Content Harry Potter
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"Are you sure Muggles wear clothing like this?" asked Albus Dumbledore.

"Oh yes Sir, absolutely!" replied Hermione. Harry sat a little further back offstage trying hard not to laugh hysterically.

"My word! Muggles certainly are imaginative!" Dumbledore said, sucking on a lemon drop.

"Do you remember your lines sir?" asked Hermione.

Dumbledore nodded and eyed the stage with relish.

"Your on!" shouted Harry. Dumbledore nodded, a glint in his eye and he stepped out onto the stage wearing a studded leather bustier, fishnet stockings and thigh high leather boots ending in six inch stiletto heels. He wore a dainty crown and around his waist a tutu.

"Good Evening Ladies and Gentlemen. Before we can begin these evening's show, the sponsors would like me to tell you that the authors of this story make no claim to any rights or ownership of Harry Potter, here, or in any parallel dimension. All rights to Harry Potter and the Potterverse belong to JK Rowling."

There was a pause and a frame was slowly lowered from the ceiling. Tied to the frame and covered by a sheet was Severus Snape. Dumbledore walked over to the frame and tilted it to the studio audience could see him better. He was gagged and his eyes were bulging out of his head.

"Now moving right along," Dumbledore said with a grin. "Today's lesson concerns alien abductions and how to tell if you've been anally probed. Our volunteer, Severus Snape has been probed for tonight's demonstration. Unfortunately the Wizarding world knows little about aliens, so we asked Amy to serve as our probe for the evening..."

"STOP!" yelled Alyx.

"What?" asked Bob

"You're not going to do this! I refuse to let you get away with this! How could you?" Alyx raged at him.

"Well I wanted to use a penguin but I didn't have any handy!" protested Bob. Meanwhile the sheet slid enough off Snape to see a pair of feet sticking out of an impossible place. Alyx quickly closed the curtain and turned to the audience.

"I most humbly apologize for Bob. He made the mistake of sending me this file early and as a result I've not been able to make sure he gets his meds on time."

Meanwhile Bob ignored Alyx. He hovered over the stage a few feet in the air and chanted "I am Bobholio!"


Sunrise over Britain
Chapter 13


Padfoot Manor, Harry and Hermione's room (evening of August 25th)...

Harry stepped out of the bath and toweled himself dry before dressing. He knew he had been extraordinary lucky not to have been injured. It was something Caleb spent nearly an hour shouting at him about.

He leaned over the sink and cast a shaving charm. It wasn't as precise as using a razor, and there was the slight chance that you might miss and lop off an ear, but he was too tired to bother with his razor tonight.

Stepping out of the bathroom, he grinned. Hermione sat at their breakfast table sipping tea, while in front of his seat sat Dobby's idea of a light dinner. Harry sat and surveyed the rack of lamb, potatoes and gravy and shook his head. He started pulling items onto his plate when he noticed Hermione didn't have one.

"Not hungry?"

"No, I had something light earlier."

"Light? If Dobby made it, it was probably elephant sandwich!"

Hermione laughed and started to choke on her tea. After a moment she was able to breath again and she shot Harry a reproachful glare.

"I'm going to tell Dobby what you said."

"My Heart, in case you haven't noticed, I haven't said a word. In fact, I'm talking with you and eating, and not speaking with food in my mouth."

"Oh, fine. Rub it it."

Harry waggled his eyebrows at Hermione and she flushed.

"Stop thinking dirty thoughts at me and eat your dinner," she sent him.

Harry chuckled and went back to eating. When they weren't directly talking he could still feel her through the channel, surface emotions and the like. It was a sensation he found comforting.

The couple sat quietly after he finished dinner. When Harry looked over at Hermione, who was staring out the window, he noticed her shiver slightly.

"What's bothering you?"

"I'm not..."

"Yes, you are. Something is bothering you, Hermione, and I want to know what it is."

She grimaced, then sighed before lowering her head. A single tear rolled down her cheek and Harry jumped from his chair in alarm.

"I guess this is one of the drawbacks of the bonding. I can't hide things from you."

He knelt by her side and wiped the tear away. "Not easily, you can't. But isn't sharing one of the reasons why you wanted this bond in the first place?"

"Yes, but..."

Hermione's lower lip trembled and she looked at him with a haunted expression. He reeled under the onslaught of emotions pouring across the bond, mostly grief and loathing for what she had done during the battle. It was ironic to Harry. He found himself having to console her for the very same things she'd had consoled him for.

"My Heart, it's never easy to take a life, and yes your actions today did result in the death of Death Eaters. But they chose their path, as we've chosen ours. I don't want to make this more difficult for you, but you've made the choice to fight. If you continue to stand by that choice, then you must realize that people will die at your hand. This is war, and death will come with every battle from this point on. If that is unpalatable to you, remember this. Had it not been for your actions, there's a good chance that we would be comforting Ginny as she mourned the loss of her husband."

Her head snapped up and her wide eyes met his. "Are you sure about that?" she asked verbally, her voice indicating both hope and disbelief.

Harry nodded. "I've reviewed the Pensieve memories and helped with the debriefs. Able company came very close to being overrun. It was only a combination of the Angels arriving and the first salvo of rockets that turned the tide. Neville stopped his squad from running in panic, then cast the first Patronus. But when the Dementors swarmed, it was dreadfully close."

Hermione slumped down a little in her chair. "It's not much, but it helps," she whispered.

"I know your actions have caused you pain but, in truth, you were doing what a warrior does. I may be Maglios, but you are my mate, my warrior queen," he sent to her, then he flooded the connection with his feelings for her.

Hermione's eyes popped open in surprise at the depth of some of the emotions she felt. She felt his overwhelming pride at her strength and her courage, compassion and sadness for her pain.

She leaned over his kneeling form and embraced him, pulling his face into her breasts. How did I ever get so lucky? she thought.

"I ask myself that same question every day," he replied in a cheeky tone.

She pulled away and looked at him suspiciously.

He grinned and said, "Sorry, love, but you were thinking very loudly."

Hermione laughed and as she started to pull him closer to embrace him again, a knock sounded at their door. The two exchanged a look, then Harry shrugged and walked over to the door to see who it was. He opened it to find Dan and Emma standing outside, looking very anxious.

"Dan? Emma? Come in. What's wrong?" Harry asked worriedly as Hermione stood up, looking concerned.

Emma smiled reassuringly. "Nothing is wrong, Harry. We just wanted to stop by and see how you two were doing."

"Do you ever think we'll be this perceptive when we're parents, Hermione?"

When Hermione blinked in surprise, then giggled, Dan raised an eyebrow at her. "What did Harry say through that bond thing that has you laughing."

Hermione laughed again. "He asked if we'd be that perceptive when we're parents. I don't think my husband has ever heard about mother's ears."

Harry's lips twitched and he tried to look put out. "If you're done making fun of me? I think we're all right. Hermione had a bit of a rough spot, but we'll see it through together."

Emma walked over and hugged her daughter hard. "You can always talk to us," she whispered.

Hermione's eyes misted up and she nodded at her mother who also grew misty eyed. Dan and Harry exchanged a look that was known the world over to husbands.

Harry was about to invite the Grangers to sit when Luna and Draco showed up at their door. Harry waved them in, and was about to close the door when he stopped in puzzlement. He couldn't help noticing the sad expression Luna wore. Finally, making a decision, he reached under his shirt and pulled out his medallion.

Everyone in the room stopped talking as they realized their medallions were vibrating gently.

"Harry, what are you doing?"

"Calling in the clan, my Heart. I finally realized what's happening. You'll understand in a moment."

"I hate it when you keep secrets!" Her voice even sounded huffy in his mind.

"Patience, wife," he send her.

Slowly the room filled with people and Harry conjured more chairs. Once everyone was seated and looking at him expectantly, he smiled. The only pair missing was Susan and Terry who were off visiting and staying with Amelia for a while.

"I know you're all tired from today. But as Hermione and I sat talking, and then Dan and Emma arrived, followed shortly by Draco and Luna, I realized we all needed to talk.

"I want you all to know, no matter what role you played in today's operation, I, for one, am exceedingly proud of your efforts. Each and every one of you contributed to the success of the mission. But the mission was not without cost. Of all of us in the Brotherhood, only Remus and myself have actually taken a life, until today..."

As Harry spoke Eocho ghosted in through a wall and came to rest standing next to Harry. The ancient druid smiled gently at those in the room.

"I can tell you exactly what the coming days will be like for you. So can Remus. But more to the point, you have a partner who you can turn to. Expect nightmares, anger, guilt, even remorse. Turn to your partner, or to one of your brothers or sisters for help and understanding."

Harry nailed Draco with a piercing gaze. "There is no shame in admitting that you are hurt beyond your visible wounds. Nor is there any shame in turning to your friends and loved ones for help."

Draco looked indignant for a moment and Luna looked sad. While she and his mother had helped heal his arm, he had refused to talk about what he had seen. He had even gone as far as to use his Occlumency to block most of their bond.

"I'm fine Potter," he growled.

"Really? Then why do you look like shit, Malfoy?" Harry snapped angrily.

Draco looked as if he'd been slapped and he glared hatefully at Harry. When he began to stand up, thinking he didn't have to put up with the crap Harry was shoveling, he found himself pinned to his chair by Harry's direct gaze. When the green eyes glaring at him began to glow eerily and he felt the raw power brushing against him, he flinched back inadvertently.

"Grow up, Draco. Look at Luna, for Merlin's sake! I know exactly what you're doing to her and it's killing her! And you have the stones to call me dumb?" Harry paused, then lowered his voice. "Draco, barely a year ago I was a basket case, certifiable and eligible for a one way ticket to the St. Mungos psyche ward. Hermione helped me through all that. I screamed at her, I laughed, I cried. I remember hours where she just held me and let me weep all over her, and I hated myself for doing it, thinking I was too weak to stand alone. But we also talked and I came to realize that, without her help, I wouldn't be here today.

"Other than Neville, you had the roughest go of it by far, but you need to talk to her. You can't push her away and it's only with her help that you'll come out the other side with a full deck."

While Harry spoke, Hermione's eyes glistened with unshed tears and Draco hung his head. Harry could feel a gentle caress from Hermione via their bond and it warmed his heart.

Luna turned to Draco. When she slowly reached out a hand, Harry watched the two carefully. Then Luna's expression changed and her smile was like a sun coming up as Draco dropped his Occlumency shields.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, afraid to look at her.

Luna pulled Draco into a tight embrace and everyone saw his shoulders hitching as he wept silently against her. Luna looked up at Harry, her vibrant blue eyes joyful. "I knew you could help."

Ginny, Hermione, Tonks and Emma all went to the couple, whispering words of comfort to Draco. After a few minutes Draco regained his composure and he sat back in his seat, but he refused to release Luna's hand.

Harry looked over to Neville, "Alright there, Nev?" he asked.

"I'm good, Harry. The Dementors were a touch worrisome, but I think I'll be alright," Neville replied, then he snagged Ginny who was walking back to her seat and pulled her into his lap. Ginny giggled and ruffled his hair lovely.

The room grew quiet, as and everyone seemed lost in their own thoughts.

Hermione walked over to Harry and he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her in close, then he kissed her forehead. "I want everyone to relax tomorrow," Harry told the group gently. "We've done enough for now and I think all of us need to heal from today."

Eocho led the now silent group from the room. Remus, being the last to exit, paused for a moment in the doorway and looked back at the raven haired young man as the couple held hands and walked towards the bed. A gentle smile crossed his lips as he closed the door quietly behind him and leaned against it for a moment. His eyes become unfocused as he sent his thoughts out into the ether. How proud you would be of your son, he thought, thinking of James and Lily. Then, pushing away from the door, he smothered a yawn and trotted down the hallway to catch up with his wife.

Hermione released Harry's hand and began to undress."What you did for Luna and Draco tonight was important," she told him, the tone of her thoughts gently and loving.

Harry ran a hand through his hair. "I know," he replied. "I just hope he doesn't hold that Malfoy crack against me. I needed to shock him before he would listen to me."

He sighed heavily and began to shrug out of his clothes. "I had plans for us tonight, but now I feel totally drained. Would you mind if we just held each other?"

She felt regret, and even a little fear that his admission might hurt her, coming through the bond. She turned, half undressed herself, and smiled at him. "I'd like that very much."


Haven Operations Center...

When the door to his office opened, admitting Caleb Newman, Miles looked up. He waved the other man to the fresh pot of coffee he had on a table in the corner of his office.

Caleb fixed himself a cup, then he collapsed heavily in a chair. "Merlin! I'm about done in," he muttered.

"Oh? Ready to go home to Carolyne and the girls then?"

"No. She knows I'm sleeping here tonight. I called her earlier on the floo and told her I'd be there for breakfast," Caleb replied, then he looked hard at Miles. "You look like shit warmed over, as our Yank friends would say. Why don't you go on home yourself?"

"I'm fine. Just a bit tired."

Caleb snorted in disbelief and Miles immediately changed the subject.

"So tell me about Potter," Miles commanded.

"Potter... He's a brilliant tactician, Miles, first rate. He's also the type of leader that the men would follow even if he led them against the gates of hell itself."

