Sunrise Over Britain :: Chatper 7

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We've run out of Alan Rickman movies. Face it Ladies, he's not exactly a Harrison Ford you know. We thought about having guest appearances from other stars, but we thought people might get confused. So without any further explanation from us. We proudly present Alan Rickman on Ice!

A spotlight appears in the center of the ice rink and a solitary figure shakily skates up to stand in the center of the spotlight.

"Ahem... The authors of this story have invited me to sing the national anthem..."

The figure paused as someone whispered something at him from beyond the light.

"Oh... alright. The authors of this miserable excuse for literature beg to remind you oh magnificent readers who have access to donuts and refuse to share, that they do not own anything relating to Harry Potter. They further ask that I remind you all that Harry is currently single and perhaps gay in canon having dropped a hot red head for the silliest of reasons..."

Alan stopped in mid-sentence and looked in consternation as a herd of Elephants started sliding towards him on the ice.

"Help!" he gurgled before being hit by a sliding pachyderm.

The spotlight swung wildly and settled on Harry holding the gates to the ice open while Hermione shot stinging hexes at the backs of the rampaging elephants.

Hermione looked up at the spotlight. "He is most certainly not gay!"

"Was that really necessary?" asked Alyx plaintively.

"No, but it was fun," replied Bob. "Besides, I got Alan Rickman to insult Harry."

"You're going to piss Harry off you know." Alyx pointed out.

"Nah, He'll survive, besides, if he wants to keep getting laid he'll leave me alone."

Harry stopped short of hexing Bob and slowly backed away.

"Behold the power of the Author. The pen is still mightier than the wand!" quipped Bob.

"I need a new husband, someone more normal," moaned Alyx.

Sunrise Over Britain
Chapter 7

Weasley Residence, Town of Haven, evening of May 29th...

Arthur Weasley sat on the edge of his bed and sighed heavily. Tonight's town meeting and impromptu dance had been a smashing success, but he now found himself exhausted. Amelia's proclamation about Albus Dumbledore had come as a shock to a great many people and he had personally spent most of the night explaining to people that yes, the charges against Dumbledore were sound. Many people hadn't wanted to believe it and his own son, Charlie, was among them.

Arthur smiled briefly as he recalled managing to steal away from the crowd for a few moments of time with Melinda. He had even managed to drag her out, rather reluctantly, onto the dance floor for one dance. He recognized she was still grieving over the loss of her husband and that it would take time before she was ready to let him go, but for now he was content to be her friend.

After the dance, he had returned to the crowd, noticed Charlie scowling at him from a corner, and realized he'd have to speak to him soon. His son really was a good man, but he was working with incomplete facts. The problem was those Weasleys who knew the facts about what the family had done to Harry felt deep shame and didn't want to talk about it. No one had told Charlie about the theft of Harry's money and the payments going to Ron, or the fact that Molly and Arthur had known about the abuse, but had ignorned it at Dumbledore's request. In retrospect, Arthur realized it was a mistake to have not explained those facts to Charlie.

He laid back on the bed, pulling the covers over him and listened to the soft murmur of voices as people left the town hall and passed the cottage, laughing and joking. His house wasn't far from the hospital, so it wasn't uncommon for there to be sounds all night long. It was in the dark, during times such as these, that he admitted to himself that he was lonely. He thought of Molly and smiled in the darkness, his mind traveling back in time to a younger, beautiful Molly Prewett dressed in her Yule Ball gown. That was the way he wanted to remember her.

While Arthur fell asleep, Charlie was awake in his own room, writing in his charmed journal.

Having just come from tonight's town meeting I find myself troubled to think that so many are being taken in by this ruse. There had to be three thousand people in the magically enlarged hall, and yet they ate up every word spoken by Amelia Bones, Harry Potter and some Irishman named Michael O'Dalley.

According to Minister Bones, at least that's the title she's claiming now, Albus Dumbledore is a wanted fugitive of the British Ministry of Magic in Exile and his fugitive status is now known to the Irish Ministry, as well as other Ministries around the world.

Charlie looked up from his journal in annoyance. In the light of a nearby gas street lamp he spotted several people laughing and singing. They were coming from the direction of the town hall - obviously late night party types. Frowning, he turned back to his journal.

I am positive this is a grave mistake on the part of everyone here, but the 'Minister' is quite clear on the subject. Albus Dumbledore is wanted on serious charges. Given the look by this O'Dalley character, there is no doubt in my mind that he would attempt to arrest him should he show up in Haven after the Fidelius charm is lifted.

The biggest surprise of the evening was Harry Potter. I don't recall him being so well built or so tall, but then I haven't seen Harry since his participation in the Tri-Wizard Tournament. He talked about erecting a ward around the town similar to one he put around Britain. I don't claim to understand all the details, but putting a ward on an entire country seems to me to be an outrageous claim. The power required is astronomical, and he's just a boy still! Anyway Haven is warded, there is a designated apparation point and the town is supposedly under an anti-apparation ward. I haven't tested it, but it wouldn't surprise me to find the town warded like that.

Another thing that bothers me is Ginny. She performed an incredible feat of wandless magic the other night on me. Tonight, she and several others attended the town meeting in which they were all wearing a similar cloak. If I didn't know better, I would say it was some kind of uniform. It's scary. She's not the little sister I remember. Every time I see her or one of her friends walking about Haven, I see people treating them with respect. Even the Constables seem to think Ginny and her friends have some sort of unwritten authority. She makes me feel uneasy. It's like she is seeing into my mind and judging me. I think I'll speak to my Dad soon about finding work here and maybe getting a place of my own.

Charlie leaned back and rested his hand. He hadn't done this much writing since leaving Hogwarts. Through his window he saw that the party goers had vanished, leaving only the lights of the Hospital shining in the distance.

Johansen's Residence, Haven (June 2nd)...

"Where are the children?" Melinda asked as she sat down at the Johansen's kitchen table. She was off duty from the hospital and had wandered over to the Johansen's home as they were one of the few families she knew in Haven.

"Oh, most are out with Sven, helping in the fields. The twins are with George and Fred and the others are playing, or have been put down for their naps," Olga said as she poured tea for her guest and sat down across from her.

Melinda stirred her tea for a few moments before looking at Olga. "I'm not sure I thanked you or Sven properly for taking the children in," she began.

"Tsk! There is no need. We always wanted more children, Sven and I, but after Johan, I was unable to conceive again. The children, they are a joy to us."

"How are they doing?"

"Many had nightmares for some time, but they are getting better. They know they are safe here and part of our family. The youngest seem to be bouncing back the quickest, but the older children are beginning to trust again."

Melinda sipped her tea before replying. "I'm glad to hear it. I've been worried about their adjustment after all that's happened to them."

Into the silence that followed, Olga looked at her guest carefully. Now that she had been reassured about the children's welfare, the older woman could see the tension in Melinda's stiff posture and white knuckled grip on her teacup. With a mental shrug, Olga did what she had always done in situations such as these.

"Now that you've been reassured about the children, why don't you tell me what else has brought you here today?"

Melinda looked up, startled, causing Olga to laugh softly.

"It's obvious to anyone with the eyes to see, girl. Something else is bothering you."

Melinda shook her head a bit ruefully. "I should have known I'd get nothing past you."

"Perhaps you weren't trying to, hmm?"

"Perhaps not," the dark haired woman agreed as she picked up her teacup. Her eyes drifted to the kitchen window and became unfocused.

Olga took a quick sip of tea and said, rather casually, "I noticed you and Arthur Weasley dancing together in the town hall a few nights ago."

Melinda's eyes swung back to Olga sharply, but she remained silent.

"Ah. I think I see where the problem lies."

"And probably more clearly than I," Melinda replied, placing her cup carefully on the table.

"Oh, I doubt that," Olga said. "You see the problem, you just can't see the solution through the pain. Now, tell me and we will see what we can do, hmm?"

Surprised, Melinda found herself doing just that. She explained what had happened while at Arthur's cottage, including how Charlie had reacted to the twins' mistaken assumption that she and Arthur were dating, and the family fight that followed. She had, thankfully, missed most of it, but Arthur had told her about it a few days later when he'd stopped by to see her and apologize once more for the way his son had acted towards her.

Now she found herself torn. She didn't want to cause problems in the Weasley family, but she enjoyed the time she spent with Arthur. However, finding pleasure in his company caused her pain because she felt as though she was betraying Michael's memory.

"I feel like I'm being pulled in three different directions and I just don't know what to do anymore," Melinda concluded as she slumped back in her chair.

"The first thing to do is relieve some of the pressure you feel."

"It's not that easy."

"Oh, but it is that easy," Olga said firmly. "First, the responsibility you feel for the problems in the Weasley family are admirable, but misplaced. If what you say is true, most of the children like you and have no problem with you and their father dating..."

"We're not dating!"

Olga rolled her eyes. "Fine, then. Not dating. As I was saying, most of his children do not mind that he is... 'not dating' you. The problem lies with Charlie, not you. He and Arthur will work things out in their own time, or not. You may be the excuse for it this time, but if Arthur gave in to the demands of his child, it will not end with you, and he is a smart man to see it. Let them work it out between them and take your cues from Arthur."

"He said something very similar to me," Melinda said as she refilled her teacup. "But after spending so much time with the children at Mother Wilma's, the thought of causing a break between father and son is horrifying to me."

"You would not be the cause, my girl, just one of the symptoms," Olga told her.

Melinda thought over all that had been said, and then nodded. "You're right," she said quietly, meeting the older woman's eyes.

"Of course I am!" Olga exclaimed, her eyes dancing. She stood then and moved to the counter. Removing a dish towel from a pan, she cut two slices of very rich-looking chocolate cake and, taking forks from a nearby drawer, returned to the table. Placing one of the small plates before Melinda, she sat down and told the girl to eat before turning to her own plate.

When only crumbs were left, Melinda pushed her plate away and sighed. "I really need to learn how to cook!"

