Content Harry Potter
  • Previous
  • Next

Standard Disclaimer:

Bob stared at the screen. It was blank and his expression was one of misery.

"What's the matter?" Alyx asked him. Then she scratched her butt.

Bob watched her for a moment before tearing his eyes away. To him, Alyx's butt was worth watching.

Bob mumbled something and she leaned forward to hear him but she still couldn't make it out. His eyes slipped down from her face to the cleavage she was now exposing by leaning over. Cleavage was even more important than watching her butt.

"Get your mind out of the gutter!" she snapped at him. "Now what is the freaking problem?" she screamed, tearing out clumps of her hair in frustration.

"It's time for me to write another disclaimer!" Bob moaned in desperation.

"Alright, so write it already!" she snapped at him.

"I don't know what to write!" He moaned, then he grabbed his head to keep it from exploding.

Alyx backed away. The last time Bob's head exploded, it had taken a week to clean up the mess.

"So, do something quick and dirty! They want the story, not the disclaimer!" Alyx said, still backing up.

Bob nodded. "Give me a drum roll please," he called.

Alyx rolled a drum around the room and Bob rolled his eyes at her.

Up on the stage, Albus Dumbledore appeared and he seemed to be chased by a neon green super sized butt plug. The type with barbs on them so you can't get it out.

Dumbledore looked around in fear, then saw the audience. "They don't own anything!" he shouted, then ran off the stage with the butt plug chasing him.

Alyx stared at the stage in horror, then turned to look at Bob. "What in the name of all nine hells was that?" she asked curiously.

"Quick and Dirty," he replied smugly.


Sunrise Over Britain
Chapter 20

Haven Operations Center, The Brotherhood Brigade Assembly Area...

Harry slowly lifted his head off Hermione's shoulder. He had grabbed her and held onto her not long after they had arrived back at Haven. He wasn't sure, but he thought he might have actually dozed a little in her arms.

He started to pull away, but she tightened her hold on him.

"Relax, love. Remus has gone off to find a healer for you. You're in no shape to be moving around right now," she sent him.

"I can't go to the hospital..."

"I know that, Harry. You're too stubborn for your own good, do you know that?"

"I know, but your just as stubborn."

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"Am not!"

"Do you two want to continue your silent fight or can we let the healer look over Harry's leg?" Tonks asked, startling both of them.

"How did you know we were fighting?" Hermione asked softly.

"Simple. You look just like Remy and I when we're fighting. We just make more noise than you do," she said, smirking.

Harry rolled his eyes and turned to look at the healer, who was already cutting away the leg of his pants.

"Hello, Sam," Harry said, recognizing the healer.

"Good morning to you, Commander. I'm pleased to see you made it out of the fight almost intact," Sam replied while running a set of diagnostic spells on his leg. He frowned. "You've badly strained the muscles and stretched more than a few ligaments, sir. Let me guess, bad landing with the portkey?"

Harry blushed and nodded, shamefaced.

"Well, there isn't much we can do for injuries like this except give you something for the pain and keep you off the leg for the next couple days," Sam said mildly, then his manner turned very serious. "I mean it, Commander. Injuries like this are pernicious. The more you strain your leg, the longer it will take for you to recover."

"I'll see he stays in bed," Hermione said.

Harry frowned. "Love, we can't. Not today, not yet. There are debriefings still to handle. Draco's injured so I can't ask him to fill in for me."

Harry motioned and Hermione turned to see Caleb striding up to them. He seemed rather pleased with himself.

Hermione glared down at Harry, then over to Caleb.

Spotting her expression, Caleb's stride slowed considerably. He frowned, spotting Harry sitting on the floor with a healer bending over his leg.

"My Lord? Are you injured?" Caleb asked.

"Yes, he is," Hermione said coldly.

"I'm fine," Harry said at the same time. The two glared at each other.

Sam stood and turned to face Caleb. "Sir, the Commander has badly taxed an old leg injury and he needs a few days bed rest to heal. The injury is painful, but not life threatening."

Harry glared up at Sam, who shrugged off his glare. "I'm sorry, Commander, but it's my job to see that you are - and remain - healthy," he said.

Harry looked up, appealing to Caleb, who just shook his head.

"My Lord, as of right now you're on medical leave," he said, then he turned to Sam. "Is a week sufficient?"

"Yes, Sir, a week would fix him right up," the healer replied nervously. Somehow he had managed to get himself stuck in an argument between the two top commanders of the war.

Harry started to protest, but Caleb cut him off. "I'm not ordering you to bed for a week, Harry. I'm ordering you off that leg. In the meantime, I'm sure Lady Potter here can help you write up your after action report. After all, it's your leg that's injured, not your mind, or your hands."

Hermione blinked and nodded vigorously.

Sam stepped forward. "Unlike Commander Newman, I am ordering you to your bed, my Lord. Two days minimum, three if possible. And I want your regular healer to see you as soon as possible. As soon as you can leave the Operations center, go home, take a hot soak and get someone to help you into bed."

"I'll take care of that," murmured Hermione.

"Alright, alright. I can't fight all of you," Harry said, conceding. "Is sitting alright?" he asked Sam.

"Yes, you should be fine sitting, but I meant what I said. Get help when you move about for the next two or three days. I don't want you putting any weight on that leg."

Harry looked up at Caleb. "You'll keep me informed as to what is going on?"

"I will. I'll either send word, or stop by the Manor myself. I'll also tell Amelia that you've been laid up and the morning briefings are canceled for the next two days. Meanwhile, I'm ordering both your unit and Stanton's to stand down for a week."

Harry nodded in resignation. He could fight one of them, perhaps two, but he couldn't fight all of them. To make matters worse, he could see both Tonks and Remus creeping up on them and both looked ready to jump into the conversation.

Harry looked over at Draco. A healer had worked on his shoulder and he was sitting up, flexing his arm. It looked like someone had attended to Neville's arm, as well. The Brotherhood was battered, but certainly not beaten, and they were ready to leave the Operations Center.

Harry reached for his staff and he shrunk it back down to wand size before holstering it. Then he looked up at Remus. "Care to give me a hand up?"


Padfoot Manor...

The manor seems especially empty without Harry and Hermione in it, thought Dan Granger.

He and Emma had gotten up at dawn. They knew there was a large operation planned for today and that their children would be involved. Neither expected that waiting at home would be this difficult. Barely an hour after dawn they met up with Narcissa, who seemed to be doing the same thing they were. Waiting and worrying.

Time seemed to flow past at a snail's pace. The three had an early breakfast, then tried to do a little studying in the sitting room. Narcissa read from her healer texts, while Dan and Emma did their homework, he in transfiguration, she in charms. None were capable of concentrating very well. After an hour, by a silent mutual agreement, they all gave up on attempting to read and sat back to wait.

They had been in the main sitting room for nearly five hours before they heard a disturbance in the grand foyer. Emma placed her cup of tea on the small table next to her chair and bolted out of the room, pushing her way past Dan, who nearly fell over.

Emma burst into the foyer and swept Hermione into her arms, weeping with relief. Dan and Narcissa appeared right behind her.

Narcissa glanced over the group with a practiced eye. She seemed surprised to find a very grumpy Harry Potter sitting on a stretcher that Neville and Remus were levitating. Draco seemed paler than usual and Neville was favoring his arm. In fact, they all looked like they'd had a rough morning.

A house elf appeared with a pop and handed Narcissa her potion bag.

Before Hermione had the chance to speak, Emma released her into Dan's embrace and turned to embrace Harry. Harry's expression altered from annoyance to pleased surprise. He leaned into her hug until she released him, then she looked at him floating on the stretcher.

"What did you do this time, Harry?" she asked sternly, hands on her hips and sounding frightfully like Hermione.

"He landed wrong and injured his leg, Mum," Hermione answered for him. Harry shot her a death glare, but she was immune to it.

People used to run when I glared, he thought. Well, maybe not Hermione, but still...

Narcissa eyed Harry again, then made her decision. "Alright, you lot, into the dinning room for a snack. Then it's a light sleeping potion and a nap for everyone. Oh, and I'll want to check everyone before bed," she said, her expression stern enough to ward off any arguments.

Narcissa and Dan herded everyone into the room, where Dobby was directing the house elves in putting out a light meal. Harry sighed with relief when Remus floated him into a chair. The change of angle at the knee brought him some additional relief.

House elves bustled about the room serving hot drinks and putting food on the table. But no one was really all that hungry. Harry put some food on his plate and ate half-heartedly.

"I never thought it would be like that," whispered Ginny. She was paler than usual and her hands trembled. Neville wrapped an arm around her shoulders and she leaned into him, closing her eyes.

"The next few days are bound to be difficult for everyone," Remus said quietly. "I suggest we take it easy for now. But talk to your partner if it gets to be too much."

Eocho drifted in through a wall and he eyed his Brotherhood. He had molded them, changed them in ways they wouldn't understand for years to come. In a way, they were his children and his pride in them knew no bounds today.

"The outcome of battle affects us each in different ways. People celebrate our victory, while the fighters heal and rest. Our time of celebration comes not after the battle, but after the war, when we can sit back, relax and raise our goblets in memory of those that have gone on before us," Eocho said softly, then he turned to Ginny and drifted closer. "Do not be afraid to weep, my daughter. You have seen and done terrible things; things you fear will stain your soul. They will haunt you, but your soul remains pure, child. Use the knowledge you have gained this day to harden your heart to the tasks ahead of you. This is but one battle of many to come."

Ginny had looked up when Eocho first started to speak. When he finished, she released Neville, wiped away her tears and nodded to her mentor.

Conversation in the room began shortly afterwards, as if Eocho's words had breathed life back into them.

Harry ate quietly next to Hermione, listening to the conversation flow around him. He glanced up at Eocho gratefully and was surprised when his spectral mentor winked back at him. A small pop by his side signaled the arrival of a house elf. When he turned and accepted the folded note, the elf vanished with a pop.

He opened the note, never noticing the drop in conversation around him, and read it carefully. Then he looked up.

"What is it?" Hermione asked worriedly.

"It's the numbers. They aren't firm yet, but it should be fairly accurate," he replied softly.

"Well, don't just stare at us, Harry. What are they?" Tonks exclaimed in exasperation.

Harry unfolded the note again. "The total number of wounded from both units, two hundred and thirty seven, fifty four dead, another twenty eight kissed," he said quietly. He paused and looked around the room before dropping his eyes to the note again.

"Total rescued: Three thousand, nine hundred and fifty six people. Over five hundred were children.

"Preliminary estimates suggest that over eleven hundred Death Eaters were killed, counting the guard force."

He looked up from the note and let it drop from his hands to the table. Everyone was trying to understand the numbers.

"It sounds so cold. Four thousand people? How do you put that into something you can understand?" asked Emma in an awed voice.

"You don't," replied Luna seriously. "It would have been a victory if we'd rescued only one person. The numbers mean little. What matters is the lives that will go on because of this morning."

Everyone turned to stare at the blond witch.

Her eyes sharp, she met the gaze of each person in the room. Then she shrugged her shoulders, blinked twice, and her expression became vague and slightly dreamy once more.


Hogwarts Castle...

Lucius Malfoy bowed and moved off to the one side of the Great Hall where he could watch the show. He had just finished giving Voldemort a report on the morning's activities. His own troops had arrived far too late to help Mulciber's men and he had been certain that Mulciber had not reported this latest defeat to the Dark Lord.

