable flip of his wand, something that would never be seen
in public he sorted paperwork into several piles. He might be one o the most
powerful wizards of his generation but he could still use logic to sort his
mail. Thankfully those deemed urgent weren’t a distressingly large pile. Those
deemed reports... were though... as was correspondence meant to annoy.
       Though sitting on top of one of the piles was a short missive from
Sirius. The man had been understandably upset and had made a few less than
subtle threats if anything happened to Harry but he’d accepted his mission from
the Order and had left after spending a day or so with his godson. He was
currently travelling north and would contact as many non-human magical
creatures as he could. As an ambassador for the Order of the Phoenix there was
no one better suited to the role. His incarceration made him known, and despite
the fact that he was sometimes rash, the Black name was respected still and
known in some of the non-human communities. He was the only one they could
send. Of course for some of the non-humans they would have to be more specific.
the werewolves for example, they would have to rely on Remus and the Giants
wouldn’t come no matter how persuasive Sirius could be. He would either have to
send Hagrid or go himself for some of them.
       Another reason not to take the position of minister. He had too much
work that required his personal touch that simply could not be done if he was
the Minister of Magic. He’d promised Sirius that before Harry saw any real
combat he’d be an Auror, or inducted as one and that as much as possible they
would hold off until Sirius could be there. that last though... that was going
to be problematic but Albus know the canine animagus would hurry because of
that.
       The headmaster sat down, steepling his fingers. There was another reason
for sending Sirius. The man had spent the last years enclosed. Being in the
castle, being in one place, while he had controlled it well had been grating on
him. he still had some deep scars and the freedom of this mission would help
him heal, even though his help with dealing with the werewolves would be
greatly missed.
       Remus had been surprisingly adamant about the vampires and everything
Xeoaph had told him seemed to back up the werewolf. It was almost laughable
that the two sides hated each other yet they agreed on that. The order would
need them both though so he had to find some way of making them work
together... or at least some way of separating them so that they could be on
the same side. Perhaps that would work. Absolutely no joint missions for
werewolves and vampires but they could both be servants of the light... it was
something that bore thinking about. Of course the only real way to guarantee
the werewolves would be to completely change the Ministries rules on them and
while Dumbledore agreed they were rather unjust he could not see a way of
getting them changed, not even if he WAS the minister.
       He sighed, shaking his head as he considered but was interrupted by one
of the paintings.
       “Albus...” The picture was breathless and as he glanced up he could see
that their complexion was light. They were in shock.
       “You’d... you’d better get to the transfiguration class room... Now.”
The words were whispered but carried amazing strength... The painting held up
their hand, forestalling further questions. “Nothing is wrong...” Edrion
Astruia said, “Just you need to be there.” With an almost audible flop Edrion
sat back in their painted chair, picking up a large glass of whiskey and
downing it in one gulp.
       “What’s happened?”
       “he did it,” Edrion replied, pouring himself another glass. Edrion had
been the principle before he was a student but had been well respected and the
other paintings were all looking at him expectantly. it was as if they Knew
something was going on and were all present.
       “Who did?”
       “He did. He transformed.”
       “But nothing happened with the seeing potion,” Dumbledore objected. How
did he know what to transform into..?
       Edrion laughed. “That wouldn’t have been a problem. Just go, you will
understand when you see it.”
       Dumbledore picked up his wand as Edrion downed another glass then took a
swig from the still almost full bottle. “you once said that the most
interesting students where those who surprised you,” the painting said as the
gargoyle rolled back. “There is such a thing as too much surprise though,” was
Edrion’s parting words as Dumbledore descended the stairs hastily.
===
       McGonagall looked over at her student. He was slightly restive today
which was odd given the usual attentiveness he had been giving her and his
other teachers over the summer. They’d quickly worked out a routine for young
Harry. An intensive routine but one that would have him read as soon as
possible.
       She didn’t really like that bit, even if she understood. This training
would make him a better wizard but it was a better combat wizard.
       She stifled a sigh as she turned her attention back to her student.
Perhaps they were both restive today or perhaps she should have him do his
combat training in the morning so that he would be settled in the afternoon or
at least be physically tired and less fidgety. Though looking at the clear
skies and bright sunshine she couldn’t blame him today.
       “Profession?” Harry’s voice was soft as he looked up from his parchment.
       “Yes, Mr Potter?” Despite this being a class of one she maintained the
correct protocols.
       “Could we do the animagus studies earlier today?”
       Minerva blinked in genuine surprise.
       Harry was remarkably adept with all of his studies, something they had
understood once Dumbledore had told them about the Dark Lords gift but this was
one thing he’d been... shying away from. He wasn’t afraid, she could tell that,
it was just reluctance on his part. He had been dutifully studying and
performing her tests but just under the surface there had been a reluctance,
something subtle and formless. Rather than be disappointed at his reticence she
had been happy. the day he mastered the animagus transformation would be a big
step closer to having to pronounce him fit for combat. Not something she was
looking forward to.
       “Of course Mr Potter,” she replied immediately, rescheduling their
lesson mentally. “Which part would you like to try first?”
       The animagus section of the lesson was broken into several parts - the
spell, the actual transformation, transforming back and of course what to do
while in animagus form. the last two sections had by force been merely
theoretically and she honestly wasn’t certain if there was a practical combat
use for most animagi... Unless of course he transformed into something
predatory.
       And therein lay another small hiccup in his training.
       They’d requested a seeing potion from Severus and Harry had taken it but
to the surprise and some alarm nothing had happened. Sirius had been one of the
few who had just shrugged and then relayed a story about James. “Just runs in
the family,” is all he’d commented before dismissing the matter. Others had not
been so blaise and had questions the need for animagus training. Thankfully
both Harry and Dumbledore had backed her up, both agreeing that the training
had more applications than just the transfiguration of self.
       Which of course it did.
       Transfiguration was a powerful combat technique and Mr Potter would need
it and every other technique he was learning this summer if he wanted to
survive. Practice too but he was getting that in the combat training in the
afternoons. The only problem was he didn’t need all this training if he wanted
to live.
       And that’s where the dilemma lay.
       He should be living, not merely surviving, not fighting those enemies
breed by the previous generations. Minerva suppressed a sigh, turning her
introspection back to her student as he replied with a smile.
       “All of it,” he said. “I want to try it again please. You have already
taught me pretty much everything in the realm of practical transfiguration and
while I know I’ve also got the esoteric stuff, that can be awoken later. It’s
the practical knowledge that’s necessary now and the animagus transformation is
the last thing. I know you don’t’ want it but we have no choice at the moment.”
       “Indeed, your understanding and acceptance of the situation puts the
rest of us to shame. Very well then,” Minerva said as she cleared the desks
away with a wave of her wand.
       Harry came to stand in the centre of the room, and he looked at her
earnestly. “I thought about it last night, and this is not the time to hold
back or to be nervous. Either I will be able to do this or I won’t be and that
will be that. If I can’t do it today, then I won’t be able to do it until
later, if at all.”
       “Later?”
       “Later, when I’m more at peace with the notion of not being human,”
Harry summarised the fears of many a wizard succinctly.
       “You will always be human,” the Gryffindor Headmistress said softly.
“The transfiguration takes nothing for that, and is merely a shift in physical
form, not in anything else.”
       “I know and we have discussed if it is the mind, the body or the soul
that makes humans human, and while it is agreed and I agree too that it is more
than the physical form that makes a human a human, that fear is still strong
and instinctual.”
       “Indeed,” Minerva agreed. There wasn’t much more but to agree. They had
discussed the morality of the situation as well as the ethics and had touched
upon the body of work that was available in the wizarding world about the
religious aspects of the animagus transformation as well as briefly touching on
a few Muggle works. Harry had shown a remarkable grasp of the principles and
they had enjoyed several long theoretical arguments about the nature of
wizardry in regards to the animagus transformation. If anything the young Mr
Potter understood the principles and the prevailing beliefs better than the
Ministry themselves did. The Ministry regarded the animagus transformation as
nothing more than the indication of a truly skilled witch or wizard using their
magic on themselves. Their interest was merely in keeping control by
registering animagus forms so that any transgressions could be noted and
controlled and appropriate punishments, if required, also enforced. They cared
nothing for the other issues that may come with the transformation. Harry had
and it had been another proud moment, tinged with guilt when he had brought
them up. A few of this other teachers had also had similar discussions, not
about animagi but about other moral and ethical considerations of magic that
most never bothered to think about. All of his teachers were proud and all
shared the same fear.
       “So either I do it or I don’t,” he said with a smile that reminded her
of his father so much it was uncanny. “And today I’ve decided that I will do.”
He closed his eyes, tilting his face up to the light as his expression took on
a look of peace and concentration.
       The Gryffindor house leader watched with a feeling of anticipation
building. There was something different about this attempt, something more
powerful and she could almost feel her cat form rising at the power young Harry
was displaying.
       Something skittered at the corner of her vision and Minerva blinked
carefully as she looked back to her student. Somehow the room seemed lighter
than it had been a minute ago and with a start she realised that the ever
present shadows that had been there all summer were now absent. She honestly
didn’t know if that was good or bad but Harry didn’t seem to notice, his
attention was so firmly turned inward that the reanimated corpse of Fudge
himself could have come through the door in a pink tutu and he wouldn’t have
noticed.
       That, she was definitely going to have to work on. While Harry would get
better in time with paying attention to his surroundings while making the
change, and with enough practice the change would be almost instantaneous for
the moment he would need to be aware always of his surrounds. The air around
him seemed to shimmer as he hovered on the verge of the actual change and
McGonagall held her breath. He’d gotten this far before but now could he make
that final step...
       :You’re all safe?:
       :Yes, master.:
       :I’m a little amused you know, that you need to do this.:
       :In time, master, we will be accustomed to you but you are very powerful
and this is better.:
       :I’d never hurt you.:
       :We know master and we could endure it now, but for so long with so
little, we are unaccustomed to your power. That is something though master, we
wish to change as fast as possible.:
       Harry smiled as his servants gave him a mental caress, reassuring him
and showing him without words that they would in time not shy from him in his
animagus form that they would in time revel in the power it represented for
them. There was also unspoken the intriguing image that they did not wish to
get sick... as if a shadow could get sick. But implied in that image were
echoes of humanity. They had fasted for centuries, the abundance he represented
now, while yearned for, would if not controlled properly cause them harm. Not
irreversible but they would for a time be so glutted that they would be close
to useless. Neither he nor they wanted that so they hid now, hovering only on
the edge of awareness. They would endure his full power when required but when
they could avoid it, for now, they would. He sent them back a wordless burst of
understanding as he fixed his shape in mind and willed his power to flow.
       Last night, when he’d been thinking about this, he’d decided that he
would not show his full form. He’d be a Halfling, the physical representation
of a tenshi without their blinding power, at least for now. If he had to go
further in future, then it would be easy to explain that his mind had shied
away from the sheer power and the loss of all physical form. After all a tenshi
was a being so wrapped up in myth that most wizards didn’t even know about
them. Muggles knew more but their representation had a far different
connotation on it though he’d wondered sometimes about the truth. It was one of
the things he really wanted to talk to his beloved about but couldn’t yet. He
was sure their speculation would be both challenging and entertaining.
       With a flash he changed. The edges of light forming a barrier that
shattered almost like feathers, falling away and disappearing as the shadows
grabbed greedily at the disembodied power. His wings reflected the power,
blindingly white for a moment before a kernel of an idea came to him and he
willed them to change, darkening to a deep charcoal, almost black. Another mark
of a reduction in power. Colour was only a representation of intent, the more
pure the colour the stronger the intent but it would not be hard to convince
the wizards that the darker colour was because he was physically unable to
sustain the higher power consumption he would imply was necessary for white
wings. While Minerva had been discrete he had caught her concern for him, her
fear of what the wizards would do at his power. It was touching that she cared
and if she would not stand aside for her teaching and for her genuine, though
sometimes remote care, he would give her what mercy he could though he hoped it
wouldn’t come to that. She was a good teacher, one who should be there to guide
future generations. While his servants had assured him that no wizard would be
able to challenge his power, until he declared himself openly, he did not need
to be considered untouchable.
       There was a soft plumphf’ as McGonagall fell back into her chair, her
eyes wide with disbelief. The expression did not suit the usually confident
woman. “Ha... Harry!” she finally managed the soft call.
       He grinned at her, slowly uncurling his fingers before his talons bit
into his skin as his servants swarmed towards him, making the shadows on his
robes deeper, and giving him an amplified sense of presence. :Stop that,: he
chided them gently.
       They giggled in return but did not cease their movement around him. :
When you are like this, master, we are one. It would be best for them to know
that now.:
       “I knew I could do it,” Harry said aloud, reaching out to pull one wing
down to his face to examine it. “But, Professor... I never knew animagus forms
could talk... or were ... well...?” He let the question trail off in an artful
display of confusion.
       “No,” Minvera faltered slightly but her voice firmed as she looked over
him. “They are meant to be an animal... not... not this. I didn’t...”
       “So, what am I?”
       “You are something I thought to be mythical,” she replied, her lecturing
voice coming through automatically when asked a question by a student. “And
perhaps they still are.”
       “Professor?”
       “I don’t...” disbelief once again reared up in Minerva, choking the
denial she was uttering.
       “You are a tenshi, Harry,” a strong male voice came from the door, one
that sounded inordinately pleased and proud, “Or as much of one as any human
can be.”
       “A tenshi, Headmaster?” Harry asked, turning, lowering one wing
automatically so he could look over it at the wizened man who was grinning
happily, his eyes sparkling with renewed strength. Already the Headmaster was
working out what this would mean for the future and harry could see that he was
pleased, very pleased as new possibilities opened up.
       “The mythical form the muggles would call an Angel, but we wizards would
call a Lord of Magic.”
       “Oh.”
       As his innocent self once again took control that was all Harry could
mutter before the world went black and he didn’t even feel the stone floor rush
up to meet him.
 
 
 
***** Making Pathways *****
Weapon
Chapter 15 Making Pathways
===
       Remus sat back watching Harry breath as he slept, his face a mask of
contentment. He was still in his animagus form which had made navigating
through some of the more narrow doorways rather interesting when they'd shifted
him back to the infirmary. He smiled, wondering if it was even possible for
this secret to be kept. Albus had confirmed that Harry was simply tired from
his transformation and after seeing that the young man was comfortably settled
he'd bustled off to attend to Order business.
       Remus had agreed to watch him. Sirius hadn't asked, he hadn't needed to
ask but Remus had agreed never the less to watch over Harry in his absence. As
if there was much choice. He was not about to let Lily and James' child wander
off alone. The Marauders' just didn't do that. So it was that he sat there,
admiring the soft sheen of each feather as Harry slept, wondering about the
future.
       There was a chance of keeping this secret, the werewolf decided.
       The Vampires didn't know. There was no reason to tell the Ministry.
There was no reason to tell either, especially if this could be passed off as
Harry trying too hard in the change.
       After all, it wasn't as if the animagus transformation was essential or
common and it was one of those bits of magic that was mastered only later in
life, if the wizard or witch was interested in that type of thing. Completing
it, while still in school was unheard of. Present company excepted of course.
The Ministry wasn't really a problem. They'd either be told or not. It was the
Vampires that were more concerning. Would Dumbledore tell them? Would he decide
they didn't need to know.
       It was easier speculating about the vampires and Dumbledore's handling
of them than thinking about those things he had to... though his mind was too
quick tonight to settle or to be distracted.
       Albus was off planning with the vampires, probably some combined strike
on some unimportant target. They were all unimportant. Until the battle against
Voldemort himself, none of the targets were really bothering him. The
compromises and the communications between the Vampires and the Ministry
worried him... far more than he let on. It was not a good precedent and if this
worked, how long would it be before Werewolves were declared anathema merely
because they had not yet stated their loyalty to a Ministry that scored and
persecuted them. The Order knew the price that would bring the Werewolves but
it never seemed to be quite important enough for them to work on.
       He'd asked Albus about it and had expected an answer but today was
obviously Harry's day. Not that he minded this delay but the others... they
were grating and it was becoming harder and harder for him to really see why he
should wait, why they should wait for the Ministry to perhaps repeal their
laws. The longer it took, the harder it would be to convince the Gathering, and
the less he found himself wanting to convince them.
       He shook his head. No. The only way for werewolves to be accepted was
through the law. They had seen the other paths... they knew the other paths.
The Ministry knew the other paths but they never seemed to remember that they
had a role in forcing the werewolves to them. Why was it so hard to treat them
as human? It wasn't as if most of the werewolves wanted to be what they were or
wanted to hurt anyone. But they were pushed to that. A few, of course, took
that path voluntarily and while Remus hated their actions, he couldn't bring
himself to condemn them utterly. They though, the werewolves who voluntarily
followed the Dark Lord, were another worry. It was all too easy to see how
their mere presence would be used to persecute all of them. But those
werewolves were also a part of the pack and contributed to the wellbeing of the
pack, often generously and mostly without reciprocation. Every now and then
they did ask that some of the others come to serve the Dark Lord but when that
happened they were reminded that the choice to serve was made by the
individual. Because the pack had not chosen the path of dark.
       Yet.
       Remus snorted softly to himself. That 'yet' was telling and the pressure
was growing. Those Death Eater werewolves didn't have to say a thing. They
continued to serve the pack and continued to serve the Dark Lord, and that was
enough for most to see that serving the Dark Lord, while perhaps against their
personal inclination, gave them a purpose, a future, let them contribute to the
wellbeing of the pack, let them feel useful. That feeling of worthlessness was
something he understood far too well. He'd felt it when the news came through
about Lily and James and when he'd watched Sirius dragged away. The little he'd
done, keeping the canine animagus' wand safe, was pathetic yet it was all he
could do. The fight against the feeling of worthlessness was why he had taken
up the position of pack leader, why he continued to work with Dumbledore and
the Order to influence the Ministry, why he continued to try for the
werewolves... oh yes, he knew that feeling and he knew how much the pack
suffered from it, how many it had broken.
       He glanced over as Harry stirred, unconsciously moving his wings to wrap
them around himself tighter, smoothing the feathers with an absent hand before
he feel back into slumber.
       The Gathering was after the next moon. And before he went, he would have
to sort out his feelings. All the Pack Leaders would. Or else they would risk
indecision at a time when they couldn't, because if they couldn't come to a
decision - any decision - then it was all too easy to know what would happen. 
Those werewolves serving the Dark Lord would continue to serve, the Ministry
would continue to use them as an excuse to avoid repealing their laws, and
eventually some newspaper or ambitious Ministerial hack would get a hold of one
of the Dark Lord's servants and would then use them to illustrate the evil
nature of all werewolves, probably with some over dramatized photos of them
biting innocent Muggles. No, this time they had to make a decision, they
couldn't just let things coast along as they had during the last rise of the
Dark Lord. For good or ill, they would have to make a stand and publically
announce it. At the very least that should mean that Ministry could see that
there were differences in the werewolves and that not all of them served the
Dark Lord because even if the pack turned that way, there would be those who
served the light - in some manner. Though, if the pack did decide to serve the
Dark Lord, there was the possibility of sanctioned extermination... That
argument had stayed the call to openly support Dark Lords in the past. Remus
wasn't sure if it would hold now though... not with the Vampires serving the
Ministry.
       Which of course left the fourth option or the third, depending on if you
counted making no decision to be a fair option. Option one; serve the Ministry
- unlikely without changes in how things were. Option two; serve the Dark Lord.
This was increasingly likely with the Ministry's continued indifference and the
Order's alliance with the Vampires. Option three; do nothing. The path they
were very familiar with, had tried many times in the past,  and allowed those
werewolves serve as they would, while the whole declared no loyalty. It was a
choice but this time, it was unlikely to be adequate. Option four; the new
comer, the unknown power - a power that was prepared to give surety.
       Remus shivered, remembering his meeting with that power's
representative. They represented a dark path, that was certain, but it was not
the darkness of the Dark Lord. It was something else but was it evil, was it
just dark or was it something else entirely? Did it even matter? 
       Surety. Remus knew that that was what the rest of his folk would focus
on. For once they would have someone to blame when things went wrong, for once
they would be able to strike back.
       But would surety matter if the Ministry won? Would surety matter if the
Dark Lord won? Would going down that path be the same as doing nothing or would
it be viable choice? It was a path. After meeting with the representative he
knew that much, it was a path but was it the best path? That was the question
he had to answer now. Their representative had been convincing without being
over bearing and the last part of their conversation had shown... Lupin frowned
as he considered the feeling. It was true. Yes, the last part had shown
humanity. They offered the most tantalizing and appealing path, at least for
him but would the others be able to see that, would they embrace that hope?
       Remus blinked then smiled in contentment.
       All that worry and he'd made his decision after all.
       Though to convince the others he'd need some proof.
       And he knew exactly what that would be.
===
       Iavor suppressed the urge to curl his lip in disgust. The things the
Ministry was allowing these days was enough to make any normal wizard scream in
frustration yet he did nothing of the sort. He sat there, day after day, and
smiled and nodded and felt sicker and sicker and more and more ashamed of
himself with every non-human that went past that he did nothing about. Every
application, every bit of paper bearing the mark of a non-human he'd processed,
was just the same as the others. Because that was all he could do since he
couldn't scream out his true feelings.
       But this latest thing... he was very close to just getting up and
walking away... except with the Dark Lord out there he had nothing to walk to.
       He'd never been very good at History. Binns had bored him, as he had
most other people in their year level but even he did remember the grinding
tedium and hundreds of years’ worth of history with the goblins. And precious
few of those years had been peaceful. Vampires, Iavor could stretch to
accepting and the Ministry was rumoured to be running some joint tasks with
them. Vampires had after all once been human for the most part. Hell, he'd even
accept werewolves! Again they had once been human but goblins...
       The Ministry just expected everyone to forget the past, forget their
thieving, treacherous ways and just accept and give the goblins an equal part
in the magical world! It was enough to make him scream. But he stamped the
forms and sat there, smiling inanely as he worked, his mind seething with
frustration he dared not voice.
       Their supervisor had made it very clear that this was a Ministry
Directive coming from the highest levels backed by the Order of the Phoenix. A
small shiver passed through him as he considered the legendary group.  The
Order was something everyone knew of but nothing more. They had existed for
centuries, so it was rumoured, open only to the best and the brightest and the
strongest of Wizards and while they worked with the Ministry they had their own
bases, their own rules and their own authority. They seldom stepped into the
light but they existed, guiding, whispering advice, overseeing Wizarding
society.
       Up until now, Iavor had always assumed they had been working towards a
balanced Wizarding world, one where they were still hidden from Muggles but
otherwise free to do what they wanted. This latest thing, with them embracing
the Goblins, insisting that they were equal now left him doubting. Except for
the edict about Goblins, the edict that bore the official seal of the Ministry
and was posted up on their information board, all else was pure rumour,
speculation. Interesting, but unfounded. Though it left him doubting, left him
wanting to know what else he could be doing.
       His father always said he accepted things too easily as a Hufflepuff,
that he just went along with the flow without considering. Well... time to do
some considering, Iavor thought as he began stamping a new stack of papers, not
even seeing the names beyond vaguely noting that they were things like
Fiddlechop Hamlock... a definite Goblin name.
       The Ministry had been caught by surprise by the Dark Lord and it was
only the action of Lucius Malfoy that had saved the day. The Ministry had
neither confirmed nor denied that Malfoy had been a rebel Death Eater and that
his wife and son were also being circumspect in their dealings with the media,
who was only too happy to proclaim the Malfoy patriarch to be a rebel Death
Eater.
       So if they'd been caught by surprise, what did that mean?
       It meant that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had moved at a pace that the
Ministry had been unprepared for, that he was stronger than they thought and
that...
       That they needed all the allies they could get.
       Iavor suppressed a shudder, forcing himself to continue stamping the
papers in unison with the others. There'd been a tension in the Ministry
lately, since the attack but he'd assumed it was merely because they'd been
attacked directly. What if it was something more, what if it was because they
were truly afraid of losing? What if it was because the Ministry was holding on
to order by a thread?
       Now where did that leave him?
       Up the proverbial creek.
       Never let it be said that a Hufflepuff couldn't be eloquent, insightful
and concise on occasion.
       It left him stuck in this dead end job, stamping papers bearing the
names of any non-human who could make a mark as the Ministry whored themselves
to anyone who might give them power in the hope that they could hold off the
Dark Lord. It meant that one day he'd probably see instead of Greythorp Idamin,
one of the most bureaucratically inclined wizards Iavor had ever had the
misfortune to meet, but who was still human, some goblin with an
unpronounceable name giving the orders in the department and he'd be surrounded
by anything with a hoof or a claw, slobbering and grunting and stamping.
       This time he did shudder but his stamp never missed a beat and his mind
seemed to fly as it considered options.
       Firstly, the Ministry had offered the Goblins equality with wizards.
That couldn't be undone and they would provide a viable fighting force, one
that could spearhead any campaign and take heavy losses. Hopefully, that was
what the Ministry intended all along.
       Secondly, a further treaty or an update to the existing treaty with the
Vampires was almost certainly signed off or about to be signed off. There was
nothing he, a mere clerk, could do about that.
       Thirdly, other species could be expected to sign on, especially if there
were no visible problems with the integration of the vampires and goblins.
Veela, Giants, centaurs, werewolves... the list was almost endless. The
Ministry would be so busy dealing with the frictions between races that they
wouldn't get anything done. Not that they were that efficient anyway but this
would reduce the efficiency to close to zero and wizards and witches would just
fall to the wayside.  No doubt, institutions such as Hogwarts would be expected
to educate the non-humans as well... leaving less and less space to the humans.
       Those were things he could not change. And quite possibly he'd never be
in a position where he could change them. Certainly not in the next few years.
A year ago he would have raged about that. Today, he just shrugged it off as
reality. He could however, give out information about his job more freely, just
gossip more regularly, something he'd been reluctant to do when asked in the
pub as he enjoyed a butterbeer after work. And he could make sure that any
nonhuman paperwork that went past him that was not filled out correctly was
rejected.
       Neither of those would do much good though, he concluded somewhat glumly
and rejecting the paperwork was particularly petty. There had to be something
else.
       You could join the Dark Forces.
       The suggestion came from deep within his mind, so deep he wasn't sure he
heard it. He considered it dispassionately, moving two to three reports into
his file for 'Reconsideration' when he noticed their applicant's names and a
few small discrepancies within the writing. He could join the Dark Forces, he
acknowledged. But what would that do really?
       He'd still be in this job. If called to fight, he'd likely be dead. He
was a good wizard but not that good especially in combat. That was more a
Gryffindor or Slytherin calling. He'd still be in this job, still working the
same hours, processing the same information...
       Information.
       His office dealt with it incessantly. It was all they did. They
transferred applications for almost everything to various Wizarding
departments. Applications to research, applications for permits to build,
applications for thestral ownership, griffon ownership, applications to open
businesses, to transport goods, to travel overseas, everything. It was a truism
that if you filled out of a bit of paper, at some stage somehow it would come
through his department.
       He could give that information to the Dark Forces. How many non-humans
were called to muster, how many were issued with what equipment, were now
legally allowed to practice their so called trades in the open, how many were
helping the Ministry.
       And in return... in return, what did he want?
       His mind almost chuckled as it replied to his internal question. He
wanted the wizards back where they should be - in control, in charge, not
dealing or negotiating with the goblins or vampires or any other non-human. Not
having to seek support for anything. Goblins, vampires, werewolves, Veela...
all of them were a part of the magical world but none of them should be allowed
to rise above their place.  And their place was serving or otherwise providing
education to wizards as they went about their ways, in their own communities,
own environments that did not impose upon Wizard or Muggle societies. So how
did he join the Dark Forces?
       Let them find me, he answered his own question again. Just go to the
pub, gossip as usual, though perhaps let slip a few more comments about wizard
superiority and they would find him. Probably not immediately but it would
happen. After all with the Ministry busy scrambling around seeking support,
that implied that the Dark Forces had already recruited, had already put in
position their means for support. All he had to do was let the right people
find him.
       And they would.
===
       Elliot ground his teeth in frustration, looking down at the layout of
tomorrow's front page with the screaming headline 'EXPOSED'.
       This was going to be bad. This was going to be very bad but no one in
the paper had believed him. No one really cared. All they were seeing was the
instant reaction of the wizards and the sales this would generate.
       He'd tried to stop the Editor. The Order knew he'd tried to explain but
the man seemed almost possessed and was certainly determined. And it wasn't the
determination of one under Imperio, it was the determination of one who saw
accolades pending and didn't want to consider reality, didn't want to consider
the consequences, one who didn't even see the consequences. He'd gotten word to
Dumbledore but even Albus hadn't been able to think of a way of preventing
this. Not without knowing how it had happened.
       And that was the one thing no one was talking about.
       No one was talking about how Wilbur O'Haresh, the dependable, stock
standard reporter who's crowning achievement in his career so far had been
correctly predicting that the knut would actually rise against the riven with
the confirmation that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had returned, in other words,
the Prophet's economic hack writer, had not only been able to find but had been
able to confirm that an as yet unnamed Ministry official was not only a
werewolf but one sworn to the service of the Dark Lord. Yet the photographs
kindly provided by the Aurors and blazoned under the headline were conclusive
and unarguable for all that they covered the werewolves face, his Ministry mark
on his robes was clearly visible, as was the Dark Mark on this hitched up
sleeve.
       Whoever he was, he'd been caught, his Dark Mark revealed and he'd stood
for the photograph with a sense of arrogant assurance. It was in the stance,
this man, this Death Eater wasn't resigned to his fate now that he was caught.
It was almost like the picture of Sirius Black, published all those years ago,
laughing as he stood holding the card with his prison numbers. This wasn't the
same, the werewolf wasn't insane but was coldly calculating and assured of his
might. He really was one of those werewolves that took pleasure in his work and
had been quoted as saying during interrogation, 'I'm just the first. Soon all
of us will serve him.'
       This was going to be very, very bad and Elliot couldn't help but wonder
if the Dark Lord had set this up. Remus had made his position clear to the
Order. The Werewolves wanted equality before they could serve with the Ministry
but the presence of the Vampires was straining them, was pushing them towards
the Dark Lord, though as a whole they had not yet made a decision. Once Lupin
had explained why the werewolves hated the vampires, it had made rather too
much sense that they could not just throw in with the Ministry, though their
previous history did not help matters.
       But this.
       No matter that this man was a proven Death Eater, no matter that he had
undoubtedly been doing He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's work, the manner of his
exposure, arrest and the subsequent press and backlash against the werewolves,
Elliot didn't see any way that they would be coming in on to the Ministry side
this time. Short of absolute full equality and some very harsh laws
guaranteeing that equality, laws that were actually supported by the Aurors,
something few of them would have the courage to do... Something the Ministry
didn't have the courage to do…
       Yeah... the chances of that happening… The Muggle phrase a 'snowflakes
chance in hell' sprang to mind rather readily. No, the Ministry would not offer
the werewolves anything like that. They couldn't, not after this. In fact, most
wizards would want the werewolves to abase themselves and beg for acceptance
after this. They wouldn't care, they wouldn't see that this was a media play,
designed to create fear and that it wasn't the werewolves fault. But most
wizards wouldn't care. They would see the non-human side and blame all of them,
make all of them accountable. Never mind that such a standard was never applied
to wizards. Never mind that werewolves were human for ninety five percent of
the time and that most went to extreme lengths to ensure that they did not and
could not hurt anyone for the five percent of the time when they had no control
over their actions. After all this press, that would mean less than nothing to
most wizards.
       The werewolves might possibly be able to declare neutrality but even if
they did, that would just make most wizards believe that they were all Death
Eater's anyway. So neutrality may just be an option that was synonymous with
destruction. Slower perhaps, especially if they were vocal about their
neutrality and especially if the Order could perhaps show Remus helping out in
significant ways but it would still be a path of non-acceptance and most
wizards would twist neutrality into the werewolves hiding the fact that they
supported the Dark Lord, would twist it into some attempt of the werewolves
trying to play both sides. That would be a very readily drawn conclusion,
especially if other non-humans came in to support the Ministry and the Order,
especially if the vampires had any say in the matter. And after they'd served
on a few more missions, Elliot knew that Xeoaph would no doubt be willing to
talk to the media. A few stilted phrases at first, but the vampire could be
personable when he wanted, charming, logical and no doubt he'd take more than a
bit of pleasure in taunting the werewolves, in pointing out that they weren't
helping the wizards when the vampires, traditional enemies of wizards had put
aside their dislike enough to counter the greater evil. Elliot could see all
too clearly how that would unfold.
       Which left the werewolves in an unenviable position; unable to support
the Ministry with any degree of fairness or equality for themselves and unable
to declare neutrality without it being construed as support for the Dark Lord.
And potentially, Elliot prayed, unwilling to support the Dark Lord.
       Though the way things were going 'unwilling to support' may soon be
replaced by 'have to support' and when the Order won, Elliot knew exactly where
that would leave the werewolves but right at the moment he couldn't see a whole
lot of choice for them. Maybe Remus would, maybe Albus would, maybe anyone
would but right at the moment Elliot couldn't see any choice.
       He looked around the office at the radiant faces of his fellow
journalists as they sought to congratulate Wilbur on a great article and an
amazing bit of investigative journalism and he sighed, slipping his wand back
into its holster in the small of his back, before moving unobtrusively to the
door. As he pushed his punch card into the reader, hearing it click loudly,
Elliot heard the Editor laugh, his voice showing no concern, no worry, only
triumph.
       He needed a drink.
===
       "They're efficient, aren't they?" Kisha asked, watching the scene play
out on the battle table, the little illusions showing everything that had
transpired at one of the Dark Lord's supposed safe places.
       "After the scare I gave them, they have plenty of incentive," the Dark
Lord Voldemort replied in an offhand manner, but she was astute enough to pick
up the hint of an edge in his voice.
       He might be pretending that his last attack was not for real but that
defeat had cost dearly and rankled deeply. "This will affect morale," she said,
skirting the issue.
       "It will, they all do." Again the Dark Lord showed surprising candour in
his response. "But this won't cost as much as the Atrium, and while that was a
defeat in that I did not win the Ministry, I won something far more valuable
there."
       "Oh, what?" Kisha giggled internally. While this Dark Lord was
interesting and was slightly different from those of the past, he still said
much the same lines as they all did and trying to pass off a defeat as a
victory was just one of them, no matter how close that defeat had been.
       "You," Voldemort replied, smiling through the lie, as he sensed Kisha's
true thoughts. Vampire Elder she might be, controlled as she might be, but some
things she broadcast to the world to see, once you knew how to read her. And
while she had centuries to learn to control herself, she hadn't had much need
to practice while he had decades of study in reading people, decades in which
his ability had to be perfect or he risked destruction.
       She preened under the flattery. Despite everything, she was still female
and while she didn't believe the flattery, his response was believable when
examined from her point of view. She assumed he'd had his alliance with the
shadows cemented much earlier. She assumed a lot of things she should be
checking but didn't.
       "Shall I tell you my counter to the Order's little skirmishes?"
       "Please do," Kisha purred, as Voldemort flicked his wand through a small
series of turns, changing the display on the tactical table to his next
intended target and the vectors of attack he had determined to be optimal for
his objective.
       "Oh my," she whispered almost reverentially.
       "Indeed," he smiled, "And while it would be a nice opportunity to reveal
you, my dear, I do believe it's too early so I'm going to insist that you watch
but don't play this time. I don't expect many vampires to be present anyway."
       Kisha laughed a little, watching the scenario play through again. This
attack wasn't about domination or slaughter or gaining ground, it was about
propaganda, presence and destroying Ministry morale while raising the Dark
Forces and it would accomplish those goals admirably. She would of course warn
Xeoaph, but as the first real attack plans the Dark Lord had included her on,
this attack could not fail, not completely, not unless something truly
unexpected happened. That would make the battle that much more tense but it
would also make the outcome that much more satisfying.
       "So then, the initial attack will be head on and even if the Order is
expecting it, the two flanking squads can rally to ensure the first attack
succeeds. Once that happens I expect a few minutes of confusion before we start
taking return fire..." The Dark Lord paused, the images he was manipulating
freezing mid attack as he turned to face the Death Eater who had apparated into
the room.
       Kisha thought for a moment that the Dark Lord would strike at the
intruder, but a moment later she noticed him relax as he took in the subtle
markings on the robes. Only a few Death Eater's had the authority and the
audacity to dare to interrupt their Master and only a few had the ability and
the appropriate clearances enter this room uninvited but even so she doubted
that the Dark Lord appreciated the interruption or the potential leak in plans.
       "What is it, Bonning?"
       The Death Eater stirred, rising slightly from the kneeling position they
had taken upon entering the room but never rising to their feet. "My Lord, we
have confirmed that Gideon Prayleor has been taken into custody."
       "Are you sure?"
       "Yes, my Lord. The Prophet will bear the news tomorrow, declaring him to
be a werewolf Death Eater, loyal unto death to you. He did not go willingly."
       Voldemort nodded, eyes narrowed as he considered the implications. In
terms of him recruiting the werewolves this was not a bad thing, though in
terms of security it was not a good thing. Gideon had missed several meetings
of his cell without notification, without cause, thus the order had been given
to find him. Given that the Ministry had to know that revealing Gideon as a
werewolf Death Eater would practically guarantee him the werewolves loyalty,
especially with the Order's dealings with the vampires, it was a safe
assumption that this wasn't a play or a betrayal. The mere report that he did
not go willingly was never enough to convince the Dark Lord. "They are keeping
him in a standard anti-werewolf cell?"
       "Yes, my Lord," Bonning's voice remained neutral but he was calmed by
his Master's calm acceptance of the situation.
       "Then I will speak with Gideon later to let him know how he may still
serve," the Dark Lord said confidently, dismissing the importance of the matter
in his subordinates mind, creating that air of calm assurance that was
necessary to lead. "What further news do you bring?"
       Bonning was a squad captain, which meant he oversaw several cells and
reported their actions back to his Master. He was like most of the other squad
captains. He was senior within the ranks of Voldemort's regular Death Eaters,
though his name was one that was being considered for promotion to his elite.
Bonning knew that though because he knew the privileges he had; however he did
not truly appreciate how far down the ranking scale it was. He would, once he
became Elite and he would renew his loyalty with fervour when he realised that
his Master had trusted him enough to make him Elite. Bonning's cells though
contained most of the werewolves that had pledged their loyalty to Voldemort
and Bonning was one of the few wizards who saw their ability as a strength
rather than a weakness, a strength he could exploit in battle to further his
position. The werewolves accepted that, but what made Bonning useful was that
the werewolves also reported that he did not treat them as animals and that
made them loyal to Bonning, as well as loyal to the Dark Lord, especially after
Voldemort had made sure that the werewolves were aware that his inclination was
to treat them as wizards but as wizards with great combat potential, which
meant better rewards. Gideon had been in one of Bonning's cells.
       "It's been confirmed, my Lord, there will be a full Gathering after the
next moon."
       "A Gathering?" Voldemort asked.
       Bonning stirred, glancing between the Dark Lord and the vampire elder
that watched on silently and Voldemort smiled to himself when Bonning spoke
again, his loyalty to the Dark Lord stronger than his loyalty to his soldiers.
He would be rewarded for that and soon.
       "The werewolves told me that a Gathering is when their pack leaders meet
to decide what path the werewolves should take. They are not held often as
there is seldom a need for a decision that affects all of them and they were
reluctant to hold one as the last one saw the death of most of the pack leaders
when it was ambushed by Ministry forces. You might recall, my Lord that the
werewolves openly supported Grindlewald. That was a result of the last
Gathering," Bonning gave the explanation and history he had been given.
       "They have group leaders?" Kisha breathed, intrigued. Werewolves were so
fragmented and shunned that she didn't think they would have been able to
maintain any sort of structure.
       "Not many," Bonning replied after Voldemort gestured that he should
answer. "And none with the authority to do more than strongly suggest, though
what the Gathering decides, most werewolves will follow."
       "Will those who report to you follow the Gathering?" The Dark Lord asked
pointedly.
       Beneath the mask, Voldemort felt Bonning smirk. "No, they assured me
they would remain loyal to you, no matter what the Gathering decided."
       The response was firm and sure and the Dark Lord smiled. "You may give
them surety about Gideon. None of my servants are forgotten. Should I go?"
Voldemort added the question, half musing to himself.
       "My Lord?"
       "Should I attend this Gathering?"
       Bonning considered it, aware that his Master had most likely already
come to a decision and that he was being tested. "No, my Lord, I don't think
so," he said slowly. "While the personal touch is appreciated for some, I think
in this case, with Gideon being captured and revealed, the werewolves would
take your presence as being too eager, and they would be reminded of their
past. While foolish, I believe they may then shy away from serving you."
       Voldemort nodded his agreement with Bonning's assessment, ignoring the
way the man relaxed. "Get in contact with Gideon's brother, see if we can
recruit him. Send Muraan, do it just after the moon so we can know if Gideon
bit his brother. Either way it matters not, see if he can be recruited. Tell
all the werewolves that none of my servants are forgotten and I will be
speaking with Gideon personally to ascertain his desires. It may be useful for
us to have a prisoner who can observe, for a time at least. Until I have
further instructions, continue as you have been. Watching, observing and
training. When the day comes to strike, it will be swift."
       Bonning nodded, before lowering his head in servitude and vanishing.
       Kisha looked at the place he had been before turning back to the Dark
Lord. "That was interesting," she said, tactfully understating the situation.
       "Very interesting," he replied before turning back to the attack. "But
it changes nothing. Or rather it means that I need to speak to my werewolves
personally to find out more about their structure. If it's as loose as
indicated, it's useless, but if it can be manipulated, or made more binding...
then that would be much more useful to me."
       :And much more dangerous to my kind,: Kisha thought, forcing herself to
calm. The Dark Lord saw only the moment, he didn't think about one hundred
years hence, when an organised pack of werewolves could wreak havoc on the
vampires on a full moon, or the Ministry or whatever they perceived to be a
threat. Though it strengthened her desire and gave her a new goal. Werewolves,
while good nourishment, if allowed to continue would one day develop their
governance themselves and that had to be stopped. No matter which side they
supported, they had renewed the enmity of the Vampires, who had been content to
let them exist.
       Now they would be exterminated.
===
       Dumbledore stood still, Xeoaph beside him as they watched their combined
task force rip into the building that was formerly a safe house for Voldemort's
forces.  They were becoming very efficient but still needed a little bit of
work as they'd failed to get the net up before a few Death Eaters had
apparated, taking with them any useful information. A few lower level Death
Eaters remained and while they would be questioned, it was doubtful they would
have anything useful to say. They'd be handed over to the Aurors to be paraded
around like that Werewolf as evidence of the Ministry's continued war against
the Dark Lord. It mattered little that the Ministry had yet to successfully
mount an assault against a squad of Voldemort's troops... had yet to find a
squad to mount any assault on. Albus suppressed a smirk at that, the expression
not his usual one but his attempt was noticed.
       "Something interesting?" Xeoaph asked.
       "Just thinking that the Ministry would love to be the architects of this
but then we'd be up to our ears in media."
       The vampires eyes sparkled slightly and he saw the joke. "True," he
replied softly, flicking a finger towards one of his subordinates who had
approached for instruction. The younger vampire nodded at the unspoken message
before he turned away to continue moving with his squad of Order members. "When
will young Harry be ready?"
       "Soon," Albus replied, "very soon. I am very pleased with his progress."
       "Yet he has yet to master the animagus transformation, and has done
himself damage attempting it."
       This time Albus did smirk and the vampire stirred at the expression.
       "Something has changed?"
       "Oh yes, something has more than changed."
       Xeoaph didn't question though his expression showed his curiosity.
       "It's a surprise," the Headmaster said quietly, though with a definite
note of pleasure in his voice. "You'll find out soon anyway, and I don't want
to spoil the surprise, for you or for anyone."
       The vampire elder sighed with an obscure sense of loss. "I should have
taken him when I had the chance," he said under his breath before looking back
to his ally. "He's something special?"
       Albus chuckled as Fawkes came to land on his shoulder, the phoenix's
head turning from side to side as he examined the now burning building. "He is
very special," he said with a small shake of his head.
       :I will teach him to fly,: Fawkes added as the squads of Vampires and
Order members formed up, their job complete as they waited for orders.
       Xeoaph's pale blue eyes widened slightly as he considered if the phoenix
meant that figuratively or literally. Either way, Albus was right, Harry was
something special and not taking him would be a regret for a very long time...
assuming that the Shadow Lord was strong enough to do what was necessary. If
not, Xeoaph was certain he'd get over it.
===
       Snape looked at the bubbling potion before him. It wasn't a difficult
one, it was one he'd brewed almost countless times before, it was one he
schooled the various brats in throughout the year but today he was shaking so
hard that he just had not been able to brew it at all. Every single time he
tried it turned from a beautiful lavender blue, to an atrocious sickly pink or
a bright red that was almost as bad, or a green that just refused to bubble...
or any number of other colours that were just not the right colour for this
potion.
       He snarled, looking down at his hands as he attempted to vanish yet
another batch of it. It was just a sleeping potion, something he'd been needing
more and more frequently lately as the whispers continued, invading his dreams,
invading any moment he wasn't on guard. Yet he couldn't hold his hands steady
enough to even brew a first year potion. Some master he was.
       Things were happening, too many things were happening that he didn't
know about and could be called into question about. Things that he should know
about, things that he wanted to know about and things that he would need to
know about if he was to attempt to avoid raising the Dark Lord's ire. About the
only good news was that Potter had almost finished what training he needed and
could now begin being trained in mastering his servants. When that happened,
they could be called to heel.
       :You can't ask him though, you won't ask him though. We know you
Severus, you would never bow so far as to ask Harry to call us into check.:
       The shadow voice almost seemed to laugh and for a moment Snape was
tempted to prove them wrong, was tempted to march straight into the infirmary
and demand that Harry order his pets to heel, order them to stay away from him.
But the shadow voice was also correct. He wouldn't. He couldn't. He could never
lower himself that much.
       Which now left him shaking, barely able to wield his wand and barely
able to brew a potion.
       :That's assuming of course that he can call us... that he does have
power over us.:
       Snape snarled. He didn't need the reminder. Yet the voice that
whispered, that purred, that said the most uncomfortable things always knew
exactly what to say to put him on edge and while it felt like a shadow or
shadows... he wasn't yet sure that it was the same shadow that was referred to
as Potter's supposed power. Though even if they were he didn't believe that one
man, one boy could control the shadows, not against something they wanted, and
apparently they wanted him.
       :Not really Snape, we don't want you in any way you think we do. We just
want you to be happy and we are the only ones who can make you happy.:
       He ran a hand through his hair and stalked out of the room, heading
towards his quarters. The shadows wouldn't bother him there, they couldn't
really bother him there as he'd set up so many lights that every shadow was
illuminated and with the darkness reduced, so was their voice. It was a petty
thing but it was the only defence he had which perversely, seemed to amuse them
even more.
       :Of course it does. Amuse us that is,: the shadow's echoing voice
whispered to him just as he reached the door to his rooms.
       "Why?" he asked tightly. He always asked one question before entering
his room. It was the only time he acknowledged them, the only time he admitted
that their voice was real.
       :Because, sooner or later, the Order or the Dark Lord will force you
away from here and then where will you and your pretty lights be?: They laughed
the reply ignoring the way he slammed the door on them, and drowned himself in
the light. :And because our Master's light is so much more potent. When we can
stand that, your little lights will be as starlight and then you will come to
us.:
===
       Sirius stalked down the road. He'd stomped earlier but all that had
gotten him was sore feet, so stalking with a dark expression was the best he
could manage at the current time. Things were happening, everything was
happening - Harry had completed his Animagus transformation for the Order, the
vampires and the Order had done multiple missions, so far successfully, some
idiot at the Ministry had teamed with some reporter to reveal a Death eater
Werewolf and the Order was negotiating with the Goblins to give them more
concessions.
       Everything was happening and he was stuck in the middle of no-where, in
the dull countryside, looking for magical creatures, who for the most part did
not want to be found, and who could be guaranteed, almost to a creature, did
not want to get involved with the war. Those who did have an interest, were
already committed. Those who didn't wanted to keep it that way. They didn't
know who was going to win and they didn't want to piss off either side.
       Besides, why join a side that treated non wizards as less than dirt? He
hadn't been asked that yet, but he could see the question coming, he could see
it all too clearly. Non-human magical beasts were not stupid after all. They
saw what was done to the werewolves, who were once human and they weren't about
to make the same mistakes. Perhaps though the deal with the Vampies and the
negotiations with the Goblins would warm things up but Sirius didn't think so.
It would take more than the offer of equality to convince some of the non-
humans, it would take the reality and by then it would be too late.
       Which was why he should be back with Re... at Hogwarts where he could do
some good! He'd said as much to Dumbledore but the man hadn't budged with his
insistence that he be the one to go out recruiting. Okay it was true, he was
better equipped than most wizards to rough it, and it was also true that he had
the notoriety and the education - curtsey of that Black upbringing - to
actually get into contact with some of the non-humans but that didn't mean he
was the only wizard in the Order who could have done this. He was just the
first wizard Albus had on hand.
       And he definitely should be there while Harry was growing and while
Remus was facing those accusations alone. Nothing much had been said in the
Prophet recently but the accusation was there, that all werewolves were the
Dark Lords and they should be... well it wasn't quite that they should be
hunted down yet, but it was getting there. Certainly all known werewolves
should be watched most closely for ties to the Dark Lord. Remus was under so
much stress and he wasn't there.
       :Oh it's not that bad!: The shadow's echoy voice chuckled. :Look, the
gorse is in bloom.: A puff of wind shook one of the taller gorse bushes lining
the laneway, sending a shower of fading gold petals into the air.
       They were right, the bush was blooming but it was ending the main stay
and most of the blooms were brown, turning into seed pods for when the weather
here would get truly hot and allow them to break and scatter. If he'd been here
earlier in the season then the bush would have looked yellow with flowers which
in no way inhibited the plants ability to catch his clothes on the spine like
leaves.
       "Very pretty," he muttered as he continued walking. He had a few more
miles to go today before he considered stopping for the night. He travelled on
foot most days, casting a location charm every now and then to see if there was
anything of interest in the area but he did a more specific divination each
night once he'd stopped. That let him find those creatures that wanted to
remain hidden. Of course, those who really wanted to hide, he wouldn't find but
then probably neither would the Death eaters or the Ministry Aurors. So far
he'd found a lot of non-sentient magical creatures masquerading as something
the Muggles wouldn't react to. Concealment charms on Hippogriffs for those
wizards living near to Muggles in the cities was well and good but out here, it
was every magical beast for himself and most had managed to blend quite well.
It was only because Sirius knew they weren't what they were hiding as that he
could even spot some of them. No matter. The non-sentients weren't what he was
looking for.
       And the sentient ones that he was searching for knew better than to just
let him find them.
       :Well, perhaps we can give you something else to do today?: The shadows
asked, flickering on the ground as he walked.
       "Oh, you want me to go talk to another lot of things for you?"
       :Not at all,: the shadows said. :Besides if we recruit everything
Dumbledore will be suspicious if you don't talk to anyone. We want you to do
something else this time, something that should help you alleviate some
stress.:
       "So what do you need?"
       :The Ministry has something we want and we need it fetched from one of
their buildings. Usually we'd just transport it ourselves but we figured it
might be good to have you seen again, to establish your presence and
credentials as they were.:
       "To show that there is still a wild card in play?"
       :Yes, a wild card that does what it wants, when it wants because it
can.:
       "All right," Sirius agreed easily more than happy for the opportunity to
actually do something besides walk around in search of those who didn't really
want to be found. "It would probably be good to be seen away from the Dark Lord
as well since at least some of the Ministry will no doubt think I serve him.
When do you want me to go?"
       :Wait until you've set up for tonight and done the usual spells, just in
case Fawkes checks in,: the shadows said in a pleased tone. He could tell they
were pleased that he'd thought of the implication with the Serpent Lord, though
they honestly weren't sure if that was the interpretation the Ministry would
make. :After that, get ready and apparate, we'll make sure you get to the
destination.:
===
       Voldemort hid his displeasure behind what he hoped was a neutral
expression. The next few hours promised to be moderately... annoying, necessary
but distinctly annoying. 
       He had hoped that he would be past this by now but he wasn't and he
probably wouldn't be for a while yet, not until his servants were educated in
his ways, not until they really understood what he stood for, what he fought
for. So many of them only saw what they wanted and that was something he needed
to address now.
       Usually he'd have just given orders to implement what he wanted done
today but some of his beloved's words were staying with him. 'It seems to me
that you have forgotten a basic premise. You want wizards to take their
rightful place and to rule muggles but you forget that to rule, there must be
wizards. Those old families with their pure blood and single child could never
rule and are asking for their own destruction.' It was galling but it was true
and in the aftermath of the failed attempt to take the Ministry, in between all
the other battles he had been running and implementing and allies like Kisha he
had been courting he had also been questioning some of his followers. And with
everything he learnt, his beloved's words had just echoed back at him, their
truth was reinforced with every answer given to him by those of noble birth.
       So many of them had a single child, some had two children but it was few
that had three or four children. Most of his followers seemed to be content
with focusing their efforts on the one child, trusting that wizarding power
would be enough for them to be supreme. But that was merely asking for their
own destruction as Harry had pointed out. It wouldn't be immediate but it would
come. Voldemort itched to just order his followers to breed but he wanted more
than mindless followers breeding like rabbits with no care or attention given
towards the child. No, they had to be educated as to why it was better to have
more children and to nurture those children so that when the time came their
loyalty would be absolute and they would be the fighters he required. He didn't
want front line shock troops. Those types of troops didn't require thought, he
wanted warriors, witches and wizards who were dangerous not just because of
their power but because they knew how to use it in more than the traditional
proscribed methods.
       And that had lead to today. Surprisingly Xatarass had agreed that this
was necessary but the basilisk had also agreed that the two of them could go
acromantula hunting later. Necessary doesn't mean nice, the basilisk had said
before sinking back into sleep. It was probably safer that way since if the
Dark Lord had to listen to the snake's commentary his forces would be very
reduced before the meeting was over.
       His trusted followers, those with children had been instructed to bring
them today. He'd told them that he wanted to give them instructions for the
school year, which was true but that was a secondary goal. For the most part
these were the children of his more intelligent followers, those who weren't
suspected and a simple confusion spell would keep it so that they didn't really
recognise their fellows. Because of this he wasn't too concerned that they
would give his beloved problems during the school year. More likely the ones
who would attempt to get in Harry's way would be the survivors of Malfoy's
Rebellion and the Dark Lord had faith that his beloved's servants would deal
with them.
       His Death Eater's had reported that their children were excited but
understandably nervous about meeting their Lord, and some of his followers had
gathered their courage to express their own concerns. Not at him meeting their
children, it was a given that in due course he would be meeting every single
child today to give them the mark and bring them into his service. No his
followers were slightly concerned that he would mark some, the older ones today
but he had assured them all that that would not be the case. While it was
tempting, it was too dangerous to mark them and then send them into
Dumbledore's presence and he'd said as much to those who had expressed their
concerns. They had been abject in their thanks and his thoughtfulness towards
their offspring had only increased their loyalty.
       Even so, while this was a necessary day and a necessary task, he
anticipated that he would want to kill something before it was done.
       While he'd been thinking his followers had assembled their children then
withdrawn towards the walls, some of them relaxed enough to speak quietly
amongst themselves. Their children were just watching him, and he could smell
their fear. Unlike the fear of the Malfoy Death Eaters or the muggles who had
hurt his beloved, he didn't take much pleasure in this one. They should respect
him, they should fear him but it should not be mindless. Mindless fears only
lead to people lashing out against that which they feared and he wanted
obedience not rebellion. He smiled, or tried to, to reassure them.
       "Good morning, little ones," he said soothingly, casting a small warming
charm to calm them.
       "My Lord," a few of the bold ones replied, bowing slightly towards him.
Most of the others caught on to the obsequious and bowed as well.
       "My faithful," he began, nodding back towards them in a tiny gesture of
respect. "I have called you here today, rather than pass the message via your
parents because I do not wish any mistakes. While you are not yet marked as
mine, there is no doubt as to who you will serve, and as such, I have a mission
for you."
       "A mission?" one of the bold ones questioned.
       "Yes," Voldemort said. Perhaps this was the best way of giving out this
information to the children. Make them believe it was a mission and at least
some of it was but some of it was merely common sense. "Before I get to the
details though, tell me which houses you are in."
       The children looked at him oddly and some of them he realised weren't
yet at school age so he repeated the question, differently this time to put
them at ease. "Who is in Hufflepuff?"
       Some of the children raised their hands, though there was some
apprehension. He smiled again, "A good solid house," the Dark Lord murmured,
loud enough to be heard. "I can expect you to be steadfast, loyal and
dependable," he added with a small gesture towards those who had raised their
hands. The bolder nodded and inclined their heads in acquiesce, while some
looked relieved. Apparently they believed that he only saw favour in those of
Slytherin.
       Internally Voldemort shrugged. Those of Slytherin were his traditional
allies but they were also tied towards Malfoy and their ideals were not
entirely aligned with his own. Slytherins were useful and would take their
places in his forces, but they were expected to follow him. The other houses
had more worth because they were not watched as closely.
       "And who here is in Ravenclaw?"
       Some more children raised their hands. This time there was no
hesitation. "Another strong house, this time the house that holds my future
strategists and charm creators," he gave them their greeting. "Slytherin?"
       Several raised their hands with pride and a touch of arrogance. It was
expected but it would need to be removed and soon. Pride was acceptable though
arrogance in untried children was not. "Ah, those who walk through the house of
my youth and who are my most cunning servants, prepared to do anything to get
the job done." Some of the children nodded happily and he knew they had no idea
yet what his benediction would mean for them. "And finally, are there any
Gryffindors?"
       Where there had been a smattering of representation for all previous
houses this time the fear returned as only two to three hands rose slowly, all
trembling. "The strong and the brave," the Serpent Lord said clearly. "And you,
my followers are the truly brave, for you have seen through the lies and have
found the truth that my path is only right one and have had the courage to
follow it. Your job will perhaps be the hardest, to guide your fellows to the
same understanding.
       "But that is a task for the future," he forestalled any questions, not
that he was expecting any of them to dare to question him but he wanted to move
on and didn't wish for any to take jabs at the others merely because of their
houses. "To those who have yet to enter Hogwarts, let this be my first lesson
to you. House does not matter. All have their place in my following and none
are favoured over another. The roles they play are different but none are less
important than another." A few of the children who would be entering Hogwarts
in the next year or so nodded carefully, some of their faces openly showing
their thoughts as they no doubt thought about what their parents had said. "I
do have one question for you all though, you are all purebloods, I assume?"
       "Of course!" One of the older Slytherin children said and the Dark Lord
suppressed a smile as he recognised them. Roland Tare, only child of Petar
Tare, scion of the Tare Clan who had ties back to Eastern Europe, and more
importantly someone who, though a widower, had a new, much younger wife.
       "Of course you are," Voldemort murmured. "How many of you have no
brothers or sisters?" He launched into what was the important part of today's
plan.
       Approximately half the hands raised, and Voldemort suppressed a start of
surprise. He knew the number was large, he didn't expect it to be quite that
large. "How many have one brother or sister?"
       About a third of the hands rose this time and he moved on. "How many
with two?" A few hands rose. By now he could feel the curiosity coming from the
full Death Eater's who were watching and he wondered if any of them would catch
on when he explained to their children. He was not going to order his followers
to breed but at least some would hopefully take the hint - and some of them
would be these children. "How many with more?" Less than one eighth of the
hands rose, but he had expected nothing more at this point in time.
       "How many of you know a mudblood or a blood traitor?" He asked. It was a
loaded question and he fully expected most of them to answer it with the
affirmative, and then to further answer that they knew a red haired blood
traitor. It didn't really matter if they were all thinking of the same person
or family. That family would illustrate his point perfectly.
       This time, as expected most of the school going children raised their
hands. "Those who don't know one don't worry, you will no doubt meet them at
Hogwarts, but for those of you who do know them, I have another question, how
many brothers and sisters do they have? It's okay if you don't know the exact
answer, just in general, how many do they have? None?"
       A few hands rose tentatively and he suppressed a smile. "One?" There
were a few more affirmatives but most of the children had not indicated the
affirmative yet. "Two?" About a quarter of the hands rose and the Dark Lord was
surprised. He'd have been willing to put money down for pretty much all of them
picking out the Weasley's but apparently not. It didn't matter since two
children were sufficient for his explanation. "Three, or more?" The rest of the
hands rose and he nodded, gesturing for them to lower their hands as he
continued. "Why do you think that is? Why do you think they have more
children?" He asked the loaded question.
       "The lessers always whelp more children," Roland shrugged, as if it was
the most obvious thing in the world, though he maintained enough control not to
be condescending in the presence of his Lord. "They start younger and breed
more, probably because sexual favours are the norm for them and the only way
they can get anything."
       The Dark Lord resisted the urge to laugh. This one would not doubt be
outraged when he learned that trading on sexual favours was universal and it
just depended on the individual as to how discrete and how good they were at
it. Roland's new step mother was probably one of the better women at it, to
have married his father.
       "Ah I suppose I'd better set up some good educational facilities to
train the lessers when they come into their power," Voldemort said in a relaxed
tone.
       "My Lord?" Roland asked.
       "In a few generations, while the pure bloods continue to marry amongst
themselves and have one or two children only, those you deem the lessers will
have had three to four children each; three to four magical children. They
don't outnumber the old blood yet but they will. And since I will need magical
followers to take up arms, I will just have to train them in the proper way."
       "Never!" Roland jumped to his feet, his face flushed with anger.
       "And how will you stop that?" Blood red eyes locked onto Roland's and he
shuddered but didn't back down. "Are you three to four times more powerful than
them?"
       The boy's anger drained away but his face remained flushed, this time
with embarrassment.
       "I'll take your silence as a no," the Serpent Lord said easily, almost
soothingly. Several of the parents were listening closely to the conversation
and he'd seen some of them start and nod with understanding as the obvious
conclusions were drawn. Some though still had an air of confusion as did most
of the children.
       "Let me tell you what is important Roland and I suggest you all remember
these words. Blood, money, prestige... all has its place but it isn't
important. Power is. Only power is important. Money can be gained by power as
can prestige. And without power, money and prestige can be lost very quickly.
       "Blood, well blood is a constant. It is true that those born as
Mudbloods will always be mudbloods, however if they have power, then they may
achieve money and prestige and then there is no difference at all between them
and the old."
       "Yes there is!"
       "Oh," Voldemort was amused. "How?"
       "They will always be a mudblood."
       "Yet they live in the wizarding world, they hold jobs, have friends,
maintain their livelihoods, and their children are educated here and they then
build their lines into those of power. In some cases they are the ones giving
you orders, so how are they different?
       "They are not. And they are no different because they have power and the
will to use that power. Make no mistake; those with the power and the will to
use it are those who will rule. And those who will rule in the future are those
who have the numbers to rule. The old lines are becoming interbreed and inter-
related to the point where finding acceptable marriages is almost impossible.
Who will you marry, who will you wed when there is no one not related by blood?
Or will you interbreed further and risk squibs?"
       Roland shuddered and the Dark Lord could see his mind working as he
thought about his relatives and who he was related to. He, like most of those
present was a cousin to most of the others. Sometimes second or third cousin
but related never the less.
       "In the not too distant further," Voldemort continued, "the choice for
the so called old blood will be clear and they are the following: do not breed
and let the estates and wealth go to another related family, interbreed to a
point that is dangerous and risk squibs, or breed with one of the lessers, who
by that stage will outnumber the old bloods in power and in numbers."
       "So you are telling us to accept the blood traitors and mudbloods?" One
of the Death Eater's spat.
       Voldemort looked over and was interested in the reactions of his other
followers. Two or three nodded at the statement and moved to back the speaker,
Alcander Zatony while the rest looked at him, Zatony, as if he hadn't a thought
in his head. Roland, young though he was, had sat down again, a very thoughtful
expression on his youthful face, an expression that changed to chagrined
understanding before he hunkered down, listening but no longer speaking,
converted to his Lord's beliefs.
       "No," Voldemort said easily, making no gestures. Alcander probably
thought he had the upper hand and he saw no reason to debase him of that belief
just yet. "I'm telling you to accept the power they have. I'm telling you to
accept that it is power that is important, not anything to do with birth. Power
is power. How are you going to stop a muggleborn if they challenge you for your
house?"
       Alcander spluttered while the Dark Lord looked on, his gaze showing
nothing but calm assurance.
       "No mudblood would dare challenge me," Alcander eventually ground out
through clenched teeth.
       Voldemort laughed his amusement real and unfeigned. "What's going to
stop them? What's going to stop a so called blood traitor from challenging you?
Your power? Your prestige, your position? You are adequately powerful Zatony
but let us be honest here, your position is based on history, not on ability.
You are nothing special and you can be replaced by anyone of about the same
power. So why shouldn't a so called mudblood or muggleborn take up your
position if they have the will?"
       For a moment it looked like Alcander would attack Voldemort and he felt
a small surge of disappointment when the wizard mastered himself and instead of
drawing his wand to attack he instead stepped forward, reaching up to remove
his white mask.
       "So the past, all that you have proclaimed to stand for means nothing?"
       "An interesting statement, Zatony and one I'm rather surprised to hear
you utter but I am pleased, because it means that my insistence that my Death
Eater's do not randomly rush into anything, that they think about the best way
to achieve my goals has paid off. A younger you, would have attacked me and
that would have been your death but the question shows... maturity.
       "What I have proclaimed is still meaningful Zatony but what is pureblood
without power? It is nothing. It has no future and in its present it clings to
the past as justification for its being. It seems to me though, and you will
forgive me for paraphrasing someone who is wise in their understanding, that
you have forgotten a basic premise. I wish wizards to rule, there is no
question of that, but for wizards to rule, there must be wizards. Your old
families, with their pure blood and single child cannot rule. They are asking
for their own destruction because in time they will not be. And when they are
gone, who will rule? Those you call blood traitors and those who have been
brought into our society but not truly baptised into power, the muggleborn's.
It is understandable that they bear no desire to rule the muggles so I do not
blame them. They need guidance, to be shown the way and that is what I will do
but do not make the mistake of thinking that the old bloods should rule. Those
with power should rule. That is the truth you should embrace. Those with the
will and ability and from what I can see, the will of some of those you name
blood traitors is stronger. Certainly they seem to be thinking of the future
more."
       "Malfoy was right," one of the Death Eater's standing behind Zatony
muttered under their breath.
       Voldemort raised one eyebrow "I take it that is a belief held by all of
you?"
       "It is, my Lord," Zatony said fiercely, standing without fear. "The
mudbloods and blood traitors cannot rule, they do not have the ability and they
should be destroyed before their corruption touches us all."
       Voldemort cast a shield charm over the children before any of the new
rebels could use them. It also not so incidentally isolated Zatony and the
other's spawn from the others in case they tried anything. "Curse breakers such
as yourself are hard to find Alcander, I will miss your services," the Dark
Lord said, before with a flash of power he snapped his wand up, casting Avada
Kedavra three times.
       No shield could absorb a curse of that power, not when it was uttered by
the Dark Lord but it did deflect one curse. The two who had backed Zatony fell
soundlessly, their shield shattered and dispersed with their death but their
leader didn't mourn their loss, instead he acted, raising his wand to try to
cast his own curse. It was of course too late. Voldemort had seen the curse
deflected with a follow up gesture that appeared slow he flicked his wand back,
casting the killing curse again.
       "No!" The cry came from the children as they watched their parents
executed by their lord and as Alcander fell, Voldemort turned to look them in
the eye.
       Another gesture separated the newly created orphans from the others and
as the Dark Lord returned to his throne he fixed them with a look that made
most believe he could see into their souls. All of the new rebel's children
were of Hogwarts age; they were old enough now to make their choice.
       "Power," he said softly. "Power is all that is important. Not blood, not
money, not pride; power and the ability to be present in the future. You
children now have a choice. You can either swear your allegiance to me or you
can follow your parents, while not yet of age in our society, you are old
enough to make this choice." Voldemort sat back, watching them with unblinking
eyes as they considered.
       The girl, Galatea, stared at the body of her father, her eyes wide but
not unseeing. With a gulp she looked back towards the serpent lord, seeing his
calm assurance. "Power," she whispered.
       "Yes child, it is all that is important; power and the will to use it."
       "Will you teach me to use power?"
       "Those in my service are taught to use power."
       With one last glance towards the body of her father, Galatea nodded.
"Then I will swear my loyalty," she said, kneeling.
       Voldemort nodded, removing the shield charm from her that had kept her
contained. Galatea didn't even flinch but remained kneeling before her Lord.
"What about you others?" He asked, looking towards the other two.
       "No," one of them whispered while the other was too lost in fear to be
really thinking. Voldemort shook his head sadly. It was sad to lose the young
but sacrifices were necessary. He didn't bother question further but merely
dropped their shields and cast Avada Kedavra again, dropping the two remaining
children painlessly and soundlessly before he vanished the bodies. He suspected
some of those still here were only feigning but he would hunt them down in
time. Power was all that was important and his true followers would know that.
       "Now that, that is over, those who remain are my true followers, and are
those who understand. I do not wish you to breed like rabbits," Voldemort said,
speaking both to the children and the remaining Death Eaters. "But to rule,
there must be wizards and thus there must be those who can wield power in the
future. That is what I want you to consider and act upon though I do not need
mindless drones. Children must be raised and must be nurtured in their power;
they must not be created simply to maintain numbers."
       Around the room, the Death Eater's nodded while some of the older girls
also showed their understanding. The Dark Lord knew they would be more than
mere brood mares but they would consider his words and they would see to it
that they bore children to be loved, and raised in the knowledge of power,
raised to know that wizards and witches were superior.
       "For those of you who are going to Hogwarts," Voldemort continued,
looking back towards the gathered children, "I will not mark you. Dumbledore is
too fastidious in checking, but I will now give you this warning - anyone
hurting Harry Potter will die by my hand, no matter how loyal you are. Harry
Potter belongs to me, his mind, his body and his death." The Dark Lord smiled
at the thought. Oh yes, the Shadow Lord belonged to him, in so many more ways
than most of his Death Eater's believed and certainly in more ways that their
children could imagine. However this was the easiest way to explain what Malfoy
had called his obsession. It achieved his goals even though it hid the truth.
"At the moment, I want his school life to be sickenly normal, so that he will
live each moment wondering when I will strike. You will make that happen," he
said to the children. "And that is your mission. I do not ask you to deceive
him or to attempt to be his friend. I doubt you could deceive him, I merely
order that you do not antagonise him or show hostility."
       "So that is our mission, my Lord? To make Harry's school life normal?"
       "Yes. If there are others who antagonise or seek to hurt Harry Potter,
the Malfoy Death Eaters for example, do nothing against them but report their
presence to me. I will deal with them," he added the instruction and was
pleased to see some of the Slytherin's nod. No doubt they were expecting to be
approached soon. "If they threaten you, then..." Voldemort chuckled. "Why don't
you let Snape and Dumbledore deal with them?" he suggested with an evil grin.
       A couple of the older children snorted at his joke though they
understood. It was, after all, pretty obvious.
       The Dark Lord waved his hand. "Go now," he instructed, giving his
permission for the children and their parents to withdraw. The children began
returning to their parents and with a nod of permission from the Dark Lord,
they began apparating out as he eased the wards to temporarily allow their
magical signatures to pass through. One of the red masked Death Eater's stepped
up to Galatea, placing their hand on her shoulder. She looked up from where she
was but otherwise remained kneeling.
       Voldemort nodded his permission. Mikhail would look after her well, and
would report back if her loyalty was fake.
       After what seemed an age the Dark Lord was alone.
       :Possibly a bit harsh killing the parents in front of the children,: the
shadows remarked idly  into the silence.
       "Did you mark those who were smart enough to remain silent?"
       :Not that there were that many,: the shadows laughed, :though Galatea
will be making her decision in the next few days we imagine. She knows what you
represent but she will need to work through her fear.:
       The Serpent Lord shrugged. "Either she will or she won't," he said.
"Mikhail will keep watch. I am surprised though," Voldemort mused. "It appears
Malfoy wasn't quite as thorough in going through my forces for those who
sympathised than I believed. How are Lucius' dear wife and son?" he asked
suddenly.
       The shadows gave the impression of annoyance. :Someone... probably
Xeoaph has tipped her off. While the light she is using is not pure, it is
enough to keep us away.:
       "Ah..." Voldemort said in understanding. "Narcissa was always
resourceful. In many ways she was better witch than her husband. No matter...
Since she has not come to me her choice is obvious and when she raises her hand
against me, she will be obliterated."
 
***** Learning to Fly *****
Weapon
Chapter 16 Learning to Fly
===
       Harry stood at the edge of the quidditch pitch, his bare feet sunk a
little into the surrounding sands. He wriggled his toes, feeling the small
grains scour the skin between each one before he brought his attention back to
the present. He felt...
       He felt good. He always felt good when in his animagus form for the
simple fact that the transformation had an unexpected benefit. Fawkes couldn't
track him. The phoenix tattoo of the Order was still there slightly but the
conflicting energy that was his animagus form meant that the phoenix couldn't
contact him and couldn't monitor him. In this form he was free! It was a
freedom though he was careful not to enjoy too much of, lest someone became
suspicious. And it was only because he transformed into what he did that the
phoenix was not already suspicious.
       Harry remembered the moment Fawkes had realized he was 'out of touch'.
He'd been in Dumbledore's office, going over a few things when the fire bird
had asked him to transform, which he had dutifully done. That had then lead to
a few very sharp looks from the bird before he'd ruffled his feathers in
annoyance and settled back on his perch indicating that Harry should transform
back.
       :I can't talk to you in that form,: the phoenix had said when he'd
resumed his human form.
       "What?"
       :I can't talk to you in that form,: Fawkes had repeated. :There is too
much interference from the energies. I think in time I will be able to but not
at the moment which is a shame.:
       Harry had been very careful to keep the surge of elation from his hidden
self-suppressed and had done his best to simulate gentle confusion. "A shame?"
he'd eventually asked to cover the growing silence between them. Deep inside
though he could feel his true self celebrating and making plans to be in
animagus form as much as was practicable.
       :I was going to teach you how to fly,: the fire bird replied. :Now you
will have to learn it the hard way... And without a tail, it really is going to
be the hard way!: Fawkes seemed to laugh a little at the last and Harry
received a mental impression that had something to do with flying and the role
that a birds tail played in keeping them stable.
       A moment later his mind produced a very unsubtle image of himself, face
planted firmly into the ground with his wings spread around him. Oh yes, flying
might not be quite as easy as it seemed.
       So that's why he was here, at the edge of the quidditch pitch in his
animagus form, preparing to give himself his first flying lesson. He wore only
a woolen knitted form fitting suit that let him move freely but left his now
clawed hands and feet bare and had space down the back for his wings to sprout
through. He'd taken to wearing it, or having it at least partially formed from
the shadows since the day he'd recovered from this transformation. For some
reason, it had felt right and while it should be stifling hot in the middle of
summer, really didn't feel that bad.
       He looked around, looking up at the deserted stands. Fawkes had done his
best to describe what he thought would be necessary to make the adjustments to
flying without a tail, but the fire bird's explanations, were to a human...
vague. He spoke of air currents and eddies and of changing the angles of his
primary feathers to compensate. Most of it had gone over Harry's head though he
had concentrated and tried to understand. In the end, though Fawkes had once
again ruffled his own feathers and shook his head, sending a few sparks down on
to the stone floor of Dumbledore's office before he'd given the best bit of
advice Harry had heard so far. :For you to learn to fly, it will require
practice... and lots of it so I suggest you get to it.:
       And with that as the final word on advice on how to fly, the phoenix had
made the arrangements so that Harry wouldn't be required for most of today and
had seen to it that the quidditch pitch would be deserted as well, and the fire
bird had then sent him off to practice. There had been at least enough sympathy
there for Harry to realise that his first few attempts were not going to be
pretty. The image of himself, flat on his face was unlikely to be fantasy.
       He sighed, looking up at the goal rings. That should be his first goal.
Flying up to one of them. But exactly how did he co-ordinate everything to get
up there?
       If he transformed fully into his animagus form then there would be no
worries. That particular form, a fully magical being didn't fly, it just willed
itself where it wanted to go. He'd learnt that very quickly in the few times
he'd managed to steal enough time and privacy to manifest his full form. He'd
only done that once he'd been cleared to practice in private and only when
Fawkes had been at ease. The Order only knew about his corporal transformation,
they didn't know he could go all the way and he wanted to keep it that way. It
was bad enough that he had an animagus form that... well transcended every
wizard and witch in existence. He really didn't want to think what the Order
might try if they knew he could go further, could outstrip them all even with
their combined power. There hadn't been much backlash to his abilities but he'd
been surrounded by those who were accepting of power. The rest of the wizarding
community would not be nearly as understanding.
       That wasn't the question now though. Harry shook his head bemused as he
stepped out on to the grass, idly fanning his wings. Even with the little bit
of movement he could feel the resistance of the air, feel his wings pulling
against it and the magic working to make the muscles of his back and chest far
stronger than they could ever be. He knew that flying was more than just
flapping his wings. One of the times he'd transformed he had actually wanted to
see what they could do and had flapped as hard as he could. It had been an
effective way of moving himself and furniture but had not granted him flight.
And he'd spent a good part of the next hour moving everything back to where it
should be - after he'd picked himself out of the wall he'd driven himself into.
Oh yes, flying was far more than just flapping his wings which was why he had
listened to Fawkes even though nothing had been really clear.
       :Would you like some help, Master?:
       The voice came from inside him and Harry recognized it as Xaos'. He
welcomed the new presence with a burst of love that was returned as a little
illusion of a serpent appeared wrapped around one of his forearms. He felt the
basilisk tattoo tickle over his chest too as the serpent rose out of the depths
of his mind where he had been hiding since his confrontation with Fawkes. No
one was going to disturb him for at least a few hours when he expected at least
that one of the house elves would bring him some lunch - and not so
incidentally check that he hadn't accidentally knocked himself out in his
attempts to fly, so it was safe enough for his internal protector to manifest
himself.
       "I'm glad to see you, Xaos," Harry said aloud, raising his arm to look
into the eyes of the illusionary basilisk on his arm, "and I am especially glad
to see that there has been no damage from Fawkes, but you're a serpent, how can
you help me to fly?"
       The little basilisk brushed up against his cheek in a fond movement, his
tongue flickering all the time. :I know how to fly,: the serpent said.
       "But you're a snake!" Harry objected.
       :But I still know how to fly,: Xaos said firmly.
       Harry frowned. "I will grant that a basilisk is created through hatching
a chicken's egg under a toad and that as such a basilisk may retain the
instinct of a chicken and therefore the knowledge of how to fly, but Xaos, you
are a pure basilisk, born of basilisks. Your relation to something that may
know how to fly goes back a long way and many generations."
       :That is true, Master, my body is pure serpent but my soul remembers how
to fly,: Xaos said with quiet dignity that was accompanied by a flash of memory
of soaring through the sky on silent wings.
       Harry blinked, feeling the wind pressed against his wings in the memory
and the surety as he made tiny adjustments to each feather unconsciously or
rather as Xaos made tiny adjustments to each feather, but more importantly
Harry couldn't miss who he was flying towards in the memory. He was flying
towards himself!
       He let out a long sigh, "How?"
       His question was answered with another flash of memory, and this time he
was flying over the lake but there was not even a whisper of wind and the lake
surface was flat, reflecting the sky and the surrounding mountains like a
mirror, reflecting the almost glowing form of a snowy owl back into his eyes.
       "Hedwig..."
       :Yes, Master?:
       Harry wished that Xaos had decided to physically manifest himself but
the little basilisk had decided to be discrete, something he was thankful for
but regretted now as he could not hug the serpent in sheer relief but after a
moment his joy faded and he remembered the fear and the uncertainty he'd felt
at his induction into the Order. He'd risked Hedwig in such a manner?
       :No, you did not Master. You risked me, Xaos, in such a manner because
there was no other choice but there was also no risk Master. I told you that
then, I will tell you again, so long as you back me against the phoenix, even
privately, then he cannot dislodge me. There are only three powers that could
now even attempt to dislodge me.:
       "What are they?" Harry demanded as the words soothed his guilt. They
couldn't remove it entirely, because no matter what he just wouldn't accept
that but he would try to move onwards.
       :The Serpent Lord could try to call to me but since I want to stay, and
so long as you wanted me, I would remain. He is the King but you are my host.
Your servants are another power that could attempt to dislodge me. I enjoy
speaking with them and while they down play their part in hiding me against
Fawkes, I know that took much power and I would be naive not to speculate that
they could possibly have enough power to remove me. And the third power that
could remove me Master, is you. If you truly do not wish my presence then we
would separate and that would be that.:
       "I'm not going to want you gone," Harry said confidently.
       :I know,: Xaos replied chuckling. :Now, about flying,: the little
serpent said quite eagerly. : Firstly, I will need a good look at your wings,:
he added sliding back down Harry's arm and over his shoulder, quite
deliberately growing slightly so as to hook his illusionary tail over one wing
so that the little serpent could look carefully at the leading edges of each
wing. :Master, please stretch your wings out.:
       Harry did as requested, stretching each wing out to its full extent,
suppressing a giggle as the serpent illusion moved over them, ruffling not so
much as a single feather barb in his examination. : Well your wings are
narrower and more pointed than my wings were but that's not too bad, it should
allow you more manoeuvrability and you can probably use some magic to enhance
that,: Xaos gave the commentary on his examination. : And you've got some very
strong leading feathers, which should mean that an adjustment to any of them
will make a small adjustment in flight but that's something you can learn
later, how each feather can be used to make things easier. What I really don't
understand Master, is why Fawkes insisted you don't have steering feathers,:
       "I don't have a tail," Harry said.
       :True,: the serpent agreed, :but your scapulars and secondary feathers
close to your body are very long and appear to be doubled and reinforced.:
       Harry felt the little basilisk give a few of them a phantom tug and he
realized that those feathers were almost double the length of any other feather
and almost touched the grass.
       :Given that there appears to be some extra musculature around them at
their base,: Xaos continued as Harry belatedly remembered to pay attention, :
I believe those feathers will form you a tail and will be used for steering.
But that doesn't disprove what I said earlier. A bit of magic would also
probably help but isn't strictly necessary though if you can, when you make
your transformation, try to focus on making those feathers fuller as that will
help.:
       Harry nodded but the little basilisk appeared satisfied and came back
around to face him. :Okay, first things first. To get off the ground, master,
you will have to concentrate on flapping your wings DOWN, which will require
you to either tilt slightly or to make your wings parallel to the ground,
though remember the angle will dictate the rate of climb. Fully parallel will
make for an almost vertical rise while perpendicular will do little more than
buffet you and whatever is in the vicinity. At the same time though Master, you
must remember those tail feathers. They will be used like a rudder to give you
direction and should be facing straight down when you are attempting to gain
altitude. Once you reach the height you want, then your wing beats will depend
on what you wish to do. For direct forward flight then it would be best to
attempt to level out your body horizontally and just flap your wings towards
the ground with a slight tilt forward and then to use your tail as steering.
For very quick turns, it's easiest if you fold in one wing slightly so that
it's not working as hard. The differential will make you turn much sharper, and
this is especially true when you use your wing tips, which are much more
pointed than my owl wings. This will allow you much more subtle control over
turns. They will also help when swooping to guide you. The points will be
extended back past your body and will be catching the air as you swoop and an
adjustment to any feather will give you steering control here.:
       Harry blinked as he took in Xaos' explanations. The basilisk really did
know how to fly and wasn't concerned about trying to explain air currents and
eddies. He made it seem much simpler than Fawkes had.
       :Next master is reading the air.:
       The black hair boy choked back a laugh. He'd thought too soon
apparently.
       :So long as you remain close to the ground here, there will not be much
wind to distract you and your first few flights should be relatively simple.
But as you rise higher, or in other areas there are many things that can
disturb your flight. The wind, for example. Where possible try to fly with it.
Flying into the teeth of a howling gale requires quite a bit of energy and
control to maintain your course. I know you can see the swirls of magic in the
world when you try master, the air is rather similar. There are swirls and
patterns there that if you try to fight against, they can be painful. Once you
get into the air you will sense them, I think, and you will be able to work
with them. They should be taken as a guide though, and not as an absolute.
Sometimes, you just have to fly into the teeth of the howling gale.:
       "Okay," Harry agreed. "Is there anything else?"
       The black serpent shook its head. :Just remember that everything works
together, master. You are a good flyer on a broom I know and that should help
you sense the air a bit, but the mechanics of flight are different under your
own power. So now we begin.:
       "Now we begin," Harry echoed briefly closing his eyes.
===
       Elliot looked over at his companion. He'd been more than a little
surprised when his usual Auror contact had asked to meet him again. After the
fiasco with the werewolf he'd assumed that they were no longer talking to him
but they'd sent him a message to meet in the usual place. So here he was,
nursing a pot of muggle beer as the Auror in front of him did the same.
       "So..?" Elliot began.
       "Indeed," the Auror Baross said. "This is off the record," he added
forcefully and Elliot just nodded. While there probably was something
important, sometimes the Auror just needed to vent and while he could be said
to be a risky proposition, he'd given his word that if asked not to publish he
would not. Which is the only reason the Auror Captain trusted him. Of course,
what was not published was often of use to the Order.
       "So, what's up?" Elliot asked.
       "That werewolf," Baross ground out.
       "The Death Eater?"
       "Yes... the one who practically waltzed out of custody... And if that
comes out before we are ready, you'll be in the deepest pit in Azkaban before
you can blink."
       Elliot merely nodded. At least that explained why there had been no news
about the werewolf in the past few days. Escaped... it hardly seemed possible.
"How did it happen?" he asked quietly. "Or rather, who was it?"
       Baross reached into his Muggle coat and brought out a picture. "You
probably recognize him," he said with heavy irony.
       Elliot looked at the picture and he did recognise it. "That's the guy
from the Atrium," he said handing it back. The picture was nothing special but
showed clearly the masked man, walking confidently down the corridors of the
Auror Headquarters with the young werewolf following in his wake. It seemed
incongruous that the man should be so open in what was obvious hostile
territory, but he didn't seem concerned and moved with great confidence and
poise. The werewolf looked more worried.
       "Yes, we know that much. And that's the problem. He apparated into the
Headquarters, knocked out the guards and then walked calmly through the
corridors, that were on high alert, avoiding every guard before he released the
werewolf and then strolled through the corridors to the command offices and
floo'd out to one of our few Muggle locations and apparated. And believe me we
looked for traces of magic, which severely interrupted quite a bit of the
Muggle government. The Minister had to talk to the Prime Minister and the Queen
especially and we found absolutely nothing."
       "That... that is impressive," Elliot said.
       "Impressive it might be, however that level of training isn't easy to
come by. Whoever it is had to have Auror training and that level of power...
The list of wizards with that level of power is very short and given how
quickly he went through the wards, he has to have had insider help. And to top
it off, the werewolves brother has disappeared."
       "So what do you do now?"
       "Now?" Baross sighed, rolling his eyes. "Now we launch on a fruitless
search for a few weeks until things calm down and then I'll let you know when
it can be published and we can get back to fighting this war."
       "Oh ta," Elliot said. "So now I'm only good for publishing those stories
you don't care about?"
       Baross snorted. "My contact with you has always been for my benefit and
sometimes to yours. We've both known that."
       "I know, and I accepted that because you are a ranking Auror and as a
contact you are second to none, but why give me the throwaway stories?"
       Something in Baross seemed to snap and he glared at Elliot. "You want to
know why we didn't tell you about the werewolf we captured?" the Auror captain
snarled. "It's simple, Elliot, because you think too much!"
       "I what!" The reporter objected.
       "You. Think. Too. Much." The answer was repeated. "You would have been
all, 'Oh oh oh, what if the werewolves side with the Dark Lord? What if they do
this? What if they do that?' Well, here's a tip for you Elliot, so what!"
       Elliot ground his teeth again as he looked over at his long time Auror
contact. "If they join the Dark Lord it would make this war so much harder."
       "No," came the denial. "It makes it easier. It would be a chance to
exterminate them once and for all. So what if they join the Dark Lord, it
doesn't matter, most of them already serve him, just they are too weak to
declare it officially and the Ministry is still dithering, thanks to your
buddies in the Order, on declaring Werewolves anathema and killable on sight."
       Elliot fell back, dazed. When he'd predicted that the response to
Wilbur's article would be bad, he'd never envisaged this bad. And when his long
term Auror contact was advocating the wholesale extermination of those who
should be their allies, then things were very much out of balance.
       "Yeah, your response now just confirms it. That's why we didn't tell
you. This war is going to be bloody, we don't need factions. Either people are
going to be with the Ministry or with the Dark Lord. The sooner we get that
settled, the better and the easier it will be to fight."
       It was Elliot's turn to glare. "Do not ever think that I am disloyal
just because I do not want to kill anything that may disagree with the
Ministry. It is not a sin to think for yourself, especially with some of the
foolery that the Ministry is invoking at present.
       "Everyone will fight in this war, but I think you will agree that
ridding the world of the Dark Lord is more important that pursuing the human-
centric view that the Ministry is pushing. That's a view more suited to the
Dark Lord and you know it.
       "Besides, while this is blackmail... you don't really think the Order is
going to let Harry fight just for you and for the ideals of the Ministry?"
Elliot chuckled. "Apart from the fact that Dumbledore won't let that happen, I
can't see Sirius Black allowing it either and while Harry is of age magically,
he does listen to his Godfather and to the best Defense against the Dark Art's
teacher he had - a werewolf by the name of Remus Lupin. You want to declare war
against the werewolves and you will probably be losing the only one who can
really fight the Dark Lord."
       "Yet it was the Order who have pursued a treaty with the Vampires and
you need the Ministry to make that into a reality. Same for those negotiations
I know you are holding with the Goblins."
       "No, we don't," Elliot said brutally. "If it gets out that the Ministry
stood in the way of a treaty that would help fight You-Know-Who, how long do
you think the Minister will remain in office? Personally I'd give it about
three to four days which would be three to four too long, which is why the
Order was so frustrated with your handling of the Death Eater Werewolf. You are
right; I would have and did say everything you thought I would because it is my
belief that you have now practically guaranteed the werewolves' loyalty to the
Dark Lord.
       "He may not attack on a full moon, in fact he probably won't, but you
know as well as I do that a werewolf's senses are better than a humans at any
time, especially if they were made a werewolf at a young age. I swear Remus can
hear a flobberworm sliding at the far end of the castle when he wants and it is
that power and those abilities that you and the Ministry have just thrown away
without a thought because it suits your world view.
       "We need allies, not gifts to give to the Dark Lord, gifts he doesn't
need." Elliot sat back with a poof and took a long drink of the bitter Muggle
beer, watching the Auror over the lip of the mug.
       Baross had a thoughtful expression on his face, but after a moment he
shook himself, and Elliot sighed internally. It would take something more than
just his explanation for some to accept. They would understand in time...
       He hoped.
===
       Draco lay on his back, looking up at the canopy of his bed. He needed to
rest but he was too hyped to close his eyes. It almost felt as if he'd nicked
the snitch from between the Gryffindorks fingers but about a thousand times
better. At least the buzz did. The exhaustion plaguing his limbs was also real.
He couldn't sleep yet though; he had too much to think about, too much to work
out before he could succumb to the rest his body so desperately wanted.
       First and foremost was his mother. Followed very closely by working out
what exactly he'd done today. Or maybe the two of them went together, because
his mother hadn't seemed surprised at his actions and had just packed him into
bed without too much concern. Which would indicate she knew what that
devastating but draining attack was.
       The day had started out usually enough. He'd had a light breakfast and
done some sparring against some of the pre-set targets his mother had always
set up in the dueling room. Then he'd retired to his room to review a few of
the advanced charms she'd assigned him to learn. They were charms he could
barely perform, but Narcissa had assured him that he would be able to do them
in due course, once he could fully access his power. She'd said something about
him coming of age and accepting his heritage and if Draco was truthful with
himself, the charms had been becoming easier over the summer. But they weren't
coming easily enough yet to be useful. And he was looking forward to the looks
on many faces when he casually erected what was one of the only known charms
capable of deflecting the Cruciatus curse, a charm that required near sorcerer
like understanding of magic to power it, or when he pre-formed other offensive
charms. The three unforgivable curses were deemed that because of their ability
to disrupt magical society and because they were performable by almost
everyone. The charms his mother was teaching him were performed only by the
most powerful and most skilled of wizards and while they were capable of great
disruption to society, the rarity of wizards able to cast them meant they were
regulated to listing as merely highly dangerous and almost unperformable
charms. His mother had worn a particularly mystic smile as she'd explained that
to him.
       Still he wasn't yet capable of them and after reviewing them and
practicing a little, practice which pulled tantalizingly on his power but
didn't manifest the charms, he'd changed into his daytime formal robes. Today,
his Mother had organized a luncheon with their peers. Peers who for the most
part were loyal to the former Dark Lord. He'd decided he would never call the
man he used to revere a Dark Lord any further. The man may have been once but
now lacked the vision and the will to claim that title. He had become
corrupted. Despite that though, the young Malfoy still assigned full respect to
the Serpent Lord. He may no longer be a Dark Lord but he was still a wizard of
formidable power, even if his vision had become corrupted. That was one of the
things his Mother had taught him. Do not underestimate a foe. It was better to
be sure of their abilities and for those you did not know, overestimating their
strength and defeating them easily was far better than falling yourself. They
would get only one chance.
       The luncheon had been tense. The Malfoy's had known that their guests
were Death Eaters loyal to the Serpent Lord, their guests had known that they
were the last leaders of Lucius' Rebellion, but apart from that they were also
all part of the same social group, and had often held parties and luncheons
such as this. Refusal to attend would have been odd and they all were far too
experienced to appear out of place. And that had lead to a very tense lunch,
with each word weighed and every gesture measured for intent. He'd itched to
hex the lot of them and had been amazed by how calm his mother had been. If he
didn't know better, he would have sworn she was one of those witches without a
thought in her head by the way she'd preened and chattered with those he knew
to be deadly enemies. For her, this had simply been a luncheon between old
friends and there was nothing amiss... at least, that is what it had looked
like.
       After the last of them had floo'd out, she'd dropped the vacant yet
pleasing expression and her eyes had narrowed in concentration as she'd
reviewed the conversations. "That was enlightening," Narcissa had muttered to
her son before looking at Draco properly and giving him instructions to change
again so that they could continue their training here. Of course he'd asked
what had been so fascinating but she'd promised to tell him over dinner, saying
that she wanted him to complete his training today so that they could discuss
things without him being distracted, but apparently the Serpent Lord had had
ordered quite an odd meeting for his followers and while everyone at the
luncheon had been circumspect, some hints had been dropped as to everyone's
true allegiance. Even so, he never thought he'd say this but considering what
his mother had put him through after the luncheon, he was more than happy now
to face every Serpent Lord loyal Death Eater over a meal about a hundred times
over. The shifting eyes and stances and the ability to read the room was
essential and had been tiring but there was a reassurance there that everything
was how it should be.
       And that feeling was most definitely lacking from the afternoon.
       Draco resolutely pushed away the fear tinged anger that rose at the
thought, directed towards his Mother. He had to work this out rationally, no
matter how much he thought she had attempted to kill him because unless there
was something else there, something he wasn't seeing then the next time they
met they would be enemies and while a part of him whispered that everyone was
the enemy, the greater part of himself warned caution, this was his Mother, she
would protect him always. It was confusing and sickening and thus he had to
work it out.
       He'd been pleased, inordinately so when Narcissa had told him that he'd
have to fight, that he would be taking a direct position in battle to bring
down the corrupted Dark Lord. And the training she'd given him all summer had
just reinforced that. She trusted him enough to be able to fight, trusted him
enough that he could take care of his own problems and he had fought some very
dangerous beasts during his training, fought and subdued or killed them
outright. Today though, today she'd just sent him into the dueling room with
nothing more than the usual 'Be careful' and from then on he'd been in a battle
for his life!
       Today's enemy had been highly dangerous, very fast and extremely
motivated to kill him. It was one of the creatures they had deemed a sure kill
- as in one of those creatures that had a method of killing that did not fail -
one hit, one kill. For example wizards had Avada Kedavra, nundu had their
breath, a basilisk their eyes, a dementor their kiss, a werewolf their bite,
which while the last two were non-lethal, they would end his aspirations to
become the next Dark Lord forever. His training this summer had referenced
those creatures and they had discussed methods for dealing with them when the
usual avoidance was not either appropriate or possible but for the most part
his training had been geared towards fighting other wizards. This wasn't the
Triwizard Tournament, it wasn't a game, and he had to be ready. But even in
training, precautions had been taken.
       Today they'd been absent and it was only because of some unknown attack
that he'd pulled off, an unknown attack that had left him drained and powerless
that he'd survived.
       Draco remembered he'd been happy when he'd identified the foe for
today's battle. That was before he realized the usual safe guards were absent.
He'd been expecting to have to fight serpents at some stage. The corrupted Dark
Lord was also a Serpent Lord and his familiar, Nagini, was well known to be a
very potent serpent. Further to that, the Serpent Lord had the animagus form of
a great basilisk and through his affinity to reptiles it was rumored that he
was never unguarded, that there was always a basilisk with him. That belief
rang true to Draco, and he thought it went deeper but he couldn't prove it. It
didn't matter though, sooner or later he was going to have to face and fight
serpents, including basilisks and he had been pleased that his mother had had
the foresight to see that he was trained in how to fight and kill them. Except
THAT training was meant to be theoretical, because there was no safe way of
practicing. At least that's what Narcissa had said when they had discussed the
issue.
       She'd obviously changed her mind since somehow, for his training she'd
found a 30 foot long basilisk that was as fast and as vicious as anything he'd
ever encountered. The instant he'd entered the room, he had known something was
wrong. The taste of the air was somehow different; darker and more dangerous.
       He'd only had a moment to consider this before there had been an angry
hiss from the monster serpent and he'd felt a chill pass through his soul as he
identified what he was facing. By then it was too late to storm out and demand
an explanation since the room's containment warding was active and so he'd done
the only thing he could, made a desperate dive for cover while running his mind
back over the strategy discussions he'd had with his Mother about how to fight
a basilisk.
       First and foremost was to not look it in the eye or into the reflection
of its eye, but gazing upon it with astral eyes was permitted though dangerous
because it left the body motionless and unprotected. Second was that a
basilisk's scales were harder than armor and provided the great serpent with
more than adequate protection from most offensive charms. Charms like diffindo
would bounce off unless cast either on to the unprotected eye or into the
serpent's mouth. That meant for the most part he was limited to that magic
which actually had a physical presence and even then, only the strongest
physical presences would even register with the serpent. Third was to avoid the
poisoned fangs because even if the basilisk's gaze didn't kill you, a nip from
those fangs would. The serpent had two defenses there, the first was its venom
and the second was not as well-known but was its saliva. Even if the bite was
not envenomed, it would most likely kill, though on this serpent, the fangs
were large enough to do significant damage without needing to be poisoned in
any way.
       The dueling chamber had been configured today to provide some cover for
him, though it appeared to be a maze. It would hinder the basilisk but would
hinder him as well if he wandered aimlessly through it, Draco had realized
while he had taken stock of his weapons. He had his wands, his primary wand
strapped into the small of his back while his secondary one lay along his right
arm. He'd argued the positioning should be reversed, until his mother had
pointed out how easily his arm could be broken and in the break his wand would
be finished as well so it was better to use his primary wand only when needed
or when doing set charms and spells in controlled environments. His sword was
at his side, where any good Lord would keep it but he also had a dagger in each
boot, though he wasn't as proficient in their use as he wanted to be and a set
of throwing blades were on his right thigh. At the beginning of summer he'd
tried arguing with his mother that he hadn't needed such weapons, he did after
all have magic but she'd insisted and explained patiently that while he had
magic, most shields weren't effective against physical weapons and that a
dagger in the heart was just as fatal as Avada Kedavra. She didn't intend for
him to always use these weapons but she wasn't going to allow him to be in a
situation where he needed them and was without. Her training had been as much
about contingency as it had been about ability.
       He'd decided he would need some cover still but not the amount that the
maze was giving and so once he'd listened for the basilisk he'd risen and swept
his right hand through a grand gesture, destroying the maze at waist height.
Now he could see his way through it, and see what was coming towards him, while
the height of the walls would provide him some cover when he needed to duck and
hide. It was also high enough that the basilisk would be reluctant to slink
over the walls as the tops were jagged and uneven and would not provide enough
support for the serpent's bulk. He'd hoped. He'd dived a few pathways into the
maze then and slammed himself up against the wall so that the basilisk couldn't
see him. At that point Draco had smiled ruefully as he cut his hand on a small
piece of debris. There was a thick dust in the air which obscured vision as
well but also, probably, hindered tracking by scent so the blood shouldn't be a
problem. The injury though had reminded him that he hasn't taken into account
all the weapons. The debris itself could be used to effect against the serpent.
       The blonde had flicked his wand again, pointing it at the debris that
was lying around and levitating as many finger sized pieces as he could manage
before he hurled them in the direction he could hear the serpent. Larger pieces
wouldn't penetrate the basilisk's eyes and Draco had been rewarded with a hiss
and an almost squawking like sound of surprise as the small debris hit the
serpent.
       In as much as Draco hoped that the debris would have blinded the
serpent, he knew better than to assume that it had and so he shifted his power
around to take a peak with his astral eyes. It required quite a bit of
concentration to send the astral projection and recall it fast enough so that
your physical form was not endangered. He felt a small flash of satisfaction at
the sight of the basilisk hissing in pain, left eye closed with blood flowing
from beneath the eyelid. The other eye was flashing red and the basilisk's
mouth was open, the almost acidic venom glistening on the serpents very long
fangs. The mouth wasn't open enough though for a thrown dagger to penetrate. He
shook his head resolutely. He shouldn't be thinking about throwing a dagger yet
as he had not yet mastered his father's grace with those weapons. It was coming
to him, his Mother had assured him but he couldn't rely on his aim that much
yet.
       Draco rose and jumped, clearing several more paths on the maze. The
serpent turned towards the sound but the loss of one eye hadn't yet made the
serpent angry enough to attack without thought and the great snake hissed,
remaining good eye flashing as it examined the debris and the maze carefully.
There was a crash and a puff of cloudy air rushed overhead. The noise was
repeated and Draco frowned. What was the beast doing? He risked another astral
glance and was surprised at the logic the snake was showing. The maze was, as
Draco had hoped, still too high and the tops were too sharp for it to safely
and comfortably crawl over, and the pathways, while wide enough for the serpent
to slither through would limit it's methods of attacking and so it was using
its tail to destroy the maze, hitting the structure repeatedly and with great
force that was collapsing the walls and creating a path towards him. While the
pile of debris would not be even for the snake to crawl upon, it would not
hinder its movements much.... and flattening the maze reduced the cover
available to the serpent's attacker.
       All right, so the lesson was, it might look like a dumb, stupid beast
but even dumb, stupid beasts could reason out the best method of their survival
and most definitely did not respect the power he wielded. Draco hunkered down.
He had to find some way of taking out the other eye, or fight completely blind.
He could just cast reductos at the serpent but even with his power behind them,
it would be a stroke of luck them to be fatal, especially if he was casting
blind. If he could remove the other eye, then he could cast much more freely
and there was a chance he could aim into the beast's mouth which would do much
more damage. But to do that he would need to look at the serpent.
       But... he didn't have to look at the serpent on the side of its good
eye.
       A slow smile stretched across his features. He was approaching the snake
almost head on but to be safe and be able to cast from relative safety, all he
had to do was make the beast turn to its right. Carefully, Draco levitated some
more debris, and hurled it to his left heading towards the serpent. There was a
hiss and the soft slither of scales over the debris and while it was dangerous,
Draco risked a peak upwards. As expected the snake had reacted to the noise and
had turned its good eye towards the sound. Malfoy grinned and dived away from
the basilisk, casting a cushioning charm so that the great serpent couldn't
sense the vibrations from his movements.
       Once he was settled, he levitated more debris, this time casting it to
his right. He didn't want the serpent to get suspicious of a sound always
coming from one side. Again there came a slither of scales accompanied by an
annoyed hiss as the serpent realized again there was nothing there. It turned
back towards the maze and began hitting the structure again with its tail.
Draco shuddered sympathetically with what was left of the structure as each
thump reverberated through him. The snake was a lot stronger than it looked.
       Gathering his power, Draco had levitated more debris and rose when he
heard the hiss as the serpent turned to investigate. With one eye blind, it had
to turn to see because even basilisk's knew their best weapons were their eyes
and if any attacker was approaching, it's gaze would force them back or fix the
problem all together. That though left an opening for someone who wasn't where
he was meant to be. It appeared the serpent hadn't yet grasped the concept of
projectiles. As the beast turned, Draco rose and as fast as he could he aimed
and cast the strongest diffindo he could towards the serpent, trying to severe
the head from the body.
       Almost before he'd completed the harsh slashing movement of the charm
he'd been jumping for a new place of cover, stretching as far as he could. The
serpent may not understand projectiles... but just in case it learnt, better to
try to be away from the point of origin of the charm. It wasn't a hiss this
time from the serpent but an amazingly human like scream of pain before there
was a clatter of debris as the serpent swung back around quickly snapping their
jaws at where a foe should be. That brought a hiss of annoyance and Draco
ducked back down to cover as the serpent swept its gaze over the maze.
       His diffindo had cut into the basilisk's scaly hide and the wound was
dripping blood down the serpent to pool on the ground. It wasn't a fatal wound
though and the serpent would not bleed out from it but Draco was pleased. His
charms could at least hurt the beast and if he could continue to cut at the
serpent he would eventually win, especially if he could take out the other eye.
       The injury though seemed to awaken the serpent's blood lust and with a
loud hiss that was almost a snarl it began to spin, coiling itself tight before
uncoiling with impressive force to ram its tail into the already abused maze.
The noise of impact was incredible and Draco shuddered with the maze as the
shock reverberated through him. The structure wouldn't hold through many of
those hits and when it collapsed the basilisk would be free to attack him head
on. At that point the serpent's greater bulk and near impenetrable scales would
end the battle in its favour.
       'And this was one training session that couldn't be repeated.' Draco
thought furiously as he hunkered down, making himself as small as possible to
avoid bringing attention to himself. What he needed was a distraction,
something that would divert the serpent long enough for him to launch shards at
its other eye. Once that deadly gaze was gone, he could fight far more freely
and the destruction of the maze would no longer be critical. Desperate he
pointed his wand to the left, flicking it through the proscribed movements for
the locomotion charm and almost instantly some of the larger chunks of debris
he'd created earlier grew little legs and began aimlessly and directionless
running and scrambling around.
       The snake paused at the new noise but Draco bided his time. After being
wounded the basilisk would be cautious and would examine the situation with all
its other senses before it risked its eye. It probably wasn't as reliant on
eyesight as he was, Draco realized ruefully but a basilisk did know what its
best weapon was. He was going to have to time his strike for when the basilisk
turned to see what was making the new noises, for when the basilisk needed that
last visual check that the newly enhanced debris was not a threat.
       Draco strained his hearing, holding his breath and listening through the
pounding of his heart, so that he could hear every small shift the serpent made
while he waited for the heavier slither that would announce that the serpent
was turning.
       It never came.
       Instead the noise that came was that of the serpent spinning and an
almost deafening thud as it impacted with the maze. And this impact was
followed by a loud crack. The initial noise faded and then there came softer
cracks, the noise almost feathery and delicate. The basilisk hissed and the
blond didn't need to be a parselmouth to hear the satisfied note in the
serpents voice.
       His time was up.
       The noise of the feathery cracks was drowned as the serpent began
spinning again, preparing to hit the maze again. Draco gulped before calling
his strongest charms to mind. He still had a chance. The maze would collapse
but he could still take out the basilisk's other eye and then he would just
have to be very fast on his feet to defeat the serpent. He just had to remain
calm, remain focused and not hold back his power when destroying the other eye.
It would be a barrage, physical and magical. He only needed one splinter to hit
and while elegance, precision and conservation of magical power had been a
significant part of his mother's training, this was one situation where
overkill would not be ostentatious.
       There came the thud of impact again, and this time there was no
deafening crack but rather there was a wave like noise as the feathery cracks
spread throughout the maze. Draco shifted slightly as they whispered past his
back, feeling like a gentle caress though his battle robes and light armor. He
shifted his grip on his wand as he waited for the serpent to strike the maze
again with the blow that would destroy it. As it fell, while the debris
provided cover, that was his time to strike.
       The basilisk hissed, sounding sure of itself and in his mind's eye Draco
could see it as it drew itself up, waiting for any movement to reveal the
location of its prey. Its wounds were painful, no doubt but not debilitating
and except for the loss of one eye it was in reasonable condition. 'Well',
Draco considered, 'so was he'. This battle would come down to the final
moments; the strikes they both knew would come when the maze fell.
       The two of them waited and Draco resisted the urge to fidget. Any
movement might give away his position and he was somewhat surprised that the
serpent hadn't smelt him. He was grateful for that though and forced his
muscles to relax. Losing patience now would not be in his interests and he
thought that was why the basilisk was waiting.
       Finally the serpent hissed something before there was a final thud
against the maze and wizard and basilisk both sprang into action.
       For Draco things seemed to slow down as he leapt and spun, risking the
serpents gaze as he cast his strongest charms and flung as much debris as he
could at the snake. The fractured shards of the maze seemed to hang in the air,
spinning slowly. It would have been beautiful, almost like snowfall, if it
hadn't have been so deadly. He kept casting but his breath hitched and his gut
tightened as he realized most charms and debris were missing the mark and then
bile rose in his throat as Draco realized the serpent's eyes were closed! It
wasn't risking its other eye, not when teeth and venom would be just as
effective and it could track him down by sound and smell.
       Draco dived to the side as the serpent lunged blindly and then he
realized his mistake when the basilisk turned sharply, its head tilting towards
him, jaws half open and tongue flickering in the air. The movement had given
away his position and the serpent seemed to smile as it lunged again, this time
on target with bared fangs.
       'I'm going to die.'
       The thought was crystalline to Draco, sharp and concise with its clarity
in his mind. But at the realization, something shifted within him, filling his
heavy arms and legs with energy that burst out of him uncontrollably.
       'I am NOT going to die,' came the denial and Draco wasn't sure if he
spoke but he felt the power burst forth, brilliantly yellow and shockingly
noisy in the Malfoy Training Room.
       Power splashed every which way and the basilisk didn't even have time
for a startled hiss before the ribbons cut through it. They traveled on to
embed themselves into the rooms walls, making the entire manor house shudder
and the wards rang as the power resonated with them. Draco didn't notice any of
this because as quickly as the power had gathered it was gone and he didn't
feel himself slump forward in exhaustion. He only felt the small satisfied
smile on his features. 'I won.'
       After that, he'd woken up as his Mother had levitated him through the
house to his chambers. And then after making him drink a potion or two, she'd
left him to his thoughts but there had definitely been a pleased smile gracing
her features.
       Draco blinked, going back to the core of his problem. Had today been
advanced training or had today been an assassination attempt disguised as
training? Was his mother now the enemy?
       Draco closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting the facts come to
him. Some of the facts seemed insignificant: the way she smelt today, both
before and after his training, the soft smile that had graced her features as
she'd tucked him into bed, the lilt of her voice and some were significant: the
set of the training room, the oblique warning, the teaching of charms and
reinforcement of respect for foes. It all added to the picture and to the
decision he had made.
       Slowly he released his breath, letting it go as the tension drained from
him in a tangible wave. His limbs felt light and buoyant and Draco opened his
grey eyes to look up at the embroidered canopy of his bed. His mother was NOT
the enemy. In fact, she might be the loyalist ally he could possibly have. The
evidence was plain: the relief in her voice after he'd killed the basilisk, the
tangy smell of worried perspiration clinging to her and the way her eyes had
glittered with love. She was holding back on what that attack was but Narcissa
was genuinely relieved he had survived the basilisk. At the same time, she was
probably the only person who loved and trusted him enough to actually train him
with such dangerous techniques.
       Tomorrow they would discuss the battle and he would learn ways of
improving as well as learning exactly what he'd done to the basilisk. While
there was probably not enough time remaining in this summer to master that
power he would go to Hogwarts with a plan to bring it under his control and he
would work on it there because he could feel it now, coiled within him, waiting
for his call. So he would train until he could pull his full power to himself
at a moment's notice. There was a truism in wizarding world, one that went
somewhat against the power of blood but it was one Draco accepted - power
called to power. It was shown in the way that the mudbloods and blood traitors
flocked to Dumbledore, it was shown in the way that those of the blood had
recognized the power of the Serpent Lord before he became corrupted and Draco
knew for him to attract enough followers, he would have to show his power but
he would have to do it discretely, covertly, slowly gaining allies and strength
under Dumbledore's nose.
       He grinned. Dumbledore would keep the Serpent Lord away since it was
well known that the former Dark Lord feared the batty old man and at the
beginning of summer Draco would have rolled his eyes at the weakness but he
better understood now. Albus Dumbledore was old and potentially senile and
loopy but he was also powerful. He had allies, he knew people and more than
that he knew things about people that kept them in line, and so while he was
old, he was still a wizard to be feared. Draco would use that though.
Dumbledore would keep the Serpent Lord away which would leave him free to
recruit, to seduce and convince those who would have followed the Serpent Lord
that their true path lay with him. Yes, the Defender of Light would nurture and
protect his abilities and allies until they could bring down the Serpent Lord
themselves... and then the Light should beware.
       He... Draco Malfoy was not as insipid or as confused as the Serpent
Lord. He would not be corrupted from his purpose by anything.
===
       :Master,: the shadows interrupted his climb. He'd been climbing and
swooping, using the exercise to build up his wing muscles and hone his control.
But he was a bit tired and he aborted the climb, alighting on the inside of the
lowest goal ring. His servants, while always with him, never used that tone
unless they were serious. The quiet commentary he'd gotten used to, their
almost constant dialogue of observations and comments was all jovial. This tone
was something else. This was the tone they used when asking permission to eat.
This was the tone they used when they promised him everything. This was the
tone they used when nothing and no one would stand in their way.
       :Yes?: he replied silently, folding his wings around his body as the
slight breeze both tugged at him and cooled him.
       :We need you to cast a spell, Master. Now. At your full power.:
       They placed no particular emphasis on the word but Harry knew they meant
in his full tenshi form.
       :On whom?: he asked.
       :On Remus Lupin,: they replied before noticing his stab of uncertainty.
:It is the negation spell,: the shadows choral voice added dryly.
       Harry nodded his understanding. :Show me the spell,: he said as he
gathered himself. He would transform, cast it and transform back as quickly as
he could. While Fawkes couldn't sense him properly in his animagus form, the
phoenix or Dumbledore, or almost any other of the faculty might be able to
sense the power spike. And he didn't want them to investigate that closely. The
shadows formed themselves into the words, hanging in the air for him to read
while another couple flicked through the appropriate gestures. He wouldn't need
his wand when fully transformed, in fact trying to use his wand when
transformed would most likely incinerate it with power overload but the
gestures would make the flow of magic slightly easier for him and gave him
something to focus on when he released the spell. He should have been expecting
them to ask for this... Sirius as their... his representative could cast it,
but it would be better coming from him. And Remus would want it soon, would
need it soon to demonstrate to the werewolves that he was as good as his word
and his word had the power to give the promises the shadows had made. And since
there was no way for him to cast this spell on Remus with his permission as the
Shadow Lord, as the werewolf would probably make several connections Harry
didn't want anyone making just yet, so it had to be done surreptitiously now,
while he could access his full power.
       :Yes,: the shadows seemed to nod. :Remus will seek out Sirius before the
moon, seeking a gesture of good faith to demonstrate to the other werewolves
that we can do what we promised. And then he will take our proofs to them and
our power will speak for itself.:
       :Once they accept, how am I going to cast the spell on all of them
without them seeing me?: Harry asked curiously.
       :With difficulty,: the shadows admitted, but they dismissed the concern
for now. :Worry about that when they agree.:
       :I thought you were sure.:
       :We are but we do not like to count on things before they are absolute,:
the shadows said reasonably before they braced themselves, preparing to both
hide from the light of Harry's full animagus form as well as preparing to gorge
themselves on as much light as they could consume.
       :Stay,: Harry commanded with a hint of steel in his voice.
       :Master?:
       :You have to learn to bear my light one day, now is a good time for this
will be brief,: he explained.
       :Yes, Master,: the shadows replied, flowing back around him. There was
the tiniest quaver in their tone but they accepted his order.
       Harry intoned the words of the charm he had to cast on Remus a few
times, practicing the accompanying gesture with his hand before he seemed to
bunch up, gathering himself in the moments before his transformation. :Ready?:
       :Yes, Master.:
       Harry nodded, closed his eyes and raised his face to the sun as he drew
the mental image and willed his body to move into it. Unlike the transformation
into his current form, this transformation into his full form was not about
change but about loss. He could feel his corporeal form falling away from him,
dissolving as his essence became purely magic. It was almost as if he had been
covered in oil that gravity was pushing down his body and away from him. As the
imaginary oil flowed away from him, he emerged as pure magic, confined only by
his will into the shape of a tenshi.
       He was a beacon of light and the shadows skittered happily for a moment
but as the energy continued to flow through him, as the energy continued to
become him their skittering grew pained and he could feel them gasping as they
tried to consume his light and failed. :Stop,: he cautioned them. :Just bear
it. Just accept my light without consuming it. Just let it flow with you, to
compliment your darkness, don't fight it my servants for this light is your
companion.: For some reason the words felt right and the shadows seemed
comforted as they stopped fighting his light and tried to move with it.
       Harry smiled as they did that before he raised one hand and whispered
the words of the spell, picturing Remus in his mind's eye as the target. The
magic flowed around him, and through him, amplified many times because he was
magic before it spun out invisibly, forming what appeared to be a band that
would encircle the werewolves head to reinforce his human mind. Other tendrils
flowed behind the band like ribbons and Harry knew those would reach down,
wrapping around Remus' body to help reduce the pain of the transformation.
       He watched, though the magic of Hogwarts as the spell settled on to the
werewolf, who didn't notice a thing. This was not an invasive spell so for it
did not trigger most protections and the wards on Hogwarts Castle itself had
not even hindered it, though they had recognized the presence of magic crossing
their boundary. Harry couldn't help but look at the wards as well, noticing
their very strong glow and their anchor points. He didn't think he'd have to
break them in the future, but one could never be sure and while he had the
leisure to just look he felt he should.
       The distress of his servants reminded him this was meant to be a brief
transformation and while it had only been a minute or so, he needed to
transform back before someone or something in the castle sensed his presence.
The shadows had begun to flow with his light but they were still being hurt and
they'd need practice doing that before they could smoothly flow with it. Their
instinct was to consume light but in this case while they could consume it,
they needed to learn to work with it. Almost like swimming. One could drink
water but one could not hope to drink all the water in the lake so one went
swimming in it. The shadows were used to amounts of light they could consume,
not amounts that they had to interact with in some other way. Harry sighed as
he reverted to what he was coming to call his Halfling form. While the shadows
had assured him he could hold his true animagus form almost indefinitely he
hadn't had much chance to practice and he still wasn't used to the sensation of
weakness.
       While the transformation into his full animagus form felt like he was
emerging or lifting free of his corporeal form - and it was very like that -
the transformation back felt like he was putting on a limiter. He was putting
back on his flesh and while he couldn't deny the sense of comfort he felt when
he had a physical form, he disliked intensely the feel of his flesh limiting
the power flows. There was a wild freedom in his animagus form; he was
unconstrained and uncontainable, free to be whatever he wanted.
       :You are free in whatever form you chose, Master,: the shadows reminded
him gently.
       :Not yet I'm not,: he disagreed.
       They giggled. :Soon though.:
       :Yes,: Harry agreed. :Soon I will be free.:
       He frowned slightly, preparing to take to the air again when a fragment
of memory hit him. :Before my birthday,: he began, struggling to remember
exactly what they had said, :You told me that there was only one way to destroy
a phoenix.: He did remember rather distinctly that they had said you couldn't
kill a phoenix, you had to destroy them.
       :We did,: they confirmed.
       :And you said that there was only two ways to corrupt a phoenix,: Harry
added as more of the conversation returned to him, including the brief flash of
rage he'd felt when they had told him they could not remove the phoenix tattoo.
But the kernel of a new idea was forming... another way to bring a phoenix
down.
       :Yes, Master. A phoenix either corrupts themselves... something which
despite Fawkes' manipulative nature is highly unlikely, or you ask a dark
tenshi to corrupt him for you,: the shadows summarized.
       :Why can't I do it?: Harry asked in a hurry.
       The shadows paused at his question and Harry felt decidedly mixed
sentiments from them; confusion that he would be asking this, chagrin at
themselves that they hadn't anticipated it and cold, and calculating
consideration of the idea. He remembered what they said, he needed a dark
tenshi and that if he summoned one he'd probably kill it but that was because
he'd have been trying to force it to his will... though he rather doubted any
wizard could force a full blood tenshi to obey them. But while they had said it
would require a dark tenshi, they hadn't said why. Corruption of light was not
infection, it was something else. Similar to what the shadows did when seducing
someone but not quite since there was no consumption of light either. It was
possible that a dark tenshi would be required because a light one would not be
willing to corrupt the light of another being of light but... he was more than
willing. His servants seemed to give off a soft buzz as they discussed his
question though finally their echoing voice seemed to coalesce into one voice
that he thought he recognized as Kali's.
       : Firstly Master, you are correct. The summoning of a tenshi is not so
much a summoning but is more a request to listen, with a plea not to be
destroyed if the listening does not go well. The only thing that can compel a
tenshi is another tenshi. In fact the only successful summonings that we've
heard of or seen is when the summoner offers gifts to the tenshi for their
attention and gives further gifts if any services are rendered. And in most
cases the wizards haven't known exactly what they have discoursed with.:
       Harry smiled. While his servants insisted on the absolute meaning of
language, it appeared that sometimes even they were not immune to the urge to
be somewhat vague and imprecise.
       :Secondly,: the shadows continued, :we do not believe you can corrupt
Fawkes. You are a light tenshi, and while you are correct in your surmise that
any other light tenshi would not be inclined to corrupt Fawkes, we believe you
to be a special case for the following reasons. Fawkes does not yet fully trust
you.:
       :With reason,: Harry interrupted.
       :Oh yes, with reason and with memory of the past,: his servants added
the tantalizing hint.
       :The past?:
       :Not yet Master. We are sorry but not yet,: the shadows full voice
returned, tinged with regret and Harry knew they weren't quite ready to tell
him of that history that they had previously hinted at. They would in time, he
knew but not yet and while he could force them he felt no need to drag the
details out of them. Then their voice changed as they took up the explanation
again.
       :Because Fawkes does not trust you, he will be on guard against you and
any attempt you make to corrupt him may be enough for him to discover some of
those things we'd rather weren't noticed yet. Additionally while the corruption
of light is not infection, it does require you to possess a small bit of dark.
You Master, do not. While we admit your understanding of light and dark is
surpassed by none, this is a case where understanding is not enough. The being
corrupting the light, or even in the reverse, the corruption of dark can only
be done by those who possess both and your darkness Master, is us and is
therefore external to you.:
       :Is there anything else?: Harry asked, closing his eyes as he stretched
his wings.
       :No. We believe it would be possible for us together to corrupt Fawkes
but for the first reason. He will be on guard against us. So we are sorry
Master, a dark tenshi must be found or summoned and persuaded to corrupt
Fawkes. On the bright side though,: they giggled at their pun, :because you are
a tenshi, persuasion is likely to be easy and we will help the Serpent Lord
when he talks to them if another opportunity does not arise.:
       Harry nodded as he stepped off the goal ring, flapping his wings
powerfully to gain altitude. He still had several hours in which he was cleared
to practice flying and he intended to use them all. Fawkes would understand,
especially when he related the joy he felt in this form, joy that the phoenix
would take as pleasure in flying, which he did feel but he felt more pleasure
in being unobserved and able to be himself. His servants had clarified the
situation but still, nothing they had said went against his idea. He may yet be
able to destroy the phoenix himself but for the moment he tucked the still
developing idea deep into his mind. He would think about it and develop it
slowly, making sure he'd thought of every angle before he asked their opinion.
They would help him with the idea, even now but every now and then, it was
better to stand alone.
       He smiled as he reached the peak of his climb and folded his wings in
diving towards the ground with just the leading edges extended to allow him to
guide his motion slightly.
       There was so much freedom here and it was a sensation he savored, not
knowing how long it would be before he could experience it again. The shadows
flickered on the ground and trailed along behind him, ribbons of power and
protection that seemed insubstantial but were almost absolute. They especially
loved clinging to his corporeal wings that appeared to be an inky black,
covered as they were with his servants. He shook them briefly, dislodging the
shadows slightly so that his wings soft luminescence shone through, before the
shadows covered it again, greedily sucking up the soft light they generated.
His full light was too harsh for them at the moment but they would grow fat on
the light from his wings long before they had consumed enough. He'd told the
wizards his wings were white because he was a Halfling but the shadows had
maintained that in time he'd learn to change the color of his wings. It didn't
really bother Harry, though he was tactician enough to see the disadvantages of
snowy wings at night.
       At length as he back wings into land, he gave his servants a small
morsel of soft light. They snuggled into him, :Thank you Master.:
       :You are welcome,: Harry replied smiling as he sent them a burst of
affection as he sat down.
       They appreciated the gesture but he could feel their curiosity.
       "There's no one around," he said, ignoring their curiosity for the
moment.
       :No, Fawkes has been as good as his word on this.:
       "Then while flying is a great deal of fun, I should also attend to some
other matters while his eyes are averted," Harry explained to them as he sent
them another burst of energy to consume before he reached out with his mental
presence, brushing his mind against his beloved's occlumency shields. He could
have just showed his presence the in Dark Lord's mind but Harry realized that
while they were still feeling the indulgence brought about by finding each
other, they should set some rules and just appearing fully in the mind and
thoughts of the other, no matter how pleasurable at times could be dangerous.
The mental equivalent of knocking was essential. At least this year. They could
review in the future.
       As expected though, Voldemort's mind opened to him with a rush of soft
emotion as soon as Harry was recognized. The reasoning behind his caution also
translated and Harry could almost feel the shaking of the older wizards head. :
Harry, Harry, Harry,: the serpentine voice flowed to him. :You are far too
considerate for me,: came the chiding but the tone carried acceptance and pride
that Harry had been so logical. Hard on the acceptance though came the
exclusions. :When we lie together we are one and after this year, when the
phoenix is gone, you are mine!: The Dark Lord's thought was quiet but his tone
was possessive and Harry shivered at the raw desire he could feel from his
lover. It was echoed in him and for a long moment the two of them indulged in a
mental hug, one that caressed the other fully with their presence.
       :So what brings you to me today, little one?: Voldemort asked finally,
drawing back slightly to avoid complete intoxication. That was something they
could not yet indulge in.
       :And you say I'm too considerate,: Harry said with a smile.
       :You are. I should be the one broaching caution, yet I find myself over
extended and willing to risk more to have this thing done with.:
       :I too find myself wanting but the Muggles have a saying, patience is a
virtue and we will be patient. As for why I'm here, they are letting me
practice my animagus form and Fawkes can't communicate with me when I'm in it.:
Harry said the last with a smirk.
       There was another mental caress from Voldemort as he considered that
information, his mind forming and discarding several theories. :Do they
suspect?: He asked finally. A being of light such as Harry's animagus form
should have no difficulty in speaking with another being of light like a
phoenix.
       :No,: Harry replied. :Fawkes thinks it's just energy overload and as I
get more practiced at controlling this form then there will be less wasted
energy and thus less overload to interfere with his voice.
       Voldemort chuckled at that. :And at that point, I think my voice should
interfere.:
       Harry giggled, imagining the phoenix's response to that before a sharp
pain flashed through him.
       Xaos screamed, manifesting around him fully, writhing in agony. The
basilisk's eyes were open wide and Xaos' mouth gapped as the serpent thrashed
uncontrollably. Harry shook off the pain and jumped towards Xaos, capturing his
basilisk's head in his arms and holding him close, his hands moving almost
frantically in stroking soothing motions as he crooned deep in his throat at
the distraught serpent.
       "Xaos!" Harry called.
       :It was Xir,: Voldemort's came to him, and Harry sensed that the Dark
Lord was bringing himself under control. His mental tone though was frigid, not
towards Harry but towards someone or something unspecified.
       :Xir?: Harry asked as Xaos began to calm. The basilisk though was twined
around Harry closely, almost as if seeking comfort from his presence.
       :Someone killed Xir,: Voldemort explained, his voice overlaid with
Xatarass'. :All basilisks in our family are joined,: he continued, :and when
one dies before their time, we all feel it. We just felt Xir's violent death.
Even if it was Xir's time though, we'd have felt it, just far more gently.:
       Harry's eyes narrowed as Xaos stilled and gently stroked his nose into
Harry's face.
       :Xir has been absent for a while,: Xatarass continued. :That's not
unusual,: the serpents voice was clinical and he was obviously suppressing his
pain. :But as no one had been able to contact him the search was on. Too late
it appears,: Xatarass concluded.
       Xaos looked around. :Xir was with Xuld, Xal and Xentor,: the young
basilisk said. :Have they been found?: he asked, using Harry's voice, though
his tone was carefully controlled and betrayed no hope.
       :Not yet,: the elder serpent said.
       Harry looked into Xaos' green eyes before he turned away, staring at one
of the ever present shadows. "Find them," he instructed firmly.
       :Master?:
       "Find them," he repeated.
       :We don't know where,: the shadows said rather petulantly.
       "Then you'd better start looking," Harry said without shame, ignoring
their grumbling. He'd learnt that his servants sometimes complained or objected
to his orders, just to make sure that he truly wanted what he ordered. It would
continue for a while he figured, or at least until they were comfortable with
having a master again and they worked together as one. He didn't resent it.
They truly wanted to work with him and as such they were both learning about
the other.
       :Thank you,: Voldemort said and Harry sensed he was reluctant to speak
further and he withdrew after giving his beloved a final mental caress.
       Xatarass and the Serpent Lord would need to be alone for a little bit.
Of course that wasn't what was really best but it was all he could do at the
moment since he couldn't exactly apparate to his beloved and show him the joys
of life and love to combat the grief. No matter how much he wanted.
       "When you find them bring them to me," Harry added the instruction.
       :You assume they are in trouble.:
       "I know they are," Harry replied.
       :A reasonable assumption,: the shadows conceded. :We will bring them if
possible,: they said. :Otherwise that will be up to you or the Serpent Lord to
arrange.:
       Harry nodded before he ruffled his wings, closing them briefly over Xaos
to comfort his serpent. He had intended to spent a bit more time speaking to
his beloved but the opportunity was lost and that was something whoever killed
Xir would live long enough to regret.
       Harry flexed his claws and flapped his wings as Xaos faded back into
him, the little basilisk's mental presence clinging to him for comfort. He took
to the air again, considerably more comfortable with flying than he had been
earlier. He swept his wings down before calling his power to him, imagining
Xir's killer in front of him before he released the energy. He spun mid-air and
fired off another curse as he practiced. If he couldn't spend time with Lord
Voldemort, then he would at least do what he was meant to be doing.
       After all the more proficient he was with his animagus form, the more
power he'd be able to channel as human and perhaps he would be able to get rid
of the weakness he felt in that form. And of course, more power meant he'd be
placed in combat sooner and then perhaps he'd feel like he was doing something.
       At least he hoped he'd be allowed to do something. There was little
point to his training otherwise but sometimes Dumbledore got strange ideas.
 