Olga collected the plates and took them to the sink, laughing. "Why bother when you can come here?"

"Hmm, very true. All of the calories and none of the work. But it doesn't seem very fair," Melinda said, grinning.

"But that won't stop you, will it?" Olga asked. "You know I love to cook for those who enjoy it."

When Olga began to fill the sink with soapy water, Melinda drew her wand and cast a quick cleansing charm on the dishes and then levitated them back into the cabinets.

Olga clapped merrily. "Come over for a meal anytime, my dear girl! I'll be happy to cook for you, if you'll do the dishes for me."

"Deal," Melinda told her, smiling as the older woman came back to the table and sat down next to her.

"It must be a fine thing to be a witch," Olga said.

"It does have its moments."

Olga stared at the witch for a moment, then shook her head and sighed. "I believe we have one more thing to discuss today, yes?"

"And what is that?" Melinda asked curiously.

"The feelings of guilt you have when you spend time with Arthur," Olga said, watching her closely.

Melinda looked away from the shrewed eyes watching her and closed her eyes for a moment. Standing suddenly, she wrapped her arms around herself and bit her trembling lip. "I know, it's foolish. Michael's gone and I need to accept it."

"Oh, child, there is nothing foolish about grief," Olga told her softly. "Nor is there a right or wrong way to mourn those we've lost.

"Acceptance will come in its own time, and with it will come the willingness to let go of what might have been. My mother used to say that when one door closes, another opens. She was right and, when you're ready, you will step through that door and move on."

"What if I don't know how?" Melinda asked quietly, tears slipping silently down her cheeks.

Olga stood and wrapped her arms around the younger woman. "When the time comes, child, you will."

Armagh, Northern Ireland (June 2nd)...

Antonin Dolohov looked up in surprise as Evans slapped down a newspaper on the table. Peering down, his eyes widened when he saw the headline.

Harry Potter Unveils Whole Town!

In a move designed to help the refugees from the troubles in Britain, Amelia Bones, the Minister of the British Ministry of Magic in Exile led this reporter and others on a guided tour of a town built by Harry Potter to house the refugees from the disaster that befell their country.

While precise numbers weren't available, the town of Haven boasts both a primary and secondary school, the complete library of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the seat of the Government in Exile and a hospital containing over three hundred beds.

"The Haven School of Witchcraft and Wizardry contains all we could salvage from Hogwarts before we had to evacuate. Minerva McGonagall, the Headmistress, hopes that by the start of next term we will be able to open our doors to Irish children as well as the children of the refugees," said Minister Bones.

Bones, who accepted the position after the evacuation from Britain, refused to say more about large numbers of Aurors in the town's population, except to say that the British Ministry would continue to lead the fight against Voldemort, even from this location.

According to Bones, the town now contains a branch of Gringotts bank and is working to bring in new businesses...

For Apparation Coordinates and Haven Directory, see page 3a.

Dolohov placed the paper down on the table again and thought furiously. He didn't have a lot of men, barely a hundred, including himself, and another forty who had yet to be marked or trained, and the town was undoubtedly warded to some extent.

He looked up at the man who'd given him the Daily Dublin. "Evans, gather up five men. I want to find out more about this 'Haven' so we can report back to the Master about it. Do not enter the town. It may have wards similar to those around Britain. No, better yet, take a few of the recruits who haven't been marked. Use one of the recruits to check out the town."

Evan nodded and walked from the room. Dolohov watched the door close behind him before going back to reading the paper. Perhaps I'll finally have some news to report to the Master after all, he mused.

Meanwhile, just a few miles away, a middle aged man checked into a rundown hotel. The man had spent most of the morning wandering about the city. It wasn't hard to find the Wizarding part of the town once one knew what to look for. And Tonks knew what she was looking for.

Padfoot Manor, Harry's Study (June 3rd)...

Harry reached over his desk and grabbed his cup of tea. With Hermione's help, he had just finished setting up for their daily morning meeting. Hermione had jumped into the job of being Harry's chief of staff concerning the war and Haven growth with a passion and Harry wasn't sure how he had muddled through without her help before. Every morning she went through the pile of incoming papers and whittle the pile down to just a few that he had to look at. She also came up with the idea of a daily breakfast meeting, in which major problems could be dealt with.

This morning the meeting was being attended by Miles, Draco, Michael O'Dalley, and Bill Weasley, who had assumed a leading role in the running of the town of Haven itself to help his father. Other mornings, Amelia would attend, or Minerva. Attendance varied, depending on the needs of the day. Surprisingly, Remus opted for a less visible approach. As Harry's chief of the household, and one of the lead researchers for the Brotherhood, he spent most of his time with Eocho and Hermione. He normally caught up with Harry in the evenings.

"... and Millicent is currently working her way through the list of blood purists at the school. She's basically set herself up in the same role as Pansy used to occupy. With Luna now gone from the school, she's using a more direct method to send me dispatches. Also, with Minerva's permission, we have asked the school elves to keep a closer eye on things than they did at Hogwarts. That information is forwarded to Minerva first, then sent to me if she deems it necessary," Draco said, while referring to his notes.

"What about Haven itself?" asked Bill Weasley.

Draco sighed and pulled another parchment from his folder. "Haven is more problematic. Few of the families had house elves back in Britain, so few are taking advantage of them here. We've put many to work in roles that would have been performed by municipal employees, doing this such as street sweeping, lamp lighting and so on. We have a few possible hot spots in town, but we do not have enough evidence to take action against anyone," Draco replied, then his eyes flickered to Bill warily. He was not about to go public with Ginny's suspicions until he had hard evidence on Charlie.

"And the twins?" asked Harry with a bit of a grin. He loved hearing what they were up to. He kept promising he'd visit with them, but so far hadn't found the opportunity.

Draco smiled in response. "Ah, yes. Well Q branch is experiencing some growth difficulties, but they continue to turn out items that have been used successfully by Miles' people. The demand for new products has increased the size of the twin's operation, but other than the occasional explosion, few people in the Operations Center even know they exist."

Miles winced at Draco's description. The last explosion had shifted the entire building six inches to the north and collapsed half the wards.

"On the international front, you know about the cauldrons Voldemort's looking for. We have people looking into the issue, but so far they haven't found anything. On a more disturbing note, we heard from the Norwegian Ministry. As it turns out, Durmstrang was hidden in Norway, though anyone who hadn't attended the school was unable to find it. Anyway, several high level members of the Norwegian Ministry made mention of their letters to their children going unanswered. So an Auror group was dispatched to the school to see if anything was wrong.

"The report goes on to say that all of the sixth and seventh year students are missing, along with most of the faculty and the school library. The students who were left behind were under a compulsion not to reply to any owl posts."

Harry leaned forward and placed his elbows on his desk. "So we're talking about what? One hundred students and perhaps ten teachers having gone over to Voldemort?" he asked with a frown.

"I'm afraid it's more serious than that, Harry," Miles said with a frown. "Durmstrang was a more popular school among the pure bloods. The school actually had a much larger student population than Hogwarts, despite Hogwarts having the greater prestige. The number of missing students is closer to two hundred and fifty, along with nearly forty teachers."

Harry scowled at the news. "Are we certain they've gone to Britain?" he asked.

When Miles and Draco both nodded, Harry sighed and lowered his head to one of his hands. He scrubbed his face tiredly with the other before looking up at them again.

"Miles, I want our people safe. I don't care who's holding a wand on them. We have enough experience with student aged Death Eaters. Let your people know they are authorized to use deadly force to safeguard themselves and their missions," he said in a weary tone, thinking of Dean Thomas, Pansy Parkinson and Theodore Nott.

Miles nodded again and scribbled a quick comment in notes. "Will you speak to Amelia about authorizing this, Harry?"

Harry waved a hand at him. "Yes, I'll talk to her about it. I don't want someone hurt because a sixteen year old got jumpy. I don't like our side using Unforgivables, but I don't see any other option... What else have you got for me, Miles?"

"Hmmm... Well, as you are aware, the number of rescue missions has dropped dramatically. All of the school families have been rescued... those who wanted rescuing, that is. Now our missions are more in the role of intelligence gathering. We have several operations that we're considering, but we need hard intelligence before we can do any of them.

"The American contingent arrived two days ago. I have to say they seem like a noisy bunch of chaps, but they do know their business. We'll begin joint training sessions with them in a few days. I planned on holding off until the Canadians showed up. Their group is supposedly larger than the American group. Several other Commonwealth nations have pledged sizable forces as well. Between Canada, Australia, New Zealand, India and the U.S., we're looking at over one thousand Aurors all totaled before the middle of the month. Add to that our Aurors and trainees and we're looking at a fighting force of nearly fifteen hundred.

"The European nations say they will be sending contingents later in the month, but the word out of Washington is that some of the nations may be less than forthcoming. Apparently, the French tried to dictate to the U.S. what their level of involvement would be among the muggle governments. The U.S. Government did all but threaten nuclear war if the French didn't back off.

"The American Department of Magic managed to put a stop to that, but the French are pretty upset about it. As a result, their Ministry is willing to help, but they are less than enthusiastic about it," Miles said.

Harry's expression grew distasteful and he made another note in his book. "I'll speak to Amelia about this also. I know nothing about international politics, but it's in no one's interest for the French and the Yanks to be fighting right now. And we certainly don't want anyone talking about their bigger weapons. I think we've seen too many of them as it is."

Miles smiled thinly and nodded to Bill Weasley.

Bill smiled nervously. His work with Gringotts and his abilities as a curse breaker meant he could have fit into many places. Instead, as a favor to his father, he had accepted the task of helping get the town's economy on track.

Harry started to chuckle at his nervousness. "Don't worry, Bill. This isn't like talking to Minerva."

Bill blushed and fumbled with his papers. "Damn Weasley complexion" he muttered under his breath and everyone chuckled.