"Why do I hear a 'but' in there somewhere?" growled Miles.

Caleb shook his head. "No, not really. The kid's good and he's learning to lead. He held that line as long as he could, then he pulled his people out, made sure the wounded got out and took the steps to contain the problem. I've just never seen anyone with the power he has. He blew up a third of the island! Everything north of our line to the boat docks was gone. I admit his method was a bit unusual, but it got the job done."

"Did he explain why he blew up the northern part of the island?"

Caleb nodded grimly. "His tactical situation wasn't good. I had given him two squads, but he was up against a numerically superior force. Granted, it wasn't overwhelmingly superior, but it was enough to make a difference. He lost ten men in quick succession and suddenly found that the odds were increasingly against him. So he pulled back the line, bringing his wounded and dead with him, then he decided to take action himself. Up until that point he hadn't been fighting much, just leading as he should. He used a standard explosive spell, 'The Hammer of God'. But when cast at his power level?" Caleb shook his head. "To be truthful, I'm not sure even he was aware it would cause the kind of damage it did.

"It was incredible, Miles," Caleb continued, his eyes becoming unfocused, as if viewing the scene all over again. "He hit the ground with his staff and there was a brief moment of shocked silence. Then everything started to explode. I had enough time to shout for everyone to get undercover and get shielded and then it started." He focused once more on Miles. "I'll never forget it, nor doubt Harry's strength."

Miles relaxed a bit in his chair and nodded. The same spell had been used earlier in the month against Terry Boot and his wife in that Paris hotel. It was a powerful spell and the stronger the caster, the more damage it caused. In Paris, the spell had blown a three foot hole in the floor and ceiling.

Miles had been worried that Caleb might have had some complaint about Harry. "What about strategy? You say he's right on with tactics, but what about strategy?"

Caleb grimaced and looked down for a moment. "I don't think it's fair to ask that right now. Sure, Harry came up with the operational idea and you roughed it out into a usable operation. But there were twenty other people planning on this, and you know we made some big blunders out there. We got lucky."

Miles frowned thoughtfully, "Yes, we did make some mistakes. It never occurred to me that they may do large guard swap outs like that. And, of course, we underestimated the number of Dementors, but the house elves could only report on what they saw at any given time. I don't think a man on the ground would have been able to do any better." He tilted his chair back then and sighed. "I'm glad to hear about Potter..."

Miles stopped talking when his door opened again and an aide to Minister Bones stepped in to hand him a parchment.

"Thank you," he muttered, absently taking the parchment and scanning it quickly. He waited until the aide had left before looking at Caleb.

"I just got the numbers, if you're interested."

Caleb straightened in his chair and nodded, watching his boss.

"Of prisoners, four hundred and forty two saved. Sixty three were killed during the breakout attempt. Mind you, that's just a guess since we didn't bring those bodies home with us... The Death Eaters didn't seem to care if they killed prisoners or not. Of the assault forces, we have a total of twenty four dead, including five who were kissed from Able company, and fifty four injured. Six are listed as being in grave condition. Of the prisoners, one hundred have been sent to other hospitals, most notably St. Patrick's in Dublin and Our Lady of Mercy in Cork.

"According to this, the Haven house elves have been working like crazy to erect buildings behind the hospital to house the wounded prisoners. All of our field healers and medics have been pressed into service..."

There was a moment of silence, which Caleb broke. "Well, it looks like we're out of business, at least for the short term. I'll pass the word along to the boys that we're going to stand down on the training for a couple days. I wouldn't risk any missions without a healer or medic along."

Miles grunted. "Might not be a bad idea. Let them relax and blow off some steam."

Silence descended on the office again as each man contemplated the numbers and winced over the cost. It had been a victory, of that there was no doubt. But like so many victories, this one had had a price and they'd paid that price in blood.

As the sky grew dark, house elves worked tirelessly to set up housing for the influx of three hundred and forty two new people, while unit chaplains made their rounds, consoling those who had suffered losses. Even those who had come through unharmed discovered that no one came through unscathed, and Haven fell into an uneasy sleep that night.


Padfoot Manor (August 26th)...

Harry awoke to find the sun high in the sky. In a rare moment of peace he had slept late. And from the arm draped around him, he hadn't been the only one to sleep in this morning. Hermione was spooned up behind him, her hand covering his heart. He stretched and winced from the pain in his leg. They never did get around to doing anything about it last night.

"Good morning," came a very sleepy sounding thought.

"I'm sorry, did I wake you?"

"No, I've been dozing, waiting for you to wake up. I wanted to ask you something."

"Hmmm?" Harry had trouble concentrating, Hermione was kissing her way across his shoulders, making it difficult for him to think properly.

"How did you do it?"

"Do what?"

"You changed my dream last night. I was having a nightmare and suddenly it stopped and I was in your dream."

"Oh, that..."

Harry chuckled as Hermione growled, then bit him lightly on his shoulder.

"Yes that! I want to know how you did it."

Harry shrugged and started to sit up. "Honestly, I'm not sure. At one point I could feel your nightmare, so I reached for you..."

Hermione shook her head in annoyance because he couldn't explain it, and because he was pulling away from her. All she remembered of the dream was a vague image of a picnic, with Harry and herself surrounded by several small children, all of which resembled them both. It had been wonderful.

"Why are you pulling away?"

"I'd love to stay, my Heart. You know that. But I'm late already. I should have been up hours ago. By now I'll have to break everyone's routine to have the morning briefing."

She frowned. "But you told everyone to take it easy today, to take the day off!"

He winced at the shout that echoed in his head. "Alright, you twisted my arm," he said aloud, his lips twitching with humor and he climbed back into the bed.


The Weasley Cottage, Haven...

Fred and George barreled down the stairs and got stuck in the doorway to the kitchen. Arthur sat at the table sipping his tea and wondering if his sons would ever grow up. Finally, George wrenched himself free and slid into a chair at the table, Fred only a second behind him. Immediately, the two started to fill up their plates while Arthur watched in amusement.

"I'm surprised you two aren't helping the healers with the brewing," Arthur murmured.

Fred looked up from his plate. "Oh, no, Dad. Helga and Inga are helping brew the potions, but I think they were afraid to ask us."

"Quite," offered George.

"You mean to say your muggle girlfriends are making potions?" asked Arthur incredulously.

"They are turning into right good potion makers, Dad," offered George

"Doesn't take magic to make a potion. The magic is in the ingredients," quipped Fred.

Arthur folded the newspaper that Bertrand Lovegood was putting out for the Ministry and he looked at his two sons. "Boys, I know times have changed and things have become... ah... looser. But I've been meaning to speak to you about those two young women."

Fred and George exchanged a glance between them.

"George, me bucko, I do believe we're about to get 'the talk' again."

"Are you sure? It could be the 'Don't get caught with your girlfriend naked in my house' lecture," George replied.

"Or perhaps the 'don't mess with little sister' lecture..."

"Although, in truth, we haven't since her honeymoon."

"Her revenge, however, was classic."

"Who would have believed our little Gin-Gin could be so ruthless?"

"Enough!" bellowed Arthur. Both twins blinked and realized that their father had reached his limit.

Arthur took a few deep breaths to get himself under control. "Boys, I've put off talking about this with you for too long. You two have grown up into smart men who are taking an active role in our war. Miles informs me that despite his initial resistance to the idea of having you two help, your inventions have saved lives and made it safer for our fighters. I wanted to tell you both how proud of you I am. But...

Arthur paused and his expression grew very serious. "Your mother and I did not raise you two to be sleeping with your girlfriends under our own roof. I'm not going to make too much of a fuss about it because we are in a war. Normality, wherever it can be found, should be grasped with both hands and held tight. Merlin! Do you honestly think I would have let your sister marry at sixteen if these were normal times?"

He ran a hand through his thinning hair. "Reach for your normality boys, but don't toy with the feelings of others while you're at it. If you feel anything for these girls, then do something about it."

Fred and George exchanged a look. "Dad, if it's any consolation to you, both George and myself are serious about Helga and Inga. Life would be so much easier if we weren't at war, but then if there was no war, we never would have met the Johansens..." Fred said, trailing off and shrugging a bit helplessly.

"Kinda weird that way," added George. "But Fred's right, Dad. We'll do something about the girls soon, I think. You can't really ask a girl to marry you when you've only known her since April."

"Oh, no. We need at least another month," Fred said with a grin.

Arthur nodded, grateful that the conversation hadn't been as much as a problem as it might have been. He also realized that the twins had only known the girls for a few months. He didn't want to push them, but finding that his sons were sleeping with them had made him bring it up. The conversation turned to lighter topics after that. The boys, like so many others, were planning on taking it easy today and mentioned that they were thinking about taking the girls on a picnic after they made a stop at their lab to check on some ongoing experiments.

Arthur bid his sons a good day and watched with suppressed laughter as his boys walked out of the house, never noticing that the seats of their pants had been banished while they ate breakfast. Now, if only I can figure out a way to blame it on Bill, Charlie or Ginny, Arthur thought with a chuckle. And they call themselves pranksters.


Melinda McKinney's Cottage (Noon)...

Melinda stood at her kitchen window, listening the children play next door. The sound of their laughter was a soothing balm to her spirit, helping to ease away the memory of the painful pleas and screaming from last night.

After tending to Terry at the Minister's residence and helping with his therapy, she'd been called to the hospital to help with the incoming patients from Azkaban. Hospital personnel had been overwhelmed for awhile, but relief healers had finally arrived from several Irish hospitals, allowing the exhausted staff of Haven Hospital to go home and rest.

She'd slept for twelve hours straight, and woke up groggy and muzzle headed. Thinking tea would help, she had wandered into the kitchen with the vague idea of brewing herself a cup, but had become distracted by the kids next door.

Shaking her head, she looked around the kitchen for a moment, thinking. Tea required hot water, and it wasn't going to heat itself, now was it? With a sigh, she reached for the teapot, and nearly screamed the house down when a small house elf popped into view beside her stove.

The rather small, young looking elf pulled her ears down to try to block out the noise and stamped her foot in vexation. "Miss shouldn't be screaming like that! Dilly is here to help, she is. Miss is tired and should be resting."

Melinda could only gape at the creature before her. She'd never had a house elf in her service, and wasn't sure what to do with one. When the elf only stared at her, she smiled tentatively. "I was going to make a pot of tea. I thought it might help wake me up," she explained rather lamely.

"Dilly will make you tea, Miss. And breakfast, Dilly thinks. I do be knowing that Miss has been working very hard at the hospital and that Miss is tired. Sit, and Dilly will take care of you."

"Thank you... Dilly, isn't it?" When the elf nodded, Melinda smiled a little easier and sat down at the kitchen table. "You'll have to forgive me, Dilly. I've never had a house elf, and I don't know much about your duties or..." She shrugged a bit helplessly.

"Not to be worrying, Miss," Dilly told her as she bustled about the kitchen. "Since Dobby told us that the great Harry Potter would welcome our service in Haven, we be meeting many like you. I did not be knowing that so many witches and wizards had never bonded a house elf."

"So you are bound to Lord Potter's service?" Melinda asked as the elf placed a full teacup before her.

"Oh, no, Miss. Dilly is bound to Haven, she is," Dilly said as she pulled out a frying pan, eyed Melinda carefully, then went to the refrigerator. "Dilly has only ever been bonded to one family, but they be killed by the evil ones and Dilly had no where to go. Then word did come of Dobby and of Haven, and here I be."

Watching Dilly crack eggs into a bowl, Melinda leaned back in her chair and sipped tea, her mind racing. "Is the bond you now have to Haven different than the one you had with your family?"

"Yes, Miss. It is more... There be less structure to the bond now. It is not so.. Tight? Yes, that does work. In Haven, Dilly can serve where she is needed and where she wishes. With a family, Dilly would serve as she is commanded to by her Master or Mistress."

"Which do you prefer?" Melinda asked, curious.

"Dilly does not prefer one or the other, Miss. The bond just is. At times, Dilly does like that she can pick what she can do or who she will serve. But Dilly does also miss having a family."

"The bond you have now didn't compel you to my home to serve me, did it, Dilly?" Melinda asked suddenly, feeling a bit sick.

Dilly laughed, the sound almost musical. "Oh, no, Miss. Dilly be working in the hospital when the hurt people were brought in and she did watch Miss. Dilly knows, as all house elves learn to be knowing, when someone be having a good and kind heart. When Miss left the hospital, Dilly did be seeing that Miss was very tired and told other elves that she would care for Miss," she said, placing a plate of scrambled eggs and toast on the table in front of Melinda.

Melinda felt her eyes grow moist, and placed a hand on Dilly's shoulder. "I don't know how to thank you, Dilly."

"Oh, no, don't cry, Miss! If Miss cries, Dilly do be crying, too," came the rather wet reply as Dilly's large, green eyes welled with tears. "Eat now, Miss. You be feeling better, after."

Melinda shook head and laughed. Turning to her plate, she realized how hungry she was. "We make an interesting pair, Dilly," she said, wiping away her tears and shrugging them off as result of exhaustion. When she picked up her fork and began to eat, she missed the light that danced in Dilly's eyes.