 
***** Werewolf Complications *****
Weapon
Chapter 17 Werewolf Complications
===
       Remus sat on the balcony in a comfortable chair, looking up at the moon.
It was waxing and in a few days it would be full. He could almost feel the
werewolf in him twitching in anticipation but he knew any sensation caused by
the light of the moon was merely his over active imagination creating phantom
tingles in his bones and muscles. He'd gotten used to that particular sensation
a while back even though some werewolves claimed that sometimes, when the moon
was not yet full but the light was strong, they could actually feel their bones
begin to shift, but Lupin also knew that the change was only possible on nights
of the full moon. The full moon was his enemy, not the phases. He took a sip of
wine and picked up the paper that was resting on the small table beside him. A
lumos spell, embedded into the wall above him glowed softly, giving him enough
light to read by without drowning the area in its glow, allowing him to still
appreciate the breeze and the night air.
       He was worried. After that article he'd expected to be barraged with
problems but except for the one article screaming that a werewolf loyal to You-
Know-Who had been captured, there had been barely a whisper in the paper. Oh
sure they'd stated that the werewolf was in Auror custody and was being
questioned but they never named names, and never gone much further than that.
So far the fall out had been very light and he was inexplicably thankful for
that. Maybe someone in the Ministry had realized how bad it would be if they
pushed the werewolves towards the Dark Lord... or something.
       Remus was thankful, but not stupid and he scanned the paper carefully
every day to see if anything was amiss. His position, here at Hogwarts, was
available only because he was an Order member and because Harry was training.
He was not so naive to think that he would be accepted anywhere else nor did he
think here was safe, safer perhaps, but safe, no. No matter. Safe was a
relative consideration.
       He snorted remembering his encounter with the still in residence Potion
Master. Dumbledore had asked Snape to brew the Wolfsbane potion while Remus was
staying at the castle and the werewolf had been dutifully taking it and
sleeping out the night of transformation locked in his rooms. With the full
moon nearing, he had sort out with the Potion Master to make the necessary
arrangements for this time but had been rather taken back by how withdrawn the
man had been. It wasn't obvious but if you knew what you were looking for, and
you watched for a short time, you could see how the usually confident head of
Slytherin House started slightly at every small sound or unexpected flicker.
This was not a man who was in control of himself and without knowing exactly
how he knew, Remus was certain, absolutely certain that the Potions Master had
not been able to brew a successful sleeping potion for a while, let alone a
potion of any complexity. And he knew with absolute certainty that he didn't
want to trust his transformation to a potentially botched potion.
       At best he'd have a normal transformation and a belly ache in the
morning... at worst... Remus shuddered at the possibilities... who knew? There
were so many things that could potentially go wrong with a complex potion like
Wolfsbane Potion that the number of possible outcomes was astounding and while
unlikely to be fatal, the werewolf knew there were fates worse than death and
those fates were especially likely with a botched potion that affected one's
mind as Wolfsbane potion did. Spending the rest of his life, trapped with his
animal mind or with no mind at all was not appealing.
       And so, despite the fact it was practically an official Marauder Law to
'Make Snape's life hell', he'd decided to show some maturity and had tapped the
Potion Master in the hallway outside the dining room when they'd gathered for
lunch. The suppressed jump that he'd seen had confirmed his decision and he'd
merely informed the greasy haired man that this moon he would not be requiring
the potion. It was a testament to how stressed Severus was that he didn't even
sneer or make some derogatory remark about werewolves. He'd merely nodded his
acknowledgment of the words before walking into the room for his meal. Remus
though hadn't missed the slight, very slight signs of relief in the man but
he'd held back on any comment as well, because truthfully he felt relieved
himself. If he couldn't contact the somewhat unknown party, he would just have
to strip out one of the rooms and hole up in it. He'd suffered through the
transformation without Wolfsbane in the past, and Remus had no doubt he'd be
doing it again in future.
       As for the breaking of the Marauder Law... Remus decided with a smile
that he just wouldn't tell Padfoot. Even if his oldest friend found out, he was
fairly sure that he could convince the canine animagus that it had been in his
best interests not to demand that the potion be made for him this moon.
       He took another sip of wine, and flipped a few more pages over, scanning
them carefully for any news. He went through the paper in the morning of course
but a thorough examination had to wait until the night when everyone seemed to
calm down. He was reaching out to grasp his goblet again when a hoot startled
him and Remus was almost childishly proud of the fact that he nudged but caught
the glass without spilling any of the wine as an unknown owl ghosted silently
into his light and landed on the table.
       It somewhat presumptuously held out its leg to him and he could see a
note tied there. The owl was black, with the slightest dappling of brown on its
wings and had huge yellow eyes that watched him closely. Remus reached into his
pocket, ignoring the way the owl fussed slightly when he didn't immediately
reach for the note and after a moment of fumbling he brought out a noticeably
squished owl treat and offered it to the bird who accepted it with obvious care
to avoid nipping his fingers with its large hooked beak. The bird calmed,
forgiving him the delay as he then reached out to untie the note. Once the note
was untied he stroked the owls head once or twice but the bird began fussing
again and with a few quick steps, talons clicking on the table top, it launched
itself into the air and disappeared into the night on silent wings, leaving
Remus to wonder after it.
       He didn't recognize the bird but that wasn't particularly unusual. The
Order for example had a whole aviary full of owls in the attempt to confuse
anyone trying to intercept their messages a different bird was used every time.
He shrugged as he looked down at the parchment. Really, the owl wasn't
important. The message was. But he had no idea who it was from and the writing
of his name gave him no clues as to the sender. The parchment was unadorned;
his name printed clearly with careful calligraphy and the wax seal was just a
circular impression, giving no hint about the originator. For most wizards,
they wouldn't have cared who sent him the parchment, but he'd been targeted in
the past because of that bite and old habits died hardest.
       This letter could be almost anything - a howler, a portkey in disguise,
a parchment bearing almost any other trap or spell - or it could be just a
letter but he wasn't going to take chances. He picked up his wand, ready for
anything before he broke the seal and unfolded the parchment. The missive
inside was short, but he gasped as he read the method of address. Whoever had
sent this, knew exactly who he was and while they had been discrete with the
outside addressing, the writer felt no need to be as subtle within.
       To the Werewolf Pack Leader, Remus Lupin, the letter began, and Remus
felt a mild stirring of surprise as the letters seemed to waver and some began
unravelling. Quickly he grabbed his wand and placed the tip on the parchment
and the words stabilized. He smiled as they stopped, suspecting now, for sure,
who the letter was from but still resisting the urge to look at the signature.
The parchment was most likely loaded with charms but since none were directed
against him, he hadn't felt even a whisper of threat. He was reassured though,
while they were happy to refer to him by his rank, the probable writer was
discrete with the addressing and he had the feeling that if it had not have
been him, with his unusual aura because of the werewolf and his wand, then the
words would have unravelled completely before the letter could be used to
incriminate anyone. The werewolves would be allies were nothing if not
discrete. He took a deep breath and started again.
       To the Werewolf Pack Leader, Remus Lupin,
       Firstly, we would like to thank you for the opportunity you gave us to
openly lay out our proposal to the werewolves. While we had desired to be
specific, you will acknowledge that without a face to face meeting that was
always going to be somewhat difficult and your request to meet made it possible
for us to clarify to you and therefore to your brethren any number of points in
our proposal that we feel would probably have been over looked, or
misunderstood.
       Secondly, we would like to apologize for failing to anticipate that some
further questions and queries would arise and that we had left in place no
means to contact us. In the event that the werewolves decide to ally with us,
something we are confident will happen shortly, we would be establishing means
of communication but we should have foreseen that at least some level of
communication would be necessary now, during what we shall deem the negotiation
phase.
       To correct that mistake, we would encourage you, or any other pack
leader to go to the clearing in which we last spoke and to tap their wand on
the small piece of parchment that is currently affixed to the centre of the
clearing, saying the words 'I wish to discuss an alliance', and one of our
representatives will be there within minutes no matter when the call is made.
For ease of communication though we would request that you keep the number of
werewolf representatives to a minimum but leave this choice entirely in your
hands. If for any reason we need to converse with the werewolves directly, we
will send you an owl requesting your presence for discourse.
       Once a full agreement is made, a more permanent and less cumbersome
means of communication will be set in place but for now, we are confident that
this means will address the safety concerns we are sure we both are feeling.
       Once again we thank you for your patience and willingness to treat with
us and hope that any questions that have arisen since the time of our last
discussion may be answered with due haste.
       Our kindest and most sincere regards,
       Viable Option Number Four
       With a snort of laughter Remus flicked his eyes once more over the
letter. He could almost see the smirk on the representative's face as they'd
signed off the letter he now held. That man had represented power, was power
but in answering the werewolf's questions at their meeting the lycanthrope had
seen that there was a man beneath that power and that was what had convinced
him mostly that this option was viable and wasn't merely the temporary
sanctuary leading to destruction that the Dark Lord offered.
       He blinked again. He'd never really thought of the dark path like that
before, but with a burst of insight he could see that his observation was true
and he knew what would happen if he didn't fight with proverbial tooth and nail
to avoid going to the Dark Lord this time. A moment ago he would have fought
the decision but so long as the usual stipulation remained, that individuals
could serve where they would, he would have accepted it as the choice of the
pack, even while he lead those members of the pack inclined to a more peaceful
solution down his path. Such a split would have been disastrous and a slow
death for his kind, Remus realized with a shudder. The Ministry would have
persecuted them, and while the Dark Lord would have supported his followers, he
would also see those who didn't follow him and would eventually find excuses to
rid himself of those followers who were not deemed loyal. This wouldn't happen
while they were still fighting but in the event the Dark Lord won, it was only
a matter of time.
       And speaking of time... The werewolf looked up at the moon. It was
nearly full and casting enough light that he could see the edges of the
Forbidden Forest once he moved out of the lumos charm that was illuminating his
copy of the Daily Prophet. It was bright enough that he wouldn't do something
stupid like trip and break his neck, or anything else that might be cause for
suspicion. He folded the letter carefully and tucked it into his breast pocket
before picking up the paper and heading in, shutting the door to avoid having a
bug infestation in his quarters, before he dropped the paper on his bed, picked
up his cloak, and headed out the door for a late night stroll.
===
       "Get ready," the shadows said aloud, swirling around the clearing where
Sirius had been camped for the last few days.
       Sirius looked up sharply at them. He was feeling more than a little put
out with them at the moment and they knew it and had been conspicuous with
their absence over the last few days. Oh they'd been around enough to make sure
he didn't get into trouble and that his true identity was not discovered but
that was about all they'd been around for. He hadn't particularly minded when
they'd had him break the captured Death Eater Werewolf out from under the
Ministry's nose but he was less than impressed when they'd insisted that he
chaperone the man for a few days.
       The werewolf, one Gideon Prayleor, had been very impressed with him and
very thankful for a day or so, obeying his instructions without question but
then, after the shock of freedom had worn off, he'd begun questioning Sirius
and had taken to following him everywhere in the hopes of gaining some
information about him for the Dark Lord. It was so utterly transparent that
even after Sirius had confronted him, Gideon had merely shrugged, admitted
that's what he was doing and then kept on doing it! It had been more than a
little frustrating to stay 'in character' as it where for days especially when
the only help the shadows had given him was a bit of warning one time when the
werewolf had attempted to remove his mask while he was sleeping. No, it had not
been a good few days for Sirius and he was feeling more than a little irate
with the shadows and their planning. There was absolutely no reason why he
should be summarily assigned the task of watching the Death Eater when he could
have just dumped the werewolf at one of Voldemort's strong holds and left it at
that. Word would have gotten back to the Dark Lord as to who had rescued him
and Sirius was sure the Serpent Lord would have been suitably thankful. If the
shadows weren't sure of that then hell, he could have dumped the werewolf in
Voldemort's lap with the shadows assisting his apparation and then been on his
merry way, unencumbered. But no... they had insisted that the werewolf needed
to stay with him for a day or so and thus Sirius had been stuck in his persona,
and stuck with the job of babysitting a known escaped felon while he waited for
the shadows to set up whatever it was that they needed to organize.
       The irony, while not appreciated, was not lost on him.
       The breakout had gone smoothly, though it had probably done nothing to
establish him as something other than the Dark Lord's servant and the shadows
has been honest enough to admit that, though they insisted that it was
necessary. It had, though, more than established him as a very powerful wizard
since the shadows had provided their very pervasive assistance. The complex
holding the werewolf, the Auror Headquarters, was of course warded against
apparation and the shadows hadn't felt like breaking the wards but there were
secure sections, guarded rooms that were available for apparating into and they
were used to transport high level criminals who could not be trusted to the
floo network, which was after all public and could, with the right preparation
be intercepted. The safe apparation rooms were of course heavily guarded with
four Aurors standing at the meridian points and the room sealed until the right
combination on the locking ward was tapped out with a wand. He'd apparated into
the room in a crouch, already casting the stunning spells and he'd fired front
and left to catch those two Aurors off guard before somersaulting to his left
and spinning, generating a shield charm that the shadows angled for him to
reflect the incoming stunner spells at the Aurors who had been to his right and
behind him. As each of them had fallen to the others spell, the shadows had
chuckled before detailing the pattern to tap out on the ward and he'd slipped
out of the room and down the darkened corridor before the platoon of back up
arrived. After all, even if one took out the Auror guards, no one was meant to
be able to get out of those rooms that quickly.
       While his entry had unavoidably put the place on full alert and that
would have caught most regular intruders, it was only a minor inconvenience for
a wizard guided by Harry's servants. They'd lead him into offices and down
corridors scant seconds before they were flooded with Aurors and then they'd
lead him up into a small crawl space before they'd let him drop back down into
the cell block. There had been some warding spells in the crawl space to
prevent anyone doing what he'd done which was to evade the guard station that
was necessary for entry into the cell areas but they'd been easy to disarm
silently, even for him. Then it was merely a matter of slipping down the
corridors, wrapped in the shadows to avoid calling attention to himself since
at least some of these inmates would have sold him out until he found the cells
with silver locks and the particular cell which held the Death Eater werewolf.
       The man had blinked at him with something akin to awe as he'd entered
and after magically unlocking the chains, he'd merely looked at the werewolf
and said 'You will come with me,' in a tone that was not a question and brooked
no disobedience. The shadows which had been rather ostentatiously swirling
around him had made him appear far more powerful than any wizard and the
werewolf really had no other choice but to follow. It had taken them slightly
longer to get out of the building than it had for Sirius to infiltrate but the
werewolf was fairly young and reasonably fit and had followed without complaint
or overt fear as Sirius and the shadows had lead him back through offices and
corridors, and more than once into a crawl space to avoid detection but they'd
eventually emerged into a reasonably large office with a cheery fire burning on
the hearth and an ornamental jar of floo powder sitting beside it.
       Gideon had grinned at that, suppressing a full laugh and had merely
asked "Where to?" as he'd walked towards the fireplace.
       "Windsor House," the shadows said while silently giving Sirius
instructions. :Go there then grab him and apparate immediately.:
       Gideon had shrugged not recognizing the destination but not caring since
any other destination would put him in further danger until he got his hands on
a wand again. For the moment he was at the mercy of his rescuer and since that
man had proven to be very slick, he saw no reason to doubt their ability now.
The two of them had floo'd practically on each other's heels and Sirius had had
a glimpse of some startled muggles before the rather richly appointed room
they'd tumbled into disappeared with his apparation and they'd landed back in
the neat camp he'd made a few hours earlier.
       It had taken Gideon a few moments to get his bearings and Sirius had
used the time to build up the fire while he questioned the shadows. :Apparation
trail?:
       :Even if they find where you floo'd out to, we have already removed the
trace magic,: they assured him and answered a few other questions while dancing
around the main one of why they'd brought the werewolf to his camp.
       "That was bloody brilliant!" Gideon had gushed after a few moments of
silence once he had established that they were at whatever destination they
were meant to be. "I didn't think anyone could infiltrate and then move around
the Auror Headquarters so freely. I don't think they did either," he'd added
with a laugh.
       "I have certain advantages," Sirius had replied at the shadow's
prompting.
       "Perhaps but infiltration, extraction and escape by one wizard, without
a running battle is unheard of," Gideon said forcefully before looking around
and noticing he was in the proverbial middle of nowhere. "Now what?" he asked.
       Sirius had touched his fingers to the centre of his forehead as he
listened to the shadows and he resisted the urge to groan. After they'd
finished talking he'd rather presumptuously had turned to Gideon and made an
announcement. "Now, in exchange for my rescue of you, you will stay with me for
a few days and during that time you will not use magic. After that, I'll take
you to another contact and then you are their problem. You may communicate with
your master if it does not send up a magical flare otherwise you will just
accompany me quietly. Any questions?"
       "No, Shadow Lord."
       "I am not the Shadow Lord," Sirius had snapped. "I'm merely the servant
who got the job of getting you out of there."
       Gideon had, had the good taste to chuckle a bit before bowing slightly,
"and for that you have my thanks."
       "We are safe here," he'd nodded his acceptance before continuing. "But
since I was not really prepared to grab you, you will forgive me if I now make
the arrangements to pass you onto the next contact, and that is something you
can help me with."
       Gideon had looked almost hurt but understanding. He'd looked around the
small camp and it was obvious it was set up for one wizard, not two and while
the man before him had been friendly and didn't radiant power as the Serpent
Lord did, there was a sharp edge of alertness that he was wary of. The man was
the shadows servant but he was also his own master. "I can help you?"
       "You can write the letter," Sirius had said, gesturing towards his
parchment and quills. "Let's get this letter off, then you can talk to the Dark
Lord all night for all I care just so long as you don't wake me," he'd added as
the werewolf had sat down and prepared to write.
       Sirius grimaced at the recollection before looking over at Gideon. The
werewolf was ready to leave and they only needed the word. The last few days
had been annoying and the shadows' reluctance to explain why they needed him to
baby-sit had rankled but Sirius had a theory about that, one he'd question them
about later, because if true, it was a remarkable bluff they had pulled, and he
always appreciated a good prank.
       :Go now,: the shadows said, giving Sirius the visualization of his
destination as he placed one hand on the werewolf's shoulder and his magic
reached out to drag him along in side long apparation.
===
       No matter what the letter had said, Remus was more than a little
surprised when he heard the pop of apparation even before he'd returned his
wand to its holster at his side after tapping the parchment and saying the
words. He'd expected that he'd be waiting at least a few minutes but apparently
Viable Option Number Four was far more ready to treat with the werewolves than
even he'd thought.
       "I don't believe this!" The harsh accusation at least answered the
question of how their dialogue would begin this time and Remus flicked his eyes
to the rather young man that had accompanied the Shadow's representative.
       "I do not believe this!" The cry was repeated, accompanied by an
accusative stab of a finger. "I do not believe you got me out of the Auror
Headquarters just to dump me on a bloody member of the Order of the Phoenix.
Look, I thank you for getting me out but I am not going straight back in. I'm
out of here."
       The shadow's representative merely raised one eyebrow. "And where do you
think you will go?"
       "Back to You-Know-Who," the man said looking around but not recognizing
the forest even with the moonlight streaming down between the spindly limbs of
the trees.
       There was an undignified snort and Remus just continued to watch as this
played out. The last though had given him enough information for him to
recognize that this must be the Death Eater Werewolf that had been captured...
and, it appeared, freed. He'd think about the implications of how the werewolf
had been freed later.
       "Ah, back to your Lord. A man I happen to know you have not been in
contact with since before your rescue, and who is unlikely to take your rescue
as anything but a trap."
       "I'll just tell him you rescued me."
       "Without confirmation from the shadows, do you really think your Lord
will believe that? I rather imagine he'd be more inclined to believe you were
released deliberately, possibly to track down the location of his stronghold.
And that is of course assuming you even got that close to your Lord again,
something I doubt given his survival instincts," the shadow representative
spoke softly, with no hint of any emotion. "Now you could go back to the Aurors
but I doubt they'd treat you too well, or you could attempt to hide amongst the
muggles, something that will leave you hunted after the first moon, which is,
rather conveniently for me, in a few days. So no, my little werewolf, you will
stay here while your pack leader and I discuss a few things and then you will
accompany him."
       The werewolf still looked rebellious.
       "Or there is one more option," the masked man said quietly, ignoring the
look of hope on young Death Eater's face as he drew his wand. "If you truly do
not wish to accompany your pack leader then I'll make the arrangements right
now for your file in the Ministry to end with the statement 'DDI' and that will
mean that no one will bother coming for you."
       "DDI?"
       "Died during interrogation," Remus supplied softly.
       "You wouldn't!" The young werewolf objected. "You wouldn't get me out of
there just to kill me," he raged but was wise enough not to raise his hand
against either.
       The shadow representative said nothing and didn't even so much as blink
as he remained standing there, wand drawn, awaiting the werewolf's decision
with as much interest as one would feel when told that the fashions had changed
from favoring blue shirts to red, in Daroobalgie, Australia, which is to say,
with no interest at all.
       The man's stoic outlook was not wasted on the young werewolf who
relented with a subdued and fearful shudder. "Alright, I will go with the Pack
Leader but if he hands me back over to the Aurors, I am going to try to run."
       "It does not concern me what you do while in your pack leaders care,"
the shadow representative said, dismissing the matter entirely and Remus
couldn't help a bark of laughter.
       "What he means to say," Remus said for the benefit of the Death Eater
Werewolf, "is now that I can confirm to the Gathering that the Shadows rescued
you in good faith with no thought of reward, your part in negotiations between
the Werewolf packs and the Shadow Lord is over." The older werewolf turned
towards the shadow representative, giving him a respectful nod. "That is very
well played," he said with admiration.
       Remus thought he could detect a hint of a smile as the man replied.
"Thank you but Gideon's presence here is merely a side issue and your desire to
speak provided a convenient opportunity to give him back to your custody."
       "I did wish to speak," Remus said before turning towards the now named
Death Eater. "Gideon, if you could please excuse us, I will be with you shortly
and you have my word as a Pack Leader and member of the Order, I will not turn
you over to the Aurors, the Unspeakables or to the Order but rather, since the
shadows so obviously desire it, I will take you to the Gathering with me and
from there, you can accompany any of the pack leaders to go where you will. At
that point I suspect that should you desire to return to the Dark Lord, the
Shadow Lord would be willing to confirm to your master that he had a hand in
your rescue."
       The slight nod from the shadow representative was enough and Gideon
bowed low towards him.
       "I lead to serve," Remus intoned the ritual phrase, heedless of their
audience.
       "We follow to remember," the Death Eater replied before backing away to
give them the appearance of privacy.
       The shadow representative waited a moment before making an encompassing
gesture. "So what did you wish to discuss, Mr. Lupin?" the man asked, his voice
light and friendly but giving no clue as to his identity.
       Remus took a deep breath. He'd thought about trying to approach the
topic circumspectly but with the shadows unexpectedly bringing him the captured
werewolf, which explained very nicely why the Ministry had gone quiet on their
capture. Not even the Ministry was stupid enough to say they had captured a
Death Eater who had been rescued probably a day or so later without significant
fireworks given the complete lack of any disturbance or rumours. Announcing
that type of escape would be so disastrous that even the Ministry knew that. It
was a very transparent play from the shadows to garner support but one that
made him feel better about his choice and he decided simply to go with the
truth and to explain as simply as he could what he wanted and why.
       "You have managed to convince me," he began, "that an alliance with you
is something that we should consider, something I will be pushing for. It's no
secret that I would oppose the Dark Lord but with the Ministry's continued
reluctance to give the werewolves any form of equality and their alliance with
the Vampire Families, I have found myself unable to truly advocate that path
for the werewolves. I will continue to serve the Order but my service will be
my own, individually. Your offer and your actions have convinced me that the
werewolf packs should ally with your forces, despite the rather anarchical path
you wish us to declare in public.
       "I like to think that I will fight very hard for what I believe in, but
with that said, I believe the majority of the Pack Leaders will be against this
alliance because it is unknown. Never doubt your actions with Gideon will help
but some will see the alliance that is assumed between the Dark Lord and the
Shadows and will point out that you would have rescued Gideon without our
alliance."
       "Eh... no they wouldn't have," Gideon interrupted. "I'm sorry Pack
Leader but if the others assume that, they are wrong. The Dark Lord spoke to me
after I was captured, and while he was regretful that I had been captured, he
instructed me to collect as much information as I could, even then. He did say
he would take care of my brother but he didn't once offer a rescue, not that I
expected it."
       "Ah," Remus said in acknowledgement. "While that may be the case Gideon,
some of the Pack Leaders will not heed that even when you tell them, so for the
moment let me continue with my assumptions."
       "Yes, Pack Leader."
       Remus turned back to the shadow representative who hadn't moved during
the brief break. "As I was saying, at least some of the pack leaders will,
rightly or wrongly assume that you would rescue Gideon anyway because of your
alliance with the Dark Lord. Gideon will convince some, but others will remain
convinced of their assumptions.
       "Your case for an alliance is not hopeless though. The Blood Oath you
have assured us of will also sway many towards viewing this alliance
favourably, and combined with the rest of your original offer, I believe the
pack will be split. This is not to say that you do not offer enough! I cannot
stress that strongly enough, it is just that your path is completely new to
us," Remus lowered his head as if ashamed.
       "My influence, such as it is within the Werewolf Packs, will at least
ensure that your offer is considered fairly but I am never one to argue half a
case and when I back something... well I'm honest enough to admit that when I
back something, that is the outcome I want. I would ask therefore that you give
me one more final piece of proof about your intentions to take to the Pack."
       "And that would be?" Sirius asked when the shadows prompted him.
       "You mentioned a charm that could be used in place of Wolfsbane potion
to help a werewolf keep their human mind during the change."
       "I did, and I also mentioned that it had to be cast by someone of
formidable power and even then it failed more often than not."
       "That is true," Remus acknowledged, ignoring Gideon's start of surprise
at the possibility of a charm that would help during the change. Remus
suspected Gideon had never had Wolfsbane potion given to him so the concept of
being human during a full moon, even if not human shaped was something
intriguing. "That is quite true," Remus repeated. "But I have done some
research on that charm and must admit I had heard of something like it but had
always dismissed it as wishful thinking. My research though would indicate that
even if the charm fails, so long as the werewolf in question was focused during
the change, then they would feel some effects of it, right up until their
desire to remain human was drowned by the pain. And that is when the charm
fails.
       "I am certain that if cast on me, I will be able to see some effects of
the charm, even if it ultimately fails and would therefore request that before
the next full moon, the charm is cast on me. I believe that a combination of
the effectiveness of the charm, your actions with Gideon and the loopholes you
have generously allowed with this offer of alliance will convince most that
your alliance is the path we should take but I believe that it will require all
three to surmount the trepidation at taking the new path."
       The shadow representative nodded slowly. "Why not ask for Wolfsbane?"
       Remus smirked, "Because you could just buy it which proves nothing about
your Potions Master, or your intentions. It just proves you have the galleons
to get it."
       Sirius looked down reflectively. :He's got you there,: he said to the
shadows.
       :We know,: they replied, unconcerned.
       :You want to cast the charm?: Sirius blurted mentally.
       :Well, yes, that's why he wanted to meet us,: the shadows said easily.
       :Then how do we get Harry here to cast it, without Remus recognizing him
since if power is required he should cast the charm.:
       :Our master already cast the charm, Sirius,: the shadows said. :We are
more concerned with this assumption of an alliance between the Shadow Lord and
the Dark Lord. Will you give us control for a moment?:
       Sirius was mildly surprised but more amused to hear that Harry had
already cast the charm on Remus so he held back his questions and let the
shadows take control of his body. Like last time it didn't hurt and he could
observe everything and he knew he could take control back at any time but it
would be quicker if they could talk through him.
       "We are agreeable to casting the charm on you, Pack Leader, if you
accept that this charm will not be as effective as having our leader cast it
due to the differences in power."
       "That is acceptable," Remus said quietly.
       Sirius grinned tightly as the Shadows covered up Harry's pre-involvement
rather neatly but they continued after a small acknowledgement of Remus'
consent. "However we are concerned about this assumption of an alliance between
ourselves and the Dark Lord."
       To everyone's surprise Remus just burst out laughing but before he
answered, he brought out his wand being careful to keep the gestures public and
non-threatening and cast a silencing charm between Gideon and himself. There
were some things the younger werewolf did not need to hear. "You can say all
you want that it is only rogue shadows dealing with the Dark Lord," the Pack
Leader said, all traces of mirth disappearing. "But I am not stupid. The
presence of the man who drove the Malfoy Death Eaters and the Vampires out of
the Ministry speaks for itself. Either the Shadows are broken into two very
powerful forces - those who support the Dark Lord and those who support the
Shadow Lord, or they are one force, playing all sides of the game, with or
without the Shadow Lord's knowledge.
       "But even if you enter into this alliance with the werewolves without
the Shadow Lord's knowledge, I trust him enough to see that it will be
honoured... Oof!"
       Remus was taken by surprise by the inhuman speed of the shadow
representative when his legs were swept out from under him and something that
felt like the Hogwart's Express slammed him to the ground and pinned him there.
When he recovered he looked up with no small amount of fear to feel the tip of
a wand between his eyes and the man's pitch eyes boring down into him. Out of
the corner of his eye he could see Gideon sprawled on the ground in a
petrificus totalus body bind, his eyes watching the proceedings even though the
silencing spell meant he could not hear though Remus couldn't even feel a mote
of relief at that as he was drawn back into the shadow representative's eyes. A
moment ago they had been normal human eyes, black of course with white sclera,
but now they were completely black and from the way they were tensed the
shadow's representative was holding back some very powerful spells by force of
will alone.
       "And what do you know about the Shadow Lord?"
       Remus looked up carefully. The voice was soft but full of menace and the
wand between his eyes was stable as was the other hand that was latched on to
his throat. Both his arms were pinned by the man who straddled his chest and
with the angle that he'd fallen he couldn't even get enough leverage with his
legs to attempt to get free. Even if he could the pressure forcing him down
felt absolute.
       "I know enough to know that I trust him," Remus carefully reiterated the
gist behind his last words.
       :Stop it!: Sirius screamed at the shadows, attempting to take control of
his body back but they had gone from being playfully self-assured into enraged
killers and their hold was very strong. For a moment Sirius was forced to
wonder if these were really rogue shadows. :Stop it, stop it, stop it!: he
continued to scream at them.
       :No,: they replied distantly to him. :He knows too much.:
       :That's not his fault! That's yours for not playing the game better!:
Sirius felt faintly sick with himself, using the shadows term for what they
considered this - a game - but one where they were on the verge of killing his
best friend. He concentrated on trying to move his arm.
       "That is not important."
       "What is important?"
       "Can he trust you?"
       :Of course Harry can trust Remus,: Sirius cried when he heard his body
ask the question, seizing on the opportunity to cast as much doubt as he could
into the shadow's collective thoughts. :I'd be more worried about Harry
trusting you lot right at the moment. He gave you permission to get the
werewolves, he did not give you permission to kill his friend!:
       Remus apparently could see the distinction as well. "Is that can the
Shadow Lord trust me, or can the shadows trust me?"
       "Can he trust you?"
       "Yes."
       The answer was unfeigned and sincere. And Sirius flung himself off Remus
with enough force to send himself flying as he finally hammered his will
through to his body, cutting off the shadow control. He hit a tree and slumped
there, breathing heavily but brokenly as the fear he had felt but his body had
not felt slowly began to ebb from him. The shadows didn't bother to apologize
and oddly Sirius was thankful for that. Right at the moment he didn't want to
hear it from them.
       Remus sat up slowly, still being careful to make sure his movements were
not threatening as he moved to sit cross legged on the ground. "The day that
the son of Lily and James Potter cannot trust me is the day after the universe
dies," he enunciated clearly.
       Sirius said nothing, he was still too busy trying to get his breathing
under control but the shadows flickered around him arguing amongst themselves.
Some of them wanted to seduce Remus now, others were happy if he gave his word
not to betray them. Another faction was saying that Sirius was right, it was
their own complacency that had brought about this problem and Sirius was
thankful that at least some of the shadows were being reasonable but there was
another faction screaming that they should just kill the werewolf and deal with
the consequences. Thankfully that suggestion, while it had been the driving
force behind the pressure on Sirius to strike Remus, was very quickly quashed
by the other factions who pointed out that their master would not be happy if
they killed Remus and would likely be so unhappy that he would reject them.
None of the factions wanted to risk that. With all the factions Sirius could
hear arguing there was one thing they all agreed upon - they'd screwed up. As
the silence extended as the shadow factions kept arguing, Sirius knew he had to
say something.
       "They are... discussing their options," Sirius said and he knew as he
spoke that Remus recognized the difference in his voice.
       "Oh?"
       "It appears they miscalculated."
       "Perhaps but I would prefer to think that an alliance is based on
trust."
       "They prefer alliances based on mutual benefit with neither knowing too
much about the other."
       "What do you prefer?"
       "Mutual respect," he shrugged, "and where possible, friendship."
       Sirius looked off to the side as the shadows argument ceased. For an
instant he thought it was in response to his words but then a very soft but
very powerful voice spoke. It was deep and echoy even though it was a singular
voice and the canine animagus knew that this was one of the most senior
shadows, one that was respected by the others.
       :We have miscalculated, this is true,: it began, :but the game is
nothing without surprises, without challenges. Satisfaction in victory comes
not from the certainty of its attainment but from the struggle and we have been
inured of the struggle for too long. Now this is not a disaster. Of all the
mistakes we could have made this one is the least of any. The werewolf is
intelligent and we should have expected him to make the connection between our
helpers and our master and then make the deductions based on actions. However,
he has not gone running to the Order, he has not confronted our Master, he has
merely carried on. I will grant, he could have been waiting for a time to
blackmail us but this has not happened and we are forced now to deal with this
issue.
       :We have been unaccountablylucky,: the shadow continued. :So far the
Order has accepted that the help rendered to the Serpent Lord was given by
rogue shadows, and that those shadows and their helpers will fall into line
when they encounter our Master. If there was such a thing as rogues this would
be true and we will have to make arrangements now for a few 'rogues' to be
caught and submit to our Master in a more public way than the lie we spread
earlier to cover our Master's mistake. This holds true of our helpers and of
this particular helper. He has been seen to be doing our bidding at the Dark
Lord's side, and is therefore, to most wizards one of the rogue shadows. He
cannot be seen now to be doing the Shadow Lord's bidding without first being
converted and that conversion should be public for maximum effect but I also
believe we should make him the focus of rogue shadows, make him one of their
primary helpers. This accounts for his power and will account for any other
necessary actions. It is only because we have used this helper in this
situation, where he has been now recognized as working for both the Serpent and
Shadow Lord that has allowed the connection to be made and we will be far more
careful in future.
       :We must now inform the Serpent Lord that he is not to refer to any
alliance with the Shadow Lord. He has an alliance with the Shadows, but the
Shadow Lord opposes him, which is the reason behind his desire to seduce our
Master. Thus far the only people to know of the alliance between the Shadow
Lord and the Serpent Lord are some of the Serpent Lord's ardent followers and
those we have marked. The vampires know who the Shadow Lord will be and while
Xeoaph doubts, he is not certain and in that uncertainty lies our power.
       :Now, for this werewolf, seducing or killing him would earn us our
masters ire and the latter would most likely give the werewolves to the Serpent
Lord. However it is his words that we can use to play this game. He has
concluded that either we are one force playing all sides or we are two forces
supporting opposites. To the Order, the Ministry, the Vampires and any who may
oppose us, as of now we are two powerful forces - the rogues and the faithful.
And to those we trust, those who know what we are we are one force, playing all
sides of the game.
       :This werewolf has stated he trusts our Master, as well he should since
our Master trusts him but we want him to trust us, trust that no matter which
one he believes us to be, he trusts us, so we need to give him a reason to
trust us, and then bind that reason to us. And that shouldn't be too hard.:
       Sirius got the impression that the old shadow was watching him with
undisguised calculation and he suppressed a shiver. He'd agreed to help the
shadows, he'd agreed to help Harry but he was not going to become an absolute
slave, or some bit they tossed around only to dance to their purpose. :You'll
have to give me a reason to trust you first,: he snapped with passion, their
pervious actions not forgotten. :The only reason you didn't kill him is because
I stopped you.:
       The old shadow chuckled as the calculation vanished to be replaced with
a feeling of grudging but genuine respect and Sirius got the impression of true
amusement, not at his expense but at the outrage he could feel from the other
shadows at his statement. :It's been a while, Mr. Black, since we have had
helpers rather than slaves,: the old shadow said. :And the term helper has come
to mean much the same as seduced when it means nothing of the sort, so please
forgive our actions earlier in trying to force you to an action that goes
against your nature.
       :You are not one of the seduced, or else you could not have even voiced
objection to us and you would quite happily cut your own throat with a dull
blade if we so ordered it. No, you are a helper, Mr. Black, someone who has
chosen to give his loyalty and trust to our Master and who we in turn recognize
and assist, even as you assist us. The distinction means we should not have
attempted to force.
       :This is not something we do for the Serpent Lord either, despite his
allegiance with our Master. Well, it isn't something we would do usually...
except for those dastardly rogues... who knows what help they will give him?:
       Sirius snorted but held up his hand to forestall the questions Remus
would no doubt ask. :I do not forgive you,: he said to the shadows as a whole.
       :You do not?:
       :No. I do not forgive you,: he repeated. :I can only forgive you if you
agree to two terms.:
       :Terms?: The shadows were wary and Sirius knew why. Dark and dangerous
they may be, but they were honourable about keeping their word.
       :One, you never attempt to force me again and two, Remus is given
similar status as a helper.:
       :Agreed to the first, but the second must wait until the werewolves ally
with us and our Master gives his express permission, which we have no doubt
that he will.:
       :All right,: Sirius agreed. :Now what?:
       :Now, we apologize to the good werewolf for attacking him, and explain
why we are so protective of our Master, and generally do everything in our
power to make sure they ally with us still,: the elder shadow said and Sirius
nodded mentally in agreement. :If I may?: the shadow asked the canine animagus.
       :Yes,: he replied. They had given their word, and their word was their
bond. They would not try to force him again.
       The shadow took control of Sirius' body and had him stand tall before
bowing deeply to the werewolf. "We are sorry, Mr. Lupin. You surprised us
greatly and we acted without thinking, and such a thing, against someone who we
dearly wish as an ally is unforgivable, yet we find ourselves asking for your
forgiveness."
       Remus had tensed as the man's eyes had turned pitch black again but his
actions were placating and peaceful, though they carried the slight hint of
nerves. The shadows were as changeable as the wind it seemed, one moment on the
verge of killing him, and he knew they had been close to doing that, the next
humbly asking his forgiveness... they were young, he realized as the man looked
on with a faint expression of hope.
       "I wish to forgive you for the good of the werewolf packs but I wish to
know why you deemed it necessary to attack me. Only then will I be able to
decide if an alliance with something as... impetuous as you is in our
interests."
       The shadows representative nodded before looking over at Gideon. The
petrificus totalus had not worn off but he was still watching and still could
not hear. A silencing charm had no physical presence but it was still effective
and the boundary was still before the young death eater.
       "You are correct," the shadows said, and Sirius' felt his eyes widen
slightly as they began to drop some of the distortion on his voice. "It was
very impetuous of us and we apologize however we beg your indulgence to explain
our actions and hope that in our explanation you will find that the alliance we
wish is still in the werewolves' best interests."
       :What are you doing?: Sirius hissed.
       :Giving him a reason to trust us again,: the shadows replied. :Don't
worry that young werewolf won't be able to see when it comes to that so it will
be only to Remus that we do this... or do you not trust him?:
       :That's not fair!: Sirius complained. :You know I trust him, I just
didn't think he'd find out this way.:
       :Neither did we but we wish to shield our Master still from some of what
we will be doing.:
       :I thought he knew you were recruiting the werewolves.:
       :He does, but there are other things we will do that he will not find
as... agreeable. The Dark Lord has said he will do anything to protect our
Master but we will do anything to make sure of our victory and that is
something entirely different.:
       Sirius nodded to himself. It was different and the shadows would protect
Harry as well but their protection required his acceptance of them as did their
existence as a power. They were bound to obey him no matter what his orders
were. Even if they were 'Go away' they had to obey and Sirius knew that they
did not want that. He saw the path the shadows walked with their master and
resolved to try to help Harry as much as he could.
       Remus had noticed that the shadows voice was different. So far he'd
heard two 'voices' from their representative, one that he attributed to the man
beneath the mask and one he attributed to the power he represented. But they
seemed to be showing him a third now and he didn't know why. "I will listen to
your explanation," he said when they paused for his response.
       "As you have surmised for yourself, we are a very powerful force and
while the wizarding world believes us to be two forces supporting opposites,
and we are supporting that belief, you are correct in your other statement - we
are one force, playing all sides."
       "Does the Shadow Lord know?"
       "Not everything," the shadows admitted, dropping more concealment. "He
is very young and while he knows some of what we do, he does not yet grasp how
completely we are involved in the game. He will before the year is out though
and then he will be our Master and partner in everything."
       "Does he know about your offer to the Werewolves?"
       "Yes and we can see that you wonder how we will get the reforms we
promised into the Ministry. We share your concern, getting the reforms into the
current Ministry would not be possible but the current Ministry will not last
much longer and their successors will either be more amenable to our
suggestions or they will be replaced."
       Remus couldn't help but start at the sheer power behind the voice and
the conviction it had... not to mention that they were advocating a whole sale
slaughter of the Ministry.
       "Do not concern yourself, Mr. Lupin, there are many ways we can get our
amendments through the Ministry into law, and we will chose one that is
appropriate when it is required. We do not break our word."
       "So why did you attack me?" Remus asked. The information given so far
was fascinating but didn't answer that direct question.
       "We made a mistake. We did not anticipate that anyone would connect our
helper with our Master and therefore conclude that he was perhaps aware of more
than has been suspected. It is obvious of course that we should have known, but
we did not and we will protect our Master against anything."
       Remus laughed weakly. "I hadn't worked it out until just before," he
said simply. "And while I know that it is believed there are only rogues
helping the Dark Lord, this alliance comes from the shadows, and either you
were acting completely independently of your master - something that was
possible, or this was an offer from the rogues, or you are a unified force.
Thus the conclusions were easy, once I remembered that this man had been the
one to fight for the Dark Lord and not just remembered that and been happy at
his ability to kill vampires."
       "Which was our mistake, in having this man come and, perhaps, in
offering such a wide agreement to you. We should have used someone else, or not
been... quite as encompassing as we were with our offer... but we want your
allegiance and thus we have offered what we have and what we can deliver,
rather than only a taste of what we can deliver."
       "So why did you not kill me to protect your master?"
       "I stopped them," Sirius said, his voice his own.
       This time it was Remus' turn to start back in surprise, and with a soft
'pluomuf!' he fell back into a sitting position staring up at the shadows
representative. "Si... Sirius...?"
       "You were expecting someone else?" Sirius asked with a laugh. He turned
his wand towards Gideon and muttered a gentle curse of darkness to conceal
himself from the Death Eater, before sweeping his mask down and grinning
broadly at his friend.
       Remus just watched on but suddenly a hundred little things - hints,
phrases and actions - that his friend had made over the few months of summer
made sense. Particularly strong was the memory of the talk they'd had in the
meadow, the talk that had ended well before Harry had been attacked, before
he'd discovered the vampire in Dumbledore's office.
       'Remus, don't... Don't make the same assumptions Albus has, that the
world has. Harry is his own man. He is not his father. He will make his own
decisions and live with the consequences. And so help us, we've put him in the
position where we are going to have to live with the consequences as well.'
       "So this is what you meant when you said Harry wasn't the concept we
perceived."
       "Not the best warning but I tried."
       "Well it's given me more warning than probably anyone else."
       "That's true."
       Remus looked down, ashamed. "I guess you've got questions..." he said
quietly.
       "Yes," Sirius replied. "But since you've probably got the same questions
about Harry's servants, I think our relative secrets are about equal, and I'm
not about to hold you responsible for not telling me something that you were
obviously not allowed to."
       Remus smiled, a genuinely relieved smile, all trace of annoyance or
doubt about the shadows removed.
       "I spent too long in Azkaban doubting everything Remus, going back over
what I should have done and what I shouldn't have done and how things should
have been different to now doubt the few things I know with absolute certainty
and one of those is that you are my friend, more than my friend and nothing you
do will change that."
       "I don't... I don't deserve that."
       "Just so long as you know I don't deserve you either," Sirius said
laughingly though his eyes were serious. "This is not something to doubt Remus
and for now it is not something we can spend the night going over. I need to
get back to the wilderness and you no doubt need to get back to the castle."
       The werewolf nodded before he looked around towards the shadows. "You
know, if you'd have just told me that it was Sirius meeting with me the first
time, you wouldn't have had to made such a generous offer to the werewolves, I
would have carried and argued for the alliance just on the strength of that."
       "We know," the shadows said aloud, not using Sirius' voice. "But we want
the werewolves' allegiance, all of them, not just the ones who will follow
you... and there are more of those than you would think." They fell silent and
relayed a few more things to Sirius.
       "Remus... they want me to tell you something. They can talk by
themselves but it's not the easiest for them so for things like this they
usually use someone else. They think that the werewolves will want to pick a
pack leader this time, as in a Supreme Pack Leader for all the werewolves on
the Isles. The shadows want you to know, they will back you for that. Not as a
part of anything just because they will back you. No questions, no requirements
or agreements or favor owed. Even if the werewolves decide not to ally with the
shadows, they will still back you."
       "Why?"
       The shadows were silent and Sirius sensed there were many reasons they
had come to this decision including the fact that they believed that Remus was
one of the few pack leaders for whom the phrase 'I lead to serve' was more than
just tradition but he went with the simplest. "Remus, these are Harry's
servants... Do you have any idea how much grief he'd give them if you got
hurt?"
       :Nice answer,: the shadows complimented him before they swirled, showing
their agreement in the happy movements they made in the clearing.
       "All right," Remus said as he rose with a wire smile. "If the packs
decide they wish to have singular pack leader, I will put forth my candidacy.
Now, are you going to cast that charm?"
       Sirius nodded and pulled up his mask again as the shadows settled around
him, once more masking his identity. He lifted his wand and removed the charms
from the Death Eater werewolf before he bowed towards Remus, letting the young
werewolf know that things had been resolved. The Death Eater was full of
curiosity but seemed to accept that so long as the Pack Leader was unharmed and
displaying no threatening gestures he could wait for his explanation and would
not attack the other being.
       Without ceremony Sirius cast the reinforcement charm on Remus before he
turned to Gideon. "We have sorted out our differences," he said formally,
giving a nod towards Remus. "And as our business is completed, I bid you good
night. Try not to get captured again, Gideon," he added with a wink before he
apparated out.
       Remus watched the place Sirius had been standing for a moment. He wanted
to talk much more but there was no time at the moment and they both knew it but
that didn't stop the slight shaking in his hand.
       "Pack Leader, are you alright?" Gideon asked, forgetting that Remus was
also one of the Order.
       Remus laughed weakly, looking down at his hand that was trembling. "I am
fine Gideon, just very excited at this opportunity and possibility."
       "So you still wish to ally with them, even though they attacked you?"
       "Yes. That was a misunderstanding."
       "A pretty serious one."
       "True, but one that was resolved and I believe in that misunderstanding
had lead to greater understanding and acceptance. I know more about them now
Gideon and to argue for an alliance to the Gathering, that understanding is
necessary."
       The Death Eater nodded. "A part of me wants to say you should argue to
serve my Master, but since they rescued me, I'm somewhat split on where the
werewolves should give our loyalty. I know they only rescued me because they
want to get support but I am still thankful. Though I am now a bit worried. You
are a member of the Order after all, and I am an escaped Death Eater and the
Gathering isn't until after the moon."
       "That won't be a problem," Remus said. "I cannot support your choice in
serving the Dark Lord but I will not turn you in. If we meet in battle then it
will be something else but I will see to your wellbeing until the Gathering,
after that, you are on your own."
       "I can accept that," Gideon said. "What about for the moon? You got that
charm but I'll transform as usual."
       "When I was in school, there was a house I stayed in when I transformed.
Since there will be two of us, I think I can control you and myself... even if
the charm fails half way through."
       "You are going to have to tell me about them but not yet," Gideon said,
rising and looking up at the moon. "Night is the time of the Death Eaters, but
you probably have things to do tomorrow so we should get going."
       "That is true," Remus said with a smile. "I do have much to do and even
more to think on," Remus said as he rose. Despite the surprises of tonight and
the amount he had to consider, not to mention the very long conversation he
wanted to have with Harry now, he felt good about the future.
       He looked up at the moon with a soft smile, :Sleep well, Sirius.:
 
***** Memoirs of Summer *****
Weapon
Chapter 18 Memoirs of Summer
===
       Dear Gin,
       Sorry I haven't written but summer and training has been intense. I
can't say everything here and Dumbledore has said that I'm not allowed to see
people over summer but I assure you, I will write and I will try to give you a
fire call if I can.
       I know you didn't agree but I believe that doing what we did is the
best... Do you want to know why? I think I'll tell you later... just because I
know you want to know.
       Fawkes has been helping with my training. Do you remember how he carried
us in the Chamber of Secrets? That's just a taste of what he is capable of.
He's incredible and while it's not training I could just sit and pat his
feathers for hours, just the same way that I could stroke your hair. They are
so soft and while they may seem to burn they are cool. But you don't really
want to hear about that, I know. I have been learning so much! The things you
need to know for the animagus transformation are just amazing! Hermione's going
to be jealous and I really have no idea how my dad and Sirius managed to pull
it off in their fifth year... God... I've got some things to really live up to.
       How is everything going? I don't think there have been any attacks
lately but I know they aren't telling me everything. It's frustrating! I'm not
a child anymore, I know the Dark Lord is after me and I know he will do
whatever it takes to bring the light down. I know this so why won't they tell
me?
       I'm sorry Gin, for ranting at you but it is so frustrating! Not knowing
just makes me want to know more... But this is not a very nice subject material
for a letter.
       Thank you for the birthday present. I enjoyed the Treacle Tarts very
much and I'm looking forward to thanking you properly. You can wonder exactly
what that means until I see you. And that just reminded me of how much I miss
you... oops...
       That was the reason why I think we did the right thing. With you always
there I was used to it. I accepted it and I never thought about it because it
was always there.
       Now that you're not there... I miss you and in the absence the heart
grows fonder. I miss you. It's just a simple thing but it's the first step. I
want to see you again because I don't want to miss you... Wow... that's
confusing.
       I'm writing to Ron and Hermione too but say hello to everyone else for
me. I've enjoyed not staying with the Dursley's but I'm disappointed that I
won't be able to visit this summer. I promise though, once the war is over,
I'll make up for that.
       Still missing you,
       Harry.
===
       Hermione,
       He wrote! He wrote! He wrote!
       I'm so happy!
       I almost thought he wouldn't but he wrote!
       It wasn't a love letter true but he said he's missing me so there is
hope yet. Even with the war I can't wait to go back to school because I can see
him. Ron would kill me for the going back to school bit so let's keep it our
secret.
       I know we'll see you later in the summer but for now to answer the
questions you asked, for some of them I just don't know. I know you asked me
because you wanted a practical or the everyday view but these are things most
wizards don't or don't want to think about.
       The last time the Dark Lord rose he was doing so secretly. This time
it's open. At least that's what Mum and Dad are saying and they don't know what
that means. And I know you can't find much information for research.
       I think it's something no one wants to think about much, which doesn't
help any, I know. Things are different though this time. Things are very
different so comparing You-Know-Who's first rise to this one will only cause
confusion. Dad said that much clearly, I think because some of the Aurors tried
exactly that and ended up in St Mungos.
       Now in relation to the Order of the Phoenix, it's always been there.
       All wizards know that on some level it exists, especially recently
because they've been mentioned in the paper a lot but as to who they actually
are and what they actually do, that's something that has been a mystery as
well. They've helped to fight every major Dark Lord and so some members are
identified but they usually keep to themselves. Yes, it is a secret order and
we probably should be more wary but... that's the way it's always been.
       Dumbledore is a member, if not the Leader and that was confirmed during
the Grindelwald wars. There is some more information becoming available and I'd
say Harry, by now would know a lot. I think it's been assumed that he will
become a member.
       The rest of the questions though... I'd rather not write an answer since
there are a lot of little things implied with those questions. I'll talk to you
when you come over. It'd be better that way.
       For now though is there anything I should say to Harry? I still feel
when I look and speak with him that I'm only seeing a shade. He said he missed
me but I want him to love me. That's different but I also don't want to drive
him away. I told you how much it hurts and it's getting better but it still
hurts. He misses me, but I miss him. I think he knows that... but I want to be
sure.
       Ginny.
===
       Dear Ron,
       How is the summer progressing?
       My parents showed some interest in the year but I know they are still
confused even after all this time. You'd think after five years they would have
gotten used to the thought of me as a witch but while they accept it and are
supportive, they are still surprised.
       It's good though that they continue to try but I found it scary when
Father made a joke to ask if there was a potion for teeth cleaning. I don't
think he quite accepted that there was a charm for this but he did give me an
idea for a potion for tartar control. Just think about it as an extra strong
teeth cleaning process that gets done once a year to remove the yellow bits on
teeth.
       I wonder what Snape would think if I asked? Probably something about the
arrogant Gryffindor know-it-all. There, I wrote it for you so you don't have to
rant.
       I love my parents dearly but I am looking forward to coming over. I
always learn so much when I stay with you. Your Mum's so great but I've written
to you about that loads of times before. I wanted to ask you about something
else though.
       I got a letter from Harry. I know you did as well but I wanted to know
if you thought the same things about it as I did.
       It seemed, the letter I mean, hollow.
       Don't roll your eyes!
       Harry just seemed to write very methodically and his letter was almost
cold. I know he's busy and I know he's training and I know he can't tell us
everything but it seemed like he was avoiding the issues. And there are issues.
You know that, I know that and for Harry's sake we have to deal with them.
       Don't roll your eyes and don't get huffy on me. I know you, Ronald
Bilius Weasley, and I know what you are like which is why I want to talk to you
about these things now. I'll talk to you more when I visit but I want you to
think about some of these things now. I know I have been, but Harry's letter
only made me worry more.
       This year, like it or not Harry is going to be the centre of attention,
not just in school but probably for the whole of wizarding society and this
includes the Dark Forces. He didn't ask for this and he's probably not going to
like it much. We both know what he's like and we both know he never seeks this
attention, it just happens.
       I'm saying this because I don't think we can have a repeat of fourth
year. Harry almost naturally becomes the centre of attention and he's going to
need support.
       During last year he didn't reach out much but we were there to help him.
This year is likely to be the same but it's probably going to be even faster.
He's going to need us Ron and we need to be ready before the request comes.
This is not something we will have time to contemplate then. When he needs
support, he's going to need support, no questions asked. This is just the way
it's going to be, so I want you to consider that.
       Harry has never asked for the burdens placed upon him and yes the tasks
he is asked to do are burdens Ron. He doesn't want the exposure that comes with
it. Consider that as well because we are not going to have time this year to
play games. When he needs us, we won't be able to question him and he should
have no question about us.
       No matter what this seems like Ron, I'm not lecturing you and I'm not
comparing you to Harry. You're different people and I don't regret any
decision. I just want you to think about this so you won't regret your actions.
And I think for now I've probably distracted you from the serious business of
summer and the latest Quidditch results. Did you see Viktor's 'stats'?
       Got you, didn't I? I'll see you soon.
       Love,
       Hermione.
===
       Dear Harry,
       How's the summer coming?
       Must be awesome to stay at Hogwarts! The learning bit... You know, I'd
almost be willing... no... no I wouldn't, would I?
       Eh, I don't really know what I want but while I'm sure it's good for you
away from those Muggles, having to give up your entire summer to study must be
suck... Oh... shit, I forgot!
       Sorry man.
       I hope those Muggles are safe and sound but that you don't have to go
back to them.
       Although since you are studying this summer you can teach me all the
cool stuff you learnt. Not the boring stuff though. I get enough of that in
class.
       Hermione and I got our OWL results. I have never seen a woman so upset
about a pass mark... I mean, I was just happy to pass, let alone achieving an
outstanding OWL. Don't worry about your results, I overheard Dad saying
something to Mum about a delay because they were checking things... Apparently
you are news at the Ministry. So what else is new?
       Fred and George's inventions finally pay off though! That's how I could
hear.
       Speaking of which... I was sad to hear that Sirius is off on a mission.
Geez... that's hard... I'm so used to thinking of him as Snuffles but it's
better that he can be Sirius. Of course, it would be better if he could be
Sirius and stay at Hogwarts. What's he doing anyway?
       As for events here...
       Please don't send another letter to Ginny. She traipsed around the
Burrow for five days solid before anyone managed to calm her down. It was
ghastly. Fred and George have been working on something big and they've been
coming and going almost like there was no tomorrow. They won't say a thing
either, only that it's a surprise and to tell Mum not to worry. Well, since
their clock hands aren't showing Mortal Peril unlike some others, she's been
fairly good. Got other things to worry about.
       Bill, Percy and Dad's hands often go to Mortal Peril. Charlie's does as
well if you watch hard enough but dealing with dragons... what do you expect?
Percy's been practically living at the Ministry and at times I think Dad does
as well but Percy's worse. I think he's trying to build a name for himself in
the new Ministry... I wonder how much boot polish he ate... Although he should
probably just ask Fred and George for help, they're bound to have cooked up
something to help people like Percy. Heck! They probably brewed it up because
of Percy.
       Mum and Dad said some odd things about Bill before they realized I was
listening in. Nothing bad just confusing 'cos it was something about London...
And before you lecture me about listening in I've had that from both Ginny and
Hermione although I managed to shut Gin up by letting her hear as well.
       The things I have to do!
       Anyway, have you seen the Quidditch draw for this season? The Kestrals
are up against the Butchers like about five times! It's gonna be wicked! They
hate each other. I really don't know what the Board is thinking although I
guess they want the season to be exciting... if it runs.
       There's been some talk about cancelling because of the Dark Lord but if
we do that, that's almost admitting he's won. I hope they don't 'cos this
season looks good and the Windmaster was going to debut this season...
       It's the successor to the Firebolt and I've seen some pictures and wow!
I bet it could make a giant look like he was floating. It's so graceful. I'd
love to see you fly it. I'd love to fly it but I'm not going to get depressed
about that. I'd love to see you this summer but I probably won't, you know,
with everything but even so, when we get back to Hogwarts you know we'll be
there for you.
       Ron.
===
       Dear Hermione,
       Just a quick note to you. Is everything all right with Ron? When he
wrote I got a full run down on his family, which I appreciate but he never once
talked about the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Now that our chasers and beaters
have graduated I would have thought that would be paramount or is he trying to
claim that he never asked and thus could not have influenced me? Either way is
good but it was surprising.
       More worrying was that he did not once make reference to a certain
Slytherin and their dubious heritage. Check him for Imperio would you, please?
       It's just not right.
       I think I mentioned that Sirius is on a mission. I wish I know what it
was since I got used to him being around and it feels... empty with him gone. I
know it's important but... feelings don't respond well to logic. I miss him and
Remus is busy with other things.
       I'm busy as well but there are times when I'd just like to hug Snuffles.
       This was meant to be quick!
       Everyone's assured me that there have been no attacks lately and while I
can't feel him mostly it feels like he's building up to something. Dumbledore
agrees, which is both a worry and a comfort. Whatever it is though, we'll just
have to bear with it.
       I probably won't see you at Diagon Alley this year but I will see you at
Hogwarts. Til' then, have fun with Ron's family.
       Later,
       Harry.
===
       Dear Professor Dumbledore,
       If I'm prying at things I don't need to know, I'm sorry but this is
about Harry.
       He says his training is going well which I am honestly ambivalent about.
I know that training and knowledge is going to help in the battle but it is the
fact that it is for combat that worries me. It's not the issue here though.
       While it may be out of place for me to suggest this but with everything
that's happening, in as much as possible, this year I think it would be good
for Harry to remain in classes. He's not going to need it, I know, even I could
see that at the end of last year's class but for the semblance of normality in
his life, it would be for the best.
       Both Ron and I will give you and Harry what support we can during the
year and would be happy to help with what we can.
       Ginny as well, I'm sure.
       Once again, I'm sorry if I am asking or implying things I shouldn't but
Harry is my friend and I only want what is best.
       Sincerely,
       Hermione Granger.
===
       Dear Molly and Arthur,
       I am writing to you in the utmost confidence and expect you to take the
necessary precautions to ensure that your children, the younger ones anyway do
not find out about this until it is time. They mean well but such knowledge is
dangerous and we must protect them from this for as long as possible.
       To business now, as I'm sure you have already determined the best
methods of concealment.
       I'm sure you already aware of your daughters infatuation with Harry
Potter. It both pleases me and saddens me to inform you that the relationship
is mutual.
       Pleases me because I know both you and them will be very happy. Saddens
me because Tom Riddle is not likely to be pleased with the concept of Harry's
happiness and may take measures against your family and specifically, Ginny.
       Already I have placed extra warding around the Burrow but would urge you
to initiate your own spells. I do not believe there is any specific danger yet,
beyond the norm as both children have been discrete but I do unfortunately
believe that it is only a matter of time before Tom finds out.
       Extra security has already been arranged for Hogwarts this year to keep
the students safe and I will be writing to all parents to advise them of this.
Additional guards will be assigned to Ronald, Ginny and Hermione, as they are
known to be close friends of Harry. I would ask that you encourage them to be
as supportive as possible and look forward to seeing your example to the
community. I wish you a pleasant year with the expected familial Weasley
alterations.
       Albus Dumbledore
===
       Harry-dear,
       It's been very quiet at the Burrow without you and we asked Dumbledore
if you could stay with us but as I'm sure you've already been told, the
assessment has been made that with the Dark Lord being so active in hunting for
you, it is safer for you to remain at Hogwarts. We want you to come over Harry,
we really, really do but I would never forgive myself if you were here and
someone found you. Not that we'd let anything happen to you.
       Dumbledore has told Arthur and me that he won't be letting you go to
Diagon Alley this year so if there's anything you need just let me know and
I'll pick it up for you, though from what I've been hearing, I'm not sure if
you are going to be needing the usual school kit.
       Arthur hasn't been able to say much but I'm so proud of you Harry! And
I'm sure your parents would be as well but I am worried. With so much training,
you haven't had the chance to be yourself so I want you to promise me that you
will not just jump into anything. It's bad enough that Fred and George get
themselves into scraps all the time but those I can deal with. You need to be
careful Harry and remember that everyone here loves you. It would break our
hearts if anything happened to you. It worries me to death that it will fall to
you to fight the Dark Lord and that just makes me want to protect you more. You
are too young for this and you didn't get much of a childhood with those
Muggles and so it's not fair for you to be burdened with this fight from a
previous generation.
       Yes, that's what this is. A fight you should never have been burdened
with but we are with you Harry, every step of the way.
       I'm not sure if Dumbledore has told you but while it's been agreed that
it's too dangerous for you to be out and about this summer, he will let you on
to the train so I expect to see you on Platform 9 and 3/4's to get a good look
at you.
       Love,
       Molly
===
       Dear Mrs. Weasley,
       I would have loved to come to the Burrow as well but you are correct.
Dumbledore explained why I couldn't and I would not be happy if something had
of happened to anyone while I was there either, even though that didn't make me
miss you all any less.
       I haven't received my OWLS yet so I haven't managed to pick subjects and
I don't know what I will need at Diagon Alley. I know they, my OWLS, were
something... unusual, and I know I will be helping the Aurors and the Order
this year, it's been decided that I should try to keep going to school as much
as possible. And I can't say that I'm unhappy about that. So thank you for the
offer to pick up what I need but at the moment I just don't know.
       On the subject of the war, unfortunately this is my war. A certain
someone whose name begins with a V decided that for all of us and so I have no
choice and ask that you forgive the danger that is inherent in you and your
children associating with me. I can only think of one way of preventing that
and if you or your family wish to take that option then I will understand. I
don't have a choice but to fight in this war, you do. I thank you for the
opportunity to get to know everyone and hope that when it's over I can come
back to the Burrow.
       I hope I can say goodbye to you all on the Platform.
       Sincerely,
       Harry.
===
       HARRY JAMES POTTER!
       IF YOU THINK FOR ONE INSTANT THAT ANY MEMBER OF OUR FAMILY WILL ABANDON
YOU IN THIS WAR THEN YOU ARE VERY MUCH MISTAKEN! AND IF YOU DO NOT STOP MOPING
AROUND THINKING THAT YOU ARE ALONE THEN I WILL PERSONALLY COME TO HOGWARTS AND
HUG YOU INTO SUBMISSION.
       YOU ARE A PART OF OUR FAMILY, AND WE DO NOT ABANDON OUR OWN SO DON'T YOU
FORGET IT. IF I HEAR ANY MORE RUBBISH ABOUT YOU LEAVING US THEN...
       I'D BETTER NOT HEAR ANY MORE RUBBISH ABOUT YOU BEING ABANDONED. WE ARE
IN THIS WAR TOGETHER AND IT IS TOGETHER WE WILL FIGHT AND TOGETHER WE WILL BE.
       THAT IS THE END OF IT.
===
       Dear Ron,
       Please tell your mother not to worry. I don't want to abandon anyone but
at the same time I didn't want to force you into a position that was untenable.
Ask Hermione what that means.
       Ron, training has been good but there is still many a risk in war and I
don't want lose anyone. I don't know if that's possible but I hope it is. The
choices we make will define the future and it is that future that we must work
towards but I know that some of the choices will be difficult and some will not
be seen as the best. That lack of certainty though is something that we must
live with, the same as we must live with the consequences of our choices and
actions.
       This is an unusually grim letter I know and I am sorry but these things
must be said. I want us to continue to be friends but there are choices that
have to be made this year that may drive us apart. I can promise you Ron
though, my intentions may not always be clear but the choices I make are the
choices I want and are the choices I believe lead towards the future I want.
And that future will not be what people expect.
       I can only make the choices I think are best Ron and I hope you trust me
enough to understand that. You can always ask me but sometimes I won't be able
to answer though in time everything will become clear. That much I promise if
you stay with me. Even if you don't, it will become clear. The choices I have
already made can't be hidden forever.
       I'm not begging you to; I'm asking you to trust me and to stay with me.
That is all but the choice is yours Ron.
       Harry.
 
***** Back to School *****
Weapon
Chapter 19 Back to School
===
       Auror Captain Sturges sat in his office quietly. He'd dismissed his
staff earlier and he had meant to be home by now but he'd been thinking. There
were many things happening at the moment and most of them concerned defeating
the Dark Lord. The Ministry had made peace with the Vampires, true, with the
help of the Order of the Phoenix and they were in negotiations with the Goblins
and trying to negotiate with the Veela, merpeople and almost any non-human
sentient who could fight. He'd heard rumours that the Unspeakables were even
trying to contact phoenixes, unicorns and other traditionally light side
magical beasts for their aid. It was unprecedented and it was leading to a good
feeling.
       But, despite all their efforts, the dark forces just kept doing what
they wanted.
       A case in point; the werewolf.
       They'd captured him, and were holding him in custody, questioning for
any information that would help. And then a single dark wizard waltz's into
their Headquarters, stalks through the corridors like he owned them to the
cells and had released the werewolf. They'd then gotten to a floo point and had
floo'd away before apparating. And of course, while the floo travel had
eventually been tracked by the time they filled out all the paperwork and gone
through a heap of diplomatic hoops to get access to the floo-out point, the
apparition trail had been erased. It hadn't been masked as most usually did to
hide their magical signature, it was as if the apparition trail wasn't even
there, or as if no one had apparated from that point. The Unspeakables had used
some ceremony and had assured them that the apparition point had been there,
though they couldn't find anything else. The apparition point was confirmed by
the muggles who'd seen the prisoner escape in the custody of that dark wizard.
       Sturges been in a rage at the thought of muggles seeing their prisoner
until one of the Unspeakables had taken him aside and explained why this place
was on the floo network, which in turn had explained why the diplomatic hoops
and paperwork had been so tedious for what should have been a high priority but
routine part of the investigation. True the Ministry had to work with the
muggle governments but he didn't necessarily like the fact that there were some
high level muggles connected to the floo network. Worse than that, what if the
dark wizard had of taken them hostage? Then how would anything have been
explained?
       But apparently the dark wizard either didn't know or didn't care, though
given that the wizard knew about the floo point, it was more likely that he
picked that floo point because he'd knew the confusion it would cause in the
Ministry and that confusion had given him the time to erase the apparition
trail. The Unspeakables were putting in more security for the muggles.
       The rescue of the werewolf raised more questions than it answered and
Sturges resolutely put any thoughts of the muggles or the apparition trail out
of his mind. It was the Unspeakables job to now ensure the security of the
muggles and he didn't want to know and with the lack of anything at the
apparition point chasing their escapee became pointless. That left them
studying what security pictures there were of the dark wizard. He'd been over
every picture with Shacklebolt and had even surreptitiously created a copy for
the Auror, knowing full well he'd take it back to the Order.
       Not that they had learnt much about the wizard in question. Ironic as it
was, it was about now that Sturges wished that they could get some of the
Muggle security things working in headquarters, but the press of magic was just
too strong for any of the devices. They were left with fixed point photos, not
those... video camera's he thought they were called. So, they'd tracked the
dark wizard through their headquarters but didn't have any evidence of what
he'd done to avoid detection. That was the most disturbing thing. It was
disturbingly obvious that he knew the ward codes to break out of the apparition
point, the fact that he'd then just walked through the corridors was worse.
They had gone over the corridors with the finest sensors they could afterwards
and had detected nothing. The wizard had apparantly just walked through the
corridors, that had been on high alert and had cast no charms to conceal
himself? That was not possible yet it was what the evidence was pointing
towards.
       Beyond a few charms to unchain the werewolf and the magical signature on
those was unuseable due to the silver, it appeared that the wizard had done no
magic and had still been able to avoid all the Auror's searching for him.
Sturges shook his head. They knew who the wizard was, well, they knew where he
had appeared previously, in the Atrium, protecting He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named,
but they knew nothing beyond that. They were no closer to finding out who lay
behind that mask. Surprisingly though, one thing they were reasonably sure on
was that the dark wizard was not a Death Eater. Even their werewolf captive had
confirmed that during his brief incarceration. As the werewolf had said, no
Death Eater would be allowed their own mask. And that of course lead to more
questions.
       Was You-Know-Who allied with other forces?
       Who was stong enough to ally with him? And more importantly, what did
they want?
       Would it be possible to either break the alliance or buy them off?
       All those questions had been asked to the werewolf and while he'd
confirmed that the Dark Lord was allied with something he hadn't been able to
give more details than that. He just hadn't known. Not surprising since they'd
known that the werewolf was merely a footsoldier. Baross had been in charge of
that but Sturges, like all Auror Captain's, was dealing with the fall out.
       One thing the werewolf had confirmed though was that the werewolves as a
whole had not yet sided with anyone. They were still deciding though given the
way the media had played up the capture, there was likely to be only one side
the werewolves would now consider. He'd said as much to Shacklebolt and the
Order Member had merely nodded sadly. "Remus hasn't said anything," Kingsley
had said, "but I get the impression that while he will help individually, the
werewolves as a whole will side with the Dark Lord. They won't come to the
Ministry for anything less than what the Vampires have, and you know as well as
I do that while that is due to the werewolves, with this Death Eater being
captured, that's not going to be possible." Kingsley was politically astute and
that was the reason he was Sturges chose successor should anything happen to
him.
       Besides, someone from the Order would no doubt need to be dealing with
Sirius Black and Harry Potter. Sturges shook his head again, bemused. His
thoughts would not settle tonight. Thankfully the disposition of Mr Potter as a
potential combatant for the Ministry had been given to him. There were a couple
of Aurors who were quite literally rubbing their hands together in glee over Mr
Potter's preliminary school results and they were doing that, not because of
the skills Mr Potter would bring to the fight but because of Mr Black's
statement that Mr Potter's future not be jeopardized. With the results Mr
Potter had shown, his future was more than assured and Mr Black had outsmarted
himself somewhat. Still, those Aurors had to come to him and Sturges had made
it quite clear that anyone going outside of the channels of communication would
have to deal with him.
       Though that did now leave him with a problem. Mr Black was realist
enough to know that even if he didn't want his Godson fighting, Mr Potter had
no choice while He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was targeting him specifically, so it
was better to actively fight back than attempt to set up some sort of
protection. Though, they couldn't just have Mr Potter running around lose on
the field. That would completely confuse any manoeuvres.
       The only logical thing was to give him some sort of official status.
       And that would cause an uproar!
       The thing was Sturges couldn't see any other way to do this though. The
young Mr Potter may be a member of the Order of the Phoenix but technically
that organisation didn't exist and even if the Ministry admitted to it's
existence membership of that organisation or any organisation did not grant any
Ministerial rank. And to be given orders and to be expected to carry them out,
Mr Potter was going to need that. But there was no way, phenomenal results or
not, that they could give him the position of an Auror and Auror-trainee rules
specifically prevented combat. So with the current system there was little
Sturges could do to fit Mr Potter into the existing power structures.
       Unless... a thought formed deep in his mind, whispering gently, so
softly that it almost wasn't heard but Sturges was used to following those
little pulls of instinct. They'd saved his life once or twice so when he felt
that subconscious tug, he tended to pay attention. Mr Potter couldn't fit in
the existing power structures, so therefore the power structures needed to
change.
       Not greatly. Sturges wasn't so stupid as to attempt a major overhaul in
the middle of an impending war. But just enough that they could fit Mr Potter
into the Auror teams and have him work with them, enough so that there would
not be a loose cannon on the battle field. If Mr Potter couldn't be an Auror-
trainee and there would be too much political outrage to make him an Auror in
full then they needed a new position.
       Auror-Apprentice.
       Sturges smiled somewhat ironically at the thought. There was little
doubt in his mind that if things hadn't been quite as stressed as they were,
then Mr Potter would have been apprenticing to someone to gain Mastery in some
of his stronger disciplines and most likely one of them would have been Defence
against the Dark Arts so perhaps the position of Auror-Apprentice should follow
the general layout of a normal Apprenticeship, except in this case, Mr Potter
would be subject to the orders of his Auror Master in battle. If they worked it
out right, he could possibly even work on a Mastery.
       Sturges closed his eyes as he fleshed out the idea further in his mind.
Pending further inspiration from one of the other Auror Captains, he would
propose this idea, that of an Auror Apprentice to them as the solution to one
Mr Potter and his guardian, Mr Black. Now there was something...
       Mr Black had been an Auror... to sweeten the deal, that status could be
returned, in fact it should be returned and with the official position, Mr
Black could then be one of the Auror Masters Mr Potter answered to. There would
have to be another of course, himself perhaps, or maybe Kingsley... That would
satisfy both the Order and the Ministry at the same time. Hopefully it would
satisfy Mr Potter and his guardian.
       Feeling more at ease, Sturges stood and flicked his wand around his
office, extinguishing the lights. In the sudden deep shadow he stepped up to
the glowing remains of his fire and threw the floo powder in to return home,
never noticing how the shadows watched and waited and smiled at his choices.
===
       Harry smiled as he apparated to Platform 9 and 3/4's. It certainly felt
better to arrive on the Platform that way and while this was the first time he
had been allowed off Hogwarts grounds since summer began, he was actually
content with how things had progressed. It might have been nice to go to Diagon
Alley and see everyone while picking up his school supplies but his training,
he didn't want to call it education because it wasn't, his beloved had already
educated him in most of the important things, what he was doing at Hogwarts was
training, learning to use that which he already knew and that was also
important.
       Besides, he'd have the entire journey back to Hogwarts to catch up with
them. And the train trip would be relatively unchaperoned. Dumbledore had
explained that yesterday when he had called Harry into his office for an end of
summer review.
       Harry had spoken to the Headmaster at various times over summer and the
ancient wizard had seemed pleased at his progress. They'd discussed many things
during the warmer months, including the overall plan for this year. The
Headmaster had been frank on a number of topics but evasive on others and while
Harry could see that the man was trying, he was still too set in his ways and
played too many cards to close to trust completely.
       If nothing untoward had happened in his life, Harry was sure he would
have trusted Dumbledore, but he was not a helpless child anymore and he was not
someone who would be pushed around. He would walk his own path and the others
would just have to follow. It was because the ancient wizard was blind to some
pain that he could not be allowed to continue. The man though would not step
aside. He was too used to power, which meant the only way was force. When Harry
had been a child he hadn't liked violence. He still didn't like it much now,
but he recognised that there were times when there was no other choice. This
was one of them. The Headmaster had to be removed from power and there was no
way of doing it except by force. Only then would the pain of the past be put to
rest.
       After Harry had mastered his Animagus form, the Headmaster had begun
relaying some war information but he had kept some key facts to himself. Thanks
to Harry's servants, he was relatively well informed and he wasn't sure if
Albus was keeping the information from him as a test of his abilities or out of
some other misguided desire to give Harry a childhood.
       The war was going as well as could be expected. Auror training had been
stepped up and the treaty with the vampires was proving to be a boon. Vampire
and Order of the Phoenix task forces had made some successful attacks and were
penetrating the Dark Lord's network. The Ministry was busy scrambling for
support and had offered treaties to several species. The Goblins were holding
out, as were the Veela and when told of this Harry had asked about the
Werewolves. His question had been deflected. Harry took that to mean that the
Werewolves had not been offered anything official.
       Idiots! Harry thought and had said as much. Dumbledore had just said it
would work out and Harry had nodded though he knew it wouldn't. The wizards
always seemed to ignore the things they really needed and this time it would
cost them.
       The Headmaster and Harry had discussed wizarding law as well, what the
rules were about using particular charms in combat and what the various
punishments were. Harry had been amazed at how simplistic the rules were.
Illegal spell use was just that. It was up to your lawyer to present
extenuating circumstances but it was the punishments for assault that surprised
Harry. There was almost no punishment for assaults providing no permanent
physical damage was inflicted. And given that St Mungos could heal a awful lot
that meant quite a few assaults went unreported. Emotional damage was not
considered. Sexual assault was not even mentioned.
       And no one seemed to consider this a problem.
       In fact the only reasons Heprah had been sentenced was because one,
Harry had been a child, two, Harry was the wizarding world's saviour, The-Boy-
Who-Lived and three, Dumbledore had insisted. What it told Harry though was
that even if he reported Blaise and Millicent, nothing much would happen.
Blaise would probably not even get a slap on the wrist, since after all, he'd
actually done nothing, while Millicent would probably get a lecture about
proper behaviour for a lady and it would be left at that. If Harry was lucky,
someone would offer to obliviate him and that would happen only if the judge
recognised the fact that men could be raped as well. If Dumbledore thought
Harry was going to accept that as tepid justice then he had a lot to learn. The
ancient wizard thought, somewhat unconsciously that if the physical damage was
healed then everything else would heal. And that because of the healing, those
who perpetrated these matters should be given another chance and should be
forgiven by their victims.
       Life and human emotion didn't work like that.
       Wizarding laws had some unforgivable gaps. While discussing the system
with the Headmaster they'd actually worked out that Voldemort could legally run
to be Minister so long as no family pressed charges. There was no such thing as
the people in the wizard court. The Ministry was a legal entity but the
individual still bore responsibility. It made for a very interesting dynamic
and Harry wasn't going to risk that system, not when he had other paths to
justice.
       The other interesting talk he'd had with the Headmaster had been about
his results. Harry knew Lord Voldemort had given him knowledge but even he'd
been surprised by how much even if he didn't know exactly what his results
were. He didn't have to go to school any more but both Harry and Dumbledore had
agreed that him attending classes and doing normal teenage things was for the
best. He would fight when called upon because it wasn't like missing a class
would hurt his results.
       The ancient wizard had also brought up another theory, that while the
Dark Lord was alive, Harry's 'other' knowledge would exist but when he killed
the Dark Lord then that knowledge may also die and if that was the case he
could continue his classes so if that did happen then Harry wouldn't be too far
behind. Harry had agreed with continuing classes, not because he needed it but
because he had had enough of being singled out. Attending class would be normal
for him and that's why he was enrolled in all the classes you needed for Auror
training. He might have wished to give up potions but it was required. Harry
supposed though that since he'd put up with Snape over summer, he could put up
with him in class. If nothing else he could watch his servants in action.
       And so that's why Harry was now waiting on Platform 9 and 3/4's as the
Aurors ran some final security checks. If he was attending Hogwarts this year
then he was going to enjoy the fun stuff as well and the train ride would be
safe enough.
       After the months of summer he wanted to see his friends again too.
They'd written but letters weren't really the same and he needed to see them.
It was all he could do to keep from running out to the Muggle side to meet them
at the front of the station.
       "Relax Harry," Remus said with a smile laying one hand lightly on the
boys shoulder. "It is early yet and they will be here," he added the
reassurance.
       "I know but I want to see them."
       The werewolf chuckled. It was at times like this that you forgot Harry's
power and saw him only as the eager adolescent waiting for his friends. This
was the young man he was meant to be; open, happy and joyful. And then he made
the switch, turning to look at him with eyes that were old.
       "Thank you for everything, Mooney," Harry said, his voice soft with
sincerity but laced with power. He wasn't given thanks for Remus' presence now
either.
       "I haven't done anything yet," Lupin replied. The full moon was in a day
or so, and the Gathering was after that. He'd actually avoided speaking with
Harry about that since that would just make the tangled mess that was the
current arrangement that much more complicated. That kept a level of
professionalism and distance.
       "You will," Harry said confidently. "And you already have," he added,
referring this time to the lessons Remus had supplied over summer. Combat
theory, practical dualing, operational planning, survival techniques and tips
and some classic sword work. A lot of Lupin's skills were born of necessity and
that made him the better teacher. While he had no formal Auror training, on
account of his furry little problem, most of the older Aurors and Order Members
recognised his skill. There had been no objections to his teaching.
       "If you can thank me for that," Remus said his own voice formal but
quiet enough not to carry, "I can thank you for what you have also done."
       "I have done anything yet," Harry replied.
       "You will," Lupin said and they both laughed, the formal air vanishing
with the mirth and to the first arrivals they looked like a father and son
laughing at some shared joke.
       "Later," Harry mouthed to Remus when a moment later, miraculously early
a pile of red heads appeared through the barrier. There was a moment of
relative silence before a cacophony of happy shouts; shouts that were soon
muffled by hugs. It appeared that almost the entire clan had come to see their
two youngest off.
===
       Harry had a moment to take in all the redheads before he was engulfed in
a huge bear hug.
       "Harry!" Ron shouted happily, pounding his back. "It's so good to see
you," the young man said as the rest of his family approached more sedately but
all had pleased expressions. Mrs Weasley stepped up to him, shooing Ron away as
she looked Harry over closely.
       "Being at Hogwarts agreed with you," she murmured as she pulled him into
a hug, which Harry returned though after a moment he gasped. "I need my ribs!"
       The others all laughed as Mrs Weasley released him. Fred and George held
their hands out to him and Harry shook them simultaneously before he turned and
smiled at Ginny. She was obviously trying not to impinge upon his space and he
saw her face fall slightly as she interpreted the smile as one of friendship
only.
       "I missed you," Harry said softly.
       Ginny's eyes widened slightly before she returned his smile. "I missed
you too," she replied carefully, her voice soft yet firm.
       Inner Harry was pleased he hadn't been too familiar with her but then
his other self reached out a hand, taking Ginny's subtly but with care. The
girls expression changed from well hidden disappointment to barely contained
elation in an instant. Inner Harry snarled soundlessly but his shell self just
continued talking with Ron, the Twins and Mr and Mrs Weasley as if nothing was
amiss.
===
       Dumbledore and Xeoaph watched as their weapon met his friends for the
first time this school year. They did miss any nuance of Harry's reactions and
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled wildly as he watched Harry reach out to take the
young Miss Weasley's hand.
       Fawkes had been right it appeared. Harry did know love but he also knew
how dangerous it could be to be advertising his feelings and he also knew
discretion. Beside him the Headmaster heard a soft breath of realise.
Apparently the vampires had been worried about something as well but whatever
he'd seen had been sufficient to at least calm some fears.
       "He would not have been inducted into the Order if he did not have the
capacity to love," Dumbledore murmured to his ally. "But young Harry knows more
than just the capacity," he finished.
       Xeoaph looked at the old wizard sharply, his thoughts hidden. "All
humans have the capacity," the vampire elder agreed. "But I have yet to see
proof of his love. This is a start but I am wary. And will remain that way
until it is proven otherwise. We cannot afford to be wrong."
       Dumbledore said nothing. In due course, despite the death of Xeoaph's
childe, and the shadows attack, the vampire elder would see that Harry was true
to the Light. Fawkes had looked into his soul and had felt the blinding purity
of the emotion. Albus had looked into Harry's eyes and seen the strength of
desire. Harry was of the light and he would be their weapon. The fact that he
could still love and laugh and cry with friends, the fact that he had friends
and not minions was just further proof and for the ancient wizard it was a
source of relief. Harry had all that, which meant he had a reason for living
and a reason to continue when things got difficult. Miss Granger had expressed
her desire to help and Dumbledore suppressed a smile as the young witch
appeared. The young muggle born would have her chance to help though it may not
be as easy as she thought. Even so, her presence, like that of Mr Weasley and
Miss Weasley may in the end, tip the balance.
       Tom understood rage, he understood lust and he had a vague understanding
of friendship but only in so far as one could use another. But Tom absolutely
could not comprehend love. And that would be his downfall, just as it had been
those years ago. This time though, his death would be permanent.
       The Headmaster looked around the platform watching as others greeted
their friends under their parents watchful eyes and loaded their trunks on to
the train. There was a boundless joy in some, nerves from the first years and a
few odd patches of solitude, grief and loneliness. Albus' eyes hardened for a
moment as he took them in. With Tom's strike and subsequent activity over the
summer and Lucius' Rebellion, the Ministry had been forced to step in to
provide guardians for some of the children who just didn't have a family who
could take them in. Usually magical children were more than welcome with other
family but there had been too many losses and in some cases whole branches of
some clans had been entirely wiped out. There were too few familial ties
remaining or too many factions who just didn't want to associate themselves
with another.
       And thus the Ministry had stepped in. Children below Hogwarts age were
formally adopted out to any wizarding line who would take them, while those of
Hogwarts age were given a guardian, someone who on a part time basis oversaw
their needs and kept them from too much trouble. These children now lived in a
boarding house like arrangement where meals were provided. It was up to the
individual guardian to ensure clothes and school supplies were purchased. Most
of the funding for this came from the inheritance of the children.
       It had been a near thing with the vote in the Wizengamot but it had been
decided that the cost of the orphans care would come from a percent of their
inheritance. One percent for every year they remained in the Ministry's
boarding houses. The precedent had of course been set by Hogwart's because that
was a long standing tradition that tuition fees were paid for by the estates of
those that could afford it.
       Mr Potter was a prime example. His yearly fees were duly deducted from
the familial vaults of the Potter clan as soon as Mr Potter attended the first
class of the year. In the case of those children who had no inheritance, the
Ministry had decided on a low interest loan system whereby once the child
reached maturity a portion of their wages would be deducted and paid to the
Ministry for the cost of their room and board. Of course should a relative or
interested family come forth and adopt one of the orphans then the deductions
or amount to be repaid would cease. It was one of those systems no one really
liked but everyone knew was necessary and so far it had worked acceptably but
time would tell.
       Some of the border children were happily conversing with friends but
others were isolated. Dumbledore recognised some as the offspring of Death
Eaters loyal to Tom, some not. He would have to make an effort to reach out to
these children this year to show them that there was a choice and that they did
not have to follow in their parents footsteps. As he noted some faces, the
Headmaster looked around for another face. It took a moment for him to find the
one he was looking for.
       Mr Malfoy was not isolated. He stood with a small group of friends
talking and laughing as per usual. Their parents chatted nearby and Dumbledore
wondered what they were plotting. If he was honest with himself he had been
expecting one of two outcomes for Lucius' wife and son. The first was their
execution on Tom's orders and the second was them just disappearing. With the
later disappearing in servitude or execution was much of a muchness. Neither
option had happened yet and that was somewhat curious. The old wizard doubted
they could have or even would have paid off Tom since even if not directly
involved Narcissa and Draco must have had some hand in Lucius' plans. Yet they
were both here as if nothing was wrong. He would give them both full credit for
blatant blazonism if nothing else but Dumbledore couldn't help but wonder how
they had managed this feat and what action, if any, Harry would take this year.
Despite urging the boy had not yet spoken about the attack but the perpetrators
were obvious. Nothing could be done until or unless Harry at least started the
proceedings. The Gryffindor had been told of this, numerous times but had yet
to speak.
       Beside him Xeoaph chuckled noticing his regard. "I'm pleased to see the
Malfoys," the vampire said, "though I am also amused."
       "Oh?"
       The elder vampire gestured. "Their appearance, the fiction that all is
well, when it is most definitely not. They are not stupid enough to believe
that they can continue as they have been or that they can return to the Dark
Lord's fold yet they gave that appearance. They are playing another game."
       "They are continuing what Lucius began?" Dumbledore asked with a note of
genuine surprise colouring his tone.
       "I do believe they are going to try," Xeoaph replied.
       "We must put a stop to that," Albus frowned. "Another force will just
confuse the issue."
       "Perhaps, but another force would weaken the Dark Lord so for the
moment, I suggest we leave them be, leave them to see what annoyance they will
provide to the other dark forces. They won't win," Xeoaph said confidently.
"They don't have the strength, but they may prove a sufficient thorn, that will
at least give us an advantage. Make no mistake, Dumbledore, they are a
distraction. The Dark Lord is the real threat and everything must be geared to
removing him."
       Albus nodded. "We will watch them but we must not become distracted by
them and care must be taken to ensure they no longer affect Harry. I know who
did it, I know who arranged it, but nothing can be done until Harry gives the
word and thus they must be separated for the moment, from him and from others."
       "Yet you are allowing this journey," the vampire gestured.
       "I am, because I have no wish to segregate Harry further from wizarding
society."
       Xeoaph nodded. As usual necessity warred with necessity and the most
economical reality won. "I could always deal with them," he murmured, watching
as the children boarded the train, waving frantically at those they'd be seeing
in a mere six months. Mortals were so... transient.
       Dumbledore smiled, though his smile displayed his resignation. As
tempting as it was to let the vampire go with his suggestion they both knew
that such an action would be disastrous to their alliance. The press would just
scream about it, ignoring what the perpetrators had done and that would just
fracture wizarding society, igniting the traditional anger towards anything
non-human and it would probably also further spur on those who believed that
halflings should not be allowed into society. No... no matter how neatly it
might resolve the situation, the Headmaster could not go with the vampires
suggestion.
       The Leader of the Light and one of the ancient elder vampires went back
to watching as the students continued to board the Hogwart's Express. So far
everything was quite but they both know how fast the tide could change.
===
       Harry sat in his train compartment, quietly watching his friends. They'd
corresponded over the summer but it really wasn't the same and, while he'd
missed them, he hadn't been lonely. That was something they didn't need to know
though; not yet, not until he was sure of them. He was almost sure they would
stand with him, but in this game, there was one thing he had learnt well from
the Serpent Lord: that in respect to followers, almost sure wasn't good enough.
       Not that he thought of his friends as followers. They were his
companions, his friends, and he needed and wanted them to stand with him. If
this had happened a few years back, he wouldn't have been as insistent on
giving them this chance, but he had grown up and they had grown up and
hopefully the pettiness of the past was just that. Past. He would know soon
enough.
       He was currently sharing a compartment with Ron, Hermione and Luna.
Ginny and Neville were just checking on one of two others, but had been here
earlier. Harry closed his eyes briefly, pretending to doze a bit as he thought.
       Ginny had been...tolerable. At least she hadn't jumped all over him
which was something. She seemed to accept that if they were to rebuild a
relationship then it had to be slow. She couldn't rush him and so her greeting
to him on the platform had been jubilant but restrained. It was the greeting of
a close friend, but not a lover and that for the moment suited Harry perfectly.
She'd whispered to him since "I don't care if you love him, Harry, and I don't
care that I'm not your first love; all I want is to be one of your loves." The
statement was telling but still clinging even if her actions were not. He could
love her, he would love her and he did love her. It was just that the part of
him that loved her was not the man he would be, and somehow he didn't think she
would accept that. While he needed her for cover, he was going to have to tread
carefully. There was nothing quite as stupid as being betrayed by a jilted
lover. He was not going to let her be that way.
       Neville had also been interesting when he'd seen Harry at the station.
The other boy had looked at his friend very closely and Harry could almost
sense that he was being measured, but then Neville had smiled and the feeling
had vanished. It had been odd but Neville had just greeted him as per usual,
holding Trevor as if nothing was wrong. There was something going on there and
he would find out what. Perhaps not today and maybe not tomorrow but the
behavior would be explained. The shadows had giggled at him but refused to say
anything about Neville. It was their usual annoying trait when they knew
something useful to him that would eventually transpire. He let them get away
with it because it kept them happy. The shadows had once told him they would do
what it took to keep him happy because that made getting what they wanted
easier from him, but the reverse was also true so he let them play these little
games because they gave freely of the important information.
       Luna had been and was being her usual self, which meant he hadn't
understood her greeting, and Hermione was sitting there with an exasperated
look on her face as Luna read the Quibbler side to side. Seeing the paper
struck a chord in Harry and he realized he needed to speak to Luna about the
paper. The Prophet was being acceptable...barely, but that was probably only
because someone was holding something over them. There was no doubt to Harry
that they would in time go back to useless drivel and when that happened, there
would have to be some paper publishing the truth. The Quibbler would be it, and
Harry would make sure that his beloved did not touch it. It was odd but he
liked Luna; both sides of him liked Luna. She was refreshingly honest and he
liked that... Hopefully the day would come when he could call her his Seeress.
       Ron and Hermione, of course, were sitting together and had been ecstatic
to see him after the months of mere correspondence. Harry could see that
Hermione was itching to ask about the training he'd done over the summer and
how his results were, but Harry suppressed a smile. He could tell her some
things about his training, but he could honestly tell her he didn't know what
his O.W.L scores were. He knew he'd done well-beyond well into the realm of
phenomenal- but he hadn't asked what the levels were. It would cost him an
elbow or two in the ribs from her but it would be worth it to see her face and
the amusement it would cause. Hermione hadn't said much either in greeting...
well nothing beyond the normal, but just as Harry could see the questions, he
could also see that she wanted to talk about other things and was holding off
until they could be in a safe place. Sometimes, just sometimes, he appreciated
her discretion and Harry smiled. Whatever questions she had would tell him a
lot about if she was with him, or if she was still tied to the concepts and
truths as given out by those in authority. He did so hope she had learnt to
question things.
       Ron was similar to Hermione in that he hadn't said much beyond the usual
greetings and some small talk about trivial issues. Discussing the Chudley
Cannons last drubbing was hardly a touchy topic, but then Ron, when he thought
about it, was strategic enough to outwit them all. He just didn't think about
it often. He had some questions, but they too would wait. What had been
interesting about Ron, though, was that he'd actually said on the station that
if Harry needed him this year then all he had to do was say and he would
understand. So perhaps Ron was willing to stand with him. That was a start but
it would require more than that before Harry told him the truth. It was,
however, the first step and Harry was relieved. He really didn't want a repeat
of his fourth year.
       Harry woke up from his doze as the door to their compartment slid open
to reveal, standing just on the threshold, one Draco Malfoy. Harry suppressed a
smirk as he looked carefully at his handiwork, letting both Ron and Hermione
run small interference before he was required to address the young man. His
spell was holding, but it was being and had been strained. That was both
pleasing and worrying. Pleasing because it was holding, but worrying because
Malfoy should not be able to strain his castings at all, yet apparently he was.
The charm also showed some minor evidence of removal being attempted. That had
probably been Narcissa, Harry determined, looking at the cuts and how they had
been delivered. For some reason most wizards over looked the skills of their
female counterparts. Not Harry though. Narcissa's attempts showed a great deal
of power, skill and control and that was something he filed away into memory.
Perhaps the dangerous one in that marriage was not Lucius. That would be
somewhat ironic but it would not alter the outcome of events. Silently Harry
reinforced his charm. He wanted Draco to remember but if it came to it,
Obliviate may just have to be used.
       "Well, well, well, what have we here?" the blond Slytherin drawled while
his lackeys, the ever present Goyle and Crabbe, just looked on.
       "Looks to be a Mudblood and a heap of blood traitors," Crabbe replied
and Harry let his jaw sag in a comical display of disbelief.
       "My god, it speaks!" Harry interrupted Malfoy's response. "Look everyone
and remember this momentous occasion."
       There were chuckles from around him and Harry flashed the others in his
compartment a grin as he stood up to face Malfoy and his goons.
       "Malfoy," Harry said and the joking tone in his voice vanished entirely.
"I don't know why you bothered to come but I'm not interested. I'm willing to
put galleons down on the fact that the others aren't interested either so I'll
give you this chance to leave, otherwise... well what's the score so far? 5-
nil, our favor... If you don't leave, you'll get the chance to change that
score line, but it will be changing to 6-nil." Harry finished with a nasty
smile. He fixed Malfoy's lackeys with a particularly strong glare, letting them
see the barest hint of his power.
       As expected, the two strong-arms stepped back, but interestingly, Malfoy
wasn't intimidated.
       "I see you are just as uncouth as always," the blond spat. "I'd thought
to bring you some news, but I guess the know-it-all bunch already knows it all
and thus, doesn't want it. A pity since this is most likely the last
opportunity they would have. So be it," Draco continued as he stepped back from
the door. "I'll give this slight warning instead. Change is coming and the
children of the past are now grown."
       "Get out of here Malfoy," Ron snapped, Hermione's hand on his arm
keeping him civil.
       "Oh, I'm going blood traitor. But when the time comes, don't say I
didn't try to warn you." With those final words, the blond Slytherin swept out
and the others turned to Harry as Ginny and Neville returned, their faces
showing identical broad grins. They'd been waiting in the nearby compartments
for the annual visit by the bouncing ferret, and had been ready to ambush them
in the case that the visit followed its usual routine. It was almost a pity
that it hadn't been as per normal but the fact that neither Ginny nor Neville
needed to be called upon was just making the joke more amusing.
       Hermione giggled. "I thought he was going to swallow his tongue!" she
said before frowning slightly. "I wonder though what news he thinks we'd be
interested in?"
       "What? Beyond the fact his Father is a Death Eater, oh wait, a Rebel
Death Eater who hasn't been spotted for months, his Mother has been busy
keeping quiet about everything and the Malfoy name is worth nothing?" Ron
drawled.
       "Or it could be something school related, like who the next DADA teacher
is."
       "That's hardly important or newsworthy. Besides, I'm sure Harry would
know."
       "Know what?"
       "Whom the DADA teacher is."
       Harry shook his head, ignoring the looks of disbelief from four sets of
eyes and one bored look from Luna. "Nope, don't know," he said. "I never
asked."
       "Oh Harry!" Ginny sounded exasperated.
       "It didn't concern me!" he protested. He really didn't know who would be
the DADA teacher, mostly because he didn't want to know and it really didn't
concern him. Dumbledore hadn't come right out and say it but it was fairly
obvious that for Harry, class was about to become optional. Even if he got a
choice in it, he would probably still want to remain at Hogwarts to keep an eye
on the ancient wizard if nothing else but if he was pushed he'd say it was
because he wanted to remain around people his own age and experience the
wizarding world that way because he was still young. He almost chuckled. Soon
the wizarding world would conform to his desires so any lack of knowledge would
be academic.
       "It really didn't concern me," he repeated, "And without his father's
influence, I doubt Draco would know that either." He added. "Whatever he wanted
to brag about isn't worth it."
       "That's what I said," Ron said and the cabin laughed letting the subject
drop.
       "How was your summer?" Harry asked pre-empting any specific questions
about his summer.
       Harry smiled, occasionally inserting a question which kept the group
talking as they travelled through the country side. It was a pleasant way to
spend the time and he savored it as much as he could. Few other things this
year would be as pleasant.
       They talked for hours, not noting the time until the train jolted
suddenly and they were thrown into each other by the sudden stop.
       "What was that?" Ron asked as he looked around.
       "I don't know," Neville replied, looking out the window.
       "Whatever it was, we best get about and re-assure the First Years,"
Hermione said practically. The Hogwarts Express stopping wasn't that much of an
issue. It had stopped in the past, just never so suddenly.
       "Wait," Harry said suddenly, feeling something on the edge of his sense.
He concentrated and sent out some magical probes, testing the currents of
magic.
       There was a lot of nervous energy on the train and uncertainty. They
weren't the only ones surprised by the sudden stop but there was nothing yet
wrong. Harry reached further, feathering his perception around the train.
       There.
       He could sense them; a lot of magical signatures that did not belong. A
lot of magical signatures he recognized; Death Eaters loyal to his beloved. And
there... close but not so close as to be easily sensed, was the Dark Lord
Voldemort himself with someone Harry didn't recognize.
       Harry's internal self-suppressed glee. Oh, his beloved really did know
how to make a statement.
       Outwardly, he schooled his face into an expression of surprised
determination as he opened his eyes. "He's here," he said softly.
       The others faces ran through a gamut of emotion - surprise, shock, fear
before they too took on the same determination he showed.
       "We need to help the other students to get out of the way," Neville said
with conviction.
       "We also need to raise the alarm," Ginny added.
       Hermione looked at Harry with a particularly intense look, one that said
she would have many questions later.
       "Harry, could you sense where they are coming from?" Ron asked,
obviously thinking about what position they should take to be the most
effective.
       "They're coming in from the front and sides," Harry said. "And just wait
a second, I'll raise the alarm but we are going to have to move some of them."
       "Can you fight him?" Ron asked the question Hermione was obviously dying
to know the answer to but was too polite to come out and ask.
       "Probably, but if I do it here there will be too much collateral
damage," Harry said nonchalantly. "And Dumbledore doesn't really want me to do
it alone. I will if there is no other choice but this time. Let's get everyone
out." Harry closed his eyes, focusing on the feel of Fawkes within him. In the
distance from the front of the train there came some cries of surprise and a
few detonations that were probably spells and the attempts of some to fight.
Internally, Harry rolled his eyes. It was honorable and all that, but for those
who didn't know how to fight, running was not cowardice; it was sensible.
       Fawkes stirred and Harry relayed the message and the feeling of the Dark
Lord being near. He felt the phoenix's surprise and worry but also his
confirmation and the reassurance that the Order of the Phoenix would be there
as soon as they could. Harry gave Fawkes an impression of roughly where they
were, but unfortunately for him and the phoenix the country side all looked
about the same. From his vantage point he could see no defining features, and
he didn't know which co-ordinates he was at for apparition.
       "All right," Harry said, opening his eyes, "They'll be here soon. And
yes, I am a member of the Order, but questions can wait. Ron, what's the best
plan?"
       "Some of us need to go forward to tell everyone to move back and the
rest of us need to go back and make the others keep moving back and to get off
the train and to keep together as a group. Or if we can't get to the end of the
train then to get off anywhere that provides some cover. Older students should
accompany the younger years and where possible they should hide or run.
Fighting is the last resort if they are cornered and have no other choice."
       The group nodded and Harry took command. "Luna and Ginny, please move
back down the train and tell everyone what to do. Ron, Hermione and Neville,
you'll come with me and we'll go forward. We aren't trying to fight; we are
just trying to get everyone to safety." Outer Harry let his eyes meet Ginny's,
silently pleading for her not to argue and to go on what was the safest course.
In a world where he truly loved her, this is what he would have done and Fawkes
who was stirring the Order, but was still active within him, chirped softly at
his gesture.
       The group nodded and then split up as they left the compartment.
       As they moved forward, Harry watched how the others worked together.
They followed his movements well and, though they also needed some work,
generally things went smoothly. As they went past each compartment, one of
them, usually Hermione stuck her head inside and gave instructions to the
occupants. It was a strong voice in the midst of uncertainty, and coming from a
Sixth Year, they didn't get much argument about their instructions. Internally,
Harry shook his head slightly. It was beneficial to them in this instance, but
sheep followed along blindly; witches and wizards should have more nouce. As
much as they were able to, they grouped the First Years with older students so
that they at least had some protection and then they moved on, trusting that
Luna and Ginny would take over and issue further instructions when the groups
of students got further down the train.
       They'd only gotten through a few carriages before they ran into
problems.
       The Dark Lord's forces were attacking from the front and sides. Anyone
with a wit of tactics would know that the Serpent Lord's forces weren't
seriously trying to kill anyone with this attack, else the escape route down
the back of the train would have been covered. But most of the students
wouldn't realize that, nor would the parents, not for quite some time. This was
merely an attack about presence, to show that The Dark Lord could and would
attack what he wanted, when he wanted and there was naught that the Ministry
could do about it. Oh, this would no doubt push parents into demanding that the
Ministry better fight the Dark Lord, which would make their eventual defeat all
the more resounding.
       They'd been about to jump between carriages when a barrage of curses had
pinned them in place. Luckily, they had cover and Harry and his friends flanked
the last door way heading out of the carriage. Ron and Hermione were on one
side while Harry and Neville were on the other. Alternately, they leaned
slightly to cast into the hills where the Death Eaters were.
       "We need to get a bit further on," Hermione said.
       "That won't do us any good if we don't secure this door," Ron replied,
looking around.
       Neville nodded. At first, their year mate had looked rather distressed,
but as they'd worked their way through the carriages, Neville had seemed to
become more self-assured and now he had a slight grin on his face. He was still
worried and still controlled, but he knew what he was doing. "Over there,"
Neville shouted, pointing with his wand and casting a quick curse towards the
side. "That's some flitterbloom and we can use that to form a shield over the
carriages."
       Harry nodded. The basic strategy was sound though he could already see
many ways it could end in disaster, but he was fairly sure that none of the
Death Eater's would take those options... Setting the wood of the plant on fire
would be ridiculously easy and would trap the students who were trying to use
it as a passage way. Either that or a strong enough Diffindo would cut through
it and anyone inside. Let alone what any number of other curses would do, but
for now he let that be. They needed something to cover over the walk way
between the carriages so that they could get out some more students and it
would suffice. This attack had to have survivors after all.
       "We'd better do it quick," Ron put in. "All of us should levitate it
together to get the cover complete in one go."
       "On three," Hermione said. "Harry, you do the top, Neville you do the
left side, I'll do the right side and Ron just general covering fire please,"
she added the instructions before counting. "One, two, three!"
       "Wingardium Leviosa!" They all cried in unison, focusing on the plant.
Ron just laid about with random curses designed more to hinder and force others
to cover. Their plan worked without a hitch which, all things considered, was a
good thing and as soon as their cover was in place, Harry led the others
through into the next carriage and they continued working their way down the
train, sending the students to safety.
       He could still feel Fawkes within him which was making his true self
itchy with frustration. It would be so much easier to work out what to do if he
could just spare an instant to speak to his beloved, or even a mental brush up
would tell Harry the plan and then he could adjust his plans. He did not want
to come into contact with the Dark Lord today. As they continued forward, the
sounds of battle became louder and Harry was also curious about that. who was
fighting? Who was able to fight? Whomever it was, he would find out in due
course he consoled himself.
       "Harry!" The exclamation brought him back to himself in time for him to
duck under a barrage of curses. He sent his own back absently as he took cover
with his friends. They were with a group of First Years who were cowering.
       "We can't get much further," Ron said. "The curses are coming too fast.
I counted at least 20 and that's just too many for us to fight."
       Harry nodded unconcerned. "The Order should be here soon," he said
softly, keeping his voice matter of fact to calm the First Years who were
listening in, straining to hear anything of comfort. He supposed that for them,
this was not the most ideal introduction to magic, but he would attempt to show
them that magic was not something to be feared; rather it was something they
could use. "I guess we will hold here and try to get the students from this
carriage to us, so that we can cover them." Harry looked at one of the First
Years who didn't appear quite as catatonic as the others. "This carriage was
mostly First Years?" he asked.
       "Yes, but most were near the first compartment," the eleven year old
said.
       "Bloody hell," Ron summarized the situation as he looked up the corridor
and the odd curses that were still raining into it. The Death Eaters had
apparently decided that quantity was a virtue even if they couldn't see a
target and were still streaming curses into the train in an unfortunately
successful attempt to keep the occupants pinned down under whatever cover they
had. And still ahead of them came the unmistakable sound of fighting.
       Harry sighed. "You First Years, stay down. Right at the moment that's
the best thing you can do, and no peeking. This isn't a game, but I'm sure you
realized that already. I'll go up ahead now and cover those others who have
gotten stuck, before the bad guys close in."
       "Harry, you can't!" Hermione objected.
       "Someone has to," Harry countered. "And I'm the best qualified. So long
as I don't run into Voldemort himself, it will be fine," he added the
reassurance.
       There wasn't much they could say because they knew he was right, and
with a last nod at them, Harry jumped and dashed through the corridor working
his way up the carriage towards the trapped First Years.
       When he got to the compartment and wedged himself under cover with them,
he could see the problem. There had been injuries. A couple of the students had
been pinned by wood and there looked to be a lot of blood staining everything.
Some of the First Years were trying to help the injured using Muggle means,
others were just milling around under cover, unsure of what to do. Harry
sighed. He was not a medic and while he knew some charms, it was not his
strength. Still, he had to employ them now and with a practiced wave of his
wand he stepped forward to see what he could do... right as the side of the
compartment was ripped away.
       Harry had time to glimpse the black robes and white faces of the Death
Eaters before he reacted, flinging up the strongest shields he could around
himself and the First Years. There was a moment of startled silence that was
tinged with shock as the Death Eater's recognized him before their spells
started impacting on his shield.
       Harry had trained for a day such as this and he reinforced his shield,
dodging as best as he could away from the all the curses that were streaking
around. Thankfully, there was no brilliant green of Avada Kedavra.
       There was one good thing about the position, Harry reflected absently as
he maintained the shield. He could see the battle field better, but what he
could see was not that reassuring. The Death Eaters were doing okay and there
were now little pockets of Order of Phoenix members and Xeoaph's Vampires,
fighting back and seemingly doing okay, but up near the front of the train, he
could see the Dark Lord.
 