"Alright, then. As everyone knows, the Fidelius Charm on the town came down three days ago. Amelia and Minister Mallory escorted the press around, showing off the town the same day. Since then, I've fielded requests to open several businesses, both from inside Haven and from outside."

Bill consulted his notes before continuing. "We have requests for frontage space for a clothing shop, a book store, two pubs, one restaurant and a toy shop. Of the requests so far, three are from local people. We also have two manufacturing companies that are looking to expand into Haven and take advantage of the space we have. Quick Quality Cauldrons is looking for a facility that will probably employ close to one hundred people, and Applebee's Apothecary Supplies is looking into the possibilities of opening up multiple greenhouses. Applebee's would only employ about twenty-five people, but I've been talking to them about moving their mail order processing here, as well. That would add another seventy-five employees. Finally, there is Granger Publications," Bill concluded, looking at Harry with a grinning.

Hermione scowled at him before turning her scowl on Harry, who smiled benignly back at her. Granger Publications was Harry's idea. He had hired someone to organize the basic structure and run the company for Dan and Emma. Dan would produce a version of his little book for each school year that would then be duplicated and sold as a study aid world wide. They were also exploring the possibilities of using the same format for Healer and Auror training.

The night that Harry had publicly announced Granger Publications at the town meeting, the Grangers, and Hermione had jumped all over him when they'd returned to the manor. It had taken some fast talking on Harry's part, but he had managed to make them understand the need for the company. The majority of the company was owned by the Grangers, with the minority in Harry's hands. That discussion had been one of the hardest Harry had ever had with his future in-laws and it was one he hoped to never have to have again.

"Yes, do tell about Granger Publications," commented Hermione in a dry voice.

Everyone snickered. It was common knowledge that Harry had sprung the company on Hermione's parents as a surprise. Bill coughed and looked nervously at Hermione before continuing.

"Well, moving on then. The Americans have moved in and are settling in nicely. The number of children has strained our capabilities somewhat and I've spoken to Minerva about that in regard to next year. Between our own capabilities and offers from the Irish, we should be fine when next September rolls around."

Bill shuffled through his papers, then turned his attention towards Harry again.

"Good news there, Bill. Keep on top of the school problems though. I suspect that Minerva will need to hire additional staff for September," Harry said after a moments thought. "Michael? Do you have anything for me?"

"Not really, my lord," said O'Dalley.

Harry frowned. He had been unable as yet to break O'Dalley of the habit of using that honorific.

"We've had a few cases of drunken rowdiness, but that's about it. Most everyone approaching the town is either coming up the road or using the designated apparation point. We've had a fair number of sight seers, but nothing we can't handle. As to the other matter, I've been reliably informed that your agent has made it up 'north'."

Harry nodded thoughtfully. "Thank you, all," he said, checking his watch. "Now if you'll excuse me, I still have some time before I have to meet with Eocho for my morning session."

As a group Miles, Bill and O'Dalley stood and filed from the room. Hermione turned to Harry and studied him for a long moment.

"You know Mum and Dad are still annoyed about what you did with Granger Publications," she said softly.

Harry leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes for a moment. "Yeah, I know. But it couldn't be helped. Granger Publications will ultimately be one of our largest employers for Haven. I had to get it off the ground without interfering with what your parents were doing too much. That's why I brought in an outside manager and put your parents in charge overall. I don't want them angry with me, Hermione, but I need that company up and running. Your Dad has the product and can make new ones. From there, it's out of his hands except to accept the profits. Personally, I still think his idea is brilliant. I wish I'd had one of his study aids back in my first year."

Hermione sighed. "Don't take this wrong. Your idea was good, Harry, it was the surprise that angered them."

Harry cracked opened his eyes and stared at her for a long moment. Hermione held his gaze. She was one of the few who could. "Hermione, you and I both know your parents didn't have the financial resources to start that company. They would have fought tooth and nail against my handing them a bag of money and telling them to go start it. All I did was start it for them, then hand it over."

Hermione smiled briefly, acknowledging that he was right. "But what about the part about keeping it secret from me? Your own fiancÃ©e?" she asked, curious to see how he would answer.

Harry chuckled. "You? You would have fought me just as hard, if not harder. You are your parents daughter in all ways," he replied with a laugh, quickly ducking the throw pillow she aimed at his head.

Haven Operations Center, Q Branch...

Helga and Inga opened the door to their office and were surprised to find it strangely silent. The two blonds exchanged a worried glance. Fred and George had increased the size of the office staff recently and to enter the office these days and find it silent was worrisome if not downright frightening.

"What do you think?" asked Helga in a worried tone.

"Let's look in the lab before we start to panic," offered Inga.

The two dropped their cloaks on a chair and approached the door to the large laboratory and testing area. The sign on the door admonished people to enter at their own risk. Opening the door they could clearly hear the sound of several people laughing at the far end of the large room. Curious now, the twins walked over to a small crowd of people.

Ginny, Fred and George's sister, was sitting on the floor, holding her sides and laughing, while Fred and George sat, staring sadly at the work bench looking at the antics of their latest creation. Standing next to Fred and George were several of their new staff members, all laughing as well.

Sitting on the bench were three, six inch high people who were busy pummeling each other.

"What is going on here?" asked Inga in a stern tone.

Fred hastily waved his wand and the three figures froze, while George stood up and turned to face the girls. Most of the staff hurried back to their own work stations, but Ginny remained on the floor, giggling. The Weasley twins shot her a murderous look before turning back to their girlfriends.

"Oh... um... nothing really. We were just trying out an idea that you'd mentioned once, but it didn't seem to work," George said sadly.

"One of our ideas? Which one?" asked Helga.

"The talkie walkie things. But it didn't work quite the way we planned," said Fred with a lost expression on his face.

Helga and Inga suppressed the urge to laugh at Fred's look. The Weasley twins hated to admit they hadn't succeeded in doing something. The duo looked as if someone had told them their puppy had died.

"So, show us. Maybe we can tell you where you went wrong," offered Inga with a smile.

Fred nodded and waved the girls closer to the table. He waved his wand and all three figures straightened up and looked at him expectantly. Ginny climbed up from the floor and stood at the end of the work bench where she could watch. Each figure seemed to be dressed in a white T-Shirt with a name on it, and a pair of pants.

Fred looked up as Inga read off the names on each figure. "Larry, Curly and Moe?"

"We needed to give them names of some sort. Amy suggested the names after seeing them in action," offered Fred apologetically.

"Now, our idea was to create something to carry messages, like those talkie walkie things," George said proudly.

"Walkie talkies, George," Helga said, smiling at her boyfriend.

George stopped for a moment and looked at her, then nodded. "Right, Walkie Talkies. So, anyway, the idea is to give the message to the Walkie Talkie and it would travel to another Walkie Talkie, pass the message along and then return."

"Moe," said Fred, "tell Larry that we need more Aurors."

Moe nodded and started to walk towards Larry, but he fell when Curly tripped him. Moe leapt to his feet and Larry ran over and poked Curly in the eyes. Curly immediately ducked down howling in pain. Moe moved to hit Curly, but instead hit Larry when Curly ducked. In just a moment the three where rolling around on the table, fighting. Ginny hit the floor again laughing and the twins' faces contorted in amusement at the sad expressions worn by Fred and George as they watched Larry, Moe and Curly.

"I think we need to explain Walkie Talkies better," suggested Helga.

Moe slapped both Larry and Curly in a single swing. Curly pulled a bowling pin out of his pocket and hit Moe in the head. It made a surprisingly loud thwapping sound.

Inga nodded, wide eyed. From behind them came a scream as someone fell through a hole in the floor. Both Fred and George looked over with interest.

"Look! They got it working!" shouted Fred, then he turned and bolted towards the hole in the floor with George in tow.

Helga and Inga followed behind them, never noticing Ginny freezing Larry, Curly and Moe and sliding the three figures into her pocket.

Helga ran after the two red heads. "Got what working? I swear I can't keep up with what you two are working on anymore," she complained.

Fred and George leaned over the perfectly round hole in the floor. The interior of the hole was pitch black and far away screaming could be heard emanating from it, as if coming from a great distance.

Fred looked up at one of the men nearby. "You used Amy as a test subject?"

The man nodded. "Yeah, I pushed her in," he replied with a grin, which Fred and George returned.

Inga pointed at the hole in the floor. "What the devil is that?"

George looked up at Inga. "This? It's a portable hole. It's really only about seven feet deep, but the illusion is that you are free falling forever. We think it will make a great trap for the Aurors. A person will remain in the hole until someone flips it over."

Fred ran a few diagnostic charms on the hole, then turned to the man who had pushed Amy into the hole. "Can you whip up a dozen of these for Miles' people to play with in the field?" he asked intently.

"I'll have them ready in a few days." came the reply.

"Excellent! Now let's go back into the office and talk about this Walkie Talkie business," said George linking his arm with Helga and pulling her towards the office.

"But... but... what about Amy?" sputtered Inga as Fred dragged her towards the office.

"Oh, someone will let her out sooner or later," Fred said with a shrug.

Padfoot Manor, Harry's Study...

Harry limped back into his study after his lesson with Eocho. Each lesson began in the same manner. They spent a short time communing, during which Eocho would pass key elements of the lesson to him, then they would put elements to practical uses for the remaining two hours. Brotherhood fighting techniques were brutal on his leg, but Eocho insisted that, as Maglios, it was up to Harry to learn these techniques.

Harry's mobility hadn't significantly increased, but his stamina and his ability to go for longer periods before his leg turned lame had increased, much to his pleasure. Eocho had taught Harry several spells that assisted him in dealing with his leg afterwards. One such spell he had warned Harry only to use in dire emergencies. The spell would give him nearly all of his old mobility back, enabling him to duel without the possibility of the leg going lame. But with the good, came the bad. The downside of the spell, according to Eocho, was that when the spell wore off, the disability of his leg would be increased, permanently. With repeated uses of the spell, it was possible for the leg to become a useless appendage, unable to sustain his weight for even short distances. The pain would be chronic, and permanent as well.