A half hour later, she sat back and sipped her tea as Dilly finished cleaning the kitchen and putting away the dishes from breakfast. When a knock came at the door, Dilly spun around and smiled.

"No, Miss," she said as Melinda started to stand. "You be sitting while Dilly does answer the door."

With a smile, Melinda watched the small elf all but run from the kitchen. She liked Dilly, but still felt a bit uncomfortable being served in her own home. She didn't understand enough about house elves or their bonds to know if Dilly was helping her out of duty, or because she wanted to.

"Miss does be having a visitor," Dilly announced as she trotted into the kitchen, a tall man behind her. "Mr. Minister does say that he wishes to speak to Miss."

Melinda smiled. "Good morning, Arthur."

"Hello. I do hope I'm not interrupting anything," he said, watching the elf as she filled another cup with tea and placed it on the table for him.

"No, of course not," Melinda told him, waving him into the chair across from hers. "I was still tired when I woke up, and Dilly came to help me this morning." She smiled at the elf.

"Dilly will be leaving Miss and Mr. Minister to their talking," she said as she placed the pot of tea on the table and beamed at them. "If Miss does be needing Dilly again, Miss has only to call and Dilly will come."

The elf vanished before Melinda could thank her.

"Well, that was interesting," she told Arthur. At his curious look, she shrugged. "I've never had a house elf before, so I don't know a lot about them."

"She seemed rather young," he mused.

"I don't understand."

He shook his head. "Most don't, but before we arrived in Ireland, Remus spoke with Dobby on several occasions about his species and the bond they have with human, magical families. Oh, you did meet Dobby at the manor, didn't you?"

Melinda smiled, remembering the little creature. "I did, yes."

"Dobby is different than most elves, in that he chooses to remain free. The only bond he shares with Harry is one of friendship and loyalty. Harry pays him a wage for the work he does. The other elves were appalled by such behavior on the part of house elf, but they learned to accept it. They later learned to trust him when he passed on Harry's offer of safety.

"But as I was saying, Remus spoke to Dobby, in the hopes of better understanding the creatures, and learned that elves are born seeking the bond. They need it, you see, to survive. Most elves who remain unbound for too long go insane and die.

"Due to the drive to bond, older elves are set to teach and guide young ones, to keep them from bonding with just anyone. No elf wants to bond to a cruel or heartless family, but the need to bond sometimes overshadows caution. A young elf is brought into a household and taught what they need to know to serve a family. In time, that young elf will bond with humans, usually the family of the household they've been learning in."

"Dilly said she had been bound to a family, but that they were killed before she came to Haven," Melinda told him.

"It must have been a recent bounding." When she looked at him questioningly, he sighed. "As I said, she seems young."

"I like her, though I do find it a bit discomforting to be served in my own home," she said with a laugh.

"If Dilly's taken a liking to you, you may have to get used to it," Arthur said wryly. "Unless you don't want her help, of course. Then you need only tell her, and she won't bother you."

"Would that hurt her?" Melinda asked, a bit alarmed.

"Emotionally, yes, probably. But she is bound to Haven, so there is no risk of death in her case."

"Oh, I don't want to hurt her. She's very helpful and I enjoyed talking with her."

"Talking with her?" Arthur laughed. "I think Dobby has had a wider range of influence than we thought."

"Meaning?"

"As I said, Dobby is different. A house elf rarely speaks to humans, even to the members of the family they're bound to. Dobby, while still being cautious, tends to speak his mind to anyone."

"Well, Dilly's good at giving orders, politely, of course. She just sort of took over at breakfast, telling me to sit, to eat, that she would answer the door," Melinda told him, smiling at the memory.

"Hermione will be pleased to hear it. She's been hoping the elves would find their place and take a more aggressive roll in their bonding."

"Oh, Dilly isn't bound to me," Melinda said, surprised. "She said she was just here to help me this morning."

"Mmm," Arthur replied, noncommittally.

Melinda refilled her cup with tea, then raised the pot and looked at him questioningly. At his nod, she refilled his cup and set the pot down.

"So, what brings you by this morning?" she asked.

"Ginny, actually," he told her. "She said you'd had some questions about Eocho and she wasn't sure if she'd been able to answer them all."

Her face hardened. "Ginny explained what he is and why he's at the manor," she said flatly.

Arthur arched an eyebrow. "From your tone, she must not have done a very good job of it."

"I think I got the highlights. He's some sort of guardian spirit from an ancient Druid culture, brought back to help with the fight against evil. And why does that sound like a muggle comic book?" she asked, her brow furrowed.

When he only stared at her in confusion, she shook her head. "Never mind. The point is, I know as much as I need to know. I'm not part of this Brotherhood they've resurrected, nor do I want to be. My problem is simple. When I'm treating a patient, or trying to, I don't usually have to deal with some ancient dead guy telling me that I can't do my job!"

"Can't do your job?" he asked, puzzled for a moment. "Oh, you mean what happened with Harry and Hermione?"

"Yes! She was in pain, Arthur. A lot of pain. I'm a healer, yet I was expected to turn my back and pretend that young woman wasn't suffering. And don't think I didn't see the anger on the face of that, that..." She paused, drew a breath, and continued more calmly. "I saw Eocho's face. He was angry and seemed to want her to suffer."

"Maybe he did." When he saw the loathing in her eyes, he held up a hand. "Wait a moment and let me explain. When the Brotherhood was resurrected, they agreed to certain rules, Melinda. In exchange for ancient knowledge and power, they agreed to use their new gifts only in certain ways. What Hermione did that night crossed a line. She used something Eocho taught her for her own gain. Had Harry not been who he is, they both would have died. For you to have interfered with what was happening between them could have killed all three of you. Even with Harry's skill, a third person blundering around in the link might have been too much.

"Eocho comes from an ancient society where the breaking of what we consider minor rules came with deadly consequences. He understands that our rules are different than his and has learned to adjust in most things. But he is the guardian of the Brotherhood and their knowledge. He has a lot of respect for Hermione. Not just because she is Harry's mate...his wife, but for her intelligence as well. He has worked with her extensively and thought of her as his brightest student. Then to find her doing something so risky, something so potentially deadly? What she did would have warranted a death sentence in his time.

"And it wasn't just the risk to herself, Melinda. She could have killed Harry, the Maglios of the Brotherhood." Seeing the question in her eyes, he explained. "My ancient Celtic is rusty, but translated, the Maglios means the warrior king or warrior priest. Eocho made Harry the leader of the resurrected Brotherhood because of his power and his destiny. To put it simply, without Harry, Voldemort wins it all. If Harry dies, our world falls to the flames. Is it any wonder that Eocho was so angry?"

When Melinda scowled and said nothing, he sighed. "Maybe I didn't explain it right," he muttered, running a hand through his hair.

"You explained it fine and you know it," she said, crossly.

"Then why are you scowling at me?"

"Because now I feel like I should be apologizing to some spirit for thinking ill of the dead. I mean, this is too much, Arthur. I brought the children here so they could be safe and found a place for myself at the hospital. Don't get me wrong. I'm thankful for everything I've been given. But then I find that a group of people have resurrected a long dead Druid culture in order to defeat Voldemort, that the person responsible for all of this is a young man with some sort of cosmic destiny and that he married a young woman who could have killed him with the knowledge that some old, dead guy taught her. What do you expect me to do? Serve you more tea and comment on the weather?"

"Obviously you're having problems accepting all this," he said placatingly.

"Honestly, Arthur, who wouldn't?" she asked in frustration. "You've had a lot more time to come to grips with all this. I've had minutes!"

"Melinda, calm down. Why is this such a problem for you?" When her left eye began to twitch, he pushed on quickly. "All right, I understand that this came at you rather suddenly. But let me ask you this. You've seen the Angels around Haven. What do you think of them?"

"The Angels? They're lovely creatures, but what do they have to do with this?"

"You have trouble accepting everything I've told you, but you have no problem with Luna creating the Angels to help fight off the Dementors?" he asked, bewildered.

Melinda gapped at him. "Created! What? But how.... Why would... No, don't tell me." She leaned back on her chair and massaged her temples. "And this day started out so well, too. A lovely breakfast, a pleasant chat with a house elf. Where did it go wrong?" she muttered.

"I could answer you, but I'm afraid you'd dump tea over my head," Arthur said gently. "Look, I know this is all confusing for you, but it doesn't have to be. All you have to remember is that everything that's been done is for the good of us all. With the Brotherhood now active, we have a real chance of seeing Voldemort's defeat, and you can't tell me you don't want that."

"No," she said, sighing, "I can't tell you that. I'm sorry for my outburst. I shouldn't have spoken to you like that."

"You were surprised and your reaction's understandable. It's a lot of information to take in all at once. You don't know Harry very well, but please believe me when I tell you he would never have resurrected the Brotherhood if he'd thought it would pose a danger to those he's trying to protect."

"It's true, I don't know Lord Potter very well. I've only spoken to him on a few occasions. But a young man who can conceive of, and then build, someplace like this," she said, waving a hand towards the window and all that lay beyond, "is someone who engenders trust in others. It's just a bit overwhelming to take in all at once."

Arthur's smile was understanding. "Do you have any other questions?" he asked as he refilled their cups with tea.

"No, I think that answers about everything, thank Merlin. I'm not sure if I can handle any more shocks today," she told him with a laugh.

"Well then, I have a question of my own," he said, his eyes bright.

"Oh?"

"Yes. Would you have dinner with me tonight? A new Greek restaurant opened near Gringotts and I thought we could try it."

She blinked in surprise, then smiled warmly. "That would be lovely, thank you."


Azkaban Island...

The small boat motored closer to the island and Archibald Ives frowned. He had served several tours of guard duty and was now in charge of the processing center for the prison. Prisoners arrived at his center on the coast of Wales and were processed before being sent over to the island.

When the duty shift boats hadn't returned yesterday, he hadn't thought much of it. Archibald didn't get out much and thought that perhaps they had been delayed by weather, a common occurrence. But now the boats were more than twenty-four hours overdue. Worriedly, he'd sent word up the line to his supervisor. It hadn't taken long for him to get word back that he was to visit the island and see what was keeping the boats.

Ives' eyes narrowed seeing the island up close. The boat docks were missing and roughly one third of the island was now under water. The Holding Center to the north of the fortress seemed deserted and parts of the center were still smoking. Barely three-hundred feet to the north of the holding center, the island ended abruptly with what looked like a ten foot drop into the Irish Sea.

With no place to dock the boat, they drifted in closer, knowing full well that the rocky shoals surrounding the island would rip the boat to pieces if they weren't careful. After a nerve wracking twenty minutes, they were able to make landing along the western shore near the Holding Center. Ives quickly ordered the eight men he had with him to split up and investigate the island, while he headed for the fortress.

Three hours later, a nondescript owl flew from one of the fortress towers, heading for Scotland. Down in the central courtyard, Ives was still interrogating the surviving members of the guard force. Their screams could be heard all over the island.


Ministry building, Haven...

Despite it being early afternoon, the building was practically deserted. A large number of Ministry personnel had turned out last night to help at the hospital or at the community kitchen. Amelia had sent word that the Ministry would consider today a holiday, therefore only a skeleton staff of people were left in the building.

One department in particular, the mail department, had only one person staffing the room. Letting most of the staff take the day off had been a mistake, the lone clerk had thought when the announcement was made. But he thought it better to keep that to himself. A simple clerk did not tell the Minster for Magic what to do, after all.

He quickly came to regret that decision, however. The department handled all official owl mail for Haven and the clerk quickly found himself nearly overwhelmed with the sheer bulk of incoming mail. He barely had enough time to remove letters from incoming owls and toss them into a pile before turning to the next owl. As it was, he never noticed that one letter slipped off the pile and fell behind the table. That letter wouldn't be found for several days.


Padfoot Manor...

Harry and Hermione walked into the dining room holding hands. Both were surprised to see that so many of their friend had also gotten off to a late start.

"Everyone alright?" Harry asked.

Draco scowled and stared down at his cup, then Luna nudged him in the side. He glanced up at her and blushed. "Harry, about last night..."

Harry waved him silent. "Draco, it's a new experience for you. I said a few things to you last night that I'm not proud of, and I regret saying them. But I needed to get through to you before you made a bigger mistake than you were making."

Draco looked thoughtful, then he nodded, grinning slightly.

Remus tapped on a glass catching everyone's attention. "Ladies and Gentlemen... and you too Harry..."

Harry scowled at Remus and tossed his roll at him.

Remus ducked, then continued. "Since we're taking the day off, I've asked the elves to serve us a dinner outside tonight around the pool."

"That's a wonderful idea, Remus. I think I can transfigure us a BBQ grill," Dan exclaimed.

Both Hermione and Emma winced. Dan's transfigurations were not very good. The last time he tried a transfiguration, he created a set of hostile lawn chairs that bit people. It took thirty elves two days to track down and kill the pernicious lawn furniture.

Harry was laughing with everyone else at Dan's attempt to explain his last transfiguration when an elf appeared next to him with a small parchment. He accepted the parchment and scanned it briefly, then he nodded to the elf, who snapped off a perfect salute before vanishing again.