But Lucius had. And he had just finished explaining the morning's events to his master.

"Send for Mulciber," Voldemort said in a voice that dripped with venom.

Several black cloaked figures ran from the room.

Horatio Mulciber paced in his office. Today had been a major disaster and he wasn't sure how to present the news to his master so that it didn't look like his failure.

He jerked to a halt when a pounding came at his door. He rushed to the door and threw it open. "What?" he demanded.

"The Master wishes to see you, immediately," said the Death Eater with a hint of a smirk. Mulciber realized that Voldemort must have heard by now, otherwise the man would have been far more deferential.

He paled, then he pushed past the man, hurrying down to the Great Hall.

He entered the hall and froze. Standing near Voldemort was Lucius Malfoy. That was bad news, but even worse was the fact that his wife, son and daughter stood to the other side of the Dark Lord's throne.

Resisting the urge to soil himself, he rushed forward until he reached the throne, where he bowed deeply. "You summoned me, my Master?"

"Yes, Horatio. I asked for your presence so that you might answer a few simple questions," Voldemort said, silkily.

He glanced nervously at his family, who looked back at him in terror, then he nodded to Voldemort. "O-o-of course, my lord," he stammered.

Voldemort leaned back on his throne and clapped his hands. "Excellent. See? This isn't going to be unpleasant at all!" he proclaimed, then his eyes flared and an aura of deep red, almost black flickered into existence around him.

Mulciber cringed away.

"Now then, Horatio, exactly what happened to the Wizarding camps this morning?" he asked dangerously.

"My lord, we don't have all the facts as yet. I've sent..."

"Crucio," the Dark Lord whispered, his wand pointing at Mulciber's wife. The wand seemed to expand slightly and the woman was flung across the length of the Great Hall. Voldemort looked up in surprise and stared at his smoking wand.

Mulciber's wife hit the far wall with a meaty thump, but managed to maintain consciousness. She slid to the floor and started to laugh and gibber insanely, despite the pain she had to be in.

Mulciber moaned and his children looked at their father with hatred in their eyes.

"I know you lost both camps today, Mulciber, and I know you also lost a large number of my servants. Why are you trying to hide this from me?" Voldemort asked in a deceptively calm tone.

"My Lord, I wanted to have all the facts..."

"Oh, just kill the failure and be done with it," Mulciber's son muttered.

Voldemort glanced at Lucius. His wand was still smoking and he didn't want to risk using it again until he had figured out how to avoid that.

Lucius nodded at the unspoken command and pointed his wand at the young man. "Crucio!" he shouted.

He crumpled to the floor writhing and begging for mercy.

"Foolish child," Voldemort chided. "Do you think you are adult enough to speak in my presence? Do you presume to command me?"

Mulciber bit his lip and watched helplessly as his son started to froth and foam at the mouth.

Voldemort gestured and Lucius lifted the curse. He gazed coldly at the youth on the floor for a moment before turning back to Mulciber. "This is my final warning to you, Horatio. I will not tolerate another failure on your part. Now take your pitiful family and get out of my sight!"

Mulciber helped his son stand, then he bowed and grabbed both his son and daughter, dragging them over to where his wife still lay, gibbering and drooling.

Voldemort watched the man leave with his family and shook his head angrily. If I didn't need the man, I'd consign him to the ritual, he thought to himself.

Voldemort turned to Lucius. "How badly have we been hurt?"

Lucius paled. He didn't want to give this sort of news to him! "Close to fourteen hundred dead, my lord. By the time my forces were aware of the problem and arrived, it was already too late to help."

Voldemort pounded on the arm of his throne. "Damn you, Potter!" he snarled. "Lucius, we must strike back. That brat is making us look like fools."

"Potter and Haven are too well protected, my lord," Malfoy replied in protest.

"Perhaps... Then again, perhaps we should strike back at a target that isn't so well protected..." Voldemort said, his eyes narrowing in thought. "Leave me! I must consider this."

Malfoy bowed and exited the Great Hall, happy that he hadn't been on the receiving end of the Master's anger today.

Voldemort drummed his fingers on the arm of his throne. He couldn't send Death Eaters against Haven, and he already had people causing trouble there. Perhaps he could attack the muggle government somehow? It was worth thinking about.

He glanced down at his wand. It still smoked slightly and he smiled. His power was obviously growing, but he was unsure about the stability of his wand. It was something of a concern. Wandless magic was an option, but he'd never gained the focus needed for the skill; he'd never needed to until now.


Haven Operations Center...

It was nearly seven in the evening when Terry knocked and opened the door to Caleb's office.

Caleb looked up at him, his eyes were bleary with exhaustion and he watched the young man enter.

"Caleb, I have word from the hospital," Terry said quietly.

Both men turned when the door opened again to admit Amelia and Susan into the office.

Caleb rubbed his temples tiredly. "What word do you have?" he asked.

"Healer August reports that all but thirty six of the wounded have been treated and released. Of the thirty six remaining, their injuries will require more care. Fourteen are listed in critical condition. Six more have died, bringing the total killed in action to sixty."

"It's a great achievement, Caleb. You should be proud of what you've done this day," Amelia said gently. "Now go home to your wife and children, they need you as much as you need them."

Caleb nodded and stood. He was so tired he never even noticed that he left them standing there in his office.

Terry smiled at Susan. She was finally out of her morning sickness phase, although it seemed to happen in the early evening more than it did in the morning.

The three stood silently for a moment. It had been a rough day all around and the silence was welcome.

"How did Harry and the others do?" Susan asked finally, breaking the silence.

"He injured his leg again. Draco and Neville were lightly wounded, but they were fine when they left the building," Terry replied.

"Maybe we should go to the manor? I'm sure they're going to have a rough go of it for the next day or two," Susan offered.

Amelia watched her niece and husband discuss it. The people of Potter's Brotherhood were a family unto themselves.

Susan turned to Amelia. "You don't mind, do you, Auntie?"

She waved a hand at the pair. "Go, I'll be fine. Right now you should be close to them."

She watched them leave, then she sat on a chair and considered what tomorrow would bring. The announcements and press releases would greatly cheer everyone. It's fitting to start off the holiday season with good news like this, she thought. The politician in her reveled in the idea of good publicity and what it would do for the war.


Padfoot Manor...

"Welcome home. Master Harry and Miss Hermione wills be so happy to see you," a little elf said, then he proceeded to help Susan and Terry remove their cloaks.

Hermione stopped in the grand foyer and looked at them in surprise. "Susan? What brings you here? Is there something wrong?" she asked. She held a cup of tea in her hand and wore a fuzzy robe and slippers.

Susan walked over and hugged her. "No, there's nothing wrong. We just felt that the next few days might be difficult, and we needed to be here. We couldn't go with you, but we're here now."

Hermione relaxed into her embrace for a moment. "Well, come on in. It's cold enough out there. Some of us are gathered in an upstairs sitting room, just talking."

She glanced over at Terry and noted how well he was walking, although he still needed the cane. "You're moving better, Terry. Come on, everyone will be glad to see you back."

She led the pair upstairs and into a large sitting room. Remus and Tonks and her parents were present, as were Neville and Ginny. Hermione sat on the rug between her parents and placed her tea on the table.

"Terry! Susan! Come on in," shouted Neville. Ginny looked up and smiled at the couple.

Terry looked around suspiciously. "Where's Harry?" he asked.

"Hermione slipped him a heavier dose of sleeping potion. He's not allowed to put any weight on his leg for two days," Ginny replied with a grin. For some strange reason, slipping Harry a sleeping potion tickled her fancy.

Hermione turned to Ginny. "Why does my slipping Harry sleeping potion amuse you so much?" she asked curiously.

Ginny scowled. "Sometimes he makes me so mad. I'm glad you have to deal with him and not me, Hermione. Today, while we were placing out the traps, he and I spoke. I could see he was in a lot of pain. His pain relief potion bottle was nearly empty, he had been using it that often. And yet he refused to admit he was in any kind of trouble. Merlin knows I like a stubborn man, I married one myself, but Harry takes stubbornness to an art form."

Remus laughed. "Lily often said the same thing about James," he told them.

Neville looked over at his wife and grinned. "I'm not stubborn," he replied stubbornly.

Hermione grinned. He denied his pain to others, but not her, thought she didn't tell those in the room that fact. He hadn't discussed it in the field, of course, but later, in the privacy of their bedroom, he hadn't attempt to hide the pain he was in. It was, in her mind, just another way he showed her how much he cared, by dropping the barriers he'd built to let her in.

Terry led Susan to a chair near the fire while the others talked. When he sat down, Susan promptly sat on his lap.

One of the by products of her pregnancy was she always seemed cold. She stoked the fire with her wand and then snuggled back into her husband's embrace.

"So how are you guys?" Terry asked them seriously, his arms tightening around Susan.

Ginny looked down at her feet. "I've had so many mood swings in the past eight hours I'd swear I was pregnant," she said in a whisper.

Neville turned his head and looked at his wife sharply.

"Don't worry, I'm not," she said. Then her grin turned impish. "Yet," she added with a sparkle in her eye.

Neville grinned and kissed her forehead. "Good. Mind you, I want kids, just not right now. Perhaps after I get my mastery in Herbology," he replied, then he leaned over and squeezed her shoulder comfortingly.

"It wasn't anything like I expected," Tonks said. "It's all a jumble, noises, lights, like it's all out of focus. And the faces of the prisoners. I don't think I will ever forget those faces."

Several of the others nodded in somber agreement. Ginny shuddered and leaned against Neville for support.

Dan put his drink on the table and looked over at Tonks. "Nor should you forget those faces. Emma and I weren't there, we can't begin to understand everything. But I do know this much. Those people are the reason we fight. To forget that would be to dishonor them. For the first time I can honestly say I wish we had gone through the training. Being left behind is an awful feeling."

"Oh, no, Daddy. Don't say that," Hermione said, her expression shocked.

"She's right, Dan," Remus offered. "I know it may be difficult to sit here and wait. But for us, knowing your safe is a comfort and one less thing to worry about."

Emma placed her hand over her husband's and looked into his eyes. He closed them and nodded silently. It wasn't easy being left behind.

Hermione stood and bid everyone a good night. She was tired and she wanted to check on Harry. She was pleased to note that he was still sleeping when she got back to their bedroom. He shivered slightly in the bed. She echoed his shiver as she took off her robe. Winter was coming and the night had a chilling bite to it. Climbing in next to him, she cast a warming charm on the bed and made a note to herself to ask the elves to put out the winter weight blankets tomorrow.


Haven and elsewhere (Dec 8th)...

The morning following the attack the residents of Haven woke more subdued than normal. An eerie quiet had descended on the town; even the school children walking to the primary school spoke in hushed tones. Rumors had run rampant all day yesterday once the fighters began to return from the field.

They had rescued a thousand people. No, it was three thousand, which later became ten thousand, with ten thousand Death Eaters killed.

As soon as one rumor swept the town, another followed on its heels. Meanwhile, the spouses of the fighters waited in fear, some clutching their children for comfort.

Sven Johansen took it upon himself to bring the really bad news to people. No one wanted to see Sven knocking at their door.

The morning following the attack was as different as the morning of the attack. Everyone wanted to know just how the operation had faired, so they waited quietly for the group of elves to begin the deliver of The Paper.