Harry sat in his chair and cast a spell which gently tightened his pant leg and warmed it around his calf, massaging his aching leg and providing him relief. It was probably one of the best spells Eocho had taught him. He sighed in relief, then considered carefully his next meeting, due to start at any moment.

Two small pops alerted him to the fact that his visitors had arrived. Looking up, he smiled at Dobby and the other elf and motioned for them to take a seat in the chairs he had conjured for them. Dobby scrambled into his chair, but the other elf looked scandalized by the notion of sitting.

"Please, Pappy, sit. I would like to talk to you both and I would personally feel more comfortable if you would sit down while I do," Harry said in a kindly tone.

The old elf looked up at Harry for a long moment before carefully positioning himself so he was sitting, just barely, on the edge of the seat. Pappy, or 'the Pappy' as the other house elves called him, was the oldest living house elf among those in Haven. It was the closest thing one could find in a position of authority among house elves.

Harry tried to smile reassuringly at Pappy, but he knew he couldn't break years of treatment as an inferior in a single meeting.

"Pappy, I know this sort of meeting is unusual, but it is very necessary. I have asked Dobby to attend this meeting, despite the fact that most elves think Dobby is an unnatural elf. Dobby has been very helpful to me and can help us here," Harry said, trying to carefully frame his opening remarks.

"Dobby is not right in the head," said Pappy firmly. Dobby's ears drooped and his eyes flashed with a touch of anger.

Harry made a motion to Dobby, preventing him from speaking. "Dobby is my good friend and part of my family. Regardless of what the other elves may think, Dobby is a Potter. I value his advice and his help in dealing with the other elves has been invaluable. For the duration of this meeting I will ask you to not insult my family," Harry said in a hard tone.

Dobby looked up at Harry and beamed, while the Pappy shivered under Harry's hard gaze.

"Now, moving along. I have a problem and I need to deal with it as quickly as I can. I need to prevent another Kreacher."

Dobby looked startled and Pappy looked confused.

"Dobby, perhaps you can explain to Pappy about Kreacher?" Harry suggested. He really wanted to help Dobby mend some of the fences between himself and his own kind.

Dobby nodded vigorously. "Kreacher was evil elf. He belong to house of Black. He committed ultimate evil for which Dobby and Winky punished him for Master Harry."

Pappy looked horrified. "Kreacher betrayed his master? Maybe Dobby isn't so bad after all."

"I need to avoid another Kreacher incident," Harry said, interrupting the two elves. "Kreacher betrayed Sirius Black and lied to me, which resulted in Sirius' death. We have many elves here in Haven. I need to make sure that none of them will betray us."

Dobby nodded in understanding, but Pappy looked horrified at the idea that any elf would betray them.

"Pappy, other than the Hogwarts Elves, and a few here in the manor house like Dobby and Winky, none of the other elves are formally bound to anyone and therefore not under the strictures of the Master/Elf bond," Harry reminded the old elf gently.

"We woulds be happy to bond with you, Master Potter. In fact, we needs to bond soon anyway," Pappy told him.

Harry nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, I am aware of the limitations on your kind. What I would like to propose is this. I will give every elf time to find a family in Haven who would take them in. Those elves than cannot find a family, I will accept either as a personal bond or as bonded to the town of Haven. Is this acceptable?"

"What ever you wants, Master Potter. It's not for house elves to decide such tings." said Pappy.

Harry sighed, knowing full well that trying to convince Pappy that he could make his own decision would be a useless gesture.

"Alright, then. Dobby? How many elves had joined in the war effort?" Harry asked curiously.

"There be five score helping Master Draco and another ten score waiting for their turn to help," replied Dobby.

The three talked for a few minutes longer before Pappy asked for permission to go alert the other elves of the changes.

"Master Harry?" asked Dobby after Pappy left.

"Hmmm?" Harry was still lost in thought considering the number of elves wanting to help the war effort.

"Was you saying the truth? Dobby is a Potter?" asked the little elf in a hopeful tone.

Harry broke away from his thoughts and smiled at his friend. "Dobby, back in my second year, you tried to save me from Tom Riddle and you did save me from Lucius. We are bonded by something stronger than the Master/Elf bond. I owe you a life debt. You are my friend and part of my family now, and for as long as the Potter line continues."

Dobby's eyes welled with tears and his lower lip quivered slightly. "Dobby will proudly carry the name of Potter and make my family proud of me," he declared.

"I know you will, Dobby. I've always been proud to be your friend, and am even happier that you are part of the family," Harry replied with a smile. Dobby nodded and vanished, leaving Harry chuckling to himself.

Padfoot Manor Grounds (Later that evening)...

Finding Harry tonight was easier than she thought it would be. She stepped onto the back porch and could hear the strains of his tin whistle playing in the distance. Following the sound of the music, she walked away from the manor and into the woods.

She didn't have to go far before she found Harry sitting with his back against a tree. Several piles of peanuts were strewn about the forest floor nearby and several squirrels were snacking on them. One squirrel, however, seemed to be particularly bold and was perched on Harry's shoe, its tail twitching in time to the music.

Harry's eyes lit up, spotting her, and he motioned for her to sit next to him. Hermione moved slowly closer, as she didn't want to frighten off his audience. Several squirrels chattered loudly at her when she got too close to one of the piles of peanuts, but most ignored her. Sitting next to Harry, she grinned when he smiled around his instrument and started a lively tune, causing many of the squirrels to twitch their tails in unison. Hermione had to suppress a laugh when she saw the dozen squirrels twitching in time to his music. When he was done, he leaned his head back and closed his eyes. His hand seemed to slip all by itself into hers.

"Are you alright, Harry?"

"Yes, I think I am," he replied, a soft smile on his face. He still had his eyes closed and wasn't looking directly at her. "I spoke with Dobby and the Pappy today," he said softly.

She frowned for a moment. "And?" she prodded.

"I had thought that bringing up Kreacher and Sirius when I explained the problem to the Pappy would be painful... but it really wasn't. I still miss Sirius, but it doesn't hurt as much now. I don't feel like I have a huge gaping hole in me anymore when I think of him."

"You're healed and moved on then," she said.

"I suppose I am," he replied thoughtfully, "but I should warn you one of our kids will be named Sirius."

She leaned into his shoulder and he wrapped an arm around her. "I think I can live with that. So who are your friends?"

Harry cracked his eyes open and looked to see her gesturing towards the squirrels. "Oh, them... Nutters and company. I haven't named them, I just bring them peanuts every couple days."

Hermione laughed softly, then turned to peer intently at him. "What did you tell Dobby today? I've never seen a house elf that happy. He's practically walking on the ceiling."

Harry chuckled at the thought. It was something he wouldn't put past the little elf. "I told him today that no matter what happened, as long as the House of Potter lived, he would be a Potter."

Hermione pushed away from him slightly and she stared at him with wide eyes. "You called him a Potter? Oh, Harry, you gave him the greatest compliment he could have ever hoped for."

Harry shrugged. "I meant it. He's saved my life at least once, twice if you count him catching that Razorback spider. Dobby is a lot like me, Hermione. He's the odd man out. His own kind fear and dislike him. Making him a Potter gives him a sense of identity that transcends being just an Elf. He wants to be free, but he also wants to belong to something. It's a feeling I can identify with."

His comments surprised and shocked her a little. "Do you really feel like you don't belong anywhere?"

Harry tightened his arm around her shoulder for a moment, then he turned and watched the antics of his furry friends as they scampered around the piles of peanuts.

"I used to, Hermione. Before Hogwarts, I thought I was completely alone. Then I discovered our world and thought I had finally found home. That changed for a while last summer, and then changed again as our relationship grew. I have my place, Hermione. I'm a Potter, and a Black and I have a wonderful woman that completes my life. Someday, when our jobs are done and we grow up enough, we'll raise a family and you'll teach the little ones to read and I'll teach them to prank and play Quidditch. We're different people, but we're like two halves of a whole. We balance each other out and rely on the strength of the other to help with our weaknesses."

Inwardly, Hermione was shocked to find Harry so serious and yet so focused. She looked at him with a fond smile, then decided it was time to lighten the mood.

"I know how you feel, Harry, but you have more weaknesses than I do. It's the flaw of being male," she said primly. She moved to smooth her skirt as if she hadn't said anything out of the ordinary, then squeaked in surprise when he tackled her and began to tickle her.

Government House, Haven (June 5th)...

Michael O'Dalley looked over another report and swore that if he had to look at another domestic violence report, he'd scream. His Constables had only been active for a few days and already there was a clear pattern of problems within the Haven community.

Amelia and Harry were aware of the problem and were working diligently to fix it, but it basically boiled down to too many adults with too much free time on their hands. Everyday more and more people were being put to work as businesses started up, or moved into town, but there was still a sizable number of people who needed employment.

O'Dalley shuffled through the report on his desk until he found the projection report provided to him by Bill Weasley. According to the report, nearly a third of the adults would have some sort of work available to them by the month's end. Others were fanning out from Haven, looking for work within the Irish communities. The Irish Ministry had bent over backwards to provide work permits for anyone looking to find work in Wizarding Ireland. They also offered a fast track to full citizenship for anyone looking to immigrate permanently from Britain.

In the meantime, O'Dalley had to admit that the three or four cases his men had to deal with every night weren't all that bad. No pubs had opened yet in town, although that was supposed to change within a week, so liquor was still in short supply. And, of course, he had come up with a novel way of punishing anyone that got excessively out of hand.

Every morning the Elves that took care of the garbage pickup found they had a disarmed wizard volunteer to help remove the refuse. Usually a single day of picking up garbage was enough to keep anyone from getting too rowdy on his watch.