***** Diversion *****
Weapon
Chapter 20 Diversion
===
       Voldemort was surrounded by a core of his most ardent followers who were
performing defence while he was attacking. Harry could see that the Serpent
Lord was relaxed and he resisted the urge to speak to his beloved. There was
something else going on here obviously for the Dark Lord to be so relaxed and
for this attack to be so tepid.
       It was as if the dark forces were showing off. As if they just wanted to
be seen, but didn’t particularly care about any damage they may be causing or
not causing as the case was. Harry could think of no other reason his beloved
would be playing.
       That was the only way he could describe what he was seeing.
       Voldemort was trading blows with Draco Malfoy and while the blond
appeared terrified he was also doing surprisingly well, pulling off charms that
Harry didn’t think the young wizard was capable of. Obviously he’d put in some
serious training over the summer, much like a certain Gryffindor.
       Harry was thankful the others couldn’t see or there would be some
questions, maybe not about the dark forces but certainly about Draco and right
at the moment he didn’t want anything interfering with the Slytherin. He would
have his own questions for the Dark Lord as soon as he was able.
       With a lazy flick of his wand, Voldemort shrugged off the Slytherin,
stunning the blond but not moving in for the kill. Red serpent eyes swept over
the battle field and for an instant green and red gaze’s met but both were
aware of the approaching members of the Order of the Phoenix, and the Vampires
and Aurors.
       The Dark Lord apparated in a swirl of red robes without saying a word
and the Death Eaters followed, leaving the battle field eerily silent.
       Harry let out an explosive breath, letting his shield fall as he turned
his focus back towards healing charms. His friends quickly came into the
carriage, but were discrete enough to stand back as they saw him working. Soon
the medics called from St Mungos were Apparating in, but by that time Harry had
healed the wounds of the First Year who was sitting, shaking his head a bit
groggily but was otherwise fine. The rest of the First Years looked at him with
something akin to awe and Harry just smiled slightly, wiping bloody hands on
his robes as he stood.
       With a few quick steps, Harry moved over to the most senior member of
the Order he could see.
       “Good work, Harry,” Kingsley said, looking around at the damage.
       It was rather impressive actually. There were several carriages almost
completely disassembled and from the wreckage there were students climbing out
from behind cover. Apparently those who had not been able to run had been able
to do the sensible thing and hide. That would explain why so many Death Eaters
had still been gathered at the front of the train. Obviously they were trying
to get those who were under cover, though to Harry something with the attack
wasn’t right. He didn’t say anything; the Order and the Ministry would just
have to work it out themselves.
       The engine of the Hogwarts Express was unhitched from the rest of the
carriages and was lying on its side, about 80 metres to the side of the tracks.
They wouldn’t be travelling that way though to the school, not unless they were
prepared to compromise the scene to clean up the wreckage and someone, probably
Dumbledore, levitated the locomotive back to the tracks. Other arrangements
would have to be made to get the students to Hogwarts this year.
       Harry shook his head. He was glad this wasn’t going to be his problem,
nor would he have to talk to the media. They were going to have a field day
with this and as Harry thought that, he understood his beloved’s purpose with
this attack. It was not about anything except showing his presence, and what
better way to do that than to show that no one was safe. That’s why no one had
died. Voldemort didn’t want that, not this time. This time it was about
presence.
===
       After being dismissed by the blood traitor, Draco had stalked to the
front of the Hogwarts Express, suppressing his rage. He’d learnt spells and
charms over the summer but the Gryffindork and his ilk could still control the
situation and that infuriated him. He still had much to learn it would seem.
But those things were quickly forgotten as he was thrown to the ground and from
around him there came the unmistakeable sounds of many apparition points.
       He’d been momentarily stunned when he’d hit the ground and it took him a
moment to realise that the train had been stopped and that he could hear the
pops of apparition only because the noise of the Express was no longer present.
Father never warned me there would be an attack, he thought dumbly, before the
memory and realisation that his father was no more in a position of power re-
established itself in his mind again and he shuddered with cold fear. He had to
carve his own future and while being the son of the Dark Lord Lucius would have
been enough for him there was a certain satisfaction from knowing that his
eventual position would be because of his own work and talents. Never would the
future be able to say that he had just inherited power, wealth and position.
The future would know he had fought and had won it over the bodies of his
enemies. They would know that he, Draco Malfoy, was a wizard of supreme ability
and foresight, descended from a line that was known for those traits, true, but
he would be known as the epitome of them.
       He was consumed by the fantasy for only an instant but was brought
shockingly back to the present at the sound of tearing, and there came the
flash of a cold breeze against his skin. He realised then that the carriage was
being torn apart and the words of his mother came to the fore. “Be aware and be
prepared for anything at any time. The Serpent Lord may no longer be the true
heir of the dark but never doubt he is formidable and never doubt that he can
plan. You will win in time, Draco, my son, but remember always he has the
history and the planning that must be over come first.”
       This then was merely an example of the Serpent Lord’s ability. Most in
the wizarding community didn’t doubt that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had
returned, but the level of fear that had accompanied his last rise was not yet
present. Why? Because everyone was relying on that darned Potter to defeat him
again! Draco knew, he could feel that it was a false hope; one that the light
would pay dearly for, but one his followers would be prepared to accept and
would know in their hearts. They would not be caught by surprise. Screams from
around him indicated that many had been caught unaware by the Serpent Lord’s
attack and Draco rolled himself behind cover as he sent his astral self to
assess the situation.
       This attack by the Serpent Lord would go a long way towards re-
establishing the fear in the community. If the children were not safe, if
Dumbledore could fail here, then nowhere was safe. The tactician in Draco
admired the cunning, but while the Serpent Lord’s plan was even now complete,
it provided him with an opportunity. He had followers yes, those already
willing to follow the name Malfoy, but for him to be successful he needed more.
He needed to recruit those who were still considering following the Serpent
Lord or maintaining their neutrality. He had to show everyone that he was a
viable force, not just a child’s voice. And the Serpent Lord’s attack was his
best opportunity. If he could defeat a couple of Death Eaters, then the entire
school would know his name, as would the rest of the wizarding community in
time. His mother could use that. While he recruited the future, she would use
the opportunity to recruit the seniors to his cause.
       Draco smiled, picking out his targets before drawing his astral body
back to himself, simultaneously drawing his secondary wand. It was time to show
Hogwarts what he’d learnt this summer.
===
       Voldemort sat in his throne room both pleased and irritated by the
results of the midday battle. “Tell me again why I didn’t kill the junior
Malfoy?” he snarled at the shadows after checking that Kisha was well away. By
mutual agreement the elder vampire had not and would not participate in any
battle until the impact would be the best. The element of surprise and the
complete stripping of the allegiance between the Vampires and the Order made it
worth Voldemort’s time to agree to the lack of assistance from Xeoaph’s sire.
       The shadows chuckled at his vehemence. :Because, you agreed to give him
to our Master,: they replied almost happily.
       “And now he grows arrogant,” the Dark Lord replied, “thinking he can
match me.”
       :Let him think what he wants,: the shadows advised. :In the end, those
who follow him will be brought low.:
       “Yet those who follow him, should be following me.”
       :You want the intelligent ones, those who can see where true power lies,
not those who follow the flash and promise of illusion.:
       “I do,” Voldemort conceded, “But I still need the children. I do not
need them blinded by their fellows’ supposed ability. I do not need them
following Malfoy and thinking of all the things that might please that young
upstart, where such things bring risk to my mate.”
       The shadows seemed to nod, granting the Dark Lord a point in that line
of reasoning. :Even should the younglings follow Draco, we will see to it that
our Master is unharmed. Those who raise their hand against our Master will
suffer. We need our Master happy with us, even more than you do, Serpent Lord,:
they added, their choral voice dark with inflection before they lightened. :
Leave Draco with his illusions, it makes his fall sweeter and gives the
Vampires hope that their price may yet be paid.:
       Voldemort chuckled. “They don’t honestly expect a Malfoy to honour
whatever pact they had?”
       :Not yet, but in due course, they are hoping to extract at least partial
payment. Xeoaph invested heavily in Lucius, he has to try to recoup something,:
the shadows said playfully.
       The Serpent Lord was silent for a long moment, considering what he knew,
what he thought the shadows were planning, and what he was planning. In the
end, if a few followed Draco it would make no difference, so long as no harm
came to his beloved, and in that he knew that the shadows would be fierce
guardians. The younger Malfoy was of no consequence in the larger scheme and
the only regret in his destruction would be the mourning of another pure line
vanishing. With a hiss, he let the argument go, turning his attention to the
battle tonight.
       As anyone with an ounce of sense would have worked out the attack on the
Express was diversionary and illustrative, but he hadn’t intended to inflict
real harm in that strike. His goals with that attack had been met, and already
his Ministry spies were reporting that most of the Ministry were now set the
task of reassuring distraught parents and of attempting to work with the Order
to come up with better security plans. Once they realised he could do what he
wanted, when he wanted, and started actually planning on fighting then they
would have more success, Voldemort thought to himself, but that was hardly
advice he would be providing them. If they were too dense to realise that on
their own, they needed his leadership more than he thought, and much more than
they realised.
       Tonight though, that would be the real test for him. The actual
logistics of the strike were easy, but the reactions of his followers and their
ability to believe and to adapt, that would be what was truly tested. If they
failed, if they did not meet his expectations, then his plans would be put
back. The Hogwarts Express had been a taste of fear for the Wizarding
Community. Tonight would be the main course.
       “How many will I lose?” he speculated a loud.
       :Some, but not many,: the shadows replied. :Most of those you see
tonight follow you without question and on the few times they’ve been forced to
think, they have followed your logic. There is after all, a reason some of them
are of your upper echelons.:
       Voldemort smiled, almost ironically. “That is true, they will follow my
lead for these are my forces that may have failed me, but have not betrayed me
and while I prefer neither failure nor betrayal, those who fail can succeed in
other ways; those who betray me, are dead to me forever.”
       :And that is how it should be,: the shadows whispered.
===
       Harry blew out his breath, losing patience. He and most of the other
students were still just milling around while the Order, the Ministry, and any
other interested party tried to decide what to do. You would have thought that
their key priority would be to move the students to Hogwarts; then they could
have examined the wreckage at their leisure and held as many interviews as they
wanted. But no... Apparently everyone was too in shock to take the logical path
and he was fast losing his patience. Only the causalities had been apparated
out, some to St Mungos but most to Madame Promfrey. None of the injuries were
really that bad, but it had been deemed best to ease the strain on the Hogwarts
Infirmary as much as possible. The students would be apparated to Hogwarts in
another day or so, after they were cleared by the Medi-wizards.
       As yet another Ministry official eyed him off in that way that said they
were working up their courage to talk to him, he finally lost his patience.
“Gather your things,” he said to his friends, looking around at each of them.
“We at least are going to make it to Hogwarts.”
       Harry strode purposefully over to Mad Eye. To be fair, the elder Auror
looked as disgusted as he did at the situation and had been trying to make
arrangements to clear out the non-combatants, but each time he seemed to have
the situation under control, another ministry official would do or say
something and the situation would deteriorate again. “I’m leaving,” Harry said
firmly. “There is nothing more I can do here and it would be better to clear
out as many as possible.”
       “Tell that to them,” Mad Eye growled, flicking his hand through an
encompassing gesture.
       “Just override them,” Harry suggested. “What are they going to do?
Complain?” he added in an impish tone.
       Mad Eye froze before he laughed, a short bark of noise that seemed to
attract attention. “I’ll see you later,” he said, giving his approval for Harry
to leave before he turned back to the Ministry Officials and began shouting,
exerting authority as an Auror he technically didn’t have but that his
reputation and presence would grant him for the moment.
       Harry grinned and then walked back to his friends, seeing that they had
gathered everything they needed together, including his bags. “Okay, link
hands,” he instructed, “I’m going to apparate us.”
       Hermione’s eyes went wide. “Harry, are you sure?” she asked, a touch of
doubt shading her tone. At least she hadn’t given the rout “You can’t apparate
into Hogwarts” speech.
       “Yeah, I’m sure,” he replied firmly. “I’ll need a good sleep tonight,”
he added for her benefit. Side along apparition was one thing and was something
well known, but no one really ever took more than two people. He was planning
on taking five others, with baggage; it was fair that she was worried. “I’ve
had enough of them worrying over a battle that was nothing more than
diversion,” he added, before with a slight flash and a large pop they vanished,
reappearing at the Hogwarts boundary wards.
       Hermione looked around as the disorientation faded and Harry caught the
slight look of disappointment. He grinned at her, winking “Can’t apparate into
Hogwarts, now can you, Hermione?”
       She smiled back at him, recognising his jest. “No, you can’t,” she
replied, pulling out her wand to cast feather light charms on their trunks as
they prepared to walk up to the castle.
       About half way there Ron frowned and looked at Harry. “Harry,” he said,
his voice sort of doubtful. “What did you mean, diversion?”
       “Hmm?”
       “At the Express, you said you’d had enough of people who thought the
battle was a diversion. What did you mean?”
       “I meant what I said Ron. I want you to think about it for a while, it
will come to you. But think about this, why was the only major damage to the
Express? Why were none of the students killed?”
       “Velma was pretty heavily injured,” Ginny said.
       “But not by spells. She was injured by debris, not by any spell work,”
Neville said almost immediately. “Why didn’t they kill anyone?” he asked with a
frown.
       “Why indeed?”
       “So you think the battle was a diversion?” Ron asked again. “But a
diversion for what?”
       “It could be anything,” Hermione broke in. “It could even be nothing
more than a publicity stunt. Ginny, you told me over the summer, the last time
he was on the rise, sometimes, just sometimes, he did things that seemed to
make no sense, that were really only there just to show that he was there.”
       “Yes.” The red-haired girl replied reluctantly.
       “Then could this have been that? How better to show that you are back
that by disrupting the Express, something most wizards thought was safe? In one
stroke he shows he’s back, and that not even the children are safe and he gets
to strike at the blind belief that Dumbledore can save everything. I think a
lot of wizards are counting on Dumbledore to save them again. By striking in
Dumbledore’s domain, V... v... voldemort,” she said the name with a grimace,
“shows that he can and will strike at anything and that as far as he is
concerned, his victory is only a matter of time.”
       Harry nodded, letting the others take the explanation from Hermione
before they began walking again to the castle.
       Luna sidled up next to him though, and the look she gave him was open
and frank. “Not all Phoenix are red,” she said.
       Harry decided to be direct. “Really, I hadn’t seen any that weren’t
red.”
       “Fawkes is black,” Luna added cryptically. “You are black, but the
darkness is not the same.”
       “Luna. I’m not a Phoenix.”
       “I know. You aren’t even one in your other form. But Fawkes is black and
you are black, but not all darkness is evil. And sometimes evil hides in the
light.”
       “Luna...” Harry said uncertainly.
       “It’s just something you need to know,” she said with a soft smile
before turning away hurrying a little to catch up with Ginny, leaving Harry
rather perplexed.
       He shook his head briefly before looking up as they rounded the corner.
       The majestic castle of Hogwarts reared up ahead of them and Harry
smiled. This was his home. The castle merely grew more beautiful in his eyes as
the years went on. It was the first place he felt safe and while he received a
similar feeling of comfort and safety in the Dark Lord’s arms, the castle was
the first place and was perhaps his first love. He wanted to protect it.
       It might have been a trick of the light but in the setting sun, Hogwarts
seemed to shimmer and Harry nodded towards the ancient building, sending his
heart out to it receiving back an almost startled feeling of recognition that
smoothed out to confirmation and an odd sort of love. In his mind Harry
snickered but not unkindly. In a peculiar way the castle was alive, and it did
love him and the other students, most of them anyway, but the love of a
building was different to the love of another human. Harry did not discount it
though. Fighting in an environment that loved you and wanted to protect you
would give at least some advantage, and he sighed imperceptibly and relaxed
into the feeling of rightness he got from Hogwarts. For now, that feeling was
the closest he could get to what he felt when he was in his beloved’s arms and
after the activity today, he needed the calming embrace.
===
       Molly Weasley nursed a cup of tea as she sat in the almost unnatural
silence at the Burrow. Arthur had gone to the office for a bit, leaving her
alone after they had dropped off the children for their school year. She
listened to the clock tick as she stared into the fire. It was always difficult
adjusting to the silence and that’s why Arthur always gave her a few hours and
usually she would putter around making sure the children’s rooms were left
orderly and begin dinner, but today she just sat and considered.
       Her children were growing up. She knew that intellectually, but today
she had felt it in her heart. Just watching them at the station had shown her
that. Ron was confident with Hermione, and Fred and George were as
lackadaisical as ever, but they would be okay. She could feel it. Her worry was
focused on Ginny. There was just something wrong there. It was odd. She
couldn’t put her finger on it, but something about today had been off. Molly
took a sip of tea before closing her eyes, remembering.
       Harry had been the perfect gentlemen with her daughter and perhaps that
was the problem, Molly realised rather belatedly. There didn’t seem to be any
excitement there. She frowned at her own thoughts. She would have thought the
word would be love but Mrs. Weasley was sure enough of her subconscious
observations.
       Ginny and Harry liked each other well enough, she conceded that, but it
went no further. Even between Ron and Hermione there was a spark, something
exciting that was between loving couples. It was not between Harry and Ginny.
It was hard to define what was missing but there was something not quite right.
They might work as a couple, but it would not be true love and that made her
rather sad. She felt she should warn Ginny or Harry or somehow show them; just
that at the moment, she couldn’t think how.
       Between them, it was undoubtedly first love, but first love was not true
love and it didn’t last though most remembered their first loves with fondness.
       Molly sighed as she got up to stir the fire. She might want to help, but
there was nothing she could do at the moment. Hopefully they would see what was
missing in time. If not... if not... was it really her place to be dictating?
She hoped they saw it before it was too late. They could still be friends, even
if they weren’t destined to be mates.
===
       “What the hell were you thinking?”
       There were times when Draco wished that his hearing wasn’t quite so good
and having Millicent scream at him in a display that was very unSlytherin-like,
was definitely one of those times.
       Blaise reached out making placating gestures towards the female, but no
less angry. The rest of their house just looked upon the tableau, interested
but not interfering. “What makes you think you could take on the Dark Lord,
Draco? Your father? Your money? Your blood? You saw what happened last year,
yet you still want to try.”
       Draco raised one eye brow. He had to win this argument or no one would
follow him. He could see their point. In the past he would have just ignored
them as blustering, trusting that they would see things his way soon enough.
But to have his house follow him he would have to win this argument.
       “Yet here I am,” Draco said with a small smile, his grey eyes shining.
“I understand your concerns, but he is not the Dark Lord we sacrificed so much
for. Once he was perhaps, but he is no longer. That is what my father was
adamant to show and that is what I have shown. I walked away. What Dark Lord
would have let me walk away?” He didn’t like calling the Serpent Lord the Dark
Lord, but the others expected it and he didn’t like downplaying his abilities,
but he had no choice. He had to show that the former Dark Lord was weak. He had
to show that they needed to find a new lord.
       “And here we are,” Blaise countered. “Waiting for the axe to fall
because we followed you already. Our parents are dead, Draco. You better hope
your father is also dead or else he is suffering. There are not enough of us to
make a difference in any action you wish to take. He won. And all we can do at
the moment, Draco, is hope that the Light can win. Not our usual course of
action, I admit, but the only one that offers survival for us.
       “As you said, you walked away, Draco. But then so did everyone else. The
Dark Lord wasn’t interested in killing this time; he was interested in showing
his presence. He can kill whenever he wants; you know that, I know that.
Millicent and I know that more than most.” Blaise finished sadly.
       “So you will just sit and wait for death?” Draco challenged.
       “If I had of had my way, I wouldn’t be here, Draco,” Millicent said
softly. “I would be in America or Australia or even Asia, anywhere but here
because I know what I have done and I know that I won’t just be allowed to walk
away. I’m now put in a position where I can’t support either side, Draco, but
that does not mean I will support you. You do not have the strength to win.
       “Let’s imagine for a minute, Draco, you walked away this time because
for whatever reason you had the power to walk away. So what? You fought him in
one battle, but you do not have the followers. They followed your father,
Draco, and they died for their efforts, our parents included.”
       The rest of Slytherin house watched. They were aware of the divide in
their house; it was something that would only be shown here, in the privacy of
their common room. To the rest of the school they would present a united front,
but that would happen tomorrow. Mostly. There would be subtle sniping at each
other and depending on how the war went then perhaps there would be a public
split in the house, but for the moment they watched, separated along the lines
of their loyalties.
       There were four groups of differing size. The first years weren’t here.
With the disaster on the train the sorting would be tomorrow and the first
years were currently sleeping in the Great Hall. It wasn’t quite the start of
the year that people had hoped, but at least they were alive.
       Most of the Slytherins were gathered to one side. They were those that
were still loyal to the Dark Lord and to his ideals. Many of them had been
present at his little talk to the children and while the idea of accepting
mudbloods and half-bloods as equals based on their power was a bit grating they
could reluctantly see the logic. They saw the Dark Lord’s power and they
desired to live even if they didn’t see the logic fully.
       There was another group of about a quarter of the students gathered with
a slight divide between them and the others. They were those who would hold
neutral. It was a position that was becoming more precarious, but at least if
they did decide to support a side, they had not already insulted anyone. They
just watched; faces very carefully blank.
       The two last groups were about the same size and represented those few
who were loyal to Draco and the others were loyal to Dumbledore and the light
side. If Draco was distressed by the numbers he didn’t show it. Instead he
stood tall and subtly exuded power. Most were too experienced to be phased by
that, but it was affecting a few.
       “You cannot run, Millicent, you cannot hide. You have two choices at the
moment,” Draco said smoothly, not letting the fact that there were so few
supporting him affect his argument. He acted as if the entire house was behind
him. “You can either sit around and wait for death, or you can fight. And since
neither side will accept you Millicent, that doesn’t leave many sides for you
to pick, now does it?”
       “And because I supposedly have no other choice, I should follow you?”
Millicent hissed scornfully. “Not likely Draco, I already saw where that goes.
You-Know-Who made it very clear to us what happens if we go against him. You
are the only one who seems not to have learnt the lesson.”
       “You have? You have learnt so well that you will now sit and wait for
death.”
       “That hasn’t been determined,” Blaise interrupted. “But if we raise our
hands again, then I think it’s a rather foregone conclusion. Perhaps the Dark
Lord won’t accept us back, but it is entirely possible with his victory that we
will be living if we do not raise our hands against him.”
       Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “A faint hope if ever I heard
one,” He couldn’t stop himself from murmuring.
       “Better than no hope at all,” Zabini countered. “Which is all you are
offering. Even if you had the power to match the Dark Lord, something I doubt,
you lack the experience and you don’t have enough followers to seize power.
Your mother has been trying all summer to garner support, but it’s a lost cause
Draco. You father already gathered the support, and tried and failed. There are
no others who will follow now. You have different choices than we do Draco, but
they amount to the same. I suggest you make them, rather than try to keep on
the path your father made. If you follow that path then you will suffer the
same fate.” Blaise shook his head slightly as he turned away. He could see many
of the rest of his house nodding almost imperceptibly. He was known for his
logic and while many of them felt sorry for him, none would try to protect him.
If he thought he could run, he would have, but the few members of the Zabini
clan that were left had decided that it was best to try just to be neutral,
possibly slightly leaning towards the Dark Lord to show where they wanted to
be. They didn’t want to sacrifice him, but he was prepared if it came to that.
He would accept that to save the rest of his family, but he was hopeful that he
might be able to slink by on this one. After all, he hadn’t actually done
anything. This time it was Millicent who had done things. He had absolutely no
intention of getting involved in any further plans of the Malfoy clan.
       Draco knew when it was time to cut his losses. Millicent and Blaise were
lost to him. The rest of his House may not yet be lost to him, but he had to
end the argument here while it was focused on those two. Most people didn’t
know exactly what they had done, but they knew they had helped him in some way
and now they were against him... Well maybe not against him, but at least not
with him. That was okay, so long as the others would still consider following
him.
===
       Amelia Bones, the head of the DMLE, glanced at her muggle clock as she
leaned back in her chair after pouring herself a very large glass of fire
whiskey. 01:30 am was not a time she liked to be in her office, but today was
just one of those days. One when she wondered why she just didn’t pack up and
take Susan and herself to Australia.
       It had started off all fairly routinely. A few extra patrols assigned to
Kings Cross for the start of the Hogwarts year then of course a few more
patrols through Diagon and Knockturn Alleys so that all those parents who
usually took the day off and went shopping weren’t interrupted by problems, or
weren’t causing problems themselves. Yet it had all been surprisingly quiet. It
had been how it was meant to be, no disruptions, a few rowdy citizens, but
nothing that wasn’t handled quickly and efficiently. There were no attacks.
Even the Aurors who were discretely trailing Narcissa Malfoy reported that the
woman merely stopped off at the Apothecary to buy a few standard supplies and
then apparated back to Malfoy Manor which was still in the hands of the Malfoys
because without Lucius’ person no charges could be laid, no matter how much
evidence they had.
       All in all, the morning was perfectly normal and quiet.
       Then, as the muggles would say, the shit hit the fan.
       They got multiple reports of an attack on the Hogwarts Express. Reports
came from The Order, the Conductor, some of the seventh year students
apparently kept their heads well enough to send out a distress call, and then
of course there was the Death Eater who, calm as you please, apparated into the
Atrium of the Ministry in full regalia, complete with blood red mask, who
announced that they were attacking the Express now and wished the Aurors the
best of luck, before they vanished.
       It was one thing to be told that there was an attack happening on the
Express; it was quite another thing to be able to deal with it. Amelia was
proud of how fast her Auror teams assembled, robed and ready for battle, but
then a problem arose that no one had anticipated.
       They simply did not know where the Express was. Oh, they knew it was on
the way to Hogwarts but there was 800 to 900 kilometres of train track that it
could be on. Even accounting for the fact that it wasn’t in London and wasn’t
close to Hogsmeade, that still left a daunting amount of track to search. And
every second wasted was another that the Dark Forces were attacking unopposed.
She’d been able to feel the panic in the Ministry rising with every moment that
passed as they considered the problem. Eventually they’d narrowed down where
the Express was and while all Aurors could apparate to co-ordinates, in battle
situations that was not considered safe. Regulation permitted co-ordinate
apparition only when a base of operations was secured. That definitely did not
apply to this situation. And that meant that they wasted more time in creating
port keys for the strike teams.
       They’d arrived in time to see the last of the robed Death Eaters
apparate out, leaving them to deal with the utter devastation and screaming
children that was the Express. It was at that point that Amelia simply knew
that the Dark Lord had already known that they would have troubles finding the
Express and sheer arrogance of sending a messenger became all too painfully
clear. The Prophet would have a field day. They’d been out manoeuvred again.
       The scene that greeted them was grim. There was debris everywhere and
the first four carriages were lying on their sides, all of them bearing some
damage, but the first two looked like they had been opened like sardine cans.
She’d snapped a few orders, calling for anti-muggle wards to be erected
immediately before she had directed each team to a carriage to assess the
situation. The locomotive itself was also derailed, and was an impossible
distance from the tracks. Amelia deliberately turned her thoughts away from the
power that had been applied to seemingly hurl the 100 tonne engine 80-odd
metres.
       It had taken them hours to determine that with the exception of one
unfortunate student, who had been apparated directly to St Mungos, that all the
students were present and accounted for and that no one was suffering from
injuries that were too bad. There were cuts and abrasions from falls when the
Express had stopped and there was shock and fear from the attack itself, but
physically all the students were fine. None were dead, none had been held under
the cruciatus, none had been bitten by a werewolf and none had had any other
nasty hex applied. Even the student who was injured had not been directly hurt,
rather they had been hit by debris when the carriage they were trapped in had
been ‘opened’.
       It had then taken them a while to sort out alternate transport
arrangements, arrangements that were hindered by practically everyone in the
Ministry having to come to look at the damage. Eventually she’d just set up a
cordon and proclaimed that anyone not authorised by an Auror who was within the
cordon would be held for questioning. That had gotten her a lot of grumbles and
she had already put a redirect charm up for the owls that would no doubt
already be bearing down upon her from both disgruntled Ministry employees who
frankly had no business being present and from parents who had wanted to be
sure that their babies were safe. The cordon had at least allowed the Aurors to
do their job to sort out the situation. Those students who were licensed to
apparate were checked off and given permission to apparate to Hogsmeade
directly, taking with them anyone or any luggage they could. Other students
were gathered up into groups, and the Hogwarts House Elves were called upon to
provide transportation. The first years were evacuated first and they went in
year groups until all the students were safely in Hogwarts.
       By the time the last student left, it was dark and they’d positioned
guards on the Express along with some wards and hexes to repel any curious
wizard before most of the Aurors had apparated back to the Ministry to write up
initial reports. They would be back the next day to properly look over the
wreckage as their first priority had been to ensure that all the children were
accounted for. The initial picture though was pretty obvious and the reports
from the students confirmed the chain of events. The Dark Lord was playing.
       That was the conclusion she drew from the evidence. Despite the property
damage the lack of deaths supported no other conclusion.
       You-Know-Who had stood on the tracks and had simply banished the
locomotive, uncoupling it from the rest of the Express with the charm. Then
Death Eaters and a few non-human supporters had assaulted from the front,
converging on the first carriage and very slowly working their way down towards
the second, third and fourth carriages before they had either apparated or
portkeyed out. They had encountered no major resistance though some of the
students had banded together to fight and it appeared that Mr. Potter and his
friends had tried to help evacuate as many students as they could towards the
rear of the train and had stabilised the one significant injury. Mr. Malfoy
though had tried a more glamorous path and had, according to reports, fought
the Dark Lord.
       The fact he was still alive supported her conclusions that the Dark Lord
was merely playing. There was no way he would have kept the son of a traitor
alive if he was not trying to make another statement. The papers and the rest
of the Ministry would miss that statement though. Amelia had no doubt of that.
Or rather they would see it, but instead would focus on other trivial issues,
proclaiming the Death Eaters weak because they had not killed, proclaiming that
Mr. Malfoy could fight You-Know-Who or something like that. She didn’t really
want to know because it was now her job to deal with the true message.
       The Dark Forces could strike when they wanted, where they wanted and do
whatever damage they wanted. They had not killed,this time, because they had
not wanted to. This attack was not about fear, was not about anything except
showing that the Ministry was still woefully inadequate. The strike itself was
set up merely to show that. Why else would the Death Eaters only attack from
the front when it made much more sense to have the strike the entire length of
the train? In the amount of time it had taken the Aurors to respond, they could
have either killed or kidnapped most of the students if that’s what they wanted
to do.
       Oh there would have been some still fighting. Dumbledore had been giving
hints about Mr. Potter’s abilities all summer, but most of the students would
have been dead if that’s what You-Know-Who wanted. And that message would be
lost to most. One of the few good things she could see from this battle was
that apparently the Dementors were still loyal to the Ministry. She’d been
trying to sure them up this summer since they were an obvious recruit for the
Dark Lord and while Amelia was positive there were at least some Dementors in
his forces, they had apparently been absent today, the same with werewolves,
though it had not been a full moon, so it was possible some were present but in
human form. At least that would lend some weight to the calls for equality for
the werewolves. What vampires had been present were there with the Order and
had discretely removed themselves as soon as they could. They had been
protected from the sun, but obviously had been ill at ease.
       The Ministry was coming together, slowly. The death of Fudge had helped
them, much as You-Know-Who had wished, but they needed more time. They just
didn’t yet have the numbers or the means to communicate fast enough. They
should have known where the Express was. They should have been able to move
faster. Yet they hadn’t and they couldn’t. They were getting better. They just
weren’t getting better fast enough.
       Amelia was loath to admit it but they would need any and all help they
could, even from the Order, an organisation she was not meant to admit existed.
From the Vampires, a group of beings they usually hunted, from werewolves, if
they could be persuaded to come to the Ministry after that fiasco with that
Death Eater, from the Veela, from the goblins, from anyone. They were offering
treaties and the impact from those treaties would be long term but they weren’t
fast enough. They needed an ace, someone to rally the troops, someone who could
be used to rally the general populace, to show them that this war was not
something they could stand back from. She knew who that had to be, but she did
not want to go that path. It was not fair.
       “Sturges!” Amelia called, knowing that the Auror Captain would still be
present. “Ma’am!” The man appeared shortly. He was weary but still snapped to
attention and had answered her call promptly. He was one of her better Captains
for a reason.
       “How are we going on the Potter situation?”
       Sturges seemed surprised for a moment before he covered himself.
“According to Dumbledore, he’s ready to fight. The problem is trying to fit him
into the existing structures. We can’t have a lone fighter and we can’t give
the ‘Order’ that much official autonomy.”
       Amelia nodded. That agreed with what she was thinking even if Sturges
reasoning was not quite as personal as hers. She didn’t want to give Dumbledore
that much power. He had enough already. “Do you have any solutions?”
       The Auror Captain looked a bit uncomfortable. “I have one but I’m not
entirely happy with it.”
       She gestured for him to continue.
       “We can offer Mr. Potter an Auror Apprenticeship with Mr. Black re-
instated as one of his mentors. That would give us the authority over him in
battle but also allow some more freedom in how, where and when he can be
deployed.”
       Amelia nodded again. It was a viable option. “Can we combine it with
someone to have him earn a Mastery?”
       “Probably,” Sturges replied, feeling somewhat grateful that his boss
hadn’t completely shot down the idea. It really was the only one that was
viable. They would have spoken further but for the alarm that began blaring.
       “Azkaban!” Amelia shrieked in an uncharacteristic display of temper.
       Sturges didn’t blame her. 02:00 am was not a good time for an alert to
come through. Not today. Not from Azkaban.
       “Get everything together!” Amelia ordered, rising, her anxiety burning
off the effects of the fire whiskey. She brandished her wand in one hand,
sending her patronus off with messages as she pulled her battle robes on,
striding from the office as other Aurors gathered themselves.
       She hoped this would be a false alarm but she knew it wasn’t.
       Azkaban.
       It really was one of those days.
***** Azkaban *****
Weapon
Chapter 21 Azkaban
===
       It was not a desirable job. It was not a glamorous job. It was not even
a particularly respected job, despite the inherent dangers and the list of
above average skills required to do the job. Prison guard of Azkaban was
however, one of the best paid jobs in the Ministry. Full Auror Captain wages,
plus hazard pay and no discrimination against Muggleborn or mudblood
candidates.
       That's why Everett had signed up for it. He'd graduated Hogwarts three
years back, with decent N.E.W.T.s, full of dreams and plans and schemes only to
find that as a Muggleborn wizard his job prospects were rather low. Time and
time again he'd seen fullbloods, he refused to call them purebloods, get
positions ahead of him even when their results were abysmal, even when their
results didn't met the requirements for the job, just because they had
connections, just because their family was related, usually to a shockingly
close degree, to someone who was the Head of this or that Department. Despite
that, he'd persisted, getting piecemeal jobs to survive on before this one had
come up and it seemed like the answer to his prayers.
       Sure the job was unpleasant, cold, and had long hours but he figured it
was like some Muggle jobs, mining for example. You did them for a few years
then, once you'd earned enough money, you were set up for life and could go
back to a more usual job. And that was his plan. He'd already been on the job
for almost two years and Everett figured he'd do this for another six to seven
years. That would give him a very respectable amount of capital to invest both
in the Muggle and wizarding worlds. Every night he checked both sets of papers,
looking at stock prices and he had already picked out a few up and coming
companies and was investing in them. The returns were slow but they were
coming, even with the prospect of war for the wizards and with another six
years he would be set up far beyond other Muggleborns of his year group. In
another 20 to 30 years' time he'd be set up in the wizarding world and his name
would be respected, maybe respected enough to marry into one of those fullblood
houses. After all, they needed fresh blood and some of them were slowly coming
to realise this.
       There were a few conditions that granted you respect if you were a
Muggleborn, enough that the fullbloods could deceive themselves into thinking
that things were equal even when the situation was far from it. If you had
money, you got respect. If you had some sort of ability, like the ability to
play Quidditch at a professional level, then you got respect. Raw power didn't
matter, unless you were prepared to use it to carve out respect, but that was a
path few were prepared to take. Blood purity mattered on a selective basis, it
seemed, but it mattered enough that most of his year group, those who were
Muggleborn anyway, had all considered going back to the Muggle world since the
prejudices were less there. Everett hadn't though. He'd figured out how he
could succeed. He'd figured out how he could gain that respect and a place in
the wizarding world. And he would succeed and he would gain respect and
position and that would set up his children to have it much easier than he had.
       Everett was debating to himself the merits of investing in Firebolt's or
going with a more stable blue chip Muggle stock when he began his rounds. His
mind continued to examine the possibilities, spending his future pay cheques as
he walked down the corridors of the prison. The Dementors had been good lately
and the older wardens said that was normal for summer. The extra light and the
extra heat of the season made them sluggish and they had been doing their
duties without complaint for the last few months. Even with the excitement of
the Dark Lord's attack on the Ministry, the Dementors hadn't even become
restive. Everett had seen the dispatches from the D.M.L.E. about that, wanting
to know anything that may be unusual with the Dementors, but there was simply
nothing to report. They still made the prison freezing, but they'd been obeying
the Ministry mandates to the letter. Maybe in winter they would have more
issues. At least that's what the head warden had muttered one night while he
had replied to the D.M.L.E.'s boss repeating his previous reports that nothing
was wrong.
       And so it was, when there was an icy breeze that blew across his neck,
Everett merely hitched his robes higher, settling them around him more
securely, reinforced his occulumency shields and continued to patrol, oblivious
to the Dementor that was following him, and oblivious to the fact that with
each new corridor he patrolled, another Dementor joined the pack that was
trailing him. The only warning Everett had that something was very wrong, was
the twinge on his occulumency shields, and a glimpse of ice racing along the
walls ahead of him towards the wardens' control room as the Dementors streamed
around him pouring into the one area they were not allowed. He couldn't shout
and it was only a moment before he was lifted up and spun around and brought
face to face with the underside of a Dementor's tattered hood. The last thing
he saw was the face of a Dementor, its proboscis-like tongue extended and
Everett's last thought was yes, it was completely true; you really did not want
to look upon them.
       Then everything went black.
===
       Azkaban Island was a rocky outcrop that reared out of the North Sea. As
the most feared wizarding prison in the world, it was naturally unplottable and
untraceable. It had Muggle repelling charms anchored to buoys in a one
kilometre radius around it ensuring that it was never spotted, even vaguely, by
Muggle shipping. More repelling charms were located on the island itself,
though recently some bribes, and confundus charms had been required to keep its
position hidden from Muggle gas and oil prospectors, but that was all in a
day's work for the Ministry. Its ward stones were sunk into the ocean floor
around the island and the secondary ward stones were on the island itself. If
on a scale of one to ten, the Ministry offices were graded as a two, the
Unspeakable Offices were graded as a four and Hogwarts as a five on the
protection scale then Azkaban Island rated a ten. It was the most well
protected place in wizarding Briton. As well is should be, given that it was
designed to contain only the most vicious, the most clever and cunning
criminals. Those who wanted nothing more than to escape and wreak havoc on the
innocent witches and wizards of Briton.
       In the centuries it had operated, only one person had ever successfully
escaped. Centuries ago, three others had made it to the water, but their bodies
had washed ashore a few days later, the corpse's faces' frozen as it was the
elements which had claimed them. Others occasionally slipped out of their cells
but the Dementors were not known for their lenience.
       When the island itself had formed it was almost solid rock but as time
progressed, it had been painstakingly hollowed out to the point where it was
now almost completely hollow. The work had been done by hand so there was no
magic residue that could be utilised by anyone. The outer shell had been kept
at a minimum of ten metres thick, though near the very peak of the island this
had been reduced for the comfort of the Wardens' Quarters. The waves never
stopped pounding the rock and the wind never stopped howling.
       The island prison was surmounted by the watch tower and the control
room. That was the place where the wardens monitored the prison and was on the
highest point of the island. Below it were the Wardens' Quarters. They spent
fourteen days on the island, then seven days off, on a rotation. They had a
small open courtyard on that level. It was really nothing more than a flattened
area where they could grow a few meagre plants and enjoy the wan sun when it
was available. The floor of the Wardens' level had a few special wards that
suppressed the chill of Dementors so their level was surprisingly warm.
Occulmency wards were also embedded into the floor, though these were limited
to the sleeping areas. Under no circumstances were Dementors allowed on this
level and there were failsafe proximity alarms that linked back to the Ministry
to ensure that the Dementors did not wander. On the level below the Wardens'
Quarters were holding cells as well as the area for short term prisoners. While
these cells were as far away from the Dementors as possible, the pervasive
chill made any stay unpleasant. You could sense the Dementors on this level,
but you could not truly feel their effects. Technically the Dementors weren't
allowed on this level. but there was nothing to stop them and they occasionally
were known to glide through the hallways here. Beneath this level was the area
for the medium term prisoners and the processing facility for all prisoners.
The only entrance to the prison was on this level, but it was blocked by a
large iron gate that was sealed from the inside. Everyone passed through this
area and Dementors were only allowed in this area to greet and escort prisoners
into the long term facility. There were two more floors below this area. The
level below belonged to the Dementors. It was on this level there was a plain
stone slab which those wizarding criminals who were sentenced to the Dementor's
Kiss were shackled and left and there was a largish room cloaked in darkness
where the Dementors usually hovered. Below the Dementors' floor was the final
level. It was partially submerged below sea level and it was here that the long
term and life sentence prisoners were housed. The Dementors had free range
here, though they may not enter any cell. It was here that those convicted of
bearing the Dark Mark, those who were convicted of willingly supporting the
Dark Lord were imprisoned. This level was perpetually cold and damp and most of
the prisoners were insane.
       There was a small, slightly protected beach that allowed the prison
dinghy to unload passengers and to take the Wardens off island on their days
off. The dinghy ran once a week and all supplies were bought in on it. Only
four people could authorise any extra operation of the dinghy; the Minister,
the Heads of the D.M.L.E. and Unspeakables, and the Supreme Wugwump and in the
last decade, only Fudge had ever used that power. Any other boat approaching
the island would cause alarms both in the Ministry and the prison and the boat
would find itself tracked and if heading towards Azkaban there would be a
welcoming party of Dementors for it. If it crossed the ward lines and made
landfall elsewhere, then the Aurors usually accompanied by some combat
Unspeakables would be greeting it. The dinghy docked itself on the mainland
when not in use.
       In short there was meant to be no way on or off that island that was not
monitored. The Dementors were controlled. And even if there was a prison
revolt, one where the prisoners and Dementors worked together, they would be
trapped on the island and the Wardens would simply fort up in their Quarters
and contact the Ministry for back up.
       Unfortunately for the Ministry, while Azkaban was well protected from
assault from within and relatively protected from assault from without, it was
not protected from a combination of the two. After all, who would want to rely
upon inside help from a prison that drove its inhabitants insane? Who would
want to break into the prison?
       The Dark Lord Voldemort did.
       And the Dark Lord Voldemort had.
       It had been a relatively simple operation, though it would have been
more complex if the Dementors were not on his side. On the mainland a quick
assault at the dock and an Avada Kedevra had dealt with the ferryman and the
dark forces had gained access to the official Azkaban dinghy. The Serpent Lord,
Kisha, and a team of ten or so Death Eaters had boarded the craft which was
then magically propelled across the waters to the island. As it was the Azkaban
dinghy its presence sent up no alarms. As they came into visual range of
Azkaban Island, the watch warden personally discovered that while Dementors
could not travel over water, they could climb the almost sheer cliff faces that
made up the walls of the prison. Two grabbed him, holding him steady while a
third administered the dreaded Kiss.
       At about the same time, in the lower levels, the Dementors assaulted
Everett, Kissing the Muggleborn wizard before they glided up a level to the
Gate and opened it for the Dark Lord's forces. Kisha and Death Eaters
accompanied the Dementors up to the holding cell level, helping to clear the
wardens from that level, and then Kisha and the Death Eaters went further,
entering the Wardens' Quarters level to stun the Wardens. They paused before
the Control Room waiting for the signal.
       Outside Voldemort wielded his holly and phoenix feather wand,
transfiguring the sheer rock face into a path. It was pure brute force work and
only possible because he had so much power available to him. The lack of any
magic in the rock worked against him but he was not a wizard to be thwarted and
had soon carved out narrow path leading upwards to the open courtyard. He could
have blasted a path with any number of charms including some ridiculously over
powered mining charms, but they made noise, so transfiguration it was. The path
would last for about a day, which was more than long enough for his purposes.
While the Dementors could access that area themselves by scaling the cliffs,
neither the Dark Lord nor his Death Eaters were adept at climbing such sheer
rock faces. The tiny track the Dark Lord transfigured was enough, and he met
Kisha in the court yard. The Death Eaters followed a bit more slowly, bringing
the stunned Wardens up to the court yard. A quick glance told him that the area
was not warded against Dementors and he signalled his allies and several flowed
down from the watch tower.
       Now came the tricky part, accessing and subduing the Wardens in the
Control Room without them getting a warning off to the Ministry. There would be
two or three Wardens there, probably lazing around since they were not
expecting an assault, but if even one of them got off the alarm then it would
change things. The Dark Forces could hold long enough but it would be so much
better for impact if they could do this without an alert.
       "I'll do it," Kisha volunteered, "just get a Dementor to show up around
their window as a distraction." The elder vampire grinned before she slid back
into the Wardens' area, heading towards the control room. Voldemort gestured
towards a Dementor who seemed to nod and flowed up the cliffs towards the
control room.
       The Dementor hovered there and after a moment there came a flash from
the window and a stunning charm was hurled towards the dark creature. The
Dementor hissed but was otherwise unaffected. And before the alarms could sound
there were follow up flashes from the control room.
       A moment later, Kisha appeared in the window. She smiled, looking down
on the Dark Lord and nodded slightly to indicate that the Wardens were
contained.
       Voldemort looked up to the sky. Night was just beginning to fall
properly and what he had planned now would take a few hours. "Make sure those
wardens are secure where they are, then start bringing the prisoners out," he
instructed his now gathered Death Eaters.
       The Death Eaters nodded and filed back into the prison to return with
their incarcerated fellows and all the other prisoners. The Dementors were
grouping together in the courtyard, some hovering in the air above them. There
were far more than Voldemort had thought and as the chill air they exuded
washed over him, he suppressed a smile. While more meant he would have to
provide more food, more meant he had more power; he had more soldiers. He
looked up at them, but before he could gesture for one to come and speak to
him, one broke away from the hovering pack and came towards him.
       "Dark Lord," the Dementor hissed.
       "Yes?" Voldemort answered. Most of the logistics of their allegiance had
been worked out with those few who were at his stronghold. He had expected the
need to qualify a few of the final points with those who were in Azkaban.
       "Our brethren have negotiated well," the Dementor said, "but we wish
surety."
       "Surety about what?"
       "The Dark Lord," the Dementor said as if that explained everything.
       Voldemort showed no expression as he considered the creature's words.
The Dark Lord. That was him...
       Wait no... The Dark Lord. That referred to only one being. "The Shadow
Lord?" Voldemort said softly, his tone one of fondness.
       "Yes, the Dark Lord."
       "What about the Shadow Lord?"
       "You do not fight against him?"
       Voldemort smiled as he understood. In another life he would have been
raging at their presumption, now he just thought it quaint, even if completely
archaic, the maintenance of loyalty to an almost mythical being. They were
creatures of dark, and like all creatures of dark they tended to obey the Dark
Lord of the day. Unlike other dark creatures though, it appeared they
maintained an abiding loyalty to master of dark, to the master of the shadows,
to the being who could be called the Dark Lord, or conversely the Lord of
Light. They would serve him but they would not fight Harry. It was a good thing
that his beloved would most likely never order the Dementors against him in
battle. Having their prior loyalties exposed to the Ministry would be
embarrassing.
       "I do not fight him, I will not fight him, and he will stand beside me
to rule for all time," Voldemort said.
       The Dementor considered this before it nodded and there seemed to be a
flicker of shadow. "We will assist with the prisoners," it said and there was a
streaming as the Dementors flowed down into the prison towards the holding cell
level. A few broke away, pausing to Kiss the stunned Wardens who had been
gathered by the Death Eaters and brought up. Their soulless bodies were stacked
together carefully so as not to suffocate any. Voldemort hadn't questioned the
request. It was somewhat trivial, but if it made them happy then so be it. The
Dementors would naturally be getting any of those prisoners who didn't see
things the Dark Lord's way, but they also wanted all the soulless bodies
brought out of Azkaban. He had already set aside an area in his strong hold for
them and the bodies would be portkeyed out with the rest of them.
       Voldemort smiled as Kisha returned to him and he gestured towards a
chair he had conjured for her. He had quite a bit of work to do yet but was
glad that he could confer with the Dementors while the vampire was out of
hearing. There were a few things she did not need to know and while she knew he
had an agreement with the Shadows, she was with him to find out exactly how
deep that agreement was. It did not suit him to let her know that his agreement
was with the Shadow Lord himself. She would run once she learnt that, back to
her childe and back to his mate. He did not need Harry revealed early.
       The Dementors returned quickly as they had far less distance to
traverse. They were herding the inhabitants of the holding cell and the short
term prisoners before them. There was a general feeling of disbelief and some
even whispered prayers. Voldemort played up the scene though there would never
be any witnesses, inclining his head and levelling his gaze upon them from
where he sat, his red robes draped regally around him.
       "You have a choice to make now," he said to the assembled prisoners,
none of whom were his followers. Mostly these were just petty time servers.
They hadn't done anything that bad and were probably in for a week or so for
multiple offences. These were the wizards who didn't go home after being just
that bit too drunk and things like that. Still there may be some with a talent
he could use. If nothing else, if they agreed with him, they would be in his
strong hold and beholden to him. If they later turned, well they could be fed
to the Dementors then.
       "A choice?" One of them questioned looking around. The situation was
very clear. Most of the Dementors had turned back into Azkaban, intent on
retrieving the medium term prisoners but a few had stayed, several were behind
the seated couple while others hovered in mid air and two remained beside the
bodies of the Wardens, guarding what the Dementors thought of as rightfully
theirs. The fact that there were no alarms blaring told the prisoners exactly
what was happening.
       "Do you follow me, or do I give you to my allies?"
       For a moment the gathered prisoners looked confused, then insulted.
       Voldemort chuckled. "Did you think this war would not involve you? Did
you think you could sit around and pretend that nothing was happening?" He
seemed friendly enough, but most of the prisoners knew that he was a Dark Lord
and that he could appear to be friendly even as he reached out with the knife
to cut your throat. "This is the problem with the wizards. You all think that
it does not involve you. Well, the rest of your pathetic society will face this
choice in due course but for you, the choice comes now. Where will you stand,
what do you believe in?" Voldemort's red eyes smouldered as he looked over the
prisoners.
       Most of the prisoners looked confused. A few looked down, their faces
thoughtful as they seriously considered the Dark Lord's question.
       "Think about it," Voldemort said, gesturing as the first of the Death
Eaters returned, escorting one of their fellows. They had been instructed to
bring the captured Death Eaters before him, one at a time. Each of the Death
Eater prisoners would have to answer one question. Failure to answer correctly
and they would be discharged from his service. They would be remembered but
they would not adapt to the reality of this war.
       The Dementors settled around the prisoners who were considering their
futures and Travers was brought before his lord.
       "My Lord!" Travers was surprised but he managed to bow low.
       "Travers," Voldemort greeted.
       "I knew you could not be dead, my Lord."
       "For a time perhaps," the serpentine man said softly.
       "I live to serve, my Lord," Travers said finally, bowing his head.
       "Then you live well," Voldemort said. "But for now, one question
Travers. I forgive you for being captured, answer this and you will return to
my service with full honour."
       "My Lord?"
       "Which is more important, power or blood?"
       Travers blinked, confused. His lord was as regal as ever and he could
feel the power radiating off the Dark Lord. This was his Lord, despite the
physical changes and the Dark Mark on his arm was currently jet black. The
Death Eater who had freed him from his cell and then escorted him, aiding him
as necessary up the levels of Azkaban had been silent but Travers knew he was
amongst friends again and he had relaxed. His master had returned to full power
and soon the Ministry would be bowing before them all. Now his Master was
asking such an odd question. Blood or power? Both were important. Without blood
there was no power but without power blood was useless. Squibs had the blood
but no power.
       Travers frowned as he considered the question. This was definitely
something that he had to get right or his Master would kill him. He knew that.
"I would usually say blood Master and while that is important, power is more
important." Travers finally answered softly, thinking of the never mentioned
squib cousin he supposedly had. The squib had the blood of his family, that had
been confirmed most carefully but they were useless without the power of magic.
Most families either banished or hid such embarrassments but Travers had
witnessed the right that had removed the squib from his family. Not even the
most complex or powerful inheritance charms would be able to detect the squib.
It was as if they never existed though Travers could still remember the squib
pleading and crying and the blood. There had been so very much blood as each of
the incisions had been made. It didn't matter though, that blood was useless
without the power. Travers had been just out of school when the rite had been
suggested to him by the man who would become his Master. His family had been
shocked but ultimately had been very pleased when it worked exactly as they had
been advised that it would. And then his family had given their backing to his
joining the Death Eaters. Blood was important, but blood without power... That
was the answer his Master had always known.
       Voldemort nodded. "Very good Travers. Come, you may greet me."
       Travers came forward and knelt at his Lord's feet, reaching over to kiss
the hem of his Lord's sleeve. As Travers rose, the Dark Lord reached forward
slowly and gave his servant a small bead. Portkeys would not get you to Azkaban
but they could get you off the island through the wards. After all, the wards
blocked incoming traffic and all visitors were scanned to ensure that they had
no port keys since they had a distinctive magical signature and Voldemort had
not brought any portkeys with him. He had instead brought a collection of small
beads and he was perfectly capable of making them into portkeys. Most wizards
could make a portkey or three a day, only those of his level of power could
create more.
       Travers disappeared as the bead transported him to the Dark Lord's
strong hold where other Death Eaters, those experienced in healing waited to
treat their newly freed brethren.
       "One sensible one," Kisha murmured and the Serpent Lord nodded as
another of his servants was brought before him.
       "And many more to question," Voldemort replied as he turned his gaze
towards Scabior.
===
       The Dark Lord stirred quietly, looking up at the stars. Anyone
experienced in watching him would see the small signs of fatigue. Nothing
major, just tiredness, and he was honest enough to admit to himself that he was
somewhat drained. He had performed a lot of magic. The banishing of the
Hogwarts Express's locomotive may have looked easy, but it had required almost
his full power and he had created far, far more than the advised number of port
keys today. Combined with the magical expenditure was the lateness of the hour.
Even so, it had been a fulfilling day and was nearly over. The Death Eaters
were bringing up the last lot of prisoners. He performed a Tempus charm without
thought and knew that it was 01:43am. He'd been on Azkaban for approximately
five hours with no one the wiser and Voldemort allowed himself a small smile at
that knowledge. His task here was time consuming, but necessary.
       There had been forty-three Death Eaters incarcerated here in the long
term section of the prison. The last three of that number were being brought
out now. He would ask them the same question he had asked the others and once
finished, then... he was leaning towards bringing down the anti-apparation
ward, triggering the alarms and apparating out after letting the Ministry see
him. On the other hand, leaving the island and wards intact but completely
vacant of every living inhabitant also had a large appeal.
       It had been a profitable evening. Even if the Ministry was to appear
right now it would still be profitable, though not a complete success. Each of
his marked followers had been asked the same question, and each had been
required to answer. A few had tried to evade the question by assuring him that
they would follow wherever he lead but that answer was pure sycophancy and
while pleasing, was useless to him. All his Death Eaters were required to
answer and it had taken some longer to reply than others. The Dark Lord didn't
mind that. On this question his followers had to be sure. So far only nine had
answered incorrectly and even then it was really only four who were completely
wrong. They had of course been given to the Dementors who had happily removed
their souls from their emaciated bodies.
       Of the nine, two had been unable to answer. They had been completely
comatose from their captivity and three had been completely insane. It was a
widely held belief amongst wizards that Dementors drove the prisoners insane
and that long term exposure caused victims to become comatose. This was wrong.
The Dementors did not drive people into a coma, nor did they attempt to drive
any of the prisoners insane. After all a comatose prisoner, while powerless to
prevent a Dementors Kiss was one that did not provide them any food, no
memories for them to eat, and they were only allowed to Kiss those who were
sentenced to that. It was similar to an insane prisoner. The insane and
comatose were not useful to the Dementors so they tried to ensure that the
prisoners did not fall into either state. It is however a truth of the human
psyche that continually having all your light and happy memories removed and
reliving your worst memories almost constantly did drive some witches and
wizards insane and did cause some to become comatose. It was a defence
mechanism of the psyche to try to protect what memories it had left. Of course
for those released from constant contact with Dementors, the fact that they
were completely missing memories and the memories they were left with, did tend
to make them rather surly. That was why most of the wizarding community thought
the state was caused by the Dementors. They contributed, but they were not the
sole cause. The real cause of the greatly shortened life expectancy of a
prisoner of Azkaban was the prevalent cold, another feature of the prison that
was merely enhanced by the Dementors, the lack of sunlight and the substandard
food. All the factors combined to cause the conditions, but as it was easier to
blame the Dementors solely rather than admit some responsibility for the
centuries of suffering of admittedly some very bad people; the wizarding
community blamed the Dementors for everything.
       Thirty one Death Eaters were now recovering at his stronghold and
Voldemort allowed himself another small smile. The names alone would drive fear
into the wizarding sheep. Foremost was his dear but newly widowed Bellatrix
LeStrange. She had seen the bodies of her husband and brother-in-law and had
merely shrugged, her face locked into an expression of rapture at his presence.
She had also answered his question in less than a second. Introducing her to
his mate promised to be... interesting. The others, while not as well-known
would also serve their purpose. Even those who he had given to the Dementors
would serve since without a body, the wizarding sheep would assume they were
running free.
       Most of the Dementors had been portkeyed back to his stronghold with
their trophies. They had specifically requested that every soulless body be
given to them and transported to an area of the Dark Lord's stronghold that he
had put aside for them. It was part of the cost of their service and their
price of victims had been paid in triplicate. Most of the short term prisoners
had seen the situation and had agreed to serve him. Voldemort already knew that
at least some of them would be seeking means of escape once they reached his
stronghold. All that meant to him was that he would feed them to the Dementors
later. The short term prisoners would not be marked. They had some skills he
could use but for the most part, their temperaments would not allow them to
take his Mark. A few though had decided to make martyrs, and had been given to
the Dementors. He really didn't understand their mentality. They couldn't
honestly have thought that he would let them go? Wouldn't it have been better
to show a little Slytherin-like cunning and live another day? It mattered not,
they were no longer an issue and their bodies, along with the soulless bodies
of the earlier gathered Wardens were amongst the first to be portkeyed out.
       Once all the short term prisoners had made their choice the medium term
prisoners were brought out in a batch and had been given the same choice.
Voldemort smirked. At least some of them had had some courage. A group of about
twenty had decided to attack. Somehow they had recognised Kisha and objected to
being vampire food. He'd waved off the Dementors and had quickly sent up a
barrier to prevent his Death Eaters from interfering. He was not in any danger
but did not need a stray wand getting into the prisoners hands. Once the area
was secure, he had then given them an education in hand to hand combat. Most of
the medium term prisoners had cowered, trying to put themselves out of harm's
way. Those who fought were not that skilled and had been relying on numbers.
Their condition also worked against them. While not as malnourished as his
imprisoned Death Eaters, they were not in the best physical condition. Even had
they been in peak physical condition the outcome would have been the same. With
ruthless efficiency and brutal blows he'd dropped them all, breaking bones and
knocking the rebels out with a rather casual ease.
       It was over a few minutes after it began and as he had resettled himself
in his conjured chair he had signalled to the Dementors. All the medium term
prisoners were theirs. That had caused his dark allies a moment of confusion
before they had swooped, gleefully consuming the souls and collecting the
bodies. One prisoner had managed to jump from the cliff and the Dementors had
looked mournfully at body as the ocean swept it away. They could not travel
over the ocean. Water interfered with their ability to hover. Most water was
not an issue, puddles and small ponds they could freeze simply enough. Moats
charmed to be unfreezable were not a barrier as some ancient wizards had
discovered in the past. Dementors merely rose high enough and sped over it.
Wide rivers like the Themes now had many helpful Muggle bridges to aid their
crossing. Lakes could be an issue if large enough as they could not get enough
momentum to travel over them, no matter how high they rose before attempting to
glide over them. The sea though was one of the few water bodies they simply
could not cross without help.
       Voldemort had created more portkeys and sent most of the Dementors and
their newly de-souled trophies back to his stronghold before he removed the
barrier that had blocked his Death Eaters to resume questioning their fellows.
The long term prisoners were being brought before him in cell order but they
were not all Death Eaters. It had been a surprise to find vampires here and
Kisha had been incensed. She had portkeyed with the newly freed vampires back
to his stronghold, saying that she was no longer needed and that the vampires
would need her care to recover. He had smiled as she left and had actually
chuckled when a moment after she vanished a large shadow almost seemed to curl
around his chair.
       "I was beginning to miss you," he'd murmured as another long term
prisoner was brought before him.
       The few Dementors who remained at that stage seemed to relax somewhat
when the shadow whispered back. :We are not fond of vampires.:
       "Ah," Voldemort had said but the shadow remained silent after that.
Their discretion was appreciated.
       Of the long term prisoners who were not Death Eaters, most had agreed to
follow him. In the coming days they would receive the Dark Mark and be
integrated into his forces. Some agreed with conditions, but those were
pathetically easy to obtain. They usually wished to kill the one who had caused
them to be sentenced to Azkaban. A few though had agreed only when Voldemort
had impressed upon them the feeling of his magic. They may have been imprisoned
for being fledgling Dark Lords but there was only room for oneDark Lord and
that was him. They would serve him or they would die. It was that simple. There
were a few of the long term prisoners who had chosen death, some were comatose,
others judged themselves simply too old and chose to die rather than be a
burden. These were tough men and women even before they were sentenced to
Azkaban.
       Voldemort brought his attention back to the present as Antonin Dolohov
was brought before him. "Antonin," he greeted the man with an almost fond tone.
       "My Lord," Dolohov replied, bowing his head. "I knew it was only a
matter of time."
       "It always is but time is something that is on my side," the Dark Lord
replied.
       "I am ready to serve," Dolohov said. While he was about sixty and had
been imprisoned for fifteen years, he looked like a man who was much younger.
He was thin but he also moved with a certain ease that did not speak of
imprisonment.
       Voldemort noticed the small things about Dolohov and felt a stirring of
pride. Dolohov was one of his highest ranking Death Eaters for a reason and his
behaviour just proved it now. "Then there is only one thing left to finalise.
While there has always been a spin on our beliefs Antonin, in the end there is
only one thing that is the most important, which is it Antonin; blood or
power?"
       Dolohov chuckled. "My Lord, the spin we have put on the propaganda is
really only for those who need a reason to act but even they couldn't act if
they didn't have power. They convince themselves its blood that they require
but it is power and it always has been power."
       The Serpent Lord nodded and Antonin laughed a little louder. "I take it
you had to educate Lucius personally," he murmured.
       "It's a lesson he's continuing to learn," Voldemort replied. "Though
more teachers are always welcomed," he added holding out a bead.
       Dolohov knelt and took the bead, smiling up at his Lord. "I will admit
to a small worry, my Lord, when I heard that you had been defeated by the
Potter-child but I knew that would not stop you forever." Antonin looked
closely at Voldemort. "In fact, I think it has been for the better. Your power
my Lord, always so strong is now much more focused."
       "That is something we will discuss further later," the Dark Lord said.
       "My Lord!" Dolohov snapped to attention and the port key activated.
       "Bring the next one," Voldemort instructed. "And collect the Wardens in
the control room."
       Three Death Eaters nodded and filed back into Azkaban past their fellows
who were waiting in the wings with the last two prisoners. No matter what
happened now, the Light would know that this day was the beginning of the end.
Azkaban emptied and the Hogwart's Express attacked. They would not soon forget
this and they would tremble, knowing that it was his power that brought it to
be.
       Only Mulciber and Gibbon remained to be questioned. The lower levels of
Azkaban were completely empty and silent. While no one was there, if you
listened hard enough, you could hear the waves. As Mulciber, supported by the
Death Eater who had accompanied the Dark Lord to the prison, was brought before
him, Voldemort took a deep breath of the sea air and decided that when they
were finished here, he would leave the island intact, leave everything how it
was and wait to see how long before the Ministry noticed that they were
completely powerless against him.
       "Mulciber," Voldemort greeted his follower.
       "My Lord," the heavy set man replied, a ghost of a smile gracing his
lips.
       "Those of my followers who have been in Azkaban have proven to be most
pleasing," the Dark Lord said. "They have been shown to be loyal to a fault,
and very strong. You are my true followers for you never forsook me even during
the dark times. You rejoin my forces now with full honours but there is one
thing that needs answering. Power or blood, Mulciber. Both are important of
course, but if you cannot have both, then you must have one. Which?"
       Mulciber frowned. His Lord asked the oddest questions. Blood or power...
Only the purebloods had true power but that wasn't what his Master meant. He
was about to question further but there was an ear piercing scream as alarms
became blaring over the island.
       Voldemort snarled as he came to his feet. So much for leaving a mystery
but now he could go with his initial thoughts. "Get to the dinghy," he gave the
order, making sure those in the Control Room could hear him. "Leave the Wardens
if you have to. The Ministry will be coming in from the Control Room and the
beach, and the wards just went up tighter." He cast his glowing red eyes
around, looking at the magic as he tried to find the Anti-Apparition ward.
"Apparate as soon as you can and take the dinghy with you," he added the
instruction.
       A glance at the Control Room revealed why the alarms had sounded. There
was a numeracy ward on there. The alarm sounded if there was less than three
living beings in the room but also sounded if there was more than five. The
three extra Death Eater's had unknowingly triggered that ward and as it was a
passive ward it did not show up as a threat or to the scans they had done to
detect the ward triggers. There was nothing to be done about it now but to get
off the Island. It would take the Ministry a few minutes to get here, but they
would have the tokens enabling them to apparate through the wards and the
D.M.L.E. would be significantly faster than they were for the Hogwart's
Express. His Death Eaters were moving quickly and already Mulciber and his
escort were starting on the path down to the beach. They had retreated using
the path he had cut into the cliff earlier. The others emerged from the gate
and followed them down quickly.
       Voldemort followed along the track he had cut, still looking for the
anti-apparition ward. Unfortunately isolating one was being difficult. There
were simply so many wards and they interacted with each other in an odd manner,
reinforcing each other obviously but with so many lines of the differing wards,
finding one set was tricky, even for someone who could see those lines and the
differing colours of each ward.
       He heard a shout, far earlier than expected and looked down to his
followers on the beach. From his vantage he had a clear shot at the beach, and
the curve of the cliff hid him from the control room. The Dark Lord snarled and
began sending curses at the newly arrived Aurors. For a moment they didn't know
where the jinxes and curses were coming from but it was long enough for the
Death Eater's to launch the dinghy, magically pushing it far out into the
waves, quickly out of range of most of the Aurors. After a moment the dinghy,
with its passengers of Death Eaters and the comatose bodies of the Wardens
disappeared, leaving the Aurors free to turn their attention to the red robed
Dark Lord high on the cliffs. Voldemort smiled, forcibly transfiguring the rock
into a shield as he continued firing.
       All he needed to do was separate one from the others.
===
       Amelia strode into the outer offices of the D.M.L.E., her fatigue
leaving her as the alarm continued to sound. If it had of been an accident, the
Wardens would have contacted them by now so this was the real deal. Her Auror
teams were gathering but for Azkaban they needed a slight re-organisation.
       "Those who can cast a patronus, up front," she called, reordering the
teams. "Anyone with a 593 in their profile, that's a full sensitivity to
Dementors, thank you for responding so quickly but you will not be required on
this mission. Please alert St. Mungo's and organise those who follow. Anyone
with a 304, that's partial sensitivity to Dementors, come through in the second
wave.
       "This alert is Azkaban and we do not know the full situation. The
Wardens have not given us any further information so we must assume the worst."
       Two teams of Aurors were forming in front of her. These were some of the
best combat Aurors that she had who were capable of performing the patronus. As
she was giving the very limited mission briefing, port keys were being handed
out. They were keyed especially to Azkaban and would pass through the wards
harmlessly, even the fully activated wards.
       "When we arrive, no matter the situation, patronus' are to be cast. I
expect that the Wardens will be behind their wards and that the Dementors will
be attacking. There may be others there. Anything that is not Auror or Warden
is to be considered a threat and taken out with force. Any prisoners that are
out of their cells are to be re-incarcerated immediately and quickly. Don't
worry if they are out of their sections, just throw them in any cell. Team
Griffon, you will Portkey into the Control Room. Assess the situation and send
reports as needed. Team Sphinx, you are with me. We will arrive on the beach
and will gain entry into Azkaban. Ideally we will work our way down to ensure
all the prisoners are secure, but the situation may alter.
       "Teams Ridgeback and Horntail, you will follow two minutes after us to
provide back up. Let's go people!"
       The Aurors gave a ragged cheer and as she joined Team Sphinx, grabbing
her portkey, Amelia felt a stirring of pride. Her forces were obviously tired,
but they had responded far faster than the best scenarios stipulated for an
alert on Azkaban. No matter what they found, she was proud to serve here. As
the portkey activated she shook her head. Morbid thoughts were not what she
needed.
       There was a moment of disorientation after the portkey and she had an
instant of silence before they were under attack. It was so fast that it even
interrupted the casting of the patronus charms but Amelia was happy that she
wasn't the only one who cast Protego. Amelia began looking around, trying to
find the cause of the jinxes that were raining down upon them. She spun around,
trusting the shields to hold as she looked towards the ocean. Cresting the
waves and fast moving out of range was the Azkaban dinghy. There were a few
Dementors at the prow and she could see the red masks of Death Eaters. With a
growl to herself she dismissed them. Right at the moment there was nothing she
could do about them and they were using magic to get out of range. They were
not going to be a part of this battle.
       "There!" One of the Aurors shouted, pointing up the cliff face. Team
Sphinx turned where it was indicated and Amelia was sure she wasn't the only
one who felt their heart clench.
       Up on the cliff, where there was not meant to be a path, there came a
billow of red fabric and Amelia felt her eyes widen and for an instant she was
certain their gazes met, pale green to glowing red. It was only a moment and it
didn't stop the constant hail of curses that the dark wizard was sending
towards them. She had seen him before, briefly, but nothing could really
prepare you for the sheer power that emanated from him. Dumbledore could
project his aura but he mostly kept it contained for the comfort of other
wizards and witches. The Dark Lord felt no such restraint and projected his
aura out powerfully. It was almost suffocating and Amelia knew it would be
affecting her team.
       "This changes nothing!" Amelia shouted, breaking through the despair
that was almost like a fascination. "Alpha Units, keep shields up, betas, you
have one target. Deadly force is authorised!" Her alpha moved to stand at her
side, angling the shields upwards to account for the Dark Lord's superior
height.
       The Dark Lord shifted slightly but his movement was limited. A fact
Amelia was thankful for. That would help them. She began casting, not
particularly caring what she was casting. They had to force him to shield. Then
they could properly attack. She spared a moment to try to send a message to
Team Griffon and Teams Ridgeback and Horntail. If they came in prepared then
even the Dark Lord would fall against them all.
       Forty five seconds had never seemed so long.
       "Rictusempra!"
       "Tarantallegra!"
       "Incarcerous!"
       The curses flew back and forth. Most of them were relatively minor but
anything that got through the shields was effective. Amelia narrowed her eyes
as she took in the Dark Lord's reactions. He was attacking occasionally but he
seemed to be focused on something else. As she kept casting she realised what
he was trying to do. He was focused on the wards. The Death Eaters were out of
range but he needed the anti-apparation ward and portkey wards down for him to
escape. She smiled and cast more charms, keeping the speed up. Anything to
distract him. While it was against her personal policy, it was not against some
of the other Aurors policies and any number of them would have risked an Avada
Kedevra but the Dark Lord was simply out of range to ensure accuracy. As a
curse it was devastatingly effective, but only if it hit but it was also
draining. Her Aurors were experienced enough not to risk magical fatigue this
early into what could be an extended battle.
       "Densaugeo!"
       "Reducto!"
       "Defodio!"
       "Confringo!"
       "Attack the Dark Lord!" Amelia wasn't the only one to scream the
instruction to Team Horntail as they appeared near them.
       "Accio!" Voldemort cast the summoning charm with uncharacteristic force,
levelling his wand at the new team, summoning an unlucky Auror to him.
       "No!" Amelia shouted as the Dark Lord grabbed the hapless Auror out of
the air. A moment later the serpentine man disappeared. "Wingard," she cried,
and she wasn't the only one, to turn their wands towards the now naked Auror
who was tumbling down the cliff. The unfortunate Auror had hit the cliff a few
times but as the magic caught them, at least they would not be swept into the
icy cold waters that surrounded Azkaban.
       "What the hell?" The voice was young. "Accio doesn't work on living
beings."
       "Ah, but it does work on robes," Amelia recognised Sturges voice as he
calmly explained. "And if you are in those robes, then you go with them," he
added, almost with a chuckle. "For now, it does not matter we have a prison to
secure."
       Almost as the words left his mouth, a member of team Griffon appeared on
the path, near where the Dark Lord had been. Wands snapped up, ready to attack
before they relaxed and teams Sphinx and Horntail reformed and started up the
path, dreading what they would find in the prison.
 
 
***** After the Express *****
Weapon
Chapter 22 After the Express
===
       Narcissa awoke with a start, breathing hard. Her heart was pounding and
she felt cold as the sheen of sweat covering her cooled. It made her feel
uncomfortably sticky.
       She'd had another dream. She hadn't had one since she'd shown Draco what
she really was, what he really was, though there had been a sense that things
were working out. While he hadn't yet managed to master his full power, that
was a matter of time. He had been able to manifest his wings but only for short
periods so things were on schedule. She didn't plan for him to take on the Dark
Lord yet, not without her help, but he would have to be powerful enough to take
on the lesser. Powerful enough to recruit the next generation.
       But all of that had nothing to do with her dream. As with her previous
dreams, everything had begun well. Draco had done his job and was gathering
support and some of the Dark Lord's servants had turned against him, spying for
them before the final battle when they'd come to stand with her forces,
swearing allegiance to her son.
       In the final battle, they'd gathered their forces to challenge the Dark
Lord. She'd taken some insurance from her memories of her previous dream and
placed a special charm on herself and her son, a special charm her mother had
taught her. It was something the Dark Lord had asked her about, had asked all
his Death Eater's about, anything that might be used in his quest for
immortality. She'd never mentioned this to him because it was something that
was very specific and unlikely to suit him. It was a charm that protected them,
it ensured that they could only be killed by one of the blood and it only
worked because they were of the blood. That's why she'd never mentioned it to
the Serpent Lord because he was not of the blood.
       The final battle had been long and fierce but that had been expected.
They'd had to fight their way through many waves of dark creatures who had
given their loyalty to the Dark Lord and most had been slaughtered but it had
cost them some of their forces, nothing that was dangerous to their chances,
but it had been annoying and had taken time.
       Draco had risen then, harnessing his full power and had challenged the
Dark Lord and they'd battled, but the Lord's experience had been telling. Her
son's power was great and while he held out against the Dark Lord, the
experience was telling. Though despite the experience, since he was not of the
blood, they were safe. Somehow though the Dark Lord had known about the charm
and he had laughed, pausing in battle to question her son.
       Draco had been confused and she had stepped forward to fight then and
the Dark Lord had laughed again. He'd looked at her, his red eyes calculating
and at the same time disappointed. "You should have come to me, Narcissa. I
would have forgiven almost anything, if you'd have just come to me. Now
though," the Dark Lord's voice was genuinely regretful, "I presume you've cast
the Blood Protection charm on yourself."
       "You can't kill us," she'd said. "You are not of the blood."
       "Actually," Voldemort had smiled in her dream, gathering power in his
hands before he'd flung it at her and Draco. "I am."
       And that was the point she'd woken up, as the power had burned its way
into her, ripping into her body, causing pain something that should not have
been possible in a dream.
       She reached out to take the glass of water that was always beside her
bed and took a sip. The ritual calmed her somewhat as she committed the dream
to memory. Most dreams were just that, dreams, but she knew the value of her
dreams; they were almost always a warning or a confirmation and she had learnt
to take heed. Her previous dream had lead her to cast the Blood Protection
charm and now her dream had changed, warning her that the charm would not be
enough. There had been a change though. In this dream there was no tenshi
present behind the Serpent Lord, so the charm had made some changes.
       This time though the Serpent Lord had indicated he was of the blood. In
the strictest sense, all wizards were of the blood, but countless generations
had diluted their blood until it was a pointless exercise to trace the lineages
back to their tenshi connections because the power of the blood had been bred
out. The only remaining trace to a tenshi was the ability to use magic. But
what the Serpent Lord had done in her dream was something else. He had claimed
to be of the blood and his power, burning into her had reinforced that claim in
more than just a theoretical manner.
       With the tenshi previously in her dream absent did that mean that the
Serpent Lord had taken their power? The Serpent Lord had used various
ceremonies to not only reconstruct his body but also to reinforce and develop
his power. Some of those ceremonies were dependent on blood so if the Serpent
Lord had access to and used a tenshi's blood then that was the only way she
could think of for him to be able to make that claim. Even for one conversant
with the Dark Arts and who had agents always on the lookout for powerful or
useful items, tenshi blood was an impossibility. Her mother had told her once,
if not a thousand times that every tenshi had destroyed all physical traces of
themselves centuries back. Which only left the possibility of a tenshi giving
him blood, but none of them had an interest in the wizarding world and none of
them would help one who could potentially affect the world of magic...
Ollivander had said as much. So there was no way for the Dark Lord to actually
be of the blood, not literally.
       Unless... was the dream was more abstract? It could mean that he was not
of the blood but had the power of one.
       Narcissa blinked as she considered that. She hadn't actually died in her
dream but had instead woken because of the pain so the Blood Protection Charm
may still be working in the dream. After all, she remembered ruefully, the
charm only meant you couldn't be killed, not that you couldn't be tortured or
injured. So the possibility existed that he could match her power and in
matching her power could cause her great pain while never being able to land
the killing blow.
       If that was the case... Narcissa shuddered, considering the years of
torture she knew the Dark Lord would inflict upon her if he could. If that was
the case and he had the power to match her then perhaps she shouldn't let Draco
take the Serpent Lord on. The battle would cement his claim to the title of
Dark Lord and would ensure his followers, but perhaps they would be better
served foregoing the theatrics of taking him down in open combat. Perhaps they
would be better served by removing the Serpent Lord any way they could and
cultivating followers separately.
       The only problem with that was the only way she could see to get close
to the Dark Lord was not an option. If she revealed her true form and was
magnanimously lucky then she might be able to get close enough to the Serpent
Lord to strike him down but that was not a sure thing. While she had no doubt
the knife would penetrate, she wasn't certain that even a heart stroke would be
enough to finish him. And even if it was, it was unlikely to be instantaneous
and he would use the time to gather his power for a final strike. Even assuming
that it all went well, she would be cut down by his loyal Death Eaters before
she could escape because this was one thing where she couldn't just strike and
hope that the reaction was what she wanted. She would have to wait until he was
dead and then to be safe, she would have to destroy the body. The other
alternative that was available with going to him was to fight him, wizard
versus witch. She could stand up to him. Her full power would be enough to
fight equally with him and that would eliminate the need to get physically
close enough to him. But she would be at a disadvantage due to the Death
Eaters. There was no way that the Dark Lord would be arrogant enough to accept
a one to one dual... and even if he was, she wouldn't put it past his loyal
followers to strike at her. Victory, after all, went to the one who won, not to
the one who had honour. So while she might be able to get physically close
enough to fight him in a dual, it wasn't an option.
       And that only left longer range possibilities. Poison was unlikely to
work, even assuming they could get it into either his food or the environment.
He was immune to most and those he wasn't immune to could be purged via a
simple transformation into his animagus form as the purely internal magical
transformation cleansed both blood and organs. She could hire a magical
assassin but the price of that was ruinously high, even if she could find one
that was willing to take a shot at the Dark Lord or willing to die for that
shot and even if the shot was taken, she knew the Dark Lord had insurances
against that. She and her son could even support the Light to help them fight
him but in that path lay their doom. The instant Lucius had begun to move, they
could no longer support the Light, even if they could somehow convince those
forces that they were loyal. No while that path may take out the Dark Lord, it
also meant the end of Draco's chances to rule. Some things could not be
sacrificed.
       Narcissa shook her head. No matter what her dream meant, or what secrets
would come out, both she and Draco needed to be both more powerful and more
skilful. They needed to take advantage of every opportunity and remember that
they were not Gryffindor, they were Slytherin and victory went to those who won
the battle and they would have to use any means necessary to achieve that
victory. She would find a way to give her son that victory... one way or
another.
===
       Harry sat in the Great Hall, nibbling on a piece of toast. He'd always
been accustomed to waking up early and his training over the summer just
reinforced that so he wasn't surprised that the others in the dorm just
slumbered on. He'd actually been comforted by it when he got up and rummaged in
his chest for some clothes. It had only been one night but already the dorm was
back to its usual messy self. He'd missed it - the general companionship and
the noises of others sleeping soundly. He hoped they'd follow him when it was
time to choose, though if he could, he intended to rather selfishly take their
choice away. Ron and Neville would have to consciously side with him, the
others would probably just go with the flow.
       He'd slipped out, letting them sleep and had headed down to the
Quidditch pitch. He needed to do his exercises as well as stretch out his magic
a little and he could do both while flying, though not in his animagus form,
but on his Firebolt. He didn't want the others to know his form this early. It
had been a simple thing to slip past the vampire who was on guard. The shadows
had merely wrapped around him, hiding him from the senses and he'd walked out
carrying his broom and with a happy shout. Once he reached the pitch he'd taken
off, shooting straight up.
       His hair was already messy and the hour and a half of flying and
exercises hadn't done anything great for it, but Harry was at least clean. He'd
had a quick shower at the changing room for the quidditch teams and then had
slipped back into the castle. He had classes today.
       After Voldemort's attack on the Hogwart's Express and the subsequent
chaos, it had eventually been decided that classes today would be only for the
Fifth Years and up, while the Fourth Years and below would have a free day that
was filled with activities. The activities would be fun and were designed to
calm them down, especially the Muggleborn students. The proper Welcoming Feast
and Sorting would be held tonight.
       A few students wandered into the Great Hall, and then there was a burst
of noise as the First Years were lead in by some of the teachers. They would
just scatter around the tables and Harry wondered idly if the first day of
school mixing with their entire year level rather than being split into their
Houses would lead to a different dynamic for them. He hoped so. Some of the
divisions were rather silly.
       Harry jumped slightly at the sound of his name being called and he
turned towards the doors as his friends came into the hall.
       "Oh thank goodness. We were worried, Harry," Hermione said by way of
greeting.
       "Good morning," Harry replied with a smile. "I woke up early," he added
the explanation for their benefit.
       Ron snorted. "You could have woken me."
       "And have you miss out on your beauty sleep?"
       Ginny and Hermione chuckled at that. Ron was not a morning person.
       Ron flushed, his face turning almost the same colour as his hair and he
had the grace to look chagrined. "You could have woken me," Neville said at
last, diverting attention from Ron's embarrassment.
       "I could have," Harry agreed, "but I only went flying; gotta practice
for the quidditch season." The smirk was heard in his voice. That was something
he had to do actually. He had to book time on the pitch so that they could hold
try outs.
       "Wake me next time," Ron said with force as the others laughed. The team
was pretty much gone with the others graduating and they all knew that Ron had
his sights set on the position of Keeper.
       One of the Seventh Years came by then, bearing papers. "Our schedules,"
Hermione said happily, picking them up and shifting through them. "Wow, Harry!"
       "I know, I know," he said, green eyes smiling at her.
       "What the hell?" the question came from Ron as he snatched one of the
parchments from Hermione. "What the hell is this Harry?"
       "Ron," Harry said seriously, his tone of voice almost cold. It brought
the rant the red haired boy was about to launch into to an end. Harry had been
hoping that Ron wouldn't react like this but he'd expected it and he was going
to head off the feelings of jealousy and inadequacy the other boy no doubt felt
early. It would also help him deal with his own feeling of betrayal at his
friends almost attack. "I will explain tonight."
       The youngest male Weasley took a deep breath, obviously wanting to say
more but with a firm motion he snapped his jaw closed. A very quick glance at
Hermione showed her to be worried and after another calming breath Ron nodded.
"Thank you Harry. I'm sure the explanation will be interesting." Despite the
fact the words were snide, they were genuine. Ron was trying and for the sake
of their friendship, he would wait before he made assumptions... or he'd try to
wait.
       "Have some breakfast then we can go to class."
       "That in itself sucks," Ron grumbled, back to normal as he served
himself a large breakfast.
===
       Amelia downed an extra large dose of Pepper-up Potion. She was so tired
that the usual steam from her ears was merely a whisper. First the Express, and
then Azkaban. She was not as young as she had once been and the lack of sleep
was telling, but there remained so much to be done.
       They had managed to keep the news of Azkaban from the papers but she
didn't know how much longer that would be the case. All the Express concerns
had been put to the junior Aurors as the more senior members of the Department
tried to get lists of everyone whom every prisoner might contact now that they
were out. A significant portion of the Aurors were also trying to work out
exactly what had happened.
       "You need sleep."
       Amelia didn't even look up as the Head Unspeakable sat down opposite
her. "Unless you have a list or more information, Croaker, I really don't have
time to chat."
       The man chuckled. "I don't have a list, but I do have the time line of
events... which I suppose is a kind of list."
       "More good news," Madam Bones groaned. "Tell me the worst," she said
breathily, sighing even as she spoke.
       "Well, the Dementors defected, but that's blatantly obvious. They were
the ones who did most of the dirty work though, subduing the Wardens while the
Death Eaters rode over on the dinghy. I still don't know who took out the
control room but it was one person whose magical signature isn't on file, even
as an unknown. You-Know-Who spent quite a few hours on Azkaban. Doing what, we
are not sure, but pretty much all of the prisoners left from the open court
yard near the top. Port Keys were used extensively, but we have not been able
to track their destination."
       "So what you are telling me," the head of the D.M.L.E. said softly, "is
that the attack on the Hogwart's Express was merely meant to be a diversion."
       "One that worked spectacularly well," Croaker said with an odd smile.
       Amelia resisted the urge to roll her eyes. While she would not call
Croaker a friend, the two of them had worked together for years, she was aware
of most of the Head Unspeakable's quirks. "So, the Dark Lord was on Azkaban for
hours... doing what?"
       "That I don't know," the robed man said. "But the astral and other
instruments are very clear on that. He arrived at about sundown and remained in
that courtyard until the Aurors arrived in force."
       Amelia reached out her hand, shuffling through some papers to find a
list that had been complied very early for her. It was a list of prisoners in
Azkaban. She shoved it towards the Head Unspeakable. "If we assume that all the
imprisoned Death Eaters returned to their Master, that still leaves us with
twenty eight long term prisoners, three of which are vampires, who could be now
serving him. I think we can assume at least one or two will betray him but that
isn't something I want to rely upon."
       "And the other prisoners?" Croaker asked. "Sixty short term and sixty
medium term prisoners."
       "Who knows? I would have thought if he was going to raid, he'd just take
his followers, since the others are such a mixed bunch. There is no guarantee
that any of them will follow him but he's taken them all."
       "Probably for sacrifices. I hope."
       "You hope they are sacrifices?"
       Croaker looked tired. "Better dead than the alternative."
       "The alternative? What aren't you telling me?" Amelia demanded.
       Croaker looked around her office for a moment before he raised his wand,
casting a small privacy ward. It covered only her desk and the immediate area
around it, but she recognised the casting. It was a special ward used by the
Unspeakables and was practically unbreakable. No one would hear what their
Leader said for the moment.
       "Do you know how Dementors reproduce?" He asked, with a sudden
seriousness.
       "No," Amelia frowned at the question. Her school days were long ago but
she could remember her Care of Magical Creatures class on Dementors because it
had been singularly short. Dementors were loathsome beings that most did not
want to be near. They could not be kept as pets, and their only use was to
guard the most dangerous, the most despicable prisoners the wizards had. How
and what they fed upon was common knowledge and there was not much more to
know. Their Defence against the Dark Art's class gave out more information than
the Care of Magical Creatures one.
       "When I became the Unspeakable Leader, Dementor reproduction was covered
in the information pack. It's not a pleasant process."
       "How?"
       Croaker shuddered. "I won't go into all the gory details but for
Dementors to reproduce they need magical victims. In summary, the soul is
removed from the body, then a part of it is replaced. Yes," the Head
Unspeakable answered Amelia's question before she even asked. "They can reverse
their Kiss if they wish but for reproduction they only replace a tiny fraction
of the soul in the body. After that, the victim's magic core is twisted as
every last memory is extracted and various other tortures are performed. Then,
at some point the last bit of the soul is removed. And that is what makes a new
Dementor."
       The D.M.L.E. Head groaned. "So... potentially one hundred and twenty new
Dementors are being created as we speak?"
       "Probably not all of the prisoners," Croaker said, not bothering to hide
his own sigh. They were not in a good position. There was no point in
pretending otherwise. "A few of the medium and short term prisoners probably
have some skills he would want to use but yes, I fear that the Dementor
population will go up shortly."
       "Don't you have any good news?" Amelia said as the Unspeakable dispelled
his privacy ward.
       "The Prophet has no idea what has happened. The Quibbler has already
sent a note saying they will hold off on publishing any detail about Azkaban
until we give the okay."
       "How the hell do they know already?"
       "No idea," Croaker laughed. "Most wizards view that paper as rubbish but
they do publish the unvarnished truth... as they see it. Don't be too
comfortable though, Xenophilus wrote that he could only wait so long."
       "I'll write to him," Amelia promised. She was truly grateful that she
won't be dealing with the mess that would be caused by the news of the Azkaban
break out today or tomorrow. In fact having The Quibbler break the story would
probably be best. They wouldn't put a spin on the story that glorified the
Ministry but instead they would merely report what had happened and provide
warnings and advice on what should be done if any of the wizarding community
encountered an escapee or a Dementor. And with what she had just been told,
that information became far, far more important than every before. "I'll also
have the advised procedures sent to them and a list of prisoners. I'd prefer
them publish it over The Prophet anyway. At least I know Xeno won't change it.
There is though, one last thing?"
       "What is it?" Croaker asked as he rose.
       Amelia looked up at him, meeting his eyes. "I've seen Dementors
destroyed before, is there an easier process?"
       Croaker shook his head sadly. "Unfortunately, not that I know of but I
will have the Department check. If there is, we need to know about it now."
       "I'd appreciate it."
       "Get some sleep, Amelia," Croaker said as he left her office. "Don't
make me pull Ministerial Rank on you to see that you rest."
       "I'll go to bed soon," the head of the D.M.L.E. promised. "Or at least I
will give orders that even if the Dark Lord himself is attacking that they
aren't to wake me," she said the last with a small smile that was returned as
the Leader of the Unspeakables left.
       Amelia closed her eyes briefly. This wasn't going to be the first time
she had such a conversation with the Head Unspeakable this year. Of that she
was sure.
===
       Voldemort walked down the corridors of his stronghold. He'd slept late,
and after checking a few of his newly-freed Death Eaters, it occurred to him
that he had been remiss in his duties. His healers assured him that his
followers would recover, especially with the amount of potions they would be
consuming. It would take some time before they would be effective in combat but
he could hold out that long.
       It would give him some free time to deal with issues he had ignored. He
had invited several groups to be guests, and he had been neglecting them.
       :You have been,: the shadows whispered to him. :But they are close to
the Dementors so that has been sufficient for now.:
       "But not enough," he replied. "Unfortunately, while I have the time now,
I don't think that will continue. I'm going to need something more appropriate
than the Dementors."
       The Shadows chuckled. :We would like the purely Muggle ones moved as
well. Kisha has been asking a few too many questions for our liking.:
       "Oh?" he raised one eyebrow.
       :She seeks proof that you and our Master are allied.:
       "So she's asking the prisoners?"
       :She's asking everyone she can... discretely, of course. She has the
good taste to be discrete about it, and she's even trying to hide it from us.:
       "She obviously needs more practice at that," the Dark Lord snorted.
       :She thinks she has.:
       A quick smile flashed across Voldemort's face. The Shadows were truly
masters of the game.
       "Where would you like them moved?"
       :Put them in with the Dementor's prisoners,: the Shadows answered
immediately.
       "They won't eat them?"
       :Not without permission they won't. And neither Shadow or serpent will
give permission now, will we?: the Shadows laughed the question before they
continued. :We have already instructed them not to answer the vampire's
questions, but it would be good if you did, too.:
       Voldemort nodded. He knew the Dementors were loyal to the dark first,
they had said as much when they had questioned him on Azkaban, but since his
beloved would never call them to his service, they would serve him as the Dark
Lord.
       "What are they doing with their own prisoners?"
       :Making more Dementors.:
       "Ah, so that's why they were so insistent on getting the bodies."
       :Yes, that's why all Dementor Kissed victims, even Muggles, are taken by
the Ministry. They do not want the Dementors coming back to finish the job.:
       "Interesting and something I rather approve of, but unfortunately it
does not deal with the prisoners I have."
       :Those you are keeping for our Master are easy. You are a Legilimens,
lock them into some appropriate memory, and stash the bodies with the
Dementors. They will keep until our Master is ready, which will probably be
soon. As for the traitors, we would suggest just killing them as they are not
worth keeping.:
       "I think I can do better than that for Lucius."
       :True, but the others are good only as food.:
       "What about their light?"
       The shadows humphed dismissively, :Now that we have started to feed from
our Master's light, their light is ... stale.:
       One of the Dementors floated down the rather dark hallway to meet them
at that point. Voldemort gave it the instructions, having it bring each of the
Muggles before him, where he briefly rummaged around in what was left of their
minds, trapping them in a circle of memories he provided. They would live what
they had done to his beloved until they were released from it. The Dementors
presence would take care of punishing their physical bodies.
       :Not these four,: the shadows said suddenly as the final Muggle
prisoners were brought before him. Voldemort vaguely recognised them as the
Dursleys and the man who had been the one to suggest the entire thing to
Vernon. The Dark Lord had discovered that he was more of an organiser. He was
the one who found most of the children for the others, talking with others of
similar tastes. It was a classical rebellion-like cell, effective at hiding and
protecting the organisation. If they were part of a larger group, Voldemort
didn't care. He had the ones who were important to him. The Dursleys had
changed from their time in captivity. They were all dirty, covered in blood,
faeces, and half healed wounds, many festering, but none had been allowed to
become life threatening. For the moment they were more important to him alive.
Vernon and Dudley were almost thin; their skin sagged off them in unlovely
folds, while Petunia was skin and bones. Almost every one of her bones could be
seen though some were now deformed, from where they had been broken and
inexpertly set and healed. All four were snivelling, but all four still had the
eyes of the sane. They still knew they were being punished and still
experienced anguish from it.
       Voldemort smiled. Their physical appearance didn't bother him and the
last pleased him. "What do you wish done with these?"
       :Give them to your newly freed Death Eaters. We will reinforce their
protections against insanity. So long as no one kills them then they will be
fine,: the Shadows said easily. :A different fate awaits these four anyway.:
       "Hmm?"
       :You'll see.:
       "True." Voldemort had continued into the area of cells once he'd
finished with the Muggles. The Shadows were right, for the most part, those who
had followed Lucius were only good as practice dummies before they became food.
Those of his follows who had remained loyal could amuse themselves practicing
on them before they were fed to creatures loyal to him. There were so many that
appreciated human flesh and many would follow him forever for the taste of
wizard flesh. That would be their fate, that and to be wiped from memory.
"Though I think I have time to have a chat with Lucius."
       :Oh yes, that would be best.:
       Voldemort slipped into a non-descript cell. Lucius was inside, sitting
in the corner. He was restrained by the simple expedient of a chain around his
ankle, gauntlets on each wrist and a thin torc of iron at his throat, all
embedded with magic-draining properties. Even if Lucius was skilled in wandless
magic, the draining effect would require him to use all his magic to perform
even the simplest of tasks, assuming he was strong enough in the first place
now that the vampire blood was completely out of his system, and there was an
additional charm on the restraints. They would heat up if there was too much
magic in their presence and were even now uncomfortably warm for Lucius just
because the Serpent Lord was near.
       "Good morning, Lucius, I trust you have been well?"
       The former leader of the Rebel Death Eaters didn't look up. His blond
hair was lank and almost transparent and like all other prisoners he was thin.
His clothing, the same as he had worn on that night was ripped and torn, but
that was of no concern to the Dark Lord. Idly he conjured a chair for himself.
       "No reply, Lucius? Really, how rude."
       "Hrgss."
       Voldemort's red robes rustled as he chuckled. "How eloquent!" He said
feigning delight. "I did promise you would be screaming my name, didn't I?" the
Dark Lord questioned, mostly to himself. "I have been rather remiss in that,
but I think you have been a rather forgiving guest and have done much of the
work yourself." Lucius' occulmency shields were almost gone. The Dementors had
done some of it, but if a wizard was determined they could keep raising their
mental defences almost indefinitely against the Dementors. No, Lucius' shields
were crumbling from within as his doubt, guilt, disbelief and worries fed
endlessly upon his mind. :Where is Kisha?: The red-eyed Dark Lord asked
silently of the Shadows.
       :Above with those new Vampires you rescued,: the shadows replied.
       :Good.: "You still don't believe it, do you Lucius," Voldemort said.
"You still don't believe that the Shadow Lord stands by my side."
       "How the hell does Dumbledore not see that?"
       "Ah, you were one of my favourites Lucius, because there are times when
you see straight into the heart of the matter. Dumbledore doesn't see because
he doesn't want to see. That and the Shadow Lord is very good at hiding."
       "That still doesn't explain it. How? You are persuasive, but I somehow
doubt you had much to offer him."
       "I had everything to offer him Lucius. But it was the truth that was the
most important thing."
       "Truth?"
       "The truth. It is such a simple thing, but so often so very hard to
find."
       "So you never were obsessed?"
       "I never said that. But his power is worth the time it took to court and
seduce. It may be obsession, Lucius, but it is obsession with power. And that
is why you lost. Power is more than blood."
       Lucius blinked and then seemed to dismiss the matter. While it may be an
interesting academic question, it really wasn't one that affected him either
way. The how and the why of the matter was not going to change his situation.
"What happens now?" The former Death Eater asked.
       The Dark Lord was surprised. He had not expected Lucius to be resigned
so quickly. The answer was the same though. "Most of the idiots who chose to
follow you will be executed as time goes on. You will watch as the Light falls.
Though Lucius, you should feel thankful. My plans for you do include your
death. Harry is nowhere near that merciful."
       The Shadows chuckled. :You figured it out?:
       :I suspect I know,: Voldemort replied. :But I'll wait to see if my
suspicions are correct.:
       "Draco and Narcissa?"
       "Narcissa has had the time to return to me but has not. Your son? Your
son is of no concern to me. I wager though Xeoaph is interested in him for the
blood price you promised but cannot fulfil."
       Lucius chuckled though his laugh was strained and phlegmy. "Draco can't
pay the price," the dishevelled wizard muttered.
       "Oh, you made the pact specific to you?" The Dark Lord was slightly
impressed. He didn't think the elder vampire would have agreed to that, since
tying it Lucius made avoidance of the price rather easy.
       "No," the elder Malfoy shook his head. "Draco is special. Magical debts
do not transfer to him. I don't know how it happened I just know that it's
impossible for the debt to be transferred."
       Voldemort laughed. Assuming Harry didn't get to Draco first, it would
almost be amusing to watch the elder Vampire try to extract payment. "I don't
think he will get the chance to find out," the Serpent Lord remarked. "After
all, you of all people know what your son is facing."
       "I just told him to make sure Potter was occupied."
       "Apparently then he likes to improvise."
       "What did he do?" Lucius' voice showed some real interest.
       "Before or during your little insurrection?"
       Lucius rubbed one finger over the bridge of his nose. "He said something
to me about making Potter too scared to do anything before we attacked and I
never heard what he did during it."
       The Dark Lord could tell Lucius was speaking the truth. Or at least,
what he believed was the truth. "I suppose I will have to take that into
consideration when disciplining you then. I suppose I should have known. You
would have had a bit more style in the attacks. Draco was positively crude.
Rape and Avada Kedrava are not subtle, but that is a conversation we can have
another day. I really have been neglecting my promise to you for too long,
though. I will be disappointed if it comes about today."
       As expected Lucius stiffened, but he maintained enough poise not to
skirt back. He was still an aristocrat at heart.
       "I also ask you to forgive the hypocrisy. Cruciatus is not subtle, but
I'm in a bit of a hurry, and it gets the job done. Crucio!" The Dark Lord
didn't bother going for his wand as he cast. Crucio was a common and familiar
spell to him after all.
       The blond jerked as the pain curse hit him, but he was still proud
enough not to scream. While he was resigned to his fate, he still maintained
some of the pride that had lead him on this path. He would scream the Dark
Lord's name, though Voldemort was oddly pleased that it would not be today. It
would be so disappointing if Lucius really was that weak.
       The Dark Lord lifted his Crucio for a moment, allowing Lucius to catch
his breath before he cast the curse again.
       As the blond once again curled into himself as the curse raced through
his body, the Dark Lord narrowed his eyes. It would not do for him to neglect
Lucius for so long again. For today he had the time, but for the future, he
would have to make the time to ensure the senior Malfoy was well cared for.
===
       "All right, Ron, I'll explain now," Harry said easily. He and his
friends were in a disused classroom. He could have arranged for privacy in the
Gryffindor common room but Luna wanted to be there, and he could have invited
them to the other room he had for his use this year, but he wanted to keep that
to himself as a sanctuary if he needed it. They could have used the Room of
Requirement, but a few too many people knew of that so they were in one of the
many empty rooms of the castle. Harry had put up a few wards, including
proximity and sound proofing, but they would have to be quick to get to the
Feast in time.
       "Please, Harry that would be good," Hermione answered for them all.
       "First off, yes I did my O.W.L.s over the summer and I don't know the
results yet, but I do know I did well. I think I even passed my N.E.W.T.s with
them."
       "What! How is that possible?"
       "Fairly easily," Harry replied with a shrug, "because after the first
two O.W.L.s, they replaced the papers with N.E.W.T. papers. I noticed. They
don't think I did, but I did. The other thing you must remember is that I
didn't just do the O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s in those classes I took. I did them in
everything."
       "Harry..." Hermione said. "How could you have done that? Arithmancy and
Ancient Runes aren't simple subjects. You just can't make something up like you
can in Divination."
       Harry turned green eyes towards her, smiling easily as he ran one hand
through his hair. "I know. I probably can't explain everything now but you know
that Voldemort and I have a link through my scar."
       The group nodded, though Hermione's eyes clouded with worry.
       "I have Occlumency shields to block him out and Fawkes is helping with
that now that I'm a member of the Order. But this scar isn't all I got from him
on that night."
       "We know you are a Parselmouth," Neville said.
       Harry sighed. "No Neville, it's not just that. I got everything."
       "Everything?"
       "All his knowledge, all his skills; everything he was at the moment the
Avada Kedrava rebounded to hit him. All of it came into me."
       "Oh my god, Harry!" Hermione whispered, her voice shocked.
       "I know," Harry said seriously. "Some of it I can't use," he swallowed
hard. "I just can't. Some of it though... it's really useful if you just use it
in the right circumstances."
       "It? What is it?" Ron asked irritably.
       Three pairs of eyes turned towards Ron, almost in disbelief while Luna
just smiled. It took a moment for people to realise the question was genuine.
Ginny sighed, and Neville just looked pleadingly towards Hermione who chuckled
slightly. Harry just looked a little amused. In the end it wasn't such a bad
question after all.
       Hermione began the explanation though. "Ron, you know what happened when
Harry was a baby, right?"
       "Yeah, You-Know-Who tried to kill him, but the curse rebounded and all
that," the youngest male Weasley said, simplifying events extremely because it
was more than a bit silly to discuss things with the person in front of them.
       "The curse rebounded Ron, and Harry got that scar but that wasn't all
that he got that night."
       "What? What else was there left to get?"
       "Everything Ron," Harry said seriously. "Not only did I get this scar
and the ability to speak Parseltongue. I got everything else, all his skills,
all his knowledge, all his memories, everything Ron. It took a long time for it
to come out, but it's all in here." He tapped his forehead.
       "Bloody hell!" Ron exclaimed, falling back into the chair behind him.
"So you went into the O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s knowing everything?"
       "Pretty much."
       "Bloody hell!" Ron repeated before falling silent for a few moments.
From the frown on the boy's face they could tell that he was thinking hard.
"Bloody hell," the red head said again softly. "I have never been more glad
that you are you, Harry."
       The group smiled at his statement. It was so Ron.
       "There's a bit more of course and a lot more theories and things like
that besides it, but that's why I am taking almost every class. Keep in mind
though, that I don't have to take those classes. I'm taking them and am
attending school because I want to. Because I want to be here and I want to be
with my friends."
       "Oh Harry," Hermione's eyes were bright with tears.
       They sat for a few moments in silence before Harry stirred. "We'd better
get to the Feast. I wanted to explain this early so that you all knew. There
will be odd things going on this year, but no matter what happens, I want you
to know I am your friend, but I make the decisions for my future. Even if you
think they are wrong, they are MY decisions and I will live with the
consequences."
       Luna looked up at the ceiling. "And the Ministry and the Order and
everyone else, us included, have put you in the position where we must live
with the consequences as well," she murmured without rancour.
       "Let's get to the Feast," Neville said unexpectedly. "Thank you for
explaining, Harry," he added as he slipped off the desk he had been sitting on
and went to the door.
       "Thank you for listening," Harry said as he dispelled his wards looking
at his friends but keeping the considering expression from reaching his face.
       Ginny looked just slightly smug. She was hiding it well but for those
who knew what to look for, the expression was there. She hadn't heard all this
before but she knew it and she was feeling superior because of her prior
knowledge. Not obnoxiously superior, but it was there. Perhaps she had the
right to feel that way, but inner Harry didn't need a girl who was not above
childish games. She had the sense not to brag so Harry tried to keep his
thoughts reasonable.
       Luna looked as dreamy as always. She'd seen to the heart of the matter
and as was normal for her, she did not seem concerned. She'd already accepted
that he would be making the choices for himself and that those choices would
have an impact on her and wizarding society, but she had also accepted that
they were his choices to make. She would offer advice in that round about and
almost incomprehensible manner she had, but she wouldn't try to force him. :She
doesn't accept everything Master,: the Shadows said suddenly. :But she does
have the sense not to use force when that will only make things worse. She will
fight though, Master, when she feels that is the way and she will be dangerous
when she does. This one is not as ineffectual as most think.:
       Mentally, Harry cocked his head at his servants. He had not expected
their advice or their commentary on Luna, but apparently they were interested
and they had seen her in a different light from the rest of them. :Not really
Master, we just have the time and the experience to see the truth.:
       Harry nodded before shifting his gaze away from Luna. She would do what
she thought was best, much as he would, and he would respect her choices as she
would respect his. If they disagreed they would disagree and fight. That was
her honesty and he would give her honesty in return.
       Neville looked thoughtful but not particularly scared. He was obviously
thinking about what he had heard and while he seemed to be accepting, Harry
knew better than to just make that assumption. Neville would and could stand up
for what he believed in. It was obvious from his stance though that he hadn't
quite realised exactly what it meant that Harry would be making the decisions
for the future, or that if he had accepted that realisation then he was
assuming, as was almost everyone else, that his decisions would be those that
were assumed.
       Hermione looked ambivalent. Harry could tell she was slightly jealous
that he had seemingly been given all the information she studied so hard for,
but at the same time he knew she knew the cost. At the moment she was jealous
of the idea of the information though in time he already knew she would decide
the cost was not worth it. It was better to study hard for herself to obtain
the information than to gain it the way Harry had. Underlying that though,
there was concern. It showed in the faint frown on her brow. She knew what it
meant that he would be making decisions, but she wasn't assuming they would be
the ones everyone thought he would make. She was considering other things and
other paths but right at the moment Harry couldn't tell if she would try to
convince him to a particular side. Hopefully, she wouldn't simply because she
did not know the full situation.
       :We will keep watch. We always keep watch.:
       Ron was... well Ron seemed relieved, as if something that had been
bothering him was finally put to rest. :He wasn't that concerned why I was
doing all those classes was he?: Harry asked the Shadows with a degree of
incredulism colouring his mental voice.
       :No,: the shadows said slowly. :It's something more than that,: they
added.
       As they walked down the corridor towards the Great Hall, Ron moved to
walk beside Harry. "I'm glad you explained," the red-haired boy said.
       "You guys deserve to know, just I couldn't explain this morning in front
of everyone."
       "I know and I'm sorry for making assumptions."
       "It's okay, I don't know what I would think in a similar situation,"
Harry said honestly.
       Ron looked pensive for a moment. "I know there is more stuff you aren't
saying Harry," he said. "But I also know you will tell or explain in time, so
I'm going to try not to nag or be angry over that. There are things the Order
probably told you that you can't tell us. Mum and Dad had a talk with Ginny and
me over the summer to remind us about that."
       "Did they?"
       "Yeah," Ron grinned. "Mostly to remind us that if there is things you
can't or don't tell us, then it's probably not your fault."
       Harry smiled. "Well, your parents are very wise. And yes, there are one
or two things I haven't told you," the black-haired young man said the last
seriously. "I want to tell you, but this isn't a game and you know it. Some of
it will be very surprising and it will either win or lose the war, so when I
tell you Ron, I have to know that you are going to stand with me."
       Ron blinked both at the seriousness he could hear in Harry's voice but
also the note of desperation. It made Harry's statement of earlier, that he
wanted to be here to be with his friends, that much more potent. And suddenly
he knew, that whatever Harry wasn't telling them was something that was going
to change everything. "I'll..." Ron started, before realising he had no idea
what to say. He thought for a few more moments. "I'll try to see things from
your point of view Harry, when you tell us and to give you the opportunity to
explain, no matter how surprising whatever you decide is."
       Green eyes flicked over Ron carefully before Harry nodded. That was all
he could ask from his friends, that they would try to see things his way. He
hoped they did, because there were very few others who would.
 
 
***** Observations of the Past *****
Weapon
Chapter 23 Observations of the Past
===
       The Sorting Hat had a unique job. Some called it a boring job and while
that could be true for a great deal of the time, it was however a job that
could leave the ancient artefact almost breathless. Most would think that
rummaging around in eleven year olds' heads would be mundane, but most only got
to rummage around in the surface thoughts. Skilled Legilimens tried not to
delve too deeply into the forming minds of children or adolescents lest they
leave some sort of impression, but the Sorting Hat was bewitched with skills
that even the most highly rated Legilimens only dreamed about. The Hat didn't
just delve into the surface thoughts; the Hat delved deeper into what gave each
individual their individual traits. The in short time it was on the new
students head, it saw all memories, saw all drives and ambitions and if asked
it could predict a great deal of the students future. Most eleven year olds had
no conscious profound thoughts, but beneath that, in their subconscious, even
at eleven, a lot of the base for their lives and future decisions had already
been set.
       That's not to say that some individuals didn't encounter life changing
epiphanies sometime after they turned eleven; just that most individuals
didn't. What they were subconsciously at eleven was what they would remain for
the rest of their lives.
       And thus in the present day, the Sorting Hat had seen what Albus
Dumbledore would become, driven as he was by the guilt of his sister's death.
The Hat had seen that Aberforth would be bound by love and resentment and by
the belief that he was normal and thus he would lead a relatively normal and
quiet wizarding life. The Hat had seen the pain in Tom Riddle's soul. It had
also seen the burning ambition and the Hat had known then for that young man,
peace would only come when he found another who understood his pain. The
Sorting Hat had seen into the depths of the myriad of pureblood wizards and
witches who blindly believed in their superiority, it had seen the naive and
almost childlike beliefs of the Muggleborn wizards who were just discovering
their futures.
       Living as it did in the Headmaster's office all year around, the Sorting
Hat had a fair idea of the general situation in the Wizarding world. Everyone
spoke to Dumbledore at some stage and the Hat got to listen in. So with all of
its knowledge, it wasn't often that the Sorting Hat really wanted to see inside
one of the students heads again but today, as it waited on the stool watching
the elder students gather, it could see the changes in the school and in some
individuals and those changes didn't follow the life path that the Hat had
foreseen. Something had happened. Something life changing had happened and it
had no idea what.
       The change centred on two of the Sixth Year students and radiated
outwards towards their friends and via that the rest of the school. As the Hat
cast a glance backwards, it could also see a few alterations in the staff. The
new staff were at the table already, as was to be expected, but some of the
older staff were being drawn in. The Potions Master may think he hid his
distress and turmoil well but hiding from a creation that had had a glimpse
into the depths of your soul was much harder. In Severus there had been a depth
of loyalty that would put any Hufflepuff to shame but it was focused on one
woman. In that form it was almost an obsession, one the woman had not returned.
She had been fond of him, and that fondness could have become love with the
right circumstances, but she was never going to be as blindly devoted to
Severus as he was to her and that would have caused them problems if they had
of become a couple. Since they hadn't, that had left Severus pining after the
impossible. Right at the moment though, he was only pining after rest. Behind
his Occlumency shields his mindscape was a mess. It was skittering around
almost plaintively as it sought to escape something... something that seemed as
insubstantial as shadow.
       The Hat crinkled in a frown. Shadow..?
       The Sorting Hat turned its attention inwards, delving deep into its
memory but before it could track down the reason shadows seemed oddly familiar,
its attention was drawn back into the present by the procession of the First
Years. Once it was back in the Headmaster's office tonight, it would have a lot
to think about and the Hat wondered if it could somehow come up with a reason
to be placed on the head of a few people again. In due course, the events of
the world would let it know what had happened, but it wanted to know now!
       The Hat took another look around as the Headmaster made his obligatory
introduction for the new students and explained what would happen to sort them
into new houses. Hogwarts looked almost united, though the changes it could
sense in the two main students would soon affect that unity. The Hat could feel
that the two of them would choose their own futures and the rest of the
students would either have to follow or fight. Unity didn't concern either of
them and while neither of them wanted to fall on the path they chose, if they
fell, then they accepted that as a part of the price of forging their own
future. The only problem was if they fell, then they would take those who had
followed them down as well.
       Usually that wasn't such a big problem, but at the moment any loss could
be disastrous. He would sing of a warning but at the moment, it didn't matter
if he just came out and said it, no one would take heed. The Dark Lord was
still there and he should still be the primary target. They could not forget
that. Though the Hat had to think about what it could remember of the Shadows.
It had been so long since... since... since what it didn't recall but the stray
thought had caught it unguarded. There was definitely something about shadow
that the Hat knew and that was trying to come to the fore. It was something
ancient, something tied in with the Hat's beginning. It would take a while to
find, but as soon as the sorting was over, the Hat could somehow feel it needed
to know what that memory held.
===
       Harry lay on his back, looking up at the canopy of his bed. The curtains
were drawn and around him; he could hear the soft snores of the others. They
had fallen asleep quickly after their night time Astronomy class. He smiled to
himself. It was definitely comforting and while from past years he was used to
it, he conceded to himself that it may become overwhelming. He was someone who
occasionally needed his solitude.
       It had been a hectic day, ducking in and out of classes, explaining
things to his friends and generally behaving as if he was normal. He was
feeling energised though and almost too excited to sleep. Things were finally
happening! Once he established in his heart and mind whether his friends would
follow him or not, then he could either abandon the pretence of school or
continue on. He wanted his friends to be with him but even if they didn't he
still wanted to stay at Hogwarts. It was close to Dumbledore and you could
never keep too close an eye on the old coot. The man held too many positions in
the Wizarding world to be ignored.
       But that wasn't what Harry wanted to think about now. Over the next few
days things would begin to happen. There was a full moon, so Remus would test
out the charm that had been cast upon him. Harry had no doubt of its efficacy,
and Remus would be pleasantly surprised when he spent the transformation
complete with his human mind. The Headmaster had already said that Harry could
not spend the time with the werewolf, even in his animagus form which meant
that Remus would be alone... or rather he'd be spending it with Gideon. The
Death Eater Werewolf was still in hiding. Harry sighed, reflectively. That
wasn't going to be fun for Remus, keeping the other werewolf in line, but he
would manage. Once he recovered from the effects of the full moon, then Remus
would go to the Gathering and...
       :And our alliance with the werewolves starts there,: the shadows filled
in as Harry's thoughts faltered.
       :Does it?: Harry asked. He could think of many things that could go
wrong. In the end he knew that he would be allied with the werewolves, or they
would ally with his Beloved, but establishing this alliance smoothly was almost
as important as the alliance itself. A smooth establishment showed any watching
creatures that they were organised and that they would keep their word. It
showed the world that they were capable and that was a very important
consideration.
       :Oh, there will probably be problems,: the shadows conceded, :but in the
end Master, you are correct; they will ally either with us or with Voldemort.
Remus will argue our case and he will be very convincing but it's possible the
others will follow the Serpent Lord anyway, out of habit probably.:
       :If they follow Voldemort, that's the least of our concerns, though it
will be disappointing,: Harry said as he let his mind entwine with the shadows.
:Remus will follow me, or maybe Sirius either way but where does that leave us
with Snape?:
       During classes today Harry had gotten a good look at the Potion Master.
He'd spent time with the greasy-haired man all summer and those lessons had
improved his sword technique immensely, but during those lessons the Potion
Master had always been controlled and focused on teaching. He'd answered
questions when asked but generally the lessons went without much talk. The
formal phrases of 'Bow. Salute. Begin!' did not count as conversation. Because
of that he had not really been able to track the Shadows as they worked on the
Potion Master. It hadn't concerned him until now. What would he do with a
seduced Potion Master, if he had no need of such thing?
       And the Shadows were well on their way to seducing the man. It had been
obvious if you knew what to look for, though Snape had done an admiral job in
continuing his usual behaviour in class. But beneath that, the Potion Master
had been trembling and every little noise that was out of the ordinary had
caused him to start; every flicker of light through the high windows had him
glancing around nervously looking deeply into the shadows for things that
weren't necessarily there. There had been one change though. The dungeon was
usually dank and dark with plenty of places for Harry's servants to hide in.
Snape had announced at the beginning of the class that he fondly hoped that
better lighting would make for better results, though he didn't expect much
from the dunderheads.
       The shadow that was under Harry's robe had chuckled into his master's
ear at the brilliant lighting that was now affixed to the dungeon walls and
ceiling. :At least everyone will be able to see which ingredient is which.:
       Harry had agreed silently before he turned his attention to the class.
       :Snape will be ready when we need him,: the shadows replied to Harry's
question, supplying him with several images of the Potion Master. The singular
time he allowed himself to acknowledge the Shadows was becoming longer and
longer and they were playing on that, highlighting to him how much nicer it was
when he didn't have to look over his shoulder for them. :We thought we might
tell the Serpent Lord that we are taking him. Snape will betray him at some
stage, we do not want Voldemort to see our protection of the potion master as
your betrayal.:
       :Good,: Harry said, before he yawned. Perhaps he wouldn't have the long
talk he wanted to have with the Shadows tonight, but there was one more thing
that needed to be discussed. :I still don't know what you want me to do with
Ginny.:
       :You are doing fine with her,: the Shadows reassured him. :Xeoaph wasn't
completely fooled at the station, but the vampire has centuries of doubt.
Dumbledore and the Order believe it. The question is rather what do you want to
do with her?:
       The black haired boy sighed. :She's necessary,: he admitted with a less
than good grace. :But how necessary is she for the long term?:
       The Shadows seemed to blink. :She is necessary,: they agreed. :And she's
necessary for reasons which have not come to light yet. Circumstance will
define if those reasons come to pass. We play the game master and we play every
aspect of the game so there are times when our plays come to naught. We would
have more knowledge of her and the reasons master, but at the moment, it's just
another thing that may or may not happen. We aren't sure. Past the end of the
year though... you are correct, she becomes just another witch. Unless you want
to breed master?:
       :Maybe someday,: Harry said, and was surprised by his own response. :But
not for the moment. Even then I'm not sure I'd want her.:
       :So leave it for the moment Master. She's necessary for now. When the
situation changes, it would be best to examine then the best options for
dealing with her.:
       :Nothing is set in stone,: Harry murmured mentally.
       The Shadows chuckled. :Even if it was Master, you are adept at Reducto.:
       Harry smiled at their quip, but he was losing the battle against sleep.
:We will talk when we have solid information, Master,: the Shadows whispered to
him. :We like to speculate, but talk is more productive with facts so sleep now
and we will talk later,: the Shadows whispered the last as their master drifted
fully into sleep.
===
       In the Headmaster's office, the Sorting Hat sat on its shelf. It had
sung it's warning, which had mostly been ignored as it had expected and then it
had sorted the students. There had been a small difference this time as the
students had known each other for a day or so. Hopefully they would keep the
friendships between those it had been forced to separate on their respective
personalities. Then the Hat had been transported back to the Headmaster's
office and put away. It was then that the Hat had been able to consider the
discrepancy it had noticed earlier.
       With a few muttered words the Hat had put itself into a trance and had
begun sorting through its oldest memories. Its existence was almost a mistake.
Godric and the others had cast charms on it, but that was near the end. Riding
around with Godric for as long as the Hat had was really what created it. It
had seen both great and common magic. It had been present when the foundation
for Hogwarts was laid and infused with magic so that the castle truly lived. It
remembered that well. Infusion magic was an art lost to most now and it was
never anything that had been the most precise branch. They, the Founders, had
meant only to infuse the Heart Stone, but the Hat had also been infused and at
that point, it had gained true consciousness. Because it had been around magic
for so long though, it could remember, vaguely, some of the things that had
happened before it was born. Though those weren't the memories the Hat was
searching now, they did make for some interesting telling. The Hat had seen
more than the Founding though. It had accompanied Godric through everything; it
was just the Founding improved its ability to remember.
       It was the memories from after the Founding that the Hat was searching
through. The fleeting memory of shadow was linked somehow to Godric. History
today would have the Founding being as a great step forward and something that
was supported by wizards as a whole. It was not. While there was logic in
making a standardised education, for many years the presence of so many witches
and wizards in one place, even though most were fledglings, had caused many
problems. Hogwarts was a castle because it had to be a castle. Defence was the
first priority, firstly from the Muggles who had launched periodic attacks but
perhaps more importantly from other wizards and witches and their dark desires.
Sacrificial magic was potent, and while it was strong when powered by the pain
and death of a Muggle, it was infinitely more powerful when the victim was
magical. Taking a student from their teacher was usually painful when it was
one or two students with an experienced teacher. But the ratio at Hogwarts was
far more favourable, especially if you could separate one of children from
their teachers.
       The Founders weren't combat specialists, but they knew their stuff. They
and the few teachers who helped at first were all proficient in fighting
spells. Dark Arts and Defences had been one of the first agreed upon subjects,
not so much to fend off other wizards as to fight off other dark creatures.
Vampires, Werewolves, even lethifolds were common place though now the
lethifold was extinct on the islands. The world was a dangerous place and the
students needed to learn that.
       The Hat frowned as it came across an interesting memory. The castle was
under attack from Muggles controlled by Vampires. It wasn't such an unusual
situation for the time and the Hat could remember Helga fighting with her
staff, and it could remember Rowena's skill with her daggers and Salazar's
ability with the long sword but it couldn't remember Godric. Now that couldn't
be right... Surely Godric would have been there as well? How did he remember
what the others fought like if Godric wasn't there? Why wasn't it on Godric's
head?
       If the Hat had of been human it would have sighed, as it was though, it
focused its attention more clearly trying to see the battle from a different
perspective. Most did this by loading the memory into a Pensieve, but over the
years the Hat had developed the ability for itself. It could, with sufficient
concentration, hold a memory and move around in it though it could not go
beyond the bounds of the memory. It was a useful skill for searching through
what it had seen. It took a while, there were many on the battle field but
eventually the Hat found Godric. He was near the back, holding the gate with
some of the senior students and most importantly he was not using magic. Why
was he not using magic? Why was he not up the front? Why was someone who looked
like Godric up the front fighting? Obviously someone skilled had to hold the
gate but that was not one of the Founders' jobs, it was a job for one of their
trusted assistants.
       Maybe there was something about that battle that meant Godric couldn't
fight. The Hat didn't want to draw conclusions so pursued other memories. This
time it was Giants who were doing the bidding of a group of Dark Wizards that
were attacking. Once again the Hat could remember the others fighting,
combining their magic to get through the skins of the Giants. They were
effective but once again the Hat had to freeze the memory and look for Godric
who he eventually found helping treat the wounded. Again the Patriarch of the
Gryffindor house was not using any magic beyond some basic healing charms.
Again it was odd and the Hat looked for another memory.
       Trolls lead by human-form Werewolves.
       Dark Wizards and Witches riding Thestrals.
       Acromatula.
       Ghouls and hags.
       Dementors.
       Goblin armies.
       Chimeras and manticores.
       Muggle armies.
       Animal-form werewolves.
       The memories of battles went through the Hat's mind and each time he
could see the other Founders fighting with both magic and weapon and he always
found Godric, either near the rear, fighting only with his sword or he was
helping attend to the wounded, using only simple healing charms. A phoenix was
sometimes seen with him, a phoenix that looked suspiciously like Fawkes.
       The Hat continued to search his memory. There was no reason he could see
for Godric to always hang back yet there must have been. Godric was known for
his fighting skills. How could he be known for his skills if he never fought?
       Finally the Hat came to a memory of a dragon, herded by goblins
attacking the castle. It didn't seem as serious as the other attacks but there
were many goblins and there were a few other dark creatures attacking. The
hangers=on were easy to deal with but the dragon was difficult for the others.
Salazar's serpents could do nothing, Helga's trees and vines could not hold it
back and Rowena's skills meant nothing to it. They could hold it off, they
could defend, they were the most skilled wizards and witches of their age but
they could not drive it off, not with their attacks being split between dragon
and goblins.
       After what seemed to be hours of combat, the Hat could sense Godric's
frustration. He had been helping treat the wounded this time, and it had been a
steady stream of burns and cuts and arrow wounds. He'd patch them up and they
would head out again. More serious injuries were laid around the infirmary. The
defenders were tiring though, even the Hat could sense that and once they
tired, it would only be a matter of time. This was not what anyone wanted.
Godric had sent a message to the outside, his patronus pulsing strongly with
his voice.
       All the defenders fell back to the castle walls and as the last of the
external defenders retreated through the Great Gates, Godric had stepped
through them carrying only a wooden staff wearing robes that were jet black and
had no crest. The Goblins had momentarily thought this was Hogwarts surrender.
They were quickly debased of that notion.
       The Hat watched the memory as it unfolded. It almost didn't know what to
think.
       Godric walked away from Hogwarts, straight towards the dragon, allowing
himself to be surrounded by the goblins. He stopped about twenty metres from
the dragon and sat, placing his staff across his knees. In a soft voice, Godric
had spoken. "You have this one chance to withdraw."
       "Withdraw?" The Goblins questioned before they laughed, their little
voices high with scorn.
       "Or be destroyed," Godric added.
       What struck the Hat was the soft assurance it could hear in the wizard's
voice. There was no question to Godric what would happen. For a moment the calm
assurance shook the Goblins but only for a moment before their belief in their
superiority returned. For all intents and purposes they had the upper hand.
They had the castle's defenders exhausted, they had Godric, one lone wizard
completely surrounded and within range of their dragon. They had no reason to
leave.
       "Go ahead," one of the oldest goblins said. The goblin was thin with
narrow yellow eyes and scars running over his face. His armour was old and
dented but of good quality. The Goblin was probably one of the main leaders and
Godric had just looked up at him sadly, a soft smile on his face.
       There was a moment of stillness before the darkness flowed out from
Godric and spread everywhere, covering everything. The dragon snarled and
belched fire that was quickly quenched by the darkness. The dragon's jaws were
forced closed and its head forced skyward. It screamed, too much like a human
for comfort but it was not strong enough to break the bonds that were forming
around it. The goblins had been at a loss for a moment before they jumped
towards Godric, blades flashing in the setting sun. None of them got to within
three metres of Godric.
       The Hat didn't really know what happened but the darkness that extended
out from Godric seemed to wrap around them and brought them down to the ground
with grunts of pain. The grunts quickly turned into screams and the darkness
spread, stretching to encompass all the goblin armies that were gathered and
all the others that had been participating. Everything was brought down to the
ground and it seemed for a moment that a huge lethifold was covering the
grounds around Hogwarts. It was a darkness that writhed as the individuals
within it fought for a few moments before it stilled showing little lumps over
the fields. The lumps though didn't remain and quickly flattened out.
       The only creature that was not squashed into nothingness was the dragon.
It continued to struggle against the bonds but they held. The darkness spread
over the grounds around Hogwarts for about half an hour before it began
retreating back to Godric leaving only empty armour and tattered fabric in its
wake. Tears were streaming down Godric's face as he rose and walked to the
dragon. He cast carefully at it, cutting away the physical chains that held it
in place but the darkness did not move. It formed a thick band around the
dragons muzzle and forced the massive creatures head down. Godric looked into
the dragon's eyes.
       "Leave now and live free," he said to the dragon before turning to walk
back to the castle.
       Once he was out of range the darkness retreated from the dragon, flowing
back into Godric's clothes. It shook itself before looking balefully at the
retreating form of Godric. It was only a moment and the dragon made no move to
attack before it unfurled its wings, flapping them experimentally. It roared
and flew off and the memory faded into nothing.
       That certainly explained a lot. Power like that... it was a good thing
Godric was scared and sad to use it. If he had of been any other man he could
have ruled the world. But what was that power? The darkness obviously answered
to his conscious call but it ... the Hat wasn't sure. It seemed as if there had
been something more there... except it didn't know what.
       The Hat brought its attention back to the present, though there was
little to observe in the Headmaster's office this late at night. That power was
definitely what had triggered the memory earlier today, though that had been
focused on Snape. The Hat allowed its eyes to half close as it continued to
think. Snape did not and could not control that power but it was interested in
him. Did one of the students now control that power, or was one of the students
now controlled by that power? Godric was a grown wizard, a strong man with the
ability to restrain himself and to resist the call of darkness. While many of
the students would develop into great witches and wizards, those who would have
the strength of mind to be able to resist all temptation were few and far
between. There was only a few in each generation and not all were tested. Snape
had the ability but it would only manifest in certain circumstances and the
circumstances in which Snape could stand strong were gone so he was a hollow
man and those who knew how to take advantage of that, would.
       The Sorting Hat sighed. It really did need another look into a few
minds. Somewhere, someone knew more than they should but if they were a pawn or
the master, that remained to be seen.
       So much had changed, yet so much remained the same. The Hat just was not
sure at the moment, which was which.
 