When the popping sounds of the delivery elves began and people started to read their morning paper, the citizens of Haven turned out in droves.

The Paper, who's official motto was 'All the news that's fit to print, even if we have to make it up', published a special edition that morning and delivered it to every home in Haven.

British Deal Massive Blow to You-Know-Who
Boy-Who-Lived leads raid to rescue prisoners

In a surprise communique from the British Ministry of Magic in Exile, it was revealed yesterday that forces led by the British successfully stormed two prison camps in Britain, rescuing the prisoners.

Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, led one assault team consisting of over five hundred combat trained Aurors against one of the Wizarding camps in Britain. The raid, which consisted of forces from allied nations, assaulted two prison camps that contained men, women and children. Inside sources claim that a terrible fight ensued at both camps, although allied casualty figures were relatively light.

In the meantime, representatives of the International Red Pentagram have announced that they processed nearly four thousand rescued prisoners. The IRP is refusing to comment on the prisoners conditions, except to say that they will need considerable help to overcome the physical and psychological trauma they have endured.

The muggle British Ministry in Exile issued a statement to the Wizarding press this morning, applauding the action and praising the forces of the allied nations

"Today another four thousand of our people breath the air of freedom," said Amelia Bones, the British Minister for Magic. "They can do so because of the courage and tenacity of our forces. Our forces and those of our allies took the war back to the enemy yesterday, and in doing so, have struck a blow for freedom everywhere. Today, our people begin the long road to recovery, and those still in Britain take heart, knowing we have not forgotten them."

Offers of food, potions, healers and dry goods have flooded into the IRP at record levels. This latest blow against You-Know-Who has convinced many neutral countries to actively support Britain in her time of need.

In related news, Harry Potter was reported to have led the 'Brotherhood Brigade' against the Wizarding camp at Leeds. This Brotherhood Brigade is said to be comprised entirely of specially trained war wizards, wielding magical weapons of awesome power. The Brotherhood is said to be an ancient religious order that Harry Potter has revived for the express purpose of crushing evil everywhere.

When questioned about the Brotherhood Brigade, the British Ministry in Exile admitted the unit was named that, but as to the rest, they refused to confirm or deny any rumors. This is the third time in less than a year that Harry Potter has led an attack against You-Know-Who.

The Irish Ministry confirms that St. Patrick's in Dublin aided the British by accepting some of their wounded.

The Saudi Arabian Government has released photographs of their Calvary aiding in the attack at Wilmslow.

In other news....

The citizens of Haven flooded the town square, some still in their pajamas, celebrating.

The news of the attacks at Leeds and Wilmslow raced around the globe. Offers of supplies and aid to help the rescued prisoners flooded into the Ministry building and into the Headquarters of the International Red Pentagram. Several more countries came on-board, offering Auror support.


Padfoot Manor...

Hermione stretched and reached for Harry, but she found only empty space. She bolted up in the bed and scowled. He knew he was supposed to stay in bed! Throwing off the blankets, she stood up and put on her robe.

"Harry?"

"Good morning, my heart," he replied.

"Don't you 'good morning' me, Mr. Potter. You heard the healer yesterday! What are you doing out of bed and who said you could get up? Where are you?" she asked angrily.

There was a moment of shocked silence across their bond. Then she could feel his amusement, which only made her angrier.

"I'm in my study. As to what I am doing out of bed, I'm with Danni, who just finished looking over my leg. You were still sleeping and we didn't want to disturb you. She's given me a crutch for today and tomorrow and taught me a charm to lock my knee so that the leg doesn't touch the floor. If you want to be angry at someone, come yell at Danni," he said calmly, though she could feel his laughter just below the surface.

Hermione flushed and realized she had jumped to conclusions. "I'm sorry," she sent back to him.

"I know you're only looking out for me, love. If Danni hadn't arrived this morning, I'd probably still be in bed. However, you could have saved yourself the embarrassment and simply asked me what was going on."

"True, but it's a rare day when you listen to the advice of a healer," she chided him, gently. "I'll be right there."

After she'd dressed, Hermione hurried into Harry's study, where she found him moving around unsteadily on a crutch. His leg was bent at the knee so it was well above the floor. Danni walked slowly behind him, watching his gait.

Harry's expression brightened when she entered the room. "Hermione, look! Three legs," he said jokingly.

She smiled slightly. She didn't like seeing him this way and didn't think the problem with his leg was something to joke about.

Finally Danni steered him back into a chair and he sat with a thump.

"It will do for today and tomorrow, Harry," she said seriously. "But you need to go easy for the next two days. I didn't bring the crutch over so you could run all over the manor, either. This is to get you from the bed to the bathroom, and maybe to your study where you can sit and work, but that's it."

Harry looked up at her and nodded. "I realize that, Danni. I don't want to end up using one of these all the time," he replied.

Hermione added her own agreement to Harry's, then she sat in her customary chair. "How are things at the hospital?"

Danni sat in one of the plush armchairs facing Harry's desk and wiped her face tiredly. Dobby appeared next to Harry with a quiet pop. The two spoke quietly for a moment before the elf vanished.

"Honestly, it's a madhouse right now. Nearly every bed is filled and the patients are different than the ones from Azkaban. We have children who have been raped - some of whom are now pregnant — and others who are completely non-responsive. Injuries of every type you can imagine, malnutrition, disease. The healers and medi-witches are barely holding their own with so many to care for, and nearly every patient is recovering from some sort of psychological trauma," she said tiredly.

Dobby appeared and set up a small table in front of Danni, laying out food for the healer. Winky arrived next, serving Harry and Hermione.

Danni looked surprised at the meal appearing before her.

"Eat, Danni. It's obvious your tired. And if I know you, you probably haven't eaten since yesterday morning," Harry said.

"Aren't there enough Healers and volunteers, Danni? I thought the International Red Pentagram was bringing in a lot of extra help?" Hermione asked quietly. Neither of them wanted to think about the consequences of rescuing all those people and being unable to care for them.

Danni took a sip of coffee and nodded. "We have enough staff. Maybe I'm overstating things. It's just that we have so many patients with differing needs. It's..." She waved a hand, helpless to find the words to describe the situation.

"Overwhelming?" Harry offered.

Danni nodded. "Yes, that too. We'll get the mess straightened out. It's just overwhelming right now."

"We need to find better ways for you to move around, Harry. You fall using both the floo and portkeys," Hermione said teasingly, trying to change the tone of the conversation.

Harry laughed. "Isn't that the truth? That's why I much prefer apparation. Or even the Portals. Both work nicely for me, thank you."

Harry looked over at the healer, turning serious again. "I'm sort of at a loss here, Danni. As much as I'd like to help you, I don't know what I can do. I imagine Amelia will be around sometime today. I'll speak to her about getting more help out to the hospital, if you think it would help."

Danni smiled wanly. "I don't think that will be necessary, Harry. I guess I'm just fretting over nothing. Right now we have so many volunteers and helpers, people are climbing over one another. Did you know Olga Johansen showed up yesterday afternoon with about twenty other women? They marched right in and took over the children's ward. That was the only reason why that ward finally settled down yesterday. Between Olga and the other ladies, they got the children settled down, fed and calmed enough for the healers to work on them."

Harry shook his head in amazement. "We really need to do something for the Johansens," he said to Hermione. "They've done so much for the community."

Hermione nodded and turned back to Danni, her expression growing serious. "What will be done with the women and girls who've become pregnant as a result of being raped?"

"I suspect that some will want to abort the pregnancy, Hermione, but most won't," Danni replied quietly. Abortion was a tricky issue in Wizarding society. It was rarely practiced and the only time it was approved was in cases like this, where rape resulted in a pregnancy. It was a stigma for women undergoing the procedure, and potentially damaging to their magic. Many women opted to have the child rather than risk a possible loss of power.

Harry sighed and leaned back on his chair, rubbing a hand tiredly over his head. "I reckon we should have expected that we'd confront issues like this. Merlin knows we weren't expecting issues with the last raid. We prepared ourselves this time, only to run into new issues."

"It can't be helped, Harry," Danni replied, then she stood and placed her tea on the small table Dobby had set up for her. "Thank you for the breakfast, but I'm due back at the hospital in an hour. I still want to catch a shower before I go back to work."

She eyed Harry suspiciously. "Remember what I said. Use the crutch to get from the bed to the bath or study, but no further," she warned.

"I'll behave," Harry replied cheekily.

"Yes, he'll behave," Hermione replied firmly, her eyes boring into his.

Harry shrank back from her glare. He knew she'd make sure he kept his word.

Danni nodded and said her goodbyes before leaving the room. Hermione turned to sort through the mail, putting aside that which needed Harry's attention. When she was done, she handed him his mail to deal with, while she went to get her notes and materials from her study.

She hadn't been kidding. She intended to keep an eye on him today.


British Ministry Building, Office of the Minister, Haven...

"Amelia, do you have a moment?" asked Arthur Weasley from the doorway.

Amelia waved him in. "I hope you're more rested than I am today," she said in a jovial tone.

"Somewhat," he replied. "I visited with Ginny for a few hours last night, then pretty much collapsed into bed when I got home."

Amelia nodded and passed him a cup of tea from her ready service, which the elves kept hot all day long. "Yes, yesterday was pretty stressful for you, for all of us, in fact. Now, then, what brings you here today?"

"I received an interesting dispatch from Department M-Ireland," Arthur said seriously.

Amelia's eyes widened. She pulled her wand, sealed the door and cast several privacy and anti-eavesdropping charms. Every British Embassy had a Department M, which consisted of a Wizard who acted as an intermediary between the Ministry of Magic and the muggles. In normal times, the role of Department M was relegated to helping British Wizards stranded in foreign countries.

The British Embassy in Ireland acted as the contact point between the muggle British Government, the Crown, and the Ministry of Magic in Haven. While there were representatives of the government in Haven, none had access to the secure communications system available at the Embassy.

Amelia reached for the parchment that Arthur was offering her. He resisted the urge to smile as he passed it over.

She scanned the document quickly, a grin appearing as she read. When she was done, she placed the parchment on the desk and carefully made several duplicates of it. Then she looked up, her eyes dancing. "Well, Arthur, will you be able to find a date?" she asked with a laugh.

He blushed. "I believe I might be able to find someone," he said hesitantly. "Amelia, we're going to need to put together a bunch of passports. If you have no objection, I'll contact Department M-Ireland and get them working on it?"

Amelia stood. She held one copy of the precious document in her hand. Others would be given to various department heads or archived. It wasn't often that the Ministry of Magic received praise from the Crown.

"Yes, do that, Arthur. We don't have much time to set this up, so we have our work cut out for us. Harry and Hermione have passports. In fact, I think most of the Brotherhood members do. But some of our department heads probably don't. Let's make it easier on ourselves. Reissue passports for the Brotherhood. I want everyone listed as a diplomat."

Arthur grabbed a copy of the document and nodded. "I'll get right on it." He turned and canceled the locking charm on the door before leaving.


Wizengamot Building, Office of Amhar Coeur de Lion...

Amhar was in a foul mood. The Ministry had run some sort of joint military operation yesterday and they had not informed the Wizengamot about it in advance!

He stared moodily at the Daily Dublin sitting in front of him.

'Harry Potter leads rescue of over six thousand from Britain!' screamed the headline. It felt like a slap in the face.

Potter! he snarled mentally. By the time this war is over Potter will be untouchable if I don't do something about it.