O'Dalley put Bill's report back on his pile and glanced out the window of his office. He'd had a long, intense conversation with his wife last night and the thought of that conversation was enough to distract him from work. He had brought up the idea of moving to Haven. There were plenty of cottages and homes available, and they were bigger than where he and his wife were living now. Haven was growing and he was frank enough to admit to himself that he enjoyed being part of it. His children would have Wizarding children to play with, and he could live like a wizard, rather than hiding among muggles, as he did now.

He shook his head and jumped from his chair when a small wall map began to chime. A hand appeared, pointing to one area on the northern outskirts of the wards. Rushing to the door, he opened it and called to the group of five Constables.

"We have intruders. Section North six, outer ward. Get everyone over there. I'll join you as soon as I alert the backup squad leader."

Training and Ritual Room, Padfoot Manor...

Harry dodged a flying knife and conjured another set of small shields, which he then sent spinning down the platform.

"No, no, no! You must concentrate! Your opponent will see your shields and send his weapons over them! You must conjure them where you want them in the first place!" shouted Eocho, who demonstrated what he meant by pelting Harry with bursts of pebbles. The pebbles wouldn't injure him, but they would sting.

Harry nodded as Eocho banished Harry's metal shields. "Now begin again!"

At the far end of the platform, a series of knives appeared and flew towards him. Harry raised a hand and conjured a wall of solid ice. Deep thumping sounds were heard through the room as the knives sunk deep into the ice.

"Good! Good! Now multiple...," Eocho trailed off as Harry's eyes flared with power. He held out a hand and his staff appeared within it.

"There's been a breach in the wards," Harry snarled just before he vanished.

Eocho floated alone for another moment, smiling. "The Maglios keeps his duties," he said to the empty room, then he, too, vanished from the room, leaving only a melting wall of ice pitted with knives.

Haven outer ward, section North Six...

Harry apparated into chaos. He quickly cast a shield just in time for several Reductor hexes to splash harmlessly against it. He was confused for a moment. Several men were down and he wasn't sure who was fighting who.

"MY LORD!" came a shout and suddenly Harry pitched to his knees as someone tackled him from behind. Harry rolled out from under the person and pulled himself up to his knees. Deciding to put an end to this as quickly as he could, he used a wide field version of the Stupefy hex that Eocho had taught him.

"Stupefy prolixus agri!" he shouted.

There was a flash of light from the crystal orb atop his staff, followed by the sound of several wizards apparating away. He blinked his eyes furiously from the flash of light and could see the slowly fading shield left behind by the wizards who had just apparated away.

Standing, he looked around. Nearby was one dead Death Eater who had crossed the ward, and another man was down on his hands and knees, vomiting. Two of O'Dalley's Constables lay nearby, one stunned, the other badly wounded and bleeding heavily.

Harry took two steps and knelt next to the injured Constable. He looked up as O'Dalley knelt across from him on the other side of the man and started to apply several healing charms.

Harry reached over and unclipped the man's badge. "Portus," he murmured and the badge glowed blue for a moment. Then he laid the badge down on the man's chest.

"Take him to hospital, Michael. I'll take care of our guest," Harry said.

O'Dalley nodded gratefully and touched the badge on his injured comrade. A moment later, the two vanished.

Harry turned and stood. "Enervate," he said, pointing at the stunned Constable. The man blinked his eyes for a moment, then rolled over and climbed to his knees.

"Ambush! Everyone find cover!" he shouted.

Several of the Constables standing next to their prisoner started to chuckle at their friend.

"That's Charlie for ya!" shouted one Constable. "Slow on the uptake, but he always knows what's going on."

Laughter broke out among the Constables again. Harry couldn't help but admire the resiliency the men, going from an attack to cracking jokes and teasing one another in just a matter of moments. One of the men then noticed Harry, who stood off to one side, smiling, and nudged his fellow Constable. The other man looked carefully, then swallowed nervously and braced to attention.

"I'm sorry, m'lord. We didn't notice you there," began the Constable.

Harry waved the man to silence. "It's alright, Constable, stand easy." He then surveying the scene. "It looks like we have one unmarked Death Eater wannabe who try to cross the wards," he said in satisfaction as he watched the man in question become more violently ill. "And one marked Death Eater also made the attempt, judging from the body parts strewn around."

"Cor! He's a wannabe? I thought maybe someone hit him with a curse," exclaimed a Constable, pointing to the moaning man on the ground who was still trying to retch up his guts.

"Oh, he was hit by a curse alright. The same ward that will kill a Death Eater, will turn anyone with a black aura very sick. Right now our jolly fellow here is wishing he could die ,as every bone in his body feels like it's breaking as his stomach ties itself into knots," Harry said with a tight smile.

The other Constables looked wide eyed at Harry for a moment, then sternly down to their prisoner. The others exchanged a look. "Begging your pardon, m'lord, but what is the procedure with something like this? I know this was mentioned, but no one ever described the procedure."

Harry thought for a moment. "Well, when I put the ward around Britain in place, I made an agreement with the Irish Ministry about this. The prisoner would be questioned before being given an antidote. That questioning should be done with at least one Irish Auror present. I suppose the smart thing to do would be to disarm him, strip him of any equipment he might have and move him to one of the holding cells at the Operations Center until we can get an Auror and the antidote there..." Harry trailed off and stared into the nearby tree line, suddenly tense. Someone nearby had cast a spell!

Harry raised his staff high above his head. "Patefacio meus os," he muttered and the staff glowed as the nearby trees turned transparent. There was a popping sound and he had a brief image of an old man apparating away. Swearing, he turned to the Constables.

"Get the prisoner to the holding cells and alert the Irish. Tell Michael I want an update on his man's condition, as well as a report on the interrogation of the prisoner," Harry said angrily, his eyes flashing dangerously.

As one, the men nodded, and many saluted for good measure.

With one last look towards the trees, Harry vanished from sight.

"COR! Did ya hear that? He didna make any sound!" exclaimed an awestruck Constable. The others nodded and shivered just a little before turning back to clean up the scene and move the prisoner.

Padfoot Manor...

Harry appeared in the main foyer of the manor. His magic was flaring to match his anger. He was certain he had spotted Dumbledore, and so close to a Death Eater attack! Had the old man finally crossed the line that should not be crossed? He didn't know, but he did know one of his people had been hurt and he had arrived too late to be of any help.

The manor rumbled as his anger warred with his common sense and Harry knew he needed to get himself under control. He turned and walked purposefully towards the training/ritual room that they used for training sessions with Eocho. As he did, his magic distorted the very fabric of the manor. He could only hope that the room was empty.

Approaching the room, the door bulged inwards alarmingly before snapping off the hinges. Entering the room, he barely took note of the fact that Eocho was in session with Hermione and Luna, except to shield all three of them. Then he conjured a series of stone obelisks and directed his anger and frustration at them. He smiled grimly as they exploded soundlessly, one after the other.

Eocho drifted through Harry's shield and hovered behind him, waiting for him to pause. When Harry ran out of obelisks to destroy, he spoke.

"A most impressive display, Maglios, but do you not think you might channel your anger better?"

Harry paused and turned to look at Eocho. He seemed startled to see his mentor, though he had unconsciously shielded him when he'd entered the room.

"Anger is a powerful feeling," Eocho said softly. "Properly applied, you have power to move mountains, Maglios. But this uncontrolled, unbridled display is most unseemly. Especially when you interrupt my lessons."

Harry glanced over at Luna and Hermione, both of who smiled encouragingly at him and he felt suddenly embarrassed. "I apologize, Honored Teacher. I was angry and not thinking properly," he said, looking down at his feet.

Eocho stared at him hard for a long moment. "Yes, there is great anger in you, Maglios. And even greater power. The two make for a difficult mix. Go to the corner and center yourself, while I finish my lessons. Then we shall speak of how to use your anger properly."

Harry bowed slightly to his mentor and walked over to the corner, dropping the shield he had held on the two girls. Once in place, he stripped out of his shirt and shoes, then began to work on his Ti Chi sets.

Eocho drifted back to two girls, smiling at them both.

"Honored Teacher, is he alright?" asked a worried Hermione.

"Yes, my child, he will be fine. Your chosen has a great temper, which he must learn to control. I thought I could wait to teach him, but it seems I must start today. He saw something I know not, but it disturbed him greatly and caused his magic to slip from his control, something that should never be allowed to happen."

"Harry will be fine, Hermione. He has you and the rest of us to help him," murmured Luna. "He's just upset today because of what he saw."

Hermione turned to look at her strange friend intently. Luna often had flashes of insight that others didn't. "Do you know what he saw, Luna?" asked Hermione hopefully.

The blond shook her head. "No, I don't. But I do know it shook him."

Eocho stepped forward. "Enough. I will help the Maglios when we are done here. Now, let us talk about how proper placement of the runic stones will allow you to cast a spell over a very large area..."

Hogwarts Castle...

Severus Snape gave the potion one final stir and then sat back on a stool. The two Cauldrons of Chaos had been delivered several days ago and, as expected, he had been able to successfully create the final potion required. He had sent word to Voldemort two days ago that he'd be ready today. Now it was just a matter of waiting.

Snape moved away from the small cauldron and returned to the manuscript that most clearly defined the ritual. Some parts of the description were missing, so he used other books to help fill in the blanks. He had removed several of the nearby work benches in order to create the necessary space for the ritual, and had spent the last three hours balancing his time between covering the floor with runes and tending to the final potion. It hadn't been easy. The steel cable which tethered him to the ceiling had to be lengthened by several feet so he could kneel down on the floor to draw the runes, and that required Voldemort's permission.

The door to the dungeon banged open and Snape looked up, his expression paling. After all this trouble, he still wasn't sure that he wouldn't be the first victim of this ritual in over two thousand years. He didn't think so because it would leave him unable to make any more of the potion. But Voldemort wasn't known for making rational decisions.

The two guards stepped into the room. Both pulled their wands out and motioned Snape to move to the back of the room. Severus raised both hands and walked backwards until he bumped into a wall. He stayed there for a moment, shivering, and a line of sweat appeared on his brow. Voldemort then swept into the room and eyed him dangerously.