 
***** Uncertainty is the Beginning *****
Weapon
Chapter 24 Uncertainty is the Beginning
===
       Remus looked up at the night sky as he tested the locks. The moon had
not yet risen, but he gave a feral grin anticipating that tonight would be the
last time he feared it. Gideon was with him, but the Death Eater werewolf was
keeping his distance. While Remus had kept his word, Gideon was still a bit
skittish about being with someone who he expected to turn him in. It had been a
challenge to keep the Death Eater undetected, but Lupin was a man of his word
and as soon as the full moon was over they would leave for the Gathering.
       He would have liked either Sirius or Harry here. But there were both
political and practical reasons they could not be. Well... Lupin smiled again,
perhaps there were no political reasons, but the practical still held sway.
While Remus had every confidence in the charm that had been cast, if anything
did go wrong he would prefer for it to go wrong when both Sirius and Harry were
well away from any damage he may cause. They would claim that they could help
him, but Lupin knew better. If something went wrong then there would be nothing
anyone could do but watch, and he would never willingly allow either of them to
watch.
       "Pack Leader?" Gideon called out to him softly.
       "Yes?" Remus turned away from gazing at the stars, looking deep into the
Shadows where Gideon was curled up.
       The other werewolf looked uncertain for a moment. He was nervous about
undergoing the change in an unfamiliar environment with company. He knew that
Remus was a fellow werewolf and so couldn't be hurt by his werewolf form, but
knowing did not dampen fear. And fear had been drummed into werewolves from the
time they were known. The punishments handed out by the Ministry tended to be
swift and final.
       "Are you... do you really think that the charm will work?" Gideon asked
in a rush.
       "Ah," Remus murmured, understanding. He glanced towards the horizon
where the moon would rise before he replied further. "I usually use a potion,
Wolfsbane, to avoid losing my human mind, but the person who brews that for me
is currently not in the right frame of mind so I haven't taken it."
       Gideon looked both hopeful and depressed. "So you have never tried this
charm?"
       "No," Remus said with a smile, turning back to the Death Eater.
"However, I have every faith that it will work. Remember, the charm is
something that works on desire. I want to retain my human mind, therefore I
shall. That's how this charm works."
       "But what if you don't?"
       "Then it won't matter. You and I will spend our time together as
werewolves and in the morning we will leave for the Gathering."
       The Death Eater werewolf looked down, thinking.
       Lupin sighed. "Gideon," he said quietly. "It's not as good as you think,
keeping your mind during the change. Keeping your mind just allows you to see
how much damage you could do, how many people you could turn. In many ways it's
easier just to give in to the animal because then you won't know. It's
different when you actually know."
       Gideon shook his head. "That would be fine, but as far as the Ministry
is concerned, you are held responsible for your actions, whether you remember
them or not, whether you had control or not. I've been in werewolf form on
attack nights for the Dark Lord. I've bitten innocents. I don't know who or how
many. I've forced myself not to care because I consoled myself with the
knowledge that there was nothing I could do. But now you are telling me that
it's wrong, that there were, there are alternatives? How am I meant to go on
now?"
       The elder werewolf took a deep breath and released it slowly. "I cannot
help you with all of that Gideon. Even if you didn't know there was a potion,
you chose to be a werewolf unchained and to allow the Dark Forces to herd you
into attack. That is something you will have to deal with. What you know now is
that there will be alternatives if the Werewolves take the offer that has been
given to them, and what will matter from then on is if you allow yourself to be
used as a weapon even with your human mind. The charm may depend on will but
the Potion has none of that weakness. Then it really will be your choice.
       "This offer does not stop us fighting Gideon. The power behind this
offer wants our services in one battle and I rather suspect they will only want
those who can keep their minds in werewolf form. Then Gideon, the choice to
fight will be personal."
       Remus would have said more but he felt a familiar twinge pass through
his bones, a twinge that was echoed by Gideon as he stiffened. Moonrise.
       "Are you ready?" Remus forestalled further conversation by asking the
question.
       Gideon gasped. Already the pain of transformation was effecting him.
"No," he grated out the answer. "But I will be okay," he added, snarling as his
teeth began to elongate.
       Whether it was because Remus had been a werewolf longer, or because he
was accustomed to maintaining himself, he wasn't affected as badly in the early
stages. He looked towards the rising moon, focusing his thoughts on Sirius. He
had found the easiest way of going through the transformation was to think of
his friends and to remember the joyful surprise he had all those years ago when
they had appeared by his side in their animagus forms to help him through
everything.
       Tonight though, Remus focused on how much more fun they could have had
if he had of been able to keep his human mind. They had roamed the forest
freely but they could have roamed with purpose, could have found every little
secret within it. A soft smile graced his features as Lupin considered the
possibilities. He didn't even feel his teeth lengthening into fangs or his
bones shifting beneath his skin, some elongating, some contracting, as they
forced his body into that of a wolf.
       For anyone observing, it would appear that two werewolves were changing
into their animal form with the rise of the full moon, but for those who could
see magic, one of the transformations was markedly different. Around Lupin's
head was a band of light that was almost like a crown. Running down his neck
from the back of it were six ribbons of light. Two ran over his shoulders and
down his arms ending in bracelets around his wrists, another two traversed
their way down his spine before flaring out with his hips and running down his
legs to circle his ankles and the last two traced their way under his arms,
crossing over his chest and running over his belly to disappear under his
groin. They formed a human shape on the wolf he was becoming and as the
transformation was complete, Remus raised his muzzle and howled in triumph!
       There had been pain, but the charm had been far more effective than he
dreamed possible... Or... Remus laughed, the sound odd from the wolf's
throat... The more powerful the person casting the charm, the better it was and
Lupin would lay down any money that Harry had been the one to cast it on him.
Sirius would have done his best, but Prongs Junior was far more powerful and
had more of a vested interest in ensuring the charm's efficacy. No matter how
it happened though, he was completely in control of the wolf.
       There came a snarl from beside him and Remus turned. Gideon was fully
transformed as well and like most wolves, he had sensed the threat of another
male and was attempting to assert his dominance. The response was instinctual,
and Remus didn't even think about it as he snarled in reply, his ears pinning
themselves back as he bared his teeth at the other werewolf. The fur on his
neck raised and he dug his claws into the ground.
       The werewolf Gideon seemed stunned and almost yelped as he recognised
the superior wolf. Remus' snarl softened slightly as the other werewolf backed
away, and lowered himself to the ground in submission. There was only one pack
leader here.
       Satisfied, Remus turned his attention inward. He could still feel the
wolf within him and the instincts were strong and would help in controlling
this form. What did he know about running on four legs for example? The wolf
did and that information was unconsciously there for him to call upon, but
control lay with his human mind.
       Some people had a romantic notion that all a werewolf had to do to
maintain control during their transformation was to accept the wolf and to bond
with it or something like that. Remus snorted. Some people were idiots who had
no idea what it really meant to be a werewolf. You could accept the wolf within
you all you wanted, Fenrir was a brilliant example of acceptance, but that did
not grant control. It was an animal. It had an animal's instincts and desires
and those were simple; eat, survive, procreate. For werewolves that didn't mean
sex, that meant bite which was why they were considered so dangerous. Even if
you were a werewolf like Fenrir, with a human side that desired and embraced
the wolf, that did not lead to any greater control. It was simple; a werewolf
on the night of the full moon was an animal. Without WolfsBane potion there was
no escaping that.
       Though perhaps now there was.
       Inwardly, Remus smiled. Even before he knew who the Shadow Lord was he
had been convinced that the werewolves should follow that course of action. The
effectiveness of the charm was just something he could use to convince the
others. The Dark Lord was seductive and tempting, the Ministry was order but
unlikely, and the Shadows were unknown, It was time to step out of the expected
paths and to take the unknown route because that was the one that gave them
true light at the end of the tunnel.
===
       Harry awoke with a start. His breathing was heavy and the remains of a
nightmare retreated into his subconscious. It had been a while since he had a
nightmare and usually he could recall them without any problem. Years of
dreaming about Voldemort meant that he could recall all the gory details, but
this was different. This had faded quickly leaving him with the impression of
fear.
       He didn't like the feeling. It made him feel sick in the back of his
throat. Harry tried to focus his attention on something else, drawing deep
breaths as he sought to calm himself. He rolled over, cracking open the
curtains on his four poster bed to look over towards one of the windows. Dawn
was beginning to lighten the sky so it was almost time to get up. With a sigh,
Harry shook the last of the nightmare away from him and swung his legs over. If
sleep was escaping him then he should make a virtue of the fact he was awake
and get up. He had a lot to do today, anyway.
       Green eyes blinked in the thin grey light and he grabbed a towel as he
headed towards the bathroom for a shower. :How did Remus go last night?: Harry
asked the Shadows that were everywhere.
       :Perfectly,: they replied. :Though he did work out that it was you who
cast the charm,: they added with a slight laugh.
       Red lips twitched with a smile. Remus was not stupid though he often
didn't get a chance to show his full intelligence as circumstance seemed to
conspire against him. :That doesn't matter,: Harry dismissed the matter. :Have
you found Xuld or the others yet?:
       The Shadows seemed to sigh. :We think so,: they said but they did not
sound sure.
       :Where?: Harry demanded, stepping under the hot water.
       :Where do you think?: his servants sounded disgusted. :The Malfoy
Mansion.:
       :I take it Narcissa was the Malfoy who should have been watched?:
       :Probably.:
       Harry was silent for a while as he bathed, ducking his head under the
spray to wash his hair. As he turned off the water he looked back towards the
Shadow that was up in the corner of the ceiling. :You can get around most
wizards or witches, so why can't you get through whatever defences the Malfoy
Mansion has?:
       The Shadows growled softly, but Harry could tell they were not annoyed
at him. :She's a halfling,: they said.
       :A halfling?: Harry asked as the dried himself, rubbing the towel
through his hair before wrapping it around his waist and heading back to the
dorm.
       :You have the potential to be a full tenshi, master but she is a
halfling and we are annoyed at ourselves for not knowing this earlier. We would
have never allowed her to gain such power if we had known.:
       :You can't know everything,: Harry said comfortingly. :And you can't
watch everyone all the time.:
       :We are meant to watch the players better. We had no idea she was a
halfling until she visited Ollivander.:
       :And what does Ollivander have to do with this?: Harry pulled on his
robes before heading down to the common room. As expected, it was empty and he
shook the last of the water out of his hair as he savoured the quiet.
       :The wandmaker is a tenshi, a full blooded one. He will not be involved
because his job is to watch.:
       :Watch?:
       :His job is to watch wizards for the tenshi. Some like yourself can
affect their world so they watch. They only act to protect their interests.:
       :Ah,: Harry nodded as he exited the Fat Lady's portrait, intent on
heading down to the Quidditch pitch. It was one of the few places in the school
he felt comfortable. He knew that it was not safe but it was away from the
hundreds of portraits that could watch his every move, his every expression. It
shouldn't bother him, not when he had a spy in his mind, but it did and the
solitude was comforting. Besides, this morning he had to arrange the Quidditch
try outs. :So the tenshi are one of those groups who don't interfere so long as
you leave them alone?:
       :That is correct. They have no interest in this world, so long as this
world is not a danger to them.:
       :That doesn't make sense,: Harry objected as he summoned some parchment
and began to write out a plan for the try outs. :Didn't you say that you were
going to ask a tenshi to...: he trailed off. :Well, you know.:
       The darkness around Harry seemed to quiver as the Shadows chuckled. :
Individuals can be asked to do things,: they began explaining. :But for the
tenshi to act as a whole, that would take a direct threat. They will watch you
master, because you could be a direct threat to them but they will not pre-empt
a strike. That goes against centuries of their history.:
       Harry nodded as he considered. It sounded fine but in practice was it
that simple? :I'm not sure how I feel about that,: he said. :I don't like the
thought of a threat over my head, especially one that is not going to go away.:
       :We know,: the Shadows sighed, :but for the moment there is nothing we
can do. We are watching Ollivander and if the tenshi move, they will require
his assistance so we will not be taken unaware again.:
       :Okay,: the black haired boy conceded, :though if they learn about my
animagus form, would they ask me to join?:
       The Shadows were silent for a moment. :We don't think so, though... that
is something we had not considered... With that form, you are more of a threat
to them than any wizard could ever be. We will need to think on this,: the
Shadow's said finally, their voice echoing with speculation.
       :So long as I can see them coming, that will be enough,: Harry said
firmly. :On a different topic though, where are we with Narcissa, and what does
her being a halfling do for us? Will her full blooded parent interfere?: He
asked, bringing the topic back to something they could act upon.
       :It means we have to wait for her to show a weakness or an opening, then
we crush her and her brat and if her parent objects, then we crush them as
well.:
       Harry laughed aloud. "That I can do," he said easily, folding the
finished plans and pulling out his Firebolt. "I've got time for a quick fly
before breakfast, don't I?"
       :Yep,: the Shadows said happily. :We will watch Narcissa for a way past
her, and we will watch Ollivander. If the tenshi think they can take you
unaware, then they will find out exactly how much of a threat we are.:
===
       Hermione sat in the Common Room, notes from the first days of class
spread around her. She suspected Harry was already awake, but Ron wouldn't be
up for a while which was fine with her. She needed to think.
       Over summer she had told Ron that they needed to support Harry this
year, no matter what... Which was all well and good but now she was beginning
to see what 'no matter what' actually meant. She was a perceptive witch and she
prided herself on being one of the most intelligent witches of their year
level. She knew she had a penchant to rely on books a little too much, but she
was a Muggle born, what else was she meant to do to find out information the
Purebloods just thought was common place? And she knew that she was accused of
blindly obeying authority, but again the authorities of the wizarding world
were going to be what decided her future in this world and young she may be,
but she knew they had long memories.
       And that was why that "no matter what" was weighing heavily on her.
       After seeing the way Harry handled himself during and after the train
attack, she could see that his power had been developed over the summer, and
his very quick explanation the other day about why he was taking every class
just reinforced that. His results hadn't been announced but she knew they would
be close to perfect. She'd been jealous for a moment before she remembered the
pain that it cost for Harry to get his knowledge... She was still slightly
jealous. Not enough to envy him but ... it was hard to know why but Hermione
knew herself well enough to know that there was still a tiny bud of jealousy
there. Who wouldn't feel that way? No matter how it had happened, Harry had all
the knowledge of one of the greatest wizards of the time... Admittedly one of
the greatest Dark Wizards but still it was a lot of knowledge.
       Bemused, Hermione shook her head. This was not what she wanted to think
about.
       Sometime this year, they would be called upon to show that they would
support Harry 'no matter what' and she wasn't entirely sure if she could do it.
       They'd been back at school for less than a week but already she could
see that Harry was not quite the boy... man she remembered. That 'no matter
what' may lead to places she wasn't sure she was ready to travel. Last year she
would have said that Harry would support the Ministry... no, that wasn't right
either... He would support the Order of the Phoenix completely... This year she
wasn't so sure. He obviously knew what path he was going to follow, no matter
what his friends decided. He'd made that clear enough with the way he'd spoken
to Ron. It was not up to them to decide.
       Hermione sighed softly. She really needed more information. She wanted
to follow Harry. He was her friend. He was one of her first friends... but she
wasn't sure she could follow him without at least knowing which path he was on.
Even if the destination was unknown, she wanted to know which path.
       She nodded to herself, feeling calmer as she worked out what was
bothering her. That was it. Harry was her friend. She hoped he would always be
her friend and she would accompany him on his path but she wanted to know which
path it was that they travelled. If it meant going against the Ministry, if it
meant going against authority then that was okay, so long as she knew that.
       :And if it means siding with the Dark Lord...?:
       Hermione froze. She held herself so still her hair quivered.
       That was not her voice.
       Cautiously she looked around, not moving her head as she flicked her
eyes over everything in the common room. There were a few Gryffindors who had
come down, but they were engrossed in what they were doing. They hadn't
whispered to her. She looked upwards, there was no one stuck to the ceiling
though the shadows there did seem darker than she remembered, but that was
probably the morning light. And she looked down but again no one was there and
she could not sense anyone behind her.
       So who had whispered the words?
       She'd told Harry in their second year that hearing voices was something
that was not considered good either in Muggle or wizarding society. That
applied to her as well. There was no one in range that she could see who could
have whispered to her. What did that leave?
       Brown eyes closed as she considered. If there was no one she could see
that left three options. The first was someone under an invisibility cloak, the
second was a spell or charm or something that allowed the person to speak to
her, like a patronus, and the third was that she really was hearing voices.
       None of the other students had invisibility cloaks, they were simply too
expensive and Harry only had his at school because he had everything of his at
school. She didn't think it was Harry or even Ron under the cloak and why would
they whisper such a thing to her... 'siding with the Dark Lord...' Not funny as
a joke.
       If it was a spell or a charm that wasn't the Patronus, she would have to
research that. She'd always assumed that people used their patronus to convey
messages to others because there was no other reliable charm and it guaranteed
the message's authenticity. Though that did lead to a fourth option, perhaps
the twins had invented something. Something that whispered would be up their
alley, so to speak. She'd ask Ron about that later, and if necessary, make
other inquiries while she researched for another charm which had similar
affects because right at the moment, she wasn't prepared to accept she was
hearing voices.
       No matter what they were telling her.
       But what if it's true? That thought was her own, and it lingered.
===
       :Master,: the Shadows interrupted Harry.
       The Shadow Lord continued writing as if there was nothing amiss. :What
is it?: He asked silently.
       :We think we may have screwed up,: they said softly.
       :That's unusual. What happened?: If they thought they had mucked up then
it was potentially the end of the world given how carefully his servants played
the game usually, but perhaps it was only something small and could be fixed
easily.
       :We tried to give one of your friends a nudge.:
       Harry almost chuckled. He knew which friend they referred to already. :
And she noticed you?: He asked, pre-empting any further explanation.
       :Yes,: they said morosely. :Though she is currently researching options
as to what the 'voice that whispered to her' might be.:
       :She isn't the brightest witch of our generation for nothing,: Harry
told the Shadows kindly.
       The Shadows gave off a feeling of mild annoyance. :We were noticing
that,: they said somewhat snidely. Most wizards or witches just heard their
voice and assumed it was their subconscious. That's how they had gotten away
for so long with just pushing the players into position, with the players
believing all the time that they were making their own decisions. It was rare
that someone, Muggle or magical, was so in touch with themselves that they
could immediately ascertain that it was not their subconscious. Obviously, over
time some people got to that point, but by then most didn't care, they were too
happy with the advice they were getting to give it up and usually came up with
some other explanation to justify why they were listening to the Shadows.
       :It's all right,: Harry assured them after a moment. :When she
eventually comes to me, I'll just laugh and say that I was waiting for them to
notice you guys and then we will have formal introductions. That should be okay
and we can pass it off as you merely playing, trying to be noticed. You've made
the suggestion now to her anyway, and that's not going to go away, no matter
whom or what suggested it. Even if she doesn't consciously think about it, I
know Hermione. She'll remember and all unknowingly; she'll be looking for
evidence. For now, unless she truly comes to the conclusion that it was
something else, hold off talking to her. Though perhaps be a bit more attentive
around me?:
       Darkness laughed, and Harry smiled at his servants. Even if it was only
around his friends, who would eventually, hopefully be brought into his
confidence, the Shadows were still masters of the game. Perhaps that was why
victory was always theirs as there was no such thing as a battle that was not
taken seriously.
       Harry would do well to remember that for this year.
===
       Ginny smiled at Harry as he paced on the Quidditch pitch. She'd been a
little worried in the first few days of the year when he had been distant but
as he had said in his letters he wanted to start again, so while it chafed, she
was patient. It was the little things that were beginning to make a difference.
For example, he was sitting with her at meals. Ron, Hermione and Neville also
sat with them, but Harry made the point to either sit beside her or directly
across from her.
       They were talking too. Not as boyfriend and girlfriend but as friends,
which was nice and, Ginny conceded, the ability to talk as friends was more
important for the long run than the ability to exchange sweet nothings. If she
wanted Harry to stay with her or to accept her as well as the Dark Lord, then
she had to be more than a bit of fluff he snogged when he felt like it. They
had to be friends and it was obvious to her that he wanted his friends to stay
with him for the future. He wouldn't be here, wasting time in classes
otherwise.
       As far as she could tell, Harry had been to most of his classes and even
to a few special ones that he had picked up over the summer. When Ron had
voiced a rather careful complaint, Harry had merely laughed and told Ron that
he could come if he wanted but since the class was about bladed weapons with
Snape, he really didn't think the other man wanted to spend more time with the
Potion Master. Ron had demanded why Harry was spending time with the man, and
Harry had just reminded them that he had gotten all of Voldemort's knowledge
and that included his sword and hand to hand techniques, so he was using them
too. There had been a smirk on Harry's face as he'd said the rest, that Snape
didn't like the Dark Lord's techniques because they were crude. Even Ron had
laughed at that and had let Harry get to his extra classes.
       She was a bit nervous, standing in the crowd with the others who were
trying out for the Quidditch team. Gryffindor desperately needed to replace
people since most of the team had graduated and she'd decided to try out for a
place as a Chaser despite the fact that she usually played Seeker for her
brothers. No one was trying for Seeker since everyone knew that was Harry's
spot. There were a few people trying for any position though, including Keeper.
Last year's Keeper, the now Fourth Year Oswald Richards, had simply laughed
welcoming the competition. He wanted the team to be the best team it could be,
even if that meant he was only a reserve Keeper. Harry actually wanted the team
to be bigger than it was in Woods' day and to have reserves so that the next
Captain wasn't faced with replacing close to the entire team.
       "All right, everyone," Harry shouted and the small conversations faded.
"Let's do this by the book. You all know Gryffindor needs to replace most of
its team, but I'm also not Wood, I want to have a reserve team, so if you don't
make the actual team do not worry, You have a chance to make the reserves and
that will give you the practice you need. We are going to do the try outs in
this order, Chasers, Keeper, Beaters and then Seeker and I don't care if you
decide to show up for more than one position's try out.
       "Those trying out for Keeper, go over there," Harry pointed, indicating
a section of the pitch near the goals. "Those trying out for Chasers, go over
there." Once again Harry pointed, this time towards the middle of the pitch,
though perhaps a bit towards the north-facing goals. "Beater try outs are over
there." This time Harry indicated the middle of the pitch towards the south-
facing goals. "Seeker try outs are there," Harry indicated the end of the
pitch.
       "It will take some time to get through each try out so please be
patient. Do some warm-up flying if you want, but don't get in the way of the
other try outs."
       Harry paused for a moment. "One last thing," he said and his voice
showed his seriousness. "If you make the team, I expect you to be on the team.
That means you will make time for the practices and you will give it everything
you have. If everyone is clear on that, then let's begin."
       There was a small cheer as people began moving to where Harry had
indicated. Ginny moved confidently with the others, but she was a bit surprised
when Harry grabbed her arm gently and pulled her aside for a moment.
       "Try out for Seeker too," Harry whispered to her, so the others would
not hear. "There might be times when I'm not here and I don't want us to
forfeit. Now give me a hug and pretend I was just telling you to be careful."
Harry smiled and quickly embraced her, something Ginny returned whole heartedly
before they split and she continued to walk towards the gathered Chasers for
the try out with a much lighter heart.
===
       Dumbledore set the last candle down to Fawkes' specification before he
sat at his desk. Fawkes hopped about the office for a few moments,
investigating the set of the candles and occasionally nudging one with his beak
into a better position before he returned to his perch. The Phoenix had been
insistent upon these candles and if Fawkes had of been human Dumbledore would
have called him twitchy about this. Still the precautions were probably
warranted. Dumbledore wasn't sure. The information he'd been able to find was
sketchy at best, so he had deferred to his Phoenix's experience.
       :Have you got all your protections in place?: there came a whispered
question and Dumbledore followed Fawkes' line of sight to spot the Shadow that
was now on the ceiling. Fawkes' eyes burned with his natural fire but the way
he was holding himself showed his dislike of the Shadows. :All those
protections are not necessary, you know,: the Shadow continued. :I won't hurt
you. Why would I hurt you?: it questioned. :I can only hurt you if my Master
wants me to hurt you and by all of this are you suggesting that young Harry
wants to hurt you?: the Shadow laughed slightly as it flowed down the wall,
darkening the light from the candles before it took up a position in front of
Dumbledore's desk.
       "That only works if Mr. Potter is your master," Xeoaph's voice echoed
from the far side of the office.
       The Shadow showed no signs of movement or surprise at the Vampire's
presence.
       :I know what you are trying to believe, Vampire, that we are creatures
who will betray anyone for our desires but what you perceive about us and what
is reality is not linked as closely as you would like.: The Shadow spat the
words. :The one you call Harry Potter is my Master and for the duration of his
life will remain my absolute Master and I am bound by his will and his desires,
even more than you can ever be bound by your creator.:
       Xeoaph snarled and started forward.
       "Enough!" Dumbledore ordered sharply. "This is meant to be a discussion
not a brawl, and I'm sure the both of you will find other opportunities to
discuss the differences between Vampire and Shadows." While his tone held a
note of amusement, it also indicated that they had better have that discussion
after the Dark Lord was deposed. As the Leader of Light, Albus was quite happy
to have dark creatures fight amongst themselves.
       Xeoaph looked to the side, almost like a child prepared to fight
further. "We can discuss the true nature of dark later," the Vampire agreed.
       :Of course,: the Shadow agreed almost serenely. :What did you want?:
       "To talk," the Headmaster said. "There is only myth, legend and
conjecture about you. When we met in the Infirmary, I was surprised you could
talk, but you informed me you could do so much more. I wish to explore that."
       :There is nothing to explore. Everything I do, everything I say,
everything I feel is for the betterment of my Master and I will not act against
that.:
       The Vampire snorted his disbelief but otherwise remained silent.
       The Ancient wizard was patient. He'd dealt with those who didn't really
want to speak to him before and he wasn't sure at the moment if the Shadow
wasn't willing to speak, or just didn't know the right words to tell the
Headmaster what he wanted to know. Either way, Dumbledore expected to get
answers tonight.
       "There may be nothing for you to explore," Albus said, projecting his
kindly grandfather image for all he was worth. He didn't know if he would work
on a Shadow, but it probably wouldn't hurt. "But there is much I do not
understand and that is what I seek to clarify."
       Silently the Shadow applauded Dumbledore. The man was good. He sounded
genuinely interested in merely expanding his knowledge without looking for ways
of controlling them. He sounded like he wanted to help their Master but they
had seen the proof that this was not the case; they would not be blinded by the
wizard's petty explanations of 'for the greater good'. There was no greater
good. There was only what made their Master happy. :I would suggest then that
you ask. My understanding is instinctual, but I will attempt to explain the
aspects of that which you do not understand.:
       Dumbledore sighed beneath his breath. It would appear the Shadow was
going to try to be helpful without telling them anything. He may have to order
Harry to enforce his will upon the Shadows so that they may understand and know
truly who was in control.
       It was Xeoaph that answered though. "Why?" the Vampire demanded. "Why
are you supposedly loyal to your master?"
       :Because Harry is our light. We exist, we always exist and we are the
dark but that existence is hollow. It is only in the times when our Master is
active do we truly live.:
       The Headmaster could see the Vampire twitching at the answer. To the
Shadow the answer was probably reasonable but it missed out some key points,
possibly deliberately or maybe simply because to the Shadow it was assumed
information. "What makes young Mr. Potter your master?" Dumbledore asked. "Why
not James Potter, why not Charles? Why young Harry Potter?"
       :Ah...: the Shadow sighed. :I understand now. You wish to know why so
few of those who bear the power to be our Master, are actually declared and
acknowledged as our Master?:
       Albus nodded, indicating with his eyes that Xeoaph should remain silent
for the moment.
       :The concise answer is pain. The longer and more technical answer has to
do with magical frequencies.:
       "Go on."
       :Each magical being and to some extent each bloodline bears magic of
certain properties. For example, some bloodlines are capable of the animagus
transformation, while others no matter how much they want or desire, they will
never achieve that part of magic. Thus it is with us. The Potter bloodline
bears the correct magical affinity for us. No they are not dark, rather they
are the opposite. Embedded in their magic is light and that is what attracts
us.:
       "It attracts you but does not force you to call them Master," Xeoaph
interrupted. "Why do you call Harry Potter 'Master'?" The Vampire asked the
question, hoping to catch the Shadows in the most basic manner. If they could
not explain why they called Harry Master, then there was very little reason to
believe that the young wizard could control the Shadows and every reason to
believe that the false darkness were just pretending to be subservient.
       :That is where the pain comes in,: the Shadow answered easily. :I do not
mean physical pain. There are other forms of pain.:
       "You expect me to believe that?" Xeoaph snarled.
       :I have no control over what you believe,: the Shadow almost shouted in
return.
       "Enough!" Dumbledore roared again, and then blinked into the silence. He
could almost feel the ancient Vampire sizing him up but he held firm. "My
esteemed Vampire friend does have a point," Albus continued, looking at the
Shadow. "While the Potter bloodline may bear the magical affinity that attracts
you, affinity does not bestow control, yet you have said that young Harry may
and does control you. I believe that is what Xeoaph is asking about."
       The Shadow seemed to condense and Fawkes tensed, though the Headmaster
could almost read in the Phoenix's body language the tell-tale 'I told you so.'
He resisted the urge to shake his head. He would get answers today, one way or
another.
       :You are correct,: the Shadow said finally. :Affinity does not allow
control. Nor does it explain why some of our numbers follow this Dark Lord. I
will try to be more concise. We are creatures of Dark,: the Shadow continued, :
And like all beings we need to eat, but we do not eat food such as you do,
rather we eat our opposite, we eat light. Now I can see the question, why don't
we just eat Mr. Potter and be done with it?: The Shadow seemed to look up at
the Vampire who had opened his mouth to speak but had fallen silent as the
explanation had continued. :We can't. Or rather we can but if we did, we would
die. As we are creatures of Dark, Light is both food and poison to us. We both
crave and somewhat fear it. And again all this tells you nothing about why Mr.
Potter can control us.:
       The Shadow seemed to sigh. :Every now and then, in each bloodline, there
comes one who seems stronger. To take my animagus example, it would be perhaps
someone who can achieve that transformation very young and who seems so
comfortable in their animal form that it's sometimes hard to know which was
meant to be their natural form. Mr. Potter has everything about his bloodline
and he is just that little bit stronger in his ability than his father or
grandfather. He is our Master because within his magic is that spark that
revitalises us. We have always existed. But we have not always been active, and
we have not always been how you see me. Usually we are much more insubstantial.
We exist, but we do not have the power to act, to speak or to be very much at
all. The day Mr. Potter was born that began to change. The day he first used
his magic, we awoke entirely. Between each of those who can be our Master, we
observe, we advise and we sleep. We obey him because without Mr. Potter's
regard, we are nothing.:
       "So why do some of you follow Voldemort?" Dumbledore asked quietly,
aware that the Shadow had explained as best as it could.
       :I don't know though I can offer conjecture.:
       "Go on."
       :We have been asleep for a very long time.:
       "Since Godric?" Xeoaph asked, seeming a bit more at ease with the
Shadow.
       :No, there have been a few Masters since Godric. You just have not known
about them because they didn't do anything. I think that could be part of the
reason some of us are obeying Voldemort, even though he isn't Mr. Potter. The
one you call the Dark Lord is doing something. He is prepared to act, to fight
and to use us and no doubt he is prepared to pay very well for our services.:
       "Yet with what you are saying, if the Dark Lord kills Harry Potter, then
your existence, your will is gone," Xeoaph stated leaving the question
implicit.
       :Yes,: the Shadow agreed. :They may have some way of keeping our Master
safe. It's possible they will allow the Dark Lord to believe he has killed our
Master, while they harbour him. That is something that we could do... Or it's
possible they intend to see that Voldemort succeeds in his seduction. Beyond
that I don't know and the only way I can find out is to be contaminated by
their madness... which is not something I wish to do, not even for my rightful
Master.:
       Dumbledore nodded, feeling more at ease now with the Shadows. He could
see that they were dangerous and would always be dangerous but in so far as the
Shadow had explained, he could also see that they were tied to Harry. That
would have to be tested of course. He wasn't about to take the Shadows
unsubstantiated word for it, but it also meant that in the event of Harry's
death, the Shadows would no longer remain an active player. Not that he wanted
Harry dead. He just wanted to plan for every eventuality.
       Xeoaph also looked a little calmer. The Vampire would never accept the
Shadows; the two would argue forever about which was the true dark, but
Dumbledore could see that the elder Vampire was more tolerant now. The concept
that the Shadows slept between masters probably appealed to him.
===
       :Well, that was interesting,: Harry said silently as he wrote his Charms
essay.
       :Indeed,: the Shadows replied, flickering very gently in the soft light
of the common room. It was late but, there were a few students about, mostly
working on essays as Harry was.
       :Do you think they believed you?:
       :None of it is a lie.:
       :No, but some of it they will ask me,: Harry replied. He was letting his
true self discuss things with the Shadows as Fawkes was currently too busy
discussing what he had heard with Dumbledore and Xeoaph. The Phoenix had
checked on him once or twice that evening, mostly to confirm his location and a
few times to check that he was not 'listening in' as it were. As if Harry would
be that obvious! :They will misinterpret that sleeping bit.:
       The Shadows laughed. :Some of us do sleep though. And our interest in
controlling and in knowing the whole picture is dramatically reduced when we
have no Master. Why would we care about it, when there is no one to share it
with?: They asked the question rhetorically.
       :So you want to know everything so that I can rule the world?:
       :We want to know everything so that nothing can hurt you, though even if
you were like Laharan with no interest in anything beyond using our information
to get into anyone's bed, you would still be our Master.:
       :Why?: Harry demanded, wanting the full answer to the question
Dumbledore and Xeoaph thought they had had answered.
       :Because you know pain.:
       :No,: Harry put down his quill, focusing on the discussion, though to
the other Gryffindors it probably just looked like he was deep in thought. :
That explains how but not why and the how is such that if Father had survived
that night, then you would call him Master and I'd either be dead or his heir.
I want to know why.:
       :Harry, you are our Master because without light there is no dark. We
are not evil, though so many assume us to be, we are Dark. We know that without
light there we cannot exist, but it is also more than that. If the world was
fully dark, it would most likely descend into evil and that is not what we
want. There has to be a balance, both between light and dark and between good
and evil. You are a part of that balance.:
       :No,: Harry said again. :None of that explains why you almost seem
compelled to obey me.:
       :We did not have to obey you,: the Shadows finally admitted. :If we had
ignored your calls then we could have continued as we were, but we did not lie,
you do revitalise us and you have from the moment of your birth. You are our
true Master because you have known pain but we would have still been around you
if you didn't, just we would not be this active, this awake or this powerful.
We would have eaten your radiant light, never your actual light. We obey you
Harry, because when the time came to choose, we chose to appear to you, we
chose to obey you and in doing so we are now compelled. We obey you, Harry,
because you are so powerful, your light gives us the power to do whatever we
want. We want you happy with us because you also have the power to turn us away
and send us back into the half-life we knew. So no, we did not have to obey
you, though you could have compelled some things via your light. Because we
chose though, you can now compel more. If you chose, you could make us into
nothing more than light fearing little whipped spies for you, with no more
thought than doing exactly what you tell us but the only reason you can do that
is that we chose to answer your call initially. It has always been and always
will be about choice but know this always, you are our light, we are your
darkness and we exist in balance.:
       :Thank you,: Harry said after several long moments of silence. He had
never feared that the Shadows would turn on him, but he had not realised how
completely they were bound to him. He had known they were bound to him, that
much he could feel but he had never known he could abuse them the way they
implied. Not that he would ever do that and the knowledge now sickened him and
he could feel snot gathering in the back of his throat.
       :Harry,: one of the Shadows said softly, and he felt a caress against
his cheek. :One of the reasons we did chose to obey you is because we know you
won't do that.: The Shadow seemed to giggle. :You are a good man, never forget
that. You might send us away, that's always a risk, but you won't deliberately
hurt us. You see other witches and wizards and you see them as your fellows,
not something you can use. You see other magical creatures and you see the
good, the humanity in them. Even if they are your enemy, you still respect them
and try not to cause them pain. You do not attack or abuse, though you will
defend. You even see the Muggles, a group most wizards and witches view as a
sub–species, but you don't You see them as human still and you see the almost
unlimited potential they have. There is no reason why we wouldn't have chosen
to obey you.:
       :But I love Lord Voldemort.:
       :Yes,: the Shadow's full voice said. :And you will love him even if he
destroys the world, even if he kills everyone you hold dear because he had
shown you the truth and he has been honest with you. But while you would still
love him, you would not be happy and you would not be with him or willing to
let him rule. You would try to stop him, to reason with him and to show him
that the path of destruction is the path of ruination. Though Master, you also
know, the man your blood resurrected is not the same man who cast the killing
curse against you. By taking your blood and the weak flesh of the traitor, he
has altered somewhat and by taking in Xatarass, he altered further though all
those changes could have been hidden. The day he admitted to himself that you
were his leman, was the day the changes were forever embedded. He wants to
please you as you want to please him, and in that desire lies the ability for
your combined rule.:
       Harry closed his eyes, leaning into the Shadow's caress. :You don't lie,
but you do exaggerate,: he said to them silently. :You mean my rule.:
       The Shadows somehow felt chagrined but unrepentant. :Your rule yes, in
so far as we obey you but you are a sensible Master. If Voldemort truly has a
good idea about something, you aren't going to deny it, simply because it
wasn't your idea. Each of you will temper the other but in the end, for us, you
are our Master. Not him and he is well aware that should you ever desire it, we
would use our power against him. He's already discussed this with us.:
       :I chose a sensible mate.:
       :You did. Sensible in realising your power, but sensible also in
realising that change is what will allow him to survive.:
       Harry was silent for a while as he packed up his parchment and quills.
After he put everything back in his bag he walked slowly up the stairs. :You
give so much to me, yet I feel that I give you so little.:
       :You give us everything, Master. It may seem inconsequential to you, but
it is everything to us. The consumption of light allows us thought, allows us
to suggest and manipulate. That is how we have existed for centuries and how we
exist between Masters. Your light though gives us definition, gives us
intelligence and gives us the ability to act, to do what we want. That is not
something that is little or insubstantial. In return we give you our
information and our service. It makes sense, Master. If we existed as your
power allows us to, but without your guidance, why would we need such power,
such abilities? We don't need to control humans, or wizards or witches, they
cannot hurt us. We do so because they can hurt you and we use the abilities
your power gives us to see that your desires are met because we simply do not
have desires. We have will, but it is you who provides us direction.:
       :All right,: Harry said finally, after he had changed and gotten into
bed. He stared up at the canopy on his bed. The Shadows lined it so he could
not see the red of the fabric. They were also wrapped around him, not tightly
but gently, as if holding him. "I will give you direction," he whispered aloud
closing his eyes as sleep began to creep up on him. "But you may not always
like that direction."
       As their Master fell asleep, the Shadows watched indulgently. He was
young, but he was their Master and he had yet to learn that to them, the
direction mattered very little. For them, there was only one direction and that
was towards their Master. Beyond that... nothing mattered.
 
 
***** Controlled, Not Refined *****
Weapon
Chapter 25 Controlled, Not Refined
===
       The Shadows watched their Master toss and turn. He was dreaming again.
They had tried to soothe him out of his nightmare, but he was still remembering
the past. They had suspected that their Master had recovered too quickly in the
last year. They had hoped that he had recovered but apparently he hadn't.
Xeoaph had given their Master peace when he had sealed the memories for Heprah,
and that had made Harry seem to accept what had happened. He had cried, he had
been angry, but he had recovered. But apparently he hadn't cried enough.
       They watched as tears tracked down his face and he made small sounds of
distress, sounds the Shadows echoed. They did not like to see their Master in
pain.
       :How will this end?: one of them asked.
       One of the other Shadows sighed. :Explosively,: it whispered. :He is
still in pain from his childhood, still angry, and he needs to get that out of
his system. Over the next weeks, or even months, our Master will get more
angry. He will wonder why all that should have happened to him. He may even try
to kill Millicent or Blaise and eventually he will be so angry that he will not
be able to hold himself back. He will stain his wings and we will see if
Voldemort's word is his bond where our Master is concerned.:
       Other Shadows sighed as they continued to watch over Harry. :In the long
run, it's probably for the best,: one of them said regretfully.
       :In the long run, he will learn how to change their colour at will and
so they will not be stained for long.:
       A deeper Shadow appeared then, one that usually spent its time in
Voldemort's stronghold. It was an old Shadow, one that was wise and canny and
knew how to show itself to the ancient Vampire in such a way that it was
completely independent of the others. :We have grown soft as the years have
gone on,: it said, :to be so concerned at seeing our Master in pain.:
       :His distress is our distress,: one of the others said.
       :And his release is our food,: the elder Shadow responded. :He will grow
stronger from this pain, and we will grow stronger with him. The fact that his
pain distresses us merely proves that we have chosen the right Master. If we
could, we would destroy his pain and we will protect him, just as he will
protect us.:
       :How are the prisoners?: another Shadow asked, resolutely turning away
from Harry as he tossed and turned.
       :In pain,: the elder Shadow replied.
       :It is not enough. It will never be enough.:
       :No, it won't,: the elder Shadow agreed before it sighed heavily. :
Lamenting our inability to properly extract revenge is not today's problem, and
it is a problem we should probably put aside since the statement is true; it
will never be enough.:
       :We will deal with them in time or as the issues arise,: another Shadow
agreed. :For now the question of how we relate to our Master is of importance.:
       :He understands now why we need him but at the same time, his light is
still too much for us.:
       :It has never been a problem in the past.:
       :Well, it is this time. How are we meant to work with a Master we can't
feed from? And it's not that he's unwilling. There is more than enough food for
us.:
       :Food that causes us pain to try to eat it.:
       The elder Shadow settled down next to Harry, casting darkness where none
should exist. The close proximity seemed to calm Harry slightly, though the
Shadow was aware that nothing would really help until their Master struck out
in his anger. After that he would heal and they would be there to help him.
Until then, he would suffer through his memories, though the Shadows would do
what they could to help him.
       :We are being foolish,: the elder Shadow said abruptly.
       :What?: The others exclaimed.
       :We are being foolish,: the Shadow repeated. :We talk about balance, we
talk about sharing, we say that our Master is our Light, yet here we are,
afraid of that Light when it has done nothing to harm us, when our Master
wields it for us and wants us to eat. Thus we are being fools!
       :For us to exist, there must be Light. We cannot eat it all, yet that is
what we are trying to do. All we need do is remember. We are the Dark, he is
the Light. We do not need to eat it all; we need to flow with it. He told us
accept it without consuming it; let his Light flow with us to complement our
darkness...:
       :Do not fight our Master's Light, because it is our companion,: one of
the other Shadows finished as it recalled the words.
       :So,: the elder Shadow said wisely. :We move with it, we flow with it,
we cast shadows where shadows should fall, we let the light shine where it
should and all the while we eat what we can and as our tolerance and ability
grows, so will our appetite and so will our meal.:
       :Not if he stains his wings,: one of the Shadows objected.
       :Even if he stains his wings,: another retorted. :I don't think it's
possible for him to stain his wings and even if he did, I doubt they would be
stained for long. If he does though, or even if he pretends, he will learn and
mature; thus will his light mature and be all the better for us.:
       :He is the Light,: the elder Shadow agreed, :thus it is simply a matter
of acceptance.:
       As Harry continued to toss and turn, his face strained with his memories
and the nightmare that plagued him, the other Shadows settled around him,
offering what comfort they could. To anyone watching it would appear that the
dark haired young man was surrounded in a thick warm blanket. To Harry, it felt
like someone was holding him, not like the men had held him, but how Voldemort
had held him, a warm soft embrace that would release him if he desired but
would support him always. It couldn't stop his memories and it couldn't stop
his anger or fear, but it did let him know, he was not alone. Never again would
he be alone. He glowed with that knowledge, despite everything else and the
Shadows ate the light greedily, allowing the stronger pieces to move around
them, and through them, bending them back so that they helped to support their
Master.
       One of the Shadows gave the impression of a smile. :How did we get such
a good Master?: it asked rhetorically.
===
       Ragnok looked out at the floor of Gringotts. He was taking a very
uncharacteristic break. His staff were going about their business efficiently,
dealing with the witches and wizards and few other creatures who kept their
gold in this facility. Gringotts was secure, and Gringotts was the only bank
never to have had a successful robbery committed against them. That one a few
years back failed, since there was nothing stolen. Over the years, the Goblins
themselves had made sure of their reputation, discretely robbing other
facilities when they dared to try to establish themselves.
       The magical world didn't need a choice about where to store their gold.
It just led to confusion. And wizards and witches didn't need anything else to
confuse them. Sometimes, in the dark privacy of their deepest chambers, the
goblins wondered how exactly such an illogical and fractured group rose to be
the dominant magical force. But that wasn't a question which was bothering
Ragnok now. He was more concerned with the deductions that appeared on the
tally sheets.
       They had been expecting some deductions. The Ministry, in an effort to
show that it was considerate of non-humans had discretely informed Gringotts of
the situation at Azkaban. From that, the Goblins had known that it was likely
that at least some of the freed Death Eaters would be coming to access their
vaults. No matter what they did, they would need funding. A generous estimate
had been made of the likely deductions and that had been worked into the bank's
operation. What they had not expected was that some of the ex-prisoners would
withdraw the entire balance from their accounts.
       It was completely illogical. They were on the run and anyone who
captured them or took their possessions would and could claim that it belonged
to them and no one would gainsay them. The goblins had looked, discretely of
course, at the possibility of liberating the gold but the ex-prisoners had
portkeyed to a neutral location before they had portkeyed again to somewhere
untraceable. If it was some of the smaller vaults, that wouldn't have mattered.
Gringotts made that amount of gold each minute but no, these were some of the
premium vaults, the deep security ones and Ragnok knew exactly where the gold
was going.
       The Dark Lord. Fighting a war was not cheap, even if you didn't have to
pay your troops. The goblins had found that out themselves a few times in the
past. The wizards were fools to believe that all of those treaties were the
result of the 'desire for peace.' More like they were the desire for food. Not
every goblin commander had grasped the finer points of war time economics.
Their descendants did understand, which was why they were now the preeminent
bank in the entire wizarding world. There were a few, small competitors in
other places. Ragnok believed it was the policy of Gringotts America to allow
one or two localised institutions to continue to function for competition
reasons or some such illogical wizard imposed necessity. The next time they
rose, there would not be much rebellion.
       In the meantime though, Ragnok was honest enough with himself to admit
that this particular Dark Lord did understand economics well, perhaps not as
well as one of the goblin investors but well enough to survive. He understood
why the Dark Lord needed the money, but what he did not like was the indent it
would make and had made in Gringotts cash flows.
       There came a timid knock on his office door and he knew that it was one
of the floor goblin bankers coming to tell him that another high security vault
was to be emptied. Even if they were Death Eaters, and freed prisoners,
Gringotts couldn't deny them access to their vaults, not without declaring
their support from the wizarding Ministry. Right at the moment, Ragnok didn't
really care if that was the cost. The price of emptying these vaults was
already too high, and the payment, of actually watching the prisoners having to
'fit in' with their fellows, and therefore to at least be civil, while
entertaining, was not enough.
       "Which one is it?" Ragnok asked, not bothering to open the door as he
returned to his desk and the tally sheets.
       "L... L... LeStrange."
       Ragnok closed his eyes. To the eight hells with neutrality! They needed
that gold. Well, not so much the LeStrange gold but accumulated knick knacks of
centuries. The LeStrange vault was a treasure trove for those who knew what to
look for. It had weapons, charmed objects, gems and pearls that were the stuff
of legend. While it was not the biggest account Gringotts held, it was one of
the vaults with the most interesting contents and that had rated its security
setting. In terms of wealth, other vaults such as the Potter or the Malfoy
vaults dwarfed the LeStrange vault but in terms of one of a kind, mysterious
and powerful objects, only the Black vault came close.
       "Stall Rodolphus as much as you can," Ragnok instructed. Even if they
were escaped prisoners, they couldn't deny the LeStrange's the right to their
vault, the rest of the illogical wizards would object, but they could make it
difficult.
       "It's Bellatrix," the goblin underling said, through the door.
       "Then that's even simpler," Ragnok said, feeling happier. "She doesn't
have the right to empty the LeStrange vault."
       "She says she does, Overseer."
       Ragnok sighed. "Where is she?" His underlings seemed to have decided
that he needed to deal with this witch. He knew her by reputation but how
difficult was it to tell her no? She might threaten but they had guards to deal
with that situation.
       "She is in the private office."
       Ragnok could hear the note of relief and growled to himself. There would
be punishments given to all the floor staff for this day's work. "Go back to
your duties, I will see her," he said, ignoring the way his underling scurried
away. Ragnok pulled a comb from one draw and quickly ran it through his hair.
Goblins didn't give a hoot about appearance but wizards, even escaped ones,
did. He put the comb away and pulled on his coat before summoning two
discretely armed guards to accompany him to see Bellatrix LeStrange.
       He paused outside the office and looked in on the witch. She appeared
relatively well dressed, though she was thin and her hair was messy. For a
woman not long out of an extended stay in Azkaban, she was in very good
condition. The Dark Lord was obviously not stinting on the restoratives for his
followers. Like him she had two guards, though hers were fully robed and hooded
and were standing very still in one corner. Ragnok snorted. They were probably
new recruits who were too afraid to move and if anything happened he had full
confidence in his guards.
       With a small shake of his head for full theatrical effect he swept into
the office. "I am sorry, Madam LeStrange," he began, "I do not know why my
underlings could not deal with such a simple matter."
       "Perhaps you need new underlings."
       "Perhaps," Ragnok echoed without feeling. "How may I help you today?"
The phrase was not natural on his tongue.
       "I am here to claim the LeStrange vaults," the witch before him said
airily, though there was the hint of steel in her tone.
       "As I'm sure was explained to you, Madam, you have every right to access
the vaults, but you may not claim them."
       "I do."
       "Madam," Ragnok began, as if explaining to a small child. "The primary
holder of the LeStrange vault is your husband, Rodolphus LeStrange. With the
correct authorisations, his brother Rabastan may also claim the vault. As
Rodolphus' wife, you have full access to them but they remain in his name."
       Bellatrix looked amused. "All of that is very correct, except for the
fact that I am the holder of the vault now, for you see, my dearest husband and
his brother did not survive the leaving of Azkaban."
       Ragnok sat back with a shock, lifting the parchment that dealt with the
LeStrange vault in his small hands. The Ministry had not told them that.
Though, he considered, the Ministry may not know that. They had reported that
every person on Azkaban had been released and the wardens had been taken as
well. They may not know that some of them had not survived. And if the
LeStrange brothers had not survived then Bellatrix was the new holder of the
vault... The only problem with that were Gringotts records. Each major account
holder was required to give a small drop of blood on the account parchment.
Goblin magic ensured that the blood glowed red while that wizard or witch was
still alive. Both Rodolphus and Rebastan's blood spots were still red.
       "I'm afraid notification of their untimely demise had not yet reached
us," Ragnok said with a degree of diplomacy.
       The witch smiled and it was not a pretty sight. "So, if I can show proof
of my husband and brothers conditions, then the vault will transfer according
to your records?"
       If she could show that, then the vault would be legitimately hers and
Ragnok would be having a meeting with the spell casters to know why the blood
was still red. It may be that the Azkaban wards had interfered, but they never
had in the past. "That would be acceptable."
       Bellatrix snapped her fingers and the two body guards who had been
quietly standing in the corner moved. They seemed to uncoil and there was an
icy blast of air in the office. Gooseflesh raised on Ragnok's arms but he
showed no other reaction as her guards became impossibly tall. His own guards
tensed and suddenly Ragnok was less sure of their ability as a wind seemed to
rustle Bellatrix's guards' robes, bringing the stench of decay upon them all.
       He wasn't sure how they transformed or if an illusion had just been
lifted but Ragnok was confronted by the bone deep chill of two Dementors who
now hovered near the door. Each Dementor held a body and it took the goblin
overseer a moment to determine that the bodies were Rodolphus and Rebastan
LeStrange. They were badly emaciated, more so than he would have thought caused
by Azkaban, especially given the relatively healthy picture presented by
Bellatrix. Their heads lolled and they drooled but they were still breathing.
It was a rather stupid thought, but at least the blood magic was working as it
was meant to.
       "Ah," Ragnok said, showing surprising delicacy for a goblin. "You are
not the holder of the vault, because your husband is still alive," he heard
himself say.
       "Alive, perhaps, but hardly in control of his facilities, nor will he
ever be. In that situation, I become the head of the LeStrange House and as the
Head of the House I control the vault," her voice was controlled and
reasonable, more so than Ragnok would have thought given her reputation.
       "The Ministry will have to be told."
       Bellatrix smiled. "It matters little to me. I will go to my vault now,"
she rose, gesturing towards the Dementors. Once again Ragnok wasn't sure what
they did but the bodies disappeared and the cold faded as the Dementors took on
their more human appearance. It had to be an illusion.
       "You will need to fill out the paperwork."
       This time Bellatrix laughed and somehow the laugh was colder than the
Dementors. "I don't think so," she said. Bellatrix took a few steps towards the
door before she turned back towards Ragnok, and looked at him through narrowed
eyes. "I realise my Master has not given you any offers, nor made any overtures
towards the goblins. Do not mistake this for indifference, or disinterest. On
the contrary, he is very interested in the goblins however he is also aware
that the goblins are now an institution within the magical world. He seeks not
to disturb what many consider the status quo but make no mistake, little
goblin, if you oppose him, we will destroy you." Before the words even faded
Bellatrix swept from the office, her body guard Dementors trailing after her.
Another goblin would help her now that Ragnok had been forced to give his
permission.
       In the office, Ragnok fell back into his chair. His own guards bowed
themselves out, knowing that the overseer needed to think. They had their own
reports to make. No matter how the Dementors had taken on passable human form,
the goblin warriors had to know. For Ragnok though, there was not much to think
on. Rather he was composing his letter to his superiors for losing so much gold
but also his recommendation that the goblins immediately take up the offer of
the Ministry. Bellatrix could say all she wanted that the Dark Lord considered
them the status quo but he had heard in her voice the promise that she would be
standing beside her lord when they assaulted the Goblins, and she was looking
forward to that day. The Dark Lord wasn't fighting them now, but it was simply
a matter of time.
       They, the goblins had to be ready for that battle.
===
       Bellatrix waited impatiently as the goblin stepped up to her vault. She
had thought of it as hers since the day she married Rodolphus and now it really
was hers. The Dementors stood behind her, the perfect image of guards. They
didn't fidget, they didn't fuss and they simply followed. She had been pleased
to see them in her lord's service. As one of the inner circle, she had been
present with Dolohov when her Lord gave them their briefings on the current
state of affairs, though she could tell somehow that he was leaving something
important out. She wasn't concerned because anyone with eyes could see that her
Lord was always circumspect around the Vampire who had supposedly come to help
him. Vampires didn't help wizards, they served their own interests. When the
Vampire was not around, Bellatrix knew that her Lord would tell them the
missing information.
       One thing he had made abundantly clear was that the Potter-childling was
to be left for him. Capture was fine even encouraged, torture, maiming and
killing were not. The glow in his eye as he said that had even made her
shudder. He meant every word and it would be a bloody vengeance on anyone who
forgot that.
       At length, the goblin stepped back from the vault door and she swept
inside. She didn't care what most of it was. It didn't matter. There was only
one object she cared about, a small cup, said to be Helga Hufflepuff's that her
Lord had entrusted to her many years ago. When he had told her that he did not
trust the goblins, she knew he wanted it back. He would use the gold of course,
but he wanted this cup back and that's why several Death Eaters had been
instructed to empty their vaults. He wanted no one to know he was particularly
interested in the contents of the LeStrange vault.
       Bellatrix walked to the back of the vault and reverentially reached out
to take the cup down from its resting place. It thrummed with power, just as
she had remembered. Leaving it in here had been one of the hardest things she
had ever done. It called to her, whispering her name comfortingly, almost
lovingly. It comforted her and the memory of it had sustained her while she was
in Azkaban. When she held it, it was almost as if her Lord was talking directly
into her soul. She loved the feeling and it would be hard to give the cup back
to him when he asked for it. She held it to her breast with one hand and with
her other flicked her wand. The contents of the vault rose up and began rushing
into a small bag her Lord had given her. He'd charmed it personally so it would
be easily able to carry everything in this vault.
       She could feel the goblin's horror at her indiscriminate way of packing
the vault contents. There were many valuable and irreplaceable items here that
were rushing into the small bag and she resisted the urge to snort in derision.
That would not be lady-like, the words from her mother echoed in her ear. Did
the goblins think so little of her magic? It might look indiscriminate and
rushed but every single item was arranging itself neatly within her bag. Her
Lord would no doubt have a passing interest in some of the other items and if
she could somehow get into the Black vault... She knew her family vault
contained objects that her Lord would really be able to use, but she had heard
that Sirius was free and despite his mother's dislike of him, she had not
disowned him formally from the family. Sirius Black was the current Head of the
House of Black and even if he died the title would not yet pass to her.
       As the last of vault's contents began to enter the bag, Bellatrix almost
regretfully moved the cup into a pocket of her robe. By moving to pick out the
cup, the goblins already knew that she had been interested in it, but it would
do no good for them to know how delicately, how gently and reverently she
treated it. They could see that it was Hufflepuff's cup, if anything she should
revile it as the possession of a lesser being.
       She cast her eyes around the now empty vault, slipping her wand into its
holster on her arm before reaching into the bag. She removed one galleon and
summoned to her an odd shaped item that was of goblin design, a trap of ages.
Carefully she placed the galleon on the floor of the vault and then put the
trap over it. From another small pocket, she pulled a tiny vial that her Lord
had given her and with extreme care she measured a single drop of it on to the
top of the trap. It sizzled for an instant before a little magical shield
contained the drop and pulled it down into the body of the trap. Bellatrix
stood then and walked out of the vault. As she rose she heard the goblin at the
door gasp when he saw what she had done. He recognised it.
       "You can move the contents of this vault if you wish," she said with a
fake little smile. She'd have gladly just killed all the goblins but her master
had said it was not time. He had plans, and Bellatrix always enjoyed his plans.
It would be fun to see the goblins squirm. She hadn't really thought about them
much in the past. They were goblins, they served wizards as the keepers of
Gringotts. There was nothing much left to think about, but her Master had and
her Master saw what they were trying to hide. He already knew their plans and
he had his counter plans ready already. They could survive for now, but as soon
as the Ministry was bowed to her Lord's will, they were on borrowed time.
       Bellatrix almost wished she had left a clock.
===
       Gideon stood to the side. He wasn't a pack leader but there were more
than a few werewolves here who weren't. It appeared most of the pack leaders
had brought at least one or two members of their packs with them. Remus was
unique in that he was alone. The Death Eater werewolf though could already see
the factions forming. Around Fenrir Greyback most of those who wanted to side
with the Dark Lord had gathered. It wasn't quite as many as Gideon would have
thought. He assumed the few who had greeted Remus wanted to follow the
Ministry, but there were a fair number of leaders who were just standing around
and Gideon took that to mean they wanted to be neutral. It was hard to tell
since there was that fourth offer.
       He knew he should go see Fenrir to report that he was safe but Gideon
was still rather conflicted. Remus had been completely honourable with him. The
Shadow representative, for all that he had threatened, had been rough but he
had also done exactly what he said he would. And with Remus reporting that the
spell had worked exactly as hoped, he was re-thinking his decision to follow
the Dark Lord. There were alternatives out there; he had just not seen them. Or
maybe he hadn't wanted to see them.
       It didn't matter now, but it was something he would have to consider in
the future. Gideon looked around; he wasn't sure when or even how the meeting
would start. So far, all the pack leaders had stood around and talked, moving
between each other with no real sense of purpose. He wondered who would call
the meeting to order.
       He was kept wondering for a time until one of the pack leaders finally
seemed to tire of the talk and coughed ostentatiously. "All right," the Pack
Leader said. Gideon didn't know which one it was. but they seemed confident.
"We called this meeting because we have to decide who to follow."
       "That's easy," Fenrir growled. "There is only one who has been loyal to
us."
       Gideon was surprised when he felt the need to speak. But he held his
tongue. Now that the meeting had started, only pack leaders could speak and
this was not the time to challenge one for the right to be heard. Thankfully
Remus was not cowed by Fenrir.
       "Loyal? Has age finally done your mind in?"
       "More like youth does not let you see the truth, pup," Greyback replied.
       "There are times when I'm grateful that werewolves don't have the
genetic loyalty that vampires do. Thankfully I'm not required to follow you."
       "That's probably because you are too blinded by that idiot, Dumbledore."
       Remus chuckled. His relaxed attitude was not lost on the other pack
leaders. They were impressed and already Gideon could see that there was a
shift towards Remus. "I'm more fascinated with the fourth offer," Remus said
easily.
       "Well, well, well, how easily you change your tune," Fenrir said.
       "I have always wanted what is best for us," Remus countered. "Besides, I
don't think I'm the only one interested in that offer."
       "You aren't," another of the pack leaders spoke. "It is a most generous
offer."
       "I think we are all agreed that the Ministry and neutrality are not
options this time."
       "The Ministry has sided with the vampires," Fenrir spat. "And they
flaunted the capture of one of our own."
       "The fact that he's a Death Eater didn't help," the counter came from a
voice among the pack leaders. This was not what Gideon had expected. He could
feel the tension from all the pack leaders, despite the fact they were still
talking. They wanted to fight each other. Some were undecided about which path
they wanted to follow, though there did seem to be a consensus that the
Ministry was not an option. The rest seemed split between the three other
choices.
       "Yet it was representative of the fourth option who freed our captured
brother."
       "My Lord has said nothing," Fenrir declared.
       "Probably because the freed werewolf has been with me," Remus countered
gesturing.
       Gideon gulped as he felt most of the pack leaders turn towards him. In a
moment of bravado he saluted them. There really wasn't anything else he could
do. Greyback snarled. "Why didn't you report to our Lord?"
       "Because the Shadows were not willing to confirm they helped rescue me
until I accompanied Lupin here," Gideon shrugged. "And you know as well as I do
that our Lord will not accept me back until that time. I will report back to
him after this meeting." He added soothingly. While he may have doubts about
following the Dark Lord, he had made his choice and he was obligated to keep
that choice, for now.
       "Well," one of the older pack leaders said. "That does seem to be a
rather good recommendation for the new offer. Or did they ask for something in
return?" The question was posed to Remus.
       Remus shook his head. "They only asked that I mention it."
       "Subtle," the other werewolf said.
       "Subtle or not, they have no power!" Voldemort's werewolf objected.
       "I think they have more than you want to admit, Fenrir," the older pack
leader objected. "We might as well approach this question with some degree of
logic," the grey haired man continued, speaking over the reply Fenrir made. The
look of the other pack leaders was approving and Greyback was astute enough in
reading his fellows to fall silent, for now. "I believe we have four choices;
the Ministry, the Dark Lord, this new offer, and neutrality. I take it we are
all agreed that we must make a decision and that Ministry is not a viable
option at this time?" The werewolf looked around expectantly.
       The rest of the pack leaders nodded. The Ministry was not a viable
option and for the foreseeable future, they were not going to be an option.
Most expected Remus to look downcast, but he was as firm as the others in his
agreement. Gideon hid a smile. The pack leaders had also agreed that they had
to make a decision, which meant that his capture had done at least one thing
for his Lord. He'd have to emphasise that when he saw the Serpent Lord again.
As he looked around he tried to put names to the faces of the pack leaders. It
was difficult since most he'd only heard of as whispers or by their werewolf
monikers. The names "Sawtooth' or 'Scrubtail' were not exactly helpful in
trying to identify who was who in human form.
       "Fenrir, what will the Dark Lord offer for our services?" the older
werewolf asked and Gideon suddenly realised the speaker was Longtooth Silvers,
one of the oldest and most respected pack leaders. It was rumoured that he was
the one who had bitten Greyback as a child, but neither of them had confirmed
that.
       "My Lord offers what he has always offered, a place to serve and to be
accepted," Fenrir replied, making it seem like a great and grand offer.
       "Nothing else? And any conditions?" The question came from a youngish
pack leader who stepped up to stand with Longtooth.
       "What else do you need, Shebane?" Greyback snapped. "My service to my
Lord has helped the packs and has never caused me to be conflicted in loyalty."
       "You might be fine with biting little children, Fenrir," Shebane spat
back. "The rest of us don't share your beliefs. He will want us to fight, won't
he?"
       "He will want us to serve," Fenrir snarled. "And there has never been a
problem with serving."
       Silently, Gideon shook his head. He really hoped the Serpent Lord wasn't
relying on Fenrir to be his sole representative because he was doing a fine job
of alienating the rest of the packs. It was well known that Greyback revelled
in his werewolf ability, but his indiscriminate nature was not shared by them
all.
       Longtooth growled, cutting through the budding argument before they
could get physical. "We will serve if that is what we decide," he said. "We are
all aware of what neutrality brings," he continued. "What is this other
offering us?"
       Gideon expected Remus to respond, but it was one of the other pack
leaders who spoke. "A couple of us have spoken to them. Their offer has been
the same each time," a pack leader with long brown hair stepped forward.
"Firstly, for those who want it, wolfsbane potion made by a Potion Master,
though they never said which one, just that their credentials would be
available when an agreement is made. Financial help should we need it and a
change in the Ministry Laws regarding us."
       "Talon, did they put a time frame on the law changes?" Longtooth asked.
       Talon shook his head. "No, but they did offer a guarantee; a blood
oath."
       That brought a murmur from the gathered pack leaders. "A blood oath?"
The question was whispered almost with awe.
       "What were the stipulations?" Longtooth asked quietly. He was impressed
but he was controlled enough not to show it.
       "Wait," Talon said, shaking his hair slightly. "There was another part
of the offer. They also offered a spell, one that when supposedly cast by a
strong enough wizard, on a werewolf with a strong enough desire, would mean
that the werewolf retains their human mind during transformation. It's like
wolfsbane potion but just the spell."
       "It only works about five percent of the time," Remus broke in. "I
researched it," he added. "It does work, I had them cast it on me, but it's not
reliable, which they did tell me in advance."
       Longtooth and the other pack leaders nodded. "What were the
stipulations?" The question was repeated.
       "Our services in one battle, that they specify, a public declaration of
neutrality, but they were also willing to concede that some of us would
continue to serve either the Dark Lord or the Ministry. and in the case of the
blood oath, they require that we discuss any problems with them, before we call
that in."
       Longtooth raised an eyebrow. He had heard the offer, but he hadn't gone
to talk with the representative, something he was regretting now. "There was no
stipulation on the amount of financial aid?"
       The pack leaders who had spoken to the representative looked at each
other. No one had thought to ask. "I think they might be offended if we asked
for the Malfoy vault in value," Remus said with a chuckle. "But if we have a
valid need, then it will be met."
       "It's almost too good to be true," a pack leader that Gideon recognised
as Razorclaw said.
       "It is too good to be true," Fenrir snarled.
       "No," Remus replied, his voice like ice. "I spoke with the
representative myself. The offer is genuine and they do have the power to grant
what they have offered."
       "Who are they, then? Because no one with that much power just appears
from nowhere." It was a logical enough statement for Fenrir to make.
       "No one that you know of," Remus retorted almost happily but he was
aware of the doubt. The Shadow path was completely new.
       "So enlighten me."
       "Why? So your Lord can remove them? I think that's one of the reasons
they have been so circumspect. I'd guess that they do not want to be known
yet."
       "So why be so generous to us?" Longtooth wasn't the only one who wanted
to know. No one was generous to the werewolves, not without there being a very
large catch. And so far none of them could see any catch.
       Gideon was watching Remus as this part of the conversation unfolded. He
knew Lupin knew exactly who was offering the werewolves this, but it seemed
that the man did not wish to speak of it. Gideon could also see that many of
the pack leaders were interested in the offer, but they were reluctant as they
were not sure about plunging into the unknown. They didn't necessarily want to
follow the Dark Lord, but neutrality or the Ministry weren't options to them.
       "I think," Gideon heard himself say, "I think they already have an
agreement with the Dark Lord."
       "What makes you say that?" Longtooth waved off those who were about to
object.
       "I stayed with the man who rescued me for a few days and we didn't talk
much, but just from a few things he said... it seemed to me that he knew the
Dark Lord well. I was rescued by one wizard, one wizard who went through the
Aurors as if they were nothing. He didn't fight, he avoided them all, in their
Headquarters. I know my Lord could do something similar, but I have never seen
anything like it! And no Greyback, he wasn't a Death Eater," Gideon added the
last for his Lord's benefit, sure the question would come at him anyway. Fenrir
would probably see their Lord before him, so there was no point in antagonising
the other Death Eater unnecessarily. "I also believe they are being generous
with us now, because they wish to form a longer term alliance," Gideon added
softly.
       "That would explain it," Longtooth murmured, looking back towards his
fellow pack leaders before he laughed. "It's stupid asking us to vote; we are
only going to come to a decision one way."
       "I'm so glad you said that," Fenrir smiled.
       "Though I am curious," Longtooth added, "how a vote would go. I think we
are split, though," he said easily.
       "Aye, we are," Gideon recognised Blackpelt by his jet black hair. He was
the werewolf known for the best financial counting of the packs. "I've counted
and the only way to change the count is if Remus wants to tell us who is making
us that offer."
       "I only think I know," Remus said, "And I would prefer not to break
their confidence in the event that I'm right."
       "That means we are down to the old-fashioned way, one leader over all
the packs of the Isles because as the Ministry is agreed not to be an option, I
don't think we really want to fall into neutrality."
       "Enough talk," Greyback growled. "All that remains is for those who have
the guts to fight to stand up and for the rest of the pretend leaders to
leave."
       "I nominate," Shebane said and his cry was quickly backed by another of
his pack. Other pack leaders nominated for the fight and Greyback smiled, his
teeth catching on his lips. They would fight in the traditional way,
transformed werewolf to werewolf on the nights of the full moon. Gideon could
see that Fenrir was thinking that would give him the advantage. Not many of the
other pack leaders bothered to train their werewolf forms. Gideon realised that
Greyback was easily the strongest fighter which was no doubt the Dark Lord's
plan to gain the werewolf packs. And for Fenrir, he would enjoy seeing Remus
bow to him though Gideon had noticed that Lupin had also been nominated and
there was a small smile on his face. Suddenly Gideon knew that Greyback
wouldn't have it all his way and perhaps it would be the older werewolf who
bowed to his creation.
===
       Sirius was in a black mood. Pun and every other bad joke he could think
of intended. He had lost patience with his "mission" weeks back. He'd persisted
at it because every night when he asked Fawkes what exactly he was looking for,
the phoenix had replied that what he was doing was necessary. How it was
necessary had never been explained.
       He'd also persisted at it because it meant he could run errands for the
Shadows with no one the wiser, but even that benefit was wearing thin. So far,
all he had encountered had been a group of centaurs who had insisted that they
could defend their territory, a mob of outcast goblins who had almost gleefully
agreed to help, if they were presented with the heads of the current leaders of
Gringotts bank and he'd heard some rumours that there was a Veela colony
nearby. Rumours he could, of course, not confirm.
       What he was doing was a complete waste of time. Did Dumbledore and
Fawkes really believe there were groups of magical creatures with enough
presence to tip the battle just living out in the wild? There might be a few
colonies of various types, but they just did not wish to be found. Not by him,
not by anyone. There were no other major groups left to recruit. Fairies were
merely decorative and elves and all other magical creatures with power were
just the twisted dreams of Muggles who had seen a little too much of what they
shouldn't and had spun everything out of those sightings. If he went about this
logically then he could account for almost every major magical being and group
and know that there just were none left to recruit.
       The Vampires had already thrown their lot in with the Ministry. The
Giants were being intractable. The Goblins would probably side with the
Ministry but even if they didn't, Sirius wasn't talking to them. The Veela had
representatives in Diagon Alley, so it was far easier to talk to them there.
The Merfolk were contactable at Hogwarts, as were the Centaurs. Acromantulas he
didn't even want to talk about, but they definitelyfell to Hagrid to speak to.
Werewolves could be spoken to over a nice cup of tea, without having to traipse
through the wilderness. Unicorns had stopped paying him any attention since
Third Year. Sphinxes were not native to the Isles and even if they were, they
were too... too intractable and sphinx-y to rely on. Griffons, Hippogriffs,
Thestrals and other creatures like that were not even sentient. They would
serve pretty much whoever fed them. Serpents already belonged to the Dark Lord
and the Hairy MacBoons had lost whatever semblance of humanity they had
centuries ago. A battle between Light and Dark forces was of little interest to
them.
       And all of that faded into complete and utter inconsequence with the
knowledge that the Express had been attacked and that Azkaban had been emptied.
He should be there!
       :You should, but you aren't,: the Shadows kindly agreed with him. :Since
we can't really help you recruit things that don't exist, would you like to do
something else?:
       :Such as?: Sirius asked somewhat suspiciously. He might enjoy the little
tasks they gave him, but right at the moment he was fed up with everything.
       The Shadows chuckled. :We thought it might be nice if you met him.:
       :Who?:
       :Voldemort.:
       :Oh.: Sirius wasn't sure what he thought about that. He knew Harry was
sure of the Dark Lord's love but he was hard pressed to believe it. :I'm not
sure there is much I could see,: Sirius said sensibly.
       :You'll see it in his eyes but are you sure you want to?:
       Sirius looked up at the stars for a moment and took a deep breath. The
stars were bright out in the wilderness and he remembered his Astronomy class.
The stars were never this bright on the top of that tower. At least that was
one good thing. Eventually he sighed. :Yes, I think I do want to know.:
       :All right,: the Shadows replied easily. :We'll let you know when it's
safe to visit.: Sirius could almost hear a smile in their voice. :For now
though, why don't you reconsider this mission? Use your logic to shorten it,
now that you've established to Dumbledore that there really is no one hiding
out hoping to be ignored.:
       "If I could do that, I'd be out of here already!" Sirius objected.
       :You haven't really thought about it properly yet,: the Shadows
countered. :Think about it carefully. Go through every group you know of.:
       "Argh!" the canine animagus growled. They obviously knew something yet
they also seemed determined not to tell him.
       :Of course we know something. We try to know everything,: they laughed.
:Just think about it again, carefully, and you will see what we mean. Though it
will still take a while to get back there.:
       Sirius growled, the sound more reminiscent of something that his
animagus form would produce. He really had no choice but to humour the Shadows
in this. They were worse than Remus was when he had forgotten the answer to
some test question. "All right," he said trying to remember his classes and the
lists of magical creatures he had to memorise for school. Lists he'd promptly
forgotten as useless. He tried to focus on the more dangerous creatures.
"Alphabetically then... Acromantula's are definitely not something I want to
run in to. Basilisk's will follow the serpent lord. Centaurs don't want to be
involved. Chimaera's are Greek and hate the cold and also don't speak and do
not treat with wizards, except to eat them. Demiguise aren't helpful and
Drag..." Sirius trailed off, his eyes wide.
       "Dragons!" He shouted! Dragons were big, strong and magically resistant.
There were enough of them that if you herded them into battle they could make a
difference without getting slaughtered. They were also kept in groups under the
control of the various Ministries because they were so expensive! He didn't
know how to control them but Sirius didn't doubt for a moment that the Dragon
Handlers would have a better idea. "How could I be so stupid?" he asked aloud.
       The Shadows didn't reply, but he definitely got the impression of
amusement from them. He could tell though that he had worked out what they were
thinking about.
       "Okay, so I have to find this group of Veela, then I'm off to find and
talk to the dragon handlers, and somehow convince them that their charges can
change the outcome of this war."
       :Something like that.:
       "I still want to be there," Sirius sighed as his small jolt of elation
faded. He didn't care what he found here, he wanted to be with Harry and Remus.
       :We know, and they know, but Harry knows that for the moment humouring
Dumbledore is the best option, and Remus is a tad busy with the werewolves, and
will be for the next several moons.:
       "What's happened?" Alarm coloured his tone.
       :Nothing,: the Shadows said. :Our offer was taken well but as we
suspected, because we are unknown it was not enough to get them to follow us.
But it was enough to cause a split in their ranks. As a result, they will fight
now to determine who is the Supreme Pack Leader of the Isles and allow them to
make the decision on which path the werewolves walk. In the end, it won't make
a difference; they will follow either the Dark Lord or us since the Ministry
has sided with the Vampires.:
       Sirius knew Remus could fight. Remus didn't show it much but he was a
good swordsman and fairly decent hand to hand. :Silly!: the Shadows laughed at
his thoughts. :They aren't going to fight as humans. The battles will take
place on the full moon and before you worry, that gives Remus far more
advantage than the rest know.: The Shadows seemed to grin.
       The Head of the House of Black was silent as he tried to determine what
advantage Remus had. He was as comfortable with his werewolf form as any of
them got, excepting perhaps Fenrir but that wasn't it... Wait... "That spell?"
       :Exactly. We will offer it to all of them of course, but Fenrir abhors
the very idea of it and that we believe will be his undoing.:
       Sirius grinned rather ferally. They'd never hunted down Fenrir because
the war had taken up all their time once they graduated, but they had given it
a lot of thought. It would be a nice thing if Remus was now in a position to
fight Greyback and when he won, for Fenrir to have to obey him.
       That would definitely be a very nice side of justice.
       :We rather thought you might like it,: the Shadows chuckled with him.
There was silence for a moment. :Do you feel a bit better now?: they asked.
       Sirius started at the question, but he did feel a bit better now. He was
still frustrated with his Order appointed task and still thought it bordered on
being a useless waste of his time but if Harry and Remus understood and if he
could perhaps get the Dragons onside, then he did feel just a bit better.
===
       Voldemort was surprised when the Shadows gathered before him. Kisha was
with him and they usually avoided the elder vampire.
       :We need something,: there was none of their usual banter when they
hissed the demand.
       The elder vampire raised one delicate eyebrow, somewhat surprised at the
Shadows boldness. She knew they had been avoiding her. For a group with an
agreement with the Dark Lord they had been scarce, but she had supposed it was
part of the bargain that they only appeared when needed. Or now perhaps they
only appeared when they wanted something.
       "What do you need?" Voldemort asked. The Shadows were playing towards
the vampire's presumption of what their deal was. She thought he had to pay for
everything, so they were kindly providing almost trivial tasks to prove that
their deal was based on payments.
       :A set of journals, enchanted such that one mirrors the other. The
mirror will have to be able to read through protection charms.:
       "I can do that," the Dark Lord said. "But what will you do for me?" The
question was purely to satisfy the vampire.
       :The journal will pay for itself.:
       "That remains to be seen. My next foray, two of you act as my eyes and
ears and you will have your journal."
       Kisha laughed. "Surely you have wizards who can make mirrored journals?"
she asked the Shadows.
       If the Shadows had of been human, they would have been giving the
vampire a very dirty look. :Of course we do, but we want these ones to be
undetectable and that requires more power.:
       "Your Master could do it," she muttered.
       :He could, if we want to spend the rest of eternity in servitude,: the
Shadows retorted before they turned their attention back to the Dark Lord. :All
right, we will be your eyes and ears next foray.:
       "Then you will have your journal," the Serpent Lord agreed, feeling the
slight smugness from both the Shadows and the vampire. He laughed to himself.
In the game they were playing there could only be one winner, but the play was
highly entertaining.
 
 
***** Everyone Wants to Talk *****
Weapon
Chapter 26 Everyone Wants to Talk
===
       Harry looked down at The Prophet and the Quibbler. He'd taken out a
subscription in both to try to keep abreast of what the wizarding world
thought. He didn't care what they thought, the outcome was inevitable, but it
was easier to ride the wave of prejudice and opinion when you knew what it was.
       Three weeks.
       The Ministry had sat on the news about Azkaban for three weeks! And now
the wizarding world knew and already Harry could feel the panic rising in the
students. As if the released prisoners of Azkaban had much interest in a bunch
of kids. Though he would give the Prophet a bit of credit, they were good at
manipulating the fears of the community. The Quibbler was surprisingly more
down to earth, and they had actually broken the news first. Luna had been smug
about that when the break out had been reported in the Quibbler yesterday and
only today was the Prophet catching up.
       The Quibbler had actually been helpful about the break out and had given
advice and tips on what to do if you saw any of the prisoners and the
Dementors. The Prophet was just screaming that they had broken out. There was
nothing useful in the trash that they were writing, though because they were
the more favoured Ministry rag they did have lists of the prisoners and photos.
Harry would have to have a word with Luna to know why The Quibbler didn't,
though as he looked through the photos, focusing on those he knew to be in his
beloved's inner circle, he cast his mind back to the Order of the Phoenix
meeting he had gone to three days ago now.
       From the way the other Order Members were acting, Harry had assumed that
the meeting was fairly routine, though Molly Weasley had been exuberant in her
greetings. It had remained routine until Snape had been asked to give his
report. While Harry didn't know all the details about Azkaban, his Shadows had
at least told him it had happened. The Order was shocked, and that shock very
quickly turned into panic before Dumbledore had re-asserted his control. Some
members of the Order had known. Kingsley had just sat quietly, but he had
obviously been instructed not to tell anyone and Harry had wondered of the
sense in that. In this war, knowledge was power and hording knowledge would
just get people killed.
       Snape had gone on to give a list of who had survived and Harry had
noticed Kingsley making notes. The Ministry had obviously known who was on
Azkaban, but they hadn't known who died. He was a bit surprised himself to hear
of the fate of the medium term prisoners. He'd have to find out what they had
done to annoy his beloved that much. As Snape had finished his report on
Azkaban, Harry's servants had begun chuckling. It was a slow thing, a small
display of mirth that became full blown laughter and Harry had felt their
happiness. He really couldn't tell what they were so happy about though and the
Shadows were in no condition to answer him as Snape continued on to report that
the Dark Lord was asking all his forces a single question. Snape had not yet
been asked and he had no idea what the question was since the Death Eaters who
did know simply said it was worth their lives to speak of it...just as it was
worth their lives if they answered incorrectly.
       As he flicked green eyes over the paper now, he was beginning to see
what his servants had been so happy about. At that thought, the Shadows started
laughing again and Harry did his best to block them out. For what was such a
little thing they seemed exorbitantly happy.
       After they had discussed Azkaban, the meeting had moved on. There really
wasn't much they could discuss about Azkaban anyway. It had already happened.
What they did spend some time on was how to kill Dementors, and Harry was
horrified at what it took to kill one. If they were that hard to kill, he
wondered how it was that they hadn't just taken over! There had to be an easier
way that did not involve his servants eating them all and Harry had made a
mental note to ask Hermione to think about it. He didn't really want to kill
them all but he had to appear as if he was doing something. The be all and end
all of Azkaban was that the Death Eaters were free and recovering which was why
the Dark Lord was being so quiet. The non-Death Eaters were either becoming
Death Eaters or dying, and the Dementors were so firmly on Voldemort's side
that nothing would move them.
       Kingsley had given a report then and he had included Harry in his
discussion. That had been something Harry was grateful for. They all said he
was going to be the one to fight but when the time came, no matter that he was
supposedly a full member, they seemed reluctant to tell him anything. At least
the Ministry had worked out what they wanted to do with him and though Kingsley
couldn't officially tell him, he had indicated that Harry would be getting some
letters in the near future which would outline the Ministry's plans.
       Dumbledore had seemed happy enough with that. He probably already knew
what the plans were but had felt it best not to tell Harry. He had suppressed a
sigh then and he suppressed one now. The more they tried to hide information
from him, the harder they made it on themselves. It really was pathetic to
think that if Dumbledore had of been upfront and open at the beginning then the
outcome of the Dark Lord's courting probably would have been different. They
had no one to blame but themselves. You did not rely on someone but never tell
them anything.
       No one had said anything about Sirius. No one had even asked. Harry had
been listening for news of his Godfather but it seemed everyone was content
with pretending he didn't exist. If the Shadows didn't exist then he wouldn't
have known anything.
       "Harry!" Hermione broke into his thoughts.
       "Hmm?"
       "Did you know about this?" she whispered pointing towards the paper.
       Harry shook his head. "I'm blocking him," he replied. "One thing I could
use was his Occulemcy skills, and apparently I'm a bit too good at it."
       "Better to block him completely than have him learn things," Hermione
said with complete faith.
       "It wasn't that bad." He could barely remember what it had been like. It
had been more than a year since he had felt pain from feeling the Dark Lord's
thoughts.
       Hermione just gave him a look. "It was that bad," she said simply, "You
didn't have to watch you in pain. We did."
       "All right, perhaps it was bad, but it was useful."
       At that, Harry could see she conceded a little in the way she held her
head and he remembered his mental note. "Actually, there's something I want to
ask you."
       "Oh?"
       "It's about Dementors. I found out how to kill them and it's
difficult..."
       Harry would have said more but McGonagall chose that moment to come down
the aisle between the tables to stand beside him. "Mr. Potter, the Headmaster
would like to see you," she announced quietly but the entire Hall heard.
       "Yes, Professor," Harry said smiling. This probably meant the Ministry
was finally up to speaking to him. He grabbed another piece of toast and bacon
and with a smile towards his friends he got up and trotted out of the Great
Hall. If the Ministry had finally gotten their act together, then he didn't
want to be late.
===
       Harry made his way to the Headmaster's office. The gargoyle swung out of
his way automatically now and he patted it almost fondly. As he rode the steps
up, he stretched his senses. Dumbledore was there, as was Kingsley and a man
and a woman he didn't recognise. Xeoaph wasn't there and he couldn't sense any
other Vampires either. It would be nice not to deal with them.
       He knocked and before he lowered his hand, Albus had bid him enter. "You
wanted to see me?"
       "Yes Harry, come in, come in," Dumbledore would have ushered him to a
chair if he wasn't sitting behind his desk. The man and woman whom Harry didn't
recognise were sitting and wore the robes of Aurors and from the glimpse of
rank it was a captain and the Auror Commander.
       :The captain is a moron so try not to get annoyed,: the Shadows
whispered to him. :And it's Auror Commander Amelia Bones.:
       Inwardly, Harry nodded. It appeared Kingsley was as good as his word and
the Ministry really did have an idea of what they wanted to do. Or maybe it was
the Aurors and they were just going to forget to tell the rest of the Ministry.
That would make more sense. He sat in one of the chairs when Dumbledore
gestured that he should.
       "Harry, this is the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement,
Madam Bones, and Auror Captain Baross."
       "Pleased to meet you," Harry murmured as he nodded politely.
       "Equally," Madam Bones said calmly. "I have heard much about you, Mr.
Potter."
       Dumbledore smiled happily. Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes at
the elder wizard. Instead Harry focused his attention on the Aurors who were
also in the office. He nodded slightly towards Madam Bones and addressed her as
an equal. "What brings you here today?" he asked.
       "We came to talk to you," Madam Bones said.
       Harry raised an eyebrow to question her statement.
       "The completion of your O.W.L.s last year brought you to our attention.
You have to be aware that you showed a great amount of skill during your dual
with the examiners and the Aurors and the members of the Order of the Phoenix."
       "I was also aware that the Ministry was not meant to speak to me without
my Godfather present."
       Madam Bones smiled at the comment. "Your Godfather was very insistent
that anything for the Ministry was not to impact upon your educational
requirements for the future. However Mr. Potter I have seen your results and
academically speaking your future is rather good."
       Harry smiled. "Forgive me Madam Bones, I have not seen my results. From
your statement I can imply that they are more than acceptable however I'm
afraid that the Ministry, while allowing me to enrol in Sixth Year, has not
seen fit to officially award me my O.W.L.s."
       The Head of the DMLE nodded towards him and withdrew from her robe a
tight scroll of parchment. It was similar to one that was sitting before the
Headmaster. She held her copy out towards Harry. The black haired young man
reached forward to take the parchment before he sat back and opened it; green
eyes flickered over the words. He had taken his O.W.L.s in all subjects that
were available and after his second test the papers had been replaced with
N.E.W.T.s. He wasn't sure how the Ministry were going to tell him that, but it
appeared that they would just let his results inform him of what had happened.
There was a list of subjects running down the parchment and beside the name of
each subject in a neat tabular format were four figures. The first was his
O.W.L. result then two figures which represented his N.E.W.T.s result
separating it into written and practical results. The last figure was the
overall score for his N.E.W.T. in that subject. The subjects were listed
alphabetically but Harry only cared about a few.
       He smiled involuntarily when he saw that he had gotten the highest
possible marks in Defence Against the Dark Arts. His smile grew wider as he
looked at the rest of his results. Hermione would be jealous. In every subject
in which he had taken his exam, he'd gotten the highest possible results both
in the practical and the written sections except for Herbology and Potions. He
remembered then that those two had been his first exams and they had probably
not substituted them. Harry was not someone who deliberately tried to get good
grades but at the same time he could not help but be pleased that it was very
unlikely that anyone would ever get better results than he had even if the
results were mostly because of his beloved's knowledge.
       "Allow me to be one of the first to congratulate you on achieving the
highest N.E.W.T.s in history," Madam Bones said in a genuinely admiring tone.
"As you can see, extracurricular activities will not impinge upon your school
results."
       "Indeed," Harry was forced to agree with her. His servants laughed and
whispered to him that it had never mattered what his results were. Both the
Ministry and the Order of the Phoenix needed him to fight the Dark Lord. The
green eyed young man smiled at the adults present as was expected and decided
to approach what would come with an innocent demeanour. "So what happens now?"
       Auror Captain Baross stirred slightly at his question. "Now you can stop
dithering around and actually start fighting for us."
       Harry wasn't the only one to look at the Auror captain with some
surprise. The Shadows had told him that the captain was moron but he hadn't
quite believed that someone of his rank could be that completely tactless.
Green eyes flicked towards the Headmaster and Harry caught the small nod of
approval not at the Auror but towards himself. With a tiny condescending smile
he leaned towards the Auror captain placing one elbow on his knee and resting
his chin in his hand. "You say it as if I am obliged."
       "Of course you were obliged."
       "To do what?"
       "To fight!"
       "Why?" Harry said the question as innocently as he could.
       The Auror captain jerked back in surprise, he had obviously never
expected such question. "Because... Because you have to."
       "No, I don't have to. You need me to." Harry couldn't resist looking
slightly smug at his statement and he noticed that Madam Bones just looked
frustrated. Kingsley looked a bit amused; he was no doubt the imagining the
chewing out Baross would get when they got back to the office.
       "You are correct, Mr. Potter, you do not have to fight, but I was under
the impression that the Dark Lord would target you and while you may prefer not
to fight, he will give you no choice if you wish to survive."
       Harry nodded. He was impressed by the little he had seen of Madam Bones.
She seemed to be logical as well as decent. He could tell she knew they needed
him, but she was also upset that they had to rely on someone so young.
       "You are correct, Madam, he does seem rather fixated on me," Harry
replied.
       Madam Bones closed her eyes briefly as she nodded. "That being the case,
Harry, the Auror department would like to offer you some alternatives."
       "What type of alternatives?" Harry asked somewhat suspiciously.
       "If you truly you do not wish to fight," Madam Bones began, "then the
DMLE would advise that you leave the country and create a new identity in the
hope that he does not pursue and find you. Unfortunately, we equally advise
that we do not think that this would work for very long."
       "I agree," Dumbledore said softly.
       After Harry had nodded, Madam Bones continued. "You are a true
Gryffindor so I believe that you're more likely to fight him and therefore, the
DMLE has a proposal for you. We understand that you do not wish to leave
Hogwarts and we can accommodate that. You are after all a young man who should
spend time with his friends. Since you are at an educational facility, I would
ask that you consider taking this opportunity to pursue further education,
specifically in areas where you feel it would be beneficial to achieve your
Mastery."
       "That really doesn't help me fight," Harry said.
       "That would be in addition to taking a position with the DMLE," Madam
Bones said easily. "Even Aurors don't fight all the time," she added quietly.
"And to be honest, I have no intention of investing you as an Auror, even if
you are of age. If you still wish it in a few years, then we would be happy to
have you. However, it has been rightly pointed out me that it would be chaos to
have you join the Aurors in combat if you are not a part of the chain of
command. Put simply, we cannot have an outside party on the battlefield, no
matter what your intentions are, as you are essentially a civilian. That being
said, if you are willing, we would like to invest you as an Auror Apprentice.
In combat you would be specifically answerable to Senior Aurors who are
appointed to you."
       "Who?"
       "I was thinking your Godfather and Auror Captain Sturges," the Head of
the DMLE said.
       "Sirius isn't an Auror," Harry objected.
       "When your Godfather was found to be innocent he was reinstated as an
Auror who was on indefinite leave."
       "Ah," Harry said softly. "What would I be required to do?"
       Madam Bones smiled, which gave her a slightly grandmotherly look. It
suited her and was far more natural on her face than Dumbledore's similar look.
"Straight to the point I see. Officially, you would be aiding us in combat and
the chain of command will directly apply to you. However realistically, no
matter how much I might wish otherwise, the Dark Lord is likely to target you
and your role then would be to fight him has best you are able with the Aurors
as backup. It is a tricky situation and one that may change as time goes on.
       "I think we are all agreed that the main aim of any hostilities this
year will be to kill or otherwise negate the Serpent Lord. We have lived for
too long with a constant threat of war and it is time things changed. As much
as I regret that we must involve such a young fighter, I will do my best to
ensure that you remain safe, Harry. The Dark Lord was created by my generation
and should be dealt with by those whose prejudices have led to the situation.
It truly pains me that you are involved."
       Dumbledore chose that moment to speak. "It is not your fault, Amelia.
Tom is the one who keeps involving Harry and we are left trying to make the
best of a bad situation. Harry is both determined and resourceful and I'm sure
he will use this as an opportunity to better determine if a career as an Auror
is everything he thought it would be."
       "Will I be able to use all my power?"
       Dumbledore looked uncomfortable and Madam Bones was confused. "What you
mean, Harry?"
       "I mean, will I be able to use all my power?"
       "What power?"
       Before Dumbledore could object and hide the truth of it, Harry sat back
with a small smile and willed his servants to appear. The Headmaster's office
came alive with darkness but there was nothing threatening in the movement of
the Shadows. They simply flickered and danced and Harry chuckled aloud when a
couple of them flowed over the paintings behind the Headmaster as if they were
shadow puppets.
       Madam Bones was startled but she was not the head of the DMLE for
nothing and she was quick to think on her feet. "What are they?" She asked
sensibly.
       "They are my power."
       "Harry has been gifted with the old power," Albus said and Harry could
detect a note of reluctance in his voice. The Headmaster did not wish to share
this information. No doubt it was something that he had been hoping to reveal
later which would have made Harry seem more powerful and would of course have
given more credit to the Order of the Phoenix.
       "The old power?"
       "Most Dark Lords seek it and Voldemort unfortunately has it. Not the
same power, instead he has the ancient power over serpents. You have faced him
in person so you know how overwhelming he feels; that is a part of the old
power."
       "Do you have it?" Madam Bones looked pointedly at Dumbledore.
       The Headmaster smiled attempting to appear innocuous. To the unwary eye
he'd probably succeeded, but Harry was becoming more adept at reading the old
wizard's mask. "No, I don't," Albus said and Harry was mildly surprised when
his senses told him that the ancient wizard was speaking the truth. From the
way leader of the light felt at times Harry would have said that he had some
type of power.
       :He does have some type of power,: the Shadows whispered to their
master, :it's just not one of the old powers.:
       :What is his power then?: Harry asked silently.
       :Power,: the shadows said easily. :Regardless of anything else,
Dumbledore is a very powerful and influential wizard. You might even say that
Voldemort based himself on Albus.:
       Harry was hard pressed not to laugh out loud, but he quickly turned his
attention back to the Head of the DMLE as the witch looked at him with a
measuring gaze.
       "What exactly does your power do?"
       "The Shadows are much like the serpents," Harry began. "Voldemort uses
his snakes to spy on events and people he has an interest in. The Shadows are
similar in that regard though they are more invasive but at the same time they
are more easily blocked."
       "How does that help in battle?"
       "It means that the forces you have sneaking around under invisibility
cloaks or spells or even just hiding behind the next corner won't be able to
ambush me. The Shadows will tell me that they are there, and what their numbers
are as well as any special abilities they may have."
       Madam Bones frowned slightly, she did not like the implications of this
but perhaps they could be useful. "Could they spy on the Dark Lord?"
       Harry shook his head trying to project regret. "I thought about that,
and have even sent one or two, but they never came back. Some of the Shadows
are obeying the Serpent Lord."
       "Ah yes," Madam Bones murmured. "I remember now, there was a report that
you were attacked and Dumbledore could not tell us who did it. It was those
Shadows wasn't it?"
       Black hair shook a little as Harry quivered. "Yes," he whispered "but I
am the one they have to obey so while they attacked me they were also bound to
me. I don't know what Voldemort has paid those Shadows to obey him, but they
are loyal and I will only be able to bring them to our side if I touch them,
one by one."
       "It's very much like the serpents," the Headmaster began. The "Harry can
usually persuade one to obey him, however if Voldemort is around they will
automatically respond to the true lord and by the ancient power he is the true
lord of serpents. There is one more thing Harry can do to help the ministry in
combat. Harry and the Dark Lord's wands share brother cores. They will
recognise each other and will be reluctant to cast spells against the other at
full power."
       "Very interesting," Baross finally spoke. "Is the rumour I hear about
Mr. Potter having the Dark Lord's wand true?"
       "Not at all," Dumbledore said and his voice had a slight edge to it.
"Mr. Potter has his own wand."
       Harry played along and drew his wand from his sleeve. It was almost
comical to see the Auror Captain's eyes open wide in fear as the sight of
thirteen and a half inches of yew. "That is not his wand!" Baross objected.
       "I'm afraid you are mistaken," Harry said gently. "This is my wand."
       "That is the wand that has killed countless wizards and witches."
       "Once perhaps," Harry said distantly, "but no longer. Now it is my wand
and if you wish to take it from me, then I will not work for the Ministry."
       "We do not wish to take it from you," Madam Bones said, "though it is
somewhat surprising to see the wand that we associate with the Dark Lord in
your possession, Mr. Potter. Perhaps you could explain how this came to be?"
       Harry smiled. Voldemort had given him his wand along with Xaos in an
effort to help keep him safe, but the black haired boy could embellish the
story a little. He didn't care if Dumbledore didn't want the information
revealed. It was his story and he would tell whomever he wanted. "You are aware
that the Dark Lord has been obsessed with me and has actually captured me a few
times..?" he began.
       Both Baross and Madam Bones nodded and Harry continued. "The last time
was during Lucius's Rebellion. I don't remember much of it, but I do remember
waking up and seeing him. I don't think he expected me to be awake that quickly
because his wand was on a table so I grabbed it and then I apparated out of
there very quickly."
       Amelia chuckled. "That seems like a very reasonable thing to do," she
said with some amusement. "So Mr. Potter, what do you think of our proposal?"
       "I think I can work with it," he replied though he felt a small twinge
of regret. From what he had seen, Madam Bones was the type of person he wanted
to stand with them and her eventual defeat would hurt.
       "There is just one more thing, Mr. Potter. We would like your permission
to publish your N.E.W.T. results. You may think it's a waste of time, but I
believe such news will greatly boost the wizarding community's morale."
       Harry was shocked. They were actually asking if it was okay to publish
something about him rather than pretending he would be okay with it. He really
would regret when the day came to take down Madam Bones. "Which paper?" he
heard himself ask.
       "You have a preference?" She seemed a little surprised.
       "I realise The Quibbler has a smaller readership but they present things
in a much more helpful manner."
       He was proficient enough at observing to see that Madam Bones was
pleased at his reply, though she was careful to hide it. No doubt, she was
Ministerially obligated to support The Daily Prophet, but that didn't preclude
her having her own opinion. "I believe it would be best to give the story to
both papers," she said diplomatically.
       "Yes," Harry mused, "that would be best," he said, as if he hadn't
thought about it like that at all. "If you think it's best, please do give them
my results."
       "Good," Madam Bones said rising, which lead to a tiny scramble from
Baross as he followed suit. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Potter. My department
will be in touch, though if you see your Godfather, tell him I am expecting him
to appear for duty soon." The last was said while she looked at Harry, but it
was clearly directed towards Dumbledore. She held out her hand to Harry and he
took it, smiling up at the Head of the DMLE.
       "I look forward to working with you, Mr. Potter," Amelia said simply.
       "So do I," Harry replied, smiling at the way the Shadows were laughing.
Dumbledore misread his expression and looked very pleased. No doubt this little
arrangement would bring a great deal of power and credit to the Order of the
Phoenix. Fawkes trilled, the notes happy, and everyone felt uplifted. Harry was
almost surprised. It had been a while since he had felt the power of the
phoenix's song.
       :That's because it's been a while since he was genuine about it,: the
Shadows commented and Harry nodded, watching as the Aurors flooed back to the
Ministry. This had been a very useful meeting and it practically guaranteed the
eventual outcome.
       He felt sorry for Madam Bones though because the outcome would not be
what she expected and there was nothing he would do to change that.
===
       The Dark Lord sat in quiet contemplation.
       Kisha was away for the moment. No matter their agreement, she was still
a vampire elder and still had duties to attend to. She'd indicated she'd be
back in a few weeks and Voldemort snorted to himself. Duties. She had to make
sure that when their alliance broke her forces would be in position, though she
was tactful enough not to say that outright. Her support was amusing now, it
would not change much in this game and he knew that she was playing her own
game. She would help him, but only so long as it suited vampire interests. She
though probably thought they'd be allied for longer than they would be. He knew
that their paths would part before the year was out, but he also knew that
Kisha would adapt fast and know when the time had come. All that remained now
was who betrayed whom first. For now though...
       "Arabella..." he called the name of the Auror he had given to Xeoaph as
assurance; the gift he had now been given back, slightly altered. She was his
proof that Kisha had been in contact with her childe and knew both sides of the
game. It would be interesting to know the vampire elder's reasoning to support
him, but he would live without the knowledge, and in the end it made no
difference.
       "What do you want?" A sullen voice answered his call.
       He smiled. So the Auror maintained some spirit yet, but was obviously
tied by her elder's order to obey him. "Come forward." He ordered, willing her
to move into his line of sight. He wasn't sure yet what to do with this vampire
youngling, but he would use her. It was only fitting that he should make use of
his gift. "That's better," the Serpent Lord said as the ex-Auror moved forward
with a less than good grace.
       He half-closed his eyes as he looked at her. He'd left her to her own
devices for a few weeks and she'd spent the time exploring his stronghold
before reading some books from the library. She hadn't attempted to run and had
been respectful when requesting food, something that had surprised him slightly
though he had sensed her dislike of her need.
       She was dressed plainly in clothes that would not bring overt attention
in either wizarding or Muggle crowds - loose pants of a faded blue with a dark
red jumper that showed the collar of the shirt beneath. A single simple stud
earring pierced each ear and the Dark Lord could not see any other
ornamentation. Even her hair was styled to be forgettable. As a fledgling
vampire he presumed she'd been instructed to be innocuous, something her
wizarding heritage of hiding with Muggles and her Auror training would have
reinforced. Her appearance was designed to give the illusion of normalcy and
harmlessness and while she was harmless to him, he did not discount the damage
she could do if he used her correctly. But before he could even consider that,
there was something more important the Serpent Lord had to know. There were
some things that were unforgivable and if she had known then, while her life
span was measured in years, they would be years of agony.
       "Did you know?" he asked.
       "Know what?" Arabella returned the question. She had the good taste to
look genuinely unsure as to what he was asking.
       Voldemort resisted the urge to lash at her with his power as he forcibly
reminded himself that it was possible she did not know and an inkling of an
idea formed. "Perhaps it is possible you do not know," he murmured, half to
himself and half to calm her as she had become tense knowing full well his
volatile temper. "Tell me about Harry," he instructed looking at her fully.
       "About Harry?" She once again questioned his request, her tone confused.
       "You were the Auror assigned to watch him, so tell me about him. I am
curious to know about the boy that the wizards hold as a saviour," he added the
last hoping to put her at ease with the thought of his downfall.
       She smiled despite of the situation she was in, the expression gone
almost before it appeared. "He was a quiet boy. With that overbearing whale of
a cousin it was easy to lose him and I think half the neighbours forgot he even
existed. That's kind of hard though because he has... well I don't know what it
is," Arabella searched for the words, her voice becoming softer, less
confrontational as she recalled her memories. "A sense of presence," she
decided speaking gently. "Even when he was trying not to be noticed, you just
knew he was there, not in a bad way, of course, but just in the way that you
always knew where he was. Well... I did anyway, though perhaps that's because
of the magic. No one else seemed to notice him quite as much."
       "Oh, they did," the Dark Lord interjected, a note of steel underlying
the soft velvet of his voice.
       "Well my cover was as that irascible old cat-obsessed biddy down the
street and since I was there to watch him, I noticed him. I know why Harry had
to stay with his relatives, but I think someone should have better explained it
to them. Or maybe they did and they were just Muggles. They weren't exactly
happy to have to take care of him but they did. You could tell though,
sometimes they wanted him elsewhere. Not often, just sometimes though with that
spoilt whale of a son taking their attention it just appeared they weren't
noticing him. I reported it, but was told he needed to stay there... for all
the good it did," she muttered the last, thinking back on the night the Dark
Lord had decided to come for Harry.
       "It did make a difference," Voldemort told her.
       "Could have fooled me," she retorted with spirit.
       "Without the blood protection, I would have come for him, or one of my
followers would have a lot earlier and he would be dead. Assuming he made it to
his first year at Hogwarts, he would not have made it to the second year, that
I assure you. It did take quite a bit of planning to cut through those defenses
as easily as I did."
       "Well... maybe they did do some good but... sometimes I think it would
have been better if he was with someone else."
       "Perhaps," the Dark Lord said. "Go on," he added the instruction.
       "There's not much more to say," Arabella replied. "Not unless you have
something specific you want to know."
       "There is," he said, concentrating slightly to transport a thin sheaf of
parchment into her hands. It wouldn't take her long to read and he'd know from
her reaction if she had known.
       "What's this?" Arabella questioned, forgetting for a moment who she was
talking to and what he represented. The Dark Lord was surprisingly... nice all
things considered, but she was aware that he was assessing her worth and she
knew from her training as an Auror that this Lord had mastered the subtleties
of appearing friendly. He knew that there was no point in making an enemy, even
of one bound to obey such as she was. If he wanted to be civil though, she
supposed she would return the favour, but she would watch him carefully and she
would not be surprised when civility ended and he once again became the brutal
creature of Dark she knew he was.
       "Just read it; you will no doubt recognise the seal."
       Looking down she did recognise the seal which shone slightly with magic.
Wax held the parchment pieces together but stamped into the wax was the seal of
the High Wizard Tribunal, the ultimate governing body for Wizards. As she
looked, the illusion embedded into the seal activated and she saw the two
crossed wands spring out of the parchment, the point of impact defined by small
sparks and a laurel of an omega surrounded the two. Unless this was one of the
best forgeries she had ever seen, this was a legitimate document.
       "How did...?" she started, not quite sure how to phrase the question.
"Where did...?"
       "Just read it," the Serpent Lord replied, waving one hand slightly to
dismiss any further inquiry.
       Arabella broke the seal with some trepidation, not really seeing as the
illusion wavered and vanished as the parchment opened. These were official
documents she decided somewhat glumly wondering what was so important for her
to read. But the parchment bore the heavy feel of the High Tribunal and was
shot through with tiny gold veins. Stamped over the writing though was a charm
of concealment, or what was left of one and she shivered involuntarily. This
was the testament from a sealed case, one that as not meant to ever become
public.
       She scanned through the basic details, feeling her eyes widen with each
name she read... Dumbledore, Harry Potter, Lucius Malfoy and others she didn't
recognise... What were they doing in court together? Chief Judge Gilamy Horton
was a name she recognised and respected. His reputation was severe, but he was
one of the toughest but fairest judges who took the hardest cases. Seeing his
name was not comforting.
       She read on, before flinging the parchment from her as she spun,
instinctively turning away as she retched, grimacing in pain as her stomach
muscles contracted on an empty stomach. She couldn't stop though and coughed as
her eyes watered, the tears streaming down her face. The ex-Auror had forgotten
this. On high level cases the testament was be-spelled to make you actually
feel the evidence, to make you see the case. It was an effective way to prevent
questions about the legitimacy of the decision by those who weren't there and
who didn't have the facts and in this case... Arabella shuddered, wiping her
mouth reflectively as she brought herself back under control.
       The Dark Lord watched her reaction impassively, his eyes showing nothing
as she took several deep breaths to steady herself. Breathing wasn't necessary
for a vampire, but she was still close to human and the reflex helped to calm
her. Arabella wasn't ashamed by her reaction; if anything the rising sense of
guilt and shame was brought about by her inaction... she'd been set to watch
young Harry and she'd missed... How the hell did Muggles do that... how did
they hide that...?
       "Well, did you know?"
       "I... what... No!"
       "Did youknow?"
       Arabella flinched away. If Voldemort had screamed or shouted she would
have been more comforted yet his voice was soft and quiet, displaying more raw
menace and power than she really wanted to deal with. Even Kisha at her
angriest had been less frightening.
       "No, the Dursleys were normal..."
       "Did you know?"
       "They always had visitors, but so did everyone else..." the young
vampire stumbled at her words, struggling to breathe at the presence that was
focused upon her.
       "Did you know?"
       "With Vernon's business it was normal for people to come and yeargh!"
she screamed as a lance of power ripped through her, making her arch on the
spot, quivering as her muscles locked and twisted of their own accord.
       "You are making excuses," the Dark Lord said softly. "Did youknow?"
       Desperate to escape Arabella did the only thing she could, grasping at
the power Kisha had bestowed upon her with her making, even so the Serpent
Lord's grip was such that she couldn't completely shake his power, or else her
master's wish that she serve was still in effect.
       "Of course I didn't know!" she screamed back at him. "If I'd have known
you wouldn't have the Muggles to torture!" she added as a rage filled her. She
still felt guilty, and sickened by what she had felt, but she wasn't the one to
blame for this and she wanted to rend things for it. Her fledging power whipped
around her, but the Dark Lord didn't even flinch as he extended his force
again.
       Arabella felt a flash of panic as the power cut through her newly-raised
defences and then all she felt was pain as everything in her seemed to writhe
against everything else. She didn't feel herself fall to the ground as the
sensations warred for attention. She felt nauseous and cold at the same time as
she burned and her lungs screamed for air, but the passage of wind in her
throat sent tickles of ice and flame around her neck and she choked.
       :She didn't know,: a whisper came eventually, followed by a deliberate
foot fall as someone else entered the room, stepping out from the shadows.
       For a moment Arabella thought it was her master, but as the Dark Lord's
power weakened slightly on her she looked up and saw the face of death.
       "Do you think if she'd known, I'd have let her out of the Atrium alive?"
       The pain the Dark Lord had caused vanished, washed away by pure
unreasoning panic. Arabella got her body working well enough to scramble away
from the new speaker. She only got a couple of yards before she collapsed
again, still trying to flee but a couple of yards was more distance than
before. Black hair, black eyes, and black clothes. The ... thing before her was
plain, but she could feel the pull of his power, feel her vampiric blood
reacting to the one who had killed so many of her brothers and sisters... even
if she didn't want them as brothers and sisters.
       Voldemort inspected the newcomer for a moment. He was going to have to
have a word with the Shadows about defences and soon, but he was experienced
enough to play along. "No," he said softly and while the word was denial, his
tone was agreement. "I don't suppose you would have if she had known." He let
his power fade from the youngling vampire. "But I also don't expect that she is
important enough for you to come visiting."
       "Ah, quite true," came the equally soft reply, the voice pitched so as
to be unrecognizable though definitely male. "I'm here for a few reasons, but
let us first deal with this one," the Shadow's Servant said, turning towards
the vampire. "They have one thing they wish to know, Arabella," he said gently,
his tone lightly inquisitive without being forceful. "Have you taken of Kisha's
blood and bite?"
       The Dark Lord stirred at the question. He could tell the vampire
youngling was Xeoaph's childe, but because her blood called to his and he'd
assumed that she was merely a servant of the elder vampire. But if she was also
a childe... In the end it would mean nothing, but it did perhaps open other
avenues to be pursued.
       "I ... ah..."
       "Answer him, little one," Voldemort instructed, his voice carrying the
coerciveness of master to servant, and her vampiric elder's words had made her
his servant and she could not disobey.
       "Yes," Arabella confessed, looking down at the ground. "Xeoaph made me
and while that means I am subject to Kisha's orders, she prefers more direct
control and so she remade me. I cannot take Xeoaph on though, if that is what
you are thinking."
       The Serpent Lord was slightly surprised when the Shadow Servant laughed
quietly. "Nothing of the sort, my dear Auror, however were you to make such a
move you would find yourself supported by the Shadows, even though for now
you'd be doomed to fail."
       The young vampire nodded. "I'm not strong enough yet," she admitted and
the Dark Lord blinked, realising now what he should do with her.
       "I, like the Shadows could probably push you to the point where you had
the power," he said, "but you lack the experience," he added, "something Xeoaph
discounted too heavily when he backed Lucius." The Dark Lord brought his hands
together as the Shadow Servant nodded at him, stepping back slightly to allow
him to once again take control of the situation. "Since your usefulness as a
combat vampire is limited by your youth Arabella, I am forced now to find an
alternate use for you. You will, I trust, therefore ignore the blatantness of
the following questions. Would the Auror's accept you back?"
       Arabella rose, trembling slightly as she steadied herself on her feet
against one of the pillars of the Serpent Lord's throne room. The Shadow
creature was still there, but he had withdrawn slightly and didn't appear to be
paying much attention. She couldn't sense him either as a vampire or wizard and
the only reason she knew he was still there is that she had yet to take her
eyes from him. While his previously demonstrated ability in the Atrium was
proof enough that she was unlikely to be able to defend against anything he
could do to her, she wasn't about to let him strike her from behind. If she was
to die, she wanted to at least attempt to defend herself. But it appeared that
the Shadow creature had lost interest in her after that one question and now
was watching Voldemort with a slightly calculating gaze, a gaze the Dark Lord
did not see because his attention was focused on her.
       She shook her head, both to answer the question and to clear it. There
was too much going on here that she didn't understand; too many chances for her
to make a fatal misstep and she didn't want to die. Nor did she wish to become
a living symbol of an alliance she had nothing to do with. "With the current
state of affairs between the Order of the Phoenix and Vampires, they might
accept me," she elaborated "but as soon as that's over, I'd be over too." She
concluded with a small shudder at the thought of her death at Auror hands. The
Shadow creature nodded slightly, as if agreeing with her.
       Voldemort showed no reaction, but a slightly flickering of his eyes
showed he was considering her answer. "Well then, what do you want?"
       The question took her by surprise. As an Auror, she'd been ordered to
serve her duty; her desires didn't come into it. The Dark Lord had certainly
not asked her opinion when he used her against Xeoaph, nor had that vampire
when he turned her. Kisha had been slightly more considerate, but in the end,
the elder vampire's desires were absolute. What did she want?
       "I don't want to be a vampire," she blurted the first thing that came to
mind.
       "That wasn't exactly my intention, either," the Dark Lord said with an
amused lilt to his voice. "But nor is that something I can change. What else do
you want?"
       "I don't want to serve you."
       That reply earned her a hissing chuckle. "As I recall, I do not want you
to serve me. Though I do wonder... If you do not wish to be a vampire, yet you
are one, and you do not wish to serve me, but by your master's command you are
now bound to, why have you not killed yourself?"
       "I do not wish to die yet," Arabella said with some heat.
       "Well this does leave us with a quandary, though not one that is
unsolvable. I believe, I will give you a gift," the Dark Lord said.
       "A gift?" the former Auror questioned uncertainly, her doubt plain to
hear.
       Arabella felt her breath catch in her throat as her attention focused on
the Dark Lord. The movement was subtle, but it was there as he gathered his
power and alarmed, she tensed, replaying his words through her mind... A
gift... that would only mean one thing. She lacked the desire to kill herself,
even though she loathed her current predicament. He was not so inhibited and as
his hand moved towards his wand, her eyes narrowed as her power gathered. She
didn't have to block it all; she just had to dodge him. That would be enough to
save her. Her power gathered as she prepared to fight her creators' command of
servitude and as she raised her hands to strike, there was a flash from her
side, followed instantly by a hot pain and she knew darkness as she fell.
       "Very smooth," the Dark Lord complimented his guest as the young vampire
fell in a compact heap. He hadn't missed her power spikes, but she had
obviously forgotten the Shadow Servant was still here.
       "Don't get used to it," the man said as he stepped forward into the
light, moving over to the young vampire before crouching beside her. As the
Dark Lord watched, he pushed back her sleeve and made a quick incision with a
dagger drawn from his belt. A sluggish stream of crimson oozed from the wound
that was already closing itself and the Shadow Servant wasted no time in
collecting the blood, filling several vials that he held expertly between his
fingers. When the three were full, he wiped away the excess blood and pulled
her sleeve back into place, letting the arm fall again before he rose and
stoppered each vial. He re-sheathed his dagger and tucked two of the vials into
a belt pouch. The third he kept out and was spun idly though his fingers as he
examined the Dark Lord.
       Voldemort was not offended by such an intense gaze and indeed he used
the time to assess the man he had heard about but had never seen. He knew who
he was of course, but this was the first time he'd actually seen the man. More
importantly, he did not know who lay behind that mask. Was it some wizard the
Shadows controlled entirely, or was it someone Harry trusted... someone who
knew Harry's true heritage and who therefore knew what his true relationship
was with the Boy Who Lived?
       Eventually the man sighed, clenching the vial in one fist as he ran his
other hand through his hair. "I still do not see it," he said softly.
       "See what?" The serpent Lord enquired.
       "What the Shadow Lord sees in you," came the response before another
sigh. "But I suppose I do not have to see it," the man continued. "All I need
to know is that you are true and I can see that clearly enough."
       Voldemort smirked. "And if you don't?"
       "You won't live past the day I don't," came the ice cold reply without
the faintest trace of bravado or doubt, and the Dark Lord felt himself nod as
the surety of the voice recognizing the promise for what it was.
       This man was not threatening; it was merely a statement of fact,
something the Shadows confirmed with their flicker. For them though it was
still somewhat playful as if daring him to try, but it carried the promise that
they would be behind this man if it came to it.
       "That will not happen," Voldemort said confidently as he closed his red
eyes, thinking of his mate. "It will not happen," he repeated, looking back
towards the Shadow Servant to find him gone, along with the youngling vampire,
leaving behind the last vial of blood on the stone.
       "What..?" Voldemort questioned.
       :You were going to let her go, weren't you?: the Shadows said, their
voice echoing with amusement at his reaction.
       "Yes, but..."
       :Well then, our Servant will take her and let her go somewhere where it
is safe to do so. Then we can see what path she walks.:
       "I expect her to go back to the vampires," Voldemort said, recovering
slightly. The Shadows had pre-empted his request and that was actually good. If
they did this voluntarily, he didn't have to pay them for the service.
       They chuckled as his thought. :Now you are getting the hang on it,: they
said cheerfully before returning back to the subject of the ex-Auror. :Yes, she
will most likely go back to the vampires, which will in due course, lead back
to us.:
       Voldemort nodded, knowing that that 'us' referred to him as well.
Arabella would go back to the vampires because that's the only life she had
left unless she decided to become a complete recluse or hide within the Muggle
population. Neither of those options were likely or feasible and Voldemort
smiled; he knew she knew that. Which meant the vampires, and with her power
having been re-made by Kisha, Arabella would, over time gather much influence
with them. And when they rose against him, as they would invariably do, he
would be waiting and the duty laid upon her by Kisha would be claimed.
       He summoned the vial to him, tucking it into his sleeve. It always was
much more pleasant when people participated in their own downfall and he did so
hope that in time, Kisha would appreciate her handiwork.
===
       "Harry," Hermione said as they sat down for lunch.
       "Yes?"
       "You know that book you got me for my birthday?"
       "You mean the one I gave to you a couple of days ago on that joyous
occasion?" Harry asked. For no apparent reason, he was feeling somewhat
whimsical.
       "Yes, that one," Hermione confirmed with a frown, "How do you open it?"
She asked in a rush.
       Green eyes twinkled in much the same way as Dumbledore's were known too.
"Oh, I imagine it will open when it feels the time is right," he said to her,
helping himself to some sandwiches before passing the plate down the table.
       "Harry!" she objected, hitting him lightly on the arm.
       "Please mate, could you just tell her?" Ron begged. "She's going to be
intolerable unless she can read it," he took the sting out of his words with
the smile he directed towards Hermione.
       Harry grinned at his friends. "It really will open when it thinks the
time is right," he repeated softly. "There's no trick to it or anything like
that, but I promise it will be worth the wait."
       "It better be," Hermione said in a huff. In the relative quiet routine
of classes after the adventure on the Express she thought that they had perhaps
forgotten her birthday and when she had woken that morning to find them
treating the day as nothing unusual, that belief had been reinforced. She still
didn't know how Ron had managed to keep his mouth shut the entire day until the
evening, when she had come back from the library to find the Gryffindor common
room festooned with streamers and a large cake in the middle of the room. The
entire House had sung Happy Birthday to her as she'd stood in the doorway her
cheeks flaming red.
       Even if she was embarrassed she was grateful to her House Mates and
while the point of a birthday was not for the presents, she had been touched by
how thoughtful they had been. Even Harry's which she couldn't open was great.
She could tell it was rare and that it would be something she treasured once
she had read it... though it was frustrating waiting. She was sure Harry knew
how to open it but he obviously was holding back on something. In his twinkling
eyes there had also been the hint of knowledge.
       She wasn't sure Harry was having a lot of fun this year. In class he
usually sat near the back and only answered questions when asked. Hermione knew
that the others in Arithmancy and Ancient Runes had wondered why he was there
during their first classes. The wonderers had shut up very quickly when he'd
answered some of the questions posed to him with dry, concise and in depth
explanations that frankly, left most of them shaking their heads wondering
about the truth of the answer... Right up until the Professors had agreed with
him. Now though he still went to class but he was working on other things.
       He may have been used to having the Dark Lord after him, but there was
something unnerving about how calmly he was reacting. Hermione had read the
interview that had come out in the paper the day after the news of Azkaban had
been published. It was astounding how candid the Dark Lord had been and if she
took what the reporter Elliot Bryant had written as not being overly edited
then she had so many questions and she could almost begin to see why the Dark
Lord had taken his path. But that was only if what she read was really there
and not editorial artefact. After reading Skeeter's articles, the muggleborn
witch was cautious. She was also fairly sure that Harry could answer her
questions as well, maybe not immediately but he may be privy to information
about the Dark Lord via his memories. She just didn't know how to ask because
asking would touch on several very raw nerves.
       She wasn't blind; she hadn't missed how Harry was up before them all
every day. She hadn't missed the way he sometimes snapped at people for no
apparent reason or how he looked both sad and so angry at the same time when he
thought no one was looking. She knew what happened last year, she had a fair
idea something had happened while he was with the Dursley's too though he'd
never mentioned it and she felt sick on his behalf. It was probably a good
thing that he was angry but she didn't want that anger to cause him to make a
mistake with the Dark Lord. And even if she was right about the Serpent Lord,
proving her suspicions did not lead to any solutions.
       Hermione looked over at Harry and wished there was some way she could
help him. She couldn't even help him with his homework! Not since his N.E.W.T.s
had been revealed and he had told them he was going to start his Mastery in
some subjects. About the only thing she could think of was to be there for him.
And that just didn't seem enough.
===
 