Amhar considered some of the rumors he had heard that morning and he ground his teeth in frustration. The Ministry was becoming more entrenched in it's backward policies, and Harry Potter was achieving hero status among the nations of the world.

He sat back heavily and considered his options. He could call Potter and his cronies to stand before the committee, but the Ministry was resisting his attempts to put together an enforcement arm, citing the fact that because they were on Irish soil there was no need of one. Amhar knew that was a sham. That bitch, Bones, was just doing it so that she could ignore him.

But maybe... Maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to start pulling in Potter's cronies. Maybe if he pressed hard enough, he'd squeeze some damaging admission out of one of them, something he could pin on Potter to take him down.

He reached for several summons forms, then frowned. The committee had called a temporary recess because Andrew Korwin had left Haven, saying he'd be back in a few days. That had been nearly a week ago. Korwin's secretary seemed to think he was ill. But he needed Korwin if he was to bring down any of Potter's people.

He filled out the forms anyway. He was tired of waiting around for the man. He'd restart the hearings without him.

"Stephanie! Get in here!" he shouted to his secretary.

He waited until he heard the sound of the door opening, then he thrust a wad of parchment at her. "See that these are served, and alert the other members of the committee. We're restarting the hearings on December tenth," he said with a barely concealed growl.

Stephanie took the parchments and walked back out of the room.

Amhar admired her gently swaying hips until the door closed behind her. A fine ass, he thought. Too bad she's such a prude. I wouldn't mind having a piece of that, if it weren't for her husband. Although a silencing charm, a quick, hard fuck and an Obliviate might not be amiss. The silly bitch would never know. He shook his head. No, that Auror of a husband of hers might notice the memory loss.

Beyond the now closed door, Stephanie shivered and felt the need for a shower.


Padfoot Manor, Harry's Study...

Harry signed the Gringotts draft, then folded the parchment and sealed it using his family ring. Hedwig winged through the magically charmed window and landed in front of him.

"Hello, girl," he murmured, stroking her soft feathers.

Hedwig nipped at his hand affectionately, nudging him to scratch her head.

"I don't know if I should be jealous or not," Hermione said, looking up from her Arithmancy book and smiling. She'd always loved his owl, how could she not? Hedwig was beautiful, and obviously cared deeply for Harry. She was also convinced that Hedwig was far more intelligent than most owls.

"Don't be jealous, love. You don't see me taking Hedwig to bed. But she is special to me, I can't argue that," he replied.

He carefully tied the letter to Hedwig's leg, then he looked squarely into her eyes. "Don't tire yourself out with this, it's a long trip. And do be careful."

Hedwig bobbed her head twice and flew out the window.

Hermione looked at him inquisitively.

"I received a letter from Sheik Alim Hosary today," he said conversationally.

"Oh? How are things in Egypt?"

"Hot," Harry replied with a wry grin.

Hermione looked at him, her eyes narrowing. He knew that look and knew he was in trouble.

"Er... Well, he writes hoping we're both doing well. He's managed to finally bring the Library staff back up to it's full size, although he admits that some of the new staff will need to be trained. He also says he's worried about the Blood Jihad."

Hermione marked her place, then closed her book and frowned. "Weren't they wiped out at the Library?"

"Only partly. According to the Sheik, the leaders of the organization were all captured in August, but most of the membership got away. Now he says they have a new leader. But rather than causing trouble, they seem to be dropping out of sight. He also mentioned talking to his Chinese counterpart, who mentioned something similar concerning one of the Chinese Magical Tongs."

"Is this something we should be worried about?" Hermione asked, putting her book to one side.

Harry reached down and kneaded his leg slowly. "I don't know. Maybe I should pass this information to Draco and Caleb. It can't hurt for them to know about it."

Hermione watched him massaging his leg. "Sounds like a good idea. Why don't you write a note and give it to Dobby to deliver? Then I think a nice hot soak in the bath is in order. It would do you good."

Harry was about to reply when a knock came from the door. "Come," he called.

Amelia opened the door and entered the room with a huge smile on her face.

"Amelia? What has you grinning like the kneazle that ate the niffler?" asked Hermione.

Crookshanks, who had been sunning himself on the windowsill, looked up for a moment. Not spotting a niffler, he returned to his nap. Humans are so strange, he thought.

As Harry waved her towards a chair, her smile slipped a little when she saw the crutch leaning against his desk.

"Oh, Harry, I'm sorry. I forgot that you were injured."

"Nonsense, Amelia. It was my own clumsiness that caused the injury. Besides, it will be gone by the day after tomorrow," Harry said, dismissing the topic as unimportant.

Amelia could tell from Hermione's expression that he was understating things, as usual.

"Well, here's a bit of good news to lighten the mood then," she said with a grin as she waved a piece of parchment. "This is a letter of thanks and praise from His Majesty. He also commands an audience with you and the other members of your group on December twentieth. He also extends an invitation to attend the Yule Celebration on the twenty-first at the British Embassy in New York."

Hermione grinned widely, practically bouncing in her seat, as Amelia passed the parchment to Harry.

Madam Bones,
We would like to extend our personal note of congratulations to you and the soldiers for their superb performance today. Their courage and resourcefulness is an inspiration to myself and all of our people.

To know that another four thousand of our people have been freed from that tyranny is a blessing during this festive season. We can only pray that the war will be over soon and that we can return to our homes.

Duties permitting, we would like to meet with you and Mr. Potter and his Brotherhood on the twentieth of December at the British Embassy in New York. Following our audience, there will be an informal dinner and we invite you to join us at the Yule celebration on the twenty-first.
Respectfully,
Charles

Harry paled while reading the note, then he passed it to Hermione with a trembling hand.

"Harry?" asked Amelia in alarm.

He looked up at her, as if startled. "I can't meet the King," he said in protest.

Hermione glanced up at her husband and frowned. "Why ever not?"

"What am I supposed to say to him? I don't know how to act when talking to the King! And a Yule celebration?" he stammered.

Hermione bit her tongue to prevent herself from replying. She realized that this was his upbringing talking. He truly didn't feel he was worthy of it. She leaned across his desk and took his hand in her own.

"Relax, my heart. We'll get through this," she sent him calmly.

Harry closed his eyes and breathed deeply a few times. After a tense minute, he opened his eyes and sighed. "Well, I guess we're going to New York before Christmas," he murmured. Then he winced. Hermione was already deep into the idea of organizing a shopping trip for new clothes. "I'll have Remus summon the others for a meeting tonight at dinner," he added, resigned to his fate.

Hermione looked up from the note she was re-reading and frowned at him. "You're not supposed to walk that far yet."

"I won't. I'll apparate," he replied smugly, knowing full well she couldn't argue with that.


Melinda McKinney's Cottage, Haven (Dec 9th)...

The bathroom was still a bit humid from the shower when Melinda McKinny stepped out of the room wrapped in a towel. Once in her bedroom, she shucked the towel, and not wanting to bother, cast a quick drying charm on her body, then another on her hair. Choosing her clothes for the day, she set about dressing.

She had just put on her shoes when Dilly appeared in the doorway of her bedroom.

"Your Mister Minister do be here to see you," Dilly said, her eyes bright.

"Thank you, Dilly. I'll be right out," she replied, smiling with pleasure.

"Dilly will be putting tea on for Melinda and her Mister Minister," the elf informed her.

"That would be lovely. Thank you."

When Dilly disappeared, Melinda grinned. It had taken weeks, and the eventual involvement of Dobby, to persuade Dilly to call her by her given name. The thought of being called Mistress still made her skin crawl. Once she had informed Dilly that they weren't just friends, but a family, the little creature had wept joyously and consented to calling her by her given name.

Standing, she straightened her slacks and tucked in her blouse, then eyed the work robe she'd set out for her shift later that afternoon. With a shrug, she left it on the bed. There was no need to wear it yet.

Leaving the bedroom, she followed the sound of voices and discovered Dilly and Arthur in the kitchen. Arthur had been seated at the table, served tea and cake, and was currently being chided by the elf for not eating enough or getting enough rest.

"Hello, Arthur. What brings you by? Ministry not keeping you busy enough?" Melinda asked, her eyes sparkling.

"According to Dilly, they're keeping me too busy," he said with a laugh. He stood and embraced her, holding her close.

"I'm afraid I have to agree with her," she murmured. "I don't see you nearly as often as I'd like." Standing on her toes, she brushed her lips across his. When he deepened the kiss, she sighed and leaned into him.

Dilly laughed happily and clapped her hands, causing the two humans to spring apart. Arthur glared at the creature for a moment, but Dilly simply smiled at him, then placed tea and cake on the table for Melinda.

"You will be calling Dilly if you be having a need, Melinda," the elf said. She beamed at them both, then vanished.

Arthur blinked for a moment, a bit surprised. "Melinda? You actually got her to call you by your given name?"

"It took some doing, but Dobby and I finally convinced her that family doesn't stand on formality," Melinda told him, taking the seat next to his.

"Family?" Arthur asked as he sat back down.

"Well, she is," she said, a bit defensively.

"I'm not disagreeing with you, I'm just a bit surprised, that's all. Most people commonly think of house elves as nothing more than servants."

"That's their loss. Dilly has a heart as big as Haven, and she's willing to help anyone in need. She felt I needed her, to my great good fortune, and she was right. And while the servant/mistress relationship bothered me a great deal, we managed to work around that problem. Being family means not being so formal with each other. Of course, it also means, in her eyes anyway, that she gets to boss me around. But then, she's always done that."

Arthur laughed, realizing just how true that was. Dilly bossed everyone around.

"As for most people," she continued in mock disdain, "when will you learn that I am no common witch?"

"That's not something I need reminding of," he said gently, brushing his hand across her cheek.

She leaned into his touch and smiled softly.

"I did come here for something specific, however," he continued, then nearly groaned when she leaned closer and kissed his neck. "If you keep that up, I'll never get to it."

Moving away from him slightly, she smiled knowingly. "Oh, I think you'll get around to it eventually."

"Behave yourself, woman. This is serious," he said, his voice gruff.

Her eyes darkened with concern and she sat up straight. "What's wrong? Has something happened?"

"No, it's nothing like that. It's a serious matter, but it's nothing bad," he told her quickly, sorry to see the light in her eyes dim. "I need a date," he blurted out. Seeing her confusion, he muddled on as best he could, trying to make her understand. "I want to date you. In New York. Just before Christmas. You'll need a gown, of course, and time away from the hospital."

When he paused and looked at her hopefully, she could only shake her head in confusion.

"So, you want to date me, but only in New York, just before Christmas?"

"No! Well, yes, but..." He raked his hands through his hair and growled in frustration before trying again. "Several of us have been invited to New York by the King and the Prime Minister. They're holding a Yule celebration at the Embassy there, and they want to meet with us. I want to take you with me. We'll be gone for about three days. I'll only have a few official functions and you'll be able to join me in most of them."

"New York? For three days?" she repeated, her eyes wide. She'd have to talk to Healer August about getting the time off, but Sylvia was sure to agree, especially if she offered to work overtime until her departure.

"We'd be able to spend most of our time together. No interruptions, no children, no patients. And, for a few days, no war. I'll take care of the official paperwork. All you need to do is get the time off, and you'll need a couple of gowns; one for the formal dinner, another for the Yule celebration," he said. Taking her hand in his, he looked into her eyes. "I know this is a lot to think about, but please say you'll come, Melinda."