Sensing his change in mood, Hermione turned her attention to him. "Harry, what's wrong?"

He rolled up the parchment and smiled weakly at her. "It's nothing. Just the casualty figures from yesterday. Miles wants to talk about them, but figures it can wait a few days."

Around them, everyone fell silent. Harry shook himself and tried to brighten the mood. "So, a BBQ, Dan? Sounds like it could be interesting, if you can convince the elves not to cook, that is."

Dan's eyebrows knitted as he pondered the problem. He'd figure out a way, even if someone else would have to transfigure the grill for him.


Irish Ministry, Office of the Minister...

Brogan Mallory sat back in his chair and smiled. He had been aware of the British Ministry's intent to attack the island prison, but he hadn't been informed of all the details. When he'd received his copy of the paper, he had been pleasantly surprised to see the Dublin Daily's headline.

Over Four Hundred Rescued!
Daring Early Morning Raid on You-Know-Who's prison!

According to a communique released by the British Ministry of Magic in Exile, allied forces, consisting of British, American, Canadian and Irish Aurors, assaulted the island prison of Azkaban and effectively rescued over four hundred prisoners. British Ministry officials released photos taken both during the assault and during the rescue, which occurred after the assault succeeded.

The attack began at dawn when nearly four hundred and fifty trained fighters arrived via portkey and by sea. The attack centered upon the northern holding facility, rather than island's fortress. One British Ministry official, who insisted to remain anonymous, said,"The northern holding pens held more prisoners than the fortress itself. We opted to attack them because they were more vulnerable."

Rumors have the attackers using a mix of muggle military technology and magic to attack the prison. There is also an unconfirmed rumor that the newly discovered species of Irish Angels were somehow used in the fight. Some experts suggest the Irish Angels might have provided a diversion, while others think the Angels might have some sort of banshee quality about them.

According to our own sources, over one hundred of the rescued, some of the worst cases, have been moved to Irish hospitals. A spokesman for St. Patrick's said that a lot of the cases they received are currently in guarded condition, suffering from malnutrition, exposure to the elements as well as to painful curses like the Cruciatus curse. Long term prognosis is good for many of these patients, but they aren't out of the woods just yet.

Another source revealed that Harry Potter was personally involved in this attack, leading an elite group of trained wizards and witches called 'The Brotherhood'. Little is known about this group, other than they did participate in the assault and they have been training with the fighters belonging to the alliance against You-Know-Who.

The attack against You-Know-Who's prison came as a major shock to the magical world. Magical Governments all over the globe are waking up to the news and, for the first time, people are wondering if You-Know-Who is as invincible as he claims to be. Statements from the Alliance Ministries have all expressed pride in what their people accomplished and sorrow over those who were lost in the attack. The British Ministry acknowledges losses and injuries among it's forces, but refused to release any detailed information pending notification of relatives.

Harry Potter, The New Leader of the Light? Page 2.
Where is Albus Dumbledore? Page 7.
Did Potter Marry? Honeymoon Rumors, Society Column. Page 8a.

Mallory leaned back and grinned to himself. The successful operation couldn't have come at a better time, and he could use it to his advantage. Mallory knew his position and popularity with the public was at an all time high, but a public relations coup like this only happened once in a great while.

He pressed a button on his desk and waited for his secretary. The door opened and a middle aged woman entered.

"Marge! Sit down, please. I want to dictate a letter to Minister Bones, as well as a few press releases," he said, relishing the feeling. To a politician, this was meat and potatoes. Perhaps he could even arrange a joint press conference that included Harry Potter!


Padfoot Manor, (Evening of August 26th)...

Harry sat on a lounger watching some of his friends, while Dan tried to explain to Remus the fine art of Barbecuing. Surprisingly, Remus seemed to be enjoying Dan's mini-lecture and was avidly sampling the different foods Dan was cooking. Harry shook his head, amused at the two, but even he had to admit that the food had been excellent.

Hermione sat at one of the tables with her mother, Narcissa, Susan and Terry, while Ginny, Neville and Draco enjoyed the pool. Luna walked around the area, just outside the tree line, hanging objects from the tree branches.

Fred, George and their girlfriends took up another table and Harry eyed them with worry when the noise level suddenly dropped at their table. What had started as a simple, relaxing BBQ among friends, was turning into a major party in the making. The twins had arrived at the manor house with their girlfriends and their father and they'd brought a good supply of fire whiskey. The girls, Helga and Inga, brought along a pan of fresh strudel from Olga Johansen.

At seeing such a large supply of the strudel, Hermione had sighed and turned back to talk to her mother and Narcissa. She didn't want to think about her most recent cooking disaster. The last time she'd made an attempt at cooking, several house elves had laughed at her.

Harry's eyes slowly drifted closed and he felt himself starting to doze when a hand gently shook him awake. He opened one eye to see Luna looking down at him.

"Can I get your help?" she asked him, smiling.

Harry nodded and stood up. He was surprised when she handed him his tin whistle. Taking the instrument, he looked at her inquisitively.

"I'm not quite ready yet, but I'll let you know when I am," she replied to his unspoken question. Then she patted him on the cheek and walked off.

Shrugging, Harry walked over to Hermione's table and sat down. She looked at the instrument in his hand and arched an eyebrow at him.

"Are you going to play something for us?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

"What do you mean, you don't know?"

"Luna," he replied silently.

Hermione blinked and started to giggle. "Does anyone know what Luna is up to?" she asked out loud. "She just handed Harry his tin whistle and walked away."

Narcissa looked over at her daughter in-law, who was walking the tree line, occasionally adjusting something hanging from the branches.

"I don't know. I'm not sure even Draco knows what she's doing. She said something about unique entertainment tonight," Narcissa replied thoughtfully. Although she dearly loved her daughter-in-law, the girl's unusual way of seeing the world confused even her at times.

"Well, it's starting to get dark out. I hope she finishes so, otherwise we'll need to light some torches," Emma said.

Harry placed his tin whistle on the table in front of him and helped himself to some food off Hermione's plate.

She gave him a mock growl, then nodded towards his instrument. "You don't play that often enough."

Harry looked at the instrument and sighed. "I know. The only real free time I get is on my early morning walks, or an hour or two before bed when I'm usually doing my Tai Chi. Sometimes on my morning walks I bring it along and play for the squirrels. They like it."

"You should make the time if you can, Harry," offered Emma. "I haven't heard you play since last summer, but I've heard that music box you had made for Hermione and that song is wonderful."

Narcissa eyed Harry with interest. This was a skill she never heard about before. "I'm surprised, Harry. I didn't know you had that kind of talent. Perhaps you can play something for us tonight?"

Harry glanced over at Narcissa, then he spotted Luna approaching. "I think that's exactly what Luna has in mind," he said nervously.

Luna stopped near the edge of the pool and waved to Harry.

"Harry," she said breathlessly as he approached her, "I want to try an experiment. Will you help me?"

"You're not planning on draining me dry again, are you," he asked suspiciously.

Luna laughed. "Oh, no, nothing like that. Besides, that's Hermione's job, not mine." Her smile was wicked.

Harry blinked in shock and blushed at her attempt at humor. Luna conjured a stool, then she looked at the nearly dark sky. Around them, everyone fell silent, watching and wondering what Luna was up to.

Luna steered him over to the stool and pushed him onto it, making sure he was facing the others. "I want you to play something, Harry. Play something on your flute."

Harry lifted his tin whistle to his mouth, then he looked at Luna. "It's called a Tin Whistle."

"You can call it that if you want," she told him, waving her hand to dismiss something she felt unimportant. "Just play."

"What do you want me to play?" he asked.

"Anything," she said dreamily then she tapped his tin whistle with her wand and muttered something under her breath.

Harry looked at her for a moment, at a loss as to what he should play. Luna walked back to the tables to join the others, who sat watching him. He was decidedly uncomfortable. Feeling a bit foolish, he glanced down at himself to make sure he was wearing clothing. With a shake of his head, he realized he wasn't in some sort of strange dream, and wasn't sure if he was thankful for that or not.

"Go on, Harry. Play something," Luna called out after taking a seat between Narcissa and Draco.

Hermione could feel his discomfort and nervousness through their link, so she sent him a quick mental caress. His gaze locked with hers for a moment, and then he began to play 'Harry's Life' for her.

Behind him in the tree line, brightly colored glowing bubbles appeared and floated out over the pool, drifting in the wind. As Harry played, the bubbles changed color in time with his music. Each bubble lasted only a short while before it finally faded, but another was always ready to replace it.

Harry's audience sat entranced by the music driven light show. Hermione recognized the melody and she found her eyes filled with tears, remembering the day not so long ago when he gave her the music box in the Room of Requirement. She considered it to be one of the most romantic moments of her life.

When Harry finished that song, he played another, this one more lively. Ginny grabbed Neville's hand and dragged him out near where Harry was sitting to dance under Luna's strangely glowing bubbles. A moment later, Draco and Luna joined them.

Harry, who had lost himself in the music, opened his eyes and looked on, astonished that anyone would want to dance to his music.

He completed his song and switched over to a slow Scottish ballad and more couples left their tables to dance. Hermione left her table and came to sit on the ground next to him. He looked down at her and tried to shrug an apology that he couldn't dance with her. She reached up and rubbed his leg in understanding. He played song after song for his friends and family. He felt the music come alive around him as it wrapped around his friends. The light bubbles floated above them and illuminated the dancers below in a magical glow.

When Harry finished the song he was playing, he looked up to find Luna signaling him to stop. When she pulled out a small Wizarding Wireless and started it up, he smiled at her gratefully. He had played for Hermione before and occasionally in front of others but never had he played for so long and he found that it was a relief to stop. He hopped off the stool and helped Hermione to her feet, then led her back to the table where her parents sat. The others remained behind, content to dance to the music now playing under the star filled sky.

"You're much better than you think, Harry," Narcissa told him.

He ducked his head and mumbled something in reply. Overhead, Luna's light bubbles continued to sparkle and change colors to the music.

Hermione squeezed Harry's arm and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "It's just something I learned that helps relax me. I probably would have never learned it at all except that Hermione found a book about it. Hagrid gave me the tin whistle, It used to belong to Sirius," he replied. Then he looked a bit shocked. He had been able to mention Sirius without the normal, painful lump forming in his chest.

"We all miss him in our own way, Harry," Narcissa said in a gentle tone. "For myself, I regret never being able to make my peace with him. That will have to wait until we meet again."

Harry looked down at his tin whistle for a moment, then he looked up and smiled softly. "I know what you mean. I wish I could have told him what I felt for him. But he's never truly gone," Harry said, then he rubbed his arm where the Padfoot tattoo was.

Hermione leaned in close to him and used their bond to send him comforting feelings. He smiled at her, then looked at Luna's light bubbles.

His eyebrows knitted together for a moment, then he released Hermione and stood up. He walked over to the tree line and looked at one of the devices Luna had hung on a branch. He watched, entranced, as the multiple sheets of metal banged together, producing another light bubble. Reaching up, he carefully pulled the hanging device from the tree and brought it back to the table where the others sat.

Laying the device on the table in front of Hermione, he cast a light orb and told her to look at it. Luna and Draco joined them and took seats next to Narcissa. Both watched Hermione carefully, although Luna seemed a little upset that Harry had taken down one of her devices.

"What do you see, Hermione?" asked Harry after she had a moment to study the device.

"It's a wind chime, I think, made up of the same runes we used for the rune stones. But I don't recognize the runes along the top of the piece," she replied hesitantly.

"No, you wouldn't. In school we learned English, Scottish and Welsh runes. The Brotherhood uses Celtic runes. Those are Nordic runes," Harry said, then he looked over at Luna. "Somehow Luna has combined runes from different cultures," he concluded.

Luna glance over at the pair. "Of course I combined them. Nordic runes specialize in triggering conditions, while Celtic runes deal more with effects and powers. Nordic runes are so limiting in what capabilities they have, but they seemed to take triggering of the spell to an art form."

Harry held up a hand and Luna stopped speaking. She watched him carefully as he stared down at her wind chime, his brow furrowed in concentration.

"Harry?" asked Hermione. Something was bubbling over from their bond that she had never experienced before and it confused and alarmed her.

"Hush, Hermione, give him a moment," Luna said.

Harry looked up from the wind chime with a look of wonder. "What if we pre-made the Brotherhood rune stones so they were in the correct configuration already, but we used a Nordic rune to trigger them? Wouldn't that result in a rune set someone could pull from a pouch and use right away? Without even needing a wand? Something triggered by a word or phrase?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed and she stared at Harry in surprise. "How do you know about Nordic Runes?" she demanded.

Harry rolled his eyes at her. "Hermione, one of the books you had me read was called Runes of the World. It listed runes from twenty-three different cultures."

"You'd need to craft totally new spells, Harry, spells that combine the effect you want with the triggers. But we could develop a set of new spells for standard things like shields, camouflage charms and the like," Luna said thoughtfully.

"Do you think we can combine other runes besides Nordic and Celtic, Luna?" Harry asked.

Hermione glanced at him, a little put out that he hadn't asked her. She calmed when she felt his reassurance over the bond.

"I'm only asking her because she's already done it with two cultures, Hermione." The tone of his thoughts were colored with impatience.