 
***** Battles Are Fought On All Ground *****
Weapon
Chapter 27 Battles Are Fought On All Ground
===
       Voldemort sat with his eyes half closed just listening to the screams.
To him it seemed that everyone was holding their breath, just waiting for his
forces to strike again and they would and had been. Almost every day brought a
small skirmish between his Death Eater's and the Ministry and already he could
see that the Ministry was gearing up for Halloween. It was a night of power for
him but he could feel that this year it would be different.
       It wasn't his forces. They would be recovered in time, though the
werewolves would not yet be in his thrall. He hadn't been too happy at Fenrir's
report until the werewolf Pack Leader had pointed out that when he won the
battle for Pack Leader of the Isles then most of the werewolves would follow
him. A few, like the Order Member, Remus Lupin wouldn't follow but that was a
small price to pay. He had sensed reluctance from Gideon as well. The werewolf
had reported back to him and the Shadows had confirmed that they had seen to
his escape, though they hadn't said why but the werewolf had changed. From the
small amount of observation the Dark Lord had been able to engage in, he rather
thought that his young werewolf was enamoured of the Shadows. If that's all it
was, then Voldemort could afford to be forgiving. If it was something else...
well there was only one punishment for those who disobeyed him.
       Those Death Eater's, both new and old, who had recovered enough were
currently amusing themselves torturing Lucius's followers. Lucius himself was
strung up nearby and occasionally the Serpent Lord would send a crucio his way.
For the most part, it was the elder Malfoy's punishment to watch. Apart from
the crucio spells Lucius was not completely unharmed, the iron torc was still
around his neck, as were the bracelets and anklets and with his loyal Death
Eater's indulging themselves the metal had heated up rather significantly.
Additionally, while the Dark Lord considered it rather crude, he was indulging
in some experimentation. Small metal hooks had been driven into the wizard's
flesh and they were being pulled taunt by wire. Not so tight as to rip flesh
but tight enough that they were causing Lucius pain. The small noises of
discomfort he was making were proof of that.
       Voldemort rose. While his loyal forces were entertaining themselves he
had his own duties to attend to. There were those who had tried to come back to
the fold that he had to deal with. It was a simple thing he needed to do and
after he had driven his dagger into each heart, he flicked his hand,
transporting the bodies back into storage. They would go to feed the various
creatures who had come at his call.
       He tried to bring his mind back around to why Halloween did not feel
right but his dear Bellatrix and her team chose that moment to return, striding
into the hall confidently. She looked around for a moment before an
insalubrious smile fixed itself on her features. "My Lord," she said, her voice
sensuous when she saw Lucius. "Allow me to wring your name from this traitor."
       "Ah, my dear Bellatrix," Voldemort almost purred and he watched her
quiver in happiness. "No words of mercy for your dear brother in law?"
       She snorted. "He's not."
       "My dear?"
       "He's not my brother in law."
       "Bella," the Dark Lord said in a tone that clearly indicated that she
should not delude herself.
       "He is not my brother in law because Narcissa is not my sister."
       Voldemort sighed. He knew there would be some damage from Azkaban but if
Bellatrix could not tell reality from what she might wish then this could be
dangerous for him.
       "Narcissa Malfoy nee Black, youngest daughter of Cygnus and Druella
Black, wife of Lucius Malfoy, mother of Draco Malfoy, sister of Bellatrix
LeStrange nee Black and Andromeda Tonks nee Black."
       Bellatrix smiled at him. "All of that is true my Lord, except for her
being my sister.'
       "Your desire to disown her is admiral..." the Dark Lord started, trying
to be reasonable.
       Bellatrix looked to the ground, almost ashamed, which was odd, because
she was never ashamed unless some prisoner she had been torturing died before
she was complete and then her shame was more anger. "I'm not meant to know, my
Lord. Narcissa is not my sister, though every blood test you or the goblins or
anyone can do will show that. She was adopted into the house of Black."
       "I did not think such a thing would have been tolerated," Voldemort said
softly, gesturing for Bellatrix to come close, close enough that he did not
need to ward the entire floor so that they could speak privately. He trusted
his Death Eaters to a point but there was information they did not need to
know. This seemed very much like that. He was mildly surprised when one of the
Shadows crept close enough to be included in the warding. They also seemed
interested in this. Lucius was also suspended within the warding and the
Serpent Lord could see that the blond rebellion leader was also interested.
       "My Lord, you know I'm not from the Main branch of the House of Black.
While the sub families can expect some help from the Main Family, we don't have
access to the vault and we are expected to make our own way in contributing the
prestige of the House. Obviously we needed money and power and that's how it
happened, my Lord. Narcissa's mother had both power and money and in exchange
for us adopting Narcissa as the younger sister, my Father received a lot of
galleons."
       "Interesting. Who was her mother?"
       Bellatrix shook her head, black hair whipping around slightly as if to
emphasise her denial. "I'm sorry, my Lord, I don't know. I only ever saw the
woman once when she brought Narcissa and cast all the charms to make everything
official."
       "She used charms?" The charms used to hide blood status required a
ridiculous amount of power but were also notoriously easy to detect and break.
       "There were some potions as well," Bellatrix added with a small shudder
as she remembered the taste.
       That was more likely, Voldemort considered. In the past it had not been
that unusual for purebloods to adopt another pureblood child though as per
usual they did not like to admit it and the charms and potions had been
developed to hide all evidence of the adoption from the rest of the wizarding
world. If you had spread the story that your wife was pregnant and at the
appropriate time she appeared with a babe in arms, no one asked too many
awkward questions and the potions and charms ensured that any blood ancestry
tests revealed your newly adopted child to be a part of your family.
       "So your father ended up with money he could not use and you with a
younger sister."
       "Yes, my Lord."
       "Was anything else said about her adoption?"
       "Only that Narcissa would be powerful enough to be a member of the House
of Black.'
       The Serpent Lord suddenly remembered Draco as the blond had been when he
was fighting him in the wreckage of the Express. His spells and charms, while
predictable, had been cast with great power. He nodded at Bellatrix. "At least
on that, the deal was upheld. Why did you never tell me this before?" The
Shadows had indicated that Narcissa was blocking them. Could this be because of
her unknown bloodline?
       "I didn't remember before, my Lord."
       Ah, another memory charm made obsolete by extreme and prolonged exposure
to Dementors. Voldemort nodded and let the warding fade. He needed to think on
this but before he could settle, he was interrupted by Lucius' dry laughter.
The man had been interested in Bellatrix's announcement, probably to take his
mind off the pain but now, despite his predicament he seemed genuinely happy.
       "I always wondered why Cissy said I never need worry about the
inbreeding of the Blacks," he rasped.
       Bellatrix whirled, her face drawn in a snarl and her teeth bared towards
the elder Malfoy as if she was some type of animal. "What did you say?" she
demanded in a hiss.
       "Such a fine display of inbreeding," Lucius murmured.
       Black hair flew wildly as Bellatrix screamed and levelled her wand at
Malfoy. "Avada Kedrava!"
       With barely two metres between them, it was hard to believe anyone could
miss and Bellatrix was left staring when Lucius twitched and the brilliant
green curse flew passed him. An instant later he seemed to be covered by
darkness and the new Head of the House of LeStrange turned to confront her
master when he chided her.
       For those Death Eaters who had been watching the entire time, it was
confirmation of what they had already known. Bellatrix had drawn her wand and
cast, seemingly without warning but they had seen their Lord's wand ready
before the witch had even reached for hers. Their Lord was always alert, even
with his most loyal followers.
       Bellatrix was confronted by the very avatar of what she worshiped.
Voldemort was still sitting but he was wreathed in darkness and around him was
the largest serpent she had ever seen. Its neck came down over her Lord's
shoulder so that her Lord seemed to be watching her from above it. The snakes
tongue flickered as it tasted the air and she could see the barest hint of
yellow under its closed eyelids. Nagini was present as well, still wrapped
around the bottom of Voldemort's throne but she seemed lost in the coils of the
other reptile.
       "Bellatrix," it was Lucius who spoke with sudden force. "Look upon your
Lord and see! See the serpents he has always been allied with but see also the
darkness, the Shadows that wish to consume everything. Look upon him and know
that this is not the Lord you once knew.
       "I made a mistake. I assumed that his change was obsession but I was
wrong. It is not obsession; it is complete and utter capitulation.
       "The time has come to choose and he already has chosen to abandon you.
Look at him Bellatrix, look at him and see!"
       "Shut up!" Bellatrix screamed at Lucius and this time her spell was true
and Malfoy began screaming. "I see my Lord, at the height of his power. I see
that the serpents have been true, which is more than can be said for the likes
of you! I see that the darkness obeys him! I see that he is everything,
everything, the Lord I swore my life to should be. You made a mistake! Ha! I
spit upon your words. You rose above yourself!"
       "Bellatrix," Voldemort said in a gentle tone. He was aware of her
affection for him and it cost him little to give her small courtesies that she
viewed as reciprocation. "As much as I'd like to let you kill him, he hasn't
been punished enough."
       "He will never be punished enough!"
       "Oh, he will be, in time," the Dark Lord disagreed mildly. "Soon enough
he will be begging for forgiveness, in between screaming to die. And so until
that time, he gets the dubious pleasure of living. I promised dear Lucius that
he would be screaming my name before he died, and I am a man of my word."
       "My Lord!" She objected.
       "It is enough Bellatrix. He is here because he is not as wise as you. He
never was asked the question but his answer is plain. Lucius believes blood
alone is enough and that is why he failed. Power is the key and it is power he
believes I have capitulated to, when in reality it is power that I have bought!
And the irony is now Lucius," Voldemort turned to smile at his prisoner, "your
life and those of your followers are also serving as my coin to pay the power
that defeated you. I wish now to seduce their master, because with him at my
beck and call, the price is already paid."
       "You see Bellatrix," Lucius gasped as the effects of the crucio curse
faded from his body. "When it comes to a choice between the Death Eater's and
his new so called allies, you will be dropped."
       Voldemort smirked. Lucius did so like to be dramatic. "Nothing has
changed. If you go against my desires, you are my enemy and every ally is
weighed against others. Know this Bellatrix, they are allies of the highest
order and if you go against them, I will not help you. And that has always been
my way."
       "Yes my Lord," the dark haired witch murmured as though chastened,
regardless that he had done nothing of the sort.
===
       :Hello Severus,: the Shadows greeted the Potion Master as he made his
way to his quarters.
       He tried to ignore them. He tried so hard and sometimes it was hours
before they could recapture his attention. It was an amusing part of the game
for them, a game that was nearly at its end.
       :You haven't really had a good day, have you Severus?: The Shadows
continued conversationally. The Potion Master only ever spoke to them at the
entry to his rooms so they were not perturbed by his lack of response. He spoke
then because he believed his quarters were sufficiently warded from them. Very
soon he would find out otherwise.
       :All you have to do is accept our offer and you can be away from here,
and just think what a relief that would be. How long did it take you to clean
up that First Year mess?: It was perhaps cruel to mention the explosion that
the First Year Hufflepuff's had caused when they had inadvertently mixed
together coarse chopped bat fur with julienned moonflower. Normally you'd think
those two ingredients went together. They didn't, and the results were rather
spectacular.
       :Three... four hours? And let's not mention the Fourth Year Ravenclaws.
You would think they would have the good taste to shut up but no... It's always
'why this' and 'why that'... Surely they could read the answers out of the
text... We sympathise, Severus, we truly do. It's probably a good thing most of
them will drop Potions for Sixth Year. Then they would really be annoying!
       :And let's not forget about the vampire; always wanting to know about
our dear Harry! You could talk to him you know. Both of them actually but we
really meant the vampire. He'd understand... He can't help you but he'd
understand. Or he'd pretend he did. It's so hard to tell with a vampire that
old, isn't it?
       :Or you could talk to our dear Harry. We know you aren't afraid. You are
Severus Snape, spy extraordinaire for the Order of the Phoenix. Nothing makes
you afraid... so why haven't you spoken to our dear Harry? It's not like you
haven't had weeks of opportunity... Ah... could it be you don't trust him? Now,
now, now, Severus, that's bad. Harry is a fellow member of the Order of the
Phoenix. The controls your Dark Lord left in him have been destroyed. And you
know, just as we do, that there were controls left there. Why do you doubt? Do
you doubt Fawkes?
       :Maybe you should since he's no longer keeping us at bay? But maybe
that's because he's keeping the Dark Lord at bay instead. It's all very
complicated, isn't it? You should talk to Harry though, Severus. Unlike the
vampire, who would just pretend to understand, dear Harry will understand
completely. But you won't, will you? Because it's so much nobler to suffer in
peace and because you don't trust our dear Harry, despite everything that has
happened to prove to you that he is not the Dark Lord's pawn, you still don't
trust him.
       :That could either be very wise, or it could be your undoing. You might
want to think about which it is, Severus.
       :Though think about this also Severus, if you take up our offer, then it
won't matter. The Dark Lord, the Order of the Phoenix, that vampire, dear Harry
and of course all the lovely students you so look forward to teaching every
day... All of that will become meaningless and you can concentrate on what is
important...
       :The soft simmer of a potion, the gentle waft of the fumes, the
meticulous preparation and the perfection that comes from brewing. There will
be no more explosions, no more idiotic questions, you will be free! The Dark
Lord won't be able to find you, the Order will become a memory and the vampire
will die... though we admit, not immediately. And of course our dear Harry
won't be an issue either. Freedom, Severus, that's what we are offering,: the
Shadows kept a happy voice during the monologue.
       "Why?" Snape asked softly as he reached his door.
       :Why, Severus? Why do we offer you everything you've ever wanted? It's
simple, Severus, we have wanted you for a very long time. You know that, you've
seen us, you've heard us, and you've known us all your life. We have wanted you
and you know Severus, we are going to have you. You've made a mistake. You
probably don't think it's a mistake but it was. And very soon the Dark Lord is
going to call you to task for it.
       :The Order won't be able to save you, because the Order is a part of
this mistake. The Dark Lord will call you soon. He already knows you whisper to
Dumbledore. He accepts that because you whisper to him as well... but you've
whispered something you shouldn't have, you've whispered something he didn't
want the Old Coot to know and he will want you to pay for that.
       :Only we can save you, Severus. It will cost us, make no mistake about
that, but we can save you and we will save you if you take up our offer.
       :Think about it, Severus, what it really means! No students, no whinging
and whining and snivelling from them. No back chat, no idiotic questions and no
attempting to keep a balance in the House of Serpents. Think what it will mean
to you to not answer to the Dark Lord, to not answer to Dumbledore and to know
that it won't matter which side dear Harry is on because you are with us! And
therefore he too will be on your side.
       :And then Severus, think of the pain it will cause James Potter to know
that his son supports and protects you.: The Shadows laughed, they'd been
saving that little titbit for a while now.
       :Freedom, Severus. Freedom from the mutually exclusive magical oaths you
have sworn and all we want in return is for you to brew us a few little potions
while you pursue your own research.
       :No one will ever offer you a better choice.:
       "I know," Snape said as he stepped through the door.
       "I know," he repeated in a whisper as he leaned against the oak after
locking it and he was not surprised to feel tears running down his face.
===
       Harry sat under a tree near the lake. It was the first Quidditch game of
the year - Ravenclaw versus Hufflepuff - and usually he'd be watching avidly.
It wasn't quite the same as playing himself, but today he just couldn't bring
himself to watch. With the way he felt, if he was there he'd have said
something or done something that he would have regretted.
       He'd dreamed last night. He'd remembered everything that happened to
him. And as each of the men had pushed him into their favourite position he'd
been able to see Dumbledore, sitting in the high chair he used during feasts at
Hogwarts just watching. He supposed that was his mind's way of trying to tell
him who was responsible. A hot red anger was rolling around in him now and he
almost wished that his mind had come up with another way of representing that.
He felt dirty from the acts that had been inflicted, but it made him feel sick
and ashamed to think that someone had been watching even when he knew that the
Headmaster had not really been there and had not really been watching.
       The problem was of course that the Headmaster should have been watching.
He should have been keeping tabs on the Dursleys to ensure that everything was
okay. He hadn't been. And that just made Harry even angrier. Why hadn't anyone
cared? No one had been able to answer to him just why no one had bothered to
check up on him for eleven years! Obviously Sirius couldn't and as a werewolf,
Harry really didn't understand but he accepted that Remus would have been in
trouble if he tried, but surely there were others? And the Shadows had been
kind enough to check the Ministry for him and relate to him a few discrepancies
in his case. Then they had wrapped around him tightly, lovingly, whispering
that they would always be there. He thought perhaps that their presence was the
only thing that had kept him from exploding. Fawkes presence in his mind had
worked in the reverse then and he didn't know how it was possible but the
phoenix song had just reminded him of everything that had gone wrong.
       So he sat under the tree, holding back his power, trying to calm
himself, when everything seemed conspiring to make him angrier. Perhaps he
should just go to the Room of Requirement or even the Chamber of Secrets and
just attack anything. Maybe that would help with the frustration he felt.
       But no... He couldn't. Today he had been trapped, with the best
intentions of course, by his friends. Ron had been reluctant since he wanted to
watch the Quidditch game but had stayed as well and they were spread out around
him studying, though Luna's text was sitting next to her upside down. Ginny was
as close as she dared and he hadn't even been able to fake a wan smile for her.
Hermione was a metre or so away with her books spread out around her, their
pages weighed down by whatever was convenient, while Neville was beside Luna,
chewing on the end of his quill. If Harry hadn't of been so angry he'd have
been comforted and pleased by their actions.
       The Shadows were lazily playing in the dappled light cast by the sun
through the leaves overhead. No one had noticed them yet except for him and
occasionally he smiled at their antics but the smile always faded. Today he
could not forget and could not lose the anger. There was nothing special about
today yet somehow he couldn't shake the mood and the techniques he usually used
to calm down were ineffective.
       Maybe it was because, in addition to the rage and almost hidden by it,
there was a small scratchy feeling on the back of his neck; a feeling which
didn't go away no matter how much he rubbed, the feeling of someone watching
him. It hadn't been there all day. It had been there when he sat down and the
others joined him. He'd irritably assumed it had been an overawed First Year
but the feeling hadn't gone away and by now he'd have spotted an ikkle Firstie.
       Someone or something was watching him and while they were good enough to
avoid being spotted, they were not good enough to suppress their presence so he
could not feel them. And that was just another thing he was angry about.
===
       Draco sat in the Slytherin Common room. The Quidditch Game was on and
most of his House was watching that which left him relatively alone.
       Nothing was working out.
       His mother expected him to recruit his generation, but how could he do
that if no one even spoke to him? Blaise and Millicent weren't the only two who
regarded him with disdain. Most of the Seventh Years had laughed in his face
when he'd approached them. "Draco, your father is dead, your power is gone.
Deal with it," was about the nicest rejection he'd gotten and he'd been hard
pressed not to simply slam them all into the wall.
       He was stronger than them. They didn't know it, but he was! Yet they
continued to blindly follow the Serpent Lord. He supposed he really shouldn't
be that surprised. HE had followed the man avidly and blindly for much of his
school life, but then he had seen the truth. For the life of him, he couldn't
figure out how to show them that truth. Every time he opened his mouth to hint,
to guide, to suggest that Harry Potter wasn't all they thought he was,
something clamped his jaws shut or made him say something inane. The one time
he'd managed to get something out about the seemingly perfect Gryffindork, the
student, a Fifth Year, had just looked at him like he was insane and agreed
that, "Yes, Harry Potter was unusual, finishing his N.E.W.T.s at the end of his
Fifth Year and now being enrolled in four Mastery's! Of course he was unusual."
       That had ended the conversation and Draco had retreated in confusion.
       For all his efforts, subtle of course, he'd only managed to convince
some First and Second Year students that they should listen to him, and even
that victory had been very short-lived when the Seventh Years had told the
students something.
       With a growl, Draco created a small ball of power and let it hover in
his hand. It was his signature yellow and he spun it slowly, looking into the
depths. They would learn. They would ALL learn that they should have listened
to him. He'd be magnanimous and forgive most but there were a few who would
suffer.
       :Perhaps you will suffer,: There was a whispered voice and Draco looked
around frantically, the power in this hand somehow hardening.
       Words his mother had spoken to him came unbidden to his mind. 'If you
hear a voice Draco, do not think yourself insane. Look around for the speaker.
Look up, look down, look everywhere. Look into the shadows and if it seems as
if there is something there, do not hesitate, kill it. Cast the strongest
Solaris charm you can for what we fight against can be as insubstantial as
shadow but should never be treated as powerless. In this, there are no second
chances so it is best to strike and to deal with the aftermath in the event
that we are wrong.'
       He really hadn't known what she was talking about but as he looked
around the Slytherin Common Room he began to understand. There was no one
around but there were shadows and they did seem darker than they had any right
to be. He brought his wand out and flicked it through the motions of a spell
his mother had insisted he learn so completely that he knew he could cast it in
his sleep. "Solaris!" he said, voicing the words of the charm and allowing his
full power to flow through him.
       The little ball of power in his hand blazed up like the sun and Draco
expected to hear a hiss of pain or the patter of feet as whoever spoke
retreated. He did not expect to hear the clap of applause.
       "Well done, young Malfoy, but while such a thing may inhibit one of my
children, it has little effect on me."
       Draco let the light fade as he looked around. In the corner of the room
there was a vampire, but not just any vampire, and he suppressed a shudder as
he recognised the elder vampire, Xeoaph. This was the one his father had allied
with and for a moment he felt a stab of anger. Why was this vampire alive when
his father was dead?
       The vampire laughed, stepping forward. "The play of your emotions is
amusing, young Malfoy, but I am not here to hurt you."
       Draco wasn't sure why he said what he said next; he was sure though that
the vampire was not expecting it. "I don't think I meant it for you."
       Xeoaph's blue eyes opened wide before he flicked them around the common
room as the light from Draco's spell faded. "Perhaps not," the elder vampire
agreed, turning back towards the blond. "Perhaps you are more ready than I
thought."
       The blond Slytherin knew exactly what the vampire was talking about.
Perhaps he was more ready to fight Harry Potter, but even as Draco realised
that he and the vampire saw the same enemy, something clamped down around him
and he found himself unable to speak or even able to move in anything that
could be taken as agreement. Echoing through his mind, he heard that blasted
Potter's voice. "I don't mind that you remember what you've learned, but I
really don't want you spreading it around. It would get too messy, you
understand, and it really would be too easy for you!"
       Why that conniving, backstabbing, honourless Gryffindor! Here he was, in
the presence of someone who would believe him, who knew, but Draco could not
prove what he knew and was unable to speak a word of it.
       "I know the truth," he finally ground out. Truth was such a generic
statement that it could apply to anything and it was the best he could do to
let the vampire know he knew everything.
       "Or do you only think that you do?"
       Draco tried to scream but found the impulse denied. The vampire didn't
believe him or thought that he was talking about something else.
       "I know the truth," he said again, slowly, more forcefully. He really
wanted to say 'I know the truth you know' but the final two words died in his
throat and Draco could almost feel Potter's power tightening around his neck.
It gave him something else to think about. There had to be some way of breaking
the spell...
       "Ah youth," the vampire dismissed him. "I was hoping for more."
       Draco realised if he was going to say anything, then he had to go about
it another way. "Given the problems you've had with the other youth, do you
really want more?" No matter how much people had tried to keep the events of
Potter's DADA practical quiet, there had been gossip and his mother was an
expert at winnowing the truth from idle conversation.
       Xeoaph looked at him sharply and for an instant Draco thought the
vampire would see Potter's spell, but then his blue eyes softened and he looked
away again. "I suppose not," he murmured.
       "It can be troublesome, I know," Draco continued, not sure why he was
speaking but feeling that he had to try. "But it will be brought low,
eventually, if those who know the truth can see it."
       "Perhaps you do know the truth," Xeoaph murmured. "But I cannot help you
yet. When you can speak, come and see me and then we can consider the truth
properly."
       Draco nodded and he didn't even see the vampire leave. Perhaps things
weren't working out the way he hoped they would, but he had something to focus
on now. That pathetic Potter had put some sort of spell on him. It was time to
remove it. First though he needed to know what type of spell it was and that
required a trip to the library. Draco smiled, the voice completely forgotten as
he began thinking which spell it was that Potter could have used.
===
       In his werewolf form, Remus watched the skirmish before him. He was
loath to call it a battle, but he supposed that's what it really was. Most of
the pack leaders had decided to try their luck to become the Pack Leader of the
Isles and most of them were embroiled in the brawl. As a sign of goodwill, the
Shadows had offered all the Werewolf Pack Leaders either Wolfsbane or the
spell, but Fenrir had been derogatory and most of the others unconsciously
perhaps had also shied away from the possibility of maintaining their mind.
       That was probably why Remus was one of the few just observing the brawl
under the moonlight. Longtooth and Silverpelt were also watching, but they were
older werewolves and possessed more cunning than the others. Why risk injury in
a brawl when the winner took it all? Fenrir was predictably in his element and
Lupin could see him, his long grey fur almost constantly moving, sliding in and
out of the rest of them in the tussle, biting, clawing, ripping his way through
the other pack leaders. Greyback fought dirty; he fought as an animal and Remus
involuntarily shuddered at the thought of what the werewolves would become if
he was their leader. He was efficient at clearing out the competition and
several pack leaders had already surrendered.
       Not enough, though... and Remus calculated that they would be fighting
this out for a few months yet. That probably wasn't a bad thing, all things
considered. Pack Leader of the Isles was a position for life so they would need
someone with stamina and the will to see things through. He did hope that Harry
and Sirius would forgive him his absence. They should, but he missed them.
       With a snarl, Lupin leapt forward to bite and worry at the leg of one of
the pack leaders who had fallen awkwardly near the edge of the brawl. He wasn't
going to let himself be drawn into the fray until it settled down. There wasn't
much point in fighting in a position where you could not see who had attacked
and could not respond properly. Until it was thinned out more he would take his
opportunities as they presented themselves. Some would call it cowardly to
attack when they were down. Remus called it strategy. And he would need all the
strategy he could get to win.
===
       Sturges stood back. He really wasn't sure if he should allow this, but
he supposed this was probably the best time for experimentation. He had his
Auror team with him and he had the Auror Apprentice Harry Potter with them.
They had surrounded a wizarding property believed to be a stronghold of You-
Know-Who. Calling it a stronghold was really not accurate. It was a house, a
small house that had been set up in the nature of a manor. It had the sweeping
cream gravel driveway lined by small trees, and the pillared coach port
covering the front door. Bay windows flanked it, but they were dark as the
curtains were drawn tight. It sounded grand. But it belonged to a wizarding
family whose fortunes had not been going so well so the trees were not neatly
trimmed and there were places where the gravel was almost gone. If it housed
Death Eaters though, Sturges didn't care about any of that. All he cared about
was the most efficient way to get in.
       They'd found this house using something the goblins have given them. It
was similar to the scanning devices that monitored for underage magic, but it
wasn't tied into a wand. It scanned for the signatures of magic. At the moment
they could only scan a small area, but since they had found this house, it was
enough to prove that the devices worked.
       Now there were three things holding them back on the large-scale roll
out of them – one, man power; two, a lack of devices; and three, a lack of
recording of magical signatures. Man power would remain a problem for a while,
lack of the devices could be easily rectified and the recording of magical
signatures was already being conducted. It would only be a matter of time
before they had one of the Inner Circle of Death Eaters on file. Then they
could track them all.
       Sturges shook his head. They were all problems for the future and for
now, he had best focus on the present.
       Dumbledore had had a quiet word with him before they left the school and
Sturges wasn't sure he wanted to obey the Headmaster. It wasn't that the
suggestion was bad, no the suggestion was logical; it's just that it set such a
bad precedent! Dumbledore, for all his titles was just not a member in the
chain of command and to accede to his wishes was not something Sturges wanted
to get into the habit of. With a regretful sigh the Auror Captain realised that
he really didn't have much choice this time. He had to go with the suggestion
of the old wizard. Well...he didn't have to, but now made the best sense
because now was not a life and death battle. This would be the best time to
really see what Harry could do in battle, to see what Harry's servants could
do.
       Baross had not said much. Amelia had said more implying that the Shadows
were merely spies but the smile Harry had given him when he had asked the young
man what they could do spoke volumes. Somehow Sturges knew the Shadows were
more than just spies for their master.
       As they had set up the cordon, Harry had said a little more.
"Predominantly they spy for me," he'd started softly, speaking only loud enough
that Sturges could hear. "But under the right circumstances, they can do a lot
more. If you let me, I'll show you. But I warn you now, Captain, I can either
capture them or kill them. You have to make a choice before I start."
Unbeknownst to Sturges the Shadows had grumbled and complained into their
Master's head that they would not kill yet! They were being fully mysterious,
but they were insistent that something had to happen before they would kill at
their Master's command.
       There really wasn't that much choice in Sturges' mind. Capture. They
needed the information and he'd said as much to the young Potter. Green eyes
had flashed and the Auror Captain wasn't sure what had passed behind them, but
they had settled into understanding. Sturges had spent some time with Harry
since they'd inducted him as an Auror Apprentice. He was after all, one of his
teachers for his Mastery in Defence Against The Dark Arts and what he had
learned of the Boy-Who-Lived was that he was a complex person. It might have
been regret that it was not death that would be inflicted upon the Death
Eaters. Harry had more cause than anyone to want them dead, but he also
understood strategy and he was obedient enough that while his personal
inclination might be otherwise, he would submit to authority in this.
       Actually, Sturges wasn't quite sure what he was going to teach Harry for
Defence Against the Dark Arts. The young man seemed to already know everything,
and know it in such an ingrained way. He knew the theory and more importantly
he knew the practical and he knew it so well that he could improvise no matter
what the situation was that they had hypothetically created for him. The Auror
Captain wondered if his other Mastery teachers, those for Transfiguration,
Charms and Care of Magical Creatures were also running into the same problems.
It would look really bad if they awarded him his Mastery in less than a year!
       The signal interrupted his thoughts; everyone was in position and as far
as the spies could tell, the Death Eaters were inside and unaware that they
were surrounded. The anti-apparition and portkey wards were up and the house
had been disconnected from the floo. Sturges turned to his Apprentice, "All
right, Harry, you can begin, but remember we are here if you need back up."
       Green eyes smiled at him and Sturges could almost see the laughter, but
Harry nodded with perfect obedience and took a few steps forward towards the
house before he unexpectedly sat down. "Harry?"
       "It's all right," came the soft assurance. "I told you, I will show you
what they can do." Accompanying his words was a flash of darkness and
unconsciously Sturges' stepped back. He heard the "shing" of steel and he
didn't know where or how Harry had gotten the blade but there was a sword
resting across the young man's knees. Harry had one hand on the hilt and the
other was extended palm pressed flat against the edge near the tip. Now the
darkness seemed to surround Harry, almost hiding him completely in the night.
The Auror captain couldn't look away and he knew that his squad was feeling the
same.
       Silently, a thin line of darkness traced itself along the ground towards
the house. At an undefined signal the line split into two and almost instantly
it stretched to surround the house. Sturges' couldn't see the end of it, but he
could see the shape and he knew it was now a perfect circle, the circumference
of which should not include any of the Aurors. Was what Harry about to do that
dangerous?
       "Wrap," this time he heard the soft command and watched with morbid
fascination as the dark line extended, rippling along the ground to cover the
house. If he could fly, the Auror Captain knew that all he would see from above
now was a black circle on the ground with Aurors gathered around it. He tore
his eyes from the House and glanced towards his second. Kingsley watched with
the same rapt attention as the others. He may be a member of the Order of the
Phoenix, but Sturges suddenly knew that this was their first time as well truly
seeing what their youngest member could do. He suppressed a shudder. Ancient
power or not, it was creepy, almost like a lethifold and he wondered if a
patronus would have any effect and if Harry would let them try.
       The young man was still just sitting there with the darkness wrapped
around him. A wind ruffled his messy hair and fluttered the fabric of his
robes, but he didn't notice. Instead his face bore a soft smile and the Auror
Captain was startled at how peaceful it was. The most disconcerting thing was
the silence. If they had done this the normal way, by now there would be the
screams from the wounded and shouts from those still fighting. There would be
the sounds some spells made and maybe the sound of fire. This was so quiet that
Sturges could hear Kingsley's breathing; he could hear the faint noise of
cicadas in the distance and he fancied he could hear the rustle of leaves in
the garden beneath the shadow.
       Harry seemed to be holding the shadow in place for a long time and the
Auror Captain wondered what it was doing. It was just another thing to ask
Harry about. He doubted that the young man would be able to explain the magical
mechanics of what was happening, but he could at least explain what was
physically happening within the shadow.
       After what seemed an age, Sturges heard Harry whisper another command.
"Hold and return."
       The darkness seemed to surge and ripple and then great rips appeared and
disappeared as it moved. The boundary of the darkness did not change but within
it seemed alive and almost trying to break free of whatever was holding it in
place. That was only for a few moments before the shadow almost vanished, but
Sturges had not blinked. He had seen it sink through the house they had
cordoned off, going inside while the rest of it wrapped its way around the
trees and fence and everything else that was around the house. The cream gravel
driveway now looked like a black ribbon.
       Harry suddenly turned to him and the Auror captain wasn't the only one
who resisted the urge to step back. The boy's famous green eyes were almost
glowing and there was a small satisfied smile on his lips. "Would you like me
to bring them out or do you wish to go in after them, Sir?"
       Sturges' blinked at the question, for a moment not comprehending what
the Auror Apprentice could conceivably mean. Sure the darkness had been in
place over the house for a while, but it couldn't possibly be that easy, could
it? "We will go in," he heard himself say, before he shouted a few orders to
the waiting Aurors as Harry stood up.
       "There is also a small cache of Dark..." Harry paused, frowning as his
servants relayed the information. "Things," he said finally, "Dark things on
the second floor that were in a safe. I've opened the safe, but haven't done
anything with the items."
       The Auror Captain nodded. "Very good," he praised. "If you are
unfamiliar with what they are, then sometimes even opening their place of
concealment can be dangerous, but not touching is definitely the best answer.
Depending on what is there we'll deal with them, or call in the Unspeakables to
handle the items." Sturges gave Harry the explanation as members of his unit
began charging in the door. If they had of been fighting, he would have been
with them, in the first group, but charging into a house that had already been
subdued didn't require his personal touch in leadership. And besides, someone
owed it to the young man to give him a proper explanation. Kingsley had gone in
his stead.
       They didn't have to wait long before the Aurors began frog marching out
several people dressed in all too familiar black robes with white masks, though
most of the masks were now pinned to their robes and were almost invisible
under the ropes that were binding them.
       "Don't have the guts to kill us?" One of the Death Eater's shouted
towards Sturges, but he knew the taunt was directed at Auror Apprentice Potter.
       "Don't have the orders," Harry shouted back, apparently unconcerned and
Sturges smiled and nodded, ignoring the way the Aurors cuffed the Death Eater
who had spoken.
       "Very good, Harry, though you can just ignore them," Sturges murmured,
watching. There were quite a few Death Eaters being brought out and he hoped
Amelia would forgive him for the paperwork. He rather thought she would.
Filling out the paperwork that went with incarcerating criminals was far more
favourable than filling out the paperwork that went with reporting injuries and
deaths in the team. And they had done this without a mishap.
       "Thank you Harry, and very good work," Sturges said to his Apprentice.
"Your efforts here have meant that no one has been injured and we have the
chance to gain valuable information, and that's exactly what an Auror mission
should be like, even if we did use somewhat unconventional tactics."
       "Heh," Harry laughed softly. "Thank you for the opportunity," he replied
to the Auror Captain. "Not many would trust in unconventional tactics enough to
give them a try."
       "Harry, when I signed you up as an Auror Apprentice, both Madam Bones
and I took that signature seriously. We intend to give you the opportunity to
fight to the best of your ability and so sometimes we will use unconventional
tactics, while others we will go with a more traditional response. But at all
times, we will consider you a skilled wizard and a resource to the DMLE and as
much as you are willing, we will make use of that resource. All you need to do
is let us know you are available and that's that. I don't care what the Order
wants," Sturges said the last softly, but he knew the young man would hear the
truth in his voice. "Both Madam Bones and I have been fighting this war long
enough. Obviously, we don't want the Dark Lord to win, but we no longer care
who gets the credit for ending it. The DMLE will go on either way." He was
pleased to see the way Harry's eyes darkened slightly before the black haired
wizard nodded in understanding. It wasn't just a polite nod, either. The Auror
Captain could see that the boy really did truly understand what he was saying.
       "Call me, and I'll come. I take my signature seriously as well, and I
don't wish to leave the Aurors undermanned." It was almost a ridiculous
statement for an Apprentice to make and Sturges could really do nothing but
grunt a reply. "The Order isn't a part of the chain of command," Harry added
with a very small smile towards the Auror Captain whose face had gone from
carefully neutral to a full smile in an instant at his words.
       It seemed not everyone was as enamoured of the Order as Dumbledore
thought, and Sturges would be grateful to make use of that feeling. For now
though he had that cache of Dark items to deal with and many, many prisoners to
question.
===
       Voldemort slipped into Ollivander's shop. The wand maker had let him
know that the wand was ready and the Dark Lord was very happy to have heard
that. He wasn't sure exactly how he was going to use that wand, but he could
feel that it was necessary. He'd come early since that was the quietest time
and while he knew the wand maker would appreciate his discretion, he also
didn't particularly wish to be found. It wasn't exactly common knowledge that
he now used a wand of holly and that Harry bore one of yew and he wanted it to
remain that way. The last thing either of them needed was someone looking into
why that was.
       He had his own suspicions but it was something he could look into after
this year was over. It didn't matter to him especially as he, like Harry, found
it no longer necessary to use a wand unless they were doing particularly
delicate work. Brute power work was best done without a wand since they were
likely to overpower one. He did find it amusing though, that the two of them
were still paired with wands that contained feathers from Fawkes. He wondered
what the phoenix thought of that or if it was a symbol of something else.
       No matter. That was a thought for another day.
       Ollivander brought out the wand on a small cushion. The oak had been
polished smooth but somehow Voldemort could sense the weakness in the wood that
wand maker had spoken off. He could also sense the feather that Harry had given
him. It almost seemed asleep but its power thrummed clearly.
       "As directed I used the blood of all types of dragons, but I made a few
extra additions; a little Ashwinder blood, a single drop of basilisk venom and
two drops of blood from a Runespore's planner head and three from the dreamer
but none from the critic."
       "Why the additions?"
       Silver eyes looked towards him. "Given your affiliations, they seemed
appropriate and for some reason the wand didn't feel happy without them."
       Voldemort's red eyes narrowed as he looked at the wand. If he didn't
know what was in the core he wouldn't have thought it anything special. It was
well crafted but it looked like any other wand. It didn't call to him, it
didn't whisper of magic to his senses. It didn't hum the way his wand did. Yet
he still felt as if the wand was going to be necessary.
       Ollivander watched his reactions. "I wish to ask, but I'm not sure if
you will deign to answer me."
       "It would depend on the question," the Dark Lord said softly.
       "Where did you get the feather?"
       Voldemort smiled. He had known that any question would be about the
feather and with a flash of insight he decided to answer it truthfully. "It was
given to me and yes, I am aware of exactly what it is."
       Ollivander tensed. He had tested the feather, he knew what it was and he
had speculated that the Dark Lord knew what it was but to have him confirm it
was not something he had thought possible.
       "And I can see your next question," Voldemort almost chuckled. "Did
someone give it to me or did I get it from the owner?"
       The wand maker nodded.
       "I got it from a wizard," Voldemort said easily. Harry had been in
wizard form when he had picked up the feather. "But they were very specific
about where it came from and to be honest, despite the power I could feel from
it, I did not quite believe it. Your surprise when I gave it to you confirmed
it."
       "You understand this puts me in a very difficult position?"
       "I have no intention in interfering with your neutrality," Voldemort
said.
       "Mr. Riddle, regardless of your intentions you have something you should
not. I am neutral, I watch and I destroy things like this and then reprimand
the originator for being so careless."
       The Dark Lord looked sharply at the wand but at that moment, it chose to
give a little pulse of magic, almost as if it had been listening. To Voldemort
the pulse felt like Harry though he could see that it just added to the
confusion of the wand maker. He had felt it, but he still could not isolate who
the feather had belonged to.
       "I would say the originator wants me to have this feather," the red eyed
man said softly.
       "Their desires may not over-ride the rules."
       "So they may not give gifts to anyone they want to?"
       "It is not the act of gifting it is the act of possession."
       Voldemort laughed! "Even with all my power, do you really think I could
hold a full-blood against their will?"
       "I think you'd try," Ollivander's silver eyes flashed dangerously and
unconsciously he prepared to fight. Mr. Riddle had been far more forthcoming
then he had believed possible but despite his best efforts and enhanced senses
he could not feel the lie in the Dark Lord's voice or actions.
       "If I tried, I would die for the effort. I am not so arrogant as to
think I am that powerful," Voldemort paused, gathering his thoughts. "You can
believe me or not, that is your choice, Mr. Ollivander, but I know you can feel
the truth in my words. I am like all wizards, I can lie but I find the truth
serves me so much better." He pulled out a small pouch of galleons from a
pocket in his robe and with his other hand he picked up the wand, holding it
not to use but still in display. "I cannot hold one of your kind and I am not
going to try to but if one offers me assistance, then I will not deny their
efforts." The bag of money landed on the counter as the wand disappeared into
one of the Dark Lord's pocket sleeves.
       Ollivander just watched. He hadn't requested payment for this wand. The
payment of the core was enough but as the Dark Lord would not say no to help,
he would not say no to galleons. "We are forbidden from interfering and there
should be no physical traces of our presence. When I find them, and I will find
who has provided you with this feather, then they will be punished. If the wand
is still in your possession, I cannot guarantee what the decision will be
regarding it or your disposition."
       "We will see," Voldemort said as he turned to leave. "You have, as
always, been most helpful Mr. Ollivander. I would bid you remember, your
neutrality is not expected but is respected, even with your irritation over my
possession of this particular feather. I bid you good day."
       The wand maker was silent for a moment before he nodded tersely. There
wasn't much he could do. He had thought about substituting the feather with
something else but the Dark Lord would have noticed. It was not really
something he'd considered that strongly. He'd been more focused on trying to
find out who the feather had come from. It was not anyone that he knew and the
limited testing he'd done to try to determine their bloodline merely showed
that it was not one he recognised. That wasn't too surprising really since he
didn't spend that much time with his own kind. He would have to ask the
council. One feather probably shouldn't make that much difference, but one
individual could and that's what they would have to avoid.
       "I will remain neutral," Ollivander said to the Dark Lord, "Until I
perceive a threat to my kind. I would not advise you to be that threat. You
know me as a wand maker; you do not wish to know me in my other guise."
       A ghost of a smile traced its way over Voldemort's inhuman lips and for
the rest of his life, Ollivander would wonder if the smile was in response to
his statement or to the volley of attack spells that crashed through the glass
window, half hitting the Dark Lord and the other half absorbed by Ollivander's
store front shields.
       As Ollivander ducked behind his counter, the Dark Lord spun into the
path of the second volley, his personal shield flaring as it absorbed the
impacts. Even before Voldemort drew his wand to retaliate, shards of glass from
the shattered window were banished towards the attackers. There were some cries
of pain but nothing serious. It was almost incongruous when he walked out of
Ollivander's shop and made sure to close the door behind him.
       "Well, well, well, the Aurors," Voldemort greeted his attackers with a
rich theatrical voice. Most of them were still hidden behind what little cover
there was in the Alley and there was of course, no one else visible. As red
eyes altered to see magic, he could see that the shop fronts had reinforced
their shields as much as possible and some even showed signs of hastily
established barricades.
       "You are surrounded. Put your wand down and surrender."
       The Serpent Lord was impressed. Whoever the Aurors had chosen to speak
was confident, their voice didn't quaver with fear and their tone held no hint
of worry. They could not be sure of the outcome but they were apt at
pretending. He stretched his senses. Ollivander was behind his counter and from
the vague feeling Voldemort could sense from the wand maker, he had not known
the Aurors were going to attack. There were several Aurors on Ollivander's roof
as well as several on surrounding buildings as well as tucked into the door
ways of every shop and into the nooks and crannies that defined the Alley. The
entrance to Knockturn Alley was blocked as was Gringotts and the brick wall
that lead to the Leaky Cauldron.
       He could feel the anti-apparition wards and he could see them already.
Unlike the Azkaban wards they were not hidden as they had been rather hastily
put up but they were strong and he could feel that the casters, four... no five
wizards had worked together to raise the wards and they were holed up in
Knockturn Alley, as far away as they could get. There was no chance he could
knock them unconscious to down the wards, not unless he had gone through every
other Auror here.
       They were waiting for his reply. He should be as eloquent as possible.
He raised both long fingered white hands as if in surrender his wand still held
loosely, a small smirk on his lips and before the Aurors could respond he began
the battle. "Avada Kedrava!" The Aurors were under what cover there was, but he
could see enough of them to kill them. They had him at a slight disadvantage
with their first volleys of spells; they should not have stopped to chat.
       He gave the Aurors credit in their response time, or at least the Aurors
on the roof since they replied to his casting almost before he'd finished it.
Their curses didn't hit him as he'd run forward to engage those forces in the
street, but they did cast very quickly. The street forces seemed strangely
reluctant to fight him hand to hand and as yet another Auror scrambled out of
his way, giving him the perfect opportunity to put an Avada Kedrava into the
centre of their back, he understood why, when a jet of almost pure light shot
down from above. Voldemort spun to counter it, forming his own power into a red
light to throw back towards the rooftop Aurors.
       As powerful as he was, he still staggered under the blow as the combined
power of the Aurors struck him. He couldn't distinguish the individual power
signatures in the force but it was clear that they were doing their best not to
underestimate him. The ground Aurors took advantage of his distraction and
fired various curse and hexes and he bared his teeth as they hit his protes
shield, weakening it. It appeared none of them had the guts to try Avada
Kedrava on him yet. The serpent within hissed. :I'll deal with the ground
rats,: Xatarass declared coming awake and materialising with stunning clarity.
       To the watching Aurors, it appeared as if the red robed Dark Lord was
suddenly obscured as if by mist, and they found themselves squinting to bring
him back into focus. Then they noticed the coils and instinctively their eyes
began following them, around and around You-Know-Who's form. Those who were
lucky followed the coils to the tail. Those who were unlucky followed the coils
to the head, and the baleful yellow eyes of a Basilisk, and for one who was
even more unlucky, those yellow eyes were the last thing they ever saw.
Xatarass hissed and struck, uncoiling like a spring to extend towards the
Aurors before coiling back around the Dark Lord.
       Even as Voldemort poured power into the red light he was trying to
determine what charm or curse or spell the Aurors were using. It was almost
like the time with his beloved when they had caught each other in their spell
fire, causing the prior incanti of their brother wands but it was different.
There was no spell formed barrier for one and the force generated by the Aurors
was coming from many wands. In a stray thought he wondered if their wands were
as hot as his? He could feel the phoenix feather heating up as he channelled
his power through it.
       "Cutting charms!" He heard the call and knew it was directed towards
Xatarass but he could not spare any power for the Basilisk. After all his japes
and complaints and mocking, not to mention the attacks his forces had been
carrying out on a daily basis, it appeared the Ministry was finally taking him
seriously and they had brought an impressive array of power to bear. He
couldn't sense anyone from the Order of the Phoenix or any vampires or other
races so it seemed that this was just the Ministry who were at least pretending
to be what they should be. He grinned, and poured more power into his counter
charm.
       Xatarass twisted and turned and avoided most of the cutting charms
directed towards him. He could hear the curses from the Aurors and smell their
fear as he spun around the Dark Lord. He'd gotten one with his teeth earlier
and the others were being more careful now. They were staying out of range of
his attacks and they had all drawn veils across their eyes. He had paralysed a
few but had been unable to bite them. The gauze around their heads had flared
and burnt away but it protected them from death. He had a few nicks and cuts
from their charms and so far none of them had even attempted to conjure a
rooster, not that a conjured one would do any good, only a real one was fatal
to him.
       There was an odd cracking sound and Xatarass hissed as a whip wrapped
itself around his neck and was very quickly pulled taut, holding him in place!
"There's only one way to deal with a snake," one of the Aurors shouted, "Cut
off its head!" They renewed the barrage of cutting charms and as Xatarass
desperately flicked his tail at the charms trying to block them as he struggled
against the magically reinforced rope of the whip, he knew he wasn't going to
break free in time and took the only course available to him. There was a flare
of darkness and the rope fell to the ground as the great Serpent disappeared
back into the body of the Dark Lord.
       The charms crashed into one of the buildings and there was a great puff
of dust and debris which obscured everything. There was a sizzle and the smell
of burning as the dust encountered the two energy streams. For the moment the
Aurors didn't care and after a shouted command they began casting charms at the
Dark Lord who was still struggling against the power their fellows had
generated.
       For his part, Voldemort grunted as the Aurors charms hit home, some
getting through his quickly weakening shield charm. He was still using all of
his power against the roof top Aurors who were pouring everything they had into
the spell. He almost wished he'd brought some guards but nothing could be
changed now. He strained and renewed his protes shield as several charms
impacted his body, but that was all he could spare for that. He was thankful
that on the whole the Aurors were loath to use Avada Kedrava.
       In hindsight, while he was invested in the spell borne struggle against
the roof top Aurors, he should have been paying more attention to the ground
ones. They had been content to cast at him from a distance and he didn't feel
the Auror who had been creeping through the available cover coming around on
his right side. It wasn't until pain blossomed in his chest that he realised
they were there.
       Instinct took over at that point and Voldemort spun, stepping back and
to his left, breaking the spell connection with the roof top Aurors even as he
dodged the beam he had been holding off. His attacker was not so lucky and they
stumbled forward into the spell. The Aurors scream was brief as the spell
slammed into him, burning through the protections on all Auror robes in an
instant before it cut through his body. As the Dark Lord's right arm lowered,
he felt the press of the dagger as it cut through his robes into his bicep. He
could feel his robes sticking to his side as his blood seeped into them and
some dripped thickly to the ground. His right hand went to the daggers hilt,
wrapping around it to hold the blade steady to avoid further damage. He hissed
in pain, before his left hand reached out, fingers extended as if the grasp an
object that was not there. He ignored the spells the Aurors were raining down
upon him as he forced his eyes to focus on the wards again. The anti-apparition
wards were easily spotted and there was nothing in the way of his usual finesse
or subtlety as he grabbed at them with a magical hand, ripping them into shreds
before he apparated away.
===
 
 
***** Understand What You Can *****
Weapon
Chapter 28 Understand What You Can
===
       In the depths of the Dark Lord's stronghold it was cold. Most people
might expect it to be warm to keep the serpents happy, but the snakes did not
come here. The lowest levels, with no windows, were dank and cold and belonged
to the Dementors. Ice ran over the walls, reinforced by the Dementors' presence
and melted by the warm bodies of the wizards they had here. It was not silent
here. Screams were infrequent, but there was a constant tone of painful moans
and agonised groans. The drip of water and the soft passage of the wind through
the corridors were score of this place.
       It was also dark. The Dementors had no need of light. They had eyes, but
they did not rely upon them and so the only light that penetrated into their
place was the fitfully burning torch at the top of the stairs that lead down to
their level. And its light didn't stretch far, a dozen steps perhaps, steps
that got icier with each decent.
       The Dementors had been very pleased when the Dark Lord had merely
flipped one hand and said the place was theirs if they wanted it. They had the
run of the castle, and a few patrolled through the dungeons and the upper
levels, but most remained with the prisoners they had, the ones being turned
into Dementors. Their souls had been removed at Azkaban before they were
transported here where a tiny piece of a soul, any soul, had been given back to
their bodies. At present, the bodies were being tortured and their minds
striped of anything that might be remotely considered pleasant. They were also
being fed only the barest minimum to support life and already most were
emaciated beyond recognition.
       Despite the fact that it hadn't even been two months, some of the older
Dementors thought that a few of their prisoners were ready to be born. Their
magic, one of the only things still sustaining them, was already beginning to
twist and turn. It was weak, but their magic was already producing the cold the
Dementors were known for. Once that occurred, the prisoner would be separated
from the others and two of the older Dementors would stay with them for the
next few days, touching them, holding them, caressing them, letting their
magical core feel them, letting their hatred, their anger, run wild through
what was left of their bodies. Their magical core absorbed the emotions and by
exposure to the other like cores, those of the older Dementors, they changed,
and in changing, altered what was left of the body. And once that was done, the
little piece of soul that had been returned to the body, the one that allowed
them to feel, the one that kept them mortal, kept them human was removed again
and this time it was fed to the new formed Dementor as their first meal.
       The Shadows were very happy in the dark. The Dementors' activities did
not bother them and the Dementors themselves were not troubled by the Shadows
that watched on. The Muggle prisoners were spread amongst the wizards from
Azkaban and so the Dementors were very attentive in making sure the bodies
still twitched and shivered with the cold. They were fed slightly more than the
wizards, but not much. Their lives were all that was important, nothing more.
       One Shadow dropped to the ground and seemed to spread over the four
prisoners who were awake. They had just been returned from the chambers above
and they were still twitching with the effects of the Cruiciatus curse and
other hexes. They had the glassy-eyed stare of the lost and the Shadow radiated
a sense of pleasure.
       :Dementor,: the Shadow whispered and three Dementors turned towards it.
       "Yes," one answered, its voice like the whisper of wind over snow.
       :Please gather the Muggle prisoners together,: the Shadow instructed.
       The Dementors nodded their understanding and turned away as they both
sensed the change in the stronghold. Voldemort had returned above but there was
something wrong. Several Dementors flowed passed the spluttering torch to find
out what was different, even as the Shadow surged up into the pitch darkness
near the ceiling where the sense of its presence faded entirely.
===
       Iavor continued working as he thought. He had been speaking a bit more
freely at the pub after work and he had noticed a few patrons taking an
interest in him or at least an interest in his information, but he didn't know
if they were Death Eaters. He supposed that was the point. If everyone could
tell they were Death Eaters then they wouldn't be very scary; lately though
there had been a few odd orders. He'd processed them of course. He couldn't
just ignore them but he had taken special note of what was being ordered and
for whom. There were two things odd about the orders. The first was that they
were orders for the goblins! The second was that they were orders for parts.
Usually when the Ministry ordered something, it wasn't parts; it was the
completed device.
       The ex-Hufflepuff student had thought about it for a while and had drawn
the only conclusion he could. The Goblins were making something for the
Ministry. And they were making a lot of them! It was hard to tell what it might
be based on the orders Iavor had seen and since he wasn't the only worker in
his Department, he doubted he'd seen every order. But since it wasn't for
armour or potions he supposed it was some sort of device. If he allowed that to
be true, then what skills did the goblins have, what could they make that the
Ministry could not? Sure, Goblin crafted armour and weapons were considered
superior, but the orders weren't for armour and weapon parts. It was odd, it
was for crystals and some weird liquid and the weirdest thing was that it also
included a heap of muggle things. That was one of the reasons Iavor had noticed
the orders in the first place.
       "You aren't going to believe this!" The shout reverberated around the
office and most of the workers looked up to see a young witch rush into the
room. "The Aurors just fought You-Know-Who in Diagon Alley!"
       "What?" Most of the room buzzed and got up so that they could ask
further questions. Iavor remained where he was. What was the point? He already
knew what the report would be and most of those buzzing around were just after
gossip. The Aurors fought the Dark Lord in Diagon Alley, after a pitched
battle, assuming You-Know-Who was alone, he apparated away. The way she had
said it indicated it wasn't a battle, but while Iavor could feel the excitement
he could also feel the fear.
       If the Dark Lord was in Daigon Alley, where else might he be? And of
course the other implication was that the Dark Lord could fight off all the
Aurors by himself! The fear was already setting in; the cold in the pit of the
stomach, the tightness in the back of the throat and the shiver. They weren't
feeling it yet, but soon, once the excitement and the fun of the gossip faded
then the feeling would grow. People were so predictable.
       Iavor couldn't remember much of the first war, but he knew this time the
Dark Lord was attacking openly. The fear of the unknown was not the same as
before. It was different this time. Everyone knew the Dark Forces were there.
They still didn't know whom were Death Eaters, but they knew they existed.
That's why the true fear wouldn't set in until later.
       He listened to the witch as she went on about how many the Aurors had
lost in the battle. Iavor looked up with a frown. While there were patrols of
Diagon Alley and other places, how did they know that the Dark Lord was there?
Was it an accident that he had been found? Had he attacked? Did the Aurors
track him? While it was easy to track students and their wands, Iavor could not
imagine the Dark Lord being so sloppy as to have a traceable wand... Nor could
he imagine the Dark Lord being so sloppy as to be accidentally found which
meant that Aurors were tracking or had a tip off.
       If it was a tip off then the Aurors had been lucky, but what if they
were tracking?
       Iavor blinked as the pieces began falling into place in his mind. It
might be a stretch but it explained things. The Aurors had not gotten lucky;
they had found a way of tracking adult wizards and of course the main one they
needed to track was the Dark Lord himself and they'd found him and died. And
that would continue. That wasn't how it was meant to be! If the Ministry was
allying with all the non-humans then they were meant to be the ones dying. The
Ministry didn't have enough people... the wizarding world didn't have enough
people to take the Dark Lord on head on. They'd proven that in the last major
battle. Did no one in the Ministry besides himself remember history?
       He shuddered as his imagination provided him with scenes of carnage. The
Ministry had found the Dark Lord's strong hold, and they had stormed it. The
fine Aurors and everyone else who could fight gathered for the task. And they'd
been defeated and in the castle corridors, which looked suspiciously like
Hogwarts, the bodies lay strewn around almost carelessly. He could feel You-
Know-Who holding court in the main hall, but in his mind Iavor could feel one
more thing. Wizards were doomed. By the Ministry's action of attack and the
Dark Lord's defence, they had killed too many.
       "All right you mob, back to work!" Iavor was brought out of his vision
as their supervisor's supervisor stepped into the room. The wizard's eyes swept
over the gossiping workers and for an instant their eyes met and Iavor was sure
his position, still at his desk, was noted and approved of. As the others began
to return to their desks, grumbling to themselves softly the wizard walked to
the front of the room. He was holding something odd. It was sort of round and
glowed faintly but there were some wires stuck into it at odd angles.
       "This is the news, so that you don't rely on gossip. This morning the
Aurors faced off against You-Know-Who in Diagon Alley. It's not known why he
was there, but inquiries are being made. There was a brief scuffle and seven
Aurors were killed - God rest their souls - before You-Know-Who pulled down the
anti apparation wards and escaped. The extent of his injuries is unknown but he
was injured.
       "Now I know what you are thinking. It's bad, seven Aurors are dead and
he still escapes. Yes, the loss is not good, but this is just the beginning of
this war. Make no mistake, it's regrettable, but there will be further losses.
Today was an unexpected battle, the Order of the Phoenix, the Vampire Clans and
the troops promised by the Goblins were not present, but today showed You-Know-
Who that we are prepared and able to find and to fight him. Despite the fact
that the Ministry's allies were not present, I want you to spread the word,
today's battle, catching the Dark Lord unawares was the result of collaboration
with the Goblins and a little trinket they made." The wizard held up the device
he was holding. "This device detects magical signatures. At the moment they are
only in key locations but soon they will be spread throughout the Isles and we
will take the battle to the Dark Forces.
       "Today marked the beginning of the battle, but it also signals the
inevitable end. While I'm sure the families of the Aurors who died today will
not agree, in time they will see today's battle as the beginning of the end and
they will acknowledge that the alliances the Ministry had made, are for the
benefit of all wizards!
       "Now get back to work!"
       Iavor picked up his stamp again as the Supervisor stood still for a few
minutes more, watching as the rest of them almost sullenly resumed stamping.
His suspicions had just been confirmed. The Ministry would soon have the
ability to track adult wizards and while that sounded great in battle
situation, there were just a few things that had obviously not been considered
or were being glossed over. Tracking was a gross invasion of privacy. Even the
spells on underage witches and wizards didn't track them, but instead just
monitored and reported in when something went wrong. The Ministry now had in
its hands the ability to track every wizard all the time and as soon as the
devices were created and deployed, he had no doubt that that was what they
would do under the guise of finding and fighting the Dark Lord's forces... But
after the war... would they really give up that power? Iavor was not so naive
as to believe the answer would be yes.
       The other concern was with the numbers. If the Dark Lord had taken out
seven Aurors today and he had been ambushed, how many more could he take out
when he appeared prepared to fight? His vision of carnage was more accurate
than he knew. The Ministry might very well defeat this Dark Lord but the cost
would be everything.
       And once again the thought went through his mind. What can I do?
       And once again the answer was that joining the Dark Forces would only
give them one more mediocre fighter. It was an option, just not a good one.
Information would only go so far. He did not have access to the monitors'
devices so that would do no good and he knew the Dark Lord would very quickly
insinuate his own people into the monitors. That would take some time, and
while the Ministry forces were taking advantage of their ability to track the
Dark Forces, both sides would be weakening.
       :You need to tell them about the devices,: Iavor's mind whispered to
him.
       He froze. There were two things wrong with that thought. Telling the
Dark Forces point blank that something was happening was akin to joining. He
wasn't averse to gossiping but he didn't think he was ready to actually join
them. And no matter how much the Ministry might pretend otherwise, the Dark
Forces were not stupid. They would very quickly know that the Ministry was
tracking them. If he was going to gossip, it had to be about something else.
       :Don't tell them, write a letter,: his mind helpfully supplied the
alternative to one of his problems.
       A letter was the same as telling them. A letter implied it was being
sent and if ever found would be proof of his duplicity. Even if he wrote one
though, and Iavor laughed internally at the thought of addressing such
correspondence, what would he say?
       :Write a journal then. That's only going to be for yourself. You have to
tell someone!:
       He did have to tell someone. This knowledge was already eating him and
he'd been sitting here for half an hour! But if he was hypothetically trying to
warn the Dark Forces what would he tell them? The first sentence was easy. The
Ministry can track you. The second was elusive until he realised the blatantly
obvious. If you knew someone could track you, you generally wanted to know how
they did it and if you were the Dark Forces you would want to know what
components went into the tracking devices. Iavor didn't know all the components
but hopefully he knew enough.
       He might be the only one who could see it but he knew that the Ministry
and the Dark Forces could no longer continue weaken each other. The Ministry
had already lost when they had signed all the treaties with the various non-
humans while the Dark Forces had maintained true to their desires... and were
closer to his. He'd serve the Ministry, but he was not going to be loyal. All
he wanted was for wizards to be where they should, but fate seemed to be
conspiring against him.
       :Conspire back,: his mind said cheekily.
       As he kept stamping the papers he smiled. When he thought things like
that, he wondered how well he knew himself, but it was the truth. At school
he'd watched the Slytherins. As a Hufflepuff, he'd had to as that was the only
way of trying to remain safe. But one thing he had noticed was that they went
after what they wanted. Not always obviously, they were serpents after all so
they were sometimes rather roundabout in their attempts, but they were not
afraid to try.
       Death awaited him if he was caught, but death awaited them all if he did
not try. He might, like all witches and wizards, fear the Dark Lord, but in
this, he could not be afraid to try.
===
       "I'm going to do it."
       Blaise looked up at the soft confession. There were a few of them in the
Common Room but most of their House was out either enjoying the day or watching
the last practice before Slythern's first Quidditch game. No matter the splits
in their House and the war that was raging in the wizarding world, Quidditch
went on. Apparently the team had decided that even if politics lead them to
fight, they would suspend that battle within the Quidditch pitch. It would look
odd to the rest of the school if they didn't so Slytherin still had a Quidditch
team and they could still play Hufflepuff. Regardless, there were a few members
of their House that had no interest in the sport and were using the time to
study or for other things.
       The two of them were doing their homework in the Common Room. It was
safer here than the Library. While they were somewhat outcast from their own
house, no one would attack them here, but they were both waiting for the axe to
fall.
       "Do you really think it will do any good?" he asked just as quietly.
       Millicent up looked through the gentle green light, tears forming in her
eyes. "I don't know," she said. "But I can't stand it anymore. I have to try
something!"
       Zabini sat back and closed his eyes. He knew what she meant. They had
avoided Harry as much as they could this year though it was sometimes difficult
given that they shared quite a few classes. He hadn't done anything either. He
hadn't glared, he hadn't given then sly glances, he hadn't spoken to either of
them. It was almost as if he was content to forget, but neither of them
believed that. That might be the Hufflepuff way, but it was not the Gryffindor
way. He was waiting and they were caught up.
       He had been more patient than either of them had thought he could be and
it appeared Millicent was at her limit.
       "What will you do?"
       "The only thing I can," she replied. "Apologise. If I have to I'll go
down on my knees and beg."
       "How very Gryffindor of you."
       "Well what do you suggest?" She snapped, voice harsh with anger.
       It was Blaise's turn to look up through the light to the window. He was
silent for a few moments before he frowned. "I don't know," he said honestly.
"I really don't know. I know the Zabini Clan is hoping he will strike at me and
forget the rest of them... Well, that's their last resort. They are hoping he
will demand compensation first, but if I have to, I'll accept any punishment."
       "You got it easy. What's left of my family just made me outcast."
       "So you are trying to be accepted again?"
       "No," Millicent was firm. "They won't ever accept me back." She looked
down at the floor, her eyes distant. "But I have to protect Magstine," she
whispered.
       Blaise nodded. "If you are serious about this then I won't stop you, but
don't expect him to accept it. Though to be honest, I don't think he'll go
after Magstine since she didn't know."
       "I can't take that risk."
       "All right, when will you do it?"
       " The only time I can think of is Halloween when I might be able to get
even a second of privacy."
       He sighed. "I wish you luck, Millicent. I really do and I hope it
works."
       "But you don't think it will."
       "I don't know. Heh, we are meant to be Slytherin, able to read people,
but I can't read him. I have no idea how he will react. He might accept it, he
might not. I really just don't know."
       And that was the final word on the matter.
===
       Ginny looked up at the canopy. The other girls in her dorm were sleeping
normally, but for some reason, tonight she couldn't sleep. Here she was living
the dream of practically every girl of her generation and it was somehow...
hollow.
       Harry was... Harry was nothing like she expected. He was attentive and
he was always polite, but he was also distant. She could tell he was trying if
not to love her, then to at least get to know her, but it was difficult. He was
so angry all the time. He hadn't snapped at her, but he had at almost everyone
else. Last year, she would have taken that as a sign that he loved her. This
year... she just didn't know.
       It didn't seem to be the separation from the Dark Lord. She was sure
that was providing some frustration, but this seemed deeper. It seemed to be in
every part of his being and there were times when even the Shadows seemed
angry. She'd seen him once, just once in the Great Hall, looking at Dumbledore
and it had taken her a moment to recognise the expression before Harry had
schooled his features into something more normal. Contempt only began to
describe what she had seen. Loathing, hatred seemed too mild as well. The
expression had been black, and while it was mostly directed at the Headmaster,
there was a part of it directed elsewhere. She wasn't sure where. It had only
been an instant, and Ginny had almost convinced herself that she hadn't seen
it, except for the way Harry sat down that day and was lost in his memories.
       She had tried asking him what was wrong or how she could help, but Harry
had never answered her. Sometimes he just deflected the conversation so
skilfully she forgot her question until later. Other times he just ignored the
question. It had to be something with the past. She frowned, thinking back to
what she knew.
       She knew Harry had been raped last year. She knew that Harry's relatives
had been captured by the Dark Forces and she knew, from hints and everything
she had seen that they had not treated Harry very well... But Harry had gotten
over that... Hadn't he?
       Ginny closed her eyes as she considered. How long did it take to get
over things like that? Did you even get over them at all? No, you probably
never 'got over them' but perhaps you grew accustomed... No... she was thinking
about this all wrong. Even the words she was thinking seemed too lame, too easy
to explain everything. Nothing seemed to encompass the gravity of the
situation.
       Harry hadn't gotten over anything. He might have come to terms with some
of the things that had happened, but she doubted he had fully recovered...
which was why... which was why sometimes he was so distant.
       So what could she do to help? Ignoring the situation wouldn't make it
better and she knew that trying to make him talk would just drive him away.
Perhaps she shouldn't try to make him talk but should instead talk to him about
what was going on in Hogwarts, talk to him about the regular everyday things,
the letters from her mother, that sort of thing. Maybe that would help and
maybe that would help him see that she was still there and that she would
always be there for him, no matter how distant he was. Maybe she should take
him to Hogsmeade next weekend. It would be a normal thing for him to focus on.
Maybe it would work and it would give him and her a chance to get to know each
other better.
       Ginny sighed deeply. It probably wasn't enough, but it was all she could
do at the moment. Harry was getting to know her and she was getting to know him
better, replacing her preconceived notion of him with the reality. It was
different and difficult, but it was for the best in the long run. In time, he
would come to love her as she loved him.
===
       Harry smiled and waved the team off to the showers at the end of their
practice. They were coming together as a Quidditch team, even the reserves, but
they still needed more work and they probably wouldn't be completely ready by
the time their first game came around just before Halloween. He was trying to
make them ready of course, giving them more and more training, but the old
Gryffindor team had had more than training behind them and to his somewhat
experienced eye, the differences showed.
       He had a new-found appreciation for just how much effort Oliver had put
into the team. As expected, Ginny was great as a Chaser, but she needed to
learn to work better with the other two. Ron was okay as the Keeper and it was
a trade-off between him and Oswald. Harry hadn't decided who'd be the Keeper
for the first game, but he thought he'd overheard the two Gryffindors talking
and in a moment of sheer unselfishness, Ron had agreed to toss for the game if
neither was noticeably better than the other at that time. Harry had been
impressed. Ron was growing up fast. He took a last lap around the pitch before
Harry brought himself in close to the spectator boxes. Only a few people ever
bothered to come and watch the practices and today Neville was one of them, but
he hadn't left and was still sitting there quietly. With a small jump, Harry
slid off his broom to land beside the other Sixth Year boy.
       "Neville," Harry said, when the brown haired boy didn't seem to notice
his presence.
       Longbottom started and Harry smiled as his friend. "What's the matter?"
he asked gently. He thought he knew but it was best to check.
       Neville looked up at him, brown eyes sad. "It's nothing," he said.
       Harry shook his head. "It is," he said in the same soft voice he'd used
before. "It's troubling you so it is something. Can you tell me?"
       Neville looked down, almost as if ashamed. "You know how my parents
are?"
       Harry nodded.
       "I thought... I guess I never really thought about it to be honest. I
mean I knew why and how they were there and I never really thought..." The
other boy trailed off.
       "Never really thought about what?" Harry prompted gently when it became
obvious Neville was not going to continue.
       "I never really thought about the LeStranges and where they were. I knew
they were in Azkaban and that was enough, but now... now they are out... And
that..." Tears formed in the corner of Neville's eyes. "I'm scared, Harry," he
whispered.
       Harry nodded. That made sense. If he didn't have the Shadows, if he
didn't have the love of the Dark Lord then he would be afraid as well. His
friends would help him as much as possible, he knew that, but there was only so
much they could do. Ginny was doing her best, but he knew she was confused at
times with his distance. She was trying, just as he was trying. They could be
friends, but he already had a beloved. He wondered if Ginny would accept that
in the end, but knew she probably wouldn't. And all of that did not help
Neville. Of all of them, the young man probably had the most honest reaction
and possibly the smartest reaction. He was scared and he wasn't afraid to admit
it.
       He smiled understandingly at Neville. "Me, too," Harry said, running one
hand though his hair.
       "No, you're not," Neville objected.
       "Yes, I am," Harry replied realising the truth. There was some fear in
him, but not where most would think. Harry was not afraid of the Dark Lord or
the battle; his fears were somewhat more exotic. "I'm very much afraid of what
will happen to everyone if I fail."
       "That I can understand. I'm just afraid of stupid little things."
       "Such as?"
       Neville gulped, seeming to fight back his tears. "My parents don't even
recognise me when I visit," he started. "But they are all I have and I love
them. I don't want to lose them," Neville confessed, his voice trembling.
       Harry nodded sympathetically. He really wasn't sure what he should feel
as obviously he'd never had parents or anyone he really thought of as a parent,
though Sirius definitely came close. He wasn't sure though if he could handle
seeing them, visit after visit, the way Neville did, but perhaps because
Neville didn't know them any other way, he accepted that. He obviously still
loved and would always love his parents. Almost without thinking about it,
green eyes half closed as Harry considered the Dark Lord's knowledge. As
expected Voldemort had a very good understanding of what the Cruciatus curse
did both to the caster and to the victim. His knowledge also included a set of
guidelines on how to condition witches and wizards using the curse, how long to
hold them under it, what tone of voice to use when talking to them, what to
offer certain types of people to get them to agree to follow you.
Unsurprisingly, the memories Harry had from the Dark Lord were very thorough on
this but while the Dark Lord could use the curse to gain quite a few outcomes,
he had never deliberately tortured anyone into insanity. He knew, somewhat
theoretically that it could be done, but he preferred to stop while the victim
was still sane, to inflict other tortures, or even just to kill them. He was
almost merciful in that way.
       What was of interest to Harry was the memory of what Voldemort thought
would happen if someone was tortured into insanity with the Cruciatus. The
curse affected the body and mind to inflict pain, but it mostly dealt with the
body and after being subjected to extreme pain for a prolonged period, the mind
reacted to protect itself. At least that's what the Dark Lord thought happened.
The mind retreated into itself or maybe split itself so that it literally cut
off the connections between the mind and the body so that no matter what was
done to the body, the mind did not feel or comprehend that. A part of the mind
remained or was formed to keep the body breathing and the heart beating but
that was all which was why someone who had been tortured into insanity with the
Cruciatus curse could be hit by it again and just lie there. The question then
arose as to why the mind didn't come back after a period of time? Here his
beloved speculated on two reasons and either could be valid... But Harry was in
a position to confirm the theory.
       "Neville," he said tentatively, "Next time you visit your parents, if
you don't mind, could I come?"
       Brown eyes stared almost incredulously at him. "Why would you want to do
that?" He finally demanded.
       "Our parents were friends, Neville, so I feel it's the least I can do,"
Harry began, "and at the very least, I think I can put some extra warding up
around them so that you will know if anyone goes to attack them."
       "What? How!"
       Harry smiled gently. "Neville, who's knowledge did I get stuffed into my
brain?"
       Understanding dawned and Neville looked almost sheepish. "I forgot."
       "I didn't. I don't think I can do anything to help them," Harry said
honestly. "Voldemort's knowledge isn't exactly strong on the healing arts, but
he did know how to set wards and alarms, so I can do that much at least so if
anyone does go near your parents, we can go to save them."
       "We?" Neville asked uncertainly.
       "We," Harry confirmed before he smiled. "You'd come to help me if I
needed it, so of course I'll come to help you."
       Neville smiled up at him though it was still a bit weak.
       "We are all afraid," Harry said to the other young man softly. "Even I
am afraid, but Neville, you are not the kind of man who lets fear stop him and
that's what makes you brave. It's okay to be afraid, Neville. In this
situation, I think it would be stupid not to be afraid, but so long as we don't
let that fear rule us, then there is nothing to be ashamed of."
       "Thank you, Harry," Neville said and would have said more but for the
sudden feeling of icy rage he caught from his black haired friend and the way
Harry's eyes whipped passed him to focus on something behind him. It was
probably a trick of the light but for an instant his green eyes seemed to burn
red. Neville spun, a little belatedly and for a moment he saw nothing, but
then, far in the distance he caught a flash of robes as someone moved through
the trees. They emerged out of the trees, but were careful to remain in the
deep shade and bowed towards them before they retreated back.
       "Xeoaph," Harry muttered.
       Neville frowned. He knew the name; almost everyone did now. Xeoaph
Castile, Vampire Elder who had allied his clan with the Order of the Phoenix,
and through the Order, with the Ministry. Over the past few weeks he'd heard
the name said with varying degrees of awe and respect, but he'd never heard it
said with such venom. "What is it?" he asked.
       The Boy-Who-Lived visibly collected himself before he sighed and turned
to smile a small smile at Neville. "At least I know who's been watching me
now," he said in a deliberately cheerful tone. The presence he'd found the
other day had definitely been a vampire. So... the Shadows had said that Xeoaph
still didn't trust him, but the vampire was prepared to act on that distrust
and follow him around.
       "What do you mean?"
       "Xeoaph doesn't trust the fact that I've been initiated into the Order
of the Phoenix He thinks that... I'm not actually sure what he thinks, but
probably that the Dark Lord left some controls in my head."
       "Did he?"
       Neville asked the question so openly and with such honesty that Harry
was forced to laugh. After a moment Neville realised his folly and joined in.
"Even if he did," Harry said after a few moments, black hair still quivering a
bit with mirth, "it was one of the first things Fawkes checked and one of the
things I check for now that I can use his knowledge."
       "I know, Harry. It was a stupid question," Neville said depreciatingly.
       "No, it wasn't Neville. The obvious questions may seem stupid, but they
are the most important questions and they are the ones you should be asking
rather than assuming the answers for." Harry blinked and seemed to assess his
friend. "When you are ready, come and ask me the obvious questions, and I will
answer you."
       Neville nodded, suddenly feeling very old, but he was also honoured at
the depth of trust he could feel from Harry. He'd wondered in childhood what it
would be like to be the Boy-Who-Lived, but suddenly he was very thankful he
wasn't. Harry needed all the support he could get and Neville was suddenly
ashamed to realise that he wasn't giving Harry all he could, but that Harry
recognised this and forgave him because when the time came, the black haired
young man was sure that his friends would come through for him.
       Harry watched the play of emotions on Neville's face. He was so open and
honest that it was almost impossible to dislike him. While Longbottom wasn't
ready yet to hear the truth, Harry was confident that he would understand and
stand at his side. It was something he was thankful for. Neville was a better
friend than any of them realised. The vampire though...
       The vampire was another matter and Harry couldn't even complain to
Dumbledore. The old wizard would merely claim that the vampire was concerned
for him and that it wasn't spying. He had unfortunately been kidnapped by the
Dark Lord so it wasn't unreasonable to expect to have body guards, but Harry
knew that whatever excuse the Headmaster cooked up, it was just that, an
excuse. Dumbledore probably trusted him more than the vampire did, but that
didn't really mean much. He was too used to distrusting everything, even while
he acted like he trusted everyone. Harry sighed. For now there was nothing he
could do.
===
       "Merlin! We had him!" Amelia raged in the privacy of her office. Despite
the outcome, her Aurors had done a great job and she was not such a callous
commander that she would add to their demoralisation with her anger. She wasn't
angry at them, but she was very frustrated.
       It had been a stroke of luck for them to detect the Dark Lord. They
hadn't had the time to call in re-enforcements so they had done what they could
and it had been close. She wasn't sure if she should be consoled by that or
disappointed. The Unspeakables had suggested the group attack from the roof at
short notice and if she was fair, it had worked exactly the way they said it
would. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had seemingly used all his energy blocking it
and that had allowed the ground forces to attack him.
       But no one had expected him to be that strong. He'd been able to counter
their attack and keep his protes shield up. With the amount of power they had
put into the attack that should not have been possible. And by Merlin, where
exactly had that basilisk come from? You-Know-Who had an affinity with
serpents, everyone knew that, but to be able to materialise a full grown thirty
foot basilisk from nothing was ridiculous. No one and no instrument had been
able to detect the summoning charm and the Unspeakables report was on her desk.
They didn't know how he'd done it, but they speculated that the serpent had
been with him the entire time, probably under a shrinking charm or less likely
a disillusion charm. Those were the more normal reasons they offered. She'd
read further to find their more exotic lines of speculation before she'd
forcibly put down the report. Unknown summoning, symbiosis or power of
Slytherin were not what she wanted to know about, not with eight Aurors dead.
       That was another thing that was annoying her. No one thought that eight
Aurors dead was a bad loss. They considered it a good result because of the
rushed training, and the rawness of most of the Auror Corps. The Dark Forces
were attacking every day. The Aurors were striking back at what they could, but
they didn't have the training and it showed. They were getting there. Official
history said that Lucius' Rebellion meant that the Dark Forces could escape.
Amelia knew the truth. Lucius' Rebellion was the reason they could still fight.
And they used the time the Rebel Death Eater had given them to train and to
cement alliances, but then in the first battle where they clearly had the upper
hand against the one being they absolutely had to defeat, he escapes and in his
escape he kills the wizard acting as the focus for their assault and one of the
witches who had raised the anti-apparition wards. Which said nothing about poor
brave Curil.
       Amelia hoped his spirit was comforted by the fact he now ranked as one
of the few wizards to ever score a hit on the Dark Lord and while there had
been blood, she didn't want to hope too hard that Curil had done more damage
than he had. It hurt, but it was best to assume that Curil had only scratched
the Dark Lord. The dark wizard had moved easily enough after he'd been stabbed
and he'd been hit on his right side. Unless he'd done something weird with his
physiology then there was little chance that anything vital had been hit.
       The Head of the DMLE leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes as she
breathed deeply. Despite her frustration and despite the losses, they had done
well. The Goblin device worked and they had already ordered the parts for many,
many more. The Unspeakables spell had also worked. And if they could get back
up for the next time then the battle should be different, and there would be a
next time. She wasn't sure when, but she swore to herself that there would be
one.
       The souls of the eight Aurors today would one day rest in peace, knowing
that their sacrifice acted as the confirmation that victory was possible. She
would see to that, one way or another.
===
       From one point of view it was probably an amusing sight, the sight of
the Dark Lord sitting on his throne, reading the paper as if he was some
regular wizard sitting at their breakfast table, but no one watching was
laughing. He'd been somewhat pleased with the papers lately, but today a frown
marred his features.
       The idiot reporter had finally had his article published and the Serpent
Lord was pleased to see that there hadn't been that much editing. Those who
were astute would see the truth, though he was honest enough to admit to
himself that most wouldn't read the real story. And he had been surprisingly
prideful when his beloved's N.E.W.T. results had been announced. While he had
no doubt that Harry could have achieved those results on his own, had he been
inclined to study, it was gratifying to know that it was his knowledge that was
so encompassing. Of course, he knew things to a far greater level than mere
N.E.W.T.s but the results of such testing on the wizarding public could not be
underestimated.
       Already they were coming to view Harry as their saviour and had placed
on him the expectation that he had to fight. If Harry had been more mercenarily
inclined, he wondered what the Ministry would be prepared to pay? No matter;
soon enough the Ministry and everything else would be bowing to him.
       Today though, the paper was running the risk of total annihilation. Of
necessity they had reported the ambush in Diagon Alley and while he understood,
even better than they did, the purpose of propaganda, it didn't mean he liked
it when it was used against him. They had taken a spin emphasising the fact
that he had been injured and the cut on his ribs throbbed with his annoyance
and they had definitely downplayed the deaths. The report was annoying but
necessary.
       What was really angering him was the reports about the Goblins. The fact
that he'd been caught in Diagon Alley was attributed to the Goblins though
details were scarce. He would need better information about that, but that
could be gained soon from his Ministry contacts. The implication was rather
obvious though; the Goblins had decided to forgo neutrality. There was one
comment from a goblin quoted and it was as cryptic as always "You do not short
change us." He understood the meaning. The Goblins had taken offence to the
Death Eaters' emptying of their vaults.
       That was more than frustrating; it was dangerous. He didn't have to pay
the Death Eaters, but there were certain expenses he did meet and they were not
going to go away. The Ministry had changed the laws so that convicted felons
could not gain lawful access to their vaults until they had served their
sentence. Nor could they sign over access to someone else unless that was done
and approved by the Ministry. That took care of any dependents the felon may
have. He almost wished the Ministry had tried to confiscate the vaults but they
weren't that stupid. What it meant for him was that he was on a restricted cash
flow and that could be fatal.
       Suddenly the Dark Lord smiled and resisted the urge to laugh.
       There was nothing wrong with this. He had wanted the Ministry to be
smarter and stronger. When he'd risen to take it all, his victory was assured
but was hollow. This time when his forces rose, it would be grand and with the
Ministry having tried everything to stop him, their defeat would be absolute.
       Besides, he'd broken into Gringotts once before in the weakling body of
that insipid wizard, Quirrell. He could do it again and this time it would be
far easier. No doubt the Goblins had improved their security but his strength
was not the same. And this time he could take as many of his forces as he
desired. No, the Goblins siding with the Ministry openly was not a disaster; it
was just a set back and an opportunity. If they maintained neutrality he had
been prepared to wait before he annihilated them. Since they had chosen to ally
with the Ministry, he didn't have to wait before he indulged himself.
       No, the Goblins were not a problem... the real problem was hidden on
page ten. It was just a single name on the wanted notification for one of his
Death Eaters. By itself it wasn't unusual. The papers were expected to publish
wanted notices. The problem with this one was that it was for one still
recovering from Azkaban and the list of who had and had not survived was not
something that was public knowledge. Only his Death Eaters knew about that...
and that included Snape.
       Carefully the Dark Lord folded the paper before he rested his chin on
one hand, thinking. He already knew how the information had been released.
Snape would have told the Order and that reporter would have passed on some
names. He expected Severus to give the Order information because he also fed
information back. The question, as always, was if Snape had chosen to support
the Light. In the past he'd have dismissed the slip in information. It wasn't
that important after all and it was possible they'd merely selected the name at
random, not knowing if that particular Death Eater was alive or not.
       But something felt different. He wasn't sure what was different since
the sense was elusive.
       :Summon him,: Xatarass said into his mind. :If he comes, he's loyal, if
he doesn't, then you will know his choice.:
       :True,: Voldemort agreed with his inner serpent. :I don't believe I will
see Snape again.:
       :Oh you will,: Xatarass disagreed. :He'll be covered in blood, begging
for forgiveness, but you will see him again.:
       The Dark Lord smiled. Xatarass always did have a way with words.
       :And for the goblins?:
       :Exterminate them all,: the great basilisk said almost lazily.
       Red eyes closed, but the Dark Lord didn't laugh. He was suddenly tired
and just for today he didn't feel like playing the game. He missed his mate,
and the end of the year could not come fast enough for him.
===
       It was a beautiful autumn day and they were taking full advantage of it.
With a little bit of wrangling the House Elves had provided them with a small
picnic to eat under the trees near the lake. It was quiet and restful here and
Hermione was almost sorry that they had to discuss something so ugly when it
would be just so much nicer to rest, but she felt that with Halloween only days
away that they needed to have this discussion now.
       Harry would join them soon, but there were one or two things she needed
to say first. He had almost seemed to anticipate that when he said he needed to
return a book to the library.
       Ron sighed. He wanted to watch this Quidditch game, but he was becoming
resigned to the fact that the only games he'd see this year were the ones he
played in. Somehow he could feel it. He wanted to see this one because it was
Hufflepuff versus Slytherin and this was the only game Slytherin played before
they were matched against Gryffindor in mid-December. The Slytherins had been
trying to hide it, but Ron was apparently used to watching them because he
could see the splits in their house. There were jabs and snide comments, and he
was interested to see if they carried over to Quidditch or if they put that
aside for the game. "What was so important that you dragged us here, Hermione?"
       "Harry is," she said. "We all know what happened last year and while
nothing has been said, I think we have to assume that something happened during
his childhood."
       "He's always so angry," Ginny said.
       "I know," Hermione agreed. Neville, Luna and Ron just listened. "That's
what I wanted to talk about. Even if I'm wrong and nothing happened at the
Dursleys' there's still what happened last year. That's bad enough, but we also
know that he didn't have a great childhood so that's going to make things more
difficult."
       "Make what more difficult?" Neville asked softly.
       "Healing," Luna answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the
world.
       "Exactly. I have no idea what he's going through, and to be honest, I
don't want to know," Hermione said, almost ashamed. "But he's going to be a
long time healing and we are going to have to be really patient and
supportive."
       They all looked to the ground at that. "And there is one more thing,"
Hermione whispered and her voice held a note of almost unfathomable sadness.
She was almost afraid to speak the words. "Harry may never recover."
       Silence reigned.
       "He will," Luna said with a voice that rang of surety. "The Phoenix has
already risen and all that remains is remembered pain and that will be shed
when the cause returns to memory."
       "How very astute," Harry said as he walked up. He had another small
basket of food with him and he sat down with a smile. "I'm sorry I've been so
distant."
       "It's alright, Harry," Ginny was quick to reassure him as she made a
space next to her.
       "No, it's not," he objected. "I should be stronger."
       "Harry," Hermione said looking at her friend with a soft smile. "I know
I lecture a lot, but this is important. It will take a while for you to heal
from what happened last year, but we will be here the entire time. If you are
angry then that's okay, if you are sad then that's okay. We'll be here for you.
And I know you don't like to ask for things Harry, but if there is something
you need, then you can ask us."
       Harry looked to the ground, chewing his sandwich slowly. Hermione had
probably done all sorts of research over the summer about what people went
through after they were raped. She would know what the usual procedure for
healing was and she would try to help that along. She was a good friend. They
were all good friends because none of them had flinched from that truth and
they were still willing to stand beside him. He hoped that they would not
flinch from the real truth, but only time would tell for that. She didn't know
about the Muggle paedophiles, but he knew Hermione probably suspected. She'd
have to be blind otherwise and she was not blind.
       "What do you need?" she asked.
       "I need closure," Harry was surprised at the ease with which he
answered. :I can see what my beloved is doing to those Muggles, but it's not
enough and it's not what I really want.:
       "Is that all?" There was a tiny note of disbelief in her voice and Harry
knew his answer wasn't fitting her script. Well he could always answer
truthfully. She wouldn't let it rest until he did. "What do you want?"
       "I want closure," Harry repeated. "I want justice," he added before he
snarled. "I want pain. I want them to hurt, I want them to know my pain and I
want them to know what I suffered. I want them to suffer." Harry growled the
last almost spitting the words. He felt the phoenix tattoo of Fawkes stir at
his anger and the presence of the phoenix came to him briefly. Harry heard a
small note of comfort from the firebird coupled with acceptance and
understanding. Inwardly, he laughed. The phoenix understood so little and after
a moment Harry's anger surged again driving Fawkes from him. The firebird
thought it was his anger over the past, but Harry smiled internally. That was
very interesting, but not something he could consider now.
       Luna just nodded, her face serene. Ron looked a bit startled, but after
a moment his face settled into understanding. Striking back, revenge, was after
all, a very Gryffindor thing and he understood that. He didn't understand
everything, because he didn't understand Harry's Slytherin side's desire for
truly returning the pain. Neville looked surprised, but he too quickly showed
understanding. Hermione almost looked triumphant, as if she had been expecting
the words, but like Ron she probably didn't understand the true extent. Ginny
was the one who was out of place. She looked horrified.
       "No," Ginny breathed, pushing her red hair over one shoulder. "You
don't, Harry. You would never want another to be in pain! You are stronger than
that!"
       Green eyes bored into blue but Ginny didn't back down and inwardly Harry
wondered how Ginny could read him so incorrectly after being around him for so
long. Did she not understand human nature at all? The others at least knew it
was natural for him to want to strike back; they accepted that as normal, even
if they didn't understand exactly what he would do. She persisted in her
delusions.
       He snorted in somewhat wry amusement. "Not yet I'm not. Not yet," he
repeated, closing brilliant green eyes and flipping back to the grass, pulling
his anger back. Now that Hermione had seen him rant, she would leave it be for
a while. And it was probably a good thing to let his feelings out. He wasn't a
saint. He was human. He hurt, he laughed, he bled and loved and hated. His
friends would have to understand that if they were to come with him that he was
only human and that for all the Order blathered about the Greater Good, his
only interest was in protecting those he loved and destroying those he hated.
       For good or ill, that was his greater good.
 
 
***** Halloween *****
Weapon
Chapter 29 Halloween
===
       So far Harry was having a good Halloween. He almost always enjoyed
Halloween at Hogwarts. Well, except for the troll... the Chamber of Secrets
being opened... Sirius attacking the Fat Lady... and the Goblet of Fire...
Based on his memories, perhaps he should just skip the Feast and enjoy the day.
Usually nothing bad happened during the day.
       But he was looking forward to the Feast. The House Elves made pumpkin
pie today that was sickly sweet on the tongue with the first bite but which
mellowed out into a smooth rich cinnamon spiced pumpkin that had a hint of
maple. He usually didn't care what he ate; all the food the House Elves
prepared was delicious but this pie was really good. It was one of the few
dishes he looked forward to.
       So far today, he'd managed to get the Gryffindor Quidditch team out for
a fly before they'd had breakfast. After that, most were left to their own
devices for the day. A few were catching up on homework and Harry was enjoying
the time off. The Aurors had said they would call him if anything happened, but
after the battle in Diagon Alley, they didn't feel as if anything was going to
happen today, which, if truth be told, had a lot of people on edge. Halloween
was a day of power for the Dark Lord so it was unusual for him not to be doing
something. The Aurors were on alert, but that was all they could do for the
moment.
       Harry was resisting the urge to reach out to his beloved and just find
out if something was due to happen. If he did that then, while he trusted his
acting, he may be that little bit unrealistic on the day when everyone was on
edge and he didn't want to risk that. They'd had lunch then Ron and Hermione
had disappeared to spend some time together, Neville had said that he needed to
catch up on his correspondence and Luna was around somewhere. Ginny was
watching him, and Harry would tell she wanted to ask him to go for a walk or
something, but she was still a bit nervous after their talk the other day.
       It was a good thing she was not bothering him today. Despite the fact he
was looking forward to the Feast, his anger had not abated from before and he
recognised the truth that he really did want them to suffer. Voldemort was
doing his best, but Harry wanted to see their pain in person... he wanted... he
wasn't sure exactly what he wanted beyond seeing them suffer, but his fingers
itched. The Shadows had laughed at him, not mockingly but comfortingly,
lovingly, as they wrapped around him softly. Today they formed all his robes
and the sensation of them against his skin, and swirling around him was as if
he was held in a warm embrace. They were softer than the finest silks and
stronger than dragon hide. He felt loved. Not the same as Voldemort's love, but
love never the less.
       He was a little bit at a loose end today, almost as if he was waiting
for something. :Go and see Draco?: the shadows suggested.
       Actually that wasn't a bad idea. He hadn't seen the Slytherin in a while
and no doubt he would have some amusing insights. Almost without thinking he
turned his steps towards the dungeons. The Slytherins wouldn't let him in, but
Draco would come by at some stage. He just had to be patient.
       "Ha... Mr. Potter," the voice was female and vaguely familiar to him. It
was surprised.
       The Shadows tightened around him as he turned in the narrow corridor he
had been walking down. Green eyes widened slightly as he saw who was there.
"Millicent," he whispered, his voice trembling.
       "What are you doi... No, it doesn't matter," she shook her head and as
Harry watched, she fell to her knees on the stone, her hands reaching out and
her head bowed. He could see the tears in her eyes, but he was not moved.
"I'm... sorry," Millicent said, her voice a whisper but full of emotion.
       Harry just looked at her and as he looked, something snapped within him.
       "I know..." Millicent choked. "I know what I did was wrong... and I know
it has caused you a lot of pain but please... I am so sorry."
       When Harry remained silent, Millicent looked up and gasped. Emerald eyes
burned into her and she wasn't even sure he was seeing her.
       "Please... It has cost me," she whispered looking back down at the
stone. For an instant Harry had seemed as distant as the sun and as hard as the
moon's clear white light. He had seemed to be more than human and while he
hadn't moved, somehow she felt crushed beneath his power.
       Harry swallowed hard. He wasn't sure what Millicent was trying to do but
the anger that had been simmering just beneath his conscious mind blazed to the
fore, and before he thought he was moving.
       "It cost you?" he snarled as Millicent clawed at his arm. Harry didn't
feel her weight as he held his fellow Sixth Year by her throat against the
wall. He didn't notice how his animagus form had come forth slightly, forming
claws on his fingertips. He didn't notice the way she struggled and kicked at
him, he didn't notice the thin trail of blood that dripped from her lip, or the
smear on the wall behind her head, he didn't notice anything but the red haze
before his eyes and the burning anger in his soul.
       "It cost you?" He repeated, vaguely feeling Fawkes awaken within him and
scream in frustration as the anger flattened the phoenix's presence. Fawkes
tried to reinforce himself, but against that much emotion, even a phoenix
wasn't strong enough. "What exactly do you think it cost me?" he snarled and
without thinking the Shadows wrapped around everything and Harry apparated,
leaving the hall bursting with light.
===
       In the Headmaster's office Fawkes screamed and around him flame
appeared. Dumbledore spun and no matter how surprised he was, he cast quickly
dousing the fire that had spread out from the phoenix.
       "What's the matter?" the old wizard asked as the fire faded from the
phoenix.
       :It's Harry,: Fawkes replied and Albus could see the firebird's
agitation. :Something triggered his anger and ...:
       "And?" Dumbledore prompted.
       :And he just apparated through the wards.:
       "Where?"
       :I don't know.: The admission wasn't easy for the phoenix.
       Dumbledore closed his eyes as he thought. Fawkes had reported that Harry
was still angry over the events of last year and of his childhood. It was
something the old wizard understood and it was something he expected. It would
have been nice if Harry had of recovered, but that would have been far too
quick and far too easy so he had no choice but to accept that. The initiation
into the Order of the Phoenix had shown that Harry understood adult emotion and
while that was good, and while he did spend time with Miss Weasley, it appeared
the young lady was not enough to dull his anger. It was most likely that the
only thing that would dull his anger was time... or perhaps...
       "Let him go," Dumbledore heard himself say.
       :What?: Fawkes seemed outraged.
       "Let him go," Albus repeated. "He needs to do this. We can comfort him
as much as want but that's not dealing with the anger. He's not ready to talk
yet, but Fawkes, talking isn't the only way to deal with anger. Just make sure
that he is safe, but otherwise leave him be. He'll probably go somewhere and
destroy a few things, but knowing Harry it will just be some rocks or
something. He needs to work the anger out of his system and since Voldemort
doesn't appear to have plans for this Halloween, young Mr. Potter can't work
out that anger by fighting him, so this is the best."
       :I don't like it. What if he comes across Death Eaters?:
       Dumbledore actually chuckled. "Then I feel very sorry for the Death
Eaters."
       Fawkes hopped distractedly, first gripping his perch with his left claw,
then with his right. :I do not like it,: he said. :But I do not have much
choice. I cannot track him through this much anger.: The phoenix seemed to
shiver. Phoenixes were beings of light and the baser emotions drove them away.
       "Just let him know, we are here for him," Dumbledore added before he
settled back to his desk, looking at the paperwork. There were so many details
he had to oversee.
       Fawkes whistled slightly and the old wizard knew that was all the
agreement he'd get from the phoenix on this. :I will let him know,: Fawkes said
finally before spreading his wings and soaring out the open window.
       Dumbledore sighed and sat back for a moment. Fawkes was not happy, but
his understanding of extreme human emotion was sometimes flawed. Harry would be
better for this, more controlled and that could only benefit them. The small
breach in security could be overlooked in the long run and because with this,
the boy would trust them more when he remembered that they accepted his anger
as a natural part of healing and that they had respected his privacy.
       Correctly controlled, this could be to their advantage.
===
       The Dark Lord frowned. There was something in the air, something he
could feel. It was a day of power, but this was something beyond that and
whether it would be good or ill he could not tell. Many of his forces were
disappointed that he had not ordered an extraordinary attack today, but they
were obedient and while they did not understand the reasons, they merely took
the time to celebrate the holiday. He hadn't forgotten his prisoners either and
before him there were several of Lucius's rebels in various states of pain. He
was impressed with the former Azkaban prisoners' creativity when it came to
torture, especially since the only thing he'd forbidden them to do was kill.
Not that there were many of Lucius's forces alive still. The Dark Mark required
blood sacrifice to apply so at the end of their pain there was death as the
wizards swore loyalty to him.
       The last of those in Azkaban who were not already Death Eaters were
swearing their loyalty to him today. Not all of them had, of course, and he'd
killed a few. Most of the short-term prisoners were still locked up below
though he was considering Imperioing them and letting them go. Lucius was in
what had become his normal position of honour so that he could see everything.
While the fish hooks had been effective, today tiny blades were driven into his
flesh at each joint and some of his blood vessels had been brought to the
surface and were being held there by thin slivers of metal which were hot with
the magic of the room. Each of the vessels had been pierced so that blood
dripped over Lucius. The wizard was silent but Voldemort could smell his pain.
       He was about to call a halt to the festivities when he saw it, a
gathering darkness in the back of his throne room. The more sensitive of his
forces also felt it and turned. Even Lucius looked over but it appeared for a
moment as nothing more than a deep shadow.
       "Leave," Voldemort ordered pre-emptively.
       His forces turned their attention back to him and in that instant from
the darkness a footfall was heard. Voldemort had actually never seen his
beloved in this form but he could feel the power literally rolling off his
precious Harry. He could also feel the anger and the rage. A girl he didn't
recognise fell to the ground unconscious behind Harry as he stepped further
into the room. Harry looked the very definition of a mage warrior. His hood was
up, obscuring his features, magic seemed to ripple around him and there was a
sense of barely controlled power coming from him. No weapons were visible and
runes were embedded in the inky darkness of his robes. They glittered and
vanished, shifting always such that no one could see what they were or how to
counter them.
       "Leave," Voldemort ordered again. This time a few of the wizards got the
message, though perhaps they were scared of the absolute power Harry was
radiating. With a flick of his wand, the prisoners were returned to their
cells. He would deal with any corpses later since it was obvious that Harry
needed his attention now.
       The Dark Lord didn't even see his beloved draw the sword but there was a
flash of steel and one of the slower wizards screamed in pain as they were cut.
The thick coppery tang of fresh blood spread through the throne room, but
Voldemort thought nothing of it as he rose and began walking towards Harry. The
last of the wizards finally moved, a few of them attempting and failing to
apparate before they ran as Harry continued to cut around him almost blindly.
       As the heavy doors thudded closed the Dark Lord spoke, softly, gently,
letting his voice carry his concern and his love. He tried opening his mind to
his beloved, but he could feel nothing but rage. "Harry?"
       Even beneath the cowl that hid his features Voldemort could feel Harry's
eyes burning and a pulse of almost pure power pushed him backwards as the
Shadows around Harry came alive. It felt like the time at Ollivander's and at
the thought of the wand maker, his ribs ached and he allowed himself to be
pushed back. The Shadows spread through the throne room and in their wake the
Serpent Lord recognised the forms of the Muggles. They were left, impossibly
strung up, but most were not aware of their situation due to the Legilimency
the Dark Lord had performed weeks back upon them. The four who were aware
hissed in pain but showed no other reaction.
       There was a final pulse of darkness and Voldemort was pushed back into
his throne as the Muggles awoke. Silence reigned for just a moment before Harry
screamed and flung his sword away with a clatter. He danced forward, his claws
flashing as he slashed at the Muggles.
       The Dark Lord had seen many examples of violence. He'd participated in
more than a few, but there was a certain raw power in the way Harry moved, a
viciousness that few could match. He wasn't thinking and his hood had fallen
back. His teeth were bared and his eyes seemed to be glowing as he cut through
the Muggles. Power flowed off him in waves and the Dark Lord was forced to
raise a shield. It wasn't like Harry's coming of age ceremony; the power was
more controlled this time, but it was strong and it didn't care particularly
who it attacked just so long as it caused pain. Voldemort nodded in
understanding as he caught that feeling. He understood that pain and knew that
for the moment all he could do was wait.
       Probably the most disturbing thing was the silence. Harry didn't voice
his anger and the only sound was the pull of his claws through flesh and the
blood as it splattered on the stone. The prisoners did scream out, but their
voices were of no importance. Voldemort watched as Harry moved between the
Muggles, spinning and turning even as he slashed around him and suddenly a
smile graced the Dark Lord's face. Harry was beautiful! He was the most
beautiful being Voldemort had ever seen and he settled back, trying to ignore
the growing tightness in his groin, to watch the exquisite dance his mate was
showing him.
       Most of the wounds weren't that bad. Harry's claws were short, but every
Muggle was sporting cuts and gashes all over their bodies and each had a small
pool of blood forming beneath them. While it was hard to tell with the black
robes Harry was wearing, it did not appear that a single drop of blood had
landed on him. He spun and he danced and cut high and cut low and the throne
room filled with the thick smell of blood.
       Finally one of the Muggles gave an odd gurgle and Harry spun to a stop
in front of the throne, breathing hard. Voldemort could feel that the anger had
lessened. It had not abated. It would take more than this to rid his mate of
such anger, but the Boy-Who-Lived was calmer now. Slowly Harry rose and turned
to look at the Muggles. One or two had died, but he didn't seem to notice that
and Voldemort was left to wonder at the mysterious smile that graced his mate's
features.
       Harry smiled as he breathed deeply. The scent of blood was most calming,
but it still wasn't enough. These were the animals who had hurt him again and
again and their suffering was not something he wanted to cut short. Even so,
just slicing them up was too easy. But he remembered something that might be
appropriate. He remembered the soul deep satisfaction he had felt after he had
seen and taunted Heprah.
       :Beloved,: Harry said silently and was warmed by the sheer welcome and
the depth of love he felt in Voldemort's mind. Harry sent a few images to the
Dark Lord and Harry's smile spread to Voldemort's lips as he saw his beloved's
plan. Harry waved his hand and all the Muggles were turned to face the throne.
Another wave of his hand and from the blood under each Muggle a thin blade
formed. Each blade was ornate and curved and in other circumstances might be
called decorative. Each one rose and settled itself against the throat of the
muggle whose blood had formed the knife. A thin trail of blood formed a string
that ran down the back of each muggle before looping between their legs and
tying itself around the tips of each of their penises. The only muggle not to
have a knife at her throat was Petunia but she was turned towards Vernon and
Dudley and her eyes could see the intent behind her nephew's gesture.
       Voldemort rose from his throne, shedding his outer robes as Harry simply
stood and waited. There had to be a certain brutality in this and Harry didn't
flinch when the Dark Lord transfigured the stone floor into a waist high bench
and pushed him over it. A long fingered white hand grabbed at the neck of
Harry's robes and the shadows pretended to tear when Voldemort ripped them
away. :So beautiful,: he said privately, licking his lips.
       Several of the muggles groaned as they realised what was about to
happen.
       As the Dark Lord exposed his beloved he flicked a finger in what
probably looked like a caress but was really non-verbal wandless magic. It was
a simple charm not spoken about or taught but one which was essential.
Lubrication could be manually applied but magic was so much more convenient.
       :It needs a warming component,: Harry complained and Voldemort was hard
pressed not to laugh at his beloved.
       :I'll add it next time,: he promised, even as he seemingly forced
Harry's legs apart. Harry struggled a bit and one of Voldemort's long fingered
hands grabbed his beloved wrists and pushed them into the bench above Harry's
head. With his other hand he reached down and stroked himself to erection. The
Muggles groaned and red eyes narrowed as he watched their reactions. Most were
getting aroused but they were fighting it. If they got too erect the blood
string around their cock would pull the blade across their throat. Harry did
have a very refined sense of what was appropriate.
       Without preamble and as slowly as he could to give Harry time to try to
loosen himself, Voldemort pushed himself into his beloved. He sighed in deep
satisfaction and made small movements to try to make it a bit more comfortable
for Harry.
       :It's okay,: Harry encouraged him. :It doesn't hurt.:
       :Don't lie to me,: Voldemort chided though he knew this was Harry's
will. He moved slowly, enjoying the tightness and warmth of his beloved.
       :You'll have to say something,: Harry said, sharing the memory of Heprah
with his beloved.
       The Serpent Lord smiled and licked his lips again before he looked up at
his audience. "Beautiful, isn't he?" he questioned the Muggles. "Young, pretty,
lithe, and tight," He punctuated each virtue with a thrust of his hips. "Though
he does require just the hint of force to discipline him to your will, but once
he's bound, you have a lovely creature that's ready to obey your desires and
pleasure you. And now," the Dark Lord smiled again, "he obeys me," he added
plunging his full length into Harry's body.
       It was too much for a couple of the muggles and their life blood sprayed
over the others as the blood formed blades bit deep into their throats. Their
erections faded as their bodies died and fell to the stone floor to lie
discarded in their own blood and wastes.
       Harry arched his back as much as he could, which drove his butt on to
the Dark Lord's cock and he lifted his head, turning to face his beloved.
Voldemort leaned over and the two of them shared a long leisurely kiss as Harry
moved his ass through little circles.
       "Harry, please," one of the Muggles begged.
       Harry broke away from their lingering kiss and turned green eyes towards
the speaker. "So good," he moaned almost theatrically, squeezing and moving
himself watching as the Muggle gulped and hardened and frowned, sweat pouring
down his face as he fought the sensation.
       Voldemort licked along Harry's neck slowly before he lifted his body and
grasped Harry's hips, holding him firmly and thrusting deeply. Harry arched
backwards, his mouth open and gasping. "So good," he said again as the pain
faded and he became accustomed to his lover's length and girth within him.
       More of the Muggles hissed and groaned and a few more lost the battle
against their arousal, pushed beyond their limits by the obvious pleasure both
the Dark Lord and Harry were experiencing. Blood spurted and splashed on the
stone, though neither Voldemort nor Harry paid any attention to the Muggle
deaths. They were too lost in pleasure of each other. They had only been a few
months apart, but it was a few months too long for both of them.
       All too soon Voldemort felt himself tighten, his climax fast
approaching. Harry's body was even sweeter than he remembered and as he felt
himself cum he pulled Harry up to him, burying himself fully in the young body
and taking his mouth forcefully. The pleasure was incredible and with each wave
he plunged himself deeper into Harry.
       At length the Dark Lord pulled out of Harry, replete and satisfied for
the moment. Harry moved with him, turning in his arms to kiss him again before
he drew back, another smiled on his face. It was Harry's turn to lick his lips
as he turned back to the remaining Muggles. "So good," Harry said again,
reiterating his praise of previously, green eyes sparkling and happy. Nakedness
hardly mattered, but the Shadows were quick to form around their Master again
and he flicked his eyes over the survivors. Voldemort took a few steps back to
his throne where he settled in again to watch. With a half thought the stone
bench disappeared.
       Harry smiled at the Muggles and the Serpent Lord watched as he
transformed slightly, emphasising his claws but not manifesting his wings.
Harry flexed his fingers and Voldemort could see that his toes were scratching
deep incisions into the stone floor. The Shadows moved the surviving Muggles,
dropping them down to their knees in a line and the blades of blood splashed to
the ground. Harry walked up to them, approaching the Dursleys' first. Almost
gently he reached out and cupped Petunia's face, forcing her to look up at him.
       "Not enough for you," He said softly and she vanished. Harry ignored the
way that Dudley and Vernon cried out as she disappeared and he took another
step down the line, this time reaching out towards his cousin. It was no
surprise to him that Dudley was still alive. The boy had never been that
aroused by sex, instead Dudley got his pleasure from seeing Harry beaten and he
wasn't about to submit to being pounded in that fashion, not even for the
enjoyment of watching his cousin fight what was for him a normal reaction. As
he looked into Dudley's eyes, Harry murmured the same words he had said to
Petunia. "Not enough for you," and as with his aunt, Dudley vanished and Harry
stepped forward to the next in the line.
       Harry reached out again, this time grasping at Vernon. The man was skin
and bones and green eyes smiled as his claws cut thin lines under Vernon's
chin. The older man squeezed his eyes shut. "Look at me Vernon," Harry ordered,
his voice carrying a subtle compulsion. Almost unwillingly Vernon opened his
eyes to look into Harry's green orbs. "It will never be enough for you," Harry
whispered and Vernon too vanished. Harry stepped forward again and Voldemort
vaguely recognised the man he knew had been the first, the one who had broached
the idea to Vernon Dursley. Harry didn't bother to gently hold his face, but
instead he slashed his claws down, opening deep gashes across the man's face
but not killing. "And it will never be enough for you," he said finally and the
man vanished.
       That just left the other Muggles on their knees before Harry and the
Dark Lord. Harry flexed his claws again and stepped to the closest. Voldemort
watched as with deliberate slowness, his beloved reached out with razor sharp
talons and ran two fingers from ear to ear of the Muggle. Blood sprayed out
covering Harry, but he thought nothing of it as he stepped to the next one in
the line and repeated the gesture. As Harry moved down the line of Muggles,
cutting each throat, Voldemort noticed that instead of letting the bodies fall
this time, the Shadows hoisted them up, letting them hang head down as the
blood drained from them. There was no arcane value in Muggle blood so what were
they playing at?
       Finally Harry came to the end of the line of Muggles. His hands and arms
were red, his hair was almost flat with the blood soaked into it, and rivulets
ran down over his face and none of that had seemed to have bothered him until
the last Muggle twitched in the Shadows' grip, his life force splashing on to
the stone. When there was no one left to kill, Harry seemed to come back to
himself with a start. The Dark Lord felt it when the anger dissipated as if it
was never there and emerald eyes looked back down the line of Muggles, seeing
their nakedness, seeing the gaping wounds on each throat and hearing the blood
drip on to the floor.
       A new wave of power pinned the Dark Lord to his throne and vanished the
Muggle bodies, leaving only a seeming ocean of blood on the throne room floor.
The Serpent Lord could do nothing but watch as his beloved fell to his hands
and knees retching at the knowledge that he had killed. Harry's wings
manifested, arching high and spreading above him but they were no longer the
beautiful pure sparkling white that Voldemort remembered, they were instead
deep jet ebony that seemed to suck the light out of the room. In all honestly,
the Dark Lord couldn't say which he preferred. There was extreme beauty in both
colours.
       Harry continued retching, choking and crying, all unaware of his
surroundings. Voldemort smiled, the expression odd given the situation before
he rose and walked towards his mate, crooning low in his throat. Quick strides
brought him to Harry's side and he reached out, not even bothering to mutter
scourgify as he cleaned the blood off his beloved and vanished the vomit. Harry
showed little response when long fingered white hands touched him and the Dark
Lord began tracing small circles at that spot between Harry's wings that he
knew made his mate feel so good. All the while he continued a soft wordless
croon. As Harry's trembling faded Voldemort picked him up, finding out that
wings weren't as easy as he thought to tuck into his arms to carry his beloved
bridal fashion. He never stopped stroking Harry, though once he had his beloved
in his arms, his gestures were limited to gentle caresses against black
feathers and Harry's thigh. Emerald eyes clouded as Harry relaxed slightly.
       "Shh, Harry," Voldemort said softly. "I told you, an eternity ago 'I
will take you through the difficult times of the first few. I will lead you
through such rites until you are whole.' And now that you are ready, I will
give you your fill, but not now, not yet. Now you need to rest." He leaned down
to kiss Harry's forehead before he apparated them out of the room to his
personal chambers.
       Later, the Death Eaters would return to the Throne Room to find it empty
of everything save for a huge puddle of blood and an incoherent Sixth Year girl
sitting in the edge of the puddle, staring up at an message on the wall that
was smeared there.
       "This is what it cost me."
===
       Voldemort sat in a comfy conjured chair and watched Harry sleep. The
young man's hair was going everywhere and his wings took up more space than
should be possible, but he was sleeping soundly with no tremors or nightmares
or thoughts of what he'd just done. The Dark Lord would have lain with his
mate, embracing him but he needed to think.
       Whenever anyone, light or dark, killed, they had to somehow justify it
to themselves. If they didn't, they'd drive themselves crazy. For some it
wasn't difficult, for others it required a lot of thought. As a Dark Lord he'd
come to terms with killing a long time ago and he barely thought about the
lives he either directly took or those that through his actions he caused to
die. Harry would not be able to accept his personal justification; 'they are
lesser beings who should be honoured to die by my hand' was not something that
would sit well with his beloved.
       He couldn't even impress upon Harry that the deaths had been self-
defence. The Muggles had definitely deserved no less but how Harry now
justified it to himself, how he accepted the fact that he had killed in cold
blood that was something else. Perhaps though...
       Red eyes raked over Harry's form. He could suck him down Voldemort
thought, internally cringing at the vampiric tone of his musing. He could
pleasure Harry so much so that he was completely empty by the time he woke up
and completely sated. It would leave the younger man feeling lethargic with
satisfaction and would make him feel happy but it could also completely alter
his perception of his actions...
       No... The Dark Lord sighed after considering the idea a few moments
longer. No matter how much fun that would be, it would not do for Harry to
associate killing with sexual gratification. It would not be healthy and
realistically for the future the Dark Lord wasn't sure he would have the
stamina... He would have to help Harry come to terms with killing in another
way.
       :Good,: the whisper was almost under his sharp hearing. :We would not
have allowed that.:
       "I don't suppose you have any suggestions?"
       :No, this one is difficult for us as well.:
       Voldemort sighed. That the Muggles deserved to die was established. But
when one cared about life as Harry did, how did you justify that to yourself?
It was not combat, it was not self-defence. It was... Ah... That was it. It was
desire. It was an expression of hatred.
       The Dark Lord looked over at his sleeping mate. Trust him to be
complicated. Where usually one reason worked for him to justify killing, he
rather thought Harry would require several and which one used would depend on
the situation. Self-defence was easy. Combat was also fairly simple. Dumbledore
could teach Harry those reasons. Desire though, that was something only the
Dark Lord could teach. Most would think it wrong to kill because you desired
it, Voldemort thought nothing of it. Killing was an expression of power and
after those Muggles had hurt Harry so much, it was natural that Harry desired
to show his power over them. And he had, in the most vicious and final way
possible.
       And that was how he would have to teach his beloved to accept killing
this time...
       So first he would have to wait for Harry to wake up, then he could
explain killing and how to justify it, and then he could screw his beloved into
the mattress... if he had time. The Dark Lord resisted the urge to growl. As
always the consideration would be about time... So if he had the time now and
did not wish to sleep yet, then he should begin to make some plans for the
future.
       "Which of my Death Eaters do you trust the most?" Voldemort asked aloud.
"Which of my Inner Circle," he added the clarification.
       :Dolohov,: the Shadows replied without hesitation. :He is wholly your
creature.:
       "Good," The Dark Lord agreed before he reached out, feeling for
Antonin's dark mark to summon the man to him. Some of the former Azkaban
inmates were lodged in his stronghold and Dolohov was one so he responded to
the summons quickly.
       Antonin had been planning a minor raid for the first full moon in
November when he was summoned. Fenrir was busy fighting for ascendency, but
there were other members of his pack who were more than willing to be herded in
werewolf form to attack. The exact details would be worked out later, as the
older Death Eater knew from experience when the Dark Lord summoned you, it was
best to respond quickly.
       Like most of the Inner Circle, he had been admitted into the outer
chambers of the Serpent Lord's chosen quarters. The initial room was rather
odd. It was completely bare. Stone and timber inlaid the floor and the walls,
but they were not in patterns, instead it was almost as if each was a sample.
They were samples, Antonin realised as he looked around, realising that his
Lord merely transfigured the raw materials in the outer chamber into whatever
he wanted when he allowed people into it.
       The summons was repeated and the older Death Eater stared at the door.
The Dark Lord never allowed anyone into the inner chambers. Those who did
venture there did not leave alive. "Antonin," he heard his name called, and he
could also hear the slightest note of exasperation. He stepped up to the door.
"My Lord."
       "Come in, Antonin," the reply was immediate.
       Dolohov knew he was one of the Serpent Lords most trusted Death Eaters.
He knew he had not failed his master. He knew in his heart that he would follow
Voldemort into hell itself, but he still gulped at the summons into the Dark
Lord's most private chambers. He was controlled enough to suppress any tremors
as he entered, stepping through the door but avoiding moving further into the
room.
       Voldemort barely glanced at Antonin as he entered, but he was impressed
and reassured. The man was suitably nervous at his invitation into one of his
Master's most private chambers, but he was composed enough to hide that well
and even through his nerves he was curious. His eyes moved discretely taking in
everything, though they did keep returning to Harry's wings.
       Dolohov was almost hyper aware as he entered the room. He saw things he
would never have noticed otherwise. The door had seven locks and was the only
entry. The carpet was thick and even with his stout boots he sank into it,
almost as if walking in long grass. The room was large, but the bed dominated
it though there were also two chairs before a large fire place. In the centre
of the mantelpiece there was an old cup that called to him, but it vanished in
shadow before he got a good look at it. Light seemed to be sourceless and
scarce and as his eyes adjusted to the gloom, he could not help but note that
there was a winged something sleeping in the bed... Something his Lord was
sitting in a third chair watching with an oddly fond gaze.
       "Come in, Antonin," Voldemort repeated, gesturing vaguely to a spot near
him. The implication was obvious and Dolohov moved as freely as he could to
stand where indicated. As he moved he tried to make out what exactly was
sleeping in the Dark Lord's bed... apparently with his full consent and
knowledge given the way the red eyes were avidly watching the figure. At first
whatever it was looked like nothing more than a blob of blackness but as
Dolohov's brown eyes adjusted to the light he could see that there were
feathers there. Many, many glossy black feathers arranged into absolutely huge
wings. He'd only ever seen wings that large on winged horses... or a Gryphon.
But while his Lord had rather odd tastes and perhaps a serpent might have slept
there, no other animal would. The bulk beneath those wings was not enough to be
either animal... With a small start that he tried to suppress the old Death
Eater realised the figure beneath those wings was human.
       "I'm assigning you a long term mission," Voldemort began before he
watched Antonin with an indulgent smile. The Death Eater was paying attention
to him but his attention kept wandering. He was discreet about it, but he was
very curious as to who was sleeping in the bed. In the past the Dark Lord had
indulged his more carnal desires but never in his private chambers. The
presence of someone in his bed either indicated extreme favour or blood rite
sacrifice and sacrifices were not allowed to sleep comfortably. Currently Harry
was lying on his stomach, his wings obscuring most of his body and his head was
resting on his arms, which partially hid his face.
       "My Lord," Dolohov replied, somewhat distracted. "What would be the
mission?"
       "Acquisition."
       "Who or what, my Lord?"
       Voldemort nodded. Antonin was wise enough to realise the mission could
be for either. "Potter," the Dark Lord said shortly. "I have expressed my
interest in him often enough, and the fact that I do not wish him tortured or
maimed but delivered unto me whole. The Ministry and the Order of the Phoenix
expect him to fight and have spent the summer training him for this purpose.
I'm informed they have taken him as an Auror Apprentice."
       Antonin frowned. "He will be a difficult acquisition, my Lord."
       "He will be," Voldemort agreed and then had to suppress a smile when
Harry chose that moment to shift in his sleep, rolling slightly and moving one
arm, which now gave Dolohov an unobscured view of his profile. The Serpent Lord
saw the exact instant recognition dawned on his servant's face and was
fascinated at the play of emotion. Usually the older Death Eater was collected,
but his control was stretched as he tried to assimilate this knowledge.
       Surprise was evident of course, followed by confusion. There was a brief
glimmer of understanding that was quickly drowned by bafflement. Resentment
flared but just as the understanding had been drowned it too was suppressed,
this time by clear bemusement.
       "Dolohov," the Dark Lord prompted as if he had not noticed anything
amiss. He trusted Antonin but even those he trusted could make mistakes. So
far, his reactions had been honest, but now that he knew, things could change.
       Visibly Dolohov gathered himself. With the barest flick of his eyes
towards Harry, he addressed his Lord. "I understand some of this my Lord," he
began, his voice firm. "But I would be arrogant to believe that I knew all."
       "Understand?"
       "I understand why your plans have called for such leniency against the
Ministry at this time, my Lord."
       "And what don't you understand?"
       Dolohov blinked and unconsciously relaxed slightly. From his Lord's
tone, he had passed some sort of test. After he'd been released from Azkaban
and it was as if nothing had changed, he had thought his faith in his Lord was
beyond testing, beyond doubt. In the instant he had recognised Harry Potter,
sleeping as calm as can be in his Lord's private chambers he had known his
faith could still be tested. All sorts of theories had crossed his mind, most
of them dealing with the thought that what he saw was not real but he had seen
the soft look on his Lord's face and it was a look he last remembered gracing
the face of a young Tom Riddle when he had looked up at the castle of Hogwarts.
It was the exact same face and Antonin had known this was real, Harry Potter
was really sleeping in the Dark Lord's bed and he had absolutely no idea how or
why this had come to be. It would be best to be honest in answering his Lord's
questions. Voldemort knew when he was lied to and attempting to speculate would
only be wrong. "I do not understand how he can be here, my Lord or why he is
here."
       Voldemort smiled. "It is a rather long story but suffice to say, I
showed him the truth and in return he will give me the world."
       "Then I do not understand why you need him acquired... Wait," Dolohov
absolved his own objection. "If the Ministry wants him to fight, others of your
followers may fight back and they could hurt him."
       The Dark Lord smiled and Dolohov was amazed to see true amusement there.
Around the chamber the shadows seemed to quiver in their own mirth. "No one
could hurt him," Voldemort said. "If they do, they will find the pain
redoubled. However, I do wish you to acquire him so that no others seek to gain
my favour by bringing him to me."
       "No matter his status with the Ministry, or his own ability, it would be
an expensive raid but not impossible," Dolohov speculated. "What other
restrictions are there my Lord?" He was beginning to come to the conclusion
that the Dark Lord did not expect him to succeed in this order and he was
finding it most novel that in all likelihood, failure would not be met with the
Crucio curse.
       "His friends and family are not to be hurt or killed. There will be
battles this year, so that cannot be guaranteed always but no raid by you may
result in that."
       "I will need a team, my Lord," Antonin said.
       "I will ask Harry not to kill you," Voldemort said and the Death Eater's
eyes flew to the young wizards face.
       The way his Master had said that, so matter of factly made reality all
the more sharp. There was no question now that Potter was capable of killing,
something Dolohov would have doubted if the Dark Lord had not been so straight
forward.
       "I cannot guarantee anyone else," the Serpent Lord continued, noticing
but not caring for the revelations that Dolohov was experiencing. Each reaction
merely confirmed to him that Antonin was fit as one of his most trusted,
possibly even the most trusted Death Eater. He could see now why the shadows
were so confident that Dolohov was wholly his creature. They hadn't so much as
peeped an objection to his plan. "And you are correct, my old friend. I do not
really expect you to succeed in acquiring Harry, but you will be very well
rewarded should you succeed."
       Antonin nodded. "Severus would be a welcome addition to my team," he
speculated, knowing that the Potion Master was currently not in favour.
       "Snape is mine."
       Both the Dark Lord and his follower turned at the sleepy voice that made
the proclamation.
       "I don't recall giving him to you," Voldemort said as Dolohov stared at
the green eyes which opened and blinked without the slightest trace of fear or
discomfort. It was those eyes that convinced the tiny little part of his mind
that was holding on to the belief that this was all an illusion that it was
real.
       "Probably because I hadn't gotten around to asking for him yet," Harry
replied, shifting slightly to lie on his side, one wing tucked under him, the
other stretched behind him. The position not so incidentally gave him an
unimpeded view of the Death Eater and left both hands free for casting.
       "Why Snape?" Voldemort asked, wondering if Harry knew exactly what he
was asking for.
       "Regardless of his loyalties, he is too valuable a resource just to
kill."
       "Humph! I can, or you could make any potion he can."
       "That is true, but at the moment neither of us have the time. And you do
not have the creativity to invent new potions the way he does."
       Dolohov was stunned. Of all the conversations he thought he could be
witness too between the Dark Lord and the Boy-Who-Lived, one where they were
discussing the fate and skills of a Death Eater as equals had not been on the
list of possibilities. And they were as equals. He could not imagine how else
the young Potter could raise objections to the Dark Lord's desires.
       Voldemort snarled softly at the truth of Harry's words. "I want him to
suffer." The statement really was at the core of the issue. The price of
betraying him was long established. If he let even Snape escape, no matter the
reason, there were others of his forces, weak minded fools who now doubted the
one moment of wisdom in their lives that had brought them to him. They too
would run.
       Harry chuckled weakly, "I never said he couldn't suffer, just that he
was mine."
       Dolohov's brown eyes blinked in confusion. To him that made no sense but
he could see an almost amused understanding lighting his Lord's red eyes. "Put
him on your team," the Dark Lord instructed, "though he will not remain there
for long."
       "My Lord."
       "For the rest of your team, chose for expendability. I don't imagine Mr.
Potter will take too kindly to attempts to capture him."
       "I don't imagine I will either," Harry murmured and while his voice
sounded calm, Voldemort could feel that Harry was beginning to lose his
composure as his memories returned.
       "We will continue this conversation when you bring your team list to me
for approval," the Serpent Lord ordered the older Death Eater in clear
dismissal.
       Dolohov was still curious and his curiosity was raising one hundred and
one questions but he knew that to stay further would be to die and so with a
smart salute he turned and left, making sure to close the door firmly behind
him. The instant he was secure in the ante chamber he felt himself tremble.
Blast it! He was not some wet behind the ears green recruit! He knew his Lord.
He knew what he was capable of... but then the unreality of what he had seen
intruded upon his mind again. That had been Harry Potter, the Dark Lord's
downfall sleeping in his bed, and talking to him as an equal, as someone who
expected to get what they wanted.
       'He already has chosen to abandon you,' the memory of Lucius seemed to
whisper in his ear but Dolohov shook his head. He had to remain clear and
focused to solve this mystery. He could not let assumption and passion guide
him.
       His Master had summoned him knowing full well that he would see Harry
Potter there, because even if the boy had not awoken, his identity was clear.
Would someone who had abandoned them let him see that? 'Of course he would,'
part of Antonin's mind took on Lucius' voice as it argued with him. 'He's
arrogant enough to believe he can get away with anything.'
       No, that wasn't quite right. Dolohov frowned, replaying the interaction
between Potter and his Lord in his mind... Potter had ... he had asked for
Snape in the end... and his Lord had given him...
       Suddenly everything fell into place for the older Death Eater. Lucius
had it wrong. He assumed that Potter had seduced the Dark Lord; he'd never
considered the possibility that their Lord had seduced Potter. That is what
Dolohov had seen, a Dark Lord secure in their power, giving a titbit to his
pet. Malfoy was a fool. He'd used the exact same tactic to woo Narcissa to his
side, yet he could not see it when others used it. Dolohov and the other Death
Eaters had watched then. Lucius had been angry he'd been betrothed to Narcissa.
She was of the House of Black but far down in the inheritance and at the time
she had been obsessed with Voldemort. Lucius had proclaimed he would not have a
woman who would lie with him while thinking of someone else and since he had no
choice but to marry her, he had then proceeded to seduce her. Voldemort's
disinterest in taking a partner except for casual liaisons or to cause them
pain at that time had probably helped, but Dolohov could remember Lucius giving
Narcissa a jewelled pendant. The pendant had meant nothing to him, but it had
meant the world to the blonde woman and from that moment on she'd seen her
betrothed in a new manner.
       And that was what he had just witnessed. Snape meant nothing to his
Lord. Oh the opportunity to torture him would be missed but to Voldemort the
Potion Master was already dead. Potter had obviously wanted the man, so the
gift, while insignificant to the Dark Lord was of considerable value to Potter
and the fact that the Potion Master had been so easily given would only cement
in Potter's mind the virtues of the Dark Lord.
       Dolohov chuckled weakly, taking deep breaths as he let himself calm
down. Unconsciously perhaps he had been worried, his words in Azkaban had
haunted him but his final statement had been the truth. His Lord was more
focused now and Antonin looked forward to the day the Ministry and the Order
realised that they had pinned their hopes on a dream that his Lord had already
dreamt.
       In his chamber, Voldemort sat watching Harry as Dolohov let himself out.
He continued to sit long after the door had swung closed and latched itself and
Harry shifted to sit on the edge of the large bed. Silence hung between them
for what seemed a very long time.
       "Well," Harry finally said. "I killed them."
       "You did," Voldemort agreed before he asked, "Do you know why you killed
them?"
       Harry was silent again for a while. He closed his eyes, turning his face
towards the ceiling. The gesture highlighted the smooth white skin of his
throat and the Dark Lord imagined he could count Harry's pulse as he sat there.
       "Because I wanted to," came the reply eventually, softly spoken and
carrying a load of regret.
       "Exactly," Voldemort said. "But that doesn't mean there was anything
wrong with your desire."
       Green eyes flashed up at him, confused. "You wanted to kill them,"
Voldemort said. "I do not understand why you now feel ashamed."
       "Because they were human."
       "Were they?" There was no masking the scorn in the Dark Lord's voice. "I
will grant, they had the forms of humans but where their actions human? They
raped you, many times. They raped who knows how many others. And if you gave
them a chance, they would have done it again. Human? No. They were animals
bound by twisted instinct, how else could we have killed a few by the mere act
of coupling?"
       The Dark Lord leaned back, breathing deeply and more than a little
ostentatiously as Harry watched him. He was on stage though his audience was
one, the act still had to be perfect if it was to sink in. "There are many
reasons, many justifications for killing Harry. Self-defence is one often heard
and if true, it is one of the easier reasons to accept within one's self.
Combat can be difficult but usually is accepted by the psyche."
       Harry hung on to the words as the Dark Lord mused about death.
Unconsciously perhaps he knew that the red=eyed man knew far more about death
and killing than he did. The knowledge was there, but it was clinical. This was
something that made far more sense when explained, when you experienced it.
       "The acceptance of accidental death depends greatly on the person and of
course there is the wilful, deliberate taking of life. The acceptance of that
depends on your force of will, how much you wanted to take that life and how
much you know it was your right to take it. And in this case, my Beloved, it
was your right to take their lives."
       "No one has the rig..."
       "Stop right there!" Voldemort commanded. "Look within yourself. This is
not about right or wrong. This is about power. This is about desire. This is
about if you have the strength to take what you want. And so I will ask you
this for the last time; did you want to kill them?"
       It was hard to tell what was going on behind Harry's Avada Kedrava green
eyes and Voldemort had to resist the urge to reach out to comfort him, to hold
him and to generally protect him from everything. This was important. It was
possibly one of the most important things he would ever help Harry with and it
was one thing that Harry had to come to terms with himself. Before the year was
over and even once it was gone, when they ruled, Harry would kill and while the
Dark Lord knew that his beloved would never be as casual about killing as he
was, the act itself could not be something that incapacitated him.
       "Yes, I wanted to kill them."
       "Did you have the power to kill them?" The Dark Lord led Harry through
the simple questions. Around him the shadows flickered, they were no doubt
adding to the commentary, though it would not be in their usual lackadaisical
way. He knew they could be very serious when they desired and he had no
question that they were being solemn with what they were relaying to Harry now.
       "Yes, I had the power to kill them."
       "And did you desire to kill them?"
       "Yes, I desired to kill them," Harry said the last almost easily and
Voldemort looked quizzically at him. "I should not have been that easy," he
heard Harry add.
       Suddenly a flood gate of understanding opened within the Dark Lord and
he found himself smirking. Harry wasn't upset that the Muggles were dead; he
was upset that he had killed them but not because of the death but because it
had been too easy. "There was nothing more that could have been done," he said
persuasively.
       "I know," Harry replied, shifting his wings slightly. "They were lucky.
I will not grant such mercy to those who are still alive."
       The Dark Lord chuckled and reached out through their bond. Now was the
time to show Harry he was still loved, and that his killing of the Muggles had
not lessened the love felt for him. If anything it had enhanced it. Harry
wasn't faking his reaction. He was now at peace with the thought that he had
killed those Muggles, though he had not been earlier. The shadows and the Dark
Lord's words and his own thoughts had coalesced to bring him that contentment
and Voldemort could feel that Harry knew he would kill again but that the next
time, the reasoning and justification to himself would be different. He would
have to accept it then and forgive himself again. That though was for later.
"Only my mate could out do me in viciousness, and I find myself content just to
watch to see what you can do."
       Harry stood and stretched his wings out either side of him. The shadows
hung around him and all he seemed to be was a black outline in the darkness
with two glowing green eyes that watched everything. "Tell me your pleasure, my
Lord."
       Voldemort laughed aloud. He remembered that question and he remembered
his thoughts that went with it, though it was far too early to kill Lucius. He
rose and moved to face Harry, two long fingers brushing under the boy's chin to
raise the inhumanly beautiful face towards him. "Right now, my pleasure is
you."
===
       It was after the feast and most had gone to bed, and while some had
noticed an absence, most had just shrugged it off as inevitable given the
night. Harry's friends knew better, though; they knew he should have been
there.
       "Ginny, you know where Harry is, don't you?" Ron asked, hissing the
question in an attempt to keep quiet. They were in the Common Room and there
were still a few people awake. Luna was with them as the girls had arranged for
a sleep over or some such. Ron wasn't entirely sure.
       His sister nodded at him in reply to his question, her eyes old.
       "Well, where is he?" Naturally it was Hermione who asked the direct
question, not bothering to keep her voice down since she'd just cast every
privacy charm she could think of.
       "I can't tell you."
       "Can't or won't?" Luna asked almost breathlessly.
       "A bit of both."
       "Why not?
       Ginny smiled at them all trying to soften her words but knowing that
there was no other way to do this except being direct. "Because you don't trust
him yet," she held up her hands to forestall the budding arguments she could
see. "You can disagree, you can argue, but you must be prepared to allow Harry
to follow the path he chooses, just as he will allow you. And then, it is only
if you follow the path he has chosen, when you are certain in your hearts that
you will side with Harry against the Ministry, against the Dark Lord, against
the Order of the Phoenix, against anything, then you will fully trust."
       "Trust goes both ways."
       "It does," Ginny agreed, tossing red hair over her shoulder. "But there
are some secrets that cannot be risked for anything less than absolute
commitment."
       "And you are saying that Harry has secrets that sensitive?"
       "Harry is the only one who can fight the Dark Lord, so yes, he has
secrets."
       "And you know what they are?"
       "I only know those he's allowed me to know."
       "Ginny..."
       "I'm not telling you and that's final," she said firmly.
       "How are we meant to trust him, knowing that he's got secrets like that,
and from what you imply, we'd have be against everyone."
       "No," Ginny looked over at Hermione. Trust the 'brightest witch of her
generation' to try to complicate things. "All you have to do is be certain in
your hearts that you are on Harry's side. Not the Ministry's, not Dumbledore's,
not the Order of the Phoenix or the Dark Lord's or any other side. You have to
be on Harry's side. That's all, and he'll tell you everything."
       "But Harry's side is the Order of the Phoenix and Dumbledore and the
Ministry."
       "Yes, he supports them," Ginny somehow got the words out, "But the
sooner you start thinking of Harry as his own side, the easier it will be."
With that she stepped out of the charms and walked up the stairs to her bed,
leaving the others watching her as if she'd gone insane but somehow unable to
shake the thought that she might very well be right.
===
       For all that Harry had been submissive with his question 'What is your
pleasure' the Dark Lord had discovered there were times when his mate was not
submissive at all. This is not to say that Harry had not enjoyed and
enthusiastically participated with Voldemort, coupling with him after the
question. It was just that now, several hours later the Dark Lord was writhing
on his own bed almost incoherent with pleasure.
       He'd also discovered that his beloved was a teenager, with an
adolescent's drive and stamina. Not that he was objecting. He recognised the
fact that they were equals but he would have liked to alternate positions. It
wasn't as if Harry was simply taking his pleasure, he was more than generous in
giving it. They had already gone several rounds, and both the serpent and
wizard were feeling lethargic repletion. Harry though still seemed almost fresh
and was content to drive their love making, giving the Dark Lord satisfaction
even as he took his own in the slender white body.
       As Harry swallowed the Dark Lord's cock, he drove his fingers in at the
same time. Voldemort's hands fisted in the bed sheets and he gasped brokenly,
choking slightly at the intensity of the feeling. Both he and Harry had agreed
to keep their minds separate for the moment simply because neither wanted to go
through the pain of separation again when Harry left once more. At the end of
the year, then they would couple completely, minds and bodies entwined as one.
The absence of his beloved in his mind did not in any way lessen the pleasure
he felt. Harry was almost inhumanly skilled. His mouth teased and his fingers
probed. He'd already proven that he was a quick learner when he had duplicated
the Dark Lord's wandless charm of earlier and even through the way Harry's
tongue laved at him, tracing out each bulge and vein, almost dancing over his
engorged length, Voldemort felt when Harry renewed it.
       The charm was simultaneous with Harry raising himself up, ignoring the
sticky thread of saliva that trailed from his bottom lip before snapping as he
wrapped his arms around Voldemort's torso and flipped them both over so that
the Dark Lord straddled him. After a bit of squirming Harry sank himself into
his beloved's body and rolled his hips through small circles, his eyes closed
as he let his hands trace over Voldemort's back, tickling and stroking. Harry
flexed his abdomen muscles, lifting himself up enough to let his wings manifest
and brought them around to continue caressing white skin as he moved his hands
to tweak and pinch at the Dark Lord's nipples. He was comfortable with his
animagus form now and could slip between human and halfling almost without
thought, though he did lie back carefully to avoid catching the feathers
awkwardly. Harry avoided going further into his full form because that left him
feeling too weak when he returned to corporeal form.
       Voldemort gasped, panting heavily. He almost seemed like an overly large
rag doll the way his limbs seemed to have no strength. His eyes were open wide
and there were so many sensations running through his body. His nerves were on
fire but it was a fire of intoxication. He held back a scream when Harry lifted
his head, showing his abdominal strength as he licked the sweat from white
skin. The Dark Lord struggled and slowly he forced his knees to bend as he
gathered his legs beneath him, still straddling Harry but now in a position to
control his movement a little.
       Emerald eyes met his as Voldemort struggled to gain even a little
control over their love making. He shuddered in anticipation at the look Harry
directed towards him. The younger man had kept up his movement enticing a
pleasurable glow in the Dark Lord with each inward thrust. A moment later the
Dark Lord felt his head pulled down and Harry's lips were on his, his tongue
licking, demanding, tasting and caressing. Voldemort needed air before Harry
and he threw his head back, exposing his throat. Harry took advantage of that
and bit into his beloved, sucking at the join between shoulder and neck. Last
time the Dark Lord had marked him; this time he was returning the mark of
ownership.
       "Harry," the Dark Lord gasped still panting as he moved his hips slowly.
The friction between their bodies was keeping him erect though his cock was
feeling abused and his balls ached. "Please," he whispered.
       Harry nodded at him, his mouth moving to bite and nip the Dark Lord's
skin, heading towards one of his nipples. Once again he moved his arms to
embrace his lover and he rolled them over again. Voldemort now lay beneath him
and Harry placed his hands on either side of his lover's head. His wings arched
and he could feel them brushing the top of the canopy of the bed as he levered
himself up. He kept driving himself into Voldemort, making sure that each
thrust hit the sweet spot. The motion between them brushed and rubbed the tip
of the Dark Lord's cock that waved erect between them and Harry licked his lips
as he bent down to slowly and sensuously kiss his lover. He knew Voldemort was
mildly impressed with his stamina and even though he had been slipping between
his halfling and human form, he was still reaching the limit of his sexual
drive. He couldn't feel the Dark Lord's level of arousal but he knew he also
had to be close to the edge.
       He slowed his thrusts savouring each movement. The Dark Lord kept
panting and he raised his hands to hold Harry's face. He groaned as Harry
ground his hips against his lover, rubbing his stomach against the Dark Lord's
balls and cock. The effect was electric and with hissed groan Voldemort's hands
tightened on Harry's face as he came, spurting between them in long slow waves.
       The Dark Lord swallowed, gulping in air as he fell from the pinnacle of
pleasure. Harry leaned down, an exultant smile on his face as he gently licked
along each of his lovers cheeks before he licked at Voldemort's lips, lightly
sucking at his upper lip, demanding entry to his mouth. The Dark Lord moaned as
he opened his mouth letting his tongue tangle with Harry's.
       Harry let his weight fall as he pushed powerfully into the warmth of the
Dark Lord's body. His green eyes were clouded with lust and deep in his soul he
felt complete. He was happy and while he was almost exhausted he had never
thought he could feel this content. With a final couple of hard thrusts that
left Voldemort gasping he came deep inside the Dark Lord. As he pumped cum into
the hot passage, there was an exquisite sense of completion that pulsed through
him. He'd felt it each time they had made love tonight but this was slightly
different. This was complete satiation and Harry collapsed beside the Dark
Lord, one arm draped over the white chest that was criss-crossed with his
marks. Harry was breathing just as hard as Voldemort.
       As he gasped for air he waved his hand cleaning up the sticky mess that
covered them and the sheets before he snuggled himself more comfortably into
the Dark Lord's embrace. "I love you," Harry whispered.
       It scared Voldemort how much those words meant to him and how easy Harry
was with his emotions. It was not that he did not reciprocate the feeling just
that the admission was one that tinged of weakness to him. He had discovered
something rather surprising about being a Dark Lord though. It actually
required, if you wished to be truly successful, a great deal of honesty with
one's self. Dark Lords took what they wanted and for most that would be
sufficient. For Voldemort, he had discovered that knowing why he wanted
something was almost as important as that something itself. He'd been
blindsided once or twice by the whys and he did not like to repeat his
mistakes. In the past he'd have been content with just screwing Harry Potter
into the mattress because that is what he wanted. Now he knew he wanted to
because he loved his former enemy. But it was an affection he would only, could
only show in private. :I love you... though next time a little less love would
be nice,: he kept his mind voice light, though he knew Harry would feel the
jest of his words and the satiated exhaustion that was weighing his limbs down.
       Harry laughed though his mirth drained into a bit of a cough as he
fought for breath. :Something to remember me by, for the rest of the year,: he
said.
       "Oh, so you weren't feeling guilty?"
       "About?"
       "Don't be coy. I saw what you did in that little raid. Which Auror
Captain was it, hmm? Baross, Grakul, Sturges or Panrye? Or was it Bones?"
       "Ah," Harry nodded. "I've been assigned Sturges as a Commander."
       "A good man."
       "Yes. The Aurors do seem to be good."
       "The Aurors are good people for the most part," Voldemort said honestly.
"If they ran the Ministry then things would have been very, very different. But
they don't and they don't play politics, so they often don't even see the
damage they can do. Is there any way my forces can fight what you did?" He
asked openly.
       Both Harry and the Shadows laughed. The Shadows had been quiet while
their Master joined with his mate, though they had enjoyed the feast their
lovemaking gave them. :Can't you work them out for yourself?: The Shadows
giggled the question. They were a little surprised the Dark Lord had waited as
long as he had.
       "Everyone seems to try Solaris against them," Harry mused, referring to
the Shadows. "The strongest Solaris even Dumbledore could cast is like a candle
compared to me, and if that is the case, do you really think such a simple
spell will drive them back when they are infused with my power?"
       This was new information to Voldemort and he listened intently. Some
habits, such as the thirst for knowledge were so deeply ingrained that they
were hard to fight. "Why don't you instruct your forces to use something like
Darkshale?"
       The Dark Lord frowned. "You want Death Eaters to use a spell of darkness
against the Shadows?" That didn't make any sense.
       Harry chuckled. "You need to think about it a bit more," he said
lightly. Red eyes narrowed in thought and combined with the earlier frown Harry
was hard pressed not to kiss his beloved at the perplexed beauty he was
showing. Idly he began fluttering his fingers over the white skin of the Dark
Lord's abdomen, tracing out the muscle tone he could feel there.
       "Dark and Light are always fighting for dominance," he hissed slowly
working his way to a conclusion Harry already knew. "But without Light Dark
becomes meaningless, and the reverse is also true... You cannot have Light
without Darkness to define it... But with Light there is also... Shadow..." Red
eyes closed and Voldemort's features relaxed. "I don't believe it," he said in
a tone that clearly indicated he could not believe he had not made that
connection sooner.
       "Don't expect it to be that effective," Harry said conversationally.
"But it might allow a couple to escape. And if you need them, then they had
better escape since it's only a matter of time before one of the Auror Captains
orders me to kill that way."
       "You can kill?" Voldemort was surprised.
       :We can kill,: the Shadows purred.
       "I will have to start using my serpent forces more extensively then."
       :The Ministry is not yet that recovered,: the Shadows said. :They are
holding on because you have given them time and because of their allies.:
       "Don't speak to me of their allies!" Voldemort hissed.
       "What has happened?" Harry asked worriedly. If there was something that
wrong, he may have to give up the werewolves to his beloved. While it would not
affect the final outcome, for the future, it could leave him personally short
of man power.
       "The Goblins," the words were spat almost literally with venom coating
them and Harry could feel Xatarass coming to the fore. "They have never sided
with the Ministry in the past, I expected them to remain neutral. They didn't
even shift when Grindlewald was attacking them so there should be no reason for
them to side against me, but they have."
       "That doesn't seem like such a big problem," Harry said. "You've raided
Gringotts before, you can raid them again... unless that is the reason they are
supporting the Ministry?"
       Voldemort shook his head rolling on to his side, moving one leg over
Harry's and allowing one of his arms to curl up around his beloved to stroke
messy black hair comfortingly even as his other arm drew the slim body closer
to him. "No. As far as I know, the Goblins still don't know that it was me who
broke in. Raiding them isn't the issue. I'll empty every last vault if that's
what I have to do. The issue is they have chosen to stand against me."
       "Fight back," Harry suggested almost stupidly.
       "I'd wipe them out tomorrow, but that would cost me too many of my
forces," Voldemort replied. "Even if the werewolves join me tomorrow..." He
looked speculative for a moment. "Which they might, considering how their
leadership battle is going... wiping out the goblins would leave me too
weakened. It's not just Gringotts, I could destroy that bank personally. It's
all the little colonies."
       "Ah," Harry understood. "So you need a cheap method that will strike
them all?"
       "And those are in short supply."
       Harry moved himself in the Dark Lord's embrace as he considered the
problem. He slipped one arm under Voldemort's waist to embrace him and allowed
his other arm to rest on one white hip. His legs he was content to leave
remained twined with his lover's. "There is no one in the goblin forces you
wish to spare?" he asked slowly.
       "None of them are that intelligent... But I forbid you from killing them
all." Harry had just come to terms with killing Muggles who had hurt him
terribly, Muggles who deserved to die. He would not cope with killing an entire
race. He probably would never be able to cope with that... not and remain who
he was.
       "I wasn't even thinking that," Harry replied.
       Voldemort breathed a small sigh of relief. He could hear the truth in
Harry's voice and the surprise that the Dark Lord had even considered that
method. That more than anything convinced the red eyed wizard that Harry hadn't
thought about using the Shadows to kill the goblins. :We could do it,: the
Shadows whispered and the Dark Lord knew they spoke to him alone. :But you are
correct, we would need the order and it would destroy him. We will have to do
it if we are ordered but he won't,: they added the last with confidence.
       "So what were you thinking?"
       Harry frowned, and he looked so adorable that Voldemort almost wished he
was not still feeling sated. "I was thinking," Harry began, "that if wizarding
methods aren't going to work... then perhaps Muggle means would."
       The Dark Lord froze for an instant. He didn't know much about Muggles
save that some of their weaponry was rather dangerous, even for a wizard of his
calibre... What other weapons did they have though?
       "It was on the news once," Harry continued musing. "I don't remember it
very well but there was something about a new type of flu that could kill..."
       The Dark Lord smiled, his heart swelling with pride as he understood the
concept Harry was suggesting. It was perfect! It had been a while since there
had been a serious epidemic in the wizarding world but they were not unheard
of. Dragon Pox was still dangerous; wizards still died from it... All he had to
do was find some disease that only goblins suffered from. And then he just
needed to nudge it a little, make it stronger... He didn't even have to do that
himself... There'd be a witch or wizard out there with the skills to do that...
he just had to find them. Should he even have a change of heart, he could
develop an antidote and keep it for those just in case incidents.
       :I do love you,: he said exuberantly into Harry's mind, hiding the true
deadliness of his plans. Harry would know in due course but it might distress
him now.
       Harry purred. "Of course you do," he replied cheekily.
       Voldemort chuckled. "Of course, no one else could keep it up."
       Harry burst into full blown laughter that was only muted when the Dark
Lord took his mouth in a sweet slow kiss. "Mine," each whispered when they
broke apart, voices soft and slurred with sleep and they both knew no more.
 