"I'll come," she said, simply.

"You can get the time off?"

"I'm sure Sylvia will grant me three days. I'll offer to work overtime until we leave."

He scowled. "You work too hard as it is."

"You're one to talk," she chided gently. Before he could speak, she placed a finger over his lips. "Don't, Arthur. I'll be fine. And who knows when we'll have a chance like this again? Finding time to be together is too rare for us to pass up this opportunity."

They spoke for awhile, making plans for their trip. But once Arthur had left, Melinda found herself with a problem. They were invited to a muggle celebration, and she had no idea what she was supposed to wear. Arthur mentioned gowns, but she was unaware of muggle fashions.

"Dilly?" she called, a bit hopefully.

The elf appeared with an arm load of magazines and she danced over to the table. "Dilly be knowing what you be asking for, Melinda, so Dilly did be stopping by Headlines and Beans. Mrs. Lachlan did be letting Dilly borrow these." With that, she dumped the magazines on the table and beamed at her.

With a laugh, Melinda hugged the elf and Dilly crowed with delight.

"I don't suppose you know anything about sewing, do you, Dilly?" she asked as she sorted through the pile on the table.

"Why would Dilly be sewing when she has magic?" the small creature asked, a bit puzzled.

Melinda paused for a moment, then groaned in disgust. "I bragged about not being a common witch and I was right. I'm the only witch who forgets she has a wand!"

When Dilly looked at her oddly, she simply shook her head. "Never mind. Help me go through these. I need to find two gowns."


Sibiu, Transylvania in Romania (Dec 10th)...

Dumbledore balled up The Paper and tossed into the air where it ignited in a flash of fire. In less than a second the paper was incinerated, leaving only pieces of ash floating gently in the air.

That should be my name in the headlines, not Potter's! he thought with a snarl. Here I am, stuck in the middle of no where, training up a militia for hire when I should be using these men for my own purposes!

Dumbledore stood and walked to the window of his tower. On the ramparts below he could see the men training and exercising. He opened his window and fired off a bludgeoning spell, which caught one man and flung him off the rampart.

Dumbledore ignored the cry from the man as he fell to his death. Damn them! I tell them time and time again to be more wary, to be ready for an attack, and still they ignore me! Well, perhaps now they will pay attention, he mused. Then he giggled to himself and danced a little jig around the room.

"Oh, I do hope you enjoy your Christmas, my boy. I've gone to a great deal of trouble with your gift this year, thought it may be late in getting to you. And while I'm sure you won't like, I'll find it exquisite!" he whispered.

He stopped dancing when a knock came at the door.

He walked back to his desk and sat down. Calming himself, he straightened his shoulders and shouted, "Come!"

The door opened and Nickolai entered, followed by his two goons.

"This is good training? Randomly killing one of my men?" Nickolai asked angrily.

"Your men have become lazy, Nickolai. I picked one as an example that they will learn from," Dumbledore replied stiffly, then he twisted slightly in his chair and suppressed the urge to giggle in front of the mobster wizard.

Nickolai looked at him thoughtfully for a moment then he nodded and smiled. "It is a good Soviet way of training, yes? Take one man and shoot him, that convinces the others to work harder."

Dumbledore returned Nickolai's grin, then he turned around in his chair, reaching for a bottle and two glasses. He placed the two glasses out in front of Nickolai on his desk and poured two shots.

"I'm glad you agree," Dumbledore said smoothly, then he picked up a glass and offered it to Nickolai.

The mobster arched an eyebrow and with a silky smile he reached for the un-offered glass still on the desk. Dumbledore blinked and his smile broadened. Nickolai is a cagey bastard, he thought. It will take guile to rid myself of him.

The two men tossed back their drinks, then Dumbledore stood and walked around the desk. "Come, Nickolai, let me show you around and show you what your men have learned."

"When do you think you'll be ready with them?"

"Just after New Years day, I'm sure," Dumbledore replied with a smile.

Good. I have time still before I have to deal with the great Albus Dumbledore, thought Nickolai.

I doubt that you'll be able to, my friend, Dumbledore said to himself. These people never learn to control their thoughts around a legilimens.

He waved Nickolai forward and together they left the small tower office, each plotting the downfall of the other.


Wizengamot Investigative Committee...

Amhar took his seat and glanced sourly at the empty spot where Andrew Korwin should have been. Korwin had been missing for nearly two weeks now and it was seriously annoying Amhar. After all, he hadn't paid the man to vanish on him like this.

He then glanced down at the man sitting at the witness table and scowled. This was going to get messy today, he was sure of it.

He lifted a sheet of parchment and was about to speak when the door opened and Andrew Korwin walked in and took his regular chair. The man definitely wasn't looking well. He had a thin fringe of sweat along his brow and his skin color bordered on white.

"Councilor Korwin," Amhar said smoothly, looking at the man. "I think I speak for all of us in the committee when I say we're pleased to see you back. But are you sure you are well enough to attend these proceedings?"

Korwin leaned forward slightly. "Thank you for your concern, but I can assure you that my healer has said I'm fit to return to my duties," he replied in a shaky voice.

Amhar nodded. He could clearly see that the man was still recovering from an illness. Although he didn't normally care about the health of his colleagues, he found himself pleased by Korwin's obvious lack of health. Since the man's disappearance, a tight knot of worry had begun to form in his chest. With his return, that worry melted away.

He turned back the witness table and nearly grimaced in revulsion. "State your name and occupation for the record," he said brusquely.

"Remus John Lupin. I'm Lord Potter's chief of staff and I also function as a financial adviser to Lord Potter," Remus said calmly.

"Ah, yes, you're the one who oversaw the construction of Haven, did you not?" asked one of the neutrals.

"Yes, sir, that is correct."

"And when did the construction of Haven begin, Mr. Lupin?"

"In early December of last year, sir. I made several large land purchases around the Manor and contracted a local construction company to erect the housing units."

Amhar leaned forward. "Tell me, Mr. Lupin, did you at any time council Lord Potter to warn the Ministry about the upcoming attack?"

"No, sir, I did not."

"Why ever not?" asked one of the neutrals in surprise.

Remus looked at her for a moment then shrugged. "Because it would have accomplished nothing. Minister Fudge was more interested in maintaining his own power and prestige than he was in protecting the common wizard and witch. Besides, we had several prophecies from unimpeachable sources that told us that any warning we gave would not have changed the outcome."

"Yes, we've heard about these prophecies," murmured Amhar sourly. He had tried to find out more information and had run into the stonewall of the Official Secrets Act.

Remus sat placidly in his chair. He knew Amhar was annoyed by the fact that he couldn't find out more about the prophecies, but it wouldn't do for him to rub his nose in it.

"Mr. Lupin, how much did Lord Potter spend on constructing Haven, and does he honestly expect the Government to pay him back?" asked Lillias McFerrson, one of the committee's neutral members.

Remus looked startled and he leaned forward over the table he sat behind. "Councilor, the construction of Haven, including the purchases of lands and the building of the town, cost Lord Potter between one hundred twenty and one hundred thirty million galleons. I do not have the exact figures with me.

"As to any sort of payback, Lord Potter has never asked for any and would be appalled by the very idea. He neither expects, nor wants, the Ministry to pay him back for his expenses. After the war, Haven will become a new Irish wizarding town and Lord Potter will be the sole landlord. For the duration of the war, however, people will continue to live here at no cost."

Councilor McFerrson made a few notes, pleased with Lupin's answers, before looking up once more to meet his gaze. "And what of the monies he has given to the Ministry?"

"Those are loans, Councilor. Had he not funded the Ministry, it would have been unable to function. I helped negotiate those loans myself. They are long term, with modest interest rates, and need not start the pay back schedule until after the successful conclusion to the war.

"As an additional point, I'll add that it was on Lord Potter's word that the Ministry was able to secure additional funding from Gringotts," Remus added as an afterthought.

"Just how is it that Lord Potter has access to his wealth, when all the rest of us became paupers when the country fell?" demanded Amhar icily. He hated dealing with this dark animal.

"Last Christmas season, Lord Potter transferred the bulk of his wealth, and that of several others, to the Stonewall Lane branch of Gringotts. He warned Ragnok of what was coming and, unlike our Ministry, Gringotts heeded his advice. If you recall, Councilor, Gringotts sent out a notice to all their account holders suggesting that relocation to a branch off shore would be a prudent move. From what Ragnok was willing to tell me when I spoke to him last, less than one percent of the account holders moved their assets."

"Potter was willing to tell Gringotts, but he wasn't willing to tell the Ministry!" exclaimed Amhar.

Remus smiled and said nothing for a moment.

"Councilor, you are aware that the Ministry of Magic is one of Gringotts largest account holders? While I cannot speak for Gringotts officially, there is no doubt in my mind that they received the same notice from Gringotts that everyone did, warning them of upcoming unrest. One of Harry's reasons for warning Gringotts was that he knew they would warn the government. He knew Minister Fudge would ignore any warning he might have tried to give personally," Remus replied reasonably.

Amhar frowned. There was nothing he could do about the Gringotts connection. It irked him because he did remember receiving a notice from the bank, which he tossed in his fireplace. At the time he thought it was quite presumptuous of those nasty Goblins to offer advice on how he should handle his money.

"Lord Potter inherited quite a large estate from the Black Family, including controlling interest in a number of companies. What has he done with most of that?" Amhar asked, trying a different approach.

"If you are referring to companies like Darke Dirks and Potions, Lord Potter divested the Black Estate of most of its holdings as soon as he was able to. In one case, he kept the company, but instituted new management and turned the direction of the company around entirely. BMR Security has been renamed to BP Security, purging the Malfoy and Rookwood interests, and is now one of the largest Wizarding security firms on the continent, offering armed guards, warding and protective services. The days of it being a place to hire hit wizards are long gone."

Amhar scowled, his calm composure started to crack. "You seem to have an answer for everything, werewolf!" he snapped.

"Mr. Chairman! I protest this unseemly behavior!" protested Trenton Largo. "Mr. Lupin has been shown to be free of his disease. As you recall, you even had Healer August in here to testify to that effect."

It was clear from Largo's tone that he felt this line of questioning, as well as the questioning of Healer August, was a waste of time.

Amhar turned to glare at Largo. "I am trying, Councilor, to ascertain if Mr. Lupin is indeed still a dark creature. He refuses to explain how he was cured. I have spoken with the Healers at St. Patrick's and they assure me that there is no cure! So how did he do it? Some dark ritual, perhaps?"

"Councilor," Remus said mildly, "while the details of my cure are covered by the Official Secrets Act, I can assure you, no dark rites were performed."

Amhar's head whipped around. "You will answer my questions when I put them to you Mr. Lupin," he sneered, "and not until then. In the meantime, hold your tongue, or I will hold you in contempt."

Remus sat stiffly for a moment, then nodded. He was seriously considering walking out, even though he knew it would forever cause problems between Harry and the Wizengamot if he did. The fool's attitude needed serious readjusting, he thought angrily.

"I will remind you, Mr. Lupin, you are under oath here. Now then, did you engage in dark magic in order to cure your Lycanthropy?" Amhar asked with a sneer.