"I know," she sent back to him, unable to hide her insecurity from him. He reached under the table with his hand and laid it on her thigh.

"I'll always need you, my Heart. I'm just asking questions here. Feel free to jump into the conversation."

"I don't see why not, Harry," Luna replied, then her eyes glazed slightly while she thought about it. "You'd have to make sure you break things down into compartments. For example, all the triggering conditions would have to come from one rune set, while the power or effects come from another. I don't think it would be safe to combine them in the same compartment."

Harry leaned back and nodded pensively while Hermione and Luna got into a debate about mixing Rune sets and compartments. He tuned the two of them out, as something he had read was tugging on his consciousness. He was sure it was important.

The part broke up soon afterwards and Harry and Hermione walked back to their room. Both were considering the implications of the conversation around the table.


Haven School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (August 27th)...

"Ah, Miss Bulstrode. Thank you for coming so quickly," Minerva said as the young woman entered her office. Standing behind her desk, she pulled out her wand and sealed the door against intrusion and eavesdropping. "Please, be seated."

"Thank you, Professor," Millicent said as she sat down in one of the two chairs in front of Minerva's desk. "What did you wish to see me about?"

"An idea, my dear," she said, her eyes dancing. "I've been thinking since you brought me the letter Miss Joyner...lost. As she and Mr. Palmer think so little of us, it should be easy to use their prejudice against them."

Millicent frowned. "In what way, Headmistress?"

"As her letter stated, we are trusting fools who would never suspect either of them of duplicity," McGonagall told her, waving a hand about rather airily. "So any information they receive from us they will surely pass on to their parents. Most of the information they receive will have to be correct, of course, but if a small portion of it was incorrect..."

"It could aid our cause," Millicent finished, a wicked smile on her lips. "How very Slytherin of you, Professor. There is at least one problem with the idea though. I can't just walk up and give them information. My parents know who's side I'm on, and it would be too easy to verify it. And we can't rely on them to eavesdrop on the right conversations, either, so how do we pass them the information we want them to have?"

"You pass it through me," a voice said as a figure stepped out of a darkened corner and into the light.

"You!" Millicent exclaimed as she stood quickly and drew her wand. "What is he doing here, Professor?" she asked as she glared at the young, black haired man now standing in front of her.

Minerva stood, reached over her desk and plucked the wand from Millicent's hand. "Calm yourself, Miss Bulstrode. Mr. Thorntree came to me this afternoon with information about Miss Joyner. Apparently he is rather adept with eavesdropping charms. He told me that he overheard Miss Joyner and Mr. Palmer speaking together in the library. He says they are still in contact with their parents and are passing on everything they learn here in Haven. Who would have imagined such a thing?" she asked, her lips twitching.

"So you filled him in on what we're doing?" Millicent asked as she made a grab for her wand and missed. "Are you insane?"

"Don't be impertinent," the Headmistress snapped. "You may be a student in this school, Miss Bulstrode, but that does not mean I won't turn you into a toad for the remainder of the summer!"

"Deneb Thorntree is Mindy Joyner's boyfriend," Millicent growled through clenched teeth. "What makes you think she didn't send him here?"

"Veritaserum," Deneb replied succinctly. "And that's ex-boyfriend, thank you."

When Millicent looked at Minerva, she nodded. "I tested Mr. Thorntree with Veritaserum before trusting him with anything. I am not some addle-pated old woman, Miss Bulstrode. I will remind you that I have fought this war before and I mean to see an end to it this time round. I refuse to fight that snakish monstrosity every thirteen years! Now, sit down, both of you," she commanded, pointing to the chairs in front of her desk.

"Ex-boyfriend my ass," Millicent muttered as she sat down.

"And a nice ass it is," Deneb replied, earning a glare from both women as he took the chair next to Millicent's. "Sorry," he quipped, "the Veritaserum must still be working."

Minerva eyed them both carefully for a moment. "Actually, your dislike of each other could work to our advantage."

"I don't dislike Miss Bulstrode," Deneb replied, a bit surprised. "I hated her house, but I never disliked her. I hardly know her."

"You're such a Hufflepuff," Millicent sniffed.

"Not anymore. There are no houses at the Haven school," he reminded her, his dark eyes wide and innocent.

"If you children are finished?" Minerva asked icily. "We have a lot to discuss."


Hogwarts Castle (August 27th)...

Horatio Mulciber sat at a narrow desk and scowled. He was finally getting reports in from his agents in the field and the news wasn't good. Two days ago there had been a massive flare up of magic all over Britain. The flare up had been so intense that it had completely swamped his Master's magic detectors. Then yesterday word came from a patrol that something seemed wrong at Azkaban. He immediately sent an order to investigate and now he was reading the results of that investigation. Angrily he stared down at the report on the desk and wondered what he could do to appease the Master's anger.

Sir,

Azkaban Prison attacked at dawn on the twenty-fifth. All prisoners in the new facility have been released and removed from the island. We found sixteen uninjured guards and another six wounded. The northern end containing the boat docks has been obliterated. The sixteen uninjured guards have been disarmed and are en route to Hogwarts, the other six have been dispatched. Expect arrival by thirteen hundred today.

The new facility is badly damaged and may be a complete wash. The fortress is intact, but the Dementors have either been driven off or killed. We did find a number of their cloaks on the ground, although I can't guess how they were killed. I didn't think it was possible.

Of the fifty prisoners still in the fortress, all are alive. Why the fortress wasn't attacked is anyone's guess. The area due north of the fortress has been heavily damaged and most of the guard force from the fortress has been found in this area.

Awaiting further instructions.

Archibald Ives, Leader of Team Eight.

Mulciber stood and began to pace. Yes, there was a way to do this, he thought, but it will have to wait until the guards arrive this afternoon.


Padfoot Manor, Harry's study...

Harry glanced up from the letter he was reading when the door opened and he watched as Amelia, Arthur, Caleb, O'Dalley and Draco entered. It was the usual size crowd for his morning meetings, but he wondered about Caleb's presence and the absence of Miles. Hermione took her seat next to Harry's desk, while Dobby rushed around serving tea, coffee and biscuits.

Harry raised an eyebrow at Caleb, but the man just shrugged apologetically at him.

"Well, let's start from the top then. Amelia?" asked Harry.

Amelia consulted her notes for a moment. "We've reviewed the list of prisoners we recovered from Azkaban, Harry. Mind you, most of these people are very ill and will need care for some time to come, but from a cursory look we've saved a number of former Ministry workers, including department heads, magistrates and even twenty-eight Wizengamot members. Among the rescued we have healers, teachers, solicitors, shopkeepers, artisans, and over fifty ex-Aurors.

"At some point, preferably after Draco's people are done questioning them, it would be to your advantage to visit the hospital personally."

Harry frowned and looked hard at Amelia.

Amelia winced slightly under his gaze, but refused to back down. "Like it or not you are a leader," she explained. "Your exploits are becoming legend. The people need to see you. To them, you are their hope."

Harry dropped his gaze and looked down at his desktop for a long moment, sighing heavily.

"Hermione?"

"Amelia is right. I know you don't want the fame, or the legend, but it's going to happen whether you want it or not. At least if you embrace the role, you can help keep the truth in the story."

Harry nodded to himself then looked up at Amelia again. "Very well. When the healers tell you it would be alright, I... No, we, that is, the Brotherhood will visit them. We all had a hand in their rescue."

Amelia nodded happily. It was much more than she had hoped for. She moved on to the next issue. "With the rescue of so many Wizengamot members, there may come an attempt to reconstitute the Wizengamot..."

"How can that be possible? Under current rules they lack the numbers for a formal quorum," Hermione blurted.

Amelia looked at her in surprise. She hadn't known that Hermione was so knowledgeable about the Wizengamot rules.

"Technically, you are correct, Hermione. However, under war time provisions a lot of the old rules can be suspended. That's why I was going to suggest that if such a move is made, Harry assume his familial seat as Lord Potter. As he is from one of the old families, his vote would hold considerable weight within the body," Amelia replied, looking at Hermione.

"If that comes to pass, he'll assume the seats for both the Black and Potter families. In fact, considering the losses and upheavals at home, it is quite possible that he would be allowed to assume the seats for several other families. Considering the intermixing among the pure blood families, I don't believe it's unreasonable to assume that he could claim lordship over several other now extinct lines," Hermione said firmly.

Harry simply stared at her in shock.

Hermione leaned back in her chair thinking for a moment. "Yes, that would work. By rights, the Weasley family should have had a seat on the Wizengamot, but they were unable to pay the seating fees at the turn of the century. I'm sure Harry would be happy to pay those dues for Arthur and reinstate the family to their proper place. Then there is your position, Amelia. As you're allied to Harry, we don't have to worry about that. The Longbottoms are also firmly on our side. Minerva might be the last living heir of Clan McGonagall, which means she could also take her seat..."

Arthur had paled at Hermione's suggestion. The others sat in shocked silence while she listed off the beginning of a power block that would firmly support Amelia and Harry in the Wizengamot. When she finally wound down, she looked over at everyone and wondered why they looked so stunned.

"What?"

"I'm sorry, Hermione. I didn't realize you had such a firm grasp on the politics of the situation," Amelia said, looking pleased.

"Narcissa has been tutoring me on the subject. She seemed to feel it was part of my duties as Lady Potter-Black, and that I would use the information to guide my husband in a subject he loathes," she said with smile as she reached out and took Harry's hand. He looked at her for a moment, his expression dignified, then he stuck his tongue out at her.

Arthur started to sputter, but Harry stopped him. "Arthur, nothing is decided today. We're talking about things that might happen, so let's worry about it when we need to, hmm?" At Arthur's nod, he turned to Draco and asked for his report.

"I have people talking to the prisoners now, Harry, but we're hampered by their illnesses. Nothing can really be done until they're well enough to talk. Also, I need to know what you want done with the Quislings?"

Harry blinked at the unfamiliar term. "Quislings?"

"It's a muggle term, Harry," offered Hermione. "During the muggle Second World War, there was a government official who cooperated with the enemy, a traitor. His last name was Quisling. As it turns out, the muggle war was actually the wizard war against Grindelwald and Quisling was really a traitor wizard. Both muggles and Wizards use the term."

Harry nodded his thanks, then turned back to Draco. "Do you really expect to find any?"

"We already have testimony from several individuals concerning two Quislings. One is supposedly guilty of causing the deaths of several prisoners."

Harry frowned and looked down at his desk for a moment. "Very well. When you obtain testimony concerning one of these people, turn it over to Michael O'Dalley so it can be treated as a criminal case."

He shook his head then and looked up. "I'm reluctant to build a prison here in Haven. Besides, I don't think we have the authority to do so. Amelia, we're going to have to talk to the Irish about housing our prisoners until we can get them in our own prisons back home. Legally, only small parts of Haven are considered British soil - the Ministry building and the Ops Center to be specific. We can't hold these people, at least, not legally.

"Draco, have the healers given you any time frame for interviewing all the prisoners?"

Draco consulted his notes for a moment. "Some are capable of talking to us now, but others will take several weeks. To be honest, I was surprised when Amelia brought up the Wizengamot, only because so many of it's members that we did rescue are seriously ill. I wouldn't expect any attempt to rebuild a Wizengamot for at least a month or more."

Harry nodded in understanding, then turned to O'Dalley. "Michael, I know Draco's people will point out who you should be looking at, but make sure you double check everything. I don't want someone to be accused of something they didn't do."

"We would have done that anyway, my Lord," Michael said with quiet dignity.

Harry grimaced. "I'm sorry. I know you'll do a fine job, Michael. You always do. I did not mean to cast any doubt on your performance," he said apologetically.

"I understand, my Lord," Michael told him, smiling.

Harry turned back to Draco. "Do you have anything more to add?"

"No, that about covers it. I'll keep you updated on the rescued prisoners, but I don't expect to have much until they're better."

Harry turned to Caleb next and watched the man pull out a large envelope and removed several files from it.

"We've scheduled a service for the twenty-four we lost," Caleb said quietly. "The service will be held at Memorial Lake at dusk in three days time. We lucked out on the six who were critically injured. It looks like they'll survive. Most of the other injured have been released from the hospital."

He paused as several people in the room breathed a sigh of relief. Several whispered prayers for those lost.

Once the moment had passed, Caleb continued. "We'll be holding a post mission debriefing and analysis starting at thirteen-hundred today. There were several critical flaws in our plan that could have turned against us..."

"Yes, the guard shift turn over and the number of Dementors for a start," Harry murmured.

Caleb shot Harry a grateful glance. His comments were neutral, assigning blame to no one. "Finally, Miles asked me to hold down the fort for him for a day or two. He's feeling a little under the weather."

Arthur snorted and everyone turned to look at him. "Under the weather? That's a fine way of saying he nearly collapsed after the end of the mission."

Harry frowned. "Are you suggesting he's too ill to continue with his duties, Arthur?"

Arthur looked confused for a moment, then started to squirm under Harry's intense gaze. "I don't honestly know, Harry. It could have been extreme fatigue."

Harry looked around at the faces surrounding him and pondered his options, which, to be honest, were quite few. He couldn't ask Miles to step aside, and he owed the man a huge debt.