 
***** It’s What You Don’t Know *****
Weapon
Chapter 30 It’s What You Don’t Know
       The last thing Millicent remembered was struggling to breathe as a too
strong Harry Potter held her against the wall. Ridiculously, her mind had
rationalised his strength, thinking that Quidditch had done wonders for his
physique. And then she’d awoken here.
       She’d smelt it before she had opened her eyes. The stench of blood had
been smothering. It had coated her tongue and the back of her throat. It had
been in her nostrils. And then she had opened her eyes
       A sea of red greeted her and that was all she remembered for a very long
time. Gradually she became aware of the stickiness of her skin and she realised
she was sitting on the edge of the sea and it had soaked into her robes,
diffusing upwards the longer she sat there. Millicent had moved to try to get
up and as she did she’d seen the words.
       It had taken her a moment to read them and then she had frozen, the
taste of bile briefly fighting the slickness of the blood coating the back of
her throat. Her words of earlier haunted her and she looked at the pool in
front of her. It could not have come from one being; it was implied that this
was Harry’s price. She stared for a long time, not really seeing the words and
she wondered where or from whom the blood had come from. Millicent wasn’t aware
when two Death Eaters entered the room, pausing as they saw her. She only
vaguely heard the whispered conversation before they left again.
       If she’d had been asked what would bring her out of her reverie, she
wouldn’t have known or thought it possible but eventually Millicent became
aware of her hunger. At first it merely nibbled at her but as time continued to
pass she became aware of the unladylike growling of her stomach and the dryness
in her throat. The growing thirst was actually what forced her to look around
but as she had already vaguely known there was nothing else in the room. Stone
columns lined the room and dominating one end was the throne. It was stone and
it did not look comfy but it was a place of power. She knew that and somehow
the realisation that she was in the Dark Lord’s throne room came to her.
       Shock drowned her thirst for a short time but eventually the body’s
functions re-established their dominance. She had no way of knowing where she
was here and it never occurred to Millicent to wonder why Harry Potter had
taken her to his enemy’s stronghold.
       Time passed and Millicent forced herself to get up ignoring the way her
blood soaked robes clung to her skin. She tried the door to find it locked and
slowly she moved around the edges of the room looking for another exit. They
were smaller doors but as with the main entrance they were locked.
       She was trapped here.
       Millicent gulped trying to ignore the cloying sweetness in the back of
her throat and she sat against the wall, sliding down it drawing her knees to
her chest. She was cold, hungry, thirsty and needed to go to the loo. She knew
where she was but she had no idea where it really was and she had no idea how
to get out or how to let anyone know where she was. If she was at Hogwart’s
then she’d be at the feast now her mind helpfully supplied and her stomach
clung to her spine. Unsettled, she sobbed, tears tracking the way down her face
and eventually tired, cold, hungry and scared Millicent fell asleep.
       She was awakened when she felt two presences enter the room via the soft
pop of apparition. Instinct screamed at her and she shrank into herself trying
to hide. The blood was still there and somehow it was still liquid, but the
message on the wall was not present. The two figures had appeared on the dais,
one dressed in black and the other in a deep red robe that was the colour of
fresh blood. Against the darkened pool of blood the robes seemed overly bright.
The red robed figure sat in the throne and while Millicent had never seen the
Dark Lord she knew it was You-Know-Who. She watched with morbid fascination as
he shared a long lazy kiss with the other person. She didn’t and had never had
a boyfriend but she knew real affection when she saw it and surprisingly that
made her relax slightly.
       Her edginess very quickly returned when both sets of eyes turned to her.
You-Know-Who was sitting on his throne, his red eyes at an even height to
Harry’s green as Harry had stepped down from the dais. Her class mate’s eyes
were like emeralds, hard and distant and the sense of his presence was
overwhelming. He stepped towards her and absurdly Millicent realised Harry had
bare feet. He didn’t even seem to notice the blood and her eyes stretched wide
when wings terrifyingly unfurled themselves from his back.
       The blood froze under his feet and she watched as the freeze spread
impossibly fast through the blood, freezing the entire pool of the sticky
stuff. Her robes had dried out slightly overnight but were still soaked in it
and as she rose, they crunched as the ice crystals broke with the movement. Her
wand was on her, but she knew if she drew it, it would be her death. The look
in both sets of eyes told her that.
       “You have two choices.”
       Millicent started at the voice. She had not expected Harry to speak.
       “You can die here, or you can attempt to gain reprieve.”
       “What do you want?” She was surprised that she could speak, despite the
sheer weight of power pressing down upon her. Her voice was raspy and her
throat dry.
       “Information,” came the short reply.
       Information on what Draco, on what all the Slytherin’s were doing,
Millicent thought. Well, if they were dumb enough to let her know then they
deserved to have her pass on what she knew.
       “You won’t hurt Magstine?” She heard herself ask and was shocked that
even after all this she could still act in what could be seen as defiance.
       “Who is Magstine?”
       “My sister.”
       “Why would I hurt her?” There was genuine confusion in the tone and
suddenly Millicent knew that even after everything, Harry was a far better
wizard than she had any hope to be. For Slytherins, if you could not strike the
one who caused you pain, it was common to strike at something they held dear...
As Harry’s power pressed into her, Millicent realised that maybe she was
wrong... maybe Harry had no thought to hurt her sister, because she had never
been out of his reach. With the amount of power she could feel, so vast that it
seemed unreal, there was probably no target that was out of his reach.
       “It doesn’t matter. I will give you all the information I can,” she
whispered looking down at the floor and because she looked away she could do
nothing but gasp when Harry loomed over her, his eyes spitting emerald fire.
Agony blossomed through her chest and she blinked, not believing what she was
seeing but unable to deny it. One of Harry’s hands disappeared through her
robes into her bosom. There was no blood but her heart ached.
       Slowly he drew his hand back and she blinked, not understanding at all
when the pain faded and there was no damage to her skin or to her robes.
       “My hand is around your heart,” Harry said softly, flexing his claw like
fingers. “And if you so much as breathe a word of anything to anyone, then you
can guess my response.” He smiled gently at her and Millicent’s hands flew to
her chest as her heart twinged in reply to his power.
       “I won’t,” She gasped.
       “I know,” and with that reply the Sixth Year Boy reached out grasping
her shoulder and apparated them both back to Hogwarts.
===
       When Harry got back to Hogwarts, he merely smiled at Millicent before
walking off in the other direction. The Sixth Year girl staggered to her feet
and slowly made her way to the Slytherin dorms to wash and sleep and Harry was
reasonably sure that would be all he heard from her for a while. She may spy
him up something good, she may not. Her reprieve, such as it was, was based
more on timing than on forgiveness. She should enjoy this year because Harry
was fairly certain, even if he did nothing, she was not going to enjoy the
next.
       It took Fawkes all of thirty seconds to confirm that Harry was back in
Hogwarts but the phoenix was not coherent and Harry actually paused as he
listened to the fire bird. The phoenix had touched him right after he left but
beyond making sure that Fawkes was not about to follow him, the black-haired
boy hadn’t really cared what the fire bird wanted. Yesterday Fawkes had simply
told him to be careful and that when Harry was ready, they would all be there
for him and then the sense of Fawkes’ presence had left him. At the time Harry
hadn’t cared. He hadn’t cared for much through the oppressive anger he’d felt
but now he could appreciate it, just probably not in the way the fire bird had
intended. After an initial burst of confusion, Fawkes faded from his mind.
Harry suppressed a resigned sigh and turned towards the Headmaster’s Office.
       He managed to avoid most of the castle’s inhabitants by slipping through
a couple of secret passages and when he reached the gargoyle it opened for him
without even waiting for the password. As he rode the steps upward, Harry
frowned and unconsciously he tensed. He could hear Dumbledore and Snape and
there was a pitiful keening that was almost under his hearing. It left him
feeling despair. He frowned at the imposed emotion and quickly Harry stepped
into the Headmaster’s office before he was invited.
       The desk had been swept clear of everything and the contents, the usual
papers and the few knick knacks were strewn on the floor, unheeded. Dumbledore
was on the far side and the old wizard wore an expression of such utter
desperation that Harry felt his heart contract. Snape, rather
uncharacteristically had his back to the door but the green-eyed young man
could tell that the Potion Master was just as worried. Lying on the desk, red
feathers everywhere, was Fawkes. His breathing was laboured and Harry’s eyes
widened incredulously as he realised that the fire bird was wounded. His wings
fluttered and the phoenix thrashed slightly before the two wizards could calm
him. Fawkes was a large bird but he didn’t take up the entire desk and lined up
at one end was a series of small vials. Carefully Snape reached out one sure
fingered hand to pick one out and brought it close. His other hand gently
scooped Fawkes’ head up and the fire bird drank down the potion, making an
almost human sound as the liquid caught in his throat before it was soothed by
Dumbledore’s calming hands.
       “What happened?” Harry asked as he strode in, unsure what he should do
but knowing that he had to see this.
       “Basilisk,” Dumbledore replied shortly and from Fawkes Harry got a flash
of image. He didn’t recognise the serpent but it was large, forty foot long at
least.
       There was a welter of images and Harry got the impression of a fight
where both serpent and phoenix did damage to the other. Harry frowned when he
sorted out the end images. There were flashes of Shadow. “What?” He demanded of
Fawkes.
       The images were repeated and this time Harry knew what had happened. The
phoenix and the basilisk had fought. Neither had been able to gain victory but
since their battle had happened in the Forbidden Forest Fawkes had been able to
summon help which had tipped the battle in his direction. The basilisk hadn’t
retreated though. It hadn’t been able to retreat, yet, it had been rescued by
darkness.
       Savagely, Harry reached out and dragged a Shadow to him. It squealed and
for a moment Dumbledore and Snape paused in their work. “I ordered you to obey
only me!” Harry snarled at the Shadow.
       “We do,” the Shadow objected allowing its voice to be cast audibly.
Silently other Shadows purred into Harry’s mind as they lapped up his light. :
Xeloc thought that Fawkes was responsible for the death of Xir. We did not
believe that either you or your mate would appreciate the shock of another
death so we rescued Xeloc. Just pretend it was the Dark Lord’s Shadows and be
very harsh and it will be okay. Though,: they added almost speculatively. :You
do taste great this way, Master.:
       “Then why did you help a basilisk against Fawkes?” Harry demanded,
seeming to glow. The Shadows had pretty much confirmed what he had thought had
happened the moment he’d seen them in Fawkes memory. He was very impressed with
Xeloc’s fighting ability. The larger and older serpent in the Chamber of
Secret’s hadn’t done anywhere near this amount of damage to the fire bird.
       “It wasn’t us!” the Shadow replied desperately. “We are loyal Master,
loyal.”
       “Who was it, then?”
       “Those who obey the Dark Lord,” the Shadow gasped, seemingly in pain as
Harry allowed his aura to flare.
       “Bring them to me,” Harry ordered as he dropped the Shadow. “You are my
servants and you answer only to one master. Me.” As he said that Harry took a
deep breath, seeming to calm himself before he turned back towards the
Headmaster’s desk. He studiously ignored the way that Dumbledore’s eyes
glittered with extreme happiness. Snape was more restrained though he was also
relieved. Had they really been that concerned about his will in controlling the
Shadows?
       :Yes,: the Shadows chuckled at him. :You are their weapon, Master, but
they are not sure you have the will to do what needs to be done.:
       “Fawkes, I’m sorry,” Harry said, accepting what the Shadows told him but
ignoring it for now. He had gotten the anger part of this act right, but now he
had to pull off caring, affection even for the fire bird and it had to be
perfect. He reached out to gently stroke the fire bird. “Is there anything I
can do to help?”
       It was Dumbledore who answered. “I believe Fawkes would be grateful if
you could feed him some energy,” the ancient wizard said.
       Harry frowned for a moment before he understood what was being asked.
Energy transfer was not common for wizards but Dumbledore had explained the
theory once. With a slight smile he relaxed, allowing his animagus form to come
forth, completely forgetting that the last time his wings had appeared they
were ebony.
       Blindingly white feathers seemed to fill the room and deep in his mind
the Shadows sighed in sheer contentment. Between the night just passed and
this, their appetite was more than satisfied. :Wing colour is a matter of
intent,: they murmured drowsily. :They are white now, because no matter your
feelings towards Fawkes, your intent is pure and is for the greater benefit of
life. They were black last night because your intent was death. You wanted to
kill and you had killed and your power reflected that. You will have to learn
to control your resolve Master, such that even when you intend death, you can
call forth white feathers.:
       Inwardly Harry frowned before he dismissed the Shadows’ words for the
moment. He would have to consider them later to determine their real meaning
because for the moment, Fawkes was waiting.
       He let light gather in his hands. It was different from the light he
feed to the Shadows. It shared certain similarities, it was soft and gentle but
this was laden with magical energy. The Shadows didn’t need that. Slowly Harry
held the light out to Fawkes. The phoenix cried and with the Potion Master’s
help lifted his head and opened his beak. Harry twirled one finger and the
light spun into a thin thread that then feed itself to the phoenix. He summoned
another thread of light and had it wrap around the worst of the phoenix’s
injuries.
       Fawkes hummed but it was a pleased and almost restful sound. :I will not
be taken by surprise again,: the fire bird’s voice was firm. As they watched,
Fawkes fell asleep, his laboured breathing evening out as his body relaxed.
       “I will make sure they all obey me,” Harry confirmed, his wings
whispering softly as he moved slightly.
       Dumbledore nodded. “Are you feeling better?” he asked, his eyes
twinkling.
       “Much better, thank you,” Harry said.
       “Would you please retract your wings, Mr. Potter?” the question was
uttered in clipped tones.
       “Oops,” Wings rustled and his feathers shifted against each other before
he retracted them.
       :That is interesting,: the Shadows said suddenly. If they were human
Harry would have said they were examining something minutely. :He appears to
have made a decision,: they continued after a moment.
       :Who has?: the question was silent.
       :Snape,: they almost laughed. :We will talk later,: the Shadows added
when both Dumbledore and Severus looked towards Harry expectantly.
       Harry looked to the floor. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Last night...
Last night was just too much.”
       “What triggered it?” Snape asked, showing far more perception than the
Headmaster who would have probably left Harry’s explanation as it was.
       Green eyes squeezed shut and tears gathered. “Someone... someone
apologised.”
       That brought frowns to both of the wizards’ faces. What was bad about
someone apologising?
       “Harry you should tell us,” Dumbledore said finally.
       “And what good would that do?” Harry challenged. “If I tell you who, I
give it approximately two hours at the most before Professor Snape is summoned
and instructed to bring them.”
       “Then you have to forgive them,” the old wizard concluded, already
knowing he was going to get nowhere with his previous line of reasoning.
       “No, I don’t!” Harry resisted the urge to look at Snape when the man
started. Did he look like his mother or did he look like his father with his
insistence? What had the man seen to make him flinch like that? “I don’t have
to forgive them for raping me, I don’t have to forgive them for anything. But I
do not have to serve them up to the Dark Lord. You know who did it; he already
saw to that when he gave them those gifts. You’ve just chosen not to act about
it. But no matter how much pain they gave me, I do not want to see them in my
dreams.”
       “You are correct Harry, I do know exactly who it was but you must
understand I can’t do anything until you are ready to identify them formally.”
       “And then what? Headmaster,” Harry almost seemed to beg, “We reviewed
the laws together. For one of them, there was no crime and for the other, it’s
barely seen as a crime because supposedly a woman can’t rape a man.” The black
haired boy shook his head. “No, I’ll keep them safe until the Dark Lord is
dealt with, because I do not want to see him torturing them in my dreams but do
not expect me to forgive them, and do not expect me to have to welcome their
presence close to me.”
       Surprisingly it was Snape who spoke. “I’ll have a word with them,” he
said firmly and Harry jerked his head in agreement. If they stayed away then
things should be fine, until he was ready to deal with them.
       “Thank you, Professor,” he offered without prompting and was again
rewarded by a small gesture of surprise from Severus. Dumbledore smiled
affably, thinking that he and Snape were finally putting aside the past.
Internally Harry shook his head. In one way it might be considered good that
the Headmaster always tried to look for the best in people. Actually it was
good. But for those in a position of power, they could expect the best, but
they had to be able to deal with the worst. And on that, Dumbledore failed
utterly.
===
       Severus sat back in his favourite chair, a large glass of fire whiskey
in one hand. It was only mid-afternoon, but he needed it. The Shadows had been
oddly silent today. He hoped it was because they realised he would not follow
them but he was not that naive. He could decide all he wanted to follow others,
but they were going to be like little children, nagging and whinging until he
had no choice but to give in, except he was not a weak willed parent.
       And they weren’t just nagging.
       No! He would not think that, no matter how true it was. They were not
just nagging, they were offering, they were bargaining and they were offering
everything he’d ever dreamed about.
       But they never mentioned the price.
       No, he had made his decision. The moment he had touched Fawkes today he
had made his decision. He’d been agonising over it for weeks, months, years
even but in the end it was shockingly simple.
       What did he want?
       Oh he wanted all the things the Shadows were offering but he wanted one
more thing and they had only implied that, they had not guaranteed it. He
wanted salvation. Only Fawkes could give him that. Only a phoenix could burn
away his sin. A phoenix was a pure creature of light in an active way, not like
the unicorns or others. Phoenixes actually fought, unicorns just existed.
Fawkes had driven back both the effects of the Dark Mark and the Shadows and in
addition to offering salvation, he offered peace. It would not be easy, the
fire bird never promised that, but it would be possible.
       And so in the final analysis of things, his choice had not been much of
a choice at all. Now, when the summons from the Dark Lord came, he would know
in his heart what information to give and what to hold back. He was expecting
one soon and was mildly surprised not be called for some action at Halloween
but that night had passed now and it appeared that the one he had thought would
give him salvation had forgone the usual attacks.
       It meant something but for all his intelligence he couldn’t work out
what. Severus was one of the honoured few who knew the patterns behind the Dark
Lord’s attacks. They may have seemed random to the Aurors but in the past, each
attack had been precise, each attack had been for some gain in the overall goal
of domination. It was surprising what the death of even a single witch or
wizard could do to intimidate some of the Wizengamot and not a few had paid the
ultimate price as either a warning or to keep their friends and relatives in
line. There were some random attacks carried out by Death Eaters but the Inner
Circle of the Dark Lord’s forces, they were far more disciplined and controlled
than most realised. The Serpent Lord was a formidable general, moving his
troops on a board only he could see towards a goal they had all shared. Today
though, Snape was not so foolish to believe himself still graced with the Dark
Lord’s favour.
       He had raised too many doubts. But he could fix that. It would take a
little time, it would take his usual guile but he was still the only Potion
Master in the service of the Dark Lord and that was part of the reason he was
still too valuable to kill. At least that was his reasoning. Nothing could be
proven against him either and he would make sure in the future that nothing
could ever be proven against him. He had in the past, he would do so again. It
should be easier this time too, knowing now which side he served truly.
       And yet... and yet when he had seen those blindingly white wings on
Harry Potter of all people he had felt doubt coil in his chest. What if the
phoenix wasn’t the right path... What if the phoenix wasn’t strong enough? And
what if the Shadows could offer him redemption in the form of their master?
       No! There was no way the boy would forgive him. No way the boy would
accept, much less try to understand. He might have her eyes and occasionally
her demeanour but he was far too much his father’s son. His insistence, his
arrogance! All of it without thought. All of it focused only on himself.
Perhaps in this case it was warranted. Severus was aware of what had happened
last year. He wasn’t meant to know, but he was also aware of some of what had
happened in the boy’s childhood. It was terrible. It was sickening but did it
give him the right to lash out, to do what he wanted without concern for
others? No. If anything it should have taught him better concern for others. It
hadn’t though, and it was probably too late to correct that oversight.
       The doubts that the boy’s animagus form raised were quickly forgotten.
No matter what the boy’s animagus form, no matter how much power that form had,
or how aligned with the light it was, behind it all was still Harry Potter. And
that was a flaw that could not be overcome. The boy could not forgive him,
could not use his power to absolve his crimes. Only the phoenix could.
       The Potion Master smiled to himself and sipped the fire whiskey. He was
a good deal more relaxed now than he had been. At least he was until he heard
it, a chuckle, a laugh that was almost beneath his hearing.
       :Do you really, honestly believe it is that simple, Severus?:
       He froze. That wasn’t possible. They couldn’t be here! Not in his
quarters. He had warded them so carefully, so completely against them! They had
never been able to enter before. Why were they here? How were they here?
       :We can go where we want. You know better than anyone that you cannot
just leave Severus. The Dark Lord won’t allow that. And you won’t have the
chance to make amends. You’ve already made one mistake he won’t tolerate so no
matter what you offer him, no matter that you are in a position to watch over
and spy on Harry, he has already made his decision.:
       Snape shook his head. The Shadows were wise at times, but on the Dark
Lord they didn’t seem to understand much of the way he operated. “No. If I had
of displeased him, then I would have already been summoned.” On their
predictions of his future with the Dark Lord they were easy to argue against.
       They laughed. :You can think that if you want but remember this when you
are screaming on that cold stone floor, when every muscle is cramping, your
bones ache and your blood is boiling in your veins, remember this when your
saviour phoenix has rejected you, we will still heed your call. We will still
come for you and our offer stands. We will give you your dreams. We cannot
guarantee redemption any more than the phoenix can but we can give you the
chance to seek it far better than he can. We are everything you have ever
wanted Severus. That has not changed. That will not change.
       :We are the only ones who can show you the future, Severus. All you need
to do is say ‘yes’.:
===
       After Harry had left the Headmaster and Snape he had almost naturally
been pulled in by his friends. They could hardly not have noticed his absence
and they wanted an explanation. He didn’t want to lie so he was deliberately
vague and whispered something about a task he had had to complete. Ginny
obviously had figured out more, but she was easily subdued by a quiet smile and
a chaste kiss on her forehead.
       It was while he was eating a small dinner that the absurdity of the
situation hit him and it was all he could do the fight back a laugh. The Dark
Lord hadn’t attacked because he had screwed him into exhaustion! He wondered
what both the Aurors and the Death Eaters would think if they knew the truth.
That was a Halloween he could get used to.
       Of course he had done other things. Harry looked down at his hands. He
could see his claws and see the blood on them but revulsion didn’t cause him to
choke and he couldn’t feel the bile rising in his throat as he had when he’d
first realised what he had done. His beloved’s explanations had helped and the
Shadows’ confirmation of the truth of the Dark Lord’s words had also helped but
Harry doubted he would ever have such a burning desire to kill again. He knew
he would have to kill again, but not like that. The next time would be most
likely be in combat and that would provide a different reason.
       Harry nodded to himself. When he had seen them there, when his anger had
been drowning him with its strength and even when his Beloved had been within
him, pounding him in exactly the right way to make him see stars of pleasure,
he had wanted nothing more than to kill those Muggles, to hear them scream and
moan and shudder in pain and to watch as the light faded from their eyes and
they knew that he was the cause of their deaths. He had desired to kill them
because as the Dark Lord had said, there was very little left that could be
done to cause them further pain.
       Perhaps it was because of Xeoaph that he had only desired the Muggles’
deaths, but with those who had attacked him last year he wanted so much more.
Millicent, Blaise and Draco... they had yet to begin to feel pain and while he
could picture the Dark Lord torturing them for months as he had the Muggles,
that image did not give him satisfaction, not like it did for the men of his
childhood. He had wanted the men to suffer and they had, and then his anger had
called for them to die, and they had. His was the hand that had spilled out
their life force. He wanted those Slytherins to suffer, but at least for now he
did not want them tortured and he did not want them to die. That felt too easy
for them. He wasn’t sure what he wanted for them yet, but he was very sure that
he had not forgiven them and he would never forgive them. But right now he
wanted nothing to change for them.
       Harry smiled as he realised at least a part of what he wanted for Draco
and the rest. He wanted them to see the end of the battle; he wanted them to
see his triumph. He wanted to look into Draco’s eyes and see the grey orbs know
defeat. And then, once they knew that he had won and they knew that there was
no possibility of escape for them, then he wanted them to suffer.
       “Harry, what are you thinking about?” Ginny’s question broke through his
reverie.
       He smiled at her. The youngest Weasley pretended to be worldly,
pretended that she accepted everything about him and while she knew the truth
better than everyone else, she did not truly accept it in her soul. She was so
naïve and even with the experience of the Chamber of Secrets, she didn’t
believe in the worst of men. If he had been the man he was meant to have been,
then yes he would have loved her without reserve, cherishing that innocence.
But he wasn’t and it was almost a chain around his neck. He’d tried to wake her
up, tried to drive her away, to spare her but she had made her choices, just as
he had made his and he didn’t think they would both live with them.
       “Just the future, Ginny,” he said softly, truthfully. “I’m just thinking
of the future.” She smiled at him, probably thinking that with the kiss he had
given her earlier, he was thinking about their future. It was almost painful to
see but there was nothing he could do about it now.
===
       Sirius blinked as he came awake suddenly. Before he was even awake
properly he was demanding answers. :How did it go?:
       :Not too bad,: the Shadows replied in that easy tone they usually
adopted. :He’s not injured, though the battle is not yet over,: they added
further explanation.
       The canine animagus sighed both in relief and frustration. Last night
had been the first full moon after Halloween and Remus was again fighting for
the position of Supreme Pack Leader of the Isles. He had been hoping that the
werewolf battle would be over this moon but the Shadows had just confirmed
otherwise. With a blue moon this month, perhaps he had been foolish to hope it
would be over when power clearly lay on that future night. He had faith in
Remus, but on a blue moon all werewolves would be that much more powerful.
       :And the more powerful the werewolf, the more power needed to fuel that
charm? That’s what you are thinking aren’t you?:
       Sirius couldn’t help but nod as he got up and began stirring his fire to
boil some water and put breakfast on.
       :That will not be an issue, our master’s charm is more than strong
enough to counter.:
       “But what about Remus?”
       The Shadows chuckled. :What makes one werewolf stronger, makes the
others stronger as well. Fenrir may think he has an advantage but the advantage
is more towards Remus. Fenrir’s animal instinct’s will be stronger, and while
he will be physically stronger he will be even less controlled and more prone
to instinct, While Remus will also gain strength, he’ll retain the logic to act
upon it. If he does it right, he may even find it easier to control the animal.
We don’t know yet but the fact that the battle will most likely end at the next
full moon is not a bad thing.:
       “It’s always so logical when you point out things,” Sirius grumbled,
waiting for the kettle to boil. “So can I reach the Veela today?” He asked
suddenly, determined to put Remus from his mind for a brief moment. He couldn’t
help his friend at the moment and the only thing he could do was hurry back.
       :We think so, though,: the Shadows paused and Sirius got the impression
that they were thinking about something. :Go to the Veela as our agent. We can
feel something close and you may need that anonymity.:
       Sirius frowned but nodded as he stood up and stretched properly. Now
that they had mentioned it, there was something in the air, something powerful
that was not just the oncoming chill of winter. He would be wary.
===
       Sirius was strangely glad of the Shadow’s presence. In the rush of being
free and of finding Harry and everything else that had happened, he’d forgotten
that it had been a very long time since he’d had sex. The mere presence of
Veela reminded his body of that quite forcibly. It was not that he was truly
attracted to any of them, the object of his affection was no doubt sleeping off
the effects of the full moon, but currently his body wasn’t listening to his
mind.
       However, rather than being completely insane and stupid in the presence
of the Veela, the Shadows were at least making sure he could keep control of
himself. It was amusing the Veela though. They could see his arousal which was
at odds with his Shadow imposed self-control.
       “So what are you here for, wizard,” one of the eldest Veela asked.
Despite being old and wrinkled there was still a luminosity about her that was
appealing. It was nowhere near as arousing as the younger Veela, but it was
perhaps all the more potent for its subtlety.
       Sirius retained enough control to laugh. It was nice that someone was
being so direct. “I’m here for the same reason most wizards are abroad. I come
seeking an alliance with the Veela.”
       “You come seeking bodies for your war,” the Veela who had spoken
objected directly.
       That wasn’t anything Sirius could counter. Regardless of who he was
representing this time - Shadows or Order - they both wanted the same thing.
They both needed fighters for this war and so would offer whatever it took.
       “You seek to entice us to fight with offers of rights that should be
ours anyway!”
       He was a little surprised at the vehemence he could hear. “Perhaps that
can be changed then,” he heard himself say. “I am not the one denying you your
rights but maybe I can begin to offer you some solutions?”
       “Oh... and who exactly is making the offer?” The voice was not that of
the old Veela and Sirius wasn’t the only one who turned in surprise at its
sharp surety.
       :That’s Kisha,: the Shadows said to Sirius, all trace of amused lilt in
their voice gone.
       “Elder Vampire Kisha,” Sirius said with a very slight bow. The lessons
of his childhood coming to the fore; when you did not know enough about the
situation but you had no choice but to talk, treat them as highly ranked,
flatter them and bluff. “I did not expect to see you here,” that bit at least
was completely honest.
       “And I never expected to meet you,” the elder vampire purred and
immediately Sirius was put on guard by the tone. “Though you appear to have me
at a bit of a know me, but while I know of you, I do not know you.”
       Around him Sirius ignored the way the Veela were quietly melting away.
The elder remained but all the others were leaving and he could feel that they
were not just retreating into their houses, but were going further, grabbing
immediate supplies and running as hard as they could. They could feel the fight
brewing.
       :She came to the Dark Lord saying that she would help him with Xeoaph.:
       :But..?: Sirius prompted as he stared at the elder vampire. Her form was
small but she was beautiful he conceded. It was not as seductively attractive
as the Veela but that was probably because she wasn’t exerting her presence.
While petite, she had the rounded curves of a woman and Sirius estimated she’d
been made into a vampire in her late teens or early twenties. Her skin was pale
which made the darkness of her hair all the more apparent. Dark lavender eyes
were examining him in return.
       :But you are more than intelligent enough to work out the
possibilities.:
       “We both...” Sirius paused, his eyes narrowing as he considered his
words. “Well... serve is far too strong a term but we both work for the same
side.”
       Kisha laughed. The sound was a bell like tinkle. “You do not work for
the Dark Lord any more than I do.”
       “Yet you, like me, agreed to help him.”
       “Oh, you are good,” the vampire said relaxing a little. Sirius was not
fooled and remained tensed.
       “I would appreciate it if you would fight elsewhere,” the elder Veela
woman said forcefully.
       Neither Sirius or Kisha so much as glanced in her direction and she
shivered, realising that restraint was too late now.
       “I never thought I’d be fighting one of the Shadows’ direct servants,”
Kisha said with a smile, her fangs gleaming as she flexed her fingers. “I hope
you don’t disappoint.”
       “And I never thought I’d be in a position where I would have to fight a
vampire of your...” Sirius hesitated. Kisha was female, and as such she
probably was sensitive about her age. Almost every female he had encountered
who was over twenty-five could be touchy about their age and Kisha was far
older than a mere twenty five. “Of your calibre,” Sirius said carefully after a
moment.
       “Say ‘age’, my dear. It’s much more honest,” Kisha laughed and without
so much as changing a hair on her expression, she attacked.
       Sirius ducked, and resisted the urge to swear. The vampire was fast! And
as a tiny trickle of blood ran down his forehead he realised exactly how sharp
her claws were.
       :Can’t she at least pretend we are on the same side? I thought she would
be better than this?: Sirius thought about the conversation he’d just had with
the vampire. She’d interrupted as he’d been making an offer, but before he’d
actually said who the offer was from. In hindsight, admitting that he knew who
she was already had probably not been a good idea, though he had never really
thought he would meet her. Xeoaph was a fairly established Vampire, the thought
that he still had a still livingMaster was not one that would sit well with
wizards.
       :She intends to kill you,: the Shadows offered the explanation. No need
to pretend anything if he was dead.
       As Sirius spun around, almost as if he was dancing, he was grateful for
the hours of recuperation he had forced on himself each day when he was
reasonably established following his escape from Azkaban. There was no way he
would have survived this if he hadn’t.
       :I can’t win this,: he said to the Shadows honestly as he ducked and
weaved, avoiding her attacks. The old Veela woman had vanished but frankly
Sirius didn’t care though he hoped she was safe.
       :We know,: they said, apparently unconcerned. :But she will think it odd
if you don’t land at least one blow. So close your eyes and let us guide you.:
       In the instant the canine animagus closed his eyes he felt the change in
the air. There was a tingle all over his skin, and he felt them feed into him.
This was different from the time he was talking to Remus, this felt more like
the time in the Atrium when they had fed him power. He felt so energetically
alive, and from the hiss he heard from Kisha, he had undoubtedly stepped up the
speed of his dodging.
       :We don’t feed anyone power you know,: the Shadows said as they moved
from defence to attack. The sudden change in his movement caught her off guard
and he felt his hand momentarily hit flesh before being drawn back quickly. :We
only enhance or guide what power you already possess.:
       “Now that’s more like it,” Kisha murmured and even though she’d stepped
back a few paces, Sirius knew she didn’t count the distance as anything that
was insurmountable. “I want you to know, this isn’t anything personal,” the
vampire said as she attacked again and Sirius, even with the Shadows’ help,
could feel his body straining. “As you so rightfully observed earlier we have
both agreed to help this Dark Lord and I will keep my word. I will help him
with my childe...”
       The vampire hissed as he pulled off a back breaking dodge that would
have been impossible without the Shadows.
       “I get it,” Sirius heard himself say. “You will help him but we aren’t
him and you never agreed to non-aggression against his allies.”
       “You are good,” the elder Vampire said with a smile and Sirius felt
Kisha release her restraints.
       :Shit!: He swore at the Shadows. :I gotta get out of here!:
       The Shadows replied by seeming to pour into him but Sirius knew that he
could not properly match the elder vampire. Xeoaph’s children were one thing.
Kisha was a minimum of two generations older and while Hogwarts never made much
study about Vampires, Sirius knew enough to know that the older they were, the
stronger they were. Potentially, Kisha was one of the strongest Vampires in the
world. He felt the Shadows gather around his hands and forearms. It was like
the power he had used on Xeoaph’s children to break them apart, but this was
somehow more pure, stronger. :You just need to hold her for a second, then
apparate,: the Shadows said and Sirius could hear a grim note of determination
in their voice.
       :Can Harry fight her?: It didn’t matter if he couldn’t match the elder
vampire, so long as Harry had a chance to fight back.
       :Yes, but he may have to go full form.:
       :Whatever that means! Just get me out of here!: Sirius caught Kisha’s
wrists in his hands as she swung towards him, the shock reverberating through
his upraised arms.
       An instant later the pressure lessened and he heard the ancient vampire
whimper in pain, but she was not like Xeoaph’s children. The dark power that
wrapped around her was not able to penetrate her skin and she was not one to
pull back merely because of pain. If anything her determination was stronger.
       “I am the Dark, and you are nothing more than a slave of lesser
creatures,” her lavender eyes sparked with power and despite the pain of the
Shadow power that was lashing at her, she exerted herself and Sirius was hard
pressed not to go to his knees.
       :Kick her away and apparate,: the Shadows instructed before he could be
brought low. The Head of the House of Black was only too happy to comply and
before he could really think about anything, he braced his left leg and lifted
his right, kicking between her legs. It didn’t have the same effect as it would
have had on a male but it was enough to break her grip and without further
conversation Sirius jumped backwards focusing his mind on Number 12 Grimuald
place and apparating, vanishing an instant before three blades of pure energy
passed through where his chest had been.
       “Dark take it!” Kisha’s scream was not ladylike but her quarry had
gotten away. Vampires had great speed and strength but Wizards had a few aces
of their own, though... a slow smile formed on her features. The Shadows had
run from her. True, it was not the Shadow Lord himself, but with the power that
wizard had wielded, they had to be someone reasonably conversant with the
Shadows... and if they had run... then perhaps their power wasn’t as absolute
as she had been lead to believe.
       As she swirled her own vampiric darkness around her, she didn’t miss the
eyes that watched from every shadow. Yes, she would help this Dark Lord with
her childe and then she would help her childe rip the heart out of the upstart
Shadows, who dared to believe that they were the dark.
===
       Ollivander looked down at the parchment. His penmanship was perfect but
even if this missive had been scrawled in a Muggle child’s crayon, the mere
fact he was writing would make his enquiry serious. He’d been working on it for
days, trying to find the right tone to make his question seem both important
and innocent as if it was merely idle curiosity. The last thing he needed at
the moment was others asking questions he could not answer.
       Mr. Riddle had been honest about how he had gotten that feather. The
Wand Maker could feel that much. No matter how good a liar the Dark Lord was,
and Ollivander knew that he had to be very proficient to have risen to his
current position, it was not enough against him. But Mr. Riddle’s honesty had
opened up other lines of enquiry.
       His initial tests had confirmed what he feared, that the feather had
indeed come from a tenshi. Working with the feather, combining it with wood,
dragon and snake blood and basilisk venom to make that wand he had learnt
something else. And it was that something else which was one of his worst
fears. The feather was not an heirloom, it was fresh. And it was from a
relatively young tenshi who was no doubt just discovering their powers, and
were ready and wanting to play in the human world. There was not even a whisper
of distress around the feather so whoever it was, they had not been coerced
into providing it; but whoever it was should not have provided that feather in
the first place.
       The Serpent Lord had said he got it off a wizard but no matter how hard
Ollivander meditated on that information, casting his mind over every witch and
wizard he had sold wands to for the last 150 years, he could not come up with
anyone of who would be attractive enough to his own kind that they would give a
feather. Of course that didn’t mean it couldn’t be a mainland wizard and that
was part of the reason the letter was written. Hopefully it would trigger the
watchers there to examine things. But Ollivander could feel it deep in his
bones that it was not a mainland wizard. It had been given to the Dark Lord by
someone from the Isles.
       Which meant it could be one of Ollivander’s worst nightmares; a boredom
gift. A feather that was given to someone specifically to see what type of
trouble could be stirred up. It was a risk but the Wand Maker was thankful that
it didn’t feel right for that. A boredom gift usually did not make trouble on
its own, unless it was blood or something like that. A feather was simply too
passive to really have an effect; the owner would need to be present to ferment
some discord. He was hoping that his letter would fix the issue. That the
Council would take the hint and ask around to find someone who was both young
enough and bored enough, who had given the feather to a random wizard who had
in turn given it to the Dark Lord as a token of favour. That would be the
easiest and simplest thing to deal with. They would chastise the young tenshi
and probably burn the feather from existence which would simply turn the wand
to ash. Ollivander would then make a discrete inquiry as to which wizard had
been gifted with the feather and he would decide if further action needed to be
taken then.
       That was the best outcome and the best scenario but the wand maker had
been watching for a long time and somehow, this time, he didn’t think it would
be that easy.
===
       Voldemort stood in a part of his stronghold most never dared to enter.
His robes were filthy but he didn’t care about the grime and muck that was
plastering their hems. He was more intent on soothing the basilisk before him.
The great serpent was making small hisses of pain and was trying not to move as
the Dark Lord cast a variety of healing charms at the scaled skin. This was one
case where being mostly impervious to charms was not an advantage but the
Serpent Lord had enough sheer raw power that he could push his charm through
the basilisk’s skin and casting in parseltongue helped.
       At length he finished and after re-sheathing his wand, the Dark Lord
sat, ignoring the small and not so small skeletons the littered the floor as he
scooped the basilisk’s head into his lap and stroked his crest, much like Harry
had done to Xaos.
       -Who? What?- The question was obvious but was hissed urgently, a promise
of pain in the words for those the answer would reveal.
       -Fawkes,- the newly healed basilisk hissed, eyes closed.
       There was a series of loud hisses from the rest of the room. Other
serpents were gathered there, and there was a fair portion of Xatarass’ family
present as well.
       -Why?- Voldemort had no love for the phoenix and he knew that the line
of Ximir had even less love for Dumbledore’s familiar, but he did not want his
basilisks hurt fighting the immortal fire bird.
       -Xir. I thought he knew where Xal, Xentor and Xuld were but he does not.
The phoenix knows nothing and cares for nothing but himself!-
       -Could he have killed the others?-
       Xeloc shook his head. -No, if he had, the bird would have taunted me. He
was genuinely surprised to be attacked.- The last was hissed with no small
pride. Xeloc had stalked Fawkes for days and the fire bird had not noticed
before he attacked. For a supposedly astute being, the phoenix was remarkably
self-absorbed. -I got a feather,- Xeloc added before coughing and almost
convulsing as he brought up the feather. Voldemort picked it up, uncaring of
the slime covering it. A feather from the phoenix had so many possibilities.
       -Fawkes is already being hunted,- Xatarass said, -but we will show no
mercy to those who hold our brethren. They will be found and those responsible
for Xir’s death will be hunted.- The words were a promise and the Serpent Lord
could feel the power behind them. By now, if Xuld and the others had been free,
they would have sent word, no matter where they were, so their continued
absence was the confirmation of foul play. The Shadows were looking, but they
had yet to find the missing Basilisks. They would, in time, he had no doubt of
that, but he worried of what might happen in the meantime.
       The wizarding world knew he had an affinity with serpents but with Harry
beginning to use his true power, it was time to show the wizarding sheep the
true power of Slytherin. They’d see his true cunning by the end of the year and
while victory was assured, it was time to show them how invasive serpents could
be, and when he wished it, how deadly their venom was. Against him, resistance
was futile.
===
       “Why won’t you let me on your team?”
       Dolohov tried to ignore Bellatrix as she paced around the room while he
endeavoured to plan out an attack. He resisted the urge to rub his temples as
she continued to rant. He was tempted just to give in to her but he knew that
he couldn’t. She wouldn’t understand and, while she was controlled, her
refinement left a lot to be desired. He wondered if he should just tell her
that? The old Bellatrix would have cringed and walked away. The new one thought
nothing of it and Dolohov genuinely wasn’t sure if he should point that out to
her.
       “You are planning two raids,” the witch said, gesturing towards the
table where there was parchment and various small objects laid out in
complicated patterns as the wizard had tried out difference scenarios. “Why
won’t you let me on one?”
       There was not even an instant where he considered telling her the truth
but Antonin realised he would have to tell her something.
       “Your abilities are not required on either of these assaults,” he said
finally, indicating the two sets of plans laid out before him. “Though,”
Antonin added with a speculative tone, “Your skills will probably be needed in
the aftermath of this one.” He kept pointing to the far simpler plan.
       Bellatrix slammed her hands on to the table, sending parchments flying
as she snarled. “Even I can see that that one is so routine it’s almost a
formality!”
       “Yet our Master bade me to oversee it personally,” Dolohov snapped back.
Bellatrix was right though. The plan was so routine that it was tricky for him
to concentrate on it, yet somehow he was. His Lord might expect him to fail on
the other battle plan but failure in this one, despite how easy it seemed, was
not an option. Dolohov had retreated into his thoughts so quickly that he
almost missed the witch’s muttered words but an inner prompting let him hear.
       “Lucius was right,” Bellatrix whispered to herself.
       For a moment Dolohov froze. ‘Lucius was right.’ The statement was so
absurd to him that he almost had no idea how it should be interpreted. But
interpret it he did and the instant the meaning filtered through to him,
Antonin started laughing.
       Bellatrix looked at suddenly manically laughing wizard in front of her
with distaste. While she had been recovering from Azkaban it had seemed as if
nothing had changed. Her Lord was still supremely powerful; he still attracted
and fascinated her. His followers still feared him and he still believed in the
ascendancy of power! She wanted to see the ascendency of pure bloods but she
had realised, many years back that blood without power was stupid. There were
other ways of dealing with Muggle borns to ensure they fitted in. That wasn’t
the issue.
       On the surface nothing had changed. She was beginning to see that the
changes were far more subtle than she had expected. It was in little things.
The way her Lord insisted that Harry Potter was his and his alone, the way that
he trusted some mysterious force that she had never seen and her Lord refused
to elaborate on. The way he was playing with that vampire! And the way her Lord
hadn’t even given a second thought to clearing an initiation ceremony for some
wizard who had appeared... at Halloween...
       Bellatrix frowned. She’d been mildly upset that there was to be no
traditional Halloween attack but she’d passed that off as the Death Eaters not
being quite ready yet... but what if her Lord had been expecting that wizard?
Who was that wizard? She hadn’t really cared about the ceremony, she had no
real part there but to watch, but the instant that small robed wizard had
arrived her Lord had cared for nothing more. Was he the power Lucius meant?
       “Bellatrix,” Dolohov said suddenly as he sobered. “We higher ranked
Death Eaters have little reason to trust each other. We want our Lord’s favour
but we care nothing for each other; but even if you never trust me again, you
should trust me on this: Lucius is wrong. He was an intelligent wizard, but on
our Lord betraying us, Lucius drew the wrong conclusion so completely that I am
left wondering if someone bewitched him. Sure some things have changed, but our
Lord’s power and our Lord’s desire and drive to conquer, those have only
changed to become stronger.”
       The witch didn’t even blink. “You know something,” she accused.
       “I know that our Lord has already won,” Antonin said simply but with
enough aplomb Bellatrix paused for a moment.
       “No,” she said slowly. “It’s something else,” she added coming around
the table to look directly at him. “Tell me!”
       “And have our Master Crucio me into oblivion? I think not. You want to
know who the wizard was that appeared at Halloween? You want to know exactly
what the Shadows are and why he considers them allies then ask our Master,
Bellatrix. He’ll tell you when he wants you to know, not before. Just like he
always has! But I will tell you one more thing Bellatrix. If you doubt him, you
will fail him, just like Lucius has.”
       For a moment Dolohov thought that Bellatrix would attack, she was
trembling so hard. But eventually she turned and he breathed a small sigh. “I
might,” Dolohov heard her whisper. “I just might.”
===
       It feels kind of stupid to be writing this in a journal when it’s the
Dark Forces and the Ministry who need to know it, but at the moment it’s all I
can think of. I don’t know how to warn either.
       Iavor looked down at his writing. It wasn’t the best beginning but it
would do. It had taken him a couple of weeks to get a journal and in the end he
hadn’t bought one, but had found one in the odds and ends that were in the
family attic. He didn’t feel right, just buying a note book. He wanted
something a bit ... well... better. He’d found this leather bound book when
visiting his Grandfather. It was old, or he thought it was old and the pages
were thick parchment but it was also magic and the pages shrunk themselves to
rice paper thinness when they weren’t being handled. The leather of the cover
also had a few nice security spells and Iavor had realised that he needed
security on this journal. While he wasn’t technically telling anyone anything,
it would be best if there were no causal readers. And so, after a bit of work,
he’d been able to get the locking spells on the cover to respond to his wand
alone and he’d managed to get a fading spell to take to the pages so that if
anyone did get the book open, the words would fade away. Combined with the fact
that he never intended to have the book leave its hiding place in his room, it
should be safe enough.
       He dipped his quill into the ink pot again and continued.
       The first thing that has to be said is that we can’t continue. There
have been too many deaths on both sides and the longer we wizards continue to
fight amongst ourselves, the more we weaken ourselves. We should be looking at
the real threats.
       The non-humans.
       They are developing far faster than they should.
       The Goblins especially... Foul, filthy brutes who want nothing more than
to repeat the bloodshed of the past. They hide it well, but you can see it if
you look beyond their accepted place... Why else would they have developed a
device that can trackanymagical signature?
       They’ve given it to the Ministry and the Ministry’s just seen the use
for it now. They think it’s great that they can track the Dark Lord... or that
they will be able to shortly. Don’t they see the real problem? Don’t they see
howdangerous that is?
       No, they don’t. I know they don’t. If they did they would never have
ordered so many. I don’t know exactly how many but if my assumptions about the
part numbers are correct then it’s hundreds of the things. I don’t know their
range but that doesn’t matter. Hundreds is still far too many and will leave no
place to hide.
       I don’t know how these devices work. I do know that they seem to be a
mix of potion and crystal. The potion is pretty simple, it just changes colour,
any four year old can mix that one up. The crystal though, that’s been etched
with runes. Acid etched, if the order forms are right, there seems to be
something to do with silver wire. Like I said, I don’t know how they work and
I’ve only ever seen one once, but it was enough.
       It has to be stopped. I just don’t know how.
 
 
***** Marking Time *****
Weapon
Chapter 31 Marking Time
       “Harry,” Luna said, so as to not startle the quiet young man who was
sitting in an alcove, basking in the soft November sun.
       Green eyes looked over at her and she returned the smile with one of her
own. Harry scooted over a little in the alcove, patting the cushioned stone
next to him in clear invitation.
       Luna sat next to him and for a few moments just enjoyed the sunlight. It
had taken her a little while to find Harry but once she’d seen him, the blonde
girl had understood why. It was serene in this part of the castle and after the
last few weeks, it was something that he needed. Today was a beautiful day and
most people were in classes so the corridor was deserted. Not that many people
came to this part of the castle, but it guaranteed a bit more privacy. The
clear light streamed in through the windows and Harry had found a place to sit
where he was bathed in that light without it being so bright as to make reading
difficult.
       In the few weeks since Halloween, Luna knew that Harry had been busy.
For the rest of them class went on as normal but for the young man, it had been
a rather stressful time. He’d been studying for his Mastery’s but he’d also
been called away more often than not to participate in some skirmish. She
probably wasn’t supposed to know but she’d seen the way he’d occasionally
tested a reach before he put his weight to the limb. Madam Promfrey and the
Auror healers were no doubt doing their best to heal not just Harry but
everyone who was fighting but there were limits to magic. The fact that Harry
was yet to reach his was testament to his strength.
       “What is he like?”
       Harry looked over at her sharply, green eyes showing light confusion.
“What’s who like?”
       “The Dark Lord. You wouldn’t have been fighting so much recently if you
weren’t fighting him.”
       Harry snorted. The derision was softened by his small smile. “I haven’t
managed to catch him in battle yet. He’s quick and it’s not that he’s
retreating; it’s just that generally we are too late to stop him, and all we
get to do is the clean-up.”
       Luna frowned. She knew all about truth in the media and how little the
Daily Prophet cared but everything she had seen and heard lately said that
Harry was fighting the Dark Lord. Yet she could not detect any hint of untruth
from the green-eyed wizard.
       “Ah,” Harry said in complete understanding. “I take it the Ministry, and
therefore your father as well has been reporting something more... grandiose
than the truth?”
       Luna nodded. She really shouldn’t be surprised and if she was honest, it
wasn’t her father’s fault. She wasn’t stupid. She knew what people thought of
The Quibbler and on some matters her father just took the information from the
Ministry. On other things, like Azkaban, he had an inside route but not on
everything.
       “Well then,” Luna was surprised at the depth of the sly smile that
graced Harry’s features. “How about I see to it that any paper willing to print
the truth can do so?”
       It took her a moment to realise what Harry was offering and when she
did, Luna blinked her pale eyes in surprise.
       “Once or twice a week, more if needed, we can arrange a time and you can
interview me. I’ll tell you what is really happening. There will be some things
I can’t tell you and there will be some things I won’t tell you and there may
even be some things I’ll want an oath of secrecy on before I tell you. You can
write it up as an article or send to your father to write up and that will be
that.”
       “Why?”
       “Because Luna, I agree with you. The truth should be out there. This
misconstruction of information by the Ministry is dangerous. They’ve admitted
that the Dark Lord is back, mostly because killing Fudge in the centre of the
Great Hall isn’t something that could be hidden and of course that little
attack last year... But they are still obscuring the truth.”
       “Will the Aurors object?”
       Harry chuckled. “Officially, there may be some objections. Unofficially,
you may find some corroborating witnesses. I think it annoys Madam Bones that
things are still being hidden. I won’t be telling you anything confidential so
there is nothing they can do about it.”
       Luna smiled and she felt a thrill of warmth pass through her with Harry
returned her smile again. He had secrets, she could tell that and there was
something screaming to her instincts that there was something he was hiding
which would change everything. That didn’t matter, though; he was a good
friend. “So... what’s he like?” She asked again. “You’ve faced him more than
anyone, except possibly Dumbledore; so what is he like?”
       Harry looked thoughtful, moving one hand to his face as he frowned
slightly. Luna was more pleased than she could say. He was taking her seriously
despite the oddity of the question. “He’s... Well,” Harry seemed to be at a bit
of a loss. “He’s not really like anyone or anything. The Death Eaters try to be
like him; they fail, though. They are really just poor imitations. If
anything... he’s almost like Dumbledore. Power wise, I mean.
       “I can feel him from a distance and so can everyone else. He just
radiates that much presence. And,” Harry gulped and Luna could see he was
looking into the distance, choosing his words with care. Even so, in the last
few seconds, she had learnt more about the Dark Lord than she had in years.
“Regardless of his goals, or how anyone feels, he is a good Commander. He’s got
some skills in organising, in persuading people that if he’d used them
differently, he would have made a very good Department Head in the Ministry or
even the Minister.”
       “You’ve got those skills too, Harry,” Luna reassured the young man
before her.
       “Perhaps, but I haven’t had the years to hone them. On the other hand,”
Harry looked up at her, a wry smile on his face and Luna felt her heart soar at
it. His words could be taken to mean that he was afraid but his tone, his
magic, it all felt confident and she was drawn into that. “I might be the one
who supposedly has to defeat him, but I won’t be alone. I have all my friends
to help so it will work out, somehow.”
       Unbeknownst to Luna, Harry could feel Fawkes listening and he felt the
phoenix tattoo of the Order rustle on his skin as he said the last. It was just
the kind of drivel Dumbledore wanted to hear. Luna might quote or paraphrase
him for The Quibbler, but no doubt Dumbledore and Fawkes had the transcript of
this little conversation in triplicate before them already.
       “I’ll help you all I can,” Luna heard herself say and after the words
left her mouth she almost gasped at her audacity. She meant it though; she
would help in every way that she could.
       “I know,” Harry replied, his eyes shining. “Thank you,” he added in a
whisper before looking down at his hands. They were trembling and gently Luna
reached out her smaller hands to stroke his. She wasn’t entirely certain what
was wrong, so this was the only comfort she could give him.
===
       Ginny looked up at Harry. He’d been so much calmer since Halloween that
she was almost convinced he was a different man. It made her happy to know that
Harry was recovering and she was ecstatic to spend today first flying and now
playing wizard chess with him, but it left her aching to know that she wasn’t
the one who had been able to help him.
       She didn’t know exactly what had happened at Halloween. She only knew
that he had vanished and the sense of him that she carried in her heart all the
time was suddenly distant. Since he’d been initiated into the Order of the
Phoenix, it was as if there was another barrier between them; something else
was hiding him from her. Based on some of the hints and cryptic words she had
overheard from her parents when they quietly discussed the Order of the
Phoenix, she thought it was Fawkes. The order was tied together by the phoenix
and it was more than just a symbol. The fire bird actually did something to
them. She had no idea what, but she knew it was true. So she hadn’t worried
when Harry had become a member. That barrier, that shield was there for his
protection and if she was one day initiated, as she was sure she would be, then
one day she would share that barrier.
       But while that barrier dulled her perception somewhat, it couldn’t hide
everything from her. She could feel and had felt Harry’s growing anger and on
the afternoon of Halloween she had felt that anger explode. It had come through
that barrier and their bond with no resistance and for a moment she too had
seen red before it had vanished, distance dulling the connection, and no matter
how hard she had tried she had not been able to feel anything. The barrier
caused by Fawkes was one thing, but this also felt as if Harry had been
blocking her.
       Like the rest, she had just waited then, going to the feast and
pretending to enjoy what was a surprisingly normal Halloween. In a way it had
been fun, especially as there were no Death Eater attacks, but it had been
nerve wracking as well. Most assumed Harry had been called away by the
Ministry. She knew better and that night she had slept fitfully, waking up
every hour to check if Harry had returned.
       He hadn’t and he didn’t. Not until mid-way through the next morning. It
had been all she could do to sit quietly in her seat in class. But she had
restrained herself and had only run to see him at lunch... only to catch him
with everyone else. Harry had just laughed at that and then he had been...
       Ginny smiled. Then he had been wonderful! He’d smiled at her, not the
fake smile but a real smile, soft and full of life and quiet emotion. And he’d
followed that by using his superior height to take her shoulders and kiss her
gently on the forehead. She’d melted inside and all her questions and fears had
fallen away as if they had never been there.
       She had gone to her afternoon classes in a haze of euphoria and even
later, when they were eating dinner, Harry was still attentive. He wasn’t
flashy or anything, he didn’t draw attention to himself but he did make her
feel like she was the only woman in the world for him. It was the little
things, the way his eyes softened when he looked at her, the purr in his voice,
and the slight relaxation of his shoulders. If she wasn’t looking she wouldn’t
see it, but she was looking, she always looked. She remembered; they’d only
exchanged a few words, but those words brought her hope.
       “Harry, what are you thinking about?” she asked, almost hesitant to
bring Harry out of that distracted air he was exuding.
       His smile broke her heart, in a good way. It was like a sunburst thought
the rain clouds, bright, warm and shining. He was quiet for a few moments more,
his eyes looking deep into her and Ginny was hard pressed not to shiver in
delight. Finally he drew breath and almost whispered to her. “Just the future,
Ginny, I’m just thinking of the future.”
       She returned his smile. She’d heard the truth in his words, the depth of
commitment. After everything that had happened, being pulled away for
Halloween, he still thought of her and of what they would do. She had her
doubts, they plagued her, dark and heavy and she chided herself. Harry had
given her a chance, and he had given himself a chance, and she needed to put
aside her doubts because it appeared Harry had embraced that chance and she
needed to embrace it with him.
       It didn’t matter that she didn’t understand everything. She understood
enough and she would be there for him.
       Always.
===
       The basilisks were asleep. Narcissa saw that immediately. She also saw
the way they were twined around each other. The two smaller ones were almost
tied in a knot together and had wrapped themselves around the larger one which
lay partially over them. She hadn’t had much time to observe them but she could
see that they tried to protect each other and there were times late at night
when she swore she could hear their whispers to each other. She didn’t
understand them, despite her great power. The gift of Parseltongue was not hers
but she didn’t have to understand them to feel the tone, to know they sought
comfort with each other. They might be related. She didn’t know and she had no
real way of finding out. Not that it mattered. She kept them still for the
worth they may yet bring and because they were basilisks. If Draco and she had
to attack, then there were potions they could make, protections they could
weave from these basilisks. But those protections were best created with fresh
killed serpents so these ones would remain alive until then.
       There were rumours that the Serpent Lord was looking for several
basilisks, but Narcissa had thought nothing of it. Looking down at the sleeping
serpents she wondered if there was any truth in those rumours? How did one tell
which serpents her former Lord sought? Was the itch on her arm an indication
that these were the great serpents he sought or merely the result of her
avoidance of slavery? And if they were, what would he give for them?
       They didn’t look like much. They all had crests, a red feathery tuft
that swept back on the top of their heads. And they all had a regal patterning
to their scales, the colours gleamed in the soft light and the iridescence
created tiny shifting rainbows on each scale as the serpents moved restlessly.
Were they..?
       No!
       She shook her head savagely. She would not deal. She would not
capitulate to the darkness.
       Resolutely she turned away from the serpents, closing the door on their
cell before she walked back up from the dungeons, needing to be in what little
sun there was today. Draco had written. His words had echoed her feelings.
       She had expected some troubles gathering support. Lucius had been fairly
thorough in his sweep through the ranks but she had not been expecting the
outright apathy and hostility that they had encountered. Draco had spoken of
the students, of his peers whom he had been trying to recruit. They were not
responding the way they had for ... decades. In the past it had not mattered.
If you were the strongest, then you were the one who was followed! What had
changed?
       No matter how strong the Serpent Lord was, he could not compete with
their heritage. He was strong, no one denied that, but in terms of power, he
would fall short of them. Was it something else? Intelligence? Wealth? Narcissa
raised her face to the sunlight, sending her senses into the surrounding area
to check for watchers before she let her wings come forth, fanning them out to
catch every ray of sunshine that she could. The thin November warmth felt good
despite the definite chill in the air.
       It could not be wealth. Or if the reason others were so enamoured of the
Serpent Lord was wealth, they would soon be disappointed. In concert with the
Ministry, the Goblins had finally managed to lock the vaults of convicted Death
Eaters. Those who had been in Azkaban could not access their money. Any
dependents were being given a stipend but the majority of the money was stuck
deep in the ground in Gringotts. The Ministry hadn’t been so stupid as to allow
the Goblins to seize the vaults, but they almost might have. She was not so
encumbered. The Malfoy Vaults were open to her at any time and Lucius had been
an astute businessman. Their income was still assured.
       Was it intelligence? No, it couldn’t be. That would be attracting some
but it could not explain the continued loyalty of the Death Eaters freed from
Azkaban.
       Narcissa closed her eyes as she looked up towards the sun feeling the
sun on her face. It usually calmed her but today it did nothing. She could not
believe that nothing was working out. Why were the sheep being so loyal? Had he
really brainwashed them that badly?
       No... Maybe... Some were brainwashed. There was nothing she could do
about them... the others... The others were just used to following so they were
going on the familiar path. They would have to teach them, lead them slowly to
see the truth. It was merely a difficult time at the moment; in the long run,
their power would win out. And if worse came to worse, she could always show
the Serpent Lord her true power. It would not be optimal but it was one
solution. She could fight Voldemort and win, though it would be best if the
battle was private. It would take longer to gain control; they would have to
wage a shadow campaign after the Dark Lord disappeared...
       She opened her eyes to the sun, looking directly into its light as
Narcissa thought. She’d initially rejected it as a plan but that was before she
realised how difficult it would be wooing others to her side. They would come
in time, but it was time she and her son may not have... If she was to
assassinate the Dark Lord what would that do...? She had the power and the
ability though the strike would have to be careful... But would it be for the
best?
       The light would feel secure, though they would be curious as to whom or
what had destroyed the Dark Lord. That was a natural reaction and one she could
utilise. Though what would the Death Eaters think? Some would wait for him.
Others would despair but would others turn towards her?
       Not initially, Narcissa decided. But if she offered them a new power,
offered them hope then slowly they would come to her and Draco. The real
question would be if they could keep everything controlled in that time. That
time when they had no real followers and the Light would be confident. Would it
be too much of a risk? Was it even a risk? She could control it.
       The Dark Mark on her arm throbbed and Narcissa hissed, looking down at
it. The serpent tongue seemed to move and not for the first time she wished she
could claw it off her skin. She had been young and stupid when she had accepted
but as she glared at it, as if daring the Serpent Lord to track her through it,
she realised that it was also the perfect solution. It was a tracker, a
communicator and she was sure, with a little bit of work, she could make it
into a controlling mark. It would not be the Dark Mark, though Narcissa
narrowed her eyes as she forced herself to examine it.
       It was crude; a deviation on the protean charm but it did the job. She
looked down into the layers of the magic. She could do better... she would do
better. The mark was considered an honour but it was also a hindrance. It had
to be hidden. If she was to make a mark it would need to function better - hide
itself, provide better communication than mere temperature fluctuations and
provide her and Draco with the ability to control anyone bearing their mark.
       Resolutely Narcissa turned away from the sun and went back into the
house. She needed the knowledge the Malfoy library contained if she was to do
this. It was not her preferred plan but she had to be prepared for every
scenario, be prepared to take every opportunity. Draco was destined to rule but
she well knew that sometimes, you would only get one chance to embrace destiny
and no matter which path fate intended them to take she would be ready. If it
was slow accumulation of power, she would be the spider pulling all the strings
on her web. If it was to assassinate the Serpent Lord and take power that way,
then she would bring the battle to him.
       She would not lose and she would not fail. Destiny would not accept
anything else.
===
       The Dark Lord looked down at the journal before him. He’d retired to his
study intending to catch up on his correspondence but had found the leather
bound book in the centre of his desk. He recognised it of course. He’d created
it and its partner a few weeks ago for the Shadows but he hadn’t expected to
see it again. He’d thought it was a trivial task they’d asked him to do, but it
with it sitting in the middle of his desk, the instruction to read was obvious.
       There were only a few entries which he read quickly. At first, he’d been
tempted to dismiss it as drivel, the writings of a weak wizard who had no
power. But as he’d read further he’d come to realise that while the wizard was
weak, they did see the problems. He also knew now that they were pureblood and
worked in at the Ministry. The wizard didn’t seem to have the normal pure blood
hang up about half-bloods and Muggle-borns but it was a little difficult to
completely conclude that as those issues had not come up in the wizard’s
writings. He was very young and lacked confidence.
       Young, opinionated, angry, confused, and uncertain.
       Voldemort smiled. Oh, he liked that. Those of his Inner Circle had
always been sure of the path and were not afraid of the consequences of their
actions. But some of his more loyal followers were those he had coaxed and
educated, those who had been uncertain but sympathetic to his cause. Once he
opened their eyes, once he showed them how their strength could be used, they
usually swore themselves to him without further thought.
       And the writer of this journal seemed ripe for the picking.
       But... there was probably a reason the Shadows had gone through such
subterfuge. :He’s not ready yet,: the Shadow’s whispered before he could ask. :
You can have him later.:
       Voldemort nodded and turned back to the journal. It was proving to be
quite a useful source of information once you read through the lament of
defeat. For example, he now knew the Goblins were directly responsible for the
Ministry detecting him at Diagon Alley. He had known it wasn’t just luck that
day and he had responded to the Ministry’s new ability by the simple expedient
of speed. All his forces timed their attacks and Voldemort knew that if he’d
remained longer at a few of those attacks he had been personally present at, he
would have been able to see Harry in action. But that was something that could
not come to be quite this early so his forces had retreated, attacking and
vanishing.
       Now though he knew that that would not be enough. The description of the
Goblin-made devices suggested several ways of neutralisation. Contaminating the
potion for example would do nicely, as would modifying the rune etching. Unless
the Ministry wanted to shield and ward each device, rendering them ineffective
it should be easy. He had already assigned several Death Eaters to the task of
acquiring samples of the devices and then to their mass destruction. The
absolute confirmation of the Goblins’ choice had led to a moment of rage for
the Dark Lord but it was a moment that had been quashed by glee. He did not yet
know how he would destroy the Goblins, but they had signed their execution
warrant themselves. He would see them dead.
       After skimming over the last entry, the Dark Lord put the journal safely
in one of the desk draws, before he pulled out several sheets of parchment. No
matter the new information source, he did have letters to write... and he
should call in a few of his followers who worked in the Ministry. Perhaps they
would know who the writer was and could look out for him, discretely of course.
       :We will try to ensure you don’t kill him by accident,: the Shadows
murmured.
       “Oh, you are interested in this wizard?”
       :No,: they replied and Voldemort could hear the amusement in their tone.
For them, this wizard was simply a diversion. :He’d faint if he met you now;
he’d probably die if he could conceive of us. We saw the opportunity he
represented and acted on it, nothing more.:
       “Well,” Voldemort mused as he began writing. “Ensuring that he does not
die accidentally is the least we can do then. Unknowing little information
drones like this one can’t be easy to come by.”
       The Shadows laughed before they faded, leaving the Serpent Lord to his
correspondence.
===
       “Where were you?” Blaise hissed, dragging Millicent into a disused
classroom.
       She squealed but quickly calmed when she recognised the voice. “Where
was I when?”
       Blaise looked disbelieving. “At Halloween!” He said in a long suffering
tone.
       Understanding flashed across her face. “I don’t know,” Millicent said
truthfully as she sat down on one of the desks. “It doesn’t matter though.
Magstine is safe.” She was not a beautiful girl, she knew that. Her father
would have said heavy boned but she was more honest with herself. She was
overweight and unattractive, but in that moment she showed such serenity that
Blaise was surprised.
       “He accepted your apology?” There was no hiding his genuine interest.
       Millicent snorted and the moment was over, “Of course not.” Somewhere,
deep in her soul she had known it was a hopeless cause even before she
apologised but she had been driven to try something, anything to protect her
sister.
       “How can you be sure then?”
       Millicent looked at Blaise, really looked. In the past few months he’d
seemed calm and controlled but she could see now his rising fear. He was well
presented, he always was but around the edges Blaise looked a bit frayed. His
perfectly plucked eyebrows were no longer razer edged and his clear nail polish
was chipped. Superficially he was composed as always but he was waiting for the
axe to fall. “We are Slytherin,” Millicent began, feeling obligated to answer
his question as well as she possibly could. “We wait to take revenge and if we
can’t strike at them because they are too powerful or out of our reach, we will
strike at something they hold dear. I know Magstine is safe, Zabini because I
have never been out of his reach.”
       “That’s not possible!”
       She smiled gently. “It is. We should have thought about Draco’s request
further. We assaulted The-Boy-Who-Lived, the only person known to have survived
an Adava Kedrava. Why the hell did we believe we could do what others could
not?”
       “We weren’t meant to kill him.”
       “No, we were meant to do far worse against someone so powerful we can’t
even begin to see his power. If it was such an easy job, why didn’t Draco do it
himself?”
       Blaise nodded though his agreement was reluctant.
       “Blaise,” Millicent said softly and there was a note in her voice that
he had to listen to. “Make peace with yourself and live as best you can. What
will happen, will happen, and neither of us had the power to do anything to
stop it. The best we can do is be accepting and to be true to who we are.
       “If he’s going to kill us, he will do it. If he’s going to torture us,
again, he will do it and we can’t stop him. And if he wants to forget the
entire thing happened, then that’s what he will do.”
       “You make it sound like we should just give up,” the young man accused.
       “Not give up,” Millicent said. “Giving up implies that we have a chance
to fight. We don’t Blaise and the sooner you realise that, the better off you
will be. We have no chance to fight him off. We have no chance to persuade him
and I honestly don’t think anyone could stop him, not Draco, not Dumbledore,
not even the Dark Lord. It doesn’t matter that Draco asked us to do it, in the
end we did it, Blaise, and we will have to take responsibility for that.” She
slipped off the desk and moved to the door.
       “Make peace with yourself,” she said before opening the door. “That way,
no matter what happens, there will be no regrets.” She slipped out of the door,
leaving Blaise alone in the class room, staring at the closed door.
===
       Harry swooped lazily through the air. The game, Gryffindor’s first
Quidditch game of the year, was going about as well as he expected and while
they weren’t leading, they were keeping in touch. Against Ravenclaw’s team, the
newness of Gryffindor’s showed. He’d trained them as much as he could but there
were little flaws in the way his Chasers worked together and those flaws were
enough for the more experienced Ravenclaw team to take advantage of. Still,
when he caught the Snitch, that would give them victory.
       He smiled. There had been a small protest at his playing Seeker but it
had been dealt with rather efficiently. It should have been anticipated that
someone would have objected to him and he would have thought it would have been
the Slytherins, but instead it was some rule happy Ravenclaw who had raised the
protest. Harry’s N.E.W.T.s had been awarded, so technically he had graduated
from Hogwarts. And if he graduated, then he couldn’t be playing on team. There
had been no malice with the protest, Harry had sensed that, but there had been
a bit of a desire to remove the best Seeker on any team. Harry had been angry
before he recognised it as just school level competition. Nothing more and once
he’d recognised that, he’d been able to smile and laugh and point out that
while he may have been awarded his N.E.W.T.s, he had not yet graduated from
Hogwarts and was enrolled as a Sixth Year student engaged in Mastery Studies.
Once the fact he was still enrolled was confirmed the Ravenclaws had rather
shamefacedly dropped the protest.
       Of course, now that they were playing and leading the third game of the
Quidditch Season, they probably thought that their protest had been
unnecessary. Harry chuckled to himself, protest or not, he fully intended to
win this game. But he wanted his new team to get as much practice in a real
situation as they could, so he was also letting the game extend as much as
possible.
       He hadn’t used any power to find the snitch but he could still feel that
it was down near the crowds, probably hiding close to the grass. It didn’t
matter. Harry wove backwards and forwards, ignoring the way Cho followed him.
She probably figured he’d see the Snitch first... which was true but how she
thought she could out manoeuvre him for it was something else. Eh, that was her
problem.
       It was a nice enough day to fly. The sky was overcast but there was no
smell of rain so the air was crisp and clean and cool on the skin. Flying on
his broom was good but it wasn’t as good as the feeing he got when he could use
his animagus form. Harry shook his head before he could follow that thought
through to conclusion. It just left him aching and besides, none of that was
the point for now.
       When he had visited his beloved at Halloween, apart from making love and
him killing the Muggles and healing up the last damage of a nasty little cut to
his beloved’s ribs, they had discussed quite a few things but Lord Voldemort
had also given him a few things; a wand, some blood, and peace. He smiled. He
was obviously in a poetic mood to think of the last as something that could be
given, even if it was true. His beloved had been patient all year, last year,
and had waited until Harry was ready. He’d kept the Muggles for him. He’d known
all along what Harry would eventually need and he’d been patient until Harry
himself was ready. For a man who usually took what he wanted when he wanted, he
had been remarkably tolerant. And by the very actions taken, the deaths and the
blood and the whole hearted understanding and soft love and acceptance, Harry’s
heart had taken a measure of peace.
       Which left the two other items to consider. The day after he’d returned,
he’d spent a long time looking at the wand. It was not for him. He’d known that
immediately, though he’d also sensed his feather in it, along with the dragon
blood and the whisper of serpents’. Voldemort had briefly shared his mind with
Harry to show his lover how the wand had been created but Harry didn’t have any
further idea what it should be used for. He shared Voldemort’s belief though
that it would be necessary. Oh well, he would find the one the wand chose and
then they would have a better idea of why it was necessary.
       And if anything, the blood was a bit more of a mystery. :We will tell
you when it’s needed,: the Shadows said suddenly, their voice almost sleepy.
       :You could always tell me now,: Harry said with a soft smile and the
merest pulse of power for them.
       :And spoil the surprise? Don’t be silly,: they chided. :Just keep it
close to you.:
       Harry shook his head bemused. As much as he was curious, it was not
worth forcing them to answer, especially not when they seemed to be having fun.
He could play their little games every now and then.
       Speaking of games... :I think it’s time to end this match, don’t you?:
       The current score was 340-210 in Ravenclaw’s favour. His team had done
well, but they needed more practice. A loss would teach them that as well but a
loss went against his pride. Green eyes narrowed as Harry looked towards Cho.
She was hovering on his right side, a few metres up. “Are you ready?” He asked
casually.
       “What do you mean?” There was a note of confidence in her voice. With
the score what it was, it soon wouldn’t matter even if he caught the snitch and
she was feeling a small kernel of relief in her stomach. Playing against Harry
was never easy.
       “To catch the snitch,” Harry said with a smile.
       “I’m always ready,” Cho replied.
       “That’s good.” Without waiting for another answer or giving any further
warning Harry dived. It took a moment for Cho to realise he was serious and
with a shout she set off behind him, already knowing that she had been duped by
his easy conversation. Still until the snitch was captured, she had to try.
       In the end it wasn’t much of a competition and to those who had been
watching Harry all game, he pulled off the move with an almost inhuman grace,
flying through the air as if he had wings. He was beautiful and with a move
that skimmed preciously close to the ground but showed off Harry’s complete
control, he snatched the snitch out of the air before pulling his broom up to
swoop over the crowd, holding the snitch high in victory.
       A 340-360 score in their favour was not the most flattering of score
lines, but it was at least a victory. Harry hoped the team could see the lesson
though and would work harder on becoming a team, rather than individual players
because there was no way in HELL he was losing the next game, Slytherin versus
Gryffindor, even if they hadn’t learned the lesson.
===
       Draco ran one perfectly manicured nail down the page as he read. He’d
deliberately pushed aside his feelings or else every time he thought about why
he was stuck in the library, he saw red and it took precious time to calm down.
       That low down, scum, Gryffindork had dared to put a spell on him; the
Heir of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy. He had known something was
off, every moment of every day, he had known that there was something not quite
right. His subconscious had been screaming at him. Over summer, it had been
easy to ignore, with his Mother’s training and for the first bit of this school
year, when he had been trying to recruit, the small nub of disbelief had been
attributed to other factors. But all the time, his mind had been trying to tell
him that Harry Potter had dared to put a spell on him.
       So that’s how he had found himself, almost every spare moment in the
library, looking up methods of breaking spells. It would have been kinder to
oblivate him, but the slimy Gryffindor hadn’t even had the courage to do that.
No, instead he’d gone for something else. The instant he had realised there was
a charm on him, the exact knowledge of what was wrong had rushed into his head.
He remembered hitting the Gryffindork with an Avada Kedrava and he remembered
the little talk they had had near the end of last year.
       The arrogance of the boy astounded him and for a moment Draco had to
breathe deeply to calm down again. He remembered the whispered spell
‘Solmemorate,’ but he could not find any counter charm. What was perhaps more
worrying, was that he had yet to find the charm itself in any of the books
available. He’d tried writing to his mother, but he had been unable to actually
write anything. He’d persisted and had sent off the missive in the hope that
she would sense what was wrong and send back something which may help. As a
Sixth Year he had limited access to the Restricted Section but he still
couldn’t find the charm.
       The Gryffindork had definitely done something to get the results he had,
and now he was pouncing around supposedly studying his maters. It was enough to
make anyone want to scream! Didn’t anyone else see it? See the guile, the pure
animal cunning? Or did everyone just see their golden boy and were besotted
with the thought of a saviour? With the amount of progress he had been making
with recruiting, he was beginning to see that most people had wool stuffed
between their ears! And these were meant to be the future elite of the
wizarding world.
       Draco shuddered and continued looking through the books as he searched
for answers.
===
       Severus could remember Dolohov greeting him quite warmly, which should
have been his first warning. Antonin was the Dark Lord’s creature, and was the
Dark Lord’s creature so completely and devotedly that it was rumoured he had
executed his own daughter at Lord Voldemort’s command and that he had done it
without the slightest hesitation. Antonin was not warm to anyone.
       And he could remember them chatting almost amicably in a small Muggle-
looking establishment, which should have had his every sense of preservation
screaming at him. When would a ranking Death Eater like Dolohov be caught dead
in a Muggle establishment? Especially after having been freed from Azkaban.
Though that was part of the reason Snape had agreed to meet him there. All the
former prisoners had been lying very low, but Antonin had said they needed to
speak, and that request had been reinforced by a pulse from the Dark Mark. It
was not Dolohov who wanted speak but the Serpent Lord.
       But none of the warning signs had registered to the Potion Master and
he’d stupidly thought he was still in control, which was why he was now lying
on a very cold stone floor, his ears ringing so much he couldn’t hear, his head
spinning with vertigo and his vision so blurry as to be useless. And that said
nothing about the pain. Every nerve ending seemed to be on fire and the cold of
the stone was actually a blessing. The sections of skin that were in contact
with the stone were yearning for more and they felt good.
       The only thing he was grateful for was that the Shadows had yet to pipe
up, but he could imagine them and even though they couldn’t smile, he could see
their smug, knowing smile, and hear the phrase ‘We told you so’ whispered in
that soft gentle voice they sometimes used when they wanted to be their most
annoying. It was only a matter of time.
       There was another magical shift, and Snape judged that to be about the
fifth... or maybe it was the sixth... Darn it... he was so turned around he
couldn’t even keep track of the small stuff. The way he fell to the floor was
nothing special except that this time, the floor felt like stone but seemed a
smooth freezing red. And someone put their foot between his shoulder blades and
held him down. It really was unnecessary. He hadn’t planned on getting up.
Whoever they were, they felt like a mountain!
       On the whole it wasn’t the pain and the disorientation that scared
Severus. It was the silence. The red masked Death Eaters who had bound and
picked him up, after they had stunned him had been silent. Even Dolohov had
been quiet and they’d all moved as if they had practiced this many times
before. They probably had, Snape realised morosely. While many witches and
wizards had been killed to get a point across, others had simply vanished. The
team that had man-handled him through five or six magical transferences were
probably responsible for that and thus with the amount of practice they no
doubt had, they didn’t need to talk.
       As he slowly collected his thoughts, using his Occulemency skills to
literally force his mind into order, he became aware of the smell. The red icy
floor below him was the exact shade of air dried blood and as he was pushed
further down, the pressure in the centre of his back never letting up, the
Potion Master could tell that the smell, that cloying, coppery scent was coming
from the floor. It was not only the exact shade of blood there was a very good
possibility that it was blood. How was it being held frozen though? Even as his
mind asked the question, he ruthlessly shoved it aside. It really didn’t
matter.
       “Ah, Severus, so good of you to join us.”
       “I am your loyal servant,” Snape said as if there was absolutely nothing
wrong.
       It didn’t seem possible but the foot pressed down harder and the Potion
Master felt his ribs grate but he refused to cry out.
       “Now, now,” there was amusement in the Dark Lord’s chiding. “Severus has
given me years of service, so perhaps we should let him up.” It wasn’t a
suggestion and Snape felt hands grasp his arms and haul backwards until he was
almost hanging between the Death Eaters holding him. He didn’t even bother to
try to get his feet under him.
       From his new vantage, the scene he could see what about what he had
expected. The Lord Voldemort was seated in his throne, which was flanked by
Dementors and had several serpents coiled around it. He looked very regal, very
grand and that was just the physical impression. To magical senses he was even
more over powering and for a moment Snape’s eyes focused and he wished they
hadn’t. He knew the Dark Lord could see magic. He couldn’t, but he like most
wizards had some sensitivity and the Serpent Lord was not hiding his presence
at the moment. It was painful in its own way.
       “I do not understand, my Lord,” he forced himself to say. He knew what
was happening, but his mind forced him to try to find out why. His chances of
escape were nil, and Snape was surprised at himself that he didn’t feel
anything at that knowledge.
       A long fingered white hand snapped upwards, a scrap of paper held
loosely between two fingers. “Perhaps not,” Voldemort murmured with a half-
smile and a small gesture.
       Severus couldn’t fight as the Death Eater’s fixed manacles on his wrists
and ankles. He was still too weak.
       “You were my spy,” the Dark Lord said softly as he watched on. “You were
a very good spy, Severus, don’t ever doubt that. Your fellows doubted your
loyalty, I know you know that. They were always leery of your ability to play
both sides, but I always knew where your true loyalty was. I watched, and you
knew I watched, but I never doubted. You never openly proclaimed anything, you
were too clever for that and I know, even now, you are questioning, you are
calculating and you are trying to work out exactly where you made that misstep.
       “This!” He waved the paper again and Snape realised it was a clipping
from The Daily Prophet. “This is your mistake, Severus. Most would just look
upon it and see the names and think nothing more. In fact, that’s what most of
my followers thought. They saw the names they considered it nothing more than a
list of the wanted. I saw more. I saw your betrayal, your choice.”
       The Dark Lord’s voice took on a disappointed note, one of a father who
was reprimanding a son for failing a task that should have been within their
ability. “What have I not given you, Severus? What promise have I broken to
you?” His voice was soft, but Snape recognised the compulsion in the tone.
       The Potion Master sighed. “I have only ever asked you for one thing,” he
said quietly. “And on that you failed,” he added, ignoring the outrage he could
feel from the Death Eaters who had for the most part taken up positions against
the pillars.
       “You still mourn for her?”
       “Always.”
       The Dark Lord’s visage took on a considering aspect and the paper
fluttered to the floor as he touched his finger tips to his lips. “You know as
well as I do that she would never have allowed it.”
       Most of the Death Eaters listening were lost. They knew whatever their
Lord was discussing with his former Potion Master was of great importance, but
they had no sense of the events. The Dementors didn’t care. They were here for
effect and the serpents were calmly sleeping in the presence of Xatarass.
       “It doesn’t matter,” Snape said.
       “You are being remarkably accepting.”
       “You have made up your mind,” Severus stopped himself from putting an
honourific on the sentence.
       “Yet you are not protesting that I am mistaken.”
       Severus lowered his head to hide his rather self-depreciating smile. He
should be unmanned with fear, quivering or at least fighting the bonds and the
situation he found himself in. In the past, when he had pictured this
happening, he had always imagined he’d fight to the death but now that he was
in the position he’d feared for so long, he was collected and calm. It was
probably scaring some of the Death Eaters and for that Snape was almost amused.
He may not appear afraid, but Snape could feel, inside that he was screaming.
He knew full well the Dark Lord was at his most dangerous when he seemed calm.
Voldemort was currently amused by his posturing and that did not bode well for
him. Somehow, he had to anger the Dark Lord. That was his only hope for a quick
death. Placid acceptance would give amusement for so long but after that...?
       “You have made up your mind,” Snape repeated.
       There was no warning, no shifting or the meeting of eyes to announce the
attack but the Potion Master stiffened, clenching his body tense as Voldemort’s
mind ruthlessly reached towards his defences. The Dark Lord was a true master
Legilimens, eye contact helped, but he only needed a glimpse of their eyes when
he was familiar with the mind he was attacking.
       He wanted Severus broken. The attack was lightning fast and brutal. It
was stabbing motions like the thrusts of a sword into flesh, each one, if it
hit a vital point, was perfectly capable of killing. But the Serpent Lord
wasn’t interested in killing he was interested in causing pain, in striping
away the Potion Master’s defences so that he could see every thought.
       Severus already knew what the Dark Lord would find, given enough time.
He could hold out for a day, a week, a month, he wasn’t sure how long but in
the end, as galling as it was to admit, his mind would be laid bare and
everything he’d ever seen or done, felt or feared would be given up to a man
who would have no qualms about using any of the information. He could be
rebuilt and programmed, or more likely he would be made to scream, humiliated
and debased.
       “You always go about this in the most inefficient way.”
       Snape couldn’t stop a jerk of surprise at the feminine voice. The only
female voice he’d expected to hear in the Dark Lord’s stronghold was
Bellatrix’s deranged laugh. He couldn’t turn, but he knew with absolute
certainty that this was someone else... someone not human.
       “And there is a simpler way?” There was a hint of interest in
Voldemort’s voice but strangely not absolute agreement.
       A small hand danced over the Potion Master’s face from behind,
delicately stroking one cheek and under his chin before drawing back and
resting gently on his shoulder. “He would make such a yummy meal, and if I give
him just a tiny bit of blood, his mind will be mine.”
       “No.”
       Severus watched in interest as the serpents around the Dark Lord’s
throne reacted to the tone. Instantly they woke up, and their tongues began
sampling the air. There was the flash of yellow eyes and the rising of crests
as the Serpents began rearing upwards. It was most disconcerting to see the
Eyes of a Basilisk and to realise that you had then taken another breath... and
another. Eyelids, Snape berated himself as he forced his attention back to the
dialogue, ignoring the way another serpent, larger than the others reared up
from behind Voldemort’s throne.
       The woman, whoever she was, was not intimidated and just laughed. “I see
you are embracing your Serpentine aspects,” she commented in her musical voice.
“But you won’t accept what will make this so much easier. I can have every
secret he has exposed in under five minutes and you persist in doing this the
hard way.” There was, beneath the musical cadence of her voice, scorn but it
was well covered by a veneer of amusement.
       “I am not interested in his secrets,” Voldemort returned. “I already
know everything I need to and for this case, my dear, the hard way, as you put
it, is so much more pleasurable. I do not care about whatever twisted logic my
dear Potion Master has used to convince himself to betray me. It doesn’t
matter. All I care about is causing him pain. And I will cause him pain.”
       Snape knew he was the only one who heard it, the woman’s whispered
words. “And that is why you will lose,” before she smiled up at the Serpent
Lord as if nothing was wrong. Raising her voice she said the next as she walked
around Severus, her well-manicured fingernails morphing into short claws that
traced out a thin bloodline over his skin. “As you wish, my Lord Voldemort,”
she said easily, bringing one finger to her lips to taste the single drop of
blood there. “But it’s such a pity, he does taste so wonderful.”
       “My dear, forgive me, but my servants should be enamoured of me, I do
not need them enamoured of you.”
       Severus realised the woman had to be a vampire as she leaned back and
laughed and the part of his mind that was still working, despite the futility
realised that logically, there was only one vampire she could be. If The Order
had an agreement with a Vampire, and the Dark Lord had an agreement with a
Vampire, this was not going to end well.
      