Trenton Largo shot to his feet and banged his fist on his desk, causing everyone to jump. "This is madness and I protest. Mr. Lupin, I excuse you from further testimony. Mr Chairman, need I remind you of the fact that, under Article Sixteen of the Official Secrets Act, I can levy a charge of treason upon you for even attempting to force Mr. Lupin to answer that question?"

Largo was breathing heavily and he was white with anger. He glared at Amhar and Amhar knew he had pushed too far today. He couldn't risk his position yet.

"The witness is excused," he growled. "The committee is recessed for now."

Remus stood and nodded at Largo who shot him a weak smile and shrugged. Remus shook his head and walked out the door. As he closed the door behind him, he could clearly hear the sounds of shouting. Coeur de Lion and Largo were yelling at each other.


Potter's Portals, Factory Opening, Haven (Dec 15th)...

Harry and Hermione had finished the tour Charlie had given them, and the three now stood up on a small stage with Amelia, Brogan Mallory and Ragnok in front of a crowd amassed for the dedication and opening of the factory.

Harry blinked in surprise when he saw the size of the crowd. There has to be over a thousand people standing here waiting for a factory opening, he mused.

"Employees and family, my love. You have a lot of people working for you," Hermione sent, a hint of amusement in her tone.

"I have people working for me?"

"Of course you do. Don't you remember your security company? Or any of other companies you have an interest in?"

"Yes... But those are companies my parents and grandparents invested in. They really belong to the Potter and Black estates."

"That's true, but Potter's Portals will also be part of the estate our children and grandchildren inherit. Does it really make a difference, since you own those estates?"

"Well no, not when you put it that way. I just never really thought of it before. Oh, here comes Minister Mallory," he said with a mental snort.

"Be nice, love. He really isn't like Fudge."

"I know, I just can't help it. I don't trust politicians."

"And what about Amelia? You don't trust her?"

"Wench! I hate it when you use logic on me." he mentally growled back at her. He could feel her laughing via their bond.

Mallory stepped up to the podium and gave a short speech, in which he explained how pleased and happy the Irish Ministry was to welcome the opening of Potter's Portals. Then Mallory turned and addressed Ragnok, welcoming him as an equal.

Ragnok blinked in surprise, then he bowed to the Irish Minister.

One by one Harry watched as dignitaries gave their speeches. He was thankful that he wasn't one of them. He had, over Hermione's protests, passed that responsibility to Charlie Weasley.

Finally, Charlie stepped up to the podium. "Employees and families, honored guests and members of the press, welcome to the grand opening of Potter's Portals. What you see today is the culmination of a dream of one person. Harry Potter designed and built the first set of portals. In doing so, he opened up a whole new way of transportation for us. Today you see the heavy freight factory. In the future, however, Potter's Portals will be as common as the floo, but infinitely more comfortable.

"So without further ado, I declare this factory open!" Charlie said, to the resounding roar of approval from the crowd.

Someone inside the plant activated a charm and a whistle sounded. The doors of the plant opened and the employees entered the building, followed by their families.

Harry and Hermione stood and followed Charlie into the factory. No one was going to work today, of course. Instead, they had set up a huge buffet in the cafeteria area.

Harry walked over to talk to Ragnok. "It is good to see you again. How is Leenar?" he asked the goblin.

Ragnok smiled toothlessly. "She is well, Mr. Potter. She had so wished to attended today. At it is, I was honored to receive your invitation. We were very surprised and quite pleased when you sent word that you had solved the live transport problem."

Harry smiled, trying to fight the urge to squirm under the praise. "I will tell Mr. Weasley to expect to hear from you. He'll arrange tours of the plant for whomever you want, including your lovely Leenar. The live transport problem was solved by redesigning the control pedestal. It was Hermione that pointed out where the problem lay. From there, a fix was easy."

Ragnok nodded knowingly. He had received the reports sent to him by the rune masters Charlie had hired. Part of the partnership included Harry sharing information with the Goblins at Gringotts. It was something Harry and Hermione had pushed for, and was a measure of equality that impressed Ragnok more than anything else about the Potters.

Ragnok turned to Charlie. "Mr. Weasley, can you tell me when you expect the first portals to be built?"

Charlie ran a hand nervously through his hair and thought for a moment. When Remus had given him the job, he had immersed himself into the concept of the portals and what was involved in making them. "Well, Director, I expect we'll have some ready by the end of the month. But this is a new facility, building a brand new device. It would be an error on my part if I didn't expect some problems in the beginning," he said cautiously.

Ragnok nodded appreciatively. "Excellent. We are already ramping up for distribution to our branches world wide. Would it be safe to say you'll be ready to start training operators next month, then?"

"Oh, most assuredly. I was planning on holding back two units for training purposes," he replied.

Harry grinned at Charlie. The change in the man was quite noticeable. Being duped like he was by Dumbledore had left him with serious self confidence issues. In working to build the shelters for Haven, then in being appointed the manager for the plant, his confidence had came roaring back.


Wizengamot Investigative Committee...

Amhar watched the committee's latest witness take her seat with no small amount of glee. Considering what was happening back home, he had been downright ecstatic when he'd discovered that the former Mrs. Malfoy was now living at Potter's mansion.

Amhar waited until Narcissa was seated, then he glanced around to make sure that every one of the councilors were present. He had prepped Korwin before today's session so that Korwin would know what to say and what not to say.

"Now then, Mrs. Malfoy..."

"Excuse me, Councilor. My name is Miss Black," Narcissa said, overriding Amhar.

He glanced sourly at her. "Very well, then. Let the record show the witness is claiming an alias of Narcissa Black."

"Mr. Chairman," Narcissa said, coldly, "I am not claiming any alias. My name is Narcissa Black. The head of the Black family officially approved of my divorce and of the adoption of my son, Draco."

"We have no record of your divorce here, Madam. We'll just have to assume you are telling us the truth," Amhar said snidely.

Narcissa's eyes narrowed and she stared up at Amhar for a moment. "Of course, Mr. Chairman. I know you are aware of my relationship with Lucius Malfoy. After all, it was you who gave us those marvelous crystal decanters and toasted Lucius and myself at our wedding, wasn't it? In fact, you called Lucius your 'oldest and dearest friend', if I remember correctly."

Amhar gazed down at Narcissa, his expression calculating. She gazed back at him, unblinkingly.

"Miss Black, might it be safe to assume that you have copies of your divorce decree in your possession back at the manor house?" asked Trenton Largo. Largo sounded as though he were struggling to hide his amusement. After all, it wasn't often the committee had a witness who could so easily put Amhar in his place.

"I do, Councilor. If you like, I can see to it that a copy of the decree is sent over to the committee later today," Narcissa replied.

"Madam, this is getting far afield of what we planned to discussing. When was the last time you heard from your husband?" Korwin asked.

Narcissa turned to look at Korwin and he quailed under her gaze. "I have not heard from my ex-husband since before he was captured in that idiotic raid on the Ministry. I did not attend his hearing, nor did I visit him in Azkaban. In fact, I understand he has a price on my head of ten thousand galleons," she replied, her tone making it clear that the such a small amount was an insult to her.

"You've not heard from him in over a year and he's put a death warrant out on you?" asked Lilias McFerrson in surprise.

"Yes, Councilor. He has death warrants out on both myself and my son at this point."

McFerrson turned to Amhar. "Mr. Chairman, I don't understand. Did you not tell us that the witness was in contact with her husband only recently?"

"So my sources informed me, Councilor McFerrson. Even if they are wrong, don't you find it suspicious that someone so closely related to the Malfoy line is involved, however indirectly, with the running of Haven and the war effort?" he replied smoothly.

McFerrson leaned back on her chair and nodded thoughtfully.

Amhar smiled at the neutral Councilor, then turned back to Narcissa. "I understand, Madam, that you currently reside at Potter's manor house."

"Yes. Lord Potter invited me to stay up at the manor so I could be close to my son and daughter-in-law."

"And what do you do up there all day, Madam?" Amhar asked.

Narcissa sat for a moment. "For the most part, I study, Councilor. With the help of Lord Potter, I have been accepted as a Healer apprentice at the hospital. I've also been instructing both Lord and Lady Potter. It is common knowledge that neither of them grew up exposed to our ways."

"Yes, Lady Potter is muggle born. She wouldn't know of our traditions," Amhar said with a sneer.

"Lady Potter is not muggle born, Councilor. It is true that she lacks knowledge of our ways, but I can assure you, she is not muggle born."

"Madam, Lady Potter's parents are not on the roles of pure bloods in any Wizarding Ministry we've been able to check. Point of fact, Lady Potter's parents, according to her Hogwarts records, are muggles. Now how do you suppose a pair of muggles suddenly became magical?" Amhar asked, hoping something would slip out.

Narcissa looked up at Amhar, her expression completely innocent. "I don't know how it happened, Mr. Chairman. I only know that it did and the process is covered under the Secrets Act. For all I know, they used magic," she replied with an impish smile.

Trenton Largo barked out a laugh before he could contain it. He bent over and started to cough, while Lilias McFerrson smiled at Narcissa. This witness was proving to be more entertaining than the others.

Amhar's face flushed with rage. He surged to his feet. "Perhaps it happened because you instructed them in a dark ritual, Madam!"

Narcissa looked up at Amhar as if he were some sort of bug that needed to be squished.

"I'm waiting for your answer, Madam," Amhar said icily.

"And I'm waiting for your apology, Mr. Chairman. I know full well what rules of behavior you can operate under and you have slandered me, sir. If I do not hear your apology, I am within my rights to take several actions against you. Or I can place the matter in the hands of my family head. I'm sure Lord Potter-Black would take a dim view of your accusations," she replied. Her blue eyes widened in amazement as an idea struck her. "He might even challenge you to duel, sir," she said, her expression one of mock horror at the very idea.

Several of the committee members turned to stare at Amhar in consternation. He had stepped over a line, again, and this time it might cost him more than just his ego.

Amhar struggled to get his anger in check. "I apologize, Madam. I was out of line with my comments. Now, to get back to the matters at hand. I understand that..."

Narcissa smiled smugly. Although she would never admit it to anyone, she had enjoyed putting the little shit in his place.


Padfoot Manor...

Narcissa walked into the grand foyer of the manor house, and closing the door behind her, breathed a sigh of relief.

An elf appeared a moment later, and helped her out of her cloak. She walked tiredly into the sitting room where she found Harry, Hermione, the Grangers and Draco. All were relaxing from the day. Harry and Draco seemed to be involved in some sort of game that required the levitation of stones over a ghostly board.

She sat in an arm chair and kicked off her shoes. A house elf appeared next to her chair and offered her a cup of tea, which she gratefully accepted. Harry glanced over at her and grinned, then turned back to glare angrily at Draco when the game buzzed loudly and half of his stones vanished from the board.

"Bad day?" asked Emma.

Narcissa closed her eyes briefly and nodded. "You have no idea. I know Amhar Coeur de Lion from way back and he's even more single minded now that he has an objective in mind. I rightly expect you two to be called next," she said, indicating Dan and Emma.

Harry frowned and he glanced at Draco, who nodded and waved his wand, canceling the game.

"Us? What would he want to talk to us about?" asked Dan.

Harry stood and walked over to stand behind Dan's chair. "It's me he wants, isn't it?"

Narcissa nodded. "Yes, Harry, it is. Right now he thinks that the Grangers may have become magical because of some dark ritual. But ultimately, he's looking to take you down, even if it means attacking those around you. He will call each of us, one by one, hoping that one of us will make a mistake and say something he can use against you.