He stood then and walked to the window. He glanced outside for a moment before turning back to the group. "I don't like this. I owe Miles. Many of us here do. Caleb, I'll ask you to keep an eye on him and help him if he needs it. However, I won't ask him to step aside unless I know for sure his health is in jeopardy."

Caleb looked relieved.

"Is there anything else then?" Harry asked of everyone.

Caleb looked down at his notes. "Yes, concerning that issue we discussed? If you still want to go through with it, we're ready to start this Monday."

Harry's danced wickedly and he wore a feral smile. "Excellent. I'll alert the participating parties to be there at the appropriate time. Now, if that's all? I still have a morning training session to attend and a few things to look up before the afternoon mission debrief."

Hermione looked at Harry sharply. She could tell he was hiding something from her. By mutual agreement they decided not to explore each others minds without express permission. He didn't mind her poking around, but he had set aside one area she was not allowed to enter and she knew it was the place he kept things he didn't want her to know. She had used a similar technique herself.

"What are you up to, Harry?" Hermione sent him silently as the others filed from the room.

"Oh, nothing much love. I'm just avoiding a repeat of something," he replied with too much smugness for her comfort.

Hermione scowled and knew she wouldn't get it out of him until he was ready. That was one big difference between Harry and her father. According to her mother, her father couldn't keep a secret to save his life. She could always wheedle it out of him, or bribe it out of him. When Harry decided to keep something secret, it stayed that way. She watched as he packed up a few books and walked from the room, whistling off-key.


Hogwarts Castle...

While Harry was entering the Haven Operations Briefing Theater for a analysis of what went right, and what went wrong on Operation Breakout, another meeting was about to begin. This meeting had a more sinister purpose.

Voldemort glanced up from his throne when the doors opened and Mulciber walked into the hall. He bowed low, then clapped his hands together.

The Dark Lord raised an astonished eyebrow at his audacity, but said nothing. Through the doors walked several masked Death Eaters who were leading a group of sixteen badly bruised and broken looking men. A rope was tied around their necks. The men were lead to stand directly behind Mulciber.

"What is the meaning of this, Mulciber?" demanded Voldemort. One of the tethered men moaned in fear and nearly fainted. A guard hit him with a club, causing the man to cry out.

Mulciber bowed lower. "My Lord, these things have failed you... They are all that is left of the guard force that protected your island prison at Azkaban. Two days ago the island was attacked and most of the prisoners were freed by forces led by Harry Potter."

Voldemort bolted to his feet. "My Prison? Potter! Avada Kedavra!" he shouted, pointing his wand at one of the tethered men. The green bolt struck the man and he collapsed to the ground, his eyes unseeing, dead.

Mulciber cowered on the floor and hoped these men would be enough to deflect his Master's wrath.

"Explain, Mulciber! " snarled Voldemort as he glared at the fifteen remaining men.

"We are still trying to find out details, my Lord, but as near as we can determine a group of British Ministry Aurors, lead by Harry Potter, attacked the prison at dawn two days ago. We first learned that something was wrong when the duty shift boats didn't return yesterday. A team was sent out to investigate. The island is heavily damaged. The northern one-third of the island from the Holding Center to the boat docks has been totally destroyed. The Holding Center was the scene of a large battle and all the prisoners were freed from the island. The fortress was untouched although, as you can see from the men behind me, these are all that remain of the guard force. We are unable to account for any of the Dementors that were stationed on the island. We've found nearly a hundred cloaks, but there's no sign of the Dementors."

The Dark Lord stood quietly, absorbing all that Mulciber had said. Then he walked towards the remains of his guard force and examined them.

"Send these... failures down to Severus. He will know what to do with them. In the meantime, this must not be allowed to happen again! See that all the prisoners in the fortress are brought to Hogwarts and put extra guards on the other wizard camps," Voldemort said finally, then he turned and stalked back to his throne.

Relieved, Mulciber motioned for the former guards to be taken away. Then he turned and bowed again to the Dark Lord. When he stood up straight once more, Voldemort launched a bone pulverizing hex at his legs. The Death Eater howled in pain and collapsed to the floor as his legs bones turned to a powder.

"I do not tolerate failure, Mulciber. Learn from this experience!" Voldemort snapped, his eyes glowing red in the dimly lit hall. "Now leave!"

Mulciber whimpered and started the long crawl from the Great Hall.

"Summon Lucius!" Voldemort snapped to another Death Eater. The man, in his haste to leave his Lord's presence, never noticed when he stepped on Mulciber's hand, breaking several more bones.


Haven Operations Center (August 29th)...

Harry stood on the platform and looked at his friends. Next to him stood Neville and Draco, both of whom were smiling smugly at the rest.

Looking up at him were Hermione, Ginny, Luna, Tonks, Remus, Dan and Emma.

Harry took a step forward. "Last week we had a bit of a problem because some of you didn't like the fact that you weren't on the island with the three of us. Well, today's your chance to change that. Before I continue, however, I'm going to offer you one chance at a way out. If you don't want to undergo the training that Neville, Draco and I have undergone, now is the time to say it. Just remember, don't complain to me if you're left watching the grass grow."

Dan and Emma exchanged a glance, and then Dan raised his hand. Harry smiled and nodded at the pair. "I didn't really expect you two to want to undergo this kind of training. Eocho and I will be beefing up your DADA training a little to compensate, but you're both excused."

Remus watched the elder Grangers leave enviously and he looked like he desperately wanted to follow them. Then he straightened his shoulders, sighed and turned back to look at Harry.

Harry grinned, a bit smug. "Ladies and Gentlemen, I want to introduce you to Gunnery Sergeant Oscar Stonefist. He was a drill instructor before being attached to the 806th Animagi Division. He'll overseeing your initial training until you're able to join the rest of us in the regular ranks. Now Gunny Stonefist is a bit of a perfectionist, but I think you'll get along just fine."

His expression changed then and he grimaced at his friends. "And before any of you make the same mistake I did," Harry told them, thinking back to the hundreds of push-ups he'd had to do," Gunny Stonefist is a Native American, not an Italian."

Harry stepped back and watched the Gunny walk out onto platform. He stood at least six and a half feet tall and couldn't have weighed less than two-hundred-fifty pounds, none of which was fat. His black eyed gaze took in each of the new recruits and his expression became more disgusted as he went down the line. Then he turned to Harry and glared at him for a moment before turning back to the group.

"Mr. Potter here has asked me to train you children," he said with a sneer. "But I think I just oughta kill you now and get it over with. I swear by my ancestor's spirits you are the sorriest looking bunch of maggots I have ever seen! Now, here's what we're going to do, boys and girls. You see that door over there? Inside you'll find lockers with your names on them. And inside those lockers you'll find your PT gear. I expect you all to be in that gear and back out here within five minutes!"

Stonefist placed two mammoth fists on his hips and stared down at the group. All of them stood staring at him in shock

"MOVE IT!" he bellowed and the group turned and bolted for the door.

"You've got them alright, Gunny?"asked Harry.

Stonefist turned to him and grinned. "I'll handle them fine, Mr. Potter, but are you sure you want me to do this? I mean, isn't your wife in that bunch?"

"All our wives are, Gunny," answered Neville. "But they want to be able to fight alongside us."

Stonefist nodded thoughtfully. "I'll whip them into shape."

"Good enough, Gunny. Now, if you'll excuse us, we have our own training to get to," Harry said.

"Training or not, I wouldn't hang around here if you paid me to," Neville muttered just loud enough to be heard. "Ginny's going to kill me when she gets home."

"You're assuming she'll be able to move when she gets home," Draco told him. "I'm betting Luna won't be able to catch me."

Stonefist saluted and waited for his trainees to come out of the locker room. As Harry and the others walked from the room, they could hear Stonefist dressing down someone for being sloppy. The three men couldn't help but laugh. After all, they'd been through it and had lived to tell the tale.

"I'll get you for this, Harry," Hermione sent.

"Train hard, my Heart. After all, this is what you wanted," he replied smugly.


Padfoot Manor, Later that same day...

The manor was surprisingly quiet with so many of the Brotherhood away. Harry was sitting in the dinning room eating dinner when the Grangers entered the room.

Emma raised an eyebrow when she saw Harry engrossed in a book. "Careful, Harry, or people might think you're turning into my daughter," she cautioned him.

Harry grinned and waved them to seats. Dan looked around at the empty table and frowned. "I thought they would be back by now."

"Oh, I expect they'll be back soon. They're probably plotting their revenge on Neville, Draco and me," he replied with a grin.

Emma's eyes narrowed in a manner remarkably like Hermione's. "Just what have you three done?"

Harry shrugged. "We gave them what they asked for. We;re sending them through the same training that we through so they can join us on the battlefield if they wish. The first couple days will be rough on them, but they'll adjust. If you think they had it bad, imagine what I had to go through. No one allowed me to sit out the exercises when my leg hurt. Because of the way I run, I ended up setting the obstacle course record - for the longest time ever recorded..."

He trailed off when the door to the dinning room opened and the rest of the Brotherhood staggered in, looking rather beat. Seeing the look on Hermione's face, he very wisely refrained from commenting out loud.

"Dobby will be here in a moment with a potion, love. It will help ease the aches in your muscles. Winky is already getting your bath ready. Have a light meal and go relax for a while."

"You went through this?"

"I did, and never would have been able to get through it without your help with my leg."

Hermione winced, remembering all the days he came home with his leg hurting.

"If it's any consolation, my Heart, within a week you'll find that it hurts less. It's the first couple of days that are really bad."

Hermione sat heavily on her chair next to Harry and smiled weakly at him. Dobby appeared a minute later with potions for the others.

"Dobby has a potion that will make you feel better. I suggest you drink it, then have a light meal. After dinner, go for a hot soak. I have the elves preparing your baths even now," Harry told them, smiling wryly.

Around the table people groaned and strained against complaining muscles to look at him.

"Thats not a bad idea," Tonks said wearily. "I used to do the same when I was at the Auror academy." When Remus groaned, she snickered. "Just remember dear. You wanted to do this."

Remus quickly discovered how painful it was to glare at his wife, let alone argue with her. Being the wise man he was, he decided to save his energy for more important tasks, such as eating his meal.

Harry waited until Hermione had eaten before he stood up.

"Are you ready?" he sent to her.

"I suppose, but to be honest, right now one of the couches on the first floor sounds mighty inviting."

Harry chuckled and pulled her into an embrace, then he apparated the both of them upstairs to their bedroom.

Hermione smiled against his chest and nearly purred. "Happiness is a husband who can apparate us both when I'm too tired."

"Don't worry, a week or two of this and you won't be coming home exhausted. Now, get undressed. Your bath is waiting."

"Are you joining me?"

Harry smiled and shook his head ruefully at her. "I'd like to, but I doubt you're up to that sort of entertainment tonight. However, I'll give you a nice massage when you come out if you want."

Once stripped of her clothing, Hermione smiled to herself and walked into the bathroom naked. She knew Harry would watch her and she had nothing against teasing him a little.


British Ministry of Magic, Haven (August 30th)...

Dobby appeared in the small mail room and looked around, expecting to see the usual clerks on duty. He blinked his large eyes in surprise at finding the room empty. Shrugging, he walked over to the bin set aside for Harry's mail. Reaching in he pulled out the mail and one large package addressed to Hermione. It was then that he spotted the letter on the floor behind the bin. He picked it up as well and put it on the pile.

With mail to deliver, he vanished with a small pop.


Padfoot Manor, Harry's study...

Harry held the door open for Hermione who was still a little sore from yesterday. She didn't have to return to the Operations Center until noon, something for which she was very thankful. As per her routine every morning, she checked the mail, handing off to Harry what he needed to see. This morning she was surprised to find a small package sitting on top of the mail pile.

She walked over and pulled the package off of the pile. All mail had been screened for harmful hexes, portkeys and the like, but the package could have other spells on it. Placing the package on the floor, she ran a scan of it. Harry watched her with no small amount of amusement from his desk.

Hermione's brows knitted for a moment, then she cast a "finite" on the package, canceling the shrinking spell. The package grew into a huge crate, nearly six feet on a side. Hermione stepped back in surprise, then she reached for the packaging list attached to the side of the crate. Opening it, she found a letter from Sheik Alim Hosary, the Egyptian Minister for Magical Antiquities.

My Dear Lord and Lady Potter,
Even as I write this letter, news of your exploits in rescuing your countrymen are echoing through the halls of Government here and in the other Arab Ministries. You have rocked the world and shaken the belief that Voldemort is unstoppable to it's very roots. It is no wonder that the comic book version of 'Harry Potter, the Autobiography' has become one of the best selling books to children in our region.

My Lady, as I promised, a survey of the Library uncovered nearly fifteen hundred volumes of lore pertaining to the Celtic and Druid cultures from the pre-Christian era. Inside the crate you will find shrunken copies of these volumes, along with a list of translation charms that can be used. I hope you will accept this humble gift from one who admires what you and your husband are trying to do.

It is my sincere hope that this finds you both in good health and that you remain that way for many years to come. May God look favorably on your work.