"So spy... I have been informed that you have completed the potion successfully?" he said in a condescending tone.

Snape nodded frantically.

Voldemort glanced at one of the guards behind him and the man hastily conjured a chair for the Dark Lord to sit on.

"So... Explain the process to me," Voldemort commanded.

"M-M-My lord... the process is quite simple. With the three potions, you can absorb the power of another wizard or even that of a muggle." he said, then slowly slid into lecture mode.

"Many people think Muggles and Squibs have no power, but that isn't accurate. They have power, just not enough to activate a wand. You could siphon the power of twenty muggles to get the same power as from one weak witch. But it works best with witches and wizards.

"There are three potions required. The potions in the blue and green flasks are for the victim, the white flask contains the potion of absorption, which you would drink."

Snape halted when Voldemort held up a hand.

"You will demonstrate this process," Voldemort said, then he snapped his fingers.

Two Death Eaters appeared in the doorway with a weakly struggling woman. She was filthy, heavily bruised and her clothing was torn. She was bleeding from somewhere under her skirt and moaning pitifully. Snape quickly schooled his face into a blank mask as he recognized the former Ravenclaw and Head Girl, Penelope Clearwater. Behind her walked Walden McNair.

"Severus, so this is where you have been hiding," McNair said with a sneer. "This slave was scheduled for disposal since no one wanted to use her anymore." he said, then he kicked Penelope.

She fell out of the grip of the two Death Eaters and lay on the floor moaning. Snape gestured to the two Death Eaters, who reluctantly reached down and pulled Penelope to her feet.

"Take her over and position her in the center of the pentagram," Snape said in an emotionless voice. He walked over and picked up the blue flask and a small ceremonial knife. Immediately, the two Death Eaters by the door had him under wand point. Voldemort raised one hand stopping them and Snape turned away from them, walking to where Penelope stood.

He looked at the two Death Eaters holding her. Placing the knife on a nearby work bench, he reached out and grabbed Penelope by the nose. She gulped a mouthful of air and struggled harder as the two Death Eaters tilted her backwards. Snape leaned forward and as she opened her mouth once more to take a breath, he poured the contents of the blue flask into her mouth. Then he dropped the flask and forced her mouth closed, while still holding her nose. She struggled weakly for a second, then she swallowed the potion.

Once she had swallowed, Snape stepped back and told the two Death Eaters to release her. Penelope swayed dangerously, as if she was going to fall, then she straightened up and stared at Snape with hate filled eyes.

"Traitor! Potter was right about you..." she snarled. Then she tried to spit at him, but it was too much of an effort for her. Slowly her eyes glazed over and she ceased all motion.

"She is now ready to begin the ritual. The first potion accomplishes two simple things. It gives her the innate knowledge she needs to complete the ritual, and the overwhelming desire to do so. Since the ritual won't begin until the recipient steps into the receiving circle, she'll stand like that until she dies of dehydration or starvation.

"McNair, drink the contents of the white flask, pick up the green flask and the knife, give both to the girl and then step into the receiving circle. The green flask contains a concentrating potion. It will concentrate her magic, then she'll release it. The potion in the white flask protects you at the same time as allowing your core to absorb and enlarge enough to accept what she gives you."

McNair quickly picked up the white flask and downed the potion, then he grabbed the green flask and knife, handed them to the girl and stepped into the circle just outside of the pentagram.

Penelope blinked at McNair for a moment, then she uncorked the flask. She placed the open flask at her feet and then sliced her wrist deeply. The blood dripped at a steady rate down her palm and she moved her arm so that some of the blood fell into the open flask.

The blood continued to drip into the flask until there came a hissing sound and smoke poured from the flask. Dropping the knife, she bent down and picked up the flask and drank the potion.

Penelope shuddered a few times and a look of sheer terror appeared on her face. It was possible to see she was fighting for control over the first potion and losing. Raising both arms over her head, she looked upwards as if in prayer.

"Ego tribuo vos meus vox," she shouted. Then she looked back down at Snape, sheer horror written on her expression. A bright pulse of light flowed down her body and into the pentagram and her scream caused many in the room to flinch back in sheer shock as her horror of what was happening to her was transmitted in that agonizing sound.

The pulse of light hit the pentagram and flowed into the receiving circle, enveloping McNair. McNair arched his back and screamed in reply as the power flowed into him, forcing his magical core to expand.

Pulse after pulse of light left Penelope. Faster and faster the pulses came, until they merged into a steady stream. After McNair's initial scream, he had settled down and seemed to be smiling, even standing a little taller, if that was possible.

Penelope, on the other hand, continued to scream, but her cries grew steadily weaker until there was one final bright burst of light as her core collapsed. She gave a strangled cry and collapsed in the center of the pentagram.

McNair stood breathing heavily and flexing his fists. He smiled thinly at the unmoving form on the ground. McNair turned and nodded gratefully to Voldemort and knelt. "Thank you for this boon, my Lord. I will use it in your name and your name alone," he said, then bowed until his forehead touched the floor.

"Yes, Walden, I know you will," Voldemort said sibilantly. "After all, you know the price of failure, do you not?"

McNair cringed on the floor and nodded vigorously.

Voldemort turned his attention back to Snape. "Well spy, what are the side effects?" he asked in a dangerous tone.

"My Lord?"

Voldemort smiled thinly. "Come now, Severus. Even I know a dark ritual like this is not without side effects and caveats."

Snape winced and nodded lamely. "You can only partake in the ritual once in a fourteen day period, my Lord, and the texts clearly say this ritual should not be repeated more than twenty times. They don't say what will happen, but it can't be good if they are warning against it."

"And the victim?"

"She is dead, my Lord. The ritual drains everything from her, including her life force. Only a small part of her magic goes into powering the ritual and some is lost in the transfer, but the bulk goes to the one in the receiving circle," Snape replied.

"Excellent. Prepare enough potion for myself and some others I will select. I will use the ritual to increase my power and the power of some of my personal guard," Voldemort said, then he stood and turned for the door. He paused in the doorway and turned back to Snape. "Severus, you may yet prove your usefulness to me. I am pleased. I think I'll have one of the slaves sent down here for your enjoyment. Use her, and teach her to clean your cauldrons. We can't have a Potions Master of your caliber wasting his time on trivial matters."

Snape bowed low to Voldemort, ever mindful of his precarious position. "Your generosity is overwhelming, my Lord."

"Yes, it is," Voldemort said, smiling thinly. With one final look at the corpse, he turned and left the room with McNair scurrying behind him.

The two Death Eaters picked up Penelope's body and followed McNair from the chamber and the door to his dungeon slammed shut. Snape leaned heavily against a table and wiped the perspiration from his forehead. Well, at least I won't be alone in here all day anymore, he thought bitterly.

Parliament Building, London...

Lucius Malfoy sat and stared sourly at the pile of parchment and paperwork sitting on his desk. It had sounded like running a country would be a wonderful thing, but no one had told him about all the work it entailed.

The door to his office opened and his aide, an oily wizard by the name of Hammersmith, stepped into the office.

"You wanted to see me, sir?" asked the younger wizard.

"Yes. I want a progress report on young Dudley," Lucius said with a deceptive smile.

Hammersmith nodded. "Yes, sir. Young Dudley was rather intransigent at first, but as you suggested, a carrot and stick approach worked well enough. Judicious use of the Cruciatus curse when he was uncooperative and rewarding him when he was cooperative made him see reason. Since then, he's been rather well behaved."

"And what is he learning?"

"Right now, Sir, it's mostly basic physical training. He wasn't in very good shape. We turned him over to one of the muggle military trainers, who thinks he's being trained for a secret assassination mission overseas. Apparently, one of the muggle government organizations used to carry out secret assassinations, so the story turned out to be quite believable.

"Anyway, he's undergoing intense physical training and also learning the use of some of the muggle firearms. When he's done especially well, the muggle trainer will allow him some time with one of the girls we keep around to entertain the troops. We've also discovered that Dudley has some unique tastes in his women and prefers to be rather rough with them."

Lucius nodded and waved the man to silence for a moment. Dudley's sexual preferences wasn't anything he was interested in.

"When do we think he'll be ready to use?"

"We still need another few weeks, Sir. We take him at least once per week to see his parent's bodies, as you ordered. And we've done everything we can to reinforce the idea that Harry Potter is the reason why his parents are dead. His rage against Potter is becoming quite intense."

"Excellent. Most Excellent. Stay on top of this project, Hammersmith. I want him ready as soon as possible. Try offering him more incentives, even if it means catering to his unusual tastes," Lucius said thoughtfully.

"I'll do that, Sir. Will there be anything else?" Hammersmith asked.

"No... Yes. Send that idiot, Akers, to me. He's been sending me reports about troop movements all week and it's giving me a headache," Lucius replied wearily.

"Yes, Sir," Hammersmith said, then exited the room.

Ballincollig, County Cork, Ireland (Evening, June 5th)…

Albus Dumbledore paced back and forth in his little room and swore sulfurously. Charlie had warned him that the Government in Exile considered him a wanted fugitive, but he thought he could sneak into the town, or perhaps just talk his way in, depending upon who he met at the apparation point. His status didn't bother him very much. The Aurors had been unable to catch him when Fudge and Umbridge ordered his arrest, and they wouldn't be able to catch him now.

If ever there was a time for making mistakes, now was not that time. And yet, today, he had made a colossal mistake.

He had been walking up to the main apparation point of the town of Haven when he detected the surge of magic and decided to investigate. Apparating over the town to the northern area, he had entered a wooded section of land and moved south towards the wards he could sense. There was plenty of magic flaring in the area and he suspected a battle of some sort.

Moving from tree to tree, he had arrived on scene just in time to see several men apparate away. He crouched down behind a tree and watched as Harry Potter knelt over a wounded man, then the wounded man and another vanished. Harry then turned and spoke with the other men for a while. That was when he made his mistake.