"He accused me of being dark, of being in touch with Lucius, and of aiding you in dark rituals. I finally demanded an apology, and told him that if I did not receive one, I would leave the issue of my besmirched honor in the hands of my head of house, who just might challenge him to a duel."

Harry looked stunned. "You mean I could have challenged him to a duel and put him out of our misery? Why didn't anyone tell me this sooner?"

Hermione winced slightly. "You can't challenge him to a duel just because he annoys you, Harry. There are strict rules, which must be observed, before you can challenge someone like that. Besides, I would really prefer that you don't spend the rest of your life moving from one duel to another. I don't think my nerves could handle it."

"Hermione's right, Harry. You really don't have grounds to challenge him," Narcissa said with a laugh. "Although I do admit it would be one duel I would enjoy watching. I have known Amhar for twenty years now. He prides himself for his prowess on the dueling stage."

"Alright, so I can't duel him, but what are we going to do about him? Quite frankly, I don't like him accusing any part of my family of being dark. He's getting out of hand and it's beginning to annoy me. He all but refused to believe Remus was cured the other day," he said, scowling fiercely.

"Harry, this is part of what one faces in politics. I know you don't like hearing it, but it's something you need to grow accustomed to. In the meantime, the committee will be adjourning in a day or two for the holiday recess and we won't hear from them until after the holidays. As hard as Coeur de Lion pushes, there really is nothing he can find to use against you, or any of us, for that matter.

"His biggest complaint, the pure blood issue, won't wash here in Ireland. And it certainly won't wash under Amelia's administration," explained Narcissa.

Harry walked over to where Hermione was stretched out on a love seat. She pulled her legs off the cushions so he could sit, then she extended her feet over his lap. Almost instinctively he started to rub her feet while he thought about what Narcissa had told him.

Hermione snuggled a little deeper onto the couch and purred slightly.

Harry glanced at her, smiling for a moment, then turned back to Narcissa. "Alright, we have to live with it for now. But I'm tell you all, my days of putting up with bullying politicians is over. He if pushes me to far, I'm going to push back...and he won't like the results," he growled.

"If it comes to that, mate, we'll all help you push back," Draco said, echoing the thoughts of the others in the room.

Harry looked up at Draco, surprised by his icy tone. He was about to say something when the doors burst open and Neville ran into the room, looking pale.

"Hide me!" he moaned.

"What's wrong, Neville?" asked Draco, alarmed.

Neville opened his mouth to say something when they all heard a voice echoing through the manor.

"NEVILLE LONGBOTTOM, YOU STOP RUNNING FROM ME THIS INSTANT!"

Everyone winced and glanced at Neville in sympathy. Neville, however, was too busy cowering behind the love seat where Harry and Hermione sat to notice.

Ginny came tearing into the room, her chest heaving. In one hand she held a black shiny piece of cloth, in the other hand, her wand.

"Neville, you're not running away from me any more! I want answers!" she said, raising her wand.

Harry stood, knocking Hermione's feet to the floor as he blocked Ginny's wand. He shot her an apologetic look before turning to face Ginny once more.

"Put your wand down. You're not going to hex Neville," Harry said, trying hard not to smile.

"Get out of my way, Harry," she said between gritted teeth.

Harry frowned and his wrist twitched. He still hadn't mastered gesture-less casting, but he was coming closer. Ginny's arms snapped to her sides and she glared at Harry, struggling against the full body bind.

"Now, what in the name of Merlin is going on with you two?" Harry asked.

"I found this! In his closet!" Ginny snapped angrily. She couldn't move her arms, but her wrists and neck were free to move. She shook the black cloth.

Draco took it from her hand and held it up. It was a sheer black teddy. His eyes widened as he examined the skimpy outfit.

Dan Granger began to laugh, but most of the women in the room eyed Neville as if they were planning on helping Ginny.

Draco passed the outfit to Harry, who took it gingerly. He looked inside the garment and his expression turned mirthful.

"Say Ginny, did you notice the little tag on the inside of this?" Harry asked.

Ginny turned away from Neville and frowned at him.

He smirked and canceled the binding on her before handing her the negligee.

She looked at the tag, then blushed to the tips of her ears. Closing her eyes for a moment, she straightened her shoulders. With a deep breath, she opened her eyes and walked around the love seat to kneel down to her husband. "Nev, I'm sorry," she whispered.

Neville peered at her. "We really need to talk about your temper, Ginny. You didn't give me time to even explain," he told her softly. In the quiet room, his words were loud enough for all to hear.

"I know," she said, hanging her head.

"You know," Dan said innocently, "muggles have something called anger management. Maybe we can get Ginny into one of their classes."

Everyone but the Longbottoms spun around the glare at him, and he held up his hands as if to ward off a blow.

"It was just a suggestion," he protested.

Neville took Ginny's hand and stood, then he helped her to her feet. He started to lead her out of the room, but Harry stopped him.

"Go easy with her, mate. She's still reacting to the assault," he said, quietly.

Ginny smiled wanly at Harry and Neville nodded. "We'll be fine," he said.

"I know you will, both of you," Harry said. "Have the elves serve you dinner in your room tonight."

Neville's eyes lit up at the suggestion and he led his wife from the room. Harry turned to sit back down, but Hermione held his spot hostage.

"Alright, Potter, what was on the tag?" she asked. It was a question everyone wanted to ask.

He chuckled. "It seems Ginny was snooping for Christmas gifts. The outfit was for her, according to the tag. But all she saw was a skimpy, sexy outfit and her temper did the rest. Judging from her reaction, she didn't know about the name tag. I hope Neville got her more than that, though. Heck, even I know that kind of gift better not be the only one a man gives his wife."

Dan laughed loudly. "That kind of present is more for the husband than it is for the wife. The only worse gift you can give is a vacuum."

"No wonder she was mad at him," Hermione murmured.

Emma and Narcissa nodded in agreement. Hermione glanced at Harry and her eyes narrowed speculatively.

"You didn't," she sent him icily.

"Well, not as the only gift," he sent back, looking sheepish. "Terry found the catalog, and I think we all bought at least one thing from it."

Hermione rolled her eyes and huffed at him. She also refused to move her feet from the love seat.

"Can I help it if I like to see you wear something sexy? Besides, it is not the only thing I bought you, I promise," he sent her.

"We'll see," she replied. She tried hard not to let her amusement leak through their bond, but knew she failed. Reluctantly she removed her feet from the cushion and let him sit back down. Once he'd gotten comfortable, she placed her feet back in his lap. After all, a foot rub was important, wasn't it?


Padfoot Manor (Dec 19th)...

Harry checked his watch one last time, then he rolled up the map and placed it in the small case along with several other items he was bringing with him.

"Dobby?"

Dobby appeared next to Harry a moment later. "Yous called, Master Harry?"

"Yes, Dobby. Would you ask everyone to assemble down in the foyer in ten minutes?"

Dobby nodded and vanished with a small pop.

Harry stood and looked around the office one last time. He was dressed in his finest muggle suit, which Hermione had insisted he buy back during the summer after fifth year. He leaned slightly on his staff. The two days off his feet had helped him a lot. The addition of the healing bath salts sent to the manor by the American healer, Sam, had also helped. The note included with the salts had said that they would help to reduce the everyday stress on his leg, and they did just that.

He made a mental note to find Sam a nice gift while in New York. He had several places he intended to visit while there and some additional gifts to purchase.

He walked out of his study and down the stairs to the foyer, as the others began to arrive. He nodded approvingly, noting that everyone, even Susan, who was now noticeably pregnant, was dressed in muggle style clothing. House elves popped in with their luggage.

"Everyone clear on our story? If asked by a muggle, we work for Department M. His Majesty and the Prime Minister will know the truth about us, and so will several others. If you don't know the person, just assume they're muggles and keep to your cover story."

Harry pulled a long cord out of his pocket. Holding on to one end, he passed the rest to Hermione. "Make sure you have a hold on the portkey," he told them.

Remus grinned. "Next time we do this, we should be able to use your portals, Harry."

"You won't hear me complain. Anything is better than a portkey. Except maybe the floo," he murmured, flashing the older man a grin.

He shrunk his staff and holstered it, then laid a hand on the trunk he and Hermione were using. "Everyone ready? Got your passports?"

Everyone nodded. He looked up the stairs and spotted Narcissa, who had decided not to join them.

"You know how to get in touch with us should you need us?" he asked.

She nodded. "Safe journey, my lord," she said with an impish smile and a slight cutesy.

In a very un-lordish action, he stuck his tongue out at her. As the sound of her laughter rang through the foyer, the portkey activated and they vanished.


Hogwarts Castle...

The Dark Lord looked up from his scroll and scowled. Lucius had just entered the room and he rarely came to the castle except on his assigned days to report. He must have something of interest for me, mused Voldemort.

"Lucius!" he shouted. "Get over here!" He then handed the scroll to an underling. "Tell Mulciber I approve," he said.

The underling bowed and hurried from the room with the scroll in his hand.

"What news do you bring, Lucius?"

The blond bowed low. "I am uncertain, my lord, but I felt it worthy to come tell you about the latest report from our spy in Haven."

Voldemort nodded. Their spy was turning out to be more valuable than they had anticipated. He would have to think of a suitable reward for the child. "What news does she send?"

Lucius unfolded a parchment. "She reports that many of the senior members the Ministry, along with Potter and his companions, have left Haven for several days. She saw travel plans that placed them in New York City for the next few days."

"NEW YORK!" roared Voldemort. With a scowl, he summoned another servant. "Send an owl immediately to that bitch, Murphy. Tell her I want the attack postponed for at least ten days!" he snapped.

Lucius stepped back in alarm.

"Oh, do not worry, Lucius. Your warning came just at the right time. I had plans, you see. But if Potter is in New York, I need to delay them, for now."

Lucius breathed a sigh of relief.

"We must think of an adequate reward for Miss Joyner. Her work for us cannot go unrewarded, Lucius," Voldemort said.

"I shall give the matter my full consideration, my lord," he replied.

"What other news have you for me today?"

"Through our other sources we have confirmed that Potter is meeting with the King. I explored the possibility of trying to get an assassin into the Embassy, but concluded it would be too heavily guarded. And since Potter isn't using muggle transportation, there's no chance of taking down his plane," Lucius reported smoothly.

"Of course he's not using muggle transportation! He's a wizard! Leave the assassination attempts to me from here on, Lucius. I have the matter well in hand," Voldemort said with a scowl.

"It will be as you say, my lord."

"Well? Anything else?"

"Yes, my lord. The unrest in the Manchester area has been put down. Also, I've been concerned about the lack of manpower. I've begun a program in our muggle camps that should result in an increase in the number of Inferi we have at our disposal."

The Dark Lord's interest was peaked by the news. "Yes, more Inferi would be useful. It's a shame we can't send them directly against Haven, but it would take too long and would be too difficult to move them all," Voldemort mused.

Lucius nodded. He'd had this conversation already with some of his lieutenants. Inferi were far too stupid to attack without direction. They could be set up to guard an area, but that was about all.

"Excellent, Lucius. Is there anything further?"

"No, my lord."

Voldemort nodded and made a dismissing gesture with one hand.

Lucius bowed and backed away from his throne before turning around to leave the Great Hall.


JFK International Terminal, Arrivals Area...

Hermione helped Harry to his feet. He was really starting to hate portkeys!