Yours,
Alim Hosary
Minister of Magical Antiquities.

Hermione looked at the big crate rapturously. She shuffled over to a chair and sat down.

"Hermione?"

"Hmmm?"

"What's the matter?"

"Books, Harry, wonderful books," she replied in an eerie, Luna-like voice.

Harry scanned the letter from the Sheik and nodded. "Alright, you start unpacking those books. I'll go through the rest of the mail."

Harry leaned across his desk and grabbed the pile of mail and began to leaf through it. He went through nearly twenty letters before finding on that made him stop everything.

Potter,
I know this letter had to take a circuitous route to get to you, but that's alright. It just gives my people more time to play. You will never believe what I've found. It wasn't easy, but we've found your dear cousin, Dudley. Your aunt and uncle, I'm afraid, suffered a more ignominious death. Can you believe it? Someone actually forgot to feed them when her Majesty's prisons were abandoned. What a pity.

Now, to the matter at hand. We've managed to obtain the services of a defrocked healer who took more pleasure in inflicting pain than he did in healing it. Our good healer is now teaching Dudley a lesson and I'm told his screams can be heard all over Surrey. We thought it would be ironic if he were tortured in your old home.

Here's the deal, Potter. If you want to see your precious muggle cousin again, you will drop the ward around the country and come to Little Whining in person. You can bring a portkey with you to send him out of the country, if you wish. And I'll give you my oath as a wizard that he'll be allowed to leave alive. This offer is only good until the thirty-first of August, then we'll kill him and send you the pieces.

Lucius Malfoy
Supreme Muggle Authority of Britain

Harry read the letter a second time as he brought up his full Occlumency shields. He felt a rage building up within that was almost as bad as what he'd felt when he destroyed the Ministry building back in April. Crumpling up the letter in one fist and threw it violently into the trash bin. Swearing sulfurously under his breath, he stormed from the room, leaving a bewildered Hermione behind.

She sat stunned for a moment. She had been caught off guard when Harry closed the link between them so suddenly and completely. He had never closed it before, but now there was nothing, as if he had ceased to exist. Frightened, she scrambled to the trash bin and retrieved the parchment he had thrown away. It had obviously been the cause of his strange reaction.

As she read the letter, she paled. Still holding it in her trembling hands, she called for him again and again over the bond, but she couldn't feel any response. Assuming the worst, she ran from the study, still clutching the deadly letter in her hand.


Haven Operations Center, Miles' Office...

Miles looked up from the parchment he was reading when the door opened and Hermione rushed in. He was still dreadfully pale, but he was slowly recovering, at least he thought he was.

"Hermione?" asked the aging former Unspeakable.

"Harry got this letter this morning," Hermione said, thrusting the parchment under his nose without any preamble.

Miles took the letter from her hand and started to read as Hermione paced in the room. Finally he looked up from the letter, the worry obvious in his expression.

"Harry tossed that letter into the trash bin, then stormed from the office. I don't know where he is. He's completely shut down the link between us, so I can't even feel him anymore," Hermione said in a tremulous voice, then she collapsed in a chair, trying not to give into the wave of grief she was feeling. The loss of the link confused and hurt her. She knew Harry could hide things from her, but she couldn't understand the total and complete silence he had imposed between them.

"You don't think he's gone to Surrey, do you?" asked Miles incredulously.

Hermione waved a hand weakly in his direction. "I don't know, Miles. He's gone somewhere."

Miles frowned and suppressed a wince as the pain in his stomach flared to life again. He pressed a button on his desk and a moment later an aide opened his door.

"Please ask Caleb Newman to join us as soon as possible," Miles said. The aide nodded and left the room.

Caleb arrived a few minutes later. He was surprised to see Hermione, but he turned to Miles and waited.

"Caleb, I think we're going to need to mount a quick and dirty assault," Miles said, passing the note over to Caleb. "It's possible that Lord Potter has gone off to save his cousin. It's undoubtedly a trap of some sort. I want you to assemble two combat squads and insert them into Little Whining as quickly as you can."

Caleb blinked at Miles in shock. This was an uncharacteristically heavy first response. The first thing they should be doing is sending in elf scouts to determine exactly what the situation was, not rushing in.

Hermione listened to Miles and her eyes grew wider as she came to understand the potential danger Harry was in.

"Miles..." Caleb started.

Miles glared at him. "You have your orders, Caleb. If you can't carry them out, I'll find someone who can."

Caleb stared at Miles in astonished shock for a moment, then he nodded. "We'll be off in less than twenty minutes, Miles, but I want to go on record right here and now and say you're making a huge mistake with this," he said in a hard tone. He tossed the letter down on the desk, spun on his heel and left the office.


Derreenataggart West, Overlooking Castletown...

Harry sat on the portal stone within the stone circle. This was the source, the fount of the Brotherhood. He had fled the manor to this place, all the while trying to control the rage that had built up within him. As soon as he realized what was happening, he'd cut his connection to Hermione. He did not want to subject her to the madness that threatened to consume him. Or for her to feel the deep shame that accompanied the rage.

Why he came to this place in particular he couldn't say. His first impulse was to go someplace where he could blow something up. He even briefly toyed with the idea of portkeying into Hogwarts and trying to destroy the place, but he knew he wasn't ready to face Voldemort yet. Besides, he still hoped in his heart that they would be able to reclaim the castle someday and return it to its original purpose - a school for Wizarding children.

And so he left the manor, apparating with no clear cut destination in mind, to end up here, at the birthplace of the modern Brotherhood. It was a sobering thought and caused much of his anger to dissipate. Sitting atop the portal stone, he watched the ships out on the ocean for a long time. The sight was soothing.

Harry hopped off the stone and stepped into the middle of the circle where he sat on the cool damp grass and proceeded to use his Occlumency to center himself. He needed to find the source of this anger and burn it away. The fact that such rage still continued to plague him shamed him deeply.


Number Four Privet Drive, Little Whining, Surrey...

A bleaker landscape could not be found in all of Britain. Little Whining had been razed to the ground, first by loyalist elements of the British Army fighting with Voldemort's controlled forces, then again by the Death Eaters in a gesture of contempt for Harry Potter.

Privet Drive consisted largely of a street bracketed by ruins on both sides. Most of the homes were mere burnt out shells, except for number four. Number four looked like it always did, spotless and untouched by the devastation around it. The home had been destroyed in the battle and resulting firestorm, but Lucius Malfoy had seen to it's repair and reconstruction as part of his overall plan.

Caleb and his men arrived in the park roughly one mile away from Privet Drive and made their way towards the target building. Caleb was extremely tense. The target could be easily seen, even from this distance with so many other buildings having collapsed. There was a lot of low cover, but not a lot of high cover, which made moving up on the target difficult at best.

Caleb and the assault team were just coming off Wisteria walk onto Privet drive when the ambush hit. He was confused at first when several of the Americans on the team started shouting to find cover. The whumping noise in the distance didn't mean much to him. Then the area around them all began to fountain with explosions, rocks and debris.

"COVER!" Caleb shouted as he ducked behind a small piece of brickwork still standing. He motioned to one of his Americans. He didn't understand the explosions, or the noise in the distance.

"Mortars, Sir! They're shooting at us from over a thousand yards away," came the shouted reply.

Caleb looked around and made his decision. Miles might not approve, but to hell with him.

"Portkeys! Return to Haven!" he shouted, then he ducked as a nearby explosion showered him with more rocks. He glanced up in time to see Death Eaters pour from Number Four and start firing curses at his men. Turning, he spotted one of his medics run up to a fallen Auror and slap down an emergency portkey... and nothing happened.

Caleb swore under his breath, then he tried to apparate, but failed. They were trapped under several wards, including anti-portkey and anti-apparation.

"FLOO! FLOO!" he shouted. A man run up to Caleb carrying the bulky device. He snatched the portable floo out of his hands and pressed the lever to release the floo powder.

"Op Center, this is Charlie One Six. We're trapped under wards and are pinned down, unable to retreat or move forward. We are taking both muggle heavy weapons and wizard fire. Request assistance to enable a breakout."

Caleb ducked again and cursed when he saw the man who'd given him the floo lying in the street, both legs torn off below the knees.

"Medic! Medic!" he shouted.

He glance up to see what was obviously their target. Dudley Dursley stood in front of the house among a large group of wizards. One stood behind Dudley, holding a wand to his head. Dudley lifted a rifle to his shoulder and began looking for targets. His face had the characteristic blank look of someone under the Imperious curse.

Crouched next to Caleb was one of his Americans. The man had taken a bad hit to the shoulder, but was still casting shields and hexes at the enemy. The man paused and looked at him in fear as another sound slowly rose in volume. Caleb only looked confused at the clanking sound.


The War Room, Haven Operations Center...

Miles looked up at the sound of Caleb's voice and he experienced a profound dizziness. A wave of nausea washed over him as everyone in the room looked to him to make a decision. Miles stood up unsteadily from his chair, then staggered a few feet before vomiting blood all over the floor. Someone screamed for a healer and the room spun crazily for a second, then he collapsed into unconsciousness.

There was a moment of total silence and the clerks and aides all looked at each other, aghast. They had a mission in the field that looked to be in serious trouble and no one available to give orders. One of the map girls bolted from the room, looking for the healer they kept on station in the Op Center. Finally, another aide said he was going to go find either Lord Potter or the Minister.

Meanwhile, the messages from Charlie One became more and more frantic as Op Center remained off the air.


Padfoot Manor...

When Harry returned to the manor house, he immediately sought out Eocho. With help from Dobby, Harry found him out behind the manor, near the pool. He had been instructing the Grangers outside and had just finished.

"Honored Teacher," Harry said in a quiet voice, stepping up to the spectral Druid.

Eocho looked carefully at Harry, frowning. "I feel your disquiet, Maglios. What bothers you?"

Harry sat and explained to Eocho about the letter he had received, and how, despite the brutality, Dudley was the last living link, other than himself, to his mother's family. He explained the anger he felt, and where he went, spending several hours in quiet contemplating.

Eocho nodded understandingly. "This is a significant step for you, Maglios, You controlled the beast within. You shall never truly escape it, for it is part of you. But controlling it is a great step... I am troubled, however, by you cutting yourself off from your mate. She is one of the sources of your strength, perhaps the greatest source."

Harry hung his head and tried to frame a reply to his teacher. "I realize that, Honored Teacher, but I did not want her to experience my anger, or my shame for having such feelings..."

Harry was interrupted by the arrival of a Haven Elf who snapped off a perfect salute at him. "SIR! His Sneakiness, Commander Draco Black, insists you come to the Operations Center right away, SIR!"

Harry and Eocho exchanged a glance, then Harry stood and bowed slightly to Eocho. "Honored Teacher, perhaps we can continue this conversation later? This evening, perhaps?"

With Eocho's agreement, Harry vanished, apparating to the Ops Center.

A moment after Harry vanished, Hermione came running out of the manor looking for him. Eocho waved for her to slow down.


Haven Operations Center...

Harry appeared just outside of Miles' office and was about to enter when he heard someone shout out his name. Turning, he could see Draco running towards him.

"Harry! It's a bloody mess! Miles has taken ill and we've got a complete muckup of a mission going down right now. Caleb's the mission commander, which means you're the next in command," Draco said breathlessly as he skidded to a halt next to him.

"Mission? There's no mission scheduled for today! Hell, there's no mission scheduled at all!" protested Harry.

Draco tugged on Harry, trying to drag him to the War room. "I don't know all the details, but we have two squads trapped and taking muggle and wizard fire in Surrey."

Harry skidded to a halt and stared at Draco for a moment. "Surrey? A town called Little Whining?"

Draco nodded, astonished that Harry would know so much about a mission he claimed wasn't happening.

Harry's eyes flared hotly. "The squads are trapped under wards, right?"

Draco nodded dumbly at him.

"Damn that woman!" Harry growled, then he turned and kicked the wall. He closed his eyes for a moment taking a few calming breaths. Then he turned back to Draco.

"Draco, until I get back, or Caleb relieves you, you are in charge. Get some elves out to Surrey — now! I want magic all over the place to cover me. Alert the hospital. We'll probably be coming back with wounded," he said, then he vanished.

Draco shook his head and wondered how the heck he was going to tell anyone that he was in charge. Squaring his shoulders, he took off in the direction of the War Room.


Little Whining, Surrey...

Harry arrived in the little park off Wisteria walk and immediately crouched down and cast an invisibility spell. It was something learned from Eocho and sufficiently different from modern spells to make him undetectable.

With a deft flip of his wrist, his staff flew into his grasp and expanded to its normal size. He looked around carefully. He could hear the sounds of fighting. Not far from where he stood he watched as a British Centurion tank slowly made it's way over the rubble. The tank was clawing in the direction of Privet Drive, and he knew that couldn't be allowed.

With a silent invocation and a wave of his staff, the street in front of the tank turned into a muddy bog. Almost immediately the tank started to dig itself into the mud rather than move forward. It was well and truly trapped.

With the tank out of the way, Harry moved carefully towards Privet drive with his senses fully extended. He had to find the edge of the trapping wards before he could bring them down. Crouching low next to a broken brick wall, he said a silent prayer of thanks when the sky over all of Surrey lit up with magic. Draco's elves were providing enough of a diversion that his magic wouldn't be easily spotted.