      
***** That's Where He Is *****
Weapon
Chapter 32 That’s Where He Is
===
       Sirius had always been fascinated about the duality of time. It always
moved at the same rate but sometimes he seemed to rush through everything and
at other times it dragged as if the chains of hell weighed it down. He wondered
what today would bring. After he'd apparated away from the Vampire Elder, he'd
holed up for a few days to rest and then had sought out the Welsh Dragon
Handlers.
       The Welsh Green Dragon's weren't particularly big or known for their
aggression but their preserves were controlled by the Ministry so they would be
the fastest Dragons to bring to a battle. The Romanian Government could be
approached after it was shown that the idea was useable and didn't result in
the deaths of dragons. If any were killed, and Sirius was not so naive as to
believe that none would die, then the handlers would give everyone hell... But
they, the dragons, were the one thing no one had yet considered. Sirius knew
the eventual outcome of the war but he could not afford to be considered
anything but the staunch supporter of the Light.
       :You are a staunch supporter of the Light,: the shadows whispered
cheekily.
       The canine animgus snorted. It was true, but he doubted people would see
it that way.
       "So, what does a naïf like you want?" The gravelly voice broke into his
reverie. It was not friendly and in an instant Sirius read the man's leathery
face. They didn't see many people on the Dragon Preserve and those they did
could be broken into specific groups. Muggleborns and Halfbloods looking for
work in the Wizarding world and who could find nothing else, a few usually
poorer pure blood wizards who genuinely loved dragons and wanted to work with
them, some cheapskate tourists and occasionally a Ministry official. As the
Head of the Ancient and Noble House of Black, he was out of place, badly out of
place here and the wizard's voice screamed of his suspicion. Diplomacy called
for, especially if he wanted to get the Dragons into combat with the Handler's
not specifically targeting him.
       Sirius smiled, trying to appear friendly. "I wanted to discuss an idea
with you, before I took it to the Ministry."
       "And what crack pot scheme has your lordship come up with now?"
       Oh, there was history in that sentence and Sirius wondered if someone
else had suggested using dragons in combat before him. "By now, I'm sure the
Ministry has informed you, we are at war."
       "Aye, they did, not that it matters much to us. Our charges don't care
about such grand things as who's the Minister."
       "Sounds so much simpler," the Head of the House of Black laughed, a
short bark but it showed true amusement and for a moment the Dragon Handler was
offended, then he registered the words and a ghost of a smile traced its way
over his lips.
       "So what do you want?"
       "Unfortunately, it's about the war. A lot of it will be subterfuge and
small strikes by dedicated forces, but there will be at least some battles,
where every wand will count."
       "So you want us handlers to come?" The man seemed rather skeptical.
       "Are you going to tell me that anyone in the wizarding world can cast
stronger stunners than Dragon Handlers?"
       The man laughed. "That's true... But that's not really what you want, is
it, my lordship?" The sarcasm was back in force.
       "No, it's not. In those battles where every wand will count, so too will
every creature, every power that can fight..."
       "No!"
       "No, what?"
       "No!" The man began hyperventilating. "You want to use the dragons to
fight your petty wars."
       "I don't want the dragons to fight in any wars, because I don't want any
wars but I can't hide from reality. And your charges may be what make the
difference."
       "No!"
       "Do you really think the Dark Lord will continue the arrangement as the
Ministry does? What do you think Dark Lord's use dragons for?" Sirius felt
slightly bad wording the question as he did. He was fairly sure that the
Serpent Lord would probably continue to preserve Dragons and other magical
creatures. He was against Muggles, not magical creatures, but there was also no
doubt that he would most likely increase experimentation in some areas, and
that would include dragons. Even Sirius could remember his potion class and
Slughorn's complaint that so many potions could be made better with Dragon
parts but they were so infernally rare that they were almost never used.
       "So you want us to throw our lot in and guarantee our charges die."
       "I want you to realise that if this war goes badly, then nothing will be
the same. I want you to realise that unless everyone and everything works
together, then we are all lost. The Dragon's may make a different, they may
not, but I will be dammed if we lose this war because we were afraid to try
everything we could."
       "But to use our dragons..."
       Sirius growled. The man was what he had expected. So over protective of
the beasts that he didn't, couldn't, see the opportunity they represented. The
Dragon Handler reminded him a bit of Hagrid. So protective, that he could not
believe that a dragon could be dangerous to others. But he had to see the
truth, and he had to know they were desperate. "Keep in mind I'm doing this as
a formality. Even if you don't agree, I will be bringing this up with the
Ministry and I can practically guarantee you, they will be willing to try, no
matter what objections you raise."
       "You bastard!"
       "I've been called worse." Sirius didn't care, but he was careful to
watch that the handler wasn't about to launch a jinx at him. The last thing he
needed now was to get into a duel.
       "You Lord types are all the same. You get an idea, you push it and
support it, but the moment it gets difficult you jump ship."
       "Is that what you think?"
       "That's what I know."
       Sirius narrowed his eyes slightly, assessing the Dragon Handler. "My
name is Sirius Black, the Head of the Ancient and Noble House of Black," he
began the introduction formally. "I am the only man to have ever escaped
Azkaban and I have now taken up arms in this war and let me assure you, sooner
or later, all wizards and witches are going to have to make a choice. This war
is not going to be like the others where people can sit on the side lines.
Everyone will have to make a choice and everyone will have to believe in their
choice. That is how this war will be. Even you, who have never been involved,
will have to fight and you can come either by your own volition, or kicking and
screaming when you are ordered.
       "This is not about anything else except giving us the best opportunity
to fight this war."
       "And what makes you think they can do anything?"
       "Your charges are big, strong, and magically resistant. They won't be
slaughtered, because they can't be slaughtered. I won't lie and say that it's
not a possibility; we both know there are charms that can hurt and even kill
dragons but also know that they take a ridiculous amount of power. It won't be
easy to have them in combat, I don't know exactly how to control them, but you
and your handlers do. No one is expecting a dragon to follow orders, but they
don't need to follow orders to destroy the dark forces.
       "Like it or not, they will make a difference."
       The man seemed to consider his words and Sirius could almost feel the
losing battle in the man's mind. The dragon handlers may be remotely located,
and they may not have the slightest interest in politics, but they knew how the
war was going and they knew what the defeat of the Ministry would bring. In the
end, they, like him, really had no choice.
       "Get out!" The order was sharp and the canine animagus was shocked at
the depth of pain in the Dragon Handler's voice.
       Sirius bowed his head slightly. "I thank you for the consideration," he
said as he let himself out of the little shelter and apparated. There was
little need for him to rub salt into the man's wounds. The Dragon Handlers
wouldn't appear immediately in battle, but they would be there. They knew what
was at stake and they knew now, what their choices were. Some might want to
remain, but the rest were good men and women, they would do the right thing.
They would take their precious charges into combat. They would give the dragons
the taste of human flesh, and they would allow the Dark Forces to kill some
dragons, because they, like all others had to fight.
       And most likely, none of them would ever forgive him.
===
       Narcissa had to remind herself that she really couldn't curse the man in
front of her... Except he wasn't a man. He was a beast, not worthy of the term
human and in normal times, even if she'd killed him, there wouldn't have been
consequences. But she, more than most, was aware of how abnormal these times
were. She was already under watch by the Aurors who had no doubt seen this
animal enter the manor. They would need to see him leave.
       "Look, I don't know what you want, but you have nothing you can offer my
kind."
       "I doubt that."
       "And what would you offer us? What can you offer us? Acceptance by the
Ministry? You know as well I as I do, that that isn't going to happen. Money,
wolfsbane potion? Sure, we'd like the money but I doubt we'd take a potion from
you since you aren't a Potion Master."
       "Enough! If you are so sure I can't offer you anything," Narcissa began
with a toss of her hair over one shoulder, "What do you want then? I find it so
much easier if I don't assume and you tell me."
       "What do we want?" The werewolf was hard pressed not to snort in
disgust. He wasn't sure what the Malfoy bitch had wanted when she'd asked via a
rather roundabout route to speak to a werewolf but they should have known that
she, like everyone else, needed someone to fight for them. And she wasn't even
as tactful as the other offers. The Dark Lord had made his usual offer, the
Ministry hadn't bothered but anyone who was astute from the Werewolves knew how
to take up what they could give you and then there had been that third offer
that seemed to be able to encompass everything. While he hadn't spoken to
anyone representing that third offer, he knew that quite a few of the Pack
Leaders had, and they believed it to be genuine, even if rather confusing.
Despite that though, that offer had been made with respect, and several
gestures of goodwill. Fighting for them might not be too bad. It would
definitely be better than fighting for some stuck up rich bitch who would
expect the world and blame them for everything that went wrong. He decided to
tell her exactly what the werewolves wanted. "We want nothing! We demand
equality from the Ministry. We demand the right to be treated as human, to
learn to use our Magic. We demand to be treated with respect.
       "We don't want wolfsbane potion. We don't want money, we don't want
anything like that. We don't need that. We need the rest."
       Naricssa sat back, once again running through a litany in her mind. The
sheer arrogance of the animal was astounding. She could remember something
similar once when she was a Death Eater. The results had been satisfactorily
messy as the Dark Lord did not tolerate such arrogance well. "Get out," she
said finally.
       The beast didn't even bother to salute as it let itself out.
       For long moments, the halfling focused merely on breathing as she sought
to calm herself down. So the werewolves wouldn't follow her. She should have
known that they would already have given their allegiance to someone. Even if
they hadn't, realistically she had nothing special to offer. The Dark Lord
could offer victims, new sacrifices to turn into werewolves, the Ministry
merely had to say they would enforce their laws and between those two that
would account for ninety five percent of the werewolves. The other five
probably just wanted to be left alone. So in the end, she had nothing really.
Being surprised, being insulted by this would not change anything.
       What was surprising was the general lack of respect she could feel. The
Malfoys were amongst the oldest and most powerful of the wizarding Houses.
Regardless of anything else, they were usually given at least a modicum of
respect. Maybe this is what Draco meant. She had known he wasn't finding it as
easy as he should have to gather his House to his side. The usual respect they
held for power and for those of ability seemed to be missing. It just made her
previous thoughts that they may have to strike differently all the more true.
       He'd written several times this year, and each time she'd written back
with words of advice and comfort. This last time, she hadn't bothered with any
comforting note, but wrapped and sent back a book as quickly as she could. His
letter this time had been weird, but she had read between the lines. He had
finally realised that he was under some sort of memory charm and needed further
information on how to remove it. It should be simple enough, even if a bit
painful so she wasn't concerned.
       What she needed to do now was think. The werewolves were definitely out.
The vampires were already fighting... There were not that many non-human groups
who were not already involved. The United Kingdom had a small population of
Veela but not enough to make that much of a difference. The merpeople would
remain in their own domain and the Dark Lord had already taken control of the
Dementors. Witches and Wizards were split between Ministry and the Dark Forces
and those who had felt some sympathy to her cause had been used by her husband.
The Tenshi probably didn't even know or care that there was a war going on, and
the rest of Europe was doing their best to ignore them. No, that wasn't right.
The rest of Europe was very interested in their war to the point they had
patrols and guards to ensure that no one launched strikes into their territory.
There was some support there, but it was mostly Ministry to Ministry.
       And that left a third party such as herself where she always thought
they were. Alone. Gathering support was going to be too slow. By the time they
had sufficient support to be able to attack openly, the Dark Lord would have
already toppled the Ministry. She was going to have to strike in private, and
leave the Ministry wondering how or who destroyed the Lord they had been unable
to defeat.
===
       Harry sat in Dumbledore's office. For the past few days, things had been
quiet. There hadn't been any attacks by Death Eaters, which usually meant they
were planning something big. Whatever it was he would be ready but he wasn't
sure why he had been called to the Headmaster's office today. Fawkes had
remained on his perch but seemed fretful. That more than anything said that
something was wrong. Usually the fire bird was calm and composed and wanted him
to stroke the red plumage. Harry had finally worked out why the bird sought him
out, and it wasn't because of his affinity for Light. Contact made for a far
less intrusive mind scan. The fact that Fawkes was not demanding cuddles today
either meant he was still angry about Halloween and the supposed shadow attack
or the Phoenix was beginning to trust him. The black haired young man hoped it
was the later.
       He waited while the Headmaster pottered around for a few minutes more
before eventually settling in his desk. "Lemon drop?" the offer was almost
perfunctory. He declined anyway and continued waiting.
       "Well, my lad, how are things?"
       "Very good," Harry replied honestly. Since Halloween things had been
better. He felt more relaxed and the few missions Auror Captain Sturges had
called him on had gone well. The Auror had not used his abilities as completely
as that first time but had instead had him work with his men and women,
learning how the Aurors usually worked. As the missions were mostly clean up in
the wake of an attack, there was little risk to anyone. The thought was that
the Dark Lord had determined that they had been able to track him at Diagon
Alley and he had responded in an unfortunately logical manner, by increasing
the speed and viciousness of his attacks, though their patterns were still
random. Unless they could anticipate an attack, then they would be on clean up
for a while yet.
       It did not do much for the Auror's already fatigued morale.
       "That's very good to hear."
       The Shadow Lord resisted the urge to roll his eyes. All of this was
information Dumbledore already knew. They had, after all, kept up their weekly
meetings and Harry had discussed all sorts of things with the Headmaster this
year; plans for destroying the Dark Lord, how his Mastery studies were going,
how he was to work with the Aurors and the Order, hedged questioning on his
mental state and his relationship with Ginny and his friends and how the
shadows worked. The Headmaster had also begun to show Harry some memories of a
young Tom Riddle and Harry was amazed at how little understanding the old
wizard had. Could the old man not see the pain? Did he not care? Always
afterwards Harry had shaken his head, astounded at the lack of foresight and
compassion in the supposed 'Leader of the Light'.
       "I called you here early because something has happened."
       "Oh?"
       "One of the Order has gone missing."
       "Professor Snape," Harry said with certainty.
       "How did you know?"
       He smiled and wondered if he was meant to hear the suspicion in the
ancient wizard's voice. Probably not, Harry decided, since Dumbledore's
expression showed nothing but grandfatherly concern. He was, if nothing else, a
superlative actor, just that Harry was better. Growing up as he had, he had had
to be. "Sir, my lesson in sword fighting was last night," Harry said gently.
"Professor Snape was not there, and a few inquiries showed that he hasn't been
teaching the last few days, so it's not a difficult assumption to make."
       Beneath the twinkling eyes, the suspicion faded as the Headmaster
realised that the simple explanation was the truth. "This wasn't planned,"
Dumbledore said finally. "When Professor Snape leaves for business, I allow a
few days in case Tom has any long term plans. That time is up, and Severus has
yet to notify me. I am concerned that he underestimated the danger he was in
and has been captured."
       Harry just nodded at the words.
       "You have been blocking the Dark Lord Harry and I commend you for that,
but I find myself having to ask if there has been any leakage of happiness from
him?"
       Harry shook his head. "No, but I've been blocking the link extensively."
Once it became clear that all Lord Voldemort's knowledge had been within his
mind, Harry had stopped holding back and had begun using what he could and that
included having to skip all the tedious lessons on Occlumency with Snape. He
had paid specific attention to the link to the Dark Lord and had made sure that
Fawkes knew he was building particularly thick walls around it. The phoenix,
and therefore Dumbledore, thought it was to avoid having Voldemort spy on him
and so that the Dark Lord's happiness did not cause him pain. They didn't even
dream it was so that he could keep a lid on his hormones, that if he was in
constant contact with his beloved, their entire plan would be for nothing.
After a moment of silence, green eyes looked up into the blue eyes of the
Headmaster. "I can take some of the shielding off and peek," he offered. It was
the type of thing he'd be expected to do.
       Fawkes trilled at him and Harry smiled. The song of the fire bird was
beautiful when he wished it and Harry waited for Dumbledore to reply.
       Eventually the old wizard sighed. "I think that would be best."
       "Okay, give me a moment," Harry said, squirming slightly as he settled
himself more comfortably. An Occlumency master would have just removed the
shielding and while he was capable of that, he was trying to show that he was
still adjusting. He was trying to show that he could use the information but
that it was not so much a part of him that he did it without thought. Green
eyes closed as Harry sent himself into a light trance and fell through the
layers of his mind. He felt Fawkes with him, the fire bird riding on his mental
shoulder as he descended into the part of his mind where he kept memories he
wasn't fond of. It was where he had stashed the mental manifestation of his
link to the Dark Lord, though Harry was working on a new place for it,
somewhere much nicer, it could not yet be revealed. Around him, in trunks and
chests that were covered in defensive runes were memories he didn't look at,
his childhood, all the men, Millicent and Blaise and a few others. It said a
lot about his life that he had more than one area like this, the memories
firstly ringed with defensive runes, some wrapped deep in other memories and
the entire area was surrounded by his magic for light, warmth and comfort. And
these were just the memories the Fire Bird was allowed to see, memories that
the Fire Bird knew existed. He had other places, wrapped behind the curtain of
darkness where his true self resided where he kept the memories of his beloved,
of the feeling of his claws cutting into the muggles and of how it felt to
watch them die. Xaos was hidden there, closely guarding quite a few memories
and the knowledge that he was loved absolutely. When this year was up, Harry
fully intended to shift his mental landscape around so that each memory of the
muggle paedophiles would be paired with the memory of their death and with the
feeling of his own satisfaction and the Dark Lord's approval. Unknowingly Harry
smiled. That made for a nice thought, though he did wonder idly, how much more
crowded his mental landscape could get.
       Carefully he exposed the mental manifestation of his link to the Dark
Lord and he brought it to the surface of his mind. Fawkes watched the entire
time, never moving from his spot as Harry unravelled the defensive runes before
he unfastened the mental buckles on the leather straps that held the chest
closed. The chest was not locked. He'd been warned about that and knew better
than to completely lock away memories. They came back later at the most
inconvenient time, but securing them was allowed, hence the travelling straps
on the trunk. He glanced towards Fawkes and the fire bird nodded before Harry
slowly lifted the lid.
       For a moment nothing happened, then with a burst of light Harry found
himself looking at unfamiliar surroundings. He was looking down into a large
room. There were stone columns lining it and the floor was red and appeared
smooth. It was cold and lying very still on the floor was a familiar man in
tattered robes. His body was lying on his back, his head titled back to provide
the Dark Lord with eye contact. The Lord Voldemort was engrossed in the task at
hand and his concentration was impressive. Harry could see a few Death Eater's
but they were acting as guards and he knew there was a Dementor to the Dark
Lord's left. His vision wasn't quite right though. Everything living was
surrounded by a nimbus and things that weren't were dull. The Shadows up in the
rafters were a bottomless black but they were outlined in the thinnest line of
pure white and with a small start, Harry realised this is how his beloved saw
everything. His eyes, much like the rest of him, were no longer completely
human.
       Despite the shock he did nothing to give himself away, Harry was sure of
that, but in the Dark Lord's mind something changed. Fawkes squawked and Harry
sensed the fire bird retreating, before a wave of happiness washed over them
both. In Dumbledore's office, Harry felt his hands instinctively press over his
scar and Fawkes' retreat was halted.
       The Dark Lord definitely had Snape and he was incredibly happy about it
but under the happiness, Harry could sense something else, a deeper
contentment. He caught the image of Hogwarts but it was not quite as he knew it
and it took Harry a moment to realise what was wrong. There were no students on
the battlements, but Death Eaters. It didn't feel like a wish, it felt like a
plan and the implication was obvious. The Dark Lord was going to attack
Hogwarts and he fully expected to win.
       :I think you've seen enough,: there came a chiding voice that echoed
around him and with a feeling that was like a kick in the guts Harry found
himself and his passenger forcibly removed from the Dark Lord's mind. The link
between them slammed closed and dimly Harry could feel the Lord Voldemort
reinforcing his side.
       Green eyes snapped open and Harry gasped as he came back to himself.
Fawkes trilled though his voice was tinged with pain. After a few more
desperate breaths, Harry looked over towards Dumbledore where the old wizard
sat and watched. "He's definitely got Professor Snape," Harry said, wheezing
slightly and showing a rare moment of respect for the Potion Master. "But," the
black haired boy continued, gulping as he tried to calm down. "It also looks
like he plans to attack Hogwarts... soon. I don't know when but there was snow
on the ground." He remembered how beautiful Hogwarts had looked, draped in the
soft velvet of winters embrace.
       The Headmaster nodded and turned towards his familiar. Something seemed
to pass between them before twinkling blue eyes looked back towards their
weapon.
       "Thank you Harry. Are your Occlumency shields back in place?"
       "Yes," he said with certainty. Almost in the instant Voldemort had
thrown him out of his mind, Harry had been putting his shields back in place.
The brief touch was enough to throw his senses into disarray and there was a
burning need coiling, building in his abdomen. He wouldn't be returning to the
Dormitory tonight.
       "Then thank you for your service. I'll let you know what happens with
Professor Snape," the ancient wizard spoke in clear dismissal and Harry nodded
as he rose. He already had a fair idea what would be happening; nothing. There
was very little they could do to help the Potion Master, which is exactly what
the Shadow's had wanted.
       Severus would join them soon and that was just the beginning. Harry
smiled, looking back over his shoulder. It was only a matter of time now.
===
       Harry let himself out of Headmaster's office and quickly headed towards
the room he had been assigned. Fawkes was occupied, which was just as well,
because the brief touch of Voldemort's mind to his had sent his senses and his
hormones into over drive.
       He needed the Dark Lord, but he wasn't about to get him, not tonight and
unlike other nights where he could control his need, where his need came from
his own desire, this time it was because of their intimate contact. Dumbledore
had no idea what he had asked Harry to do, no idea of the consequences, though
truth be told, neither had Harry.
       With no one to witness his spell casting Harry didn't bother to draw the
yew wand as he sealed the room, casting more than a usual gamut of privacy
charms with one hand while his other went for his wand. He threw himself into
the chair as he rubbed himself through his robes. Already he was uncomfortably
tight and quickly he unbuckled his pants, pushing them down and scooping one
hand into his underwear to draw out his shaft.
       Harry groaned as he caressed himself, using one hand to cup and kneed
his balls while his other stroked up and down. He rubbed one thumb over the
head of his cock on each upward stroke. Five seconds of contact with his
Beloved, when they couldn't even express their affection had caused this. He
suppressed an almost agonised moan at the thought of what being able to immerse
himself in the Dark Lord's mind would do to him.
       He thrust his hips through little motions and Harry threw his head back,
licking his lips as he thought of his lover. His hands were warm but it was not
the same. This would give him release, but it was only physical release. It did
nothing for his emotional desire. Still physical release was all he could have
now. He closed his eyes, imagining red burning eyes upon him and a long
fingered white hand pinching his nipples. One of his own hands raised, sliding
its way under his shirt to tweak his nipples, first one then the other, making
them hard with blood. He breathed deeply, clenching his teeth as the tightness
in his body grew. His skin was on fire and Harry didn't even feel his claws
grow as he shredded his garments. He kept one hand on his cock, paying
particular attention to the head. He ran his fingers all over it, stroking,
teasing, tracing over the bulb before he raised his hand to his mouth, tasting
his pre-cum.
       It felt good but it was nothing. He was tight and hot but it was nothing
like the sensation he got when he lay with his beloved. This was a pale shadow
and Harry's top teeth gripped his lip, digging in but not drawing blood as both
hands stroked his erection. It was a pleasurable friction and built on his
desire. He imagined red eyes burning with lust, white skin flush and patterned
like a serpent's. He imagined the taste on his tongue and he felt and indulged
in his sheer raw desire.
       He stroked faster and faster, and with each upward stroke he ran gentle
finger tips over the head and with each downward motion he ran one hand over
his balls, rubbing them together, pushing them up against his straining cock.
He began gasping, seeking release but something held him back. He was hot and
he felt tense, the pleasure in his groin spreading through his body, tingling,
making him feel alive. He needed this but he needed his beloved and as Harry
came he screamed the name of his desire. "Voldemort!"
       He came, the long jets of cum pouring from him, splattering on to his
chest, over his hands and into the air to land on his legs and the chair and
the floor. The mindless desire in him broke, the need faded to manageable
levels leaving him gasping in the glow of his release. After a moment Harry
shifted, waving his hands to clean up as he got to his feet breathing deeply to
bring his heart beat under control. He forced his fingers to go back to normal
and flexed them. He was becoming so used to his animagus form that sometimes he
almost didn't feel right without claws.
       He closed green eyes, turning his face to the ceiling. Five seconds in
his beloved's mind reduced him to a quivering mass of desire, of need and his
release, while sweet was hollow. It was nothing like the mind blowing, soul
comforting release he felt when he slept with his Beloved and Harry wondered,
what would five days, five months, five years of returned desire, returned need
do for him? What would it do for his lust, his love...
       Harry smiled. He was very much going to enjoy finding out.
===
       Voldemort held Severus's gaze with his own. The Potion Master was
fighting him but it would only be a matter of time before his defences were
unravelled. He hadn't had that much time to work on the man in the days since
he'd been captured but already, the Dark Lord had found the desire to anger him
so as to find death. That wasn't going to happen. He was curious though to know
what the Phoenix was doing but so far his former spy had kept that information
from him.
       Snape's robes hung around him, ripped and torn and they probably did
nothing against the pervasive cold of the dungeon but the Dark Lord didn't
care. He was slightly surprised the Shadows hadn't taken the Potion Master but
for the past few days they had been scarce.
       :We've been busy,: they said as if summoned by his thoughts.
       Xoui raised her head to look at the inky darkness the coalesced on the
floor before she once again appeared to go back to sleep, coiled around the
Dark Lord's body. Anyone who knew anything about Basilisks though could tell
that she was faking, the tip of her tail twitched far too rhythmically as she
listened.
       "Oh," Voldemort turned away from Snape, ignoring the way the man slumped
against the wall. In many ways he would have to thank the Shadows, Snape would
go to them but it appeared he would get the satisfaction of torturing the
traitor as well.
       :We finally found them.:
       "Found whom?"
       :Xuld, Xal and Xentor.:
       Xoui hissed and gave up the pretense. "Where?"
       :Where do you think?: The Shadows did not bother to hide their scorn. :
Where we suspected they were, but have only now been able to penetrate and only
because she has been distracted.:
       Xatarass came to the fore with a long hiss. "Are they in immediate
danger?"
       :We don't think so. The woman doesn't seem to be gathering for a major
attack.:
       The serpent seemed to nod in understanding as man and basilisk thought
about their upcoming schedule and dates of power. The next full moon was a blue
moon which would be best for destroying wards on a one to one basis. "Thank you
for the confirmation, I will fetch them with all haste," the basilisk said
before looking towards Xoui. "Go tell the others that vengeance will be within
our coils shortly." The smaller basilisk nodded and slithered to the ground
before exiting the cell.
       "Now," Voldemort said, turning back towards Snape. "Where were we?" He
pushed his mind out and once again slammed into Severus defences. Once he knew
the extent of Severus' betrayal he could move on to other punishments. He would
just have to apologise to Harry if he killed him before the Shadows took the
Potion Master.
===
       Sirius sat back, relaxing. He'd spoken to almost every non-human he
could, gathering support for the Ministry and the Order of the Phoenix and
finally, after months on the road, he was able to report back. Tomorrow or the
next day he'd be at Hogwarts and he'd be able to at least give Remus his moral
support for the upcoming Blue Moon and he'd be able to spend some time with his
Godson. He missed them both more than he thought possible.
       :Could you delay?:
       The wizard didn't even deign to answer that question with a snarl.
       :We mean it, could you delay?:
       "I have spent months on the road, wasting my time, trying to find a
whole lot of creatures who did not want to be found. I have wanted to be back
at Hogwarts with Harry and Remus and now you ask me to delay?" There were times
when the Shadows made sense to Sirius, when the goals were so clear and their
actions so understandable that he forgot they weren't human. And then there
were times like this, when they were completely and utterly out of line.
       :Think about it,: the Shadow's said, unconcerned at the anger they could
feel from the canine animagus. :Once you get back, every hour of every day will
be watched, and assigned and busy. Both Dumbledore and the phoenix will have
things for you to do, and sure you will get some time with our Master and with
Remus but it will not be much and it will all be watched, if not by the Order,
then by the vampires. Out here though, you are a free agent, you can come and
go and all you have to do is report in every once in a while.:
       Sirius closed black eyes. "What do you want done?" he asked. The Shadow
argument was persuasive and true, but that meant nothing. They wanted
something. He could feel it, just as he could feel their ingenious little
smile.
       :A few little things, most of which are far more easily accomplished
without watchers and are preparatory for what will happen.:
       "Such as?"
       :As soon as Remus wins that battle, you know the Werewolves will be
joining us. It would be nice if we had the initial preparation done to make
them feel welcome,: the Shadows said without actually saying anything concrete
about what they wanted done.
       "What do you want done?" Sirius asked again.
       :We want you back with our Master,: the Shadow's said, suddenly changing
track. The canine animagus recognised one of the older Shadows taking the lead.
:Never doubt that, because we want someone guarding his back, but we need
preparations made as well or else we will fail. You have a unique role in
Wizarding society Sirius and in the next year, you are going to have to use
that position, but for now, your best ability is your relative freedom from
observation.:
       "How much longer?"
       :Christmas, at the latest. We are not sure how one or two things will
work out but if they are not settled before then, it won't make a difference.:
       "There is really no other way?"
       :There are other ways,: the Shadows admitted. :They just aren't as
efficient or easy. Why do you think it was Dumbledore and the phoenix wanted
you on this mission?:
       Sirius blinked as the Shadows seemed to change track yet again. He'd
learned though that often when they seemed to change the topic, they were
actually presenting something from a different point of view. Now why had
Dumbledore sent him on this mission? "Because I had the name and the ability to
find those who didn't want to be found," the canine animagus said slowly. That
was the reason the Headmaster had given him anyway.
       :That's part of it,: the Shadows agreed, :But not everything. There are
others in the Order who could have found any creature and negotiated. Why you?
Why did he want a veritable celebrity to be out of the lime light? And you are
a celebrity you know. You are the only man known to have escaped Azkaban and
with your exoneration with the capture of Petrigrew, you are an honourable
warrior who was wrongfully imprisoned. That plays well for the papers, not to
mention the Head of the Ancient and Noble House of Black. All of that plays
well for the papers... So why were you sent into the middle of nowhere?:
       "Why me?" Sirius questioned idly as he thought. He hadn't really had any
plans for this year beyond fighting and he really was just one fighter... But
the way the Shadows phrased their question raised another. Why did Dumbledore
want him away? Why didn't he want him spending time with Harry? Because that's
essentially what he was missing out on wasting time out in the middle of
nowhere. What was so wrong with him spending time with Harry?
       :Perhaps because you would have insisted things be done properly,: the
Shadows voice suggested slyly.
       "What's happened?"
       :Our Master is serving with the Aurors, though in a limited manner. He's
enrolled in four Masteries.:
       "Four?" Sirius couldn't keep the pride out of his voice, though the
Auror news was worrying.
       :Yes; Transfiguration for his Father, Charms for his Mother, Defence
Against the Dark Arts for himself and Care of Magical Creatures for fun,: the
Shadow's voice also echoed with pride.
       "Go back to the Aurors. I made myself very clear on that matter."
       :You did. Too clear it seems and the phoenix was never one to let little
things like rules get in his way. The Order needed a weapon. Our Master is that
weapon. And no matter how young, or how unprepared, our Master had to fight
this year. There was no way Dumbledore or the Phoenix would have allowed
anything else. They couldn't afford to. And no protective Godfather was going
to stop them.
       :Now that they have him in combat, you will be allowed some time with
him, but they wish to control him. Since we, and you, know exactly how
controlled our Master is, we don't mind but later in the year, he is going to
need you as his guardian to help.:
       "Such as?"
       :Oh little things. He needs to visit Gringotts and you can escort him
without either Dumbledore or the Phoenix thinking anything about it. And there
will likely be some Wizengamot sessions. Butbefore that can happen, the Phoenix
and the Headmaster need to believe they have complete control.:
       Sirius laughed, the noise like the barking of a dog before he sobered.
The day would come when Dumbledore, when the entire Order would know exactly
who they had given their future to without checking. It was their own fault. No
one asked the obvious questions. They assumed that even after everything they
knew had happened to Harry that he would still go along with them. What reason
did they give Harry to trust him when they had made such bad decisions? Even he
had made bad decisions. He wouldn't do so again though, that's why he was
currently doing everything in his power to help Harry now.
       He'd seen how much Harry loved the Dark Lord and even more surprisingly
he'd seen the reciprocation from a man he had considered evil incarnate. That
was enough for him. As unlikely as it was, the Dark Lord would see to it that
Harry was both loved and happy. And he, the last of the Black's had promised
James that he would see to it that Harry happy and if allying with the Dark
Lord made Harry happy then that is what Sirius would see happen. The rest of
the wizarding world would just have to live with it, somehow.
       :It won't be that bad,: the Shadow's interrupted his thoughts. :With our
Master's influence, we think you will find the policies to be more than
acceptable. They will certainly be more fair than the current Ministry.:
       Black eyes closed almost tiredly and Sirius sighed. "What do you want me
to do now?"
       :We promised the werewolves Wolfsbane potion and the supplies need to be
purchased and the lab stocked.:
       "You have a Potion Master?"
       The Shadow's actually laughed. :You are going to love them.:
       "I'm going to hate them," Sirius sighed. "Just tell me it's not Snape."
       The Shadows were silent.
       "Snape?! You have to be kidding me!"
       :He is a good Potion Master,: they said somewhat defensively.
       "He's probably the best in the world," Sirius said in a rather
uncharacteristic admission. "But that doesn't mean I like Snivalus."
       :Thankfully, you won't need to deal with him much, if at all.:
       "All right, I'll delay but you owe me."
       :We are going to owe everyone before the year is out,: the Shadow's
grumbled.
       The canine animagus laughed. "Probably," he said with a degree of
happiness he never really expected to feel. "Though, while you and I have time
now, I want an explanation about something."
       The Shadow's seemed to look him up and down. :What's wrong?:
       "Nothing's wrong," Sirius said "but I want you to explain what you meant
when you said you don't feed anyone power, you only enhance or guide already
existing power."
       :It means exactly what it sounds like. All the things you have done, you
have done using your own power.:
       "There is no way I could kill vampires like I did in the Atrium," he
objected.
       :Sure there is,: the Shadow's replied. :You have the power and you
killed them. We simply guided the way you used that power, helped it along a
different path than the one you usually use, a path that made it more lethal to
vampires.:
       Sirius was silent for long moments as he thought, "So that's why after
doing things for you, sometimes I feel so tired?"
       :Yes. You are using your own power, your own magic, we are just guiding
it a little, making it more precise for example, more accurate.:
       "When I broke into the Auror Headquarters and took out those guards, it
was you who angled the shield so precisely?" Sirius remembered that. He'd cast
the shield, expecting it to block the stunning spells of the Aurors and it had,
but it had done more, it had rebounded the spell directly into one of the other
guards. He had been vaguely aware that a wizard of Dumbledore or even the Dark
Lord's calibre had that level of fine control over their spells, but it was a
skill he never thought to have for himself, even if it was applied from the
outside.
       :Yep!: the Shadow's admitted happily. :Think about it. What have you
done in our service that you could not have done under your own power? Oh we've
honed and guided, especially in that fight with Kisha, we showed you how to
move, but it was your power that did all the work. In the Auror Headquarters,
we merely acted as eyes and ears, letting you know where everyone was and how
fast you needed to move. It was you apparated in, and cast the magic to take
down the guards. It was you who took down the warding runes and who did
everything else.:
       The Head of the Ancient and Noble House of Black was silent and seemed
to be deep in thought. The Shadows were admitting to something else here... He
just couldn't see what but he could feel it. Their admission was too easy, they
were too calm. "Wait a second! I apparated through Hogwarts Wards... How did I
do that?"
       :This is the problem with Wizards, you think wards are completely solid.
Wards usually come from Runes. Runes are lines, and even if they encircle each
other, there is always a gap somewhere. It's usually too small for anyone to
notice, a micro-millimetre but if you know where it is, you can slip through
it.:
       "And all that is a lovely explanation which means nothing," Sirius
snorted. He recognised bullshit when he heard it, even if it was remarkably
logical and almost believable.
       :Eh, it was worth a try. The truth is so much more boring. Hogwart's let
you through, just as Hogwart's always let's our Master through.:
       "How is that possible?"
       :The original magic that makes Hogwarts what it is came in part from
Godric Gryffindor. Despite his reluctance to use our power, and to acknowledge
his full heritage, it still formed his magic. All the wards, old and new for
Hogwarts pull on the original magic that created the castle. And if all the
wards pull on the original magic, and we are a part of that original magic,
then doesn't it follow that we can manipulate it?:
       "That's fine, but I don't have your power or even the signature of your
power."
       :Unfortunately, you do. You aren't meant to, but you do. Remember what
we had to do to revive our Master after that brat killed him?:
       Sirius nodded. How could he forget that?
       :It changed you as well. Not as much, because you aren't our Master, you
don't really have the ability to support us. But it changed your magic
signature enough that when we back it, when we support it, anything looking for
our power will see it reflected in your power and will therefore recognise you
as a part of us. That's what happened when you apparated through the Hogwart's
wards. The castle itself recognised you as us, and hence as a part of its
foundational magic and it allowed you through.:
       "All right. That at least makes more sense now. Though how the hell did
I get into the Dark Lord's stronghold? Because you aren't going to trick me
into thinking his wards share a part of your magic, or that they have gaps!"
       :Why are wizards never happy?: The Shadow's muttered the question to
themselves. :Our Master goes through the Dark Lord's wards in two ways, sheer
power and by unconsciously asking his Lover's magic to recognise him. They are
linked at such a level that they don't even realise it. You got through...: the
Shadow's trailed off. :Actually we aren't sure how you got through... We didn't
even think about it at the time, we just made sure you could get through...:
       Sirius laughed, but he did not feel merry. "Great, just great. So for
all you knew, I could have splattered up against his wards?"
       :No! We said we made sure you could get through and we did. Splattering
wasn't an option. We'll have to ask one of us who is with the Dark Lord. They
will know how you did it.:
       "Well... At least you didn't say it was magic," Sirius said softly. Once
they admitted they weren't sure, he'd been half expecting that explanation,
though he still had the feeling he was missing something, and it wasn't how he
apparated through the Dark Lord's wards. It was something bigger, something
that would change everything.
       :Actually,: a different Shadow voice said with a speculative note, :what
if both our Master and Sirius go through the Dark Lord's wards because he's
already opened them up to our power? Our Master could use power to get through
them, or he could use his link, but I don't think he did. I think the wards
recognised him and therefore us. After all, if the Dark Lord has an alliance
with us, wouldn't we want our servants to be able to come and go? And that's
what the Ministry and the vampires believe Sirius and our Master to be... our
servants who occasionally render service to the Dark Lord.:
       "Check for me," Sirius said. "Because I don't want to find out I used a
hole the first time that he's now closed up so I get splattered the second
time. And I know you, there will be a second time."
       :We will, because we want to know ourselves.:
       He still felt like he was missing something but that it would come to
him in time. "I want you to teach me something."
       :Hmm?:
       "Whatever I did to the Vampires, I want you to teach me to do that
consciously - without your guidance."
       :We can do that,: the Shadow's said though Sirius could detect a small
note of doubt in their voice. It wasn't about his ability though, it felt like
it was about something else.
       "What do you doubt?"
       :It's been a long time since we had to teach so we hope our explanations
are acceptable, rather than instinctual.:
       "And it's been a while since I've been a student, so don't worry, I'll
just keep complaining until I get it."
       :We are sure you will. Can you cast the Fidel Charm still?:
       "Yes, what do you need me to hide?"
       :Nothing yet, but soon.:
       Sirius nodded before he sat back again, looking up at the sky. The air
was cold but he didn't feel a chill and the almost full moon was just beginning
to rise. "Go away now," he said suddenly. "I want to contemplate what insanity
has made me agree with you to delay." And he wanted to think about what he was
missing with the Shadow's admission that it was his power that had done
everything.
       :Good night Sirius,: the Shadows said by way of farewell and the sense
of their presence faded as the canine animagus settled down for the night.
       Another month wasn't that bad, not if it meant their eventual victory
and not if the others were busy... But so help him, if Dumbledore got Harry
injured in that month... there would be hell to pay. The Dark Lord would have
to race him to see who could kill the ancient wizard first because Sirius was
sick and tired of all the short cuts and bad decisions everyone seemed to make
around his Godchild. It would end. It had to end and he would see that Harry
was happy, no matter the cost to the rest of the world.
===
       Harry sat with Hermione and the others in an empty class room. Ron and
Neville were busy scribbling a Potion essay. Even with Snape missing, no one
was neglecting their homework. They were here mostly for the company. Luna and
Ginny were also present but the two of them were so deeply engrossed in a
project it was doubtful that they even knew where they were. He'd helped
Hermione go through some Arithmancy homework earlier and now she was running
ideas by him. When the news about Azkaban had broken he'd been unable to ask
her if she could come up with a way of killing Dementors, but he'd managed to
slip the question to her a couple of days later, and give her the information
on the one method currently known to kill them. The muggle-born witch had been
as horrified as expected about the amount of effort it took to kill one and had
promised to think about other methods.
       She had, and now she was running them by him to see if he thought any
would work. Harry was actually of two minds. Yes, it took a lot of energy to
kill a Dementor but so what? The Dementors were loyal to the Dark, they would
not attack him or anyone loyal to the Shadows so why did he want them dead? Or
a method to kill them? Yes, sure he was the Light's Weapon but this could
perhaps be going too far to prove his worth. They already had to use him and he
was already proving that he was indispensable, he didn't have to go further and
besides, he already had a method that was a lot simpler than the Ministry
method and he was not about to share that information with them.
       "You never ask me easy questions, do you Harry?" Hermione mocked
complained with a smile. The harder the question the better she liked it and
Harry knew that.
       "So what did you find out?"
       "They really are disgusting creatures," the brown haired young woman
shuddered. "I honestly don't know why the Ministry has dealings with them... Or
had dealings with them. I came up with a few ideas but I don't know if they
will work."
       "What are they?" Harry asked gently.
       "High level fire charm, something like Fiend Fyre."
       Harry shook his head after considering it. He'd never read it, but he
could clearly see the words on a classified report held by the Unspeakables
about what Fiend Fyre did to Dementors. It stopped them but it did not destroy
them, not completely. And mostly they just rose out of its range. There was
some thought that if you could trap them in an enclosed area with the fire then
it might be acceptable, but who wanted to go down with them? That particular
theory might work but had never knowingly been tested.
       "That seemed the most likely one," Hermione said, before looking down at
her list again. "Other high level elemental spells aren't likely to work.
Earth, air, water, while they have destructive power, they tend to leave bits
and that won't work on a Dementor."
       "That's true. You have to destroy them completely."
       :Or eat them completely.:
       :Shush you!:
       "The problem is the way they are put together," Hermione mused. "They
actually have no soul, which should make them easy to kill but actually makes
it harder since they aren't alive in the way we think about it."
       "So like a vampire?" Harry provided the question though he already knew
the answer.
       "Yes, like a vampire, though given that vampires are comparatively easy
to kill I think they still maintain a connection to their souls. A dementor has
had its soul removed so there is no lingering connection. I tried finding out
if Dementors die naturally."
       Harry raised one eye brow. That was an interesting question and one he
hadn't considered. Did Dementor's die naturally? They would almost have to...
eventually... They were soulless and they did have a physical presence as well
as a magical one but neither of those could be eternal. The physical body if
nothing else would eventually collapse into dust. It would take centuries but
it would happen, which might explain the Dementors affinity for ice. Ice would
preserve their bodies for as long as possible... which suggested that if you
accelerated their decomposition, you might be able to kill them more easily. So
a chronological charm combined with heat and maybe a farming fertilising
charm...? Hopefully Hermione hadn't thought about this.
       Hermione had continued speaking while he'd been considering. "But no one
knows if they do or they don't. And I don't think they'd answer that question
so I had to go on to something else. Emotional charms like the cheering charm
probably wouldn't work though it might confuse them for a little while."
       "They don't work," Harry said with a small smile. "They've been tried.
Let's face it, the cheering charm is one of the first we learn and because of
that, it's one of those charms plenty of people practice when trying to train
themselves in wandless magic. As a result, it's been cast on Dementors a fair
bit and it doesn't do anything to them."
       "I should have known," the muggleborn witch sighed. "So emotive charms
are a bust?"
       "I'm afraid so."
       "Regional affect charms are also out."
       "Yes, those are pretty ineffective."
       "Darn it!" Hermione huffed. "I can think of plenty of things to slow
them down but destroying them is another matter! You could dimensionally shift
them but that isn't fair on the dimension they get dumped in... though there is
one method I thought of but I don't know how you could possibly try it."
       "What is it?" Harry asked with some interest, thankful that Hermione
seemed to have left out a few proposals.
       She looked sick but gulped and continued. "Dementors are so
indestructible because they aren't really alive. I don't suppose you could
interrupt their magic streams?" She asked suddenly.
       "You might be able to on a one to one basis," Harry said without giving
it much thought. Interrupting their internal magic stream was a part of the
Ministry proscribed method of destroying Dementors. "But on a large scale, no.
You've got to think about them almost like witches and wizards in that manner,
what you can do to one, you can't necessarily do to a group, at least, not at
the same time."
       "Well that leaves the other way. If Dementor's aren't really alive, then
if you could somehow make them alive in the way we know it, then they might be
more destructible."
       "So how do you make them more alive?"
       At this Harry swore that Hermione actually turned green. "They aren't
alive because they have no soul. To make them alive, you'd have to give them at
least a bit of a soul..." she whispered the last.
       Harry was surprised. He knew the witch would consider all options but
that one was... It made him feel sick as well. How... where did you get a bit
of soul from? Souls were... Souls were sacred. You wouldn't want to use your
own and you couldn't in good conscious use anyone else's... And then there was
the fact that it might not work... Harry frowned as he considered it... It
probably would work but he really didn't want to try it. He looked over at
Hermione. She seemed downcast, though he didn't think she was disappointed. "I
think... I think that would work," Harry heard himself say. "But I don't think
anyone would want to try it." He added the last with a soft smile.
       She smiled back at him, laughing softly. "I don't think so either. So
they are still unkillable."
       "I'm afraid so," Harry sighed. "But tell me what your ideas were to slow
them down, I think I'll probably need them."
       Hermione smiled and pulled out another list. "I thought you might," she
said.
       Harry grinned at her, "Thank you," he said sincerely. "It may not seem
like much to you Hermione, but this does mean more than you know."
       "It's no problem Harry, it really is no problem. I'm happy to help."
       "Just being there is a help," Harry said sincerely and was slightly
surprised that he meant it. Knowing that they were there for him, knowing that
while they didn't understand everything his friends were trying to be good
friends to him was enough. He hoped their friendship would continue but for
now, just being there was enough. He smiled at Hermione and said nothing. There
was nothing more he could say.
      
      
***** Acceptance *****
Weapon
Chapter 33 Acceptance
       Sirius resisted the urge to curse the creature in front of him. It would
be in character but it would not get him answers. Currently he was standing in
an Apothecary. It was the sixth Apothecary he had been to today. The Shadows
needed the ingredients for Wolfsbane potion and they needed it in large
quantities delivered every month. Once anyone got records of what was being
supplied, they would know what was being made. They Shadows didn't care but
they weren't going to make it obvious, so each Apothecary had an order for a
different ingredient. It was a flimsy enough security measure but it was all
they could do.
       Except of course, they now had Apothecaries trying to rip them off. He
was currently in disguise as the Shadow agent which had been sufficient to
intimidate some but this one was apparently made of sterner stuff. Of course,
he did run one of the dingiest, dirtiest places in Knockturn Alley so he would
have to be tough. It didn't do Sirius any good though. He simply wanted the
potion ingredients, a supply for now and an ongoing monthly delivery. All of
which he was prepared to pay for handsomely; some extra commission was not
unexpected for them to keep their mouths shut, but he was not prepared to be
blatantly ripped off.
       "If you are incapable of providing what I need," Sirius said with an
over exaggerated amount of reasonableness, "then there is no shame in telling
me and I will move on."
       "Oh no, no, I can get your stuff... It's so rare that someone wants just
one ingredient in such quantity so I'm curious as to why."
       "You don't need to know why," Sirius said shortly.
       "You see, this is where we have a problem," the Apothecary said, trying
to sound sure of himself. "I make it a policy not to sell such large quantities
of what is a very dangerous ingredient without knowing my customer. In fact,
it's not just my policy, it is Ministry policy. And you aren't prepared to
leave a name, though your face is known well enough. Perhaps I would be better
off just reporting you."
       Sirius smiled, and though the Apothecary could not see it behind his
mask, he definitely saw the change in his eyes. Oh... he did so hope that the
man would call the Ministry. That would make things so much easier, though
perhaps it wouldn't get him the ingredient, it would make him feel a lot
better. "Please," Sirius invited. "Call the Ministry; that will make things so
much simpler."
       "Oh, I'm sure you can kill me, or rough me up or any number of
unpleasant options but it's not worth your time. My little security camera, a
very nice Muggle invention has already spotted you and if anything happens,
then that picture will be sent to the Aurors and to a fair number of others. I
know you don't fear the Ministry, but those others will cause you problems, no
matter how powerful you are. Just pay my price and things will be easy."
       :Can you do something?: Sirius asked the Shadow's silently.
       :We already are doing something,: they said with a note of anger in
their voice. :You aren't our only agent Sirius, just you are our only helper at
the moment. The others have just received orders to destroy this... hindrance.:
       Silently Sirius chuckled. :You really don't take annoyances well do
you?:
       :The amount we are prepared to pay is more than generous. This one is
just being greedy.:
       :Can I walk out?:
       :Pay for delivery for this month, but we will get someone else for the
future,: the Shadow's spat.
       Black eyes burned as Sirius glared before he threw a bag of galleons on
to the counter. "The ingredients," he ground out.
       "You see how easy it is?" The Apothecary said, grabbing for the bag.
       Sirius slammed his knife down between the Apothecary's fingers. He
didn't cut skin but it was enough to get the man's attention. "Don't be
stupid," the man said.
       "I'm not the one being stupid," Sirius said happily. "I am prepared to
pay generously but now I'll walk away and while I'm sure you can call your
others to attempt to deal with me, I think you will find yourself a little
busy. You know who I am and while you don't know who I work for, you should
have known enough not to deny what is our very generous offer." With a harsh
yank, Sirius pulled his knife back, flicking it around one finger before he
resheathed it, stepping back slightly to allow the Apothecary to pick up the
bag.
       "Whatever makes you feel happy," the man said without concern, pulling
the bag of galleons to his side of the counter. He stepped back and turned to
the shelves behind him, rummaging around for a moment or two before he turned
back and placed a jar on the counter. "Your goods," he said Apothecary said
happily.
       "Thank you," Sirius said, taking the jar and tucking it into one of his
pockets before turning to leave. :How many more Apothecaries?: he asked as he
walked out the door, pulling it firmly closed behind him.
       :Not many,: the Shadows said.
       :Is there any reason why you insist on buying all the ingredients?:
       :Is the Ancient and Noble Lord feeling poor?:
       :No, but surely at least some of these ingredients can be grown?: Sirius
felt the Shadow's pause and if they had eyes they would have been blinking them
in surprise.
       :No one we control is the farming type,: they eventually said, though
they didn't dismiss the idea outright.
       :That might be true,: Sirius said, glancing behind him. Ah... some
people were so predictable. The Apothecary had sent some thugs after him. :I'm
sure the werewolves would probably have a few who can farm, and even if they
don't, for a wage, they'll learn.:
       Once again the Shadow's seemed to consider it though the canine animagus
already knew that he was right. Some of the ingredients could be farmed, or
collected. Maybe not enough for all the werewolves, but at least it would help,
and if they were paying the werewolves then that would help towards keeping
them safe. In the last month or so Sirius had gone over everything Remus had
ever hinted or implied about werewolf society. The fact that they all helped
each other out when necessary loomed pretty large in all their discussions. So
employing werewolves was all for the good. :We will see what can be done,: the
Shadows said before they seemed to look at him again. :Did you want to avoid
these ones or indulge?:
       Sirius chuckled. :You have to ask?:
       :Duck down into that alley,: they instructed and Sirius obeyed easily,
noticing that the path they had directed him to was covered in shadow... but it
also stank. It was a good thing he wasn't in his dog form or he would have been
overpowered by the smell alone. Oh well, at least it was private. Though he
suspected he probably could fight them in Knockturn Alley and no one would
really mind, so long as he didn't damage any property.
       :Now the one thing we will do,: the Shadow's said with a laugh, :is wrap
around you so that when you stand in darkness you will be hidden.:
       Sirius looked around and spotted a box. It looked somewhat clean and
fairly sturdy so he sat on it, drawing his wand to await developments. It
didn't take long for the thugs to follow him, though they were cautious enough
to place a guard at the entrance. "So, are you here to kill me, rough me up, or
just find out who I am under this mask?" Sirius grinned as he asked the
question, knowing that his voice probably appeared to come from nowhere. He
looked the men over.
       They were wizards though they seemed to be the type who relied on brawn
more than their magic, but Sirius knew from experience that they were probably
adept in at least a couple of curses, which they wouldn't be shy about casting.
Their robes were none to clean but appeared to be of good quality but that
didn't matter. What he had to decide was if he wanted to kill them or just
knock them out.
       One of the men laughed. They thought him trapped. How little they knew
of the Marauders. "Do you have any idea how much your identity is worth? The
Ministry will pay, the Dark Lord, the Vampires... Oh Merlin... will they pay!"
       "It's so nice to be appreciated."
       "Ya, it is and make no mistake Mister, we do appreciate you."
       :Could you make it look like a vampire killed them?: the Shadows
suddenly suggested and Sirius felt himself smile. It answered his question on
knock out or kill, but it also added another aspect to the game. The Vampires
currently enjoyed a fair level of public support. There were those who would
never back them but in the interests of the 'Greater Good' they were keeping
their concerns to themselves but on the whole the Wizarding Public was being
told how helpful they were being in trying to fight the Dark Lord. They were
also being extremely careful about how they fed. Xeoaph had them on a very
tight leash and now that the canine animagus thought about it, he suspected the
vampires were preying on any Muggles in the area. Most wizards wouldn't even
consider that a problem; what were a few Muggles after all?
       "That's nice," Sirius murmured, throwing a charm forward as he stood and
moved forward. He threw the first punch, chopping into one of the wizards'
throats with a blow that left them gasping on the ground. Most would call it a
dirty move but he didn't care. In a fight like this it didn't matter. Actually
in any fight it didn't matter. You fought to win, nothing more. He knew first
hand that history was written by the victors and they could put in any lies
they wanted about honourable battle.
       He'd taken the initiative from the wizard thugs but they were quick to
react and Sirius jumped back as several rather nasty hexes landed where he had
been. He smiled and spun, punching one heavily in their stomach before kicking
another between the legs. With a strangled howl of agony they went down,
clutching their genitals. The rest of them were shouting that they couldn't see
him. Sirius drew his wand, snapping off charms with a speed he'd learnt during
the war. He was not the best dualist but he was no slouch and he was definitely
good enough to take out a bunch of ruffians.
       :Wait! Not that one!: the Shadows yelled as he was about to turn his
wand to one of the last standing thugs.
       Sirius' showed no reaction but altered the charm to a stunner before he
took out the other few. The canine animagus rolled his eyes as the last of the
thugs fell. "Well that was easy," he muttered, idly twirling his wand between
his fingers.
       :Quality thugs are so hard to find,: the Shadows quipped before they
turned serious. :Cast a blood draining spell and leave them here.:
       "What about that one?" Sirius indicated towards the one they had told
him to stun as he drew his dagger with his left hand.
       :That one is a Death Eater,: they said disgusted. :We can't have him
left dead with these ones, or no one would care. Killing Death Eaters won't
incite the public, no matter who did it.:
       Sirius nodded. It made a lot of sense. "So I just dump him back on the
Dark Lord?"
       :Something like that,: they said easily.
       The thugs he'd physically hit, he'd knocked unconscious with a charm,
leaving all of them laid out. He bent over each of them, pricking their necks
with two little marks before he cast the blood draining spell. It was a common
enough medical spell which could in this situation be used to kill. Though this
time it would drain enough blood out of the thugs and most would think that
vampires had killed them. Any Auror worth his salt would be able to work out
that it was a set up, but if some member of the wizarding public found them the
rumour would run rampant. And that would suit the Shadows all the more.
       Sirius whistled a tune, picked up the unconscious Death Eater, and
apparated out of the alley. Just a few more Apothecaries and then he would
begin setting up the lab. He deliberately turned his mind away from the fact
he'd most likely be chaperoning the Shadow's Potion Master, at least for a few
days though he was kind of looking forward to Snivalus' reaction to two things.
One, what they had done to his personal Potions Lab in his house and two, how
badly he'd freak when he saw who he had to work with. The Shadows had at least
given him a little time to get used to the idea.
       Sirius chuckled as he dumped the Death Eater on the door step of a house
the Shadows assured him was Dark Lord controlled. Things were about to get
interesting.
===
       Deep in his mind, Severus suppressed his hiss of pain as the assault on
his shields was renewed. By now Dumbledore would have noticed that he was
absent. They had agreed many years back that before any alarm was raised that
three days would pass just in case the Dark Lord had any longer mission. Three
days was long enough that he could send word if there was need. He was mildly
surprised that he was still relatively all right. The Dark Lord had not spent
as much time with him as he had expected. The dark haired man had no illusions
about his Occulmeency under the brunt of a dedicated assault from the man he
had called Lord.
       He just hoped that the Phoenix contacted him before the Dark Lord wore
away his shields. It had been years since he'd had to face such a focused
assault on his mental defences and he could feel that the Dark Lord had gotten
stronger. His Legilmency was somehow more focused as he bent to the task. It
was a sobering thought. Sixteen years back when the Dark Lord had been
defeated, he'd been thought to be close to invincible; how could he be stronger
than that time? And it wasn't as if Snape had learned nothing. He had been
preparing for this day for years but his defences were fast falling. Some
caused the Dark Lord pause, some he didn't even seem to see as he ripped them
apart and Snape retreated further into the depths of his mind, reinforcing
those shields he could.
       "Severus," the voice whispered to him and he closed his eyes, feeling
warmth wash over him. Lily's voice always calmed him but the presence of the
memory was worrying. That was one of his most well protected memories, hidden
deep in his mind in a place where it could not be damaged, in a place where it
was cherished and would be safe for all his life. If he had retreated this far
already or that much damage had been done then he couldn't hold out much
longer. Without thought he diverted some of his attention, reinforcing the
barriers about his most precious memories. The memories of fear, the memories
of hatred, the Dark Lord could have them. These soft, gentle memories of love,
of the warmth he always felt when he thought of her, he could never be allowed
to touch them.
       "Severus," another voice sounded in the depths of his mind. It was harsh
and cold and he recognised it at the Dark Lord's. He hadn't really reached that
far into him, not yet but he was getting closer and the Occulmency barriers
Snape had were being unravelled. Even in the depths of his mind, he could feel
the sheer force of the dark magic surrounding him. He ignored the call and went
back to reinforcing his shields.
       "Severus."
       "What!" Snape snarled, turning towards the noise. It was getting crowded
in his mind. "Oh... Fawkes."
       The phoenix was a single flame manifested on a dull grey plain. While
the bird had no eyes somehow he seemed to look around and see the damage the
Dark Lord was inflicting. "Finally," Snape said. "It won't be long before he
breaches the defences."
       "I can see that. How were you captured?"
       "It doesn't matter," the Potion Master shook his head. "You have to
know, there is an attack coming, on Hogwarts, sometime around Christmas."
       The flame that was representing the Fire Bird dipped slightly in
recognition of the information. "Anything else?"
       "Nothing of importance. He's still courting the werewolves, most of the
Death Eaters have fully recovered and he doesn't yet have a way to stop the
Ministry's tracking. He will soon though. I don't know how, I just know it will
be soon."
       Severus smiled. He had done his duty and agreement had already been
reached about options in this situation.
       "No."
       The Potion Master frowned. "No? What do you mean no?"
       "I can't."
       "It was decided," Snape snapped. He didn't need to be in a situation
like this. The consequences had already been discussed and his freedom
guaranteed. Now the Fire Bird was refusing... Had the bird lost his nerve?
       "I can't."
       "You mean you won't."
       "It doesn't matter. You need to live."
       "Then you have to get me out of here."
       "I can't."
       "Then you want me to suffer?"
       "I want you to live."
       "Then do something. You can track me, or you should be able to, so you
can get me out of here. If you want me to live, then you are going to have to
do something. Else fulfil our agreement for this situation and end it. I'm
ready."
       "You expect me, a being of Light, to kill you?"
       "I expect you, a being of Light to honour your word. You assured me you
could do it. You assured me you would do it. I knew the risks, I accepted the
consequences and you agreed to give me freedom in this situation. If you won't
do that, and you won't come to get me out, then do not demand that I live. Do
not demand anything from me. You took my word, you took my blood and abilities,
yet you won't take my life? Do not dare to betray me that way!"
       "I cannot save you," the presence of Fawkes whispered to Snape but he
was almost beyond hearing.
       "You owe me!"
       "And I cannot do what you wish," the Firebird's presence faded in his
mind.
       "Traitor!" Snape screamed with uncharacteristic emotion. He'd been
holding on to give Fawkes the information and because of the deal he'd worked
out with Dumbledore and the phoenix. If he was trapped, truly trapped and
unable to be freed or to escape, with the Dark Lord hounding him, then they
would grant him a clean death. And now the phoenix had reneged. He was a being
of Light, Severus knew that but killing him in this situation was not an act of
evil; it was a mercy. Those were the words the Phoenix had used when he'd
questioned Fawkes about his ability to kill him in this exact situation. It
appeared the so called being of light could lie.
       "There you are!" A voice proclaimed with true satisfaction and a massive
force pressed down on Severus with the announcement. He became aware of his
last defences shattering. In his mind, the Dark Lord materialised, red robes
perfect and the sense of his presence almost overwhelming.
       Red eyes flicked around and the Potion Master felt himself tense. It
might be futile to try to defend the memories around him against a man who had
already stripped away all his defences, but the Potion Master would try. "Ah, I
see," the Dark Lord murmured and Snape felt sickened that in all likelihood the
Serpent Lord probably did understand completely what this place and the
memories that remained meant to him. After another moment Snape watched as his
former Lord frowned. "I expected to find the Phoenix somewhere. Did I miss
him?"
       Severus spat.
       "Ahahahaha, he left you. How like those who purport to be Light! Very
few have the courage to keep their word when the going gets tough. Ah
Severus... I did so wish I was wrong but I knew the instant you denied nothing
that I was right' you had made your choice. A pity, for I have always respected
your ability as a Potion Master and that alone was almost enough to spare you
but you have given me no choice." The Dark Lord turned and Snape felt a tug at
his consciousness. "Come along, I would leave this place as it is, to honour
the woman."
       All at once, Snape felt himself rising through his mind. His surprise
that the Dark Lord had left his most cherished memories whole and protected in
his mind was instantly killed by pain as he regained consciousness. Severus
felt his breath ripping through his throat as he laboured to draw air into his
lungs. How was it that the Serpent Lord, the epitome of evil had shown him more
respect in a few words and in his actions than the phoenix, a being that was
meant to be pure light? The pain in his throat was dulled by the rising feeling
of sickness.
       As the pain faded slightly and Snape forced himself to look around. The
world was upside down, but that was because he was lying on his back, his head
tilted to stare up at the Dark Lord who was seated in his throne. That
explained where he was. The stone of the floor was freezing and as he groaned
he rolled over, breaking eye contact with his former Lord. He looked down to
see that the stone was still the smooth red he remembered when he had been
brought before his Lord after being captured.
       "You've redecorated," he choked out and immediately felt like an idiot.
He was not some punk bravado, yet he was acting like one.
       "Do you like it?" There was a smirk in the Dark Lord's voice. "One of my
allies decided that some colour co-ordination was needed, though I admit, I
still don't quite know what charm they used to freeze it. I will have to ask
them. Now that you've joined us properly, I suppose I can get on with punishing
you."
       There was the Lord he remembered, the merciless wizard who cared for
nothing but his own power. Severus almost smiled at the predictability of it
all as the air distortion that was the Cruciatus Curse flew towards him. Then
it was all he could do to not scream in pain. With his mind shattered and his
ability to hide behind any mental shields gone, he knew his defiance would not
last for long.
       After what felt like an eternity but was probably only a few minutes the
pain faded and Severus found himself gasping, feeling aches in his limbs from
where they had repeatedly hit the floor. The phantom pain slowly leaked from
his extremities but he felt weak and lethargic. There were a few Death Eaters
lining the walls but they appeared just to be watching. As usual a few snakes
were wound around the throne and Snape could feel a Dementor close by but he
couldn't see it. Silently he questioned himself. Why was he even looking? He
already knew he could not escape.
       "And again, maybe this time you will scream." The Dark Lord waved his
hand again and once more the Cruciatus curse sprang forth. The fact that he
could perform it wandlessly was not lost on Severus but he had no time to
appreciate as once again his entire body seemed to burn, even while it froze.
He arched back, his limbs slipping from his control as they convulsed, hitting
the hard stone harshly. He twisted and turned, trying to seek relief, all the
while knowing that there was nothing that could stop the pain of the curse.
Even his breath hurt and he felt his eyes widen as he screamed and screamed and
screamed.
       There was no end to the pain.
       And with another wave of the Dark Lord's white hand, the curse was
cancelled and he could suddenly breathe again. He collapsed to the ground, as
his back unarched and his limbs felt like lead. Instinctively Snape dragged in
great lungfuls of air as he tried to recover.
       :Well, have you remembered our offer yet?:
       "Sh..." Severus choked as spit pooled in the back of his throat and it
hurt too much to swallow. "Shut up," he ground out the words. He hadn't
remembered the Shadows offer until the instant he'd recognised their whispered
voice in what was left of his mind and then the knowledge had flooded back to
him. They had bid him remember in exactly this situation. He was screaming on
the cold stone floor, his muscles were cramping, his bones ached and his blood
was boiling in his veins. Fawkes had rejected him and he was lying, broken and
bleeding before the Dark Lord.
       "No!" Snape recognised his former Lord's voice, raised slightly in
anger. Apparently he recognised who the Potion Master was talking to. "He is
not for you!"
       :Only you can decide that Severus... Will you take the redemption we
offer Or will you take the pain the Dark Lord will give you?:
       "No... no children..." Severus swallowed against the pain. "No... Ord...
Order... No... no... no..."
       "You cannot have him!" The Dark Lord said again, glaring at the
gathering Shadows.
       :No children, no Order, no Dark Lord, no vampires, not even our Master.
Nothing will matter Severus, nothing but the brew of a potion. We promised you
that, and you know we keep our promises.:
       "Crucio!" This time the Dark Lord said the curse and Severus drew breath
to scream, "I accept"! And then he knew no more.
       In the throne room of the Dark Lord, there was an instant of total
darkness. It was less than the blink of an eye but in that time the prisoner
vanished. Voldemort snarled, readjusting the warding runes he'd deliberately
loosed earlier, before he looked at the Shadows that were moving restlessly in
the rafters, suddenly completely calm. "That went better than I had hoped," he
mused.
       :He was stubborn, we will grant him that.:
       Voldemort chuckled. "If he wasn't stubborn, you wouldn't respect him,"
he said easily before his expression turned more reflective. "After all this
time, he still loves her."
       :And how long will you love our Master?: the Shadows asked.
       The Dark Lord was thankful only he could hear them but he saw their
point. He would love Harry forever, even if they were apart, though the world
would most likely die screaming if anything happened to his beloved. "What will
you do with him now?"
       :After he recovers, we have quite a few potions we want him to make. You
might even see one or two of them. Apart from that though, his efforts in this
war are over. He won't be appearing on any battlefield.:
       "Then I suppose I feel satisfied by his punishment," Voldemort said
softly.
       :You should, you had him for longer than we thought you would.:
       "As you say, he's stubborn," the dark wizard snorted. "Are my children
still safe?" the voice was Xatarass'.
       :They are. You can collect them at any time.:
       "Then I suppose I had better make plans," Voldemort sighed, rising from
his throne and striding to the door. No matter that Severus was now in the
proverbial hands of the Shadows, he did have a very busy month to plan and
wasting time over a prisoner he always knew he was going to lose was not how
one won a war.
 
***** Blue Moon *****
Weapon
Chapter 34 Blue Moon
       Remus, like the other three Pack Leaders, leaned against trees as they
waited for the moon to rise. All of them could feel their inner wolves shifting
in anticipation, testing the bounds of their human bodies but unable to break
free. A blue moon may mean nothing to most, but to werewolves it was a time of
power.
       Fenrir was across from him stripped down to a loin cloth, though Lupin
could feel that the man would like even less in the way of clothing. He'd been
pacing back and forth measuring distances with his still-human mind.
       "Don't even think about it," Remus warned, catching Greyback's intent as
the man looked deliberately at the ground between him and Blackpelt. Remus let
his wand slip forward.
       "Bah!" Fenrir snarled even as Blackpelt became aware and growled his own
warning. The four who remained in the fight for the position of Pack Leader of
the Isles had all been werewolves from a young age, though Longtooth was
Muggleborn. Blackpelt, Fenrir, and Remus all had Wizarding blood but only Remus
had the training and he was not afraid to use that fact.
       The four of them had chosen a clearing deep in the woods and were now
waiting for the moon to rise, and while none of the others were quite as
scantily clad as Fenrir, they were all in simple enough robes that could be
shed when the transformation took hold of them.
       "I'm going to enjoy watching you bow to me tomorrow," Fenrir growled to
Remus. "Then your pretty little wizarding tricks won't mean a thing."
       Remus snorted. "Funnily enough, Old Man, I was just thinking that it was
time you stepped aside."
       "Over my dead body."
       "I can arrange that," Remus returned the last with a toothy grin. This
close to a full moon, he had learned not to attempt to restrain the wolf and
the aggressive instincts it had. If he did, it hurt more and for this
particular moon, aggression was called for. Even if he couldn't control the
wolf, Remus was feeling confident. To go into this battle with anything less
than a full belief in his abilities would have been stupid. He knew the others
had been offered the same charm and he was fairly sure that Longtooth had taken
it but he didn't think that would affect the outcome.
       Simultaneously, the four werewolves stiffened and turned their faces
towards the moon. A sliver was visible over the mountains, not enough light to
change them but enough to get their attention.
       "Finally," Fenrir growled, his voice showing his immense satisfaction.
"I'll be disappointed if you pups don't fight to the death."
       "There will be at least one death," Blackpelt snapped.
       "I'm aiming for two," Fenrir rumbled happily.
       "Oh, I'm honoured," Remus laughed.
       "Only because I want to see you bow more than I want to see your
corpse," Greyback barked, his voice degraded as the moon rose higher.
       For a time the only noise in the clearing was the popping of bones and
the snarling and snapping that accompanied a human's change into their werewolf
form. And then four Alpha wolves regarded each other for a moment. It was only
an instant of time and before the battle tonight there was no preamble. Four
sets of claws dug into the earth, gaining purchase to jump in attack. Fenrir
claws raked at Longtooth while Remus snapped towards Blackpelt. Momentum
carried them all passed the others and the instant they landed, all four wolves
leapt back into attack.
       This time Remus tried to bite Fenrir, knowing that if he could wound the
older werewolf, he might have a chance of getting Longtooth onside if his human
mind still dominated his wolf. He would no doubt recognise that Fenrir was the
biggest threat. Remus had been surprised tonight, as he had been the last two
moons. The charm was meant to reinforce his human mind, it was not meant to do
anything about the pain he felt with his transformation, but he would swear
that with each moon the pain had in fact lessened. It still hurt like hell as
his body forcibly restructured itself, but it seemed to him that it was a bit
smoother and recovery was easier. He would have to check later.
       In werewolf form there could not be discussion and it was pure chance
based on the way they landed but they did not try to fight as four again. Remus
found himself snarling at Blackpelt and he didn't even think as he allowed his
werewolf instincts to control his actions. As per his name, Blackpelt had one
of the most magnificent jet black coats that Remus had ever seen. It was long
with a few white stripes through it. You wouldn't call them a tiger because
they traced their way over his back almost like the edges of a blanket. The
werewolves were about the same size as wolves and neither backed down at the
other's displays of dominance.
       Remus didn't have much chance to think about anything before his wolf
and Blackpelt attacked each other. They didn't jump but instead ran at each
other, ducking and weaving as each attempted to grab hold. Remus felt his teeth
pierce flesh even as he felt Blackpelt's teeth dig into his own muscle but
neither managed to gain a decent purchase, so they continued to dance around
the other. Lupin at least kept one eye on Longtooth and Greyback and their very
vicious battle.
       As they closed again, Remus saw an opening and he twisted in what any
wolf would have thought was a submissive move but it allowed him to come at
Blackpelt from an odd angle, ducking under and coming up under Blackpelt's
muzzle so that he could not defend. He jumped back, having realised what was
happening, it was too late. Remus was driving him upward, back on to both their
hind legs before he allowed momentum to continue to carry him forward, driving
Blackpelt over backwards. Lupin came down on top of the other werewolf, his
jaws fastened over Blackpelt's throat. He didn't grip tightly, but enough to
draw blood. Blackpelt's forelegs scrambled for a moment trying to drive Remus
off, but it was no use and after a moment the wolf in him relaxed, curling his
front legs up and tucking in his hind legs as he lay on his back in complete
submission.
       Remus scrambled around slightly, placing one of his hind legs on
Blackpelt's now exposed abdomen before he released his jaws, licking once at
the shallow wound he had made and then he let the other werewolf up. Blackpelt
had lost; he would now obey him. Blackpelt turned and disappeared into the
trees, a sign of his defeat. That left Greyback and Longtooth. Knowing what he
did of Fenrir, both man and wolf did not hold out much hope of Longtooth
defeating Greyback. The Muggle werewolf was as strong as any other of their
kind, but Fenrir was truly vicious and that would make the difference.
       It was no surprise therefore when Remus turned to the battle between
Fenrir and Longtooth and found that Longtooth was limping badly, bleeding from
several nasty looking gashes. He was engaged now more in defence and Remus
could see that the human within the wolf was controlling that part. If the wolf
had of been in control of Longtooth then with wounds and the rampant aggression
from Greyback, he would have gone to ground, exposing throat and belly in
submission... And Greyback would have then proceeded to rip both out and no
doubt Longtooth's human side knew that which was why he was continuing to
attempt to fight, even with his wounds.
       It had been a long time since Remus had seen or even dreamed of
Greyback. He really was a magnificent specimen of wolf. His coat was grey,
dappled in places and tending towards what was a beautiful silver along his
back, giving him his name. His age showed in the silver that was gathering
about his blood-splattered muzzle, but age had not slowed his reaction time.
After taking in the situation, Remus didn't hesitate, jumping into the air with
the intention of coming down on Greyback's back. Longtooth saw the movement and
tried to help, stilling for a moment so that Greyback was also relatively
stationary.
       Remus landed, his claws scrambling against Fenrir's pelt in an effort to
gain traction. His jaw was biting and ripping but Greyback was experienced and
after half a heartbeat of shock he jumped, arching his back and twisting to
drive Remus from him. The two werewolves snarled and barked at each other.
There might have been the slightest twinge of recognition between the wolves,
father to son, but neither wolf felt the slightest crumb of affection for the
other. Black burning hatred was what defined their relationship and would
define the battle now. Longtooth disappeared, retreating into the trees,
realising he was defeated.
       Lupin had been expecting the counter and had jumped as well as he could,
driving his paws into Greyback's back with his claws digging as much as he
could. He landed lightly under the trees again, and sunk his hind claws into
the rich loam. It felt good under his paws. He and Greyback circled each other,
ears laid back, teeth bared and lips drawn back threateningly. If there was any
sign that Greyback didn't really want to kill him, Remus couldn't see it. All
human desires and restraints were locked away by the wolf. Physically, Greyback
was a little taller and quite a bit more built;, not enough that Remus' wolf
felt inferior, but perhaps it offered an alternative fighting method. Greyback
excelled in close fighting and while Remus was adept, a more open fight would
suit him. He was not the lightest built of wolves, but he could jump with the
best of them. With that in mind, he sprang toward his foe.
       Fenrir's experience showed. He braced himself, digging all four of his
paws into the ground as he snarled, his head tracking Remus. Lupin missed on
his first jump, and quickly scrambled away. He needed to come down squarely on
Fenrir's back or else the larger wolf would shake him off. Greyback was quick
to react and spun, attempting to close the distance but Lupin was wary and had
already leapt way.
       They circled each other again, snarling. Attack plans formed in Remus's
mind but he discarded them all. For all his other faults, Fenrir was not a weak
werewolf and his instincts were strong. Remus was reasonably sure he could
outfight him but that would take time and he'd most likely be injured. The pain
didn't concern him but they were at war; he could not afford to be injured at a
time when the Werewolves were just beginning to fight.
       Greyback took the initiative this time, leaping with teeth bared towards
Remus who was forced to respond in kind, jumping towards the other werewolf.
They meet in a tangle of failing limbs and snapping jaws and Lupin felt one of
his hind paws catch itself in Fenrir's abdomen. Instinct pushed his claws
forward and dragged his leg down, tracing as deep a wound as he could through
the other werewolf's gut and down one hind leg, even as Greyback twisted away.
They separated when they landed and canine eyes flicked over the wound. It
bled, but it was not deep and Remus felt a cold pull of shock through him when
it began healing. As he watched, the blood flow stopped and the sides of the
wound began reaching towards each other to seal it. The wizard werewolf had
seen wounds healed by magic before but this was not natural. This was beyond a
werewolf's normal healing.
       Why hadn't anyone noticed?
       Remus snarled, his growl echoing with hatred as his answer came to him.
Fenrir had always been in the thick of battle, moving, twisting, biting and
clawing. He'd come away scratched, but never with devastating wounds and in the
churning movement of battle, no one would have noticed the extra healing. They
would have thought him lucky, but it was obvious that someone had augmented his
already accelerated werewolf healing ability. The human side of Lupin's mind
accepted the information and began planning while the werewolf within him
howled its hatred. It didn't care, it just wanted to make the other werewolf
hurt.
       The rule of thumb when fighting those with accelerated healing was to
kill them quickly. Usually they could not heal fatal wounds fast enough and
from observation it seemed as if Fenrir was no exception. The other rule was to
go for tendons and ligaments. Flesh wounds were well and good for using energy,
but snap a tendon and no matter how fast their healing, they were down for a
little while. It took time to reform and stretch them into position. Not to
mention the pain it caused. Accelerated healing did not mean that one did not
suffer pain. That made his plan of attack simple: hamstring and go for the
throat. But since that was pretty much what Greyback was attempting to do to
him, how did he distract the other werewolf long enough to strike?
       Lupin considered the ground. The easiest distraction would be to claw
dirt into Fenrir's eyes, but the clearing they had chosen to fight in was well
grassed and the soil was moist. It could be scratched into the air, but it
would clump and would not be sufficiently fine to be a distraction. Their
clothing was scattered around the edge of the clearing and while one of their
loose robes would be suitable, Remus didn't think he could fling it properly
without tangling himself in it and the angles would be all wrong if he ran
towards them. He'd have to raise it up over him or turn around somehow... He'd
definitely tangle himself before he snared Greyback.
       Fenrir leapt at him, jaws wide to show off an impressive array of teeth
and claws to the forefront. Remus jumped over the larger werewolf, still
considering his options. He couldn't use their robes but his wand was in one
set... He was a magical being and he knew a few spells well enough to cast them
voicelessly... was it even possible? His opponent turned with impressive speed,
driving one rear paw into the ground as a pivot and Remus was forced to spring
back again as Greyback pressed his attack. The blue moon had obviously
increased his power and aggression and he was all teeth and claws and snarls in
the silver light.
       As Remus leaped again, trying to land on Fenrir's back, he dismissed
using his wand. It would be a last resort if nothing else worked. Lupin wasn't
worried about damage to his wand. It had been with him through almost every
transformation since the other Marauders had cast a whole gamut of protection
charms on it. But he didn't really want to risk his life on something
completely untried. He might be able to cast a charm, he might not, and finding
out now was not the best option.
       There was one sure way of getting a shot at Fenrir, though it would
leave him injured. He didn't want to be injured at this early juncture, but
with Fenrir's accelerated healing, even if Remus could outfight him with his
human mind, he may not be able to outlast the other werewolf.
       Remus snarled, teeth bared, ears laid flat, his tail high and bristling.
His human mind made no effort to restrain the wolf's hatred. If he couldn't
land properly on Fenrir, then he would just have to go with Greyback's
specialty and out fight him quickly. The longer he delayed the harder it would
be.
       Greyback took up the challenge, growling back, and Remus could detect no
hint of weakness in the other werewolf. Whomever had cast the charm to
accelerate healing knew what they were doing and it was causing no overt
adverse effects. Not surprising given the list of possible casters was rather
short, and no one had ever accused the Dark Lord of being unskilled. Uncouth,
inconsiderate, amoral, and all associated adjectives for being indecent, but
unskilled, never.
       As the two werewolves leaped at each other, Lupin braced himself not
only for the shock of their meeting, but also for what he had to do. He was
detached as he watched himself raising high one foreleg with the pastern curled
beside his forearm. With a flick of his tail he twisted in mid-air, spinning so
that his curled foreleg was high and his jaws were lower. The thought to box
Fenrir's throat with his leg was dismissed as soon as it occurred. It would
work but it would only be a temporary distraction to the other werewolf and so
he went with his original plan, wincing as he deliberately jammed his forearm
into Fenrir's open jaw.
       Greyback was surprised for an instant at getting such a good grip, but
Remus was ready when the larger werewolf bit down. He ignored the pain,
something his wolf would not have been able to do alone, as he twisted further
getting his back and withers over Fenrir's forelegs and going for the throat.
They were falling now, their momentum ended and the ground fast approaching and
Lupin felt Fenrir's jaws tighten in anticipation. He didn't want to relinquish
Remus' foreleg even after they landed. Inwardly the human werewolf smiled and
made his move.
       Everything changed.
       Remus smelled and tasted blood in his mouth and unlike the almost
ceremonial grip he'd taken on Blackpelt, he clamped his jaws around Fenrir's
throat as hard as he could, angling himself so that he would land on his back
but still be able to grip. Though still possessing a wolf's mind, Greyback
instantly knew what happened. He'd been distracted by Lupin's leg in his mouth
and had sought to wound, never realising the other wolf was going for the kill.
His legs slammed into Remus's side as he tried to get a paw between them to
push Lupin away. Remus tensed, pulling himself upward towards the grey
werewolf, his free foreleg braced against Fenrir's chest and his hind legs
scrambling in the air. He ground his jaws when he hit the ground with shocking
force, his mind blanking as the torn grass dug through his pelt.
       Fenrir landed on all fours but was dragged down by the extra weight of
Remus. He released Lupin's leg as he continued to struggle. The smaller
werewolf held on grimly, not trusting his weight to his now damaged leg.
Instead he used his front legs as much as he could, pressing his injured one
upwards on Greyback's lower jaw, keeping the larger werewolf's mouth closed. He
felt Fenrir's claws trying to gain purchase against his rib cage and twisted
his hind legs, attempting to dig his claws into the dirt. Blood trickled into
his mouth and the wolf responded powerfully. He wanted nothing more than to
pull back, but with Fenrir struggling, he couldn't get his feet under him.
Remus was confident, though. He had the throat, all it would take now was time
and Greyback, of human mind or wolf, knew it.
       Desperate and unable to get purchase on the younger werewolf, Greyback
jumped, hoping that the movement would loosen the grip on his throat. The move
allowed him to arch his back, driving his hind legs into the rib cage of the
other werewolf, but before he could push he felt Lupin's hind legs barrel into
him from the side. Greyback growled as they landed, his strength fading, and he
sank to down, not quite on his belly yet. Lupin scrambled at him scratching the
underside of his jaws, but Fenrir didn't even feel it. He was still upside
down, but Remus could sense that the dappled grey werewolf was weakening. The
realisation that he was beaten was slowly coming to the older werewolf.
       As Remus felt Greyback quiver, he closed his eyes, drawing his lips back
and preparing. With a savage growl, he let the wolf take over, shifting his
grip. He clamped his jaws closed around Fenrir's windpipe and drove his fangs
into the arteries of his neck. Lupin jerked his head back, feeling flesh rip
beneath his teeth, hot blood scenting the air and splattering to the ground.
Remus scrambled back and rose, careful not to rest his weight on his bitten
foreleg. He had to see if the grey werewolf's accelerated healing could handle
having his throat torn out. And if it did, he'd have to risk magic.
       Greyback seemed to choke and blood flowed out of his mouth, though Remus
could see that the wounds inflicted on his arteries were healing superficially.
The grey werewolf's forelegs were bent and he was resting on his pasterns. His
tail was lashing the air and as Remus watched, he could see the flesh on
Fenrir's neck try to tie itself together but somehow it couldn't grip the other
side of the wound. Inwardly he felt himself breathe a sigh of relief. The
arteries had healed of necessity because he hadn't been able to rip open large
enough holes, but the trachea was torn and broken. He really didn't want to
test his ability to use magic, not in such a battle. Greyback was strong
though, and even missing most of his throat he was taking a long time dying.
His eyes, the coal black eyes of his werewolf, latched onto Remus and burned,
even now with hatred and Lupin allowed his brown eyes to stare back flatly as
Greyback struggled to his feet. It should not have been possible but the
smaller werewolf accepted it and tensed, his legs stiff and tail alert. He
shouldn't have worried. Fenrir crashed back into the ground but Remus took no
chances darted around the larger werewolf to attack from behind, his jaws
snapping as he went for Fenrir's hamstring. If the other werewolf recovered,
that should impede movement. Pain blossomed in his injured leg, but Remus'
human mind pushed it aside and he jumped, further attacking as he'd meant to.
       He landed on the silver werewolf's back and they both crashed into the
ground as Fenrir's remaining three legs twitched, trying and failing to push
the dappled grey werewolf into a standing position. Remus didn't care, snarling
as he gripped his jaws around the scruff of the grey werewolf's neck. He braced
himself and shook, dragging Fenrir through the dirt. Blood from Fenrir's throat
splattered around them but instinct was in control now and Lupin's wolf just
wanted the kill.
       With deliberate aggression Remus felt himself jerk, reclamping his jaws
though Fenrir's thick pelt with each movement until he felt the other wolf's
back bone. With a growl, he bit down as hard as he could. He felt the bones
grind under his teeth and the sound spurred him further; he kept the pressure
on.
       When the break came, it was all at once with a resounding snap. The
bones separated and the great silver werewolf beneath him became a dead weight.
Remus was almost dragged down but he released his burden, jumping away, ready
to attack, just to be sure.
       He was breathing hard, his heart hammering in his chest and his blood
roaring in his ears. Unconsciously, he narrowed brown eyes as he looked towards
Greyback. The larger werewolf was slumped, his tongue extended almost stupidly
from his jaws and his fangs stained red with his own blood. The yellow eyes
were glazed but they unerringly were fixed to him. The silver chest was
motionless and Lupin could see the wound in the great throat was still
unhealed. There was not a lot of blood around the wound at the back of
Greyback's neck but it was enough to show the savagery of the attack. His legs
were under him and if not for the blood it would almost be as if the larger
werewolf was resting, but Fenrir was dead.
       Remus drew a shuddering breath an instant before he collapsed, his
wounded leg no longer able to support him. It didn't matter. He didn't care and
he had to remind himself forcefully to breathe again. He had been prepared for
victory, he had been prepared to be wounded, but nothing could prepare him for
the sheer sense of relief he felt. The weight that had lifted from him was
something he hadn't even been aware had been crushing down upon him. Now that
it was gone it was...it was incredible. He felt weightless, despite the fact he
was lying on the ground, twigs digging into his pelt.
       He felt... He felt free!
       After so many years, he felt free. He was still a werewolf, he would
always be one, but the monster whom had infected him, the monster who would
have led all werewolves to be mindless savage beasts was dead. There would not
be another like him, another bitten for no other reason than to cause pain. It
was...it was unbelievable and the werewolf swallowed unconsciously.
       Slowly, Remus raised his head and howled; anger, hatred, relief, victory
all encompassed in his voice. The noise faded and he gasped, the wolf in him
still growling in contentment. It felt lethargic now which was more than
unusual for a full moon but it was... The wolf didn't feel emotion as a wizard
did but it felt happy. Killing the one who created it was not the relief that
it was for Remus; the wolf was more content that it had killed one who had
dared to challenge.
       Lupin smiled. At least on this they were both happy and inwardly he
looked over his wolf as it rested, licking occasionally at its wounded leg.
This meant that he, both human and wolf aspect, was Pack Leader of the Isles
and that meant his life was about to get a lot busier. A new weight seemed to
settle on his shoulders but it was a glad weight. The care and wellbeing of the
werewolves on the Isles now rested with him. He could do nothing more than his
best for them and somehow, even in the midst of war, even with so many
conflicting desires calling for their attention, some to destroy them, some to
nurture them, Remus felt deep in his soul that everything would work out. The
path was not yet travelled, there would be difficulties that he, that no one
had foreseen, but everything, eventually would be fine.
       He raised his nose to the moon, baring his teeth as he howled again and
cockily his thoughts solidified.
       Bring it on!
===
       Draco stood in the centre of a classroom. It was way passed curfew but
he didn't care. Regardless of how anything else had turned out, he was still a
prefect and he'd placed a few runes and wards around the area so if anyone was
going to sneak up on him, he'd have some warning. Not that he expected anyone
to worry if he wasn't in bed for one night, even if it was a full moon.
Hopefully people would just assume he was off working on his Astronomy homework
or something. Who was he kidding? No one would care.
       They would.... They would all know to whom they should have listened.
       He'd pushed the desks aside and had drawn four complicated and
concentric circles on the stone floor. Not much magic called for such
preparation but he wanted to be sure that he got this right. The Solmemorate
charm had been in the book his mother had sent him. Near the end, naturally, in
the section that was for charms that could only be removed by their caster. Of
course there was no such thing as a completely unbreakable charm, no matter who
had cast it; just that what would have taken that slimy Gryffindork all of
three wand flicks, would take him significantly more effort. And that's why he
was here standing in the centre of a very complicated set of magical circles,
the ceiling covered in another complex charm that rendered a perfect
reproduction of the night sky. He needed the moon’s light for this to work.
Full moon, partial moon, it didn't matter, so long as the moon and star light
was clear and the only source. That's why he hadn't done this outside. The only
places he felt comfortable outside that were big enough for the magical circle
were either too public, in the Forbidden Forest, or had too much reflected
light from the castle in them. While this ceremony didn't require a full moon,
he'd left it to this moon, in the hopes that full moon would have more power.
       As he waited in the near complete darkness for the moon to rise, he cast
the strongest possible locking charms on the door and stripped off his robes.
The blond didn't really understand the reasoning behind why this counter charm
was meant to work, but the more of the moon’s light that he could get on his
skin the better. The light would hit the magic circle, which would do something
to it, before, by virtue of the fact he was in the centre, it would transfer
onto and into him. After the training his Mother had put him through this
summer, he understood a lot more of the theory behind magic, but this ceremony
was both so advanced and so simple that the workings of it eluded him. It was
something to do with both the transmutational and healing qualities of the
light of the moon. The transmutation came with the conversion of the magical
circle into power and the healing came with the ability of the magic to remove
the memory charm.
       Draco closed his grey eyes, focusing his power, drawing out his wings.
Compared to his mother's they were small, but they were stronger than they
looked. He'd been exercising with them as much as he could, which since they
removed him from the Quidditch captain position was more time than he thought
he'd have. He could almost fly on them now and he was looking forward to the
day he could.  He arched them high above his head before bringing them low and
tucking them about his body, enjoying the sensuous feeling of his own feathers
against his skin. As always when he allowed them out, he felt filled with power
and warmth.
       Before he could get too distracted, the clear light of the moon hit the
first path of the magic circle.
       Draco wasn't sure what he had expected to happen, but the outer ring of
the magic circle seeming to catch fire with blinding white light was not what
he'd been thinking. It was like magnesium burning, so brilliantly white that it
was almost blinding. The glyphs and runes he'd painstakingly drawn in were the
next to be bathed in the light of the moon. They were angular and sharp and
burned blue like copper before the next line of the circle lit up in brilliant
yellow. It was not silent; he could hear the hiss of fire, but he could not
smell anything burning. The next line of runes lit, red but different from the
others. They had no corners but were instead all curves and circles that
feathered their way towards him in the centre.
       Arms raised in supplication as the burning magical circle began spinning
and contracting, advancing upon him, the Malfoy Heir felt the exact moment the
swirling runes touched his feet and he couldn't help but stiffen. They didn't
just trace over his skin; they went inside, always spinning. It hurt. Draco
couldn't begin to say how much it hurt, but he refused to cry out. He felt his
magic reacting to the invader and struggled to keep it calm. It needed this. He
needed this! With one invading magic stream in him, he could feel the other
foreign presence. His magic had a yellow shade, the moon powered magic, despite
the myriad of colours it had burned was clear white and the invading stream,
the one that was locked around his memories and his ability to speak of them,
was green, but so brilliant a green that the word was not a valid description.
       The white energy began picking at the green and while Draco knew that it
wasn't alive, he couldn't help but feel it somehow knew what he was trying to
do. At first it did nothing but seemed to dig into his yellow deeper, then as
the white energy continued to pull at it, little tendrils of green rose off it
and began attacking back. None of this was physically happening it was all a
representation in his mind. Physically Draco was trying not to feel his body.
The white light of the magic circle was now inscribed over his entire body,
moving, churning and it was agony. It burned.  The moon's light, which was
meant to be soft and gentle and cooling, was burning, worse than the sun. It
spun within him and there was nothing he could do but endure.
       Slowly the white energy began surrounding the green threads, working its
way between the green and yellow. A few of the green threads snapped, and
turned black like shadow, but they did not reconnect. With every one that
snapped, Draco felt lighter. He could feel the power of the charm the smarmy
Gryffindork had left on him weakening.
       He was gasping and his wings were trembling with the strain, but Draco
gritted his teeth and allowed the magic to continue. He clawed at his throat,
trying to remove the invisible strings cutting into his neck but there was
nothing and his fingers gouged into flesh, marking but not breaking his skin.
He tried directing his magic to help but he wasn't sure if it worked as he fell
to his knees, one hand going forward to prevent him falling on his nose, the
other still grasping futility at his throat.
       Draco dragged air down his throat, his chest heaving. It was painful
beyond anything he had ever felt and through the pain he could feel his hatred
for a certain wizard growing. He and his mother had focused on destroying the
Serpent Lord, but they would have to go through that supposed paragon of Light,
and on that day.... After this, he was well looking forward to that day because
he didn't think that Gryffindork would allow the Serpent Lord to fall without
interfering. It would be a sweet, sweet day.
       But it was a day that would not be today.
       Draco continued gasping, even as his arm gave out and he crashed
completely to the ground, his head turned to the side and his wings arched
stiffly above him. All around him the magic lines that were now inscribed on
his body flared as the moon on the ceiling rose to its apex. He was so focused
on trying to breathe that he could barely feel the burning pain in his body. He
was grateful for the cool of the stone upon his skin. When the final green
thread that had been wrapped around his magic snapped, the relief was so great
he cried out. The burning stopped and the stone he was lying on became
uncomfortably cold and burnt his skin. Draco moaned, tasting blood as he
shifted slightly, sitting up and gathering his knees to his chest.
       He looked up at the sky, basking in the light of the moon that no longer
powered the circles before he closed his pale grey eyes and mentally poked at
his memories, making sure that everything had been freed. Predominantly he
remembered the conversation when that Gryffindor had dared to put that charm on
him. The Golden Boy had never actually said it, but it was clear his allegiance
was not with the Ministry or the Order or even on the side of Light. He was
firmly entrenched on the one side everyone expected him to fight. It didn't
matter if the Serpent Lord later betrayed the idiot; by the time that came, if
it ever did, the damage would be done.
       Draco wrapped his wings around him as he rose.  Apart from the fact no
one was willing to follow him, the problem was bigger than he had thought. Even
if he and his mother decided to support the Light, it would not work, not with
such a huge Trojan horse in their midst. One that no one was guarding against
because it was completely unthinkable. His mother had spoken during the summer
of some alternate plans, and as Draco dressed he realised that they would most
likely have to embrace one of those plans. It did them little good to gather
support if in the end they could not use it because the Light had been betrayed
and the Serpent Lord was ascendant. Could he warn the Light?
       The Malfoy Heir considered it before he ultimately dismissed it. There
were only a few who would believe him. The Vampire was one, but he was here
already because he doubted. Though perhaps now that he could talk to the
Vampire properly they could work together....
       That blasted Potter! Draco resisted the urge to scream. Everything that
Gryffindork did just confused the matter.
       He forced himself to breathe again, drawing the air slowly into his
lungs, dusting off his robes as dispelled the charm he'd used to duplicate the
night sky. Then he banished the circles. He needed to think further and he
needed to find out exactly how strong the blasted Gryffindor was. He may no
longer be the Quidditch Captain but he was still the Seeker. The game would
give him the opportunity to test the false Golden Boy. After that.... After
that he would have a better idea of what was the best path.
       For now, he needed to sleep. Tomorrow was a new day to consider things.
===              
             