The spell he had cast was very low power, undetectable by his standards. All it would do was allow him to listen to what Harry was saying. But Harry had apparently sensed the spell and cast a revealing charm. He thought he managed to apparate out in time, but he wasn't sure. It was a foolish risk and one he wasn't prepared for. He wasn't ready to confront Harry right now, especially after he had found that the Ministry wanted him.

Dumbledore paused in his pacing and considered his next move. He needed to get inside Haven... and soon.

Padfoot Manor...

Harry leaned forward and hung his head down. Then he felt a pair of hands massaging the back of his neck and he leaned into the touch.

"Another headache?" Hermione asked softly.

"Yeah. Danni says they're just stress headaches and repeats her advice about taking it easier or taking some time off," he replied, then he looked up, scanning the room.

People were still coming in. He had called for a meeting of all his advisers tonight and people were coming in from all over Haven. The only person that would be missing from this meeting would be Tonks, who was up north on a mission for the Irish.

He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch.

"I'll talk to Remus. Maybe we can arrange for a weekend break," Hermione suggested, still massaging the base of his neck.

"That would be nice. Maybe we could even go to a movie or something?"

"I'd like that," she replied, smiling at the idea. "It looks like everyone's here now, Harry."

He opened his eyes again and looked around. "Yeah. I best get this show on the road," he said, standing up.

The room fell silent as everyone noticed Harry moving to the front of the room.

"Thank you all for coming on such short notice, but I have something I want to show everyone. It's a memory. I placed the memory into a presentation pensieve about an hour ago. Both Remus and Hermione witnessed that the pensieve was empty prior to my placing the memory in it."

Harry paused as glances were exchanged. Harry's method seemed very extreme, as if he were trying to set a legal precedent or something.

"After the Pensieve plays a very short sequence, I will ask everyone a single question. Then I'll go into more detail about what you were seeing. Remus, would you start up the pensieve, please?" Harry said, motioning to Remus.

The image above the pensieve grew to nearly full size.

Harry raised his staff high above his head. "Patefacio meus os" he muttered and the staff glowed as the nearby trees turned transparent. There was a popping sound and he had a brief image of an old man apparating away.

He let Remus replay that sequence several times before stopping him and turning to face his audience. "I know who I think that person was. I could feel his aura and his magic. The question is, who do you think it was?"

Harry looked at everyone, no one wanted to break the silence, so he called on Minerva McGonagall.

"Minerva?" he asked softly.

"It looked like Dumbledore, Harry," she replied.

"Arthur?"

"Dumbledore," came the reply.

Harry went around the room. Some, like Bertrand Lovegood and Narcissa Black, were unsure and therefore unwilling to say one way or the other. Most, especially the Outcasts of Hogwarts, thought it was the former Headmaster. While it wasn't unanimous, the majority seemed to feel the image was that of Dumbledore.

Harry leaned against the mantle of the fireplace and crossed his arms, facing everyone. He had long since bled off the anger he felt concerning Dumbledore and he really didn't want to go through another lecture from Eocho about controlling his temper.

"That image," he said in a voice that could barely be heard, "came from my recollection of the Death Eater attack on Haven today."

"What?" Arthur shouted as he jumped to his feet.

"Tis true, Arthur," said O'Dalley. "I wasn't there at that moment, but I spoke with my men who were. They also saw the old man before he apparated."

Minerva sat shaking her head, trying to come to grips with what Harry was saying. Finally, she pinned him with one of her patented McGonagall stares. "Are you implying that he's joined forces with Voldemort, Harry?"

Minerva's voice cut through the room like a knife, silencing every argument instantly. She had long ago learned how to pitch her voice to be heard over the din of students and this was no different. All eyes turned to Harry.

Harry shuffled his feet and ran a hand through his hair nervously. "I honestly don't know, Minerva. What I do know is after the fight, we were cleaning up and talking about the prisoner when I sensed another spell being cast. It was really low powered, I barely felt it and well... you see the result," he replied with a shrug.

"I, for one, do not believe that Albus would have joined forces with Voldemort," Amelia stated in a matter of fact tone.

Harry looked at her curiously and motioned for her to explain her point.

"Well, consider the two men. Both are egotistical to an extreme, and diametrically opposed to the goals of the other. We know that even when Dumbledore was harming Harry, he was still fundamentally opposed to Voldemort. The two are incapable of working together," she said. Several others in the room nodded in agreement.

"I tend to agree with Amelia as well, Harry, but I think it would be wrong to automatically discount the possibility that he has joined forces. I think it's improbable, but not impossible," Remus said softly.

Minerva sat for a moment, then nodded her agreement.

Harry looked around the room. "Alright, is there anything we can do if he has joined forces with Voldemort?"

The room was silent and several people exchanged glances, then O'Dalley coughed. Harry looked over at him expectantly. "Yes, Michael?"

"Well, my Lord, we can increase his fugitive status. We tell the Irish and other Ministries that we now suspect him of crimes and consider him a high flight risk, rather than just being wanted for questioning. I know we've tried to play his status low key, but increasing his fugitive status would bring more pressure to bear on him. Additionally, by informing the Irish of his involvement in today's little fracas will give them reason to want him, as well."

Harry couldn't help but smile as O'Dalley made the distinction between himself and the Irish Government. He was on permanent detached assignment from his government and he was fully intent on letting everyone know he was a Havenite. He had even spoken to Remus about relocating his family to the town as soon as the school year ended.

Harry looked to Amelia, as this advice was out of his league.

Amelia pondered it for a moment before speaking her thoughts.. "Yes, it would put more pressure on him, especially if the Irish put out a wanted poster on him. But I'm not sure what his response would be. We could force him into the open, or force him underground, in which case we'd never find him."

Harry's expression hardened. "If he comes into the open, we'll deal with him. If not, we have more important issues to deal with and, to be honest, he's draining our resources. If a poster can send him scurrying for a hole to hide in, I'm all for it."

Amelia and O'Dalley nodded in agreement. "I'll contact Minister Mallory tomorrow about it, Harry," Amelia said calmly.

"Michael, did we get anything out of the man we captured?" asked Harry.

O'Dalley managed to partially hide his disappointment. "Not much, my Lord. We managed to confirm that he came from up north, in the region of Armagh like we suspected, but that's about it. The Death Eaters on his side of the Irish Sea are playing it close and not divulging a lot to the uninitiated. On the other hand, the Irish are ecstatic about this capture. Apparently, this bad boy is wanted for a number of anti-muggle crimes, including murder and rape."

Harry smiled grimly. A moment later, the atmosphere relaxed even further as Dobby and Winky popped into the room, bringing drinks and dessert.

The Weasley Residence, Haven...

Bill and Charlie Weasley looked up as the front door of the cottage opened. When Arthur and the twins entered, Bill smiled and set his book aside.

"We've been wondering where you three have been," Bill commented, noting the tired expressions on their faces.

"You've missed dinner," Charlie added, watching them closely.

"There was a meeting up at the manor," Arthur told them as he sat down the couch.

"Discussing the attack, were you?" Bill asked.

"Yes, for the most part," Fred confirmed, taking off his coat and hanging it up on the coat rack.

"So was it just some random Death Eater attack, then?" Charlie asked curiously.

"Yes. Well, maybe. There was an interesting and totally unexpected element to it, though," Arthur said, pinching the bridge of his nose and trying to fight off the headache he felt coming on.

"Oh?" Charlie asked, sitting forward on his chair and closing his book.

"It seems Dumbledore was involved somehow," George piped up, sitting next to his father.

"Dumbledore!" both Charlie and Bil exclaimed.

"Yeah, strange isn't it? Would have thought the old man would have been smarter than to get himself involved with that bunch," Fred told them, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms over his chest.

"We don't know that he was involved, Fred," Arthur said. "It only appeared that way."

Fred shrugged. "Whether it's true or not, I still say he has a big pair of brass ones to show his face around Haven."

George snorted. "Regardless of what they're made of, if Harry catches him, his balls will be hanging over the mantel place in Harry's library."

"Really not a picture I needed," Bill said, scowling at a grinning George.

"How do you know it was Dumbledore?" Charlie asked his father.

"Harry's pensieve memory of the event," Arthur said.

When Bill started to argue with George, Charlie looked down at his feet, thinking quickly. Pensieve memories could be altered. Dumbledore had told Charlie enough for him to know Harry would do anything to discredit Dumbledore in the eyes of the magical world. Altering his memories enough to implicate the greatest living wizard to fight for the light would fit neatly into Harry's plans.

Charlie looked up then, watching his family and trying not to scowl. Harry was dragging the Weasley family into darkness and turning them away from the one man who could save them from destruction.

After retiring to his room later that night, Charlie pulled out his journal and wrote down the events of the day, including the fact that Harry and many others now believed Dumbledore to have been involved in the attack on Haven.

The next morning, a message was waiting for him in the journal. Proceed with plan. Will explain all when you have completed your task.

Closing the journal and slipping it under his bed, he made his way into the kitchen. Finding his father alone, sipping tea, he knew he'd find no better time.

"Morning Dad," he said, pouring himself a cup.

"Hello, Charlie," Arthur replied sleepily. "You're up early."

"I wanted to talk to you about something without having to deal with the others."

"Oh? And what would that be?"

"With Bill, the twins and me here, things are getting a bit crowded. I was thinking of putting up a cottage of my own. You said there was still room for more buildings around town, and I found the perfect spot for one. It's quiet, away from the hustle and noise."

Arthur frowned. "Are you sure? We could enlarge the cottage if it's just a matter of space."

"No, it's not just that. Dad, I've been working on dragon reserves for a few years now and I'm not used to the noise level of so many people around all the time. The twins come in at all hours of the night and I'd forgotten how loudly Bill snores," Charlie said, chuckling. "It's funny. The occasional dragon's bellow I can handle. But kids screaming at each other? Men and women laughing and playing music in the town hall? It goes right through me now."