Harry was slowly making his way towards the intersection of Privet and Wisteria when he stopped. Some wards, even with his enhanced Aura sight, could be difficult to find. He could detect the faint outline of a powerful ward only a few yards ahead and he crept closer to it.

When he was close enough, he reached out and touched the ward. His magic flared brightly. "Ego to order illa moenia occumbo!" he murmured, his voice laced with power. There was a moment of stillness, then his hand flared briefly. The ward sizzled and snapped as its power shattered into millions of shards of glowing energy before fading out.

Harry wiped his sweaty brow and took a deep breath. That ward was a lot stronger than I expected it to be, he thought. Could the assault squads be up against a rite enhanced wizard?

He inched up on the second ward and brought it down a few minutes later.

Caleb crouched lower against the wall and cursed. Op-Center had finally gotten back to him, telling him that help was on the way, and the approaching tank or machine or whatever it was had stopped making that awful clanking sound. Then the sky lit up with magic from all four major compass points. But as far as he was concerned, help still hadn't arrived.

When a body suddenly jumped into the shallow hole he was in, Caleb nearly fired a crushing hex. When he realized who was in the hole with him, he stared in astonishment.

"Hi! I heard you ran into a spot of trouble," Harry said cheekily. It took all of Caleb's willpower to suppress his urges at that point. He didn't know whether to strangle Harry, or hug him.

"The wards are down?" Caleb asked carefully.

"Down and gone, so how about getting our wounded home?"

Caleb turned and whistled sharply. A medic ran up to the wounded man sharing Caleb's wall and slapped a portkey on him. A moment later, he was gone. Caleb noted it was the wounded American.

"So, what is the situation?" Harry shouted over the sound of exploding mortars.

"We got pinned down here under anti-apparation and anti-portkey wards. Your cousin is about fifty yards up the road and under an Imperious curse from the looks of it. He's the one shooting at us using a rifle. I had planned to get everyone out of here, but now that you're here, if you want to bring out your cousin, we can try," Caleb replied loudly in Harry's ear.

"What's our strength?" Harry shouted back.

"Less than fifty percent!"

Harry frowned and poked his head over the wall. His eyes narrowed and he shot a cutting hex at the wizard holding Dudley under wand point. The curse arced out over the battlefield, hitting the wizard a little higher than Harry had planned. The man screamed in agony as the cutting hex sliced away the man's arm at the shoulder.

"Nice shot," commented Caleb.

Harry sent Caleb a quick grin, then he turned back to where the other wizards were clustered. Dudley stood out in the open, shaking his head as the curse faded away. He dropped the rifle and looked at it in surprise.

"Accio Dudley!" Harry shouted, then he waited until just the last moment before standing. He caught Dudley and spun before dropping below the brick wall again. Harry stared at Dudley and released him almost immediately. He didn't want to rescue his cousin, but he had been forced into taking this action. Dudley blinked in surprise, while Harry turned back to the wall and Caleb.

"Lets get the hell outta..."

Caleb's eyes bulged as Dudley, in a single, fluid motion, climbed to his knees, pulled out a nine millimeter handgun from underneath his shirt and fired two round at close range into Harry's back.

"Die, you freak!" Dudley shouted. He pulled the trigger again, then gaped when the gun jammed.

"Avada Kedavra!" shouted four of Caleb's men.

All four curses hit their target, spinning Dudley around. He was dead before he hit the ground.

Harry's eyes widened in shock, the closed slowly as he slumped against the wall.

A medic jumped into the hole to help, but before he could do anything, the medallion Harry wore activated, whisking him away.

The medic stared at the empty space, then at Caleb in anguish. "Where'd he go?" the man shouted.

"Charlie One, Portkey retreat!" Caleb shouted, then watched as his men activated their own portkeys. He took a quick count, then glanced over to the body of Dudley Dursley. Had he the time, he would have gladly set it on fire. Grabbing his own portkey, he vanished from the field.

Charlie One had taken heavy losses, perhaps the heaviest loss of all.


Padfoot Manor...

Hermione paced in the sitting room set aside for her and Harry. Her parents had joined her a short while ago. After talking to Eocho she discovered that Harry had not gone to Surrey like she'd originally thought. But floo calls to the Operations Center for Harry went unanswered and none of the Haven elves knew where he was. She tried calling Dobby, but remembered that he was helping Neville with an important replanting in one of the greenhouses and couldn't be disturbed.

"Hermione, dear, what is your problem today? It seems like you're unable to sit for more than a minute before you start pacing again," Emma said.

Dan frowned and looked at his daughter, wondering if she was pregnant.

Hermione stopped and stared at her parents, then she wrung her hands together. "I think I made a horrible mistake today... Something terrible is happening, I can feel it..."

Then she paled so quickly her parents stood in alarm. The link to Harry opened and for a brief moment she rejoiced before she realized that he was unconscious. Her knees gave out and Dan leaped forward catching her in his arms. "Harry, no!" she gasped aloud, then clung to her father.

Both Dan and Emma exchanged worried looks, then paled when the alarm, indicating a medical emergency, started ringing throughout the manor. Hermione broke from Dan's arms and rushed for the door, her parents close behind.

Remus and Tonks were standing in the grand foyer when the front door burst open and Danni McNeil rushed in. Part of the house alarm system alerted Danni that she was needed. She made a beeline for the stairs to the basement, and the room where the medallions delivered the wounded. Remus and Tonks followed her with Hermione close behind them.

Danni rushed into the receiving room and spotted Harry lying on the floor, bleeding heavily from a large wound in his chest. Danni reached into her kit and pulled out a portkey. She looked up as the others arrived. Hermione skidded into the Remus' back and, seeing Harry, she cried out in anguish.

"I'm taking him to the hospital. Meet us there," Dan said calmly before she vanished, taking Harry with her.


Haven Hospital...

The doors to the emergency room entrance opened admitting Hermione, her parents, Remus and Tonks. None of them had any idea of what was really going on, only that Harry appeared to be seriously injured. Hermione skidded to a stop in the waiting room, surprised to see Caleb Newman sitting in one of the chairs.

Caleb looked up at Hermione and frowned at her. Then he stood and walked over to where she stood with her parents.

"It was a trap, like we knew it would be," Caleb said angrily. "I lost more than half my men. Twelve dead and another ten injured. If Harry hadn't shown up to break through the wards, we would have been slaughtered. Then his own fucking cousin shot him."

Remus looked up in surprise. "Shot? Harry's been shot? What in the name of the nine hells is going on here?"

"Ask her," Caleb growled, pointing at Hermione.

"Harry got a letter from Lucius Malfoy. He was holding Dudley Dursley hostage and offered him freedom in exchange for Harry." Hermione said weakly.

Remus frowned. "So? Harry would have just ignored the letter. I know he hates Dudley, not enough to do anything to him personally, but he wouldn't lift a finger to save him, either."

"Harry did ignore it. I... I brought the letter to Miles, who mounted a rescue mission," Hermione told him.

Remus turned to stare at her. "How could you?" he demanded angrily. "You of all people should have understood. You're bonded to him! How could you have been so stupid? Merlin! I thought you were smarter than this, Hermione!"

Seeing Hermione wilt under Remus' verbal assault, Dan placed an arm around her. "Remus, you're not being fair. We don't know the whole story yet. Besides, what Hermione did was the right thing, the Christian thing to do."

"He's not a Christian!" Remus exclaimed, furious. "He wasn't brought up as a Christian! The Dursleys denied him even that! The only thing Harry understands about Christians is what little he's learned from Hermione, and the years of persecution they've inflicted on us Wizards. They're the reason we rarely mix with muggles, for Merlin's sake!"

Remus stopped and calmed himself with a visible effort. Then, moving closer to Hermione, he looked into her eyes. "Use that vaunted intelligence that you're famous for and ask yourself this question. Would Harry really want to help those people? Especially after all they've done to him?" he asked in a gentler tone.

Hermione shook her head and clung to her father.

"It's time for you to start looking before you leap, Hermione. Harry's learning to control his impulsiveness. You, however, are not and it may cost Harry his life. This is the second time you've nearly killed him. What more will it take for you to become more circumspect?"

Remus straightened and looked at Dan. He had said what needed to be said, and if he had been harsh, he felt he was justified, under the circumstances.

If Harry survived, the rest was up to Hermione. She could either take his words as they were meant and modify her behavior, or continue to jeopardized Harry's life and everything he was trying to do by acting so impetuously.

"What now?" Dan asked.

Remus ran a tired hand through his silvery hair and shrugged, then he sat on a chair heavily. "We wait," he said with an explosive breath. Tonks sat next to him and grabbed his hand. He glance over at her, then leaned into her. She wrapped both arms around him, giving him the reassurance he craved.

Dan guided Hermione to a seat not far from Remus and made her sit. Emma sat next to her and pulled her into an embrace.

Slowly, other members of the Brotherhood joined them in waiting room. First Neville and Ginny, then Draco arrived with Luna and Narcissa. Each gave and received what comfort they could from each other.

Hours dragged on.

Finally, Danni walked out one of the doors, looking very tired. With her was an older woman with graying hair, also dressed in healer green. Danni looked around, then pointed in Hermione's direction and led the way to weeping young woman.

"Lady Potter?" asked the older healer.

Hermione looked up at her and wiped the tears from her eyes before nodding.

"I'm Sylvia August, chief healer for Haven Hospital."

"How is he?" asked Hermione. It was a question everyone wanted an answer to, and all were fearful of the reply.

"I won't pull any punches. He's in serious condition, having undergone five hours of magical surgery to rebuild parts of his lung and rib cage. His youth and strength are factors in his favor. He was shot at close range by a muggle handgun, a real nasty piece of work, if you don't mind me saying. But we've managed to piece him back together."

Hermione closed her eyes and whispered a prayer of thanks. Around her, the others did the same.

"When can I see him?" she asked.

Healer August frowned. "He's in a magical coma right now and we don't intend to lift it until tomorrow noon, at the earliest. You can come back then and sit with him if you like, but I don't really expect him to awaken until the day after tomorrow. Our biggest worry right now is infection and making sure his damaged lung continues to supply him with enough oxygen. But I can assure you, we have someone with him at all times."

Hermione looked over at her parents, her expression one of bewilderment.

"Dear, we'll come back tomorrow," Emma suggested.

Hermione nodded mutely, while Dan stood and thanked the two healers. Danni pressed a potion bottle into his hand. "For Hermione. It will help her sleep," she whispered.

Dan nodded his thanks, helped Hermione to her feet, sighed and shook his head. A lot of angry words had been spoken and he was sure it was only the beginning. This is the last thing we need, he thought. We need to work together, not fight with each other.



Authors Notes:

Hi Guys! I bet you were expecting this file in a month. SUPRISE!!!

It's time once again for the dreaded Authors notes. Where we inflict upon you, our dear readers, our caustic wit, our raging sarcasm and our bottled water. (BUY BOB'S WATER, IT'S CLEAN, AND IT TASTES LIKE WATER!)

OK We'd like to thank everyone in Wales that kindly pointed out that they have an east coast, not a west coast. It gets a little cornfusing if you ask me. From Wales, we are west of them, but from us, they are east of us. I think they need to get their act together.

Ummm to the person wanting to know if we'd see Dudley again, the answer is yes. He appears in a brief cameo before shuffling off to his new career as a cruise ship entertainment director. He'll not appear again in this series even if he remains a subject of debate.

A personal note to Sterling who proceeded to explain in great detail how much he disliked our characterization of Ron and Dumbledore in Sunset, and now, despite hating the series is back complaining about Sunrise. Sterling, there are other fan fictions you can read. I hear the Itchy and Scratchy fics are quite amusing and usually to canon.

You'll find a little more information about the Hammer of God spell in this chapter.

Are people really positive Wales has no east coast? What if way back when they goofed and West should be East and East West? For that matter how come so many things taste like chicken?

Harry's leg will continue to be an issue. Part of the reason why we are leaving it this way is because it forces us to be a little more inventive with the final battle. He does have a spell that he can use that will give him the mobility he needs. The downside of that is the longer he uses, the more permanent damage it will do to his leg. I know some of you dislike the fact that he's lame in one leg, but as Eocho put it, when your up against a stronger foe, guile is your best weapon.

Eocho's reaction to Hermione's bonding is explained in this chapter. But remember the time he is from, punishments for rule breaking were brutal in his time. He is a product of those times and while he'll eventually mellow, he can't totally forget where he's from.

I believe there is someone on our Yahoo group that is posting the files in PDF format. Check there.

The reasoning why Harry blew up part of the Island was pushed back to this chapter and is explained here. Had we not pushed it back, the chapter would have been longer than it was. As it is, this is another large chapter.

Why didn't Harry and company retake the Azkaban fortress? I had thought I made it clear at the briefing that they weren't sure what kind of defenses were in place at the fortress. Assaulting a heavily fortified position is a great way of losing your fighting force and that castle is heavily fortified.

Rob: I'd answer your review man, but first you need to send me the cliff notes on the review, or maybe I'll wait til the movie comes out.

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