      
***** After the Blue Moon *****
Weapon
Chapter 35 After the Blue Moon
       Harry pressed his hands into the steaming cup of tea that he held. The
warmth was a welcome respite. Outside, the weather had turned nasty and rain
was lashing the small hut and the castle of Hogwarts that it sheltered near.
There was more than a hint of ice in the rain and the weather was turning into
winter. They didn't have snow yet, but it was just a matter of time.
       Hagrid was beaming at him, puttering around as he laid out tea cakes and
rock cakes and a few things Harry didn't even want to have a guess at what they
were. The young man had seen his friend over the course of the year, but this
was the first time he'd had enough time to come and visit him. Not that Hagrid
cared; Hagrid was always so understanding and right at the moment he was
absolutely ecstatic that Harry had come to talk to him about his Care of
Magical Creatures Mastery. Fang was asleep beside Hagrid's chair. The great
wolf hound was looking rather tired lately.
       "Four Masteries!" Hagrid exclaimed. "Your mum and dad would be so
proud!"
       "I hope so," Harry agreed, taking a small sip of tea from the large cup.
He felt the warmth travel down his throat and settle in his belly, spreading
outwards, making him feel more aware.
       The half-Giant just smiled as he sat down. "They are," he assured Harry.
"I don't see how they could be anything but proud of you."
       Harry flushed and nodded and took another sip of tea. "It's enjoyable,"
he said, sweeping one hand through his hair. "I know Charms and
Transfiguration, but I guess until I really looked into it, I didn't realise
there was so much to them. So I'm learning so much!" The fact that Harry had
the Dark Lord's knowledge was not to be known among many wizards. His friends
knew, Harry was fairly sure the Chief Examiner had was aware of it, and some in
the Ministry knew; the rest of the wizarding world were just in AWE of his
results.
       "So proud," Hagrid said again while Fang snuffled, chasing rabbits in
his sleep.
       Harry smiled. "I actually wanted to ask you about something," he said
finally, after a few more sips of tea.
       "Oh?"
       "I'm doing Care of Magical Creatures," Harry began somewhat stupidly.
The entire world knew exactly what Masteries he was doing. There was no way
Hagrid didn't already know this.
       "And it warms my heart that you are!" The groundskeeper said. "Me first
student to go on to further education in a class I taught!" Pride echoed
through his voice.
       "I wanted to know if you had any suggestions about what type of creature
I could do for my thesis paper?"
       Hagrid's eyes went as large as dinner plates before he whipped out his
hanky and began dabbing at them, sobbing almost uncontrollably. "You...you
wanted to...ask me!?"
       Harry nodded and then finished most of his tea while the half-Giant got
himself under control, sniffing happily into his hanky. "What did you want to
know?" he asked finally.
       "I have to write a thesis about some creature," Harry began. "And they
gave me a suggested list but it's...it's boring!" Harry had never thought he
shared Hagrid's taste for dangerous creatures, but when he looked at the
suggested list of creatures, he'd been horrified. "The only thing of interest
they had on there was a cockatrice, but that's too close to a basilisk and
given what's happening this year with the Dark Lord..." he trailed off as
Hagrid nodded.
       "I seen the list," Hagrid agreed. "Not your list obviously, but I've
seen the list. All of them creatures so over-studied that it's a wonder anyone
passes!"
       "Yeah, so that's why I was wondering if you have any ideas about
alternate creatures?"
       For a moment Harry thought Hagrid might be incapable of answering, he
looked so happy. Then he seemed to gather himself.
       "I can't study a dragon," the young wizard said nervously, fully
expecting Hagrid to suggest it.
       Hagrid smiled almost wistfully but nodded, obviously deep in thought.
       "And I would prefer not an acromantula," Harry added. Actually that
wasn't prefer; there was no way he could study an acromantula even if he was
inclined to do so, not with Xaos sleeping inside him. Even hidden, the killer
spiders would feel him and would know something wasn't right with the wizard.
Harry could not afford suspicion to be raised that way.
       Again Hagrid nodded and Harry felt a slight stir of worry. The
groundskeeper was agreeing far too readily in the removal of some dangerous
creatures from his study list. "What about a Siberian Ice Owl?"
       The young man frowned. "What's that?" One of the reasons he'd chosen to
do make Care of Magical Creatures one of his Masteries was that the Lord
Voldemort's knowledge of magical creatures tended to be limited to how to use
them in potions. He knew about the more dangerous creatures and probably no one
knew more about basilisks, but there were others he dismissed as weak and
unnecessary. He wouldn't exterminate them because they were magical, but he
wouldn't pay attention to them.
       Hagrid looked at him, slightly surprised. "Ye had one, Hedwig."
       Harry blinked and for a moment felt nothing before the sorrow of
Hedgwig's death came back to him. It wasn't quite the same as when he'd passed
by the Owlery in Diagon Alley, but it was close. No matter that he knew that
her spirit lived on, he still missed her. He raised one hand to his face and
wiped away tears as he shook his head. "I can't," Harry managed to choke out
and the large man nodded in understanding. Harry resisted the urge to unwrap
the part of his mind where Xaos resided and to hug the basilisk for comfort. It
would be selfish and risky and disrespectful of Hedwig's sacrifice if he was so
weak as to risk his hiding place because he was feeling sorry for himself.
       The half-Giant's information answered quite a few questions. He'd known
that Hedwig wasn't a snowy owl. Her ability to fight was testament to that and
he wondered if the Siberian Ice Owl was really an owl or that tag was for
convenience? It didn't matter.
       "I understand," Hagrid said before thinking again. "What about a
Mizuchi?"
       "Hagrid!" Harry chided, feeling the sorrow lift and he was thankful for
the other man's efforts when he saw the sly smile. "No dragons! No matter which
language you use!"
       "Can't blame a man for trying. Hmm, what else is there?"
       "They probably won't want me to do a Manticore or a Chimera either,"
Harry suggested wisely, downing the last of his tea.
       Hsgrid refilled his cup before speaking. "What about a Salamandar?" He
suggested and Harry was surprised. That had definitely turned down the danger
level in the suggestion.
       The younger wizard shook his head. "I can't be tending a fire all year."
       "An Occamy?"
       "Wrong climate," came the objection and Hagrid nodded.
       "Nogtail?"
       "Boring."
       The large man laughed as he sat down. That was what he had thought about
those things too, but there were only so many animals that were practical for
study.
       "I wonder if I should ask Luna if she'd mind if I did a Crumple-horned
Snolack?"
       "You'd have to catch one first and she might be a little jealous if you
got the recognition for discovering them," Hagrid said easily. "I suppose you
could look at some animal that's also good for transportation, like a
Thestral."
       "That's got some possibilities," Harry said. "You are right, though; at
least I'd have some transport. I like Thestrals well enough, but is there
anything else I could study?"
       "Unicorn?"
       "I'm not a virgin," Harry admitted without the slightest trace of
discomfort.
       "That would be a problem," the half-Giant admitted. "Most of the other
large flying horses or hippogriffs aren't really that interesting. There is
some minor use for potions and sometimes for wands but in general a flying
horse is like its wingless Muggle counterpart. There's a few more injuries they
can get with the wings, but normally nothing that needs to be dealt with by
magic. You've seen Hippogriffs and while they are great creatures, they aren't
really special enough for your thesis. I'd go with a Thestral if I was going
with a transport animal."
       "At least they have some obviously magical properties... Though how does
a flying horse really keep itself aloft? Those wings don't seem big enough."
       "They have some magic," Hagrid said, "And that mostly goes towards
keeping them aloft." The large man shrugged. "It's been fairly well studied."
       Harry sighed, but he smiled at his friend. "I never thought picking out
a creature to study would be this hard," he said. "I think I'll go with a
Thestral," he confirmed with sudden surety. "Could you introduce me to the
Hogwarts herd? It would be better if I can make a relationship with one." Luna
had shown him some of them, but it was Hagrid's job to keep them well fed and
to harness them up each year to the carriages. He knew which animals were
gentle, which were more aggressive, and which would be happier to work with him
and Harry knew he'd need to be working with a co-operative animal if he was to
get any decent results.
       Hagrid beamed and nodded. "I'll introduce you sometime next week?"
       "That would be brilliant. Thanks, Hagrid!" Harry grinned before he
frowned. There was a weight in the air and a prickling on the back of his neck.
Hagrid didn't seem to sense it but Harry did. It was trying to be soft and
gentle, subtle to avoid detection, but there had been a spike of interest and
that is what had triggered his senses. He'd felt his before, he knew the
presence it represented, and Harry felt his eyes burn.
       Xeoaph.
       The vampire was truly testing the limits of his patience with his
actions. It appeared he would need to have words with the vampire very soon
because this constant attention was getting on his nerves and he would not be
continually doubted by a being he should destroy. It appeared Xeoaph had rather
conveniently forgotten his duplicity in Harry's past. Perhaps it was time to
remind him?
       Harry smiled at Hagrid, pretending nothing was wrong as they continued
to chat, discussing aspects of Thestral life that might best be studied. The
half-Giant was enamoured of Dumbledore, but he was one of the few people who
truly did care for Harry's wellbeing and Harry hoped he would remain safe this
year. He'd mourn of course if Hagrid died, but he couldn't take any special
precautions to ensure his friend's safety.
       He couldn't take precautions for anyone though he would be taking
special pains to make sure certain people died. The survival of others was down
to them.
===
       Voldemort looked up at the moon, his robes hanging still around him. The
light was gentle and bathed the land in a soft white glow. The moon was full, a
blue moon in November. The air was cool but lacked the true chill of winter and
the manor below him was dark and quiet.
       The Malfoy Manor. The place where his basilisks were being held, where
Xir had died.
       "It doesn't look like your sister is home to greet you," Voldemort
murmured, looking back over his shoulder.
       Bellatrix and Dolohov were with him, both standing quietly as they
waited.
       "She's not my sister."
       "I know, but why don't you let us in?" The Dark Lord suggested.
       "With pleasure," Bellatrix smiled. While she had been in Azkaban her
Lord had changed, policy had altered, but there were some things which remained
the same. She didn't know who or what the unknown power was and there had never
been the opportunity to ask her Lord so for the moment she was waiting. She
would judge in time but for now she would follow. Her Lord was still the best
way forward.
       Slowly Bellatrix raised her hands, reaching out to the warding. It had
been years but during her Lord's first rise, the Death Eaters had all altered
their warding so that loyal followers could find safe havens but they, as
sisters, had gone a bit further and had coded each other's magic into the
houses' wardings. It was not easily undone and it was likely that Narcissa had
never bothered to remove her from the manor's warding.
       Her magic linked in with the wards and Bellatrix smiled as she opened up
the main gate. She didn't know where her supposed sister was but she didn't
care. The memory had been exposed in Azkaban and it had not been a good one.
She was insulted that her branch of the Blacks had been so desperate that they
accepted an outsider, no matter how much they had been paid and she intended to
restore their honour personally! Even Andromeda marrying that mudblood was less
of an insult!
       "Very good, Bellatrix," Voldemort complimented her as he began walking
towards the gate.
       Bellatrix followed with Dolohov and they passed through without a
whisper of magic, walking into the manor as if they owned the place. The witch
suppressed a chuckle. If Narcissa and Draco died, then while the inheritance
lines were a little murky she stood to inherit quite a bit of the Malfoy
fortune. Combined with the LeStrange wealth, she would be one of the wealthiest
witches in not just the Isles, but the world. All of which meant nothing to her
but it was nice to know.
       The Dark Lord moved confidently through the house, quick and sure, as he
led them through several corridors and into wings of the large manor that
Bellatrix was not familiar with. Finally he stopped at a small door and ran one
white hand down the centre join. Runes lit up under his hand, responding to his
magic.
       "Oh Narcissa," Voldemort said, his voice sad, "I thought I'd taught you
better than that." There was a flare of magic and the runes burnt their way
into the wood before vanishing and the Dark Lord's white hand pushed the door
open.
       "Close your eyes," he warned Dolohov and Bellatrix as he stepped
forward, his words turning into a hiss.
       Bellatrix shared a long look with Dolohov before they both closed their
eyes. Beyond opening the wards, neither of them had been called upon and they
were unsure of what their Lord wanted with their presence.
       The Dark Lord hissed low in his throat, the noise comforting as Xatarass
laced his voice. –My children, my cousins, my blood, come to me, I will protect
you.-
       -We...we are here.-
       Red eyes snapped around the room, looking everywhere, seeing everything
in the darkened room. –Xentor.-
       -I am here.-
       Voldemort flicked his wand through several charms lighting the room with
a soft gentle light. The pit became visible and the Dark Lord looked down at
the three serpents who were within it. The two smaller ones were twined around
the larger and he breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that they were
relatively unharmed. A little underfed, but otherwise hale. Another flick of
his wand, and he levitated the serpents out of the pit, gently putting them on
the ground next to it. Xuld hissed softly, rapidly unwinding from Xentor to
slither over to Voldemort and curl up on him. Xatarass whispered his comfort to
the smaller serpent, Xir had been her father, and Voldemort held still for the
few moments it took for her to coil around his shoulders and waist.
       -There are two wizards outside,- Voldemort hissed, -will you need help?-
he asked the other two serpents, expressing a concern for their welfare that he
would never show any Death Eater. Xentor was too large to be carried but Xal
could be assisted that way.
       -I can make it,- Xentor replied gently, nudging Xal. The other serpent
was drooping and with a flick of his wand Voldemort levitated the smaller
serpent and draped her over Dolohov. To his credit the older wizard remained
still, though the Dark Lord had detected his slight surprise when Xal's cold
skin had touched him.
       -Tell him to open his eyes,- Xal requested as she closed her own. –I
would rather my transport not run into anything.-
       Voldemort smiled, making his way back into the corridor with Xentor
following close behind him.
       "You may open your eyes," the Dark Lord told his two followers who had
waited at the door and he was pleased that both obeyed instantly, looking
around a small amount to spot the serpents that were now with them. They had
all closed their eyes, though Xentor was close enough behind the Dark Lord that
he probably had not needed to. Still, he was comforted by the presence of
Xatarass.
       "Let's go," the Dark Lord commanded and together the six of them left
the Malfoy Manor, apparating back to Voldemort's stronghold as soon as they
were clear of the wards.
===
       Harry blinked in the thin dawn light as he ran though the movements of
the sword dance that Snape had taught him this summer. It was too cold outside
so he was in the Room of Requirement and it was configured as if he was
standing beside the lake on an early summer morning. He liked practicing in
early mornings because it gave him the chance to talk to his servants without
Fawkes overhearing. It was the only way he could keep track of things.
       "How are things going?" he asked the Shadows.
       :Quite well,: they replied.
       "Details?"
       :Whom would you like to know about?:
       "Remus?" Harry swung the Sword of Gryffindor through a long arc,
spinning as he did so.
       :He won, though he may have a broken arm. He'll try to see the Minister
sometime soon, but he won't be successful.:
       "Ah, always honourable," Harry sighed. He had expected nothing else from
Remus and would be ready when the Werewolf Pack Leader came to him. "Can we fix
his arm?"
       :Not until he comes to us,: the Shadows said gently.
       "How is Snape?" Harry asked twisting his wrist left and right as he spun
the sword around his body.
       :Recovering. It will be a few days yet before he regains consciousness.:
       "Voldemort doesn't mess around, does he?"
       :No, he doesn't. His directness is rather charming,: the Shadows agreed,
and Harry could hear the smile.
       "Should I see him?"
       :Not yet. It would be best if we let Snape get used to the idea first.:
       "So what about the vampire?"
       :He's more difficult. He is watching you and he does know the truth; he
just can't prove it and he knows that without proof, he can't say a word.:
       "Can we get rid of him?" Harry asked, snapping the sword through a
series of vicious thrusts, drawing his wand with his other hand and
accompanying the movement with bright red stunner spells.
       :Unfortunately not. With Kisha at Voldemort's side, we really don't want
the vampire going somewhere we can't follow, though we are working on
discrediting them.:
       "Oh?" Harry's voice was laced with interest.
       :We had Sirius kill a few ruffians and make it look like a vampire
killed them. The Ministry found them, but not before they were seen and the
rumour is currently running rife through the wizarding households.:
       The wizard chuckled, sheathing his sword, and he shifted to the dagger
motions, full of quick slashes and thrusts. He was particularly good at these.
       "How is Voldemort?"
       The Shadows were silent for a moment before they answered. :Doing fine.
You've seen the attacks so you know he's still progressing and he retrieved the
Basilisks from Malfoy Manor last night.:
       "Is there really no faster way?"
       :You could win at Christmas if you want to spend the next few years
chasing down brigands. Be patient master, let all the players come forward, let
all of them declare themselves so that they may be dealt with.:
       "Who's left to come forward?"
       :We don't know. Maybe no one, but even so a year is what we said it
would take; a year is what it will take unless a drawn out war is what you want
on the Isles.:
       "No," Harry sighed. "I don't want a war. I just wish there was an easier
way. It's only been five months, but I'm already tired of the charade."
       :We know, Master, we know. Endure it because we do not lie; this really
is the way that it must be.:
       "I could hunt down any dissidents," Harry objected.
       :Yes, you have more than enough power to do that. If it was just about
power, we'd be with you, Master, telling you to embrace your animagus form and
join with Voldemort and to obliterate anything in your path. But it's not about
power. You can't destroy what you don't know is against you and while we are
good, we can't find everyone.:
       Harry sighed, "Have you spoken to Voldemort about Fawkes?"
       :Not yet.:
       "Please do so, though I have an idea on how to deal with the Phoenix."
       :Hmm?:
       "I'm still working through the details, but I promise I won't try it
without talking to you about it," Harry gave them the assurance. They were
curious and they didn't want a repeat of his experimentation with his animagus
form, not on something as dangerous as destroying a phoenix.
       :Tell us!: the Shadows tried to sound wheedling.
       "I don't like getting an external party involved," Harry said.
       :If there is one thing that is true, they would only do what was asked
for, nothing more.:
       "That's not the point. You've already said that you aren't sure how
Ollivander will react when he finds out about me. How will another react?"
       The Shadows were silent and Harry continued. "You don't know. It might
be okay; they might only do what is asked, but they might decide I'm a
liability..."
       :Ollivander might decide that anyway,: the Shadows broke in.
       "If he does, I'm sure I can rely on you to help me make him regret it,"
Harry said with a smile, "But we don't know what might happen when we bring in
another party so if there's any possibility I can do it or even that we can
work out something, I'd like to at least consider that option."
       :So tell us,: the Shadows requested.
       Harry sighed again. "Dark can corrupt Light, and Light can redeem Dark
but what happens when there are two wizards proclaiming to be Dark Lords?"
       :They fight it out,: the Shadows said, beginning to grasp where their
master was heading.
       "Now that doesn't happen for Light, but it could."
       :It doesn't happen because for it to happen, one of them must become
Dark or at least Grey.:
       "So you are telling me that someone who is Light can't genuinely hate
another of the Light?"
       :We aren't saying that. In fact some of the strongest warriors of the
Light have been those who have recognised that they have hatred in their
emotions. It was how they controlled it that made them so strong.:
       "Nice save," Harry complimented them. "But I can't be corrupted because
you won't let that happen."
       :So you want to fight Fawkes?:
       "Dark can fight Dark and only one emerges. Why can't Light fight Light?"
       Harry sensed the Shadows blink before they seemed to take a deep breath.
:We'd still prefer to go the other way. We know it works. We know nothing about
this.:
       "Would it work?"
       :We don't know.:
       "I wouldn't be hurt though would I? At least not any worse than I could
be hurt fighting anything else."
       :Probably not,: the Shadows said after a long pause. :We need time to
think about this. Your concern is valid, Master. Bringing in another always has
risks, but it is known to work but... Your idea does have some merit. We just
aren't sure.:
       "Think about it please," Harry instructed as he mentally ran through a
list of questions he wanted the answers for. It was getting late and he should
be heading to breakfast shortly. "Ah! I almost forgot! How is my favourite
Slytherin?"
       The Shadows laughed. :We think he's taken to inventing new swear words.:
       "Oh?"
       :He broke your charm during the blue moon.:
       "So he knows the truth?"
       :Yes, but he like the Vampire is trapped without proof. Actually, Draco
has proof; it's in his mind. It's just incriminating to him as well.:
       "Will he strike?"
       :Not until he tests the waters.:
       Harry laughed. There was a note of deep satisfaction in his voice. "I'll
look forward to our game then," he said.
       :And we will look forward to his defeat,: the Shadows said happily
before they sighed, and Harry could detect a distinct note of reluctance from
them.
       "What is it?"
       :Master, there is one thing you must deal with now. One thing we know
you don't wish to.:
       "The girl."
       :We are well aware of your true feelings, but you must continue the
charade and she is harbouring doubts.:
       "Doubts are normal," Harry tried to object, already knowing that it
wasn't going to cut it.
       :Doubts are normal,: the Shadows agreed mildly. :But you are meant to be
destined and her doubts are a telegraph for others. Master, your act is almost
perfect, people believe what you want them to believe. Hers is not. If the
vampire can't find the proof he needs looking at you, he will look at her. TThe
same with Fawkes, and we absolutely cannot allow her to be Initiated into the
Order of the Phoenix.:
       Harry shuddered at the thought. One look into Ginny's mind with all her
knowledge and...well...at least he'd be back with Voldemort, but they would be
facing a rejuvenated Light. One seething with the anger of betrayal, and he'd
have no chance of saving any of his friends.
       "All right," he said tiredly. As they had said, they knew his
preference; they would not have brought this up unless it was a realistic
possibility. "I will take her to Hogsmeade, but won't the Order take that as a
further need to protect her?"
       :They will, but you are very much an exception to the rule, Master. They
will not Initiate her until she is seventeen and that will be too late.:
       "You'd better be sure about this."
       :We are. The Phoenix does not like exposing himself to an adolescent
mind. The emotions are too changeable.:
       Harry snorted. Fawkes had a lot of peeves.
       :Go to breakfast, Master. This month will be interesting.:
       "In more ways than one," Harry said as he exited the room, heading down
towards the Great Hall.
===
       Narcissa stood on the threshold. She had never intended to return here,
but as she had thought about her plans she had realised she had to. She only
hoped the wand maker didn't throw her out unconditionally. He might. He had
told her what he believed she needed to do and he had been very clear. The fact
that she had not agreed with his advice did not change his opinion, and when
she was honest with herself, she could see his point. She had made a binding
magical contract, but she had made it when she had not understood the
consequences. And so she was taking the only method she knew to break it.
       "Come in!" the voice sounded around her and she started but obeyed,
closing the door behind her as she took a few tentative steps into the shop.
       "What do you want?" Ollivander asked harshly.
       "I..."
       "I told you not to come back here."
       "I know," the blonde woman said, looking at the ground.
       "It's too late you know, even if you decided to honour your promise,
it's too late."
       "I know," Narcissa agreed again before she gathered herself, "But that
is not what I am here for. Even if I was inclined, I will not abandon my son."
       "So what do you want?" Silver eyes examined her closely, disappointment
lurking in their depths.
       Suddenly Narcissa wasn't sure what she wanted. All her certainty, all
her planning left her as she looked into the man's silver eyes and she went
with the thing she had intended to ask last. "Please give this to my mother."
       Ollivander took the folded parchment. "You do realise that if it's a
request to avenge you, I will be the hand that stops her?"
       "It isn't."
       The way the wand maker raised his eyebrow clearly spelled out his doubt,
but he gestured for her to continue.
       Narcissa took a deep breath to steady herself. "I need to know
something," she said finally.
       "What do you need to know?" There was almost an amused lilt in his tone.
       "Are all the sides defined?"
       Ollivander smiled. It was a very good question, one others should be
asking, but assumed. While Narcissa was doomed, it was nice to know she
retained at least some sense. "The sides are defined," he said.
       "Are all the players aligned?"
       "No."
       Narcissa's eyes closed and she turned her face to the ceiling as her
breath hissed between her teeth. "Who?" she whispered.
       "You know I can't tell you that."
       She looked back at him, her eyes dull. "Please?"
       "No. And if that is all you are here for, then it's time for you to go,"
Ollivander said sharply.
       The witch turned away. "Just make sure my mother gets that," she
murmured, reaching for the door.
       "I will."
       "I will not be back."
       "I know."
===
       Remus stood in a hallway of the Ministry. He was dressed in his best
robes and his arm ached, but that was nothing he couldn't handle himself.
Blackpelt stood beside him and the other werewolf's fidgeting was perversely
making it easier for Remus to seem calm. He would have liked to have Longtooth
with him, but the other werewolf was still recovering from the injuries Fenrir
had inflicted upon him.
       He had requested a meeting with the Minister though he didn't expect to
get one. For the sake of doing things lawfully, he felt he had to try. He
wanted to have the Werewolves ally with the Shadows, but he had to at least try
this first. He trusted Harry's servants, but they were an unknown path and many
of the werewolves would probably like to go on a path they at least had heard
of. The Dark Lord would no doubt persecute them, but going with the Shadows
meant that at least for a time, both the Dark and Light forces would persecute
them. Remus wasn't sure the werewolves were truly ready for the reality of such
a situation.
       They'd been waiting for a few hours, but Remus was patient. He would
wait all day, ignoring the looks he was getting from the witches and wizards
who were working in the Ministry.
       "This is getting nowhere," Blackpelt murmured when another witch made a
crude sign against evil.
       "Patience," Remus said softly. "We have to try this."
       "I don't see why. You want to go with the other option. You won, so all
you need to do is give the order."
       Lupin smiled. "The Dark Lord or the Ministry are both the known paths
with known dangers. Most of the pack would appreciate going along a known
pathway, though I suspect we will be going down the unknown because I won't be
going with the Dark Lord, even if this doesn't work."
       A Ministerial Aide walked up to them. The witch was young and was
obviously nervous. Remus smiled at her, trying to put the young witch at ease
though it didn't seem to work.
       "The Minister can't see you today," she said, though her voice was not
very apologetic. "If you could come back tomorrow..."
       "The Minister does know who I represent?" Remus asked, trying to keep
his voice level.
       "Of course!" the young witch objected. "You are a werewolf."
       "No, child," Remus informed her coldly. "I am the Pack Leader of the
Isles."
       "The what?" she questioned, clearly not understanding.
       "The Pack Leader of the Isles," Lupin repeated.
       "I would suggest you come back tomorrow, or make an appointment with the
Senior Secretary."
       "This is getting nowhere," Blackpelt repeated loud enough to be heard.
       "I do not see why a werewolf should be granted an appointment with the
Minister," the witch snarled.
       "That's it," Blackpelt growled. "Pack Leader, we should leave. There are
better offers for us than the Ministry."
       "Oh, are there?"
       Remus turned to see Dumbledore and Xeoaph walking down the hall towards
the Minister's office. It was the vampire who had spoken.
       "There are," Remus said. "I think you are correct," he said to
Blackpelt. "Let's go."
       "Remus?" Dumbledore questioned, ignoring the way the young witch was
looking at him.
       "Albus," Lupin greeted the old wizard.
       "What are you doing here?"
       "Albus," there was exasperation in Remus' tone. "I'm here for the
Werewolves."
       "You have no official capacity though. You told me that yourself."
       "As of the last full moon, I have official capacity."
       "Then you should have seen me."
       "Albus," Remus said with infinite patience, as if he shouldn't have to
be explaining this at all. "I will continue to help the Order, but Albus you
aren't the Ministry. You can't give the Werewolves the laws the Minister can,
and so I've chosen to try to see the Minister."
       "The Werewolves could have worked with us."
       Remus chuckled. "No, we can't, and I've already explained why."
       "Ah, the ancient enmity you persist in displaying?" Xeoaph said softly,
breaking his silence.
       "As do you, every chance you get."
       "Now, now," Dumbledore said placatingly. "I'm sure we could work
something out."
       "We will work nothing out while you stand beside that murderer,"
Blackpelt snarled as Remus tried to shush him.
       Before anything else could be said another aide came up to them. "The
Minister will see you now," the wizard said.
       "Ah, Nathaniel," Dumbledore greeted the wizard, "I expected Percy."
       "Percy is on a mission," Nathaniel told them, gesturing for Dumbledore
and Xeoaph to proceed him further down the hallway, towards the Minister's
office.
       "Remus, we will talk later," Dumbledore said, looking towards the
Marauder Werewolf.
       "We will, Albus," Remus agreed. "But not about the Werewolves," he added
before turning to Blackpelt, "Let's go, we have another meeting to arrange."
       "Finally!" the Muggleborn werewolf said with a smile.
       As Remus made his way down the corridor, he was sad. He had suspected
that this would be the outcome, but somewhere deep inside, he had hoped to be
wrong. He didn't really want to ally with the Ministry but he had hoped that
they would be more open, that they would be more accepting, yet that
possibility seemed gone forever.
       Or at least until there was a new power behind the Ministry.
       "Remus, wait!"
       Lupin was startled out of his thoughts by the cry, and he turned to see
the Head of the DMLE hurrying down a corridor towards him.
       "Madam Bones," he greeted the older witch. "How can I help you?"
       As the witch came up to them, Remus saw the look in her eyes and from
it, he knew that she knew that things had not gone well with his attempt to see
the Minister.
       "I'm sorry," Amelia said, not really sure what she was apologising for.
       "It's not your fault," Remus said with a smile for her. He hadn't had
many dealings with her, but those he had and those he had heard about all said
that the woman was fair, tough but fair, and didn't care if one was a werewolf
or not and he felt that he owed her an explanation.
       "The Minister would not see me," Remus said softly.
       "I suspected as much. What will you do now?"
       "As of the last full moon, I am the Pack Leader of the Isles," Lupin
said, so that she would know he did speak for the Packs. "I will order the
Werewolves to be neutral, but I know some will still serve the Dark Forces. I
cannot help that, Madam Bones, not any more than you can help that some wizards
will join him."
       The older witch sighed. "I know and I thank you," she said and Lupin
could tell her thanks were real. "I will try to convince the others that the
actions of one or even a few werewolves are not the actions of the whole, but
they are unlikely to see it that way."
       "We are more than aware of that," Remus said. "I've had the time to
become somewhat philosophical about it," he continued. "And now I find the
double standards almost amusing... Or I do, when they are not dangerous."
       "I'm sorry," Amelia repeated.
       "Don't be. This is just the way things are. And if you will excuse me,
I'm sure you are busy, Madam Bones, just as I am. We will see each other
later."
       "Hopefully under better circumstances."
       "Indeed," Remus agreed, nodding towards the older witch as he continued
up the corridor. Madam Bones was a good woman; at least the werewolves could
expect that the Aurors might treat them fairly this year. It seemed such a
little thing, but even the little things would help.
       "Can you get in touch with the others to arrange a date?" Remus asked
Blackpelt.
       "Who do you want there?" the other werewolf asked as they emerged on to
the street, blinking in the uncharacteristic December sun.
       "Yourself, Longtooth, if he's able, Razorclaw, and Talon."
       "Are you sure? Razorclaw was really hoping Fenrir won."
       "I'm sure," Remus said with an odd smile. "I want him there for that
very reason. He needs to see that this offer is genuine and that the Dark Lord
is not the only option we have."
       "I'll talk to him."
       "Find out if anyone needs any help as well."
       "Bloody hell!" Blackpelt growled. "I've become a secretary," he laughed.
       "Things they never tell you before you take up a role," Remus joked.
"Pack Leaders really do need secretaries," he added turning to the other
werewolf. "I lead to serve," Lupin said formally.
       "I follow to remember," Blackpelt replied, his voice equally formal as
he took his leave from the Pack Leader of the Isles. They'd come a long way
since the full moon, but they still had further to travel and the sooner they
started on that path, the quicker they would reach the end.
===
       Gideon didn't want to do this. But as one of the few fully invested
werewolves in the Dark Lord's forces, it now fell to him to relate to his Lord
the Werewolves' decision. It should have been Fenrir, but the man had gotten
himself killed. Not that Gideon could find it in his heart to blame Remus. The
leadership battle had been, in the end, one to the death so it was either kill
or die. It's just that no one had thought that Lupin would win over Greyback.
There were quite a few of the pack who were thankful, but those who had run
with Greyback personally, they were pissed. They would not attack the new
leader though, not without other backing, and they had not been introduced to
the Dark Lord, which was why Gideon was now here. He ached. The effects of the
full moon weighed heavily on him. But he had forced himself to be aware and was
dressed in his Death Eater robes, his mask tucked under one arm as he awaited
his audience.
       His Lord was a very busy wizard. Gideon had always known that there was
more to running the Dark Forces than simply giving some orders, but over the
past few months, he'd begun to see how much work it really was. His Lord
oversaw everything from training to attacks, to healing and to finances. Every
little detail of his forces was under his surveillance and all his subordinates
received his personal attention, some more so than others. It depended on their
needs. Gideon had been left to his own devices most of the time. His Lord had
ensured that he was adequately trained in combat, but the werewolf knew he was
not anything special. He was merely a soldier, one of the frontline troops. He
had not expected anything more. The real fighters, those his Lord spent a lot
more time with...they scared him.
       Yet in the last few weeks, he had been taking on more duties. He had
been talking to the werewolves, as many as he could, to find out what they
wanted. He hadn't made any secret of who he was and who he served, but most had
been content to talk and Gideon was surprised at the level of support that was
with the werewolves for the new offer. In part, that was because it was new but
there was also a sense of strength. The new offer gave them a Blood Oath, and
that gave them power. While most of the werewolves would never be in a position
to make the call on the Oath, the mere fact of its existence was enough to make
them feel empowered.
       That's how he now found himself waiting upon his Lord's pleasure.
Because he'd been talking to the werewolves, he knew what the outcome of the
leadership battle was and he was now the one nominated to tell his Lord.
       "Gideon." One of the Death Eaters standing at the door called him and he
rose, brushing his hands down over his robes to smooth them out.
       The instant he entered the Throne Room, Gideon was aware of the watching
eyes. Not just the red eyes of his Lord, but the yellow serpentine eyes of the
snakes that were wrapped around the throne and the unseen but calculating eyes
of the Death Eater body guards.
       "Gideon," Voldemort greeted him as he bowed. "I take it Fenrir is
injured?" The way he said it was not a question and the young werewolf
shuddered slightly at what he was about to say.
       "No, my Lord."
       "Then why are you here?"
       "Fenrir is dead, my Lord," Gideon hoped that getting the announcement
out of the way would help.
       "Fenrir is dead?" The skeptism in his Lord's voice was obvious.
       "Remus Lupin is the Pack Leader for the Isles."
       "And how was Fenrir killed?"
       Gideon blinked. It wasn't the question he expected. "I don't know, my
Lord, but he is dead. His body has been seen and his pack is preparing him for
burial."
       The werewolf watched as the Dark Lord took a deep breath and exhaled
slowly. Clearly the Dark lord had not expected this news though he was taking
it better than the werewolf thought he might.
       "And what are the Pack Leader's plans?"
       "I believe he will try to speak to the Ministry. Lupin has always been
known to favour them."
       "Yes, he is a member of the Order of the Phoenix," Voldemort sighed. "I
will not have the Werewolves lost to me this way."
       Gideon tensed. "I can suggest he speak with you, my Lord, but I doubt he
will voluntarily come."
       "Unlikely," the Dark Lord agreed, "though should the opportunity arise,
suggest it anyway. For any other werewolves you speak to, let them know I look
after those who serve me."
       "My Lord," Gideon saluted. "Do you want me to ask how Fenrir died?"
       "No, that is not necessary," Voldemort said. "It does not matter now; he
was killed. You are dismissed, Gideon, though report back tomorrow. If you are
to be my liaison with the Werewolves, you will need further training. I will
attend to it."
       Gideon nodded at his Lord again before he turned and left, happy to have
escaped relatively unscathed and already dreading what the morrow would bring.
As soon as he was out of the Throne Room, Gideon took three steps down the
corridor and collapsed, letting himself slide down the wall as he sucked in
air. He had not been aware how nervous he had been until now.
       And it wasn't until then that he realised he had never told his Lord
about the other offer the Werewolves had been given.
       From the Throne Room Gideon heard a scream and he shuddered, suddenly
thankful that his Lord was not torturing him. He didn't know who it might be
but he didn't care. For now, he was safe. He would tell his Lord about the
other offer tomorrow.
===
       The first thing Snape noticed was that he was warm and lying on
something soft. The next thing he noticed was the silence. It was total and
almost seemed to make its own noise with a hum just under his conscious
hearing. And oddly that is what convinced him that he wasn't still in the Dark
Lord's tender care and he opened his eyes.
       It was his roof.
       That's not right, Snape thought as his eyes closed again. His limbs felt
heavy and he recognised the lingering traces of the Cruciatus Curse in them.
He'd either need a few specialised potions or more rest but why had the Shadows
transported him back to his own house?
       :Because it's the best place,: their echoy voice whispered. :It will be
under a Fidel charm shortly.:
       "Don't move," another voice cautioned and a damp cloth was applied to
his forehead.
       Severus tried to nod and was immediately sorry that he did when his head
began pounding. A vial that felt like one of his was held to his lips and he
drank, recognising the pain killing potion before he slipped back under.
       When he awoke a second time, it was again to warmth and silence but this
time his limbs felt different. The effects of the Cruciatus Curse were gone
though he still felt weak.
       :There's some strengthening potions on your bedside table. Take them and
get up,: the Shadow's instructed unnecessarily. Even if they hadn't suggested
it, he fully intended to go to his personal stores and do just that.
       "So what happens now?" Snape asked as he took the first of the potions.
They had been taken from his stocks and usually he'd complain but not this
time.
       :You go have a bath and get dressed, and then give the secret of this
location to one of our agents.:
       "Then what?" He resisted the urge to snort. The Shadow's answers were
sometimes singularly unhelpful since all of that he could deduce for himself.
       :Then we want Wolfsbane in large amounts and a few other potions but you
will have plenty of time to brew and experiment.:
       "The Werewolves will never agree to follow you," Snape said as he rose
to his feet, wavering a little unsteadily.
       :Let us worry about that,: the Shadow's chided gently. :Do you want to
meet him?:
       "Meet who?" There was hot bath already drawn for him and Severus
stripped off the clammy clothing he had been wearing and slipped into the hot
water with a grateful sigh.
       :Our Master.:
       The Potion Master took a deep breath as things came together for him. "I
already know who that is and I presume he's playing both sides." The brat would
be arrogant enough to try that.
       :No, one side is perfectly aware of what he is doing,: the Shadow's
explained.
       "Ah," Snape said yet the rise in feeling he'd expected did not come and
for the first time in years he realised he did not care. He genuinely did not
care what was happening and he had no reason to care. Potter had made his own
choices, and so he was old enough to make his own mistakes. And right now, the
warmth of the water was seeping into his bones and that was feeling enough.
       :There is one thing you could do for us after you've cleaned up a
little,: the hollow voice continued.
       "What do you need?"
       :We'd really appreciate it if you could write down every credential
you've got as a Potion Master. Brag and boast, don't be shy on this.:
       "I've become a selling point," Severus grumbled.
       :Yes. Your skills are well known but let's show them off a bit and air
out those awards you have accumulated.:
       "I don't actually have many you know," Snape said matter of factly.
       :Have many what?:
       "Qualifications. Dumbledore never let me and Voldemort didn't care so
long as I was capable."
       :Hmm,: the Shadow's voice was soft as they considered. :We have
something else for you to do then. Apply for accreditation with whoever will
accept you.:
       Severus nodded. "That I can do."
       :Good,: the Shadows said before falling silent as Snape enjoyed the
bath. It was one of those simple luxuries that so many did not appreciate but
after coming so close to death it was one of those things he intended to enjoy.
       It was about twenty minutes later when the water was just turning cool
and Severus was considering charming it to become hot again when the Shadow's
spoke. :Get up and dry off, breakfast is ready and our agent has a few more
things to do today.:
       The Potion Master sighed but acknowledged the point that it would be
decadent to remain in the bath, no matter how nice it felt and he did as they
bade, dressing with some relief in his normal robes and noticing that the heavy
black robes that were his Death Eater Uniform were not present in his closet.
       It wasn't until he walked into his kitchen, taking in the plate of
waiting food and seeing the other wizard sitting at the table, a mug of tea in
their hands that Snape really knew what he had agreed to.
       "This wasn't my idea," the wizard snapped. "And definitely isn't what I
thought I'd be doing, so eat your breakfast and after I get out of here we
won't mention it again."
       Snape snorted as he sat down, silently agreeing with the assessment. "So
you are to be the Secret keeper?" He asked as he began on the surprisingly well
cooked breakfast.
       The wizard looked amused. "No one will ever expect it."
       "I've heard that before."
       "I know," regret lay heavy in the agreement. "But I'm not a rat."
       "True enough," Snape agreed, pulling a piece of parchment to him and a
quill and he began to write out his qualifications as requested, ignoring the
other man who watched him as he ate. He'd agreed to the Shadow's proposal but
this was about as civil as he would ever be with the man who had been his bane
in school and one he was now meant to trust with his location. It was best for
all concerned that they did not speak. Unfortunately no one told Black.
Thankfully the man was all business.
       "Groceries will be delivered once a week to the back of the house on a
small section that won't be under protection. Potion ingredients will come at
intervals and I or someone else will courier the Wolfsbane to wherever it is
needed. If you leave it where the groceries are, we won't even need to see each
other."
       "I think I can manage that," Snape said with as much grace as he could
muster. "Though I'm to be trapped here?"
       :Somewhat,: the Shadows said. :The papers will be delivered and there
will be errands but for the moment staying put is the safest option. Your
former Lord would still very much like to play further.:
       "He's still got Lucius and I didn't like that v..." Snape feel silent as
he realised he'd never told Fawkes about the Vampire that was standing at the
Dark Lord's side.
       "Given that Fawkes betrayed you, it's a good thing that you didn't tell
him everything," Sirius said with an almost gentle voice and after a moment the
Potion Master was forced to agree. He'd told Fawkes enough, if the Fire Bird
had of honoured their agreement then he could have felt that he betrayed the
Order though how he was meant to do that in death Snape didn't know. The Order
had betrayed him, he owed them nothing.
       "Just like you've not told him everything?" Snape forced himself to
question with some of his usual vitriol.
       "He's never asked," Black grinned, his eyes shining. "And the real
kicker is they've never asked Harry either."
       "Well, I can say, without being facetious, that I truly do not care."
       "True," Black conceded the point. "But you will come to find it as
sickening as I do as the year goes on." And with that the man fell silent,
letting the Potion Master eat his breakfast before they attended to the day's
tasks.
===
***** Bow Unto Me *****
Weapon
Chapter 36 Bow Unto Me
       Xeoaph looked over his children. They had all recovered, physically at
least, from the battles of the previous year. Most looked fit and healthy, lean
and ready to fight but the real wounds were different. They were in the gaps
still present in the ranks and those wounds would be decades in the healing.
Even so, they would continue on this path, because it was the only way.
       He knew, every time he looked at the Potter childling, he knew that
somehow the boy was a façade but he had never been able to catch the young
wizard in the lie. And with Fawkes having a mental presence in the boy, nothing
less than absolute proof would be sufficient. The elder vampire sighed. He
would grant that the boy was a superlative actor, he had to be to be fooling
the phoenix but that skill would mean nothing in the end. He would have the
proof he required.
       For now though he had another ploy by the Shadows to attempt to counter.
The problem was he wasn’t sure if he could.
       When he’d been called with Dumbledore to the Ministry the other day he
had thought nothing of it, until he’d seen the bodies. At first glance they
appeared have been killed by a vampire. There were bite marks on their necks
and very little blood remained in the body.
       “Father, what is it?” Jissa asked. She wasn’t Ikhan but her desire to
take Ikhan’s place as his second was obvious. Thus far Xeoaph did not care so
long as the job was done.
       “The Shadows are playing, and I am forced to wonder why I even wish to
save most wizards,” Xeoaph sighed.
       “What has happened?”
       “There have been deaths. Stupid low brow Wizards have been killed and
the killer deliberately made it look like we killed them.”
       “But we haven’t!” the female vampire objected. “Your orders were strict
Father and we have been obeying. No wizards have been bitten, not even those
who would willingly give themselves to us.”
       Now that was one reason Xeoaph wasn’t sure Jissa could replace Ikhan.
His former second in command would never have made such an obvious statement.
“I am aware of this Jissa, the ignorant gossiping wizards are not.
       “The Minister knows, the Auror’s know that the dead wizards were not
killed by a vampire. They know it was the blood draining charm and a sharp
knife that made it look like the work of one of us but they are not the
wizarding public, and some idiot witch or wizard found the bodies and they’ve
made the assumptions and are pointing the finger.”
       “So have the Ministry publish the truth,” Jissa shrugged.
       “My child, if only it was that simple. The wizarding sheep have just
learned that the Ministry was lying to them for a great deal of time about the
Dark Lord’s return. They are unlikely to believe some disclaimer, no matter how
true, that it was not a vampire who killed those wizards. Though we have
convinced The Daily Prophet to publish the autopsy results and to run an
editorial.”
       “Father, why are you even worried?” Jissa asked suddenly. “Even if it
was true, boo, hoo, hoo, some vampire ate some wizards. Surprise, surprise,
that’s what we do to food! What makes these ones so special that they care
about them?”
       Xeoaph chuckled softly. “They don’t. The Ministry admits these wizards
were thugs, barely able to use magic. But,” he snapped the word, “because they
could hold a wand, suddenly they are sacrosanct.”
       “So who did kill them?”
       “I don’t know which agent, but I will bet that the Shadows did.”
       “Why?”
       The elder vampire smiled over at his child, not sure if she was
genuinely asking or if she was trying to lead his thoughts. Her expression was
ingenious and almost innocent but there was a slight smile on her lips. Jissa
already knew at least some of these answers but she was fishing for others,
trying to help him formulate a plan. “To distract and discredit. We aren’t the
only one’s playing both sides. The Shadow’s may say it’s rogue’s serving the
Dark Lord but I do not believe it. Their Master is fully aware of their
duplicity and their Master is playing his own game. Whether he is truly on the
Dark Lord’s side, or on his own side, he is not the paragon of Light the weak
minded fools expect and they will pay the price.”
       “So bite him?” Jissa suggested with a smirk.
       Bite him, turn Harry Potter into a slave who’s only thought was to obey
his Vampire Master. It was a nice thought but Xeoaph knew the boy already had
the strength of mind to resist and if he had truly taken of his blood, as had
been insinuated in the Atrium, then he ran the risk of turning the boy, or at
least making a Halfling. And a wizard Halfling with control over the Shadow’s
may not be able to kill them all, but would certainly be more than powerful
enough to kill many before he was inevitably taken down. Still... it was a nice
thought.
       “Unfortunately my child, that is not a viable option. The boy might be
sly and cunning, he may rely on the Shadow’s for his power but he is not weak.
He’d fight.”
       “All the more fun when he submits.”
       “The Shadow’s would also fight.”
       “Yet we are the true Dark.”
       “And the Ministry and Dumbledore would bitch.”
       “Maybe later then?”
       “Oh, so you want him?” Xeoaph asked his child.
       “I admit Father, I would not object to coupling with such a pretty
little wizard.”
       “Do not become obsessed my child. He would just as soon as rip your
heart out, than sleep with you. He claims Ikhan died by accident, by being too
close to a defensive charm he was warned was being cast. I say that’s a lie and
Ikhan was murdered but for the moment, we need him and we need him trapped on
the Light side because no matter how much I dislike the thought, he is the one
destined to kill the Dark Lord.”
       “Then Father, we need to at least attempt to have the wizards gain faith
in us again. I don’t like it but you are correct, the public good will of the
wizarding sheep is for the moment something we need.”
       “And that is the very reason the Shadow’s killed those wizards. They
mean nothing, they are nothing. They died merely to plant the seeds of doubt.”
       “So we need to sow the seeds of hope,” Jissa countered. “Or at least the
seeds of reason.”
       Ancient blue eyes blinked... “Say that again,” Xeoaph whispered.
       “Or at least the seeds of reason?” Jissa said, making the sentence a
question.
       “Or at least the seeds of reason,” Xeoaph breathed with a smile. That
was it! The Shadow’s thrived on doubt and mistrust, on whispered words in the
dark and insinuation. They never told the whole truth, relying on that little
bit of the unknown to turn events in their favour. And that was why they were
such masters of manipulation. He hated them but he was wise enough to give them
credit where it was due. So what he had to do now went against the grain, went
against the normal practice of vampires but to combat the Shadow’s he had to do
it.
       “My dear,” he smiled at his child. “I think you just hit on something.”
       “Father?”
       “You said it earlier, I instructed that we do not feed from wizards and
we have not been, not even those who would voluntarily come to us. It’s time to
change that and it’s time to make that public. We will call for volunteers, for
those witches and wizards who are not scared to feed us in exchange for our
services and we will be scrupulous. We will not kill, we will not hurt, and we
will not control. We will let them see us, in an idolised way, let them have
the pleasure rush from feeding and we will make it very clear that we do not
feed from unwilling wizards, we do not kill.
       “It will take a little while but that public display will serve.”
       “In more ways than one, Father,” Jissa said, her eyes bright. “Even if
we do not control now, we will remember the taste of control and those who
might be suitable can be called and tested once the upstart darkness is driven
back.”
       “Indeed,” Xeoaph replied. “Tell everyone there are no changes yet and to
be careful when they feed, least some idiot wizard spot them but I will make
the arrangements to get the wizarding sheep to feed us.”
===
       Voldemort looked down at the Death Eater before him. They were babbling
something about being attacked by the Shadow’s but he wasn’t entirely
listening. There new werewolf Pack Leader had made no move to contact him. Not
that he expected Remus Lupin to but that idiot Greyback had promised him the
werewolves, and he had, rather stupidly it seemed, been counting them as his
already.
       And then Greyback went and lost the most important battle of his life.
Voldemort was not naïve enough to believe that defeat was impossible with the
augmented healing he had granted the other werewolf, but he was surprised.
Lupin was one of the few werewolves actually trained as a wizard and so while
he may have been able to see the accelerated healing as an animal there should
have been very little he could have done about it except die. The fact that he
won, by all accounts taking Fenrir on in a one to one battle spoke very highly
of his werewolf ability or at the very least, his hatred of his creator. He
could not deny Remus the right to lead, but he could regret the fact that the
werewolf was firmly on Dumbledore’s side despite the failure to meet with the
Minister.
       “What are you drivelling about?” the Dark Lord finally snarled, his wand
levelled at the Death Eater who cowered before him. “You were defeated by some
wizard who you claim was a Shadow agent?”
       “Yes, Master.”
       “And you dare to show you face?”
       “Master?”
       “If it truly was a Shadow agent, then I’m surprised you aren’t dead! And
if it wasn’t, you dare to come before me to tell me you were defeated?” The
logic of his followers sometimes escaped him. Especially the lower tiers.
       “Why don’t you let me deal with him?” Kisha’s seductive voice whispered
and the Dark Lord was so fed up he merely flicked one white hand in agreement.
       “Master, no please!” The man cried as the elder vampire glided towards
him.
       Voldemort just closed his eyes. Was the wizard such an idiot? The only
reply he would get from him was the Crucio curse for his failure and they knew
that. So why did they call out for mercy? He would gladly torture the wizard.
Cries wrung from the lips of those who were lost were highly arousing but since
his bed was cold and empty, there was little point in arousal. Finishing
himself was hollow and the Dark Lord would wait until his mate once again slept
there so he could plunge into Harry’s inviting warmth, revel in the tight heat
as he came. Then arousal would be called for.
       There was a choked scream and the sound of a futile struggle that
Voldemort assumed was Kisha subduing the wizard but it was a third voice that
caught his attention.
       “Well, there is a certain irony in this.”
       Red eyes snapped open and the Dark Lord took in the scene all at once.
Kisha had her fangs sunk deep into the throat of the Death Eater and the man
was staring blankly at the far wall. He was bent back, his legs under him but
giving no support and it was the elder vampires’ strength that was keeping him
up. The Shadow’s servant was on the other side a good five metres away from
Kisha, leaning against one of the pillars in the room, his black eyes showing
sardonic amusement.
       “And here I came to apologise for attacking him,” the Shadow servant
continued, gesturing to the Death Eater.
       Voldemort heard the lie and he could tell Kisha did as well but the lie
was intriguing. The Shadow’s would never apologise for attacking but they had
attacked the Death Eater.
       “Kisha, it’s so good to see you again.”
       “As it is you,” the elder vampire replied, letting the Death Eater’s
body drop as she wiped the blood from her mouth. “I was afraid I hurt you.”
       “Oh no no, never fear,” the man laughed. “I am sorry I had to dash
though. Pressing appointments elsewhere, you understand.”
       “Think nothing of it.”
       “I don’t.”
       The Dark Lord watched the by-play reading the truth. So Kisha and this
Shadow Servant had had a little run in with each other, one that the Elder
Vampire had won which was not that surprising. No one had accused her of being
weak but the Shadow Servant still stood there, secure in his power.
       “You owe me a second date,” Kisha purred and somehow the Shadow Servant
looked repentant.
       “For a woman as divine as you, I am honoured that you would grant me the
pleasure of a second date. I’ll clear my schedule some time.”
       “I’ll look forward to it.”
       “So will I.”
       “Will your master allow it?”
       The Dark Lord looked at the Shadow Servant intently. Their answer would
be telling.
       The man chuckled. “My dear, I have very strict instructions regarding
the Shadow Lord but they can be summarised in two words; ‘Stay away’. And that
is exactly what I do. You might consider it onerous to be in thrall to the
Shadows but I get a great deal of enjoyment from it, enjoyment I wouldn’t get
by being a slave to the Light’s Golden Child.”
       “Imagine how much more fun you would have with me?”
       “Tempting my dear, but I’m not suited for the guise of eternity.”
       “Ah-hem!” Voldemort broke in. Their jabs were amusing but there had to
be some reason the Shadow’s had sent their servant.
       “Ah yes,” the Shadow Servant said brightly, “Why am I here?” He
questioned, his voice almost laughing.
       “Yes, why are you here?” Kisha asked, her purple eyes narrowing as she
assessed the distance.
       The man was masked but the Dark Lord saw the grin he flashed the elder
vampire. “With the Veela about to announce their allegiance to the Ministry,
and the werewolves being... somewhat intractable shall we say, I thought to
offer my services during the forthcoming assault.”
       “The vast majority of the werewolves will follow me,” Voldemort said
confidently.
       “No, they won’t,” the Shadow Servant objected, his voice firm. “And if
you attack Remus, even fewer will come to you. Regardless of how you feel the
fight should have turned out, or what an individual werewolf might think, Remus
Lupin won the battle. That makes him the strongest werewolf on the Isles and
for those who think like a pack, that makes him the Leader of the Pack. And a
pack follows its leader, where they lead, not where the individual wishes to
go.”
       “You speak like one who knows.”
       “I’m not a werewolf, if that’s what you are trying to insinuate my dear.
But I do know the thoughts of a pack and for now, the Dark Lord is best leaving
the werewolves be and extending a generous hand to those who do follow him, in
the hopes of enticing others.”
       Voldemort took a deep breath. He was getting the feeling that something
else was going on with the Werewolves, that there was another game at play here
but he could not work out what. “What will your services cost me?”
       “I’m pretty cheap this time. All we want...”
       “We?” Kisha snorted.
       “My dear, you already know I represent the Shadows who work with the
Dark Lord. I’m a part of them so yes, their desire is my desire.”
       “What do you want?” Voldemort asked again.
       The man took a deep breath before he spoke in a clipped tone, “The
assurance that you will not kill the Shadow Lord in this battle.”
       “What!?” The objection came from the elder vampire while the Dark Lord
hid his smile.
       Black eyes looked over at her, their gaze hard and unyielding. “I may
stay away from the Shadow Lord because I do not wish to be subject to his
demands, but I will defend him with my life if it is necessary.”
       “Yet you dare to claim you are independent?”
       “I am! The Shadows I work for are independent of the Shadow Lord, yet
they also realise they need him to exist somewhere. So make no mistake vampire,
to strike at the Shadow Lord you will have to go through me.”
       “That’s not a problem,” Kisha purred, flexing her fingers into claws.
       “Enough!” The Dark Lord couldn’t avoid feeling like he was some teacher,
breaking an argument up in the classroom. “The two of you may fight elsewhere,”
he snapped before fixing red eyes on the Shadow Servant. “You do not wish me to
kill the one being who is supposed to be my doom?”
       The man was silent for a moment. “In this battle,” he elaborated, his
voice sure and the Dark Lord was impressed. He would never kill his beloved,
and the Shadow Servant knew it and no true slave of the Shadows could do other
than protect the Shadow Lord but the man before him seemed completely at ease
with the thought of the Shadow Lord’s demise, just so long as it did not happen
this time.
       “You drive a very hard bargain,” Voldemort murmured. “I had hoped to
catch them unawares and to kill the boy before he was truly ready.”
       “They already know you are going to attack,” the Shadow Servant
shrugged, as if the information was common knowledge. “Some idiot told Severus
and he blabbed to the Phoenix.”
       “You are remarkably well informed.”
       “It’s my job to be informed. So... Do you accept?”
       Voldemort sighed theatrically. “I recall I did tell Dumbledore that I
would enjoy breaking the boy to my will before I killed him,” he murmured. “You
had better be worth the price.”
       “For the way this battle is likely to go, I’m cheap,” the Shadow Servant
shrugged.
       Kisha was shaking her head though she was wise enough to remain silent.
Her conclusions were obvious but still unproven and if the Vampires were that
sure of the alliance between the Shadow Lord and the Serpent Lord then there
was only one path they could take. But they appeared to be content to wait.
       The Shadow Servant turned to the elder vampire. “My dear, I beg your
forgiveness, as much as I would love to bask in your glory, I must dash again.
A thrall’s work is never done.”
       “You are no more thrall that I am,” purple eyes burned but she made no
move towards the man.
       “True,” he said deprecatingly, the smile in his voice. “Imagine how much
fun you could have if you were like me?” he echoed her earlier words.
       The elder vampire was startled for an instant before she nodded
gracefully. “Tempting, but I’m not suited for the guise of submission.”
       The way the man looked her over was nothing short of scandalous and his
black eyes glowed, “I’m almost positive we could work something out,” he said
in an arch voice before he bowed towards the Dark Lord and turned away, heading
towards the door.
       Voldemort chuckled when he felt his coil of surprise at the movement. He
was so used to the Shadow’s and the Shadow Servants appearing where they
wanted, when they wanted, no matter what wards he had up that he was almost
disappointed to see the man calmly walk to the door and slip through it.
       “And so now you see,” Kisha whispered, turning towards the Dark Lord,
“the Shadows will never let you have ultimate victory.”
       The red eyed wizard shrugged, dismissing her words. “The Shadows have
always made it clear to me that their so called Lord must live,” he stated
easily. “But they never specified how much life he had to have,” the Dark Lord
added with a raised eyebrow that spoke volumes.
       “Crucio?”
       “For a while, but the outcome is not certain on that, so if he does not
submit to me as a good little catamite then a medical charm is more certain and
on this, I want certainty.”
       Kisha created a little illusion and walked around the projected image of
Harry Potter, examining him closely. “He’s handsome,” she said before looking
deep into the green eyes. “But he has spirit.”
       Voldemort smiled, and waved one hand to dismiss the image. “If he did
not have spirit breaking him would be no fun and I anticipate a great deal of
pleasure to look down and see him willingly wrap those pretty little lips
around me, and to later hear him beg to be ridden.”
       Purple eyes blinked, as if Kisha realised for the first time his desire
towards the Boy-Who-Lived before she shook black hair back over one shoulder.
“I suppose it does not matter,” she murmured, moving towards the door as well.
“I want the Shadow’s put in their proper place and if the one who commands them
is the pathic of the Dark Lord, I suppose that is place enough for them.”
       She looked back towards him. “Good day my Lord,” Kisha added when she
reached the door, her eyes ageless. “Thank you for the meal.” She made a vague
gesture towards the forgotten body of the Death Eater that was sprawled on the
stone, blood sluggishly dripping from the gaping wound on his neck to freeze
with the rest of the blood that was forming the floor of the throne room.
       “Good day, my Lady Kisha,” Voldemort said with a formal nod. “We will
discuss plans further anon.”
       “We will,” the elder vampire’s voice echoed from the corridor before the
doors closed and Voldemort was left alone in his Throne Room, his red eyes
hooded as he thought of Harry.
===
       -It’s been too long.-
       The hiss was whispered in the dark and there were several sibilant
replies. The area was large and while stone was usually cold, the Dark Lord had
infused this part of his stronghold with warming charms so that the serpents
who lived there were comfortable.
       There were many serpents of all varieties but the largest and most
dangerous were the basilisks and they were carefully twined around each other.
       -It has been but we cannot just rest,- one said yellow eyes almost
glowing.
       -Should we call those in the Amazon?-
       -Not yet,- Xeloc’s voice was deep.
       -Are you healed?- Xuld asked.
       -Are you?- the question was returned.
       -He was your father.-
       -And he was your brother.-
       -My fangs itch for the one responsible,- Xuld hissed, her voice tight.
       -We will taste him together,- Xeloc whispered.
       -Has Xatarass asked for anything?-
       -Father will not ask.-
       -He should not have to. We may not always understand wizards but we know
enough. What is causing the most problem?- Xentor asked.
       -There is no fighting at the moment,- Xar said. –It’s hard to tell. The
Goblins perhaps?-
       -The Phoenix,- Xal hissed.
       -The Phoenix is an ongoing problem,- Ximond said mildly, -and he will be
dealt with. The Goblins are something we can deal with though.-
       -How?-
       -How what?-
       -How is the Phoenix going to be dealt with?-
       -Xaos is already in position. I suspect he will be our final victory
over the Phoenix.-
       -The Goblins,- Ximond repeated, bringing his extended families attention
back towards something they could directly deal with.
       -We could all wear our fangs down to the gums and not deal with them.-
       -But there are other ways of dealing with species.-
       -You suggest capture?-
       -A few yes. What did Xara always say?-
       -That others can speculate but every species knows the best way to kill
itself.-
       -So we capture some goblins and ask them how to kill their species?-
Xentor chuckled.
       -I will go,- Xeloc hissed.
       -You need to heal!-
       -I’m healed enough for this. I intend only to provide transport. Ximond,
Xentor and Xal can do the capture.-
       -I’ll go instead of Xal,- Xar spoke for the first time.
       -I will go Xar!- Xal hissed with sudden anger. –I have to go. Capture is
easier for us females.-
       -Which is why you can’t go,- Xar tried to argue.
       -Do not take my gender as weakness.-
       -Do not take any of us as being weak.-
       -I don’t,- Xar tried to say but the other male’s shushed him to let
their largest member speak.
       -You are not weak,- Ximond hissed. –We are the line of Ximir, none of us
are weak, but Xal, you smell different. Are you carrying?-
       -Ximond is correct, you do smell different,- Xeloc said after sampling
the air. –I am sorry I did not notice Xal.-
       Xal hissed, the noise obviously contemplative.
       -Xal, I will go,- Xuld said.
       -Until we are sure, Xal, you will remain here,- Ximond gave the
instruction and all the basilisks shifted slightly, moving to protect Xal
despite the fact they were deep in their lair.
       -May I go?- Xeros asked differentially. He was the youngest and had not
been allowed out unescorted. –It should be fairly safe.-
       Xeloc and Ximond as the two eldest shared a long look before Ximond
nodded. –You may go,- he said, forestalling any argument.
       Xeros was wise enough to nod without giving any indication of his
elation. He had to appear controlled, and old enough that he should be allowed
out by himself.
       Xeloc coiled himself around Xal and Xoui while Xuld touched noses with
Xeros. –There is one more thing,- the large basilisk said. –I believe, Xaos
will for fill our vow to Xeau, to see Fawkes dead but that still leaves things
Xatarass may need, enemies we may yet have to face. I wish to grow.-
       -No!- Ximond made the denial. –If any of us are to do that, I should be
the one.-
       Ximond and Xeloc were almost the same size though Xeloc was a generation
older. –No, Ximond,- Xeloc said firmly while the others watched and listened.
–You are Xatarass’ heir. You must lead us. This is why there are two lines, one
to lead and one to fight.-
       -Then it should be me,- Xentor hissed.
       -Not yet, Xentor,- Xeloc hissed, almost fondly.
       -What do you think we will need to fight?-
       -I don’t know,- Xeloc said, -but I want us to be prepared for anything
Xatarass may wish us to fight.-
       Xuld looked up at her uncle, -Are you sure?-
       -I am sure,- Xeloc said firmly.
       -Check with Xatarass,- Ximond said finally. –If this is truly your wish,
Xeloc, we will honour it.-
       -My brothers, my sisters, you honour me. I will honour you,- Xeloc
intoned formally and at his words all the basilisks turned towards him, bowing
their heads.
===
       Remus looked around the clearing. The moon was half full but gave light
enough to make the dusting of snow glow. He and the other Pack Leaders were
rugged up against the cold bite in the air. Winter was coming and it was
spreading to embrace them all. Thankfully there was no wind, and the stars were
visible overhead. The usual drip of water in the Forbidden Forest was silenced
and even the air smelt a little cleaner, curtsy of the frozen water that lay
over everything.
       They were a little early, so they were waiting and Remus wondered if he
would see Sirius today. He wasn’t sure that the Shadows would be willing to
expose their link to both sides no matter the fact that he was here to seal
their alliance.
       “Are they going to make us wait all night?” Razorclaw snarled.
       “We are early,” Longtooth soothed. The older werewolf was barely healed
enough from his fight with Fenrir but he insisted he was well enough for this
and Remus was thankful he had come. He was a sensible man. Razorclaw was more
of Greyback’s ilk but he was necessary as well. Lupin wanted the more
aggressive werewolf to see that alliance with someone other than the Dark Lord
was not only possible but profitable.
       There was a soft squelch from the far side of the clearing and Remus
felt his eyes widen when he saw Sirius, in the guise of the Shadow Servant step
gently over the ground, his eyes looking everywhere.
       “You aren’t the Shadow Lord,” Talon accused but Sirius ignored the
remark as he continued to look around, obviously assessing the situation.
       Finally black eyes turned towards the werewolf who had spoken and Remus
could see by the way he blinked that the Shadows were strongly with him. “And
you aren’t the Pack Leader.”
       “Calm down,” Remus spoke before anyone could retaliate, “He’s here to
make sure this is not a trap,” the wizard werewolf explained for the benefit of
his fellows.
       “Indeed,” Sirius agreed with his Shadow hidden voice. “I am an agent,”
he elaborated. “When all is said and done, I am expendable. The Shadow Lord is
not.”
       “That’s enough!”
       Remus recognised Harry’s voice only because he was so familiar with it
but he would have never recognised the small form that stepped from the deeper
darkness behind Sirius as being the young man. And that was probably the point
he realised ruefully.
       Harry was dressed much as reports had been given of his attire in the
Atrium but there were a few changes. For one his hood was swept back but his
face was covered by a mask much like Sirius’ and his eyes.... Remus suppressed
a shudder. Harry’s usually green eyes seemed black with no sclera. His hair was
slicked down to lie almost neatly against his head and his robes were heavy,
black and seemed unadorned by protective sigils. Lupin hadn’t seen the Harry of
the Atrium but he was willing to bet there was enough difference that even if
one of the Pack Leaders found an image, there would be little to link the two.
       “You are the Shadow Lord?” Razorclaw snapped.
       “I am.”
       “How do we know that?” Blackpelt asked the question with considerably
more grace than the other Werewolf.
       “The same way I know Remus Lupin is the Pack Leader of the Isles.”
       It took Talon and Razorclaw a moment to work that out but it was long
enough for Longtooth to snort in amusement and murmur his agreement. No one had
provided proof beyond their word... There was no proof beyond their word.
       “So, here we are,” Harry continued, ignoring the more aggressive
werewolves as he addressed Remus. “I take it the Ministry was less than
accommodating and you do not wish to make an alliance with the Dark Lord?”
       Remus smiled at Harry. The young wizard was no doubt completely aware of
what had transpired at the Ministry but the way he phrased it allowed for one
to doubt his absolute knowledge. “The Dark Lord is still an option,” he replied
and almost surprised himself when he realised the truth of his words. “He is
just one I do not wish the Werewolves to pursue because he is divisive and will
lead, eventually to our doom.”
       “Explain.”
       “Half the Packs would serve him and half would serve under protest,”
Remus’ voice took on a speculative air and he was aware when the other Pack
Leader’s looked at him. They had obviously not thought he would even consider
allying with the Dark Lord Voldemort and they were interested in his reasoning.
“In time, those who did not wish to serve would not, and the Dark Lord would
see that as betrayal. For some reason, werewolves are seen as a whole. Where
one goes, all must follow and all are culpable for the actions of a few.
       “Even the Dark Lord views us that way, so that those who do not serve
him would be seen as betraying him, and those who did serve could never make up
for that betrayal. And in the end, we would once again be hunted.”
       Blackpelt, Talon and Longtooth nodded, their eyes downcast. Remus’
explanation was simplified but his logic was true and they were ashamed of not
having thought it through. While the Dark Lord was not necessarily their
preferred option, they saw the initial response when they considered the dark
path, they had not thought the path through to the end.  Razorclaw growled,
though he too recognised the truth of the Pack Leader’s logic.
       “And so here we are,” Harry repeated, the smile evident in his voice.
“And you are no doubt wondering why I would wish to ally with the Werewolves.”
       “Somewhat,” Longtooth replied.
       “I am tired of the never ending war of wizards, of them never learning
anything. I’m younger than most but I’ve learned enough to see how nothing will
ever be fixed with the current system and thus I propose to fix the current
system. After the system is fixed, I’m going to need helpers who know why it
had to be fixed and that’s where the werewolves come in.”
       “You need enforcers?”
       “No,” Harry shook his head firmly. “Helpers. And that is not a matter of
semantics. The system will be fixed and wizards and witches will accept and
embrace the new system, not fight against it. But there will be those who have
been displaced, who wish for the old norms and so I will need those who have a
vested interest in seeing the new norms remain to help me make sure that
everything is as it should be.
       “Werewolves are persecuted now, I propose equality between most magical
species and that is what you would be helping to protect. Most witches and
wizards will accept that, especially the muggleborns, they just have no idea
that that is not what they are getting. I’m not muggleborn but like them I
don’t even know why werewolves are persecuted. You change for one day a month
and during that time, most werewolves voluntarily lock themselves away! By that
logic we should persecute witches since they bleed for more days than that and
inflict themselves upon wizards in that time!”
       Blackpelt snorted. “Good luck with that,” he murmured.
       “So we won’t be law enforcers?” Longtooth asked, ignoring the analogy.
       “Some of you might,” the way Harry said it showed his surprise. “I won’t
be saying no if a Werewolf wishes to become an Auror in the future. Equality,
that is what I am aiming for.”
       “You said for most magical species,” Longtooth murmured the earlier
qualification.
       “And I mean for most,” Harry agreed. “Chimera’s for example cannot
control their natures, nor can Acromantulars. There is little point in even
trying to have them contribute.”
       There was silence for a few moments while the Werewolves thought, though
that was mostly for politeness. Remus had made up his mind, and Remus was the
Pack Leader. The others would have to challenge him if they would not support
his decision.
       “So, Pack Leader Lupin, are you still willing to walk the path I offer?”
Harry asked.
       “I am, though I think it would be wise if we both revisit what the path
you offer contains.”
       “Indeed, sometimes understanding can be lost in translation. So why
don’t I begin?”
       “Please.”
       “I would like the werewolves to proclaim their neutrality, while holding
allegiance to me,” Harry began, saying the sentence with a depreciating shrug
as if what he wanted was the simplest things in the world.
       “That puts us in the bad books with both the Ministry and the Dark
Lord.”
       “You are already in the bad books with the Ministry,” Harry murmured,
“And with a vampire standing at Dumbledore’s side, that’s not likely to
change.”
       “True,” Razorclaw conceded.
       “In return for our ambiguous position, you are prepared to offer
wolfsbane potion for those who want it, fiscal help if required and to see that
eventually the powers that be acknowledge werewolves as beings with equal
rights.”
       “I’m prepared to cast that charm as well if individuals desire it.”
       “I can see you getting changes passed the Ministry,” Longtooth said
softly, “Even if they don’t agree, they could be bribed but how are you going
to get changes passed the Dark Lord?”
       Harry nodded at the older man. “You may recall from the incident in the
Atrium that two beings came to the Dark Lord’s aide. One you see before you,”
the young wizard gestured towards Sirius who had taken up a position at his
side, standing in place as an obvious guard. “And one who is a more intimate
companion. The Lord Voldemort may seem unreasonable but that all depends on how
you pose questions to him.”
       Longtooth snickered as he acknowledged the point.
       “You wish our services in one battle?” Talon posed the statement as a
question.
       “I do,” Harry agreed. “I intend to move only when I can claim it all,
though even in that battle, you may not be openly acknowledging your allegiance
to me. I am tired of the wizards fighting, but not all the forces have gathered
yet and I will strike only when they are all committed to the battle, when
victory can be most effectively achieved. I may give that victory to the
Ministry, but more likely to the Lord Voldemort because I admit, I find him far
more accommodating to my requests.”
       “Sex won’t do it forever,” Razorclaw snapped.
       “Quite true but I like to save the wand at the heart as the last resort.
How I get either the Ministry or the Dark Lord to accept my alterations to the
status quo is my concern, not yours.”
       “Many have said that, why should we trust you over others?” Talon asked.
       “Because unlike others, I’m prepared to offer my life as backing for my
word.”
       “The Blood Oath,” both Blackpelt and Longtooth murmured.
       “Indeed, the Blood Oath,” Harry confirmed. “All five of you may be
holders of the stake, but I would prefer to put in the proviso that you must
agree before it can be activated.”
       “Will it only apply to the rules, or to everything else?”
       “Everything.”
       Remus took a deep breath. “Rules for equality for the future but for the
moment, in return for our announced neutrality and assistance in that battle,
you or your agents will provide assistance for the werewolves to survive in the
form of wolfsbane potion, the charm and fiscal help if we require it.”
       “Yes.”
       “I’ve never had wolfsbane, does it work on those who aren’t wizards?”
Longtooth asked.
       Harry looked confused for a moment before he frowned. “I’m not a Potion
Master, but I would presume so.”
       “It works,” Talon said softly. “A couple of those I run with were
muggles and they’ve occasionally managed to get it, though it’s difficult to
brew. Is your potion maker up to it?”
       While the smile could not be seen, Remus knew that Harry was smiling at
that question as he fished for a piece of parchment in his sleeve. He handed
the paper over and Remus saw that it was covered in writing and he began
reading. “Those are the qualifications of my Potion Master,” Harry said.
       “Merlin....” Razorclaw whistled as they gathered close to read the
parchment. The list was exceedingly long but Remus noticed something else.
       “A lot of these are pending qualifications?” The question was inherent.
The Mastery in Potions was not pending but some of the future qualifications
and membership associations were. Remus suspected he knew exactly whose
qualifications he was looking at.
       “My Potion Master has been in the employ of those who have suppressed
his ability. When he took up my offer, he was freed to pursue his true calling.
That is why he is lacking in some of the Association Fellowships but those will
be made up in time. The wizard who makes the Wolfsbane Potion is a fully
qualified and certified Potion Master.”
       “I can see that,” Remus said before he smiled and stepped forward to
kneel. The other werewolves followed his lead. “As the Pack Leader of the
Isles, I hereby swear the allegiance of the Werewolves to you, the Shadow Lord,
through blood, through word, through will, through magic.”
       Harry drew a small dagger and slashed at his palm before he flicked it
out splattering a few drops of blood on to each of the Pack Leader’s before he
placed his hand on Remus’ forehead to leave a red smear there. “Through blood,
through word, through will, through magic, I accept the allegiance of the
werewolves and will care for them as if they were my own.”
       There was a moment of silence before Harry stepped back, and Sirius
fussed, pulling his wand and healing the cut Harry had made to his palm. “My
life depends on it,” Harry added with a little smile.
       Remus took a deep breath before wiping the blood from his forehead with
his fingertips as he rose to his feet. The other’s followed his lead.
       “Well now that we have the formal part out of the way,” Harry started
again, “I’ve got a question.”
       “What do you wish to know Shadow Lord?” Talon asked.
       “Are there any werewolves good at farming?”
       “Farming?”
       The smirk was evident in Harry’s voice. “Some of the ingredients for
Wolfsbane potion are easily farmed, only I don’t have enough workers so figured
it would be more cost effective to pay some werewolves to farm them. And it’s
efficient and I’m a fan of efficiency under the right circumstances.”
       Blackpelt chuckled. “I’m sure we can find a few,” he assured the Shadow
Lord.
       “That’s good,” Harry said as he stepped forward towards Longtooth. “Hold
still please,” he addressed the older werewolf before he placed his hand on the
man’s forehead. “Merlin, Fenrir really did a number on you,” He murmured as he
worked, drawing back his hand to flick it through the motion of several healing
charms.
       “Wha..? You’re healing me?”
       “It’s no big thing,” Harry shrugged before stepped back looking up
towards the moon. “It’s late, and while there are still many things to work
out, I suggest we arrange another time,” Harry said.
       “That would be for the best,” Remus agreed.
       “In three days then?”
       “How about at The Hogs Head?”
       Harry’s brow crinkled for a moment in thought as he remembered it would
be Saturday and was a Hogsmead day for Hogwarts students, which meant that the
Dark Lord was likely to attack somewhere and Harry would be needed. Three days
had not been his best suggestion but he would work it out somehow. “That will
be fine,” Harry said as he bowed slightly and backed away, allowing the shadows
to wrap him in darkness. Sirius followed and the two of them apparated back to
the outskirts of the castle. The area of the Forbidden Forest they had been in
was under the wards, but apparition within the wards was possible without any
special power or ability.
       “That was interesting,” Sirius said.
       “It went about as I expected,” Harry replied, “though Remus does seem to
be doing well.”
       “Of course he’s doing well. I’m a little sorry I couldn’t help him
against Fenrir.”
       “He’ll understand.”
       “I know but I still regret it a bit. We talked about it a lot during
school, how we could help him kill the werewolf who bit him.”
       There was nothing Harry could say to that so he went with his own
feelings. “I miss you.”
       “I know but your guys tell me it won’t be much longer.”
       Harry sighed, looking up at the moon. “It’s already been so long and
Dumbledore is parading me around like I’m some sort of pet. If they were truly
using me in the war, I wouldn’t mind too much.”
       “Dumbledore wants everyone to know who provided them with their weapon.
He won’t really let you fight until it’s in his favour.”
       “I thought I knew what I was agreeing to,” Harry sighed again.
       “Hang in there, kiddo,” Sirius said as he turned away.
       “Sirius, when you are officially back I’ll need to visit Gringotts and
probably a few other things.”
       “I know, I’ll arrange it. Your guys have a passion for making sure
everything runs smoothly for you.”
       “Except with Ginny.”
       Sirius turned back, looking amused, “What about Ginny?”
       Harry looked at the older wizard with a distinctly unamused glare.
       :She knows the truth and he needs to keep her close,: the Shadow’s
supplied helpfully.
       “She’s also the one that Fawkes thinks I’m desperately in love with,”
Harry added with a mutter.
       Sirius laughed and despite the growing cold around them Harry could tell
by the way he shifted that he wanted to hear everything.
       “If I was who I was meant to be, I would love her,” the black haired
wizard said. “But I’m not and I can’t be and I don’t understand how she can be
so ignorant.”
       “Is she really like that?”
       “Yes!”
       “No no,” Sirius smiled before he turned serious again. “Is she being
controlled?”
       Harry considered it for a moment. “No,” he said finally before he took a
deep breath of the chill night air. “If I was the man I was meant to be, if
nothing had happened, even if I was the Boy-Who-Lived, raised by you, raised by
Remus, raised by anyone except those then I would be the type of wizard
Dumbledore thinks I am, the type of wizard who would love Ginny. But I’m not
and she’s not being controlled either.”
       “And so you don’t know why the Shadows are insisting you play nice with
her?”
       “Exactly. I don’t know why they picked her as the woman I should pretend
to love! She knows the truth but there are other ways of dealing with that.”
       “Have you asked them?”
       “They won’t tell me.”
       This time Sirius did laugh. “It’s so nice to know you are in charge,” he
muttered as he moved close to the younger wizard. Sirius reached out and put a
hand on Harry’s shoulder. “If they won’t tell you, yet they insist upon it, you
have to assume there is a real reason but it might be something that does not
happen. If it does happen then you will know and be thankful for the
preparation.”
       “I know but....” Harry sighed. “She is difficult.”
       “You know, I’m of two minds to hear you say that.”
       “Oh?”
       “It means you’ve gotten very good at hiding your true self from Fawkes,
so much so that you can be mostly yourself but at the same time, I’m sad
because....”
       “Because I’m not who I was meant to be.”
       Sirius nodded.
       “I can’t help that.”
       “I know you can’t and I decided a long time ago that since I can’t
change the past, you have to seek the best present and future and that’s all
you are doing though it’s not the future anyone expects. It will make you happy
though so that’s enough. It’s just that you shouldn’t have to go through all of
this.”
       Harry smiled somewhat forlornly, “It is what it is. I don’t regret the
past but I do regret what it will mean for some.”
       “There are always good people who get hurt. Even if Dumbledore was being
sensible, I don’t think there would be any way of saving everyone.”
       “I know and there aren’t that many but I hope a few people are
sensible.”
       “That’s their choice Harry. No matter what was happening, that is always
their choice.” The canine animagus looked over at his godson, “You don’t really
want to conquer, do you?” he asked with sudden insight.
       The smile Harry gave him in the darkness was wry, “No.”
       Sirius chuckled, “He wants it doesn’t he?”
       Harry sighed, “I don’t think he wants to conquer, it’s more he wants
change and even if he’d been elected, the system is entrenched. Change,
meaningful change is not possible. I told the Werewolves that I would get them
equality and I will, just I know as well as you do that it won’t be via the
Ministry. That’s why there has to be this war, even though I really don’t want
it.”
       “So what happens after?”
       “He wants to rule and I can’t bring myself to deny him that.”
       “From what I’ve seen he won’t be too bad,” Sirius mused.
       “Yes, though some of his followers are very loyal but their ideals
are....”
       “Not palatable to the greater wizarding public,” Sirius supplied
helpfully. 
       “Yes, and that will be my role, to make sure his changes are not based
in blood.”
       “You’ll do that well, Harry, I have no doubt but are you sure you want
to be hidden forever?”
       Green eyes blinked. “No.” Harry laughed, looking back at the stars. “I
don’t know.”
       “It’s all right,” Sirius soothed moving closer to give his godson a
quick embrace. “It’s okay. You don’t have to know everything now. And on some
things, it’s better to let the chips fall where they will before you commit to
a path. You’ve made the most important decision, you will support him and he
knows what will happen after, and what happens after the after, that’s
something no one needs to think about yet.”
       Harry moved to hug the other man. “Hurry back,” he whispered.
       “I will,” Sirius smiled at his godchild before he backed away, gently
disentangling himself from the younger wizard. “Stay strong and put up with
Ginny for the moment. Use the time to hide deep within yourself and plan or to
think about what you really want. In the end, if she is necessary then we will
need her and willing is always so much better.”
       “I will,” Harry agreed as he reached out to the Hogwart’s gate, placing
his hand on it and willing it to open. It creaked slightly but opened and at
Sirius’ nod, he slipped through, intent on heading to bed.
       Outside in the cold night air, Sirius smiled before he walked away.
Harry was not yet sure of the future, but he was sure of the path and that
would be enough.
      
***** It’s All a Game, Except When it Isn’t *****
Weapon
Chapter 37 It’s All a Game, Except When it Isn’t
       Harry smiled at the young witch beside him. It was almost sad that Ginny
didn’t see, couldn’t see that it was only a shadow. The smile represented an
emotion he didn’t feel for her and if she had of truly loved him she would have
walked away. And in time she would have found him to be one of the best friends
she would ever have.
       As Sirius had suggested the other night he had locked his true self deep
in his mind and was currently contemplating what he wanted, what he truly
wanted. He was working through the childish answer of wanting his Dark Lord.
That went without saying. And he knew what Voldemort wanted, but what did he
want? That was a far more complicated question.
       He didn’t really want to fight but he knew that was necessary. The
problem was that he couldn’t really answer the question of what he wanted so he
tried to think about what was wrong with the world. Voldemort would be making
changes and Harry had naively said that his job would be to make those changes
not based in blood but the mechanism of being able to make those changes would
be bloody. There was no real choice about that blood but about what came after
and the best Harry could think of was that he wanted to change what was wrong
with the wizarding world.
       To him what was wrong was pretty simple but Harry didn’t know how easy
it would be to fix it. It was possible just changing the ruler would be enough,
especially as Harry would be there to moderate Voldemort’s policies but as
Sirius had slyly suggested, Harry didn’t really want to remain in the shadows
forever. His position as the Dark Lord’s mate would become clear at the end of
the year, he couldn’t remain in shadow when that happened. He may not wish to
rule but he would have to take his place beside his beloved.
       :Ruling doesn’t actually mean much you know,: the Shadow’s whispered
deep in his mind.
       :Doesn’t it?:
       :Ruling is just getting what you want, and for you Master, that’s a
given,: they quipped.
       Harry chuckled. :So you want me to rule?:
       :More to provide guidance,: they amended. :We have noticed that human
society, whether muggle or wizard, are based heavily on their leaders. Where
the leaders are good, fair and reasonable, the society tends to follow that
norm, but where the leaders are despotic, psychotic and unbalanced then society
degrades. You won’t need to make the day to day decisions, that’s what others
are for, but you will need to be there to provide guidance on what the
standards are. And that you can do, Master, and you will do it very well.:
       :I seem to recall a vision a while back, where I was sitting on the
throne and the Dark Lord stood beside me.:
       :We remember something similar.:
       :Did you plan that?:
       :No. That was a genuine vision of what may have come to pass at the
time. If you were to have a vision now, we imagine it would be different.:
       :Then I suppose I better think about what policies I want.:
       :Perhaps you should.:
       :Though.... there is one thing I did think about.:
       :Hmm?:
       :I realise it’s late but could you get someone for me?:
       :Get someone?:
       :Yes, get someone, as in bring them here as a prisoner.:
       :Who?:
       Harry felt the Shadow’s smile. He could play nice politics but they were
pleased he could be ruthless when called for.... or when he wanted. :Wilbur
O'Haresh,: Harry said the name. :I think the werewolves might like him.:
       :We’ll have him,: the Shadow’s said dubiously, obviously not knowing who
the wizard was.
       :Trust me, they will love him.: Harry added with an inward chuckle. It
was nice to know that sometimes he could get the better of them.
       :If you say so,: the Shadow’s said accepting the small pulse of energy
Harry feed to them.
       :Thank you,: Harry said with a smile as he settled within himself. While
he didn’t know exactly what was going to happen, he felt much lighter with at
least a few things worked out so that now he could focus on more important
things, like petting Xaos since the huge basilisk was curled around his mental
self as a living cocoon.
       Or as his false self took Ginny around Hogsmead with the others, he
could begin working on his Mastery papers. He was nowhere near ready to submit
a final work but along the way he had to present progress papers and some were
nearly due.
       :Do both.:
       :Xaos is asleep.:
       -Not that much asleep.-
       Harry laughed, reaching out one hand to run it over his basilisk’s soft,
almost downy crest. –Enjoy the moment, Master,- Xaos advised him, -because the
Phoenix is not gone yet and I believe the King will be making moves to keep to
the one year deadline.-
       -I will,- Harry promised as he lay back, resting on Xaos. –I will.-
===
       For early winter, it was a lovely day. It was overcast but the steel
grey clouds were holding back their rain which on a day like today would fall
as piercing sleet. But the air didn’t smell like rain or snow so most of the
Hogwart’s students, those who could were laughing and smiling as they walked
down the well-travelled path to the township of Hogsmead. They knew there was a
war and a few looked grim but for most, the only concession to the continued
hostilities was to make sure they did not walk alone. Some of the Prefects
watched as did the Teachers, their nerves carefully concealed. The Dark Lord
had already shown that he would attack defenceless targets and since for the
last week or so he had been unusually quiet, most felt that an attack was just
a matter of time. Hogsmead, while protected, was not as well guarded as
Hogwarts.
       In the interests of safety Harry walked with Ginny and the rest of their
friends. He’d pulled the red haired witch aside for a moment earlier and
apologised that he couldn’t take her alone because of the situation and the
look of absolute joy she had given him was painfully bright. Everything seemed
to be going well on the walk down but Harry was aware of eyes on him. It wasn’t
a vampire. Or if it was, someone else was watching.
       :Want to tell me who is watching?:
       There was one thing his fake self could do, and that was interact with
the Shadows for petty little things that they were expected to do for him.
       :The better question might be who is not watching,: the Shadow’s
replied.
       :Who is watching then?: Harry asked looking around as they approached
the outskirts of Hogsmead. Hermione took charge of their group, asking everyone
where they wanted to go and organising the schedule so that they could visit
just about everywhere together. She had taken the safety spiel to heart, though
Harry couldn’t bring himself to blame her. She was doing her best. They would
end up at The Three Broomsticks later in the day for butter beer which suited
him. He’d slip away after to The Hogs Head.
       :Well, first off we do have a vampire!: The Shadow’s began the list,
making the names sound almost like the announcement for some muggle television
game show. :Followed closely by one Draco Malfoy! And rather surprisingly your
friend, Hermione has been watching you all day, and last but not least, Fawkes,
the immortal Phoenix is keeping close tabs on you.:
       Suddenly Harry was very glad that his true self was submerged so deeply
today. While an echo of frustration could be covered as many things –
frustration at the Dark Lord, at his studies, at the necessity of all this
caution – frustration at having to spend time with Ginny was one thing that
would raise alarms. It was slightly surprising though. With the Phoenix spying
within him, he would have thought he could feel it, or had the feeling of being
watched externally over ridden the phoenix?
       :You are not meant to be sensitive to him,: the Shadow’s reminded him
and Harry nodded. It didn’t matter. It just meant he had to be on good
behaviour, and he’d been created to be good behaviour.
       “All right!” Hermione was saying. :We’ll go to Honeyduke’s first, then
Zonko’s. I need to stop by Scrivenshaft’s and Luna said she needed to go to
Dervish and Banges. After that we can head to the Three Broomsticks for
butterbeer. No one needs to go anywhere else?”
       “I need to go to the Post Office,” Neville said, “but it’s on the way to
the Three Broomsticks so there’s no rush.”
       The bushy haired witch nodded and everyone gave her a short nod in
return. “Okay!” Hermione said, turning down the cobbled street. “Let’s go!”
       “Yes Ma’am!” Harry and Ron snapped out, the two of them smiling at each
other when Hermione spun back at them, with a half outraged expression.
       The group laughed and began walking, Ron, quickly leading the way as he
no doubt wanted to get some sweets from Honeydukes.
       “My brother is such a glutton!” Ginny said. “You’d think by now he
wouldn’t just rush to see Honeydukes or Zonko’s since he’s seen them before but
no...”
       Hermione smiled at her, using the opportunity to flick her eyes
carefully over Harry. “I think it’s rather sweet,” she said. “Besides, since
Christmas is coming up, he probably wants to get some presents.”
       Ginny’s blue eyes opened a little at that and she flushed. She still had
no idea what to get Harry and when she glanced over at him, he didn’t seem at
all fazed. Had he somehow already done his shopping? Somehow Harry read her
gaze and he grinned, the expression making him look carefree. “I got your
present already,” he murmured and Ginny felt the flush turn into a full blush.
       Harry chuckled at her, slinging his arm over her shoulders to draw her
close and Ginny went even redder. “You are so cute,” he whispered and half
expected to hear Draco’s stringent voice making some objection but the blond
was nowhere in sight.
       The flash of a camera was much worse.
       They both barely had the chance to look around and only caught the
outline of someone running down between two buildings disappearing before
either witch or wizard could react.
       “Darn it!” Harry swore.
       “Harry,” Ginny’s voice was concerned.
       The green eyed wizard forced himself to take a deep breath. “It’s not
you, Ginny,” he said softly. “Just with the current situation, someone taking a
photo and running is not likely to have the best outcome.”
       “What do you mean?”
       He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Was she really that naïve? “You
know the Dark Lord wants me?” The question carried meaning on so many levels
and the red haired witch nodded.
       “Do you think he will like it if I openly flaunt another?”
       It took a moment for the meaning to sink in and Ginny gasped, her blue
eyes going wide as she frantically looked around.
       Harry sighed. “It’s all right, Gin,” he whispered, leaning in close to
her. “I’m not ashamed, I just wanted to keep it a secret a while longer because
that was the safest way.”
       “We could fight?” She offered in a tiny voice.
       “No,” Harry said, thankful that his real self was not paying attention. 
His real self may only have needed the Dark Lord, but he needed Ginny. “It’s
all right,” he said again, linking one arm through Ginny’s ignoring her
startled look. “At least this way we don’t have to hide anymore.”
       The way she smiled up at him made his heart flutter and Harry revelled
in the feel of what could have been.
===
       The day had gone reasonably well, all things considered. They had
managed to visit most of the shops that their group needed and over all the
feeling in Hogsmead was almost festive. Harry watched as Ginny spoke with one
of her friends while they waited outside the Post Office for Neville to finish
inside. She was happy. She was so happy she appeared to be glowing and where
such misplaced happiness usually made him feel sorry, for Ginny he felt
nothing. He did not care that she would hurt herself.
       Harry sighed and looked up at the sky. The clouds were still in evidence
though they were darkening as dusk began to fall. It was a little difficult to
determine exactly what time it was without seeing the sun but he figured it was
late afternoon. He’d need to see about breaking off from the others so that he
could meet the Werewolves in a few hours.
       Ginny’s continued talking oblivious to his distraction.  He didn’t know
why he felt such apathy towards her feelings.  With the head of the DMLE Amelia
Bones he felt a small amount of genuine distress towards her plight.  He felt
sympathy for that witch and it was a sympathy that he did not feel for Ginny. 
Perhaps it was because Madam Bones had no way of knowing the truth while Ginny
should have known it all too well.  Harry sighed again and extended his
senses. 
       Around him he could feel the town of Hogsmead bustling with the presence
of the students of Hogwart’s.  It appeared that most were heading towards the
Three Broomsticks having concluded their shopping.  It was certainly quieter
than it had been earlier.  Around the town though he could feel the forest and
in the distance the solid would presence of the castle of Hogwarts.  Green eyes
blinked and Harry sharpened his focus seeking to define individual presences
before he hissed, narrowing his concentration on the Forbidden Forest.
       It should have been teeming with life. While it wasn’t the most
hospitable place for wizards, he should have been able to sense the myriad of
wildlife, both magical and otherwise that made their homes there, even at the
edges. But he could feel nothing. The edge of the forest seemed cold and dark
but he could sense life deep within it, too deep within it to be natural.
Something had driven the forest’s inhabitants into its depths.
       His shark of alarm alerted Fawkes and Harry felt the phoenix shift in
his mind. Deliberately he turned towards one of his shadows who had been
trailing unobtrusively the entire day. :Go find out what is in the forest,: he
instructed. He’d shown Sturges what the Shadows could do, and no doubt there
was a complete report on Dumbledore’s desk, so ordering his servants to spy was
something Fawkes would be happy to see him do.
       After a moment the shadow returned and whispered into his mind. :There
are Dementors there.:
       :Fawkes!: Harry immediately called for the fire bird and he felt the
phoenix respond.
       :Are they attacking?: the question was intent.
       Harry looked to the shadow who had reported in. Somehow he could see the
gesture it made in denial while around him his friends continued to chat
amicably, completely unaware of the potential danger. :They are probably
gathering for an attack,: Harry reported.
       :Then we have a little bit of time,: Fawkes said. :I’ll get the
Professors to start getting the students to come back to the Castle,: the
phoenix continued. :Can you get a count on how many there are?:
       :Just a minute,: Harry replied and flicked his eyes at the shadow. It
disappeared again, taking a bit longer before it reappeared, stretching
smoothly over the Post Office.
       :There’s about fifty Dementors,: the shadow reported.
       :Fifty!: Fawkes was stunned. There weren’t that many Dementors. No one
was sure exactly how many there were but fifty was a fair proportion of their
colony.
       “Students!” The call came via someone’s sonorous enhanced voice. “Please
start making your way back to Hogwarts!”
       There were a few gasps but for the most part the students began moving
back towards the castle with only some minor grumbling.
       :Harry, get your friends to start up and wait somewhere safe. The Order
is on its way,: Fawkes said.
       Deep inside Harry snorted. The Order was on its way.... Oh joy! He felt
so much safer already. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he turned
towards Ginny and the other girl she had been talking to. Neville, Luna and Ron
were emerging from the Post Office and Hermione was coming out of the Quill
shop. They turned to him and he could see the expectation in their faces.
       “Go back to Hogwarts,” Harry ordered with a small smile to soften the
command.
       “What’s wrong Harry?” Ginny asked.
       “There’s just something in the Forest,” he said. “I’ll tell you later,
for now you all really do need to head back to Hogwarts.”
       “What about you?” the red haired witch objected and Harry was given yet
another reminder of why he could not love Ginny. He should have felt touched
that she was concerned, instead he felt annoyed that she was not taking the
path she had been instructed to. She was selfish and it was a selfishness which
would hurt. The feelings bubbled around him, deep in his mind but on the
surface all he felt, and all Fawkes felt was a tenderness towards the young
witch.
       “I’ll be okay,” Harry said with another smile. “Fawkes wants me to stay
here.” As the others turned around, he placed his hands on Ginny’s shoulders
and turned her to face him so that his green eyes could look deeply into her
blue. “Go,” he whispered to her. “This is what I was training to do and what I
have to do,” he added trying to smile gently.
       It seemed to work and Harry was a little started when Ginny reached out
to embrace him before she pulled back, placing one kiss on his nose and turning
away. “Be safe,” he heard her whisper with a little catch in her voice.
       “I will,” Harry said, feeling relieved as she left. While Ginny didn’t
see reality, when it was explained she seemed accepting so perhaps there was
something he could work with there. It was the act of explaining that left him
exasperated.
       As his friends disappeared, Harry looked around. If it came to a battle
with the Dementors he wanted somewhere that was a bit more defensible. And the
street just wasn’t going to be enough. They’d run through some simulations over
the summer but he wasn’t sure there was any place suitable to fight Dementors
in Hogsmead. Well.... there really wasn’t any place that was suitable to fight
Dementors anywhere. Their abilities made them far too dangerous to take on for
most Witches and Wizards, especially in the numbers that the Shadow had
reported back were present. One to one, a witch or Wizard could fight, even if
there was a small group they could hold out, but against that many with their
combined power, that was something of a futile task unless there was a
correspondingly large group of fighters. And at the moment, the Order was not
yet here.
       Harry could feel them approaching. There was a large group of witches
and wizards pelting down from the castle and they would be here soon but he
wondered what the Dementors were thinking. Why hadn’t they attacked, and why
hadn’t they left when the call for the students to retreat had been given? What
were they waiting for?
       :Go and spy more on the Dementors,: Harry instructed the shadows and was
happy when they flicked away while others came closer to him, stretching around
him. :Find out what they are up to,: he added, knowing that the shadows who had
already left would hear his intention. He moved himself, walking through
Hogsmead as the store owners and villagers closed up their shops and barricaded
their doors. There had been no formal notification but the witches and wizards
who lived in Hogsmead were not stupid, they knew what the call to the students
of Hogswart meant.
       And this was perhaps what was wrong with the Magical world. They did not
care, and would not move to protect anything than what they understood, what
they held dear. They needed the shakeup that Voldemort wished. They needed to
change. He came to the centre of the township and looked around. It was
completely quiet and Harry wasn’t sure what he should do. The members of the
Order of the Phoenix were nearly there but the Dementors were still hanging
around at the edge of the Forest. They didn’t appear to be interested in coming
closer and Harry frowned, wondering what they could be up to.
       “Where are they?” one of the members of the Order gasped as they ran up
to Harry. Like most wizards he needed to be fitter. Very few wizards considered
physical conditioning to be important and it showed.
       “They are still in the forest,” Harry replied as his servants reported
to him that the Dementors hadn’t moved.
       A couple of the Order members grinned, “That makes this easy then.” They
seemed inordinately happy and Harry wasn’t sure why until another one gave the
command. “Patronus’ now!” And then he realised what they thought would happen.
They thought they could cast their patronus’ here and drive off the Dementors,
all without getting close. Inwardly Harry shook his head at the sheer naivety
of the wizards. Centuries had dulled their ability to think but he raised his
wand with the others and cast his Patronus with them, watching as it ran off
into the distance towards the Dementors.
       After a few minutes there came a high pitched squeal and in the distance
they saw the flying forms of Dementors rise into the air, some being pursued by
glowing white Patronus’ and others just scattering. There was a cheer from the
gathered members of the Order and Harry suppressed his sigh. They knew so
little and it almost hurt to be associated with them.
       “Good work everyone, and good work Harry for detecting them,” one of the
older members of the Order said and Harry ducked his head almost shily, just as
some Auror’s appeared with soft pops.
       “Where are the Dementors?”
       Harry snapped to attention. He was an Apprentice Auror so in this
situation his loyalty was a bit skewed. “They were in the Forbidden Forest,
Sir!” he reported gesturing with one hand towards the forest, where a few
Dementors could be seen streaming away.
       “Patronus’!” the Auror commanded and his team replied sending their
glowing Patronus’ into the forest to follow the Order’s.
       :Most of the Dementors have gone deeper into the forest,: one of the
Shadow’s said to Harry and he suppressed a sigh, making a little bit of light
for them to eat. He could tell from their tone that they had something more to
say but they wouldn’t speak while the Phoenix was paying such close attention.
       “Harry could you please confirm that the Dementors have left?” the Auror
commander asked him and Harry was slightly surprised but pleased to see that
someone at least remembered what his servants abilities were and with some show
he turned and ordered the Shadows to go look at where the Dementors were.
       After a few moments they came back and reported making sure that the
gathered Aurors and Order could hear them. “The Dementors have gone deeper into
the Forest but they appear to be leaving.”
       “Why were they here?”
       “We don’t know,” the Shadows answered the Aurors question easily without
prompting from Harry. Some of the older Aurors nodded and Harry was thankful
for their presence. They wouldn’t expect the Shadows to be able to do
everything and speculating on why the Dementors were there was definitely
beyond the capabilities they were meant to have. Of course his Servants by now
would know what the Dementors had been up to but that was not something that
the rest of the world needed to know.
       “Well,” said the leading Auror, “I don’t think anyone wants to pursue
the Dementor’s through the Forest,” he added as his Patronus reported back and
disappated. “Good catch, Apprentice,” he complimented the young wizard before
turning to talk to some of the Order.
       That left Harry at a bit of a loss but he felt relieved when Fawkes’
attention was diverted. :Good work,: he complimented the Shadows but refrained
from asking what they had found from the Dementors. That would have to wait
until Fawkes’ attention was completely off him.
       For a moment Harry wondered what he should do. He hadn’t been dismissed
by either the Aurors or the Order and he was just left standing around. The
thought made him smile. They probably didn’t mean it but in this little way
they were treating him like everyone else. There were more than a few who were
just watching as the respective squad leaders spoke though it was odd to see
Professor MacGonagall in that role. She did seem to take to it well though.
       Eventually the two finished discussion and after one long look around
the Auror Leader snapped out a command and the Ministry Officials vanished,
leaving Harry with the Order. Before he was packed back up to the Castle like
the rest of the children Harry knew he needed to act so he smiled as his Head
of House and moved forward.
       “Professor, before I head back to the castle, might I have some time to
calm down?” He asked in his most reasonable voice. It was hardly his best
excuse but perhaps simple would be workable here.
       The older witch looked startled for an instant before she looked at him,
really looked at him. Over the summer with their one to one classes she had
realised how little she really knew about Harry and they had worked on that.
Minerva couldn’t say she could read him like a book but she knew now that when
he asked for things, he needed them because it was not in his nature to ask
authority for anything. Curse his upbringing!
       “Be back by curfew please,” the feline animagus said softly after a long
pause in which Harry felt Fawkes take a brief look around his mind before the
phoenix disappeared. MacGoganall was rewarded when Harry smiled at her. It made
the decision so much easier. “I will let your friends know you will be back
later.”
       Harry’s smile brightened and he nodded his thanks before he slipped
away, going down one of the alley ways to put some distance between the Order
and himself. They would be leaving shortly but he had some preparations to make
before he met the Werewolves.
===
Lucius blinked pale eyes in the darkness. For the moment, he was remarkably
lucid but then every now and then the Dark Lord liked to leave him alone. It
made him wonder when the pain would be back and what torture would be inflicted
upon him. He tried to keep those thoughts from his mind as the slowly brought
his vision into focus.
       There were chains on his arms and legs and around his throat. The blond
had long ago gotten used to the pressure on his shoulders so didn’t even bother
twitching to try to settle into a more comfortable position. There wasn’t any
other position that was comfortable. The drip of water came to him constantly
as did the soft moans and occasional screams of the others in the dungeon. He’d
seen these dungeons before, and even if he was at full health, with his wand
Lucius didn’t fancy his chances of escape… with the Dementors a cold, grasping
presence in his mind and in the levels, he knew escape was not an option.
       He had only one means of escape, and the Dark Lord was meticulous in
blocking that.
       So why was his still alive? That question had been weighing on him for a
few days. The Dark Lord would say it was because he had yet to scream his name,
but Lucius was not so naïve. His former Lord was never that simple. The last of
his followers had been murdered the day after Halloween and Lucius had heard
rumours that Severus Snape had been declared a traitor but had been given to
some other force the Dark Lord was allied wi….
       A gasp escaped Lucius’ mouth and he suppressed a grimace as the
involuntary movement caused all the little cuts and abrasions on him to strain,
sending a pulse of pain through him.
       No matter what his former Lord claimed, he was sensible, he knew that
the only good enemy was a dead enemy, so despite pretence otherwise, he was not
the one keeping Lucius alive. It had to be that group he was allied with.  But
what did they want?
       What were they?
       The vampire had told him ‘If the Shadows know life, you have lost’ but
had never explained what the Shadows were and Lucius had taken the warning to
be…. Well he wasn’t really sure what he had taken the warning to mean. He
definitely hadn’t expected it to be what it was. If anything he’d thought it
was some generic warning about daylight since he’d attacked at night when there
were no shadows…. But the elder Vampire had meant something much more literal,
he had meant some power that only he had known about…. Only he and the Dark
Lord.
       What were they?
       Lucius frowned as he focused his mind, suddenly thankful for the rest
periods he was allowed. He was still resting, and when his former Lord returned
to pick up torture again, it would feel that much worse because his nerves had
gotten a taste of normalcy but it was allowing him to think.
       The Shadows were obviously much more than an esoteric concept. They had
agents and those agents were very powerful if the ability of the one he had
seen was any indication. Killing vampires that easily was not something to take
lightly and it made sense that Xeoaph would know about anything that could kill
him or his children that easily. But the Shadows couldn’t be just agents or
wizards with extra training. Vampires would not fear something like that
because sooner or later, if the Shadows were just wizards they would have made
a mistake and the vampires would have brought them down. No, they had to be
something else….
       But what could they possibly be?
       He’d seen them around his former Lord, all black and inky and while they
looked like shadows, Lucius was reluctant to call them that. Shadows were meant
to be insubstantial… they were meant to be something you produced when you
stepped into the light. They were something you never thought about, or
something some used to amuse children, something that was there because you
cast the shadow.
       Grey eyes blinked. They were meant to be something you controlled, so
why…. How did they have the power to take control?
       His thoughts were interrupted by a chuckle and Lucius half expected one
of the inky black things to be hovering near the door, but the light was clear.
For some reason the Shadows had seemed reluctant to speak to him.
       :Oh, we aren’t reluctant. There’s just no point.:
       Lucius jerked his head upwards and was immediately sorry when the
movement caused it to start pounding. Dehydration was taking its toll and the
headache was an almost constant companion.
       :You see, you can’t even hold a conversation.:
       Slowly, the blond lowered his head, forcing his breathing to be deep and
even as he waited for the pain to subside. If he was still and gentle enough it
went away for a few moments, or at least went away enough for him to think.
“What are you?” the elder Malfoy hissed eventually.
       :We are Shadow,: came the unhelpful reply.
       “What are you really?” He asked again.
       :We are really Shadow.:
       “Don’t play with me!” Lucius didn’t care about the pain as he raised
grey eyes to glare at them… or at least to glare at what he thought was them.
       :We play everything, Lucius,: the Shadow voice became serious though the
words were almost that of a child. :We play everything for the glory of our
Master.:
       “The Dark Lord?”
       The Shadows laughed, and Malfoy was surprised to hear genuine amusement
in their tone. :The Lord Voldemort is not our Master. We require someone a bit
more pure. You saw him, you know him, you just don’t believe it.:
       “Because it’s not possible.”
       :Of course it’s possible.:
       “How?”
       :Now that is a decent question.: The blond wizard wasn’t sure how he
should take that praise. He wasn’t sure it was praise though it sounded like
it.
       “How?” He repeated the question.
       :What he told you at the time is true Lucius. We are here because our
Master supports the Dark Lord. You were there Malfoy, you know what happened,
you know the Dark Lord did… but perhaps you don’t understand what the Light
did?: the last was said speculatively, as if it could answer every question.
       “What did the Light do?” Lucius forced himself to ask and while his mind
still rebelled at the concept, at the memory of what he had seen, Harry Potter
sitting in the Dark Lord’s throne, defending the evil wizard… Kissing the man…
That should not have been possible.
       :The Light? The Light did nothing Lucius,: the Shadows replied after a
moment of silence. :They didn’t even watch. They acted only when forced to.
They did not defend and yet still they make demands.:
       Malfoy didn’t understand all of that but he understood enough. He’d been
there at the trial, he knew what had happened and if no changes had been made
he knew what would have continued… He knew what his son… Oh Merlin! Draco!
       :It’s too late for him,: the voice was colder than a Dementor’s touch.
       “No! He’s just a boy!”
       :Old enough.:
       “He can’t possibly be considered old enough!” Lucius said with force.
       The Shadows went silent for a moment and the blond sensed the change in
them before they spoke again. He couldn’t see any difference in the darkness of
his cell but somehow the temperature dropped and their tone took on an air of
true evil. :Do you truly know what your son did?: The question was almost
beneath the captive wizard’s hearing but somehow Lucius knew that he would have
always heard that voice.
       “He said something about rape and Avada Kedrava,” the blond said. “But
Draco would not touch anyone like that…”
       The answer brought him a short hiss of unamused laughter. :You don’t
know your son very well, do you?: the tone was still cold.
       Lucius closed his eyes. He had dismissed what the Dark Lord had told him
but with the Shadows it was harder to deny their words. He thought he had
taught his son to be better than that. Surely the Scion of Malfoy would not
have sullied his hands such? “He wouldn’t have… It was ingrained upon him never
to…” the chained wizard wasn’t sure how to continue.
       :Ah!: The cold didn’t disappear from the Shadow voice but a note of
understanding entered it. It was amazing how many feelings they could portray
just with their voice but Lucius rather sillily thought that they had had
practice over the years with not having a face. They were amazingly expressive.
:You misunderstand Lucius,: they said softly. :Your son did not touch our
Master. He did something worse, though from your point of view, it is in
keeping with his upbringing. He arranged for others to do his dirty work. In
that, he inherited the Malfoy will very well. Unlike you, he does not do his
own dirty work. But now, we thought we would give you a choice.:
       “A choice?” the elder Malfoy did not understand. What could their
possibly be for him to choose? No one in this stronghold would give him a
choice about anything, not without risking their Lord’s wrath. He could not
die, he could not do anything, yet these insubstantial Shadows thought they
could give him a choice?
       :So self-centred,: they muttered. :It’s not a choice for yourself,
Lucius, rather for your son.:
       “What choice?”
       :In good time your wife and son will stand before the Dark Lord in
chains. Your wife’s fate has already been decided for she would stand beside
you until the end. The Dark Lord has her but your son belongs to us. And since
he arranged for others to violate our Master, we thought we would give you the
choice. What exactly would you like to violate his pretty little arse first?:
       Their sudden crass question caught Lucius by surprise and he almost
didn’t understand at first.  He swallowed hard. “He wouldn’t want that,” the
blond said, referring to the Shadow’s proclaimed master. He had his doubts
about Harry Potter being their master but if they said he was, then perhaps
there were expectations he could lay upon them.
       :Who?:
       “Your master. He wouldn’t want that.”
       :He wouldn’t want what?:
       “Your master was raped many times in his childhood,” Lucius explained
patiently, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Not only would that antagonise
the Shadows, it would set off his aching head. “He wouldn’t want another to go
through what he did.”
       The darkness chuckled and the blond suddenly felt less sure of himself.
:A nice try Lucius and you are somewhat correct. Our master would not want
anyone to have to go through what he did, not even his worst enemy. In fact, he
only recently killed those responsible… but here’s the thing… We would want his
worst enemy to go through it.:
       “But he won’t let you.”
       :Oh Lucius! You wizards are so amusing. Won’t let? How can he forbid
what he does not know about? Your son will be in chains in the Dark Lord’s
stronghold and our Master will be elsewhere. The Lord Voldemort has already
given Draco to us, so we ask again, what would you like to penetrate his pretty
arse first?:
       “You can’t!”
       :Of course we can. There are plenty of Voldemort’s followers who like
their sport young and unwilling. The more fight Draco puts up, the more they
will like it, though we may have to persuade them that he’s young enough.:
       “No! Your master won’t… He would… He will forbid you from having anyone
raped. Those who enjoy that particular past time will soon be finding it
against the Dark Lord’s wishes. As much as you want to threaten that, you
can’t.”
       :We can do pretty much what we want Lucius, but we will play along with
you for now. If our master forbids us from having anyone touch the waste you
spawned, there are still so many things for you to choose from. Or are you
saying you want his first time to be with someone?
       :Think about it Lucius. We’ll want an answer when we decide to talk with
you again.:
       The captive wizard had looked to the ground for an instant but in that
moment the feeling in his cell changed. It was still cold, there were too many
Dementors in the Dark Lord’s stronghold for it not to be cold but the cell
seemed lighter and the elder Malfoy realised that between one word and the next
the Shadows had vanished. He let out a long breath and firmly put thoughts of
Draco being captured from his mind. That was what they wanted. They wanted him
to think Narcissa would fail. Lucius had no idea what she was doing, but he
knew, she would not fail. He was realistic, his surviving was… unlikely but
their son would live on.
       Lucius closed his eyes as he realised that none of his questions about
the Shadows had been answered. He still didn’t know what they were and despite
their seeming confidence, he was well aware how much that sometimes hid the
truth. He would not take their confidence as anything more than bravado.
       He would hold out for as long as he could and he would not give in to
the doubts they wanted him to have, just as he would not say the name his
former Lord wanted him to scream.
===
       Neville looked with some distaste at his Potions Homework. Snape had
been absent for weeks but they were all still dutifully filling out the
expected essays and inches of parchment. As Hermione had said, even if the
Potion Master never returned, they still needed to know the course work. But
right at the moment he couldn’t concentrate on it. Christmas was coming and
while he had most of his presents already bought, there was something that he
hadn’t arranged yet.
       He looked around. Harry was scratching some notes into a parchment
though he didn’t appear to be paying too much attention to it. Ron was deep
into some essay and his tongue was sticking out just a little bit with his
concentration. Hermione seemed to be helping Ginny and Luna with some finer
points on the notes they were working on. Everyone seemed to be being
industrious but Neville could tell that they were like him. They didn’t really
want to be studying at the moment.
       “Guys.”
       “Hmm,” Harry looked up with a soft smile.
       “What are you all doing for Christmas?”
       Ron and Ginny looked at each other. While they usually went home, they
had both spoken with their parents and the family had agreed that it would be
best if they stayed where Harry was. Hermione smiled at Neville and Luna just
looked at him oddly. Harry shrugged. “I’ll be here,” he said, “Unless the Dark
Lord decides to attack somewhere.”
       “Well then,” Neville gulped, as he gathered himself, “On Christmas Day,
would you all like to come to my house? If it’s just for the day, it should be
secure enough.”
       Harry smiled. “That would be great, Neville.”
       His decision pretty much decided the rest of them and pretty soon
Neville was surrounded by smiles as the little group agreed to meet at
Longbottom Manor for Christmas Afternoon… if the appropriate clearances could
be arranged. They’d leave their presents until then as well, so that they could
open them together.
       “Okay! Now that that is decided, Harry, I have a far more important
question,” Neville joked to hide his sudden embarrassment. He had hoped that
they would come, just that he never thought it would be that easy.
       “What is it?” The green eyed wizard asked gently.
       Neville grinned. “How’s the Quidditch team coming?”
       Harry chuckled from deep in his throat. “They are going well.”
       “We’d be going better if you quit the early morning training,” Ron
mockingly complained.
       “So you are all fighting fit for the match with Slytherin?”
       It was Ginny who laughed this time. “They won’t know what hit them.”
       Harry nodded. “Draco’s not the Captain but he’s still their Seeker.”
       “Only ‘cos they can’t find anyone to replace him.”
       “He’s still their Seeker,” Harry reiterated, “And while he’s not up to
my level, if he actually concentrates he’s not that bad.”
       “What?” After the startled exclamation there was silence.
       “Hmm?” Harry questioned, raising one eyebrow. He knew what his friends
thought was wrong but this was also fun.
       :Can you talk to us too now?:
       :Why now?:
       :Fawkes has decided he doesn’t need to listen to teenage chit chat.:
       :What is it?:
       “Harry, how could you!?” Ron asked, his voice shocked.
       :It’s the Dementors. They left a message when you went to Hogsmead.:
       “How could I what?” :What do they have to say?:
       “How could you even imply that Malfoy has talent?”
       :They can do what you want but they need more power.:
       :Power?: “It’s pretty easy Ron,” Harry said with a wry smile. “When
Draco is not trying to be a prat, he has some skill. Think of it like this….
Hmm… how to put this?”
       :Power. The bodies are too weak by themselves. They will need an
external power source to complete the transformation.:
       :Ah… I’ll see what I can do. Tell the Dementors to go as far as they can
anyway.:
       :We will,: the Shadows said, caressing their master.
       “How to put what?”
       Harry sighed. “Think about it like Charms class or something like that.
When you actually apply yourself, you get results, but if you don’t pay
attention and just go through the motions, you might get a result, but the
spell will probably fail. Draco’s like that for Quidditch. If he gives up his
pretences, then he’s got some skill.”
       “Pretences?” Predictably enough Ron questioned what that was, while most
of the others nodded knowingly. They were surprised that Harry had admitted
that Draco may have some ability but they weren’t incapacitated by their shock.
Their green eyed friend’s explanation made sense… though it was somewhat
galling to have to admit that the ferret had skill in anything beyond toadying.
       :Did you apologise to Voldemort for me?:
       :Of course not. If we did, we’d owe him a favour. We explained, but you
will have to apologise.:
       :Ta,: Harry replied, his mind voice thick with sarcasm.
       “Pretense,” Hermione began the explanation. “It’s when he takes on those
airs.”
       “Oh please! He doesn’t take on those airs, he was born with them!” Ron
objected.
       “He does Ron… at least some of the time,” Hermione added the last with a
small smile.
       :Oh don’t worry,: the Shadow’s assured their master, :we are sure you
can make it up to him.:
       :Is that all?:
       :For the moment.:
       “Don’t fight,” Harry said before his two oldest friends began bicker in
earnest. “No matter how skilled Draco is, I’m better.” He let his features
settle into a cocky little grin as he took one of Ginny’s hands in his own. It
was a sentimental gesture but he needed it. Or rather, those watching needed
it. Mentally Harry shook his head, driving that thought away. It was one of
those truths he had to be economical about.
       “But what if the Dark Lord attacks?” Ginny asked in a small voice.
       “Then you will just have to school Draco for me,” Harry said, turning
towards the red haired witch and giving her a soft smile.
       The rest of their friends grinned, though Luna did look somewhat
subdued.
       “If Voldemort does attack,” Harry added, ignoring the way the room
flinched at his use of the name, “he won’t know what hit him. I wantto play
that game and I will not appreciate being called into some battle squad.”
       Neville chuckled. “I can see there is nothing to worry about with
Quidditch,” he said before yawning hugely. “Oh excuse me!” the brown haired
wizard added. “I think I’ll head to bed,” Neville said as he began collecting
his books.
       “Good idea,” Harry agreed. “A slightly early night will be the best for
us I think.” Even Hermione agreed. “Luna, would you like me to walk you back to
the Ravenclaw Common Room?” Curfew was in effect for most students, but Harry
had the run of the castle and while he didn’t always use his privileges,
sometimes they came in handy.
       “That would be nice, Harry,” the blonde said gently.
       Harry brought Ginny’s hand to his lips and kissed it gently. “Sleep,
Ginny, you need it,” he whispered to her and he allowed the feeling of warmth
her smile awoke within him to flush through him. With one of the wizarding
magazines having published that photo of him and Ginny in Hogsmead, it had made
his life both easier and harder. Easier because he was now able to give public
displays of affection to Ginny, which reinforced his charade but far, far
harder, because he resented every moment he had to spend. And the red haired
witch knew it! She knew who he loved, she knew he did not love her, not that
way, but she was not willing to give him up. The bond he had severed still
pulsed within him, just the way she had wanted it but even though Harry knew
he’d probably have an opportunity to use it, to use her life force, so that he
could survive, he was reluctant to. She had not known what she was getting
into, and really Ginny had only been trying to help but he also felt, that if
he used her life force, somehow he would be owing her.., her shade at least and
he did not like the feeling of owing anyone anything. It was a complex thing,
layered feelings that interacted with each other than he was torn between
exasperation and frustration. He just didn’t know what to do with her. So for
now, he went with the charade. At least until he could work out what could be
done.
       “Be careful,” Ginny whispered.
       “I will,” he smiled as he led Luna out of the portrait. The others were
packing up and slowly heading upstairs and he gave them a small wave good bye.
       “You don’t have to, you know.”
       “Don’t have to what?”
       “Walk me back to the Common Room.”
       “I know,” Harry said easily. “But I thought I would use this as an
opportunity to let you know how things were going.”
       Luna’s grey eyes lit with excitement. “So what is happening?”
       Harry chuckled.  “At the moment, not much. But you might want to ask
about how the Ministry’s detection devices are coming along.”
       “Detection devices?” Luna hadn’t heard anything about something like
that.
       “Before Halloween, the Ministry had a fight against the Dark Lord in
Diagon Alley. What they didn’t say was how they had detected him there. It
wasn’t by chance, it was something else.”
       “This device?”
       Harry nodded. “Yep. I don’t know exactly what it is, or what it looks
like but it works almost like the charm on our wands.”
       “So they detect magic?”
       “Not quite, they detect magical signatures.”
       “Oh…” Luna said then her eyes went wide as she understood. “Oh..!”
       “Exactly. And do you really think the wizards understand?”
       “Not likely,” Luna agreed easily as they came to the corridor outside
the Ravenclaw Common Room.
       “Then perhaps they need to be told of the consequences?”
       “Perhaps,” Luna agreed. “Is now a good time?”
       “Now is good enough,” Harry agreed. “I’m not sure when the Ministry is
going to announce it, or even if they are going to bother. If they do announce
it, it will come as some great thing to track Dark Wizards when in reality it
will keep everyone in check.”
       “It’s worse than our wands,” Luna murmured as she continued to think.
       “How so?”
       “The tracking charm on our wands only activates if we use magic outside
of school. If this tracks magical signatures, we don’t even have to do
anything, just be in range.”
       “Well, they’ve got thousands, maybe a million of the devices,” Harry
gave out the extra little bit of information.
       “I’ll make sure it’s published,” Luna said, stepping through the
doorway.
       “I know you will,” Harry replied with a soft smile to wish her a good
night.
       After the Ravenclaw Common Room door closed, Harry turned away and began
walking back to the Gryffindor Common Room. Hogwarts was quiet at night, almost
peaceful though there was a sense of a watching presence, it wasn’t overt or
intrusive. It was just the castle itself, making sure that its inhabitants were
fine and Harry smiled, letting his magic reach out towards the stones beneath
his feet to caress the old castle.  The pictures spied, the castle just checked
and it was a difference Harry appreciated.
       As he began walking back the Shadows flickered around him. He would not
be ambushed again like Draco had, ever. :Master, where did you find out about
those devices?: They asked softly.
       Harry frowned as he cast his mind back, searching for the memory. He
usually knew how he found out about things easily. Someone told him. It was
simple. Yet as he searched through his mind, he could not find a conversation
where someone told him. The Aurors had mentioned something that they had been
working on with the Goblins, even the papers had said that but no one had
specifically told him what that something was. Yet in his head he could see it,
all glowing and rune etched and rather pretty, the device that had been
developed to track magical signatures.
       He paused, sinking deeper into his mind as he tried to remember. The
knowledge was there, it was so clear. It had been there since he read that
article about them. He just knew what they were and what they did but he
couldn’t recall how or where he had been told about them.
       Even for a wizard that wasn’t possible.
       He fought back a shiver. :How?:
       :Oh come on Master, it’s not that difficult.:
       Their playful tone calmed him down and he began thinking about it again.
If no one had told him, not even the Aurors, though they had mentioned
something, and the papers had only confirmed that the Goblins and Ministry were
working on something, then how had he known? The Shadows hadn’t told him
either. Who else… What else?
       He closed his eyes.
       He hadn’t been in contact with anyone else and this wasn’t something
Dumbledore would have told him about.
       :Haven’t you?:
       “What?” Harry whispered.
       :Been in contact with people? What about Hogsmead?:
       “No one in Hogsmead even mentioned anything like that.” Harry had
already gone over his memories of the day. They were disgustingly normal. Even
his talk with the Werewolves that evening had been normal. There was only… :But
I can’t have… I was only there for…: Harry’s eyes flew open as he realised the
only possible place he could have gotten the information. And with the
knowledge came the memory of his need. That particular aspect of his brief
encounter with Voldemort’s mind had been suppressed and as soon as it
manifested, he did it again. He could not indulge those feelings, not now, not
with Fawkes actually checking in a bit more often. Something had happened… But
Harry didn’t know what and he didn’t care. All he knew was that it made things
difficult for him.
       Harry groaned, and began walking down the corridors again. He felt
better now that he knew how he had found out the information, though he could
feel his desire bubbling within him, deep within where the Phoenix couldn’t
feel it. He would pay for that later, but for now it was necessary.
       :Luna will report them. I don’t know what the reaction will be.:
       :From some, it will be large, others won’t care. They won’t see the
danger and some will never see the danger, they’ll accept it as their price to
be safe, never realising that it means they can’t be free. But for some, safety
is preferable to freedom.:
       Harry nodded. He had learned many years ago, that you could never assume
that what you desired was what others desired. “Freedom,” he murmured, his
voice thick with longing. Oh he wanted it, and he was going to get it.
       One way or another.
***** There Will Be Consequences *****
Chapter Notes
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See the end of the chapter for more notes
Weapon
Chapter 38 There Will Be Consequences
The Dark Lord tapped long white fingers against the arm of his throne as he
thought. The Prophet was boastful about Harry and some wench being together and
the Shadows had explained the circumstances to him. He understood. He more than
understood the situation his beloved found himself in… but he did not like it.
The bimbo was too close. She knew too much. He recognised her. How could he not
recognise the red-haired witch he had entrusted with his blood? But while she
was controlled then by her own desire, now he did not know. And that was
worrying. More worrying was the fact that other witches might think they could
touch Harry. The boy had not proclaimed this love for the harlot. Voldemort
treasured the fact that Harry would not proclaim any tramp to be his beloved,
but that fact left the green eyed wizard open to further pursuit by others. And
with the play for the Order, that the floozy was meant to be the love of his
mate's life the lack of proclamation could become problematic. It was difficult
to know.
With a determined shake Voldemort brought his wandering thoughts back to the
present. What did it matter? He snarled almost on reflex. It mattered. Harry
was his and no one should dare to even think about touching him. The mechanics
of the situation were not his problem, the situation was! But unlike the Order,
or the Ministry he was a Dark Lord. He did not need to justify his actions and
he could be far more elemental when dealing with these little… issues. The
reasons he cared about. Just like directing chess pieces the reasons for the
various movements were important but the action itself… This was definitely a
case where he wanted to do something so he would. And the world should
definitely hear this message.
"Bellatrix!" Voldemort called for the witch and was not surprised when she
appeared quickly, stepping out from behind one of the pillars. It was almost
scary her … devotion. But he could use it.
"My Lord!"
"I have a task for you."
===
Bellatrix laughed softly to herself as she crept through the thin dawn light.
Just when she had been beginning to doubt her Lord, just when she wasn't sure,
he had gone and given her an order of such absolute purity that it sent her
shivering. The tone of his voice, the fire raging in his eyes and the sly smile
creasing his lips… The witch quivered. In moments like that, standing under his
gaze, she could never doubt.
But she did doubt. She could delude everyone else but she could not delude
herself. It had been better in the past few weeks since Halloween but it had
not been the same as the past. She didn't think it was her, or at least not
entirely her but she couldn't actually put her finger on one thing that was
causing her discomfort. The new ally was a part of it but not the entire thing
and having watched them for a little while, Bellatrix was reluctant to admit
that they did seem useful. She needed to talk to her Lord… truly talk to her
Lord in a way she hadn't since… since before she became a Death Eater.
Back then he had been charming and their conversations stimulating. She had
been attracted to his frank openness about his plans. It had been wonderful to
talk to someone who, unlike the rest of her family, wasn't afraid to show his
affiliation towards the Dark. Even once she became a Death Eater it had been
good, he had been good. They hadn't had as many long conversations as before
but the times they had spoken were memorable, even the way he gave orders.
Bellatrix licked her lips as she remembered. It had been a glorious time… the
fear, the blood, the sheer power they had all wielded just by their presence.
And then it had ended! All at the hands of a babe.
And now that babe was untouchable. Bellatrix understood, even agreed that Harry
Potter was her Lord's kill but why did that mean that they couldn't Crucio him
a little before delivering him? It wouldn't permanently damage him. But her
Lord was adamant, and the darkness and the serpents behind and around him when
he proclaimed that had been strong in their support, the snakes yellow eyes
still haunted her with the flash of power they had shown.
She had recognised the look from old and knew what it meant. No matter how much
she disagreed, disobedience would lead to death and so she silently raged
against the order. There had been orders in the past she hadn't understood,
hadn't agreed with but she had eventually seen their wisdom. This one… this one
remained unfathomable. Why shouldn't they be able to hurt Harry Potter any way
they could?
Which is why she was happy about this order. This order would hurt the brat.
Not directly but Bellatrix well understood the insidious nature of emotional
pain, of the way it crept under your defences, of the way it lingered and
lurked, growing stronger so that when it struck, it would leave its victim a
quivering mass of nothing. Unless you saw the collapse though, it somehow
lacked the release she got from causing physical pain but she would take what
she could get in this case. And besides, with her Lord claiming the brat's
life, she would no doubt see his demise. It would be sweet, knowing that as he
whimpered, as he begged, she had been a part of breaking him.
Bellatrix rose, twirling her wand as she looked down at the house. It was
secluded and ramshackle and she could smell the magic in it. It was cloying.
The usual wizarding spells for soundness, strength and against vermin were
there but there was other magic thick on the house. Family magic, children… It
stunk. Other places had the feel of family magic, but they had a certain
elegance and refinement. The Black Manor as she was growing up was always
tastefully understated but this… This was obscene and why anyone would want to
call this hodge podge of stuck together rooms home she did not know. But
someone did, many someone's did from the feel of the magic, all layered with
their signatures and suddenly Bellatrix understood why this place was called
'The Burrow' on the Floo network. The family was poor, yet they breed like
rabbits. It suited them that their house should be called an animal's hole.
With a determined flick of her wand she began drawing light wards before she
brushed fire towards the top of the house interspersing the spells with little
puffs of wind to fuel the flames. The point this time was simple. Fear could be
created through death but fear could also be created through destruction. By
proving that the Dark Forces could attack where they wanted and when they
wanted and that no one, not even long serving members of the Order of the
Phoenix were safe. Her mission today allowed for the possibility of escape,
hence the light wards she had drawn, her desire allowed for the certainty of
death. The one occupant she could feel would not get away.
===
Arthur had risen before dawn and had disappeared to the office. While usually
Molly could have slept through that, she was used to rising early. This wasn't
always a good thing. The house felt especially empty in the mornings when it
was just her. Bill was off somewhere with Gringotts though he had indicated the
possibility of a visit later in the year. Charlie was practically chained to a
dragon in Romania. Percy was like Arthur in that he practically lived at the
office, but he'd also rented a small apartment and so she only saw him on
weekends. At the moment he was overseas on some Ministry business and Molly
felt both proud and scared for her boy. The twins, those of the never quiet
mornings had somehow found the money to start a business. Despite her nagging,
they had never told her where or how they had gotten enough to do that. They
simply assured her that the money had not been ill-gotten. For all their other
faults, the twins were not liars and so while she remained suspicious, she
accepted that. And Ron and Ginny were both at Hogwarts which was arguably the
safest place to be with both Dumbledore and Harry there to defend it against
attacks from the Dark Lord.
Molly shook her head to clear away such maudlin thoughts as she slowly brewed a
pot of tea and sat down at the table to enjoy it. She should enjoy the mornings
where she no longer had to rush around preparing eight breakfasts before even
thinking about her own. But she missed it; the hustle and bustle and the
laughter and noise. It had become a part of her. And she hoped it had become a
part of her children on some level. It would stand them in good stead for the
future.
As she sipped her tea, trying to enjoy the relative quiet, she noticed that the
house was hot. Hotter than it should have been for a winter morning. And there
was a soft crackling noise coming from one of the floors above her. She'd
ignored it because of the ghoul but as Molly rose, her face turned upwards as
if she could see through the floors she felt something cold flick through her
body. The noise wasn't the ghoul. Almost instinctively she flicked a cold charm
above her not even thinking of the irony of casting that when it was snowy
outside.
If anything the heat became more intense and as Molly mounted the stairs she
was driven back by a wave of superhot air. Fire! The thought screamed its way
through her mind and she began casting cold charms in earnest, not really
caring where she was aiming but generally above her. The soft crackling was
becoming louder and she could feel the house groan under the pressure of the
heat.
It wasn't until she tried the version of the flame freezing charm that was for
inanimate objects and she felt the magic ricocheted back to her that Molly
realised the fire must be deliberately lit. Molly Weasley was known as a
sentimental woman, but she was also sensible. Seven children had given her a
practical streak a mile wide and the instant she knew the fire was deliberately
lit, she gave up the fight for the house. Deliberately lit meant an attack, and
an attack meant more power than she alone would be able to stop. Instead she
bustled down the stairs intent on floo-ing to the Hogwarts and the Order. If
they got here quickly enough, they might be able to catch the Death Eaters in
the act.
Calmly she re-entered the kitchen, casting a last lingering look around. They
would rebuild but you had to be alive to rebuilt. She reached out to the floo
powder jar and threw a generous handful into the small flames of the kitchen
hearth. She waited for the flames to bulge and turn green but nothing happened.
Another handful went into the flames and Molly fought back a rising sense of
fear. Again nothing happened and the powder dusted over the wood, giving it a
sparkling coating that threatened to extinguish the small fire there.
Molly shook her head to focus and thought about Hogsmead, focusing on
appariting. She didn't like apparition but she was perfectly capable of doing
it. Focused as she was, she felt her magic surge through her body before
reaching out, the way it did for apparition, seeking a lock on the destination.
That sort of thing was usually close to instantaneous so you never really
noticed it with the wild spinning sensation that usually accompanied
apparition, but as her magic found nothing to lock on to, Molly became aware of
how strong the line was. It barely extended anywhere and instinctively she sent
her mind along the path of her magic. Anti-apparition wards loomed before her
and she hissed.
Outside Bellatrix chuckled, feeling the aborted impact of floo and apparition
against her wards. She flicked more fire towards the hole, this time towards
the door. In as much as she would have liked to see the panic and pain in their
eyes, allowing them access to the door would be too close to the wards. They
might escape, and her Lord had said she may kill, and she intended to do just
that. It had been too long since she had felt the searing joy that came with
that expression of power. The ultimate expression of power and she intended to
savour it.
Anti-apparition wards and the floo had been disabled somehow. Molly assessed
the information. That was a standard Death Eater attack routine. She might be
stronger than the caster, but there was likely to be a few. Death Eater's
seldom attacked alone so while she might have been able to over whelm the
wards, the chances were unlikely. Which meant she needed help. As the kitchen
grew hotter and she listened to the noise upstairs, Molly's thoughts were
clear. Gently she raised her wand and summoned her patronus. Death Eater's
seldom raised the wards that affected patroni from running around but she
already knew that even moving at the fastest pace, her patronus could not reach
help in time. Still, she had to try.
Once the silvery form was away she looked with sharp brown eyes around the
kitchen. The flame freezing charm may have been blocked but that block could
not stop her casting it on herself. That was internal magic, much like the
animagus transformation which could not be blocked easily and Molly doubted
that the Death Eaters would have bothered to raise that type of ward. They were
invasive and difficult and frankly, unless you knew your opponent was an
animagus or especially skilled at wandless magic, you didn't bother with them.
So that was the first order of business and she raised her wand with a purpose.
Next she cast her eyes to the ceiling. Above she could hear the crackling of
the fire and she could feel the heat. She could also dully hear the thump of
items as they crashed into the floors above. The flames and the heat would not
bother her. No, the trap here was suffocation or blunt force injury as the
house collapsed around her. She had her magic and already Molly was casting
what charms she could to re-enforce the structures. She thought briefly about
trying to make it to the door, and into the garden outside, but in her
estimation the likelihood of death increased. Outside, she'd make a very easy
target for an Avada Kedravra spell. Inside, the heat and smoke and debris would
be difficult, but at least she had a chance.
With a determined flick of her wand, Molly extinguished the small kitchen fire
and cleared out the hearth. Then she settled herself into it, pulling herself
into the opening as much as she could and casting every protection charm she
could think of, including the bubblehead charm as the room began to fill with
smoke. This wouldn't guarantee survival but it was her best chance.
===
Remus rested his chin on his hands as he looked over the room. Chained in the
corner, like a dog, was one Wilbur O'Haresh. The slightly portly wizard was
staring up over Remus' shoulder which was not too bad on sensing direction
given that a conjunctivitis curse had been applied to his eyes and they were
milky white. The wizard's glare was fearful, though it still held defiance.
Lupin's gaze was hard and he was looking at more than the wizard.
The discussion with Harry… No, the Shadow Lord, the Werewolf Pack Leader
corrected his thoughts. He couldn't get into the habit of thinking of Harry his
ally. The Shadow Lord was the Werewolves Ally, and that was all the answer
anyone would get, and only after the pain of torture. The discussion at The
Hogs Head had gone well. The deal had been done in the Forbidden Forest when
the Shadow Lord had given them his Blood in the Oath but the discussion at The
Hogs Head had been fruitful. It had worked out how they could make many of the
agreements actually work in reality.
Remus felt it had been an educational meeting for all concerned. Razorclaw had
seen how much the Shadows had already thought about the mechanics of their
agreement, when the Lord offered some very practical solutions to some of the
obvious problems. And the Shadow Lord had seen that the Werewolves were willing
to work beyond the bounds of the agreement, where it was in their best
interests.
Instruction had gone out to the Packs that they were to maintain neutrality.
And that was all. No further details were given. They were maintaining
neutrality because it was the new Pack Leader's desire though there had been
hints in the instructions that anyone needing help, just had to step forward.
In that manner, Remus promised to be one of the more benevolent Pack Leaders.
Even if the alms he gave were not his own.
So, they had worked out how to distribute Wolfsbane and that operation would no
doubt grow over time. They'd worked out how to put the charm on the Werewolves,
though that would not be for a few months and would be done in a batch. It had
been worked out how to pass money to various Pack Leaders if it was required
and the Shadow Lord had told them of the Laws he intended to put in place, and
the amount of time he required to do that.
It had been a very profitable evening and it had settled the lingering doubts
of Talon and Razorclaw nicely. There would be future meetings, just not soon.
In all likelihood, not every Pack Leader would need to be there in future
either. That should make gathering less dangerous. Remus could not forget the
Vampires. They may not show it, but they were no doubt looking for a way of
striking at the Werewolves. Nor did Remus forget about his personal safety. He
had told an Elder Vampire that he was the Pack Leader of the Isles. He had told
the Ministry that, though they may not have realised the implications of that.
He would be vigilant.
The ending of the meeting is what was concerning Remus now. There had been one
further section of the agreement that no one had brought up. Lupin was no
expert at law but he rather wryly figured that if the Shadow Lord had decided
to 'forget' that part of the agreement then the Werewolves had no claim upon
it. Before the Oath it had only been mentioned as a selling point, but it had
not been included in the discussion in the Forbidden Forest, so it could be
legitimately claimed that it was not part of their final agreement.
Until the Shadow Lord voluntarily included it.
Which is what lead Remus to be here, staring at the werewolves' prisoner,
Wilbur O'Haresh. It had almost been comical, the way the five gathered pack
leaders had been at a loss when the Shadow Lord had presented the man. None of
them knew who he was, but once his name was announced, they knew. Razorclaw had
snarled, almost wanting to bite the man even in his human form but Remus had
cautioned against it. He didn't quite know what he wanted to do with the
reporter.
The man had reported on Gideon, one of the Werewolves whose loyalty was firmly
with the Dark Lord… But Gideon had been freed, by the Shadow Lord… and that was
not something the Ministry was being very forthcoming about. Given that Gideon
had been freed, it didn't seem right to bite O'Haresh… but that left the
question of what to do with him. They could not free him.
Remus sighed. Razerclaw and Talon had been pleased with the gift from the
Shadow Lord and if Lupin was honest with himself, he could see Harry's logic.
But he was the one who had to deal with the mess now.
"So why did you do it?" Remus asked eventually and the instant he spoke he
realised the question was not correct. It should not be why, it should be how.
Who had tipped off O'Haresh that Gideon was a werewolf in the first place, let
alone one loyal to the Lord Voldemort. O'Haresh was the economics reporter… He
just didn't… shouldn't have that type of knowledge and even Elliot couldn't
tell Remus how the man had exposed Gideon.
"Do what?"
"Gideon Prayleor," Lupin said, knowing the name should be explanation enough.
"So, you some sort of do gooder who believes in equality for animals?" The
reporter snapped.
Even though he couldn't see it, Remus smiled gently. "Not at all," he replied
and his smile tightened into a grin when the wizard before him relaxed
slightly. "I'm the Pack Leader of all the Werewolves on the Isles."
The silence was almost palatable.
"Oh come now," Remus said, sitting back in his chair comfortably as he imagined
how Sirius would handle this. The man could be positively cruel when he put his
mind to it and it was that aspect Lupin needed now. "You don't think werewolves
existed without some sort of organisation? If we did, then you wizards would
have wiped us out long ago."
"…" Even with his sharp hearing Remus couldn't make out the words.
"What was that? It's impolite to mumble and you are a journalist! You are meant
to speak clearly!"
"Animal!"
"Oh, that's not very nice," Remus chided. He wasn't usually the vindictive
type, the one who rubbed in their victory. That was more Sirius' thing but he
had spent a long time watching the canine animagus so he was more than capable
of acting the part. "Really, all I want to know from you is one thing. I want
to know who tipped you off about Gideon?"
"I don't know!"
"Protecting them won't help you."
"I'm not protecting them."
"Then tell me."
"I can't tell you because I don't know who it was," Wilbur said with
exaggerated patience and Remus rather imagined the man would be rolling his
eyes if he could.
"So you published on a tip from an unknown source, which was potentially a
lie?" Remus asked the question, making sure his voice was laced with
skepticism.
"The tip came with proof."
"Oh?"
"It included his Death Eater mask."
"I always knew The Prophet was a moronic paper," Remus muttered, not bothering
to temper his words. "A Death Eater's mask is so much proof," he added.
"So what are you going to do?"
Lupin considered the question. That really was the central consideration for
the moment. What washe going to do with a prisoner? "Half the packs want to
bite you and then dump you somewhere, without the support of the rest of us.
That would be… just punishment, I must admit. But it is not the way we are and
would only re-enforce everything bad about us. I suppose I could just apply a
memory charm and let you go, but then that would disappoint the one who fetched
you for us."
"Who was that?"
"An ally," Remus said easily. "You are a gift, Wilbur, from our ally to the
Werewolves as a whole. And it would not do for me to reject that gift, not when
I'm sure they went to a lot of trouble to secure you." Actually Lupin wasn't
sure about that last bit. Harry didn't say but it didn't matter.
There was silence for a few moments as Remus thought before he sighed. "Here's
what I'm going to do Wilbur. You are going to be bitten. I think that's a
fitting punishment. I might even let Gideon do it but you won't remember who
did it. Oh, don't worry about the reaction of your co-workers or the Ministry.
They aren't going to know anything. To them, you've already disappeared."
"I won't remain hidden," Wilbur spat with conviction. "I'll report you."
"No, you won't," Lupin replied. "You know exactly how werewolves are treated.
Oh… I agree there will be a bit of outrage that you were bitten, but then the
outrage will fade and you will be outcast. I'm sure you know what happens to
Werewolves… but you haven't really experienced it. If you go back, you will
first hand and I guarantee it will be an experience you will not enjoy. You
will be much better off accepting the arrangements I make."
That seemed to silence the reporter for a moment, then he tried a new method.
"My friends will look for me."
"Ha!" the Pack Leader of the Isles laughed. "What friends? You know as well as
I do that you only have acquaintances that care very little for you. Now you
can of course go back to the Ministry if you want. I'm not going to be in such
a position that I have you watched very day but I would advise you to accept
the Pack I ask to help you."
"So I'm just meant to put up with whatever you decide."
"I am the Werewolves' Leader, and by that stage you will be a werewolf, and
while we aren't like vampires, in that you are not obliged to obey me, I would
advise that you do not go against the arrangements I make. The Ministry, The
Prophet, and wizards in general aren't accepting of werewolves."
"You wouldn't dare?"
Remus grinned. Oh the number of responses Sirius' could have given to that… He
was a bit more limited but he could answer well enough. "Who's going to stop
me?" That said Lupin rose and took the few steps towards their prisoner. He
reached out one hand and gently patted the blind Wilbur by way of parting
before he walked out the door. Remus still wasn't truly happy with having a
prisoner, but if they had one, then he would fulfill his duties as the Pack
Leader, both the good and the bad duties.
===
In the Slytherin dressing rooms, Draco sat alone as he pulled on his boots. The
team didn't like him, but he was still the best Seeker in Slytherin and no
matter what they thought, they were competitive enough that they wanted to win.
That meant going with the best, so he was still on the team. And they mostly
opted to ignore him when they weren't on the field. It was a slap in the face
but with everything else that had happened, it suited him fine.
In the days since he broke that Gryffindork's charm, Draco had been trying to
contact the vampires to tell them that he knew what they knew. But they were
conspicuous with their absence where before Halloween they had been conspicuous
with their presence. The difference was frustrating. He consoled himself with
the thought that once they were working together, things should move much more
quickly. And they would be at this game. The chance to openly watch the
supposed Light Golden Boy would be too much for them to pass up. Especially
with the knowledge they shared.
There had to be a way to trip the Gryffindork up. But in the two weeks since
he'd freed his memories and could act on the truth, while Draco had watched
Potter closely, the boy had not put so much as a hair out of place. It made no
sense. No one was that good an actor! Were they?
Yet Potter had to be. Draco had seen the evidence of that himself. He paused,
running one hand through his hair before he picked up a green Slytherin cap. It
would not do for him not to see the Snitch because of his wayward hair. Once
dressed Draco sat for a few moments, his grey eyes half closed as he considered
what he needed to do. So… Potter was that good an actor. The Phoenix and
therefore the Order and Ministry were completely fooled. They had no idea of
the snake they had taken to their bosom. If the Malfoy's were still loyal to
the Serpent Lord, Draco would have appreciated the sheer Slytherinness of the
plan… Probably… Maybe… Argh! Since it involved Potter he didn't know. But right
at the moment while he didn't like the thought of helping the Light he had no
choice. If the Serpent Lord won, then there would be nothing left to fight
which meant he had to somehow expose their precious saviour.
How?
That was the question.
With a huff Draco stood. He most likely couldn't do it today. Quidditch was
quidditch and the war didn't enter into it. But he could use the game to test
the Gryffindork. Ever since they'd duelled in second year he had wanted to
truly know who was the strongest, who was the best. Thanks to his Mother he had
enough skill and power to fight without alerting those watching the game.
Potter was hailed as the Golden Boy, he should have at least that much skill
and Draco would test it today. Once he knew the Gryffindor's power and more
importantly his weaknesses, then he could prepare a proper plan to expose the
traitor.
And that would be a very happy day!
===
"I want a good clean game!" Madam Hooch shouted up at the two teams that
hovered in the air, the two captains were hovering lower on either side of her.
They had shaken hands earlier and Rolanda had not missed the way they had
tested each other. Boy's would be boys no matter what happened, yet there was
somewhat of a grim cast to her smile when she released the bludgers and snitch
a moment before she threw the quaffle into the air.
There was the usual mad scramble before one of the chasers flew off with the
quaffle and the others were left to follow. While Harry usually liked to be in
the thick of it, for this game he had risen high above the scrum and was
flitting back and forth as he searched for the snitch. Syltherin's Seeker had
done the same and Madam Hooch turned her attention away from them. The
shenanigans of the main team gave her more than enough to focus on.
She really should have taken the time to recall the history between the two
Seekers. Publically, there was nothing but the entire Hogwart's community knew
the animosity between them.
===
Harry flew above the game. In the past he'd liked to speed through the play to
help out the Gryffindor chasers but his new team weren't ready for that. Oh,
they were getting there. The practices he'd put them though, in any weather was
ensuring that but while they played well there was still a rawness in the way
they flew that was detectable to the experienced eye. They needed more practice
and he would make sure they got that practice.
Draco was flying with him but he didn't think that was unusual. The Slytherin
had been following him for the last two weeks and there was really only one
reason that would be. The boy had broken his charm but then he'd found out
exactly how trapped he was in the existing situations. Draco was easy to
predict. He wanted power. And he wanted to be the focus on that power. Harry
almost grinned. Too easy. His linearity was almost refreshing in the face of
the Order, the vampires and everything else that was going on.
Still Harry kept an eye on him. The boy was likely to do something stupid and
Harry didn't seen some fool stunt to leave him having to make up yet more
excuses.
It was not surprising then when Harry felt a charm in the air. Deftly he
dodged, making the flick of his broom look random. He didn't even look up
towards the blond. So this was the game Draco wanted to play? Wordless magic
with all visual effects suppressed? It showed skill beyond what he thought
Draco was capable of but it was hardly original and two could play that game.
The blond had his wand strapped to his arm. Harry had his, but it was tucked
into the small of his back. He didn't really need it and used it now mostly for
fiddly, delicate work but it was close enough for him to use.
Most wizards and witches worked out sometimeduring their life that precise wand
movements were not necessary. Especially on charms they used every day. Magic
really relied on will, intent and focus. So long as those three elements were
present, it would work. That's why wandless magic as children worked. It was
usually unconsciously directed, but that didn't make the will or the focus any
the less. Take one of his examples of wandless magic, when he'd let the snake
out at the zoo. His intent had not been precisely to let the snake out, but the
will and the focus were still there and there was enough of an intent that his
magic had reacted. When you focused that and had the strength, greater things
were possible. Draco had no doubt picked that up over the summer.
Still looking around for the Snitch, Harry smiled. What else had Draco learned
over the summer? And was it him who had killed Xir? The assumption that both
the Dark Lord and Harry had made was that it had been Narcissa… but what if it
was Draco? Harry kept the frown from his face as he internalised the debate,
pushing it down into his subconscious. Did it matter? Xir was dead.
Harry kept dodging as Draco cast further spells. He cast one eye up to the
Slytherin with a small smile. It let Draco know that Harry knew what he was
doing. The angry glint that flashed through grey eyes made it all worth it and
Harry resisted the urge to laugh.
He could play this game, but he had to be careful with the Phoenix watching. It
wouldn't be that unusual for him to take the challenge offered by Draco and
while he had all the Dark Lord's ability at spell casting, Fawkes would get
suspicious if he was too causal in using that knowledge. So dodging was the
best alternative. Besides, it would play into the idea that he did not take
Draco seriously and that they were just boys playing. That was a stupid notion.
They had ceased being boys years back and it was time the Phoenix and
Headmaster realised that.
:Don't do anything stupid,: the Shadow's warned suddenly and Harry took that to
mean that the Phoenix was paying attention.
:Never,: he replied, keeping his voice light and happy. Draco cast another few
charms which Harry adroitly dodged before he sent his broom into a dive. The
blond boy cried out and followed. Regardless of what else was happening, they
were playing a Quidditch game and catching the snitch was their job. Draco
couldn't see the snitch but the way Harry was moving, he assumed the other boy
did.
Down Harry plunged, gaining speed each second and he resisted the urge to laugh
in sheer joy. He could fly himself, but there was something about riding his
broom. It was the transient feel of freedom that he loved and he embraced it
with all his heart. He felt the Phoenix respond. The feeling of joy was shared
by the Phoenix and for a moment their hearts connected. Harry felt … Harry felt
the same way as he had in the Chamber of Secrets, peaceful and courageous all
at once. It was beautifully calming and inwardly he smiled at Fawkes. There was
no use in denying what he felt.
He'd learned to live in the present. He'd spent too much of his childhood
living in the future, imagining a time when he could get away. Even in his
early years at Hogwarts, he'd spent too much time either thinking back to the
past or again imagining what could be. It had taken a great deal of pain for
him to learn to live in the present and to enjoy the simple things that life
offered. Near freefall on a broom was just one of the things he could enjoy
now.
Draco followed close behind him, but Harry was the better flier. Still he
slowed down a little, allowing Draco to follow him closely. He needed the blond
Slytherin to be right on his tail for this to work. Harry grinned when they
flashed through the play, scattering both team's chasers in their wild descent.
When Harry automatically jinxed out the way of another hex he realised that
Draco had put the game second to fighting him. It brought a chill little smile
to his face even as he plummeted to the ground and the little jinx brought
Draco enough time to catch up. His pale grey eyes were alight with fierce joy
and Harry suppressed a chuckle as he realised the blond thought that flying
parallel meant that he couldn't miss on his spells.
Time to teach a Slytherin what it meant to be a seeker.
Without warning Harry jerked his broom up in an almost perfect ninety degree
turn. Draco wasn't so lucky and there wasn't even time for a startled cry
before he ploughed into the ground. The spray of dirt was impressive. Hogwarts
deliberately kept the Quidditch pitch turf rather soft, even in winter when the
ground should freeze, simply for these occasions.
"By Merlin! That was a perfect Wronski Feint by Gryffindor's Seeker, Harry
Potter!" Harry dimly heard the commentary over the screams of excitement from
the gathered students as he pulled his broom up, shouting his own instructions
to his team as he resumed his place above the play. There was a smug little
grin on his face as he kept one eye on Draco even while he continued to search
for the snitch. "You won't see that executed so well very often, even in
professional Quidditch!" The commentator was gushing, completely oblivious to
the fact that it was possible that Draco had injured himself quite severely.
The pale blond Slytherin wasn't injured but he'd definitely knocked himself
around. Harry watched as he slowly rose from the middle of the rather
impressive spray of dirt. Draco was covered in it and his green and silver
Slytherin uniform looked blotchy. There were places that were completely
covered in mud and there were others where his uniform looked like some spotted
birds egg. There was a bit of pain in his movements, but to Harry's expert eye
he could see no broken bones. After brushing himself off which consisted of
mostly smearing the mud further over his robes, Draco reached again for his
broom and Harry couldn't hold back a chuckle as the other boy realised it was
stuck. The handle was wedged into the ground making the entire thing stand up
and it was quivering as the magic reacted.
Merlin that was funny! And Harry wasn't the only one to think so if the
gathering swell of tittering coming from the audience was anything to go by.
Winter games of Quidditch usually attracted only the most hard core of the
school's Quidditch fans, but a game between Gryffindor and Slytherin was always
an event so was always well attended, so most of the school was watching as
Draco ineffectually pulled at his broom, trying to work it free. Those who
weren't watching, would know by tea-time. No doubt the grey eyed boy could hear
the laughter as well and Harry could only imagine the roiling angry thoughts
that the Slytherin was probably entertaining.
Good! It would make the prat amenable to his suggestion. Below, the play of the
chasers and beaters continued and while Harry couldn't make out the words, he
could tell that the Slytherin team was more than a little frustrated. Not with
him, which was something of a miracle, but with their Seeker and Harry shivered
involuntarily. The black haired boy knew how to react to bullying, he'd had
much more practice than anyone should, though he rather imagined the next few
weeks were going to be very difficult for Draco. Somehow, he didn't feel much
sympathy.
Eventually, Draco worked his broom free. After all the ground was relatively
soft and while there was still a bit of pain in the way he moved, the blond
flew again, coming to a halt near where Harry still hovered.
"Have fun, Malfoy?" Harry asked with a sly smirk.
"Piss off Potter."
Oh, Draco really was worked up and Harry allowed a tiny cackle to slip past his
lips. The snarl that greeted it was a bit of a surprise. Imagine that, Draco
Malfoy, the perfect scion of the House of Malfoy, snarling in such an unrefined
way. Why, the noise was almost animalistic!
"Look, Malfoy," Harry said, his voice serious and both green eyes speared into
grey. "We're playing Quidditch here, not silent duels. If you want to duel me,
that's fine, I'll duel you, ifyou actually show up this time."
Grey eyes widened in surprise and Harry took that as a signal to continue.
"Midnight, here," he gestured towards the Quidditch Pitch. "Plenty of space for
us to really cut loose with charms so that you can't complain it wasn't fair
territory. No seconds, no thirds, no one else. Just you and me Draco," he
drawled the boy's name, "if you have the guts." Harry couldn't resist adding
that last little jab.
There was a few moments of silence before the blond snarled again and this time
Harry recognised words. "You're on." Draco barely got the words out before he
turned away, moving forcefully to the other side of the Quidditch pitch to
start his duties as Seeker.
Harry giggled to himself. Oh, this could be fun! And the best thing was, he
could pass it off as youthful exuberance! Though he did intend to leave Draco
bleeding on the ground it could be enlightening to see the extent of the boy's
power. Heh, Xeoaph should thank him for this actually since no doubt the blond
had been studiously avoiding the vampire to avoid the transference of what was
no doubt a rather hefty debt left by his father. Broken and bleeding was not
dead, and the debt could still be paid.
He turned his attention back to the game, watching as the chasers and beaters
worked together. The scores were about even which Harry was thankful for. The
Gryffindor team had seemed to take heart at his antics and were playing harder
and faster than he'd seen them play before. Even Ron at the goal somehow looked
more alert. In contrast the Slytherin team almost looked dull. Granted, the
green and silver of their uniforms blended with the landscape more, the green
merging with the grass and trees around and the silver with the overcast sky
but they could at least be a bit more perky about playing. It's not like they
liked Draco any more than he did, especially if Millicent's reports were to be
believed.
Oh well… Harry didn't have to understand them to beat them. Nor did his team.
They weren't quite up to the rate of scoring he'd like, though that could be
because the Slytherin keeper actually seemed to be doing a decent job but they
were working on it. Besides, he wouldn't say no to a three to two scoring
ratio, especially when goals were rather hard to come by as evidenced by the
score. After an hour of play 70:50, Gryffindor favour was not a great score-
line. Maybe he should haze the Slytherin Keeper?
Black tresses shook denial after a moment. There was no real point and the game
was going okay, especially when Ginny did an odd little broom flick and managed
to pitch the quaffle under the Slytherin Keepers arm, straight through the
centre goal. The scoring ding of magic sounded out on the pitch and Harry
grinned. He did so love that sound. Green eyes met Ginny's blue, just for a
moment in celebration and in that gaze he sent his congratulations to her, not
missing the way Ginny blushed lightly at his attention. It was sweet and cute
and everything an adolescent teen should be. In the depths of his mind, it made
him feel sick. He didn't need cute and sweet, he wanted mature and
understanding. He had mature and understanding and Ginny was a pale second.
The phoenix felt none of that. All Fawkes saw was a tender moment between young
lovers and even though Harry would gag over this later, he intended to enhance
that perception, going all out now that his relationship with the young Weasley
girl was in the open. Or however one of the papers had said so quaintly.
Harry snorted to himself, focusing on trying to find the snitch, though he did
spare a moment to examine the team. The Gryffindor beaters were keeping the
bludgers away from the team admirably. Ron was doing a pretty good job as
Keeper, though he had room to improve. The Chasers were working together
reasonably well but they weren't quite a team. There was still some individual
glory seeking there that they would have to lose in order to really be
competitive. After another hour of flitting back and forth, Harry had had
enough of the game. It had only been two and a half hours but it was long
enough. He could almost sense time passing and the things he needed to be
organising. It was time to end this and while he could have the Shadow's find
the Snitch, that was hardly sporting. Instead he sharpened his senses, sweeping
his eyes over the field, methodically quartering it as he searched for the
snitch.
Draco was doing something similar. Every Seeker had their own methods for
tracking down the snitch but no matter what method you used, it was partially a
matter of luck. When the end of the game came, it was rather anticlimactic.
Harry spotted the snitch and swooped in to retrieve it. The small golden ball
almost seemed happy to be caught because it didn't dodge or weave to avoid
capture as much as it usually did. As the chime to signal the capture of the
Snitch sounded, Harry looked back up at Draco, only to find that the Slytherin
had been focusing his attention, almost completely, on another area of the
field. The blond wasn't even aware that Harry had found the Snitch and between
the grin he gave the other boy, Harry mouthed 'Tonight' and was rewarded with
an icy glare accompanied by the merest nod of Draco's head.
His appointment confirmed, Harry grinned, holding the Snitch aloft and swooping
down to meet the jubilant cries of the rest of the team. All Quidditch
victories were celebrated but a victory against Slytherin was always
accompanied by an extra jubilant party from Gryffindor. Their traditional
rivalry demanded no less. But Harry wasn't quite ready to accept their midair
embraces but rather that pull away he showed them why he was the Seeker,
dodging through them all until his broom was side by side with Ginny. Then his
team miraculously understood and backed away a little.
With a flourish Harry presented the snitch to Ginny, allowing his green eyes to
shine and a soft smile to crease his features. The Gryffindor team cooed, a
sentiment that was taken up by the gathered students and Ginny blushed as red
as her hair, but she accepted the snitch, returning his gentle smile with her
blue eyes alight.
Fawkes fled from his mind which Harry took as a sign of everything that was
wrong with the Phoenix. This was a scene the bird should be looking upon with
an expression akin to those of the adult witches and wizards that were here.
That look of indulgent understanding, because they'd seen it all before, but
were touched by the display of innocent young love every time. That's what the
phoenix should have felt, and if the bird had of been feeling that, then Harry
would be having a much harder time steeling his heart for what he would do.
"Thank you, Harry!" Ginny finally managed to whisper and Harry allowed his
smile to turn into a rare grin.
"You're welcome," he replied, leaning over, heedless of the empty space beneath
them to place a chaste kiss on her forehead. If anything Ginny blushed harder
and he pulled back with a little chuckle. She matched her uniform now. If he'd
been in the situation, rather than it's orchestrator he'd been blushing for all
he was worth as well, but perhaps being the centre of attention for all his
wizarding life had desensitised him a bit.
"Urgh, break it up," the denouncement didn't come from Draco but the sentiment
could have and the Gryffindor team parted to see the Slytherin Captain hovering
at a short distance from them.
Harry didn't know them. They were a seventh year but it didn't matter. Most
likely the instant they graduated, the Dark Lord would be testing the boy for a
position. That was going to be an interesting time. The green-eyed Gryffindor
Captain though nodded, affably, not showing offence which was pretty much what
he thought they expected as he nudged his broom through the gathered team to
where the Slytherin Captain hovered. He stuck out his hand. Hogwart's tradition
required that the two captains shake on the result of the game. It was based on
some nonsense of sportsmanship and school harmony, though Harry privately
thought the tradition had most likely come about in a time when Slytherin were
winning and was the result of their desire to rub it in. Oh how the tables
turned.
There was the merest touch on his palm before the Slytherin Captain sent one
final glare at him and veered away, landing and quickly packing up. Which was
what the Gryffindor team should be doing. They had celebrations in the tower to
enjoy.
Harry grinned. With the Twin's gone, enough Gryffindors had stepped up to the
void left by the two Weasleys and for all celebrations there was more than an
ample supply of butterbeer and other goodies! It made celebrations in the tower
something to enjoy and he looked forward to it as he let his broom drop to land
with a light touch down.
"What was the final score anyway?" He asked when he landed. He genuinely hadn't
been paying that much attention.
"Three twenty to one thirty," came the drawling smug reply to his question from
a variety of voices. Harry couldn't tell who answered because there were too
many smirking faces around him. That was a good score line for a team that was
new. Imperceptibly Harry frowned. That meant in the second part of the game
Slytherin had gotten better while Gryffindor got worse! He'd have to work on
that, because a victory made impressive by him catching the snitch was not much
of a victory at all.
But that was tomorrow's task, along with a myriad of other things. For now, he
could and was expected to indulge in a bit of celebration.
"Miss Weasley, Mr. Weasley," the voice belonged to Professor McGonagall and
Harry wasn't the only one confused. Usually she appeared early in the
celebrations in the tower to congratulate them and then left, knowing full well
that what she didn't see, she couldn't punish for. This was highly unusual.
"Your presence is required in the Headmaster's office." There was a chill
little note in her voice that caught the gathered crowd's attention.
Harry looked at the feline animagus sharply. She looked as she usually did,
straight laced and proper. There was something going on, however she was
experienced enough to hide it. But Harry had more sources of information than
they had eyes. :What happened?:
:There was an attack.:
Strangely the Shadows seemed almost reluctant to speak.
:I gathered that,: Harry retorted as he watched Ron and Ginny separate
themselves from the gathered Gryffindors and head up to the castle in a fast
trot. Minerva had looked around but wouldn't meet his eyes, before she turned
to follow them. That only made the growing sense of worry greater.
:On the Burrow.:
Harry gasped sharply at that. :Who?: He demanded. He knew who attacked, maybe
not exactly but it didn't matter which Death Eater it was, it mattered now who
had been home.
:Molly.:
And just like that, it all came crashing down.
 
Chapter End Notes
     I'd be really happy if people supported my original work :) (Link in
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