Arthur placed his hand on his son's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "Well then, since you're sure, we'll go over the maps of Haven and make sure your building site is available and see about getting some of the house elves to help with construction."

"Maybe we could stop off and get breakfast when we're done?" Charlie suggested.

"I'd like that." Arthur finished his tea and stood. "Let's get started, then."

The Broken Wand, Armagh, Northern Ireland (June 10th)...

The Broken Wand pub was probably one of the worst Wizarding pubs in Armagh. Even the water was watered down, and the sawdust covered floor hid centuries of dirt and blood that had been spilled in the dive. The Leaky Cauldron in Diagon Alley had achieved an effect of appearing mid-eighteenth century inside. The Broken Wand appeared to be mid-fifteenth century and, unlike the Leaky Cauldron, the interior ambiance wasn't deliberate.

The normally run down building appeared empty and deserted during the daytime and only assumed an air of activity after dusk. To a passing muggle, the building looked burned out, a by product of years of conflict between Catholics and Protestants.

The slightly graying man turned the corner and walked down the street towards the pub. Looking in both directions to ensure that no muggles were visible, he opened the door slightly and stepped inside. He was a modestly built man with a receding hairline and a touch of a pot belly.

The man looked about as dangerous as a neighborhood girl scout selling cookies. Remus called it her Pettigrew impression, a persona so innocuous, no one would suspect Tonks was a fully trained Auror.

For the past five days Tonks had been coming into this pub every evening and participating in an illegal card game. Undercover work was slow, time consuming and stomach churning work. She had slowly been accepted by some of the players, but only because she tended to lose a lot, and was free with buying drinks. During the last week, she had picked up a few rumors. She had learned that the brothel down the street offered bulk discounts and polyjuiced prostitutes. She had also learned that Mickey, the bartender, was a part-time fence, as well as being a dealer in illegally charmed muggle objects and a number of narcotic potions.

The key thing she had also learned was that there was a strong anti-muggle sentiment in the pub and that if one were the right type of person, work could be found for a wizard with anti-muggle attitudes.

"Did ya hear what Mickey said? He said Mason needed some boys for a job in a few days." said one of the players known only as Jones.

"Wouldn't hurt to earn a few quid," Tonks said diffidently, while looking at her cards.

The others looked at Tonks in surprise. She always seemed to have money to play in their game, and plenty to lose.

Tonks looked at the others. "What? Did yer think the pot was bottomless or sumting? I know you fellas have certainly taken more than yer fair share from me."

The men laughed and one of them slapped Tonks hard on the back. "Aye, that we have, but yer kept coming back fer more Teddy!"

Tonks smiled sheepishly and nodded at the men. She always used her father's name when working undercover as a man.

"So what kind of job is it? Anyone know?" asked Tonks.

Jones snorted. "Knowing Mason, it's either killing or cleaning up after one. He runs with a rough crowd. We hate muggles," he said, pointing to himself and his friends, "but we mostly complain about them. Mason likes to take matters inta his own hands."

Tonks scowled. "I ain't too fond of muggles meself. They drove me outta business," she asserted. "You gents have been relieving me of the last of my quid."

The other men nodded sympathetically. "Ain't it the truth! Muggles and muggleborn move in and, next thing you know, yer outta work!"

Jones poked Tonks in the shoulder. "If you don't mind getting a wee bit of dirt on yer hands, tell Mickey to set up a meeting with you and Mason."

The next time Mickey came over with a round of watered down beer, Tonks slipped him a fiver and made quiet arrangements to be introduced to Mason when he came in later that evening. Then she settled down and played the hands dealt to her despite the fact that Jones was cheating outrageously.

After two hours of losing steadily, Mickey walked over to her and leaned down. "You wanted to meet Mason? Take the corridor in the back. He's in the second room on the left."

Tonks nodded and shot the man a nervous look, then she smiled nervously at her friends before folding her cards and standing up.

"Good luck, mate," called Jones.

This is what Tonks had been hoping for all week. She had learned from the Irish that Mason was one of the meaner crime bosses and if anyone was working with and knew where the Death Eaters were, it would be him. She opened the door and stepped into the dimly lit corridor. No neat sconces lit this area. The earthen corridor plunged downward at a sharp angle and was lit by a few smoky torches. From what she could see, the corridor was very long.

It took her nearly three minutes to come to the first door on the left, and she estimated that she was now a good fifty feet underground. The earthen corridor slowly gave way to roughly hewn stone.

After a walk of nearly five more minutes, she came upon the second door. This door, unlike the first, was more ornate. The heavy oaken door had highly polished brass hinges and a ornate lion headed knocker. Above the knocker was an interesting crest, which appeared to be made entirely of gold. It held a lion and the words "Vires in numerus".

Tonks blinked in surprise. She had seen the crest before, but couldn't recall exactly where or when. She hesitated a moment longer, considering the crest, then she knocked on the door.

There was a moment of silence, then the door swung inwards revealing a room cast almost entirely in darkness. She guessed it was a small antechamber to a much larger room. She stepped inside and waited. The door swung shut behind her and the far wall fell away from view, revealing a brightly lit room with several dozen people watching her. She moved to grab her wand when two wands pressed firmly against the back of her head.

"Move another inch, mate, and they'll carry you out in spoon size bits," a voice growled behind her.

Authors Notes:

Oh Evil cliff hanger! How could we do this to you? Why would we do this to you? Simple, it's (a) fun and (b) all Alyx's fault. Blame her. She's the one that let us run out of pizza.

Alyx and I are thinking about renaming this section of the file. It's at the bottom of the file, maybe we can call it the Dregs, or the Scrapings? Maybe its like the bottom of the barrel, you know where things start getting moldy and have a strange unappealing odor like those socks you once left in your gym locker for six months. Don't deny it! I have pictures to prove it, and the coroner's reports. So anyway right now this is still the Author's notes, not to be confused with Arthur's notes. And mind you we don't mean the PBS Arthur either. I hate that little bugger.

For all those whining about Charlie. Don't worry, eventually things will get straightened out with him. BUT in the mean time the more people whine about him, the more fun we're finding it to torture him. Not only do we get to twist Charlie, but we get to torment you, our lovely readers who have failed to send us any crispy crème donuts. So there.

For those wondering about Ron's body. What does a spider usually do with it's victim after its fed? Go away you twisted sick people that want dead bodies to appear.

OK. LISTEN UP PEOPLE, BECAUSE THE NEXT PERSON THAT CLAIMS CHARLIE WOULDN'T LISTEN TO DUMBLEDORE IS GOING TO GET AN AVADA KEDAVRA ENEMA. Charlie was raised believing that Dumbledore didn't fart. Nope, the man passed his gas into an alternate dimension and could do no wrong. His parents told him Dumbledore was the leader of the light, the pin in pinnacle, the ace in space! His parents told him how Dumbledore saved the world, and the spotted owl from the evil clutches of Colonel Sanders and his sidekick Grindelwald. In other words, since the red headed kultz has spent the last five years running around shoveling dragon dung and basically ignoring the rest of the world. He don't know jack about what Dumbledore has been up to. And Arthur didn't want to try to cast aspersions on his ex wife by writing Charlie a letter saying 'that bitch followed that asshole Dumbledore and I nearly ended up in jail because of it!" So does Charlie accept Dumbledore? YES HE DOES. If you don't like it, duct tape your fingers before you decide to leave another review questioning why Charlie is doing what he's doing.

Things are finally starting to move along. It took a while, but getting all the starting pieces in place, and explaining why things are the way they are took a while. Unfortunately this is no longer your standard Harry boffs girl, Harry kills bad guy story. It's become a multinational epic tail and we even include the French (sorry, our contract clearly stated we had to include the French and Canada, we managed to wiggle out of Canada, but we're stuck with the French). You just won't believe the logistics for this tale! Why its taken us ummmm minutes on map quest to pick out locations! And the art work! Oy Vey!

To Bob S, who claims to have 'snorked' at the last chapter. We're terribly sorry about that and hope you didn't permanently damage anything important. Lord knows a good 'snork' is fun now and then, but we also know how addictive and damaging they can be. At the bottom of this file, just for you, we have included a recipe for an anti-snorking potion. That is if you can find Snorkack. Need I really explain that Snorkack is kack from a wild Snork?

For all those who want to see Dumbledore cross the line. Well I think you'll find this chapter interesting.

To everyone that complained about the ranks being assigned by the house elves and the fact that they seem to be totally random. Well of course they are. The Elves are getting the ranks from bad British war movies (Did they ever make a good war movie?) So don't complain to me. Don't complain to Alyx, complain to the Elves.

On a more serious note..... we will try to include at least one date in every chapter so that people know when they are. We realize that some have gotten lost and turned left when they should have turned right. But we'll straighten you out.

Crys, we're sorry if you're getting pissed off at our characters. But isn't that the point? I'd rather have you pissed off at them than at me. *** Grin ***

UPDATELESS LIST ADDITION!!!!!

Yes, it's another addition to our updateless list. This useless little list is designed to highlight what I consider are true gems of fan fiction, or would be if the authors actually updated them once in a while. Candidates for the Updateless list must have not been updated within the last sixty days. And I have to approve them.

So without any further fanfare, here's this chapter's UPDATELESS WINNER!!!!

Harry Potter and the Mind Mage by James Milamber.

http://www.fanfiction.net/s/1905554/1/

This gem hasn't been updated for over six months and is probably abandoned. If this were being updated on a regular basis I'd be recommending this as a wonderful story. As it is, it's disappointing because its incomplete. Good read, no end in sight. Sigh.

Back to:: Harry Potter » Sunrise Over Britain

Sunrise Over Britain
Chatper 7 - And so it begins

By Bobmin

Sunrise Over Britain Chatper 7 - And so it begins

By Bobmin

Sunrise Over Britain
Chatper 7 - And so it begins