"Did you hurt your leg?" she asked him.

"No. This time I got lucky," he replied, foolishly pleased to have survived the trip without further injury. Then his eyes narrowed as he watched a young woman in a business suit approached Dan and Remus.

"Excuse me, Mr. Potter?" she asked.

She was tall, blond and very attractive. Her skirt was slitted up one side to show a fair amount of thigh. Harry chuckled mentally when he noticed his father in-law checking out the blond.

"Look at your father," he sent to Hermione, amused.

She glanced at her dad.

"Oh, he wouldn't," she growled mentally. "I ought to tell Mum."

"Don't worry about it, love. He's window shopping, not buying," he replied. He ignored her quiet snort of disgust.

Dan and Remus exchanged amused glances. Then, as one, they pointed a finger at Harry. The young woman blinked in surprise and she ran an appraising eye over his form as she approached him.

He filled his expensive suit impressively, according to Hermione. Apparently she wasn't the only one who thought so.

"Mr. Potter?" she asked, now uncertain. She couldn't be picking up a party led by a teenager, could she?

"That's right," Harry replied warily. He didn't like the hungry look this woman was giving him.

Tonks shot Hermione an amused glance and Hermione slipped her arm around Harry's possessively.

"Don't you find her pretty?" she asked him teasingly.

Harry had a flash of her hexing his bits off and he smiled at the woman.

"Do I look stupid? Of course I don't find her attractive. She's a cow. There, does that make you feel better? If not, I can give her horns...and maybe a tail," he told her, his amusement obvious. Then he sent her a mental image that made her catch her breath and lean a little closer to him. His expression turned smug.

The woman smiled smoothly. "I'm Carolyn Masters from the U.S. State Department. I'm here to expedite your passage through customs and see that you get to your hotel safely. I've been briefed by our Department of Magic."

"Alright," Harry replied. "Show us the way."

"If I can have everyone's passport, please?" she asked.

Everyone passed their passports forward until she held all twelve. She was surprised to find that they were all diplomatic passports. That would make life a lot easier.

Masters quickly walked them through one of the customs gates, where she displayed all of the passports, along with her own identification card. The customs agent examined her ID, then waved her and her party through and out into the main terminal. Masters then led them to a group of limousines that waited at the curb. Once everyone was sorted into their cars, she joined Harry in the lead limo and gave him the group's passports.

"Your government has asked that we smooth things over and make your arrival easier. There has been a few minor changes to your schedule, or so I've been told. The limos will be at your hotel at four tomorrow afternoon to pick up you and your party, Mr. Potter. They will take you to the Embassy for your meeting.

"In the meantime, I've taken the liberty of reserving a private dinning room for your party tonight at Club 21 at eight o'clock," Masters said. "You'll have a few hours at the hotel to relax and change into something comfortable."

"I'm sure she wants to see you in something comfortable," Hermione said, a bit of an edge to her tone.

Harry nodded at Masters and tried to ignore Hermione's comment. "I'm sure that will be fine, Ms. Masters," he replied. Looking out the back window, he was surprised to see the three limos pull away from the curb with two other cars in pursuit.

Masters noticed his look and she reached over and patted his knee, ignoring Hermione's frown. "Don't be concerned, Mr. Potter," she said. "That's just the Department of Magic security detail assigned to your party. Our D.O.M. and your M.O.M. have developed intelligence that suggests there may be problems with this meeting."

Harry frowned and turned to Draco. "Why didn't you tell me about this?" he asked. "I would have put this meeting off if there was a problem!"

Draco shrugged. "I'm sorry, Harry. The simple truth is, we never had enough information to say whether there was a problem or not. It's just a vague rumor, that's all. When I explained that to Amelia, she decided to inform the Yanks anyway."

Harry turned back to Masters. "You've been briefed by your Department of Magic, I take it?" he asked.

Masters nodded. She was confused why Harry was angry at the pale blond man and wondered what the big hoopla was about a bunch of teenagers. She was willing to admitted, privately anyway, that Mr. Potter was quite a dish, and his eyes were out of this world.

Harry flexed his wrist and his staff snapped into his hand, expanding to normal size. Then the crystal end cap flared for a moment.

Hermione, Draco and Luna checked their holsters and made sure their wands were easily accessible.

Masters' eyed widened and she swallowed nervously. Her charges looked less like a group of harmless teenagers now and she wondered just how dangerous they were.

Harry smiled briefly at her, then turned his attention to the scenery outside the window. The last time they had been to New York, they hadn't left Manhattan island. He was busy looking out the window when he heard, quiet clearly, a growl from Hermione over their bond.

"Hermione? Just what is the problem? I get that you don't like Ms. Masters, I just don't understand why."

"She's flirting with you, Harry! And now she's staring at you. The nerve of her!" she snarled mentally.

Harry chuckled and looked back to his wife. He reached out and laced his fingers in hers.

"You have nothing to worry about, love. You never will."

"I know, but that's not the point. If she's as informed as she appears, she knows you're married and I don't like the idea of her flirting with you. And using that American accent of hers? I heard some of the girls in our company saying they thought the American accent was dead sexy."

He looked at her and rolled his eyes, his exasperation with her obvious. "I can't believe you're jealous!"

"I most certainly am not!" she sent back in protest.

Bypassing their bond, Harry reached out and touched her aura with his. He sent a small wave of remembered pleasure rushing through the connection.

Hermione's eyelids fluttered and her breath hitched in sharply. She leaned against Harry and tried to pretend nothing was happening to her, but they both knew better.

"Now do you understand? You will never have reason to be jealous, my heart," he sent her softly. Then he turned and looked at Ms. Masters who was looking at them both a bit warily. "Must be Portkey lag," he said with a smile.

Luna barked a laugh and Draco looked out the window, pretending not to snicker. Hermione closed her eyes and hugged Harry's arm in hers.

"Portkey lag?" she sent. "You are truly evil, Mr. Potter and I love you for it. In fact, I can't wait to get you into our hotel room."

"Then I hope it's not a long ride," he sent.

"Me too."


The Ritz-Carlton Hotel, New York City (Dec 20th)...

Harry rolled out of the bed and looked around sleepily. It took him a moment to orient himself before he reached over and turned off the alarm on the bedside clock. The State Department representative had checked them into one of the fanciest and most expensive hotels in Manhattan. The fact that they were staying on floors reserved normally for wealthy wizard clients made it all the more special, as the suites were a mix of wizard and muggle technology.

As it was still early, he thought a shower might help wake him up. His mind wandering a bit, he walked towards the bathroom.

Hermione had stumbled onto the use of featherlight charms during their lovemaking a few weeks back, and last night they had taken full advantage of the fact that the charm reduced the stress on Harry's leg considerably. Unfortunately, it wasn't something he could use in everyday life. The charm had a limited life span, and as Hermione explained, using it too often could result in damage to the rest of his body's muscles.

Entering the bathroom, Harry stopped and looked at the shower in surprise. The area was built to resemble a waterfall around a small garden. He chuckled and turned on the taps, sending water cascading over the rocks of his 'garden'. Undressing, he stepped under the waterfall and enjoyed the warm water beating against his body.

He felt the change in air pressure when the bathroom door opened. The mist thrown up by the waterfall made it difficult for him to see, but he recognized Hermione's outline. With a smile, she stepped into the shower, grabbed the bar of soap and began to lather his body.

When she reached between his legs, her eyes dancing, he leaned his forehead against hers and groaned.

"I thought you might want some company," she said over the sound of the water cascading into the shower. Overhead, an illusion charm gave the impression that the shower was outdoors and a flock of birds flew over.

"You're more than company, witch," he growled. He ran both hands down her sides until he reached her hips. Squeezing with one hand, he reached between her legs with the other and smiled softly.

Her eyes widened and she grinned impishly at him. He knew the look. It was one of their games and the goal was simply to see who would lose control first.

She sucked in her breath when his fingers brushed her clit and the pair grinned at each other.

He enjoyed these little games as much as she did. After all, there was never a real loser.

Several minutes later, he grabbed her and held on as an orgasm ripped through him. Her hot breath bushed his ear as she whispered to him, encouraging him.

It took him a moment to recover his senses.

"Witch, you have me under your spell," he said.

"I do?" she asked with an innocent smile.

She lost her smile a moment later and she backed up slightly. Harry's eyes began to sparkle, but it was a look she was used to seeing only when he was pranking someone.

When he suddenly bent over, picked her up by the waist and threw her half over his shoulder, she nearly screamed, though not in fear. Her eyes were dancing when he turned and walked out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom.

"Harry Potter, you put me down this instant!" she cried.

He chuckled wickedly.

He stood in front of the bed and quickly cast a few spells. Then, with a quick flip, he sent her flying towards the bed, though he managed to get more height than he'd hoped for.

Nearly bushing the ceiling, Hermione bellowed in outrage, then clamped her mouth shut and closed her eyes when she realized she was about to land on the bed. Only she never did.

Opening her eyes, she found herself hovering a foot above the bed and felt the very soft, warm cushion of air beneath her back and legs. Before she could do anything, however, Harry had reached her and was kissing her thigh...and moving steadily upward.

She sighed happily. It wasn't quite what she'd had in mind when she'd climbed into the shower, but who was she to complain?

She moaned and reached for his head when his tongue penetrated her, her original plan long forgotten.

Two hours later, the Potters met up with the others in the hotel lobby. Harry looked everyone over, making sure they were wearing appropriate clothing. He glanced at Luna, who looked back at him seriously for a moment before sticking her tongue out at him. For once she was wearing normal clothing.

Hermione held his hand tightly and she had a slightly dreamy expression on her face. Her appearance was noticed by Emma, who began to snicker.

"Right, then. We have to meet back here at fifteen hundred. The limousines will be back here at sixteen hundred. I know Hermione and the others want to do a bit of shopping. So do I, for that matter. Does everyone have the apparation coordinates for our suites?" Harry asked.

When they nodded affirmatively, he continued "Good enough. Use your portkey if you get into trouble," he told them serious. "Now, anyone wanting to come with me for some final Christmas shopping?"

After finding that the men of the Brotherhood would be joining him, he turned to Hermione. "Do you have enough money?" he asked.

"Plenty. I also have the Gringotts debit card," she replied, still a bit flushed. "I'm off to Dior. Are you ladies joining me?" she asked, knowing full well they were.

Harry had told her to make sure everyone had something suitable for their meeting and that he'd pick up the costs. She'd had a bit of a time explaining to all the women that Harry was picking up the cost of the gowns, but they'd eventually agreed.

Emma looked around and signaled the women to follow her. Once they were out of sight, the men turned to look at Harry. Draco leaned against Neville and started laughing. Even Neville looked at Harry with something akin to wonder on his face.

"Merciful Merlin, Harry! I don't know what you did to Hermione, but can you teach us that trick?" Neville exclaimed.

Draco slid to the floor laughing. Terry and Remus smirked, but Dan put his hands over his ears.

"I don't want to hear this! Kindly remember that Hermione is my daughter. I do not want to know about her sex life. As far as I'm concerned, she and Harry sleep in twin beds!" he exclaimed.

"Oh, come now, Dan," Remus replied, tugging the man's hands downward so he could hear. "You've been in their bedroom, so you know that's not true. Besides, you want grandchildren, remember? That won't happen if they don't have a sex life." He was trying to be logical and rational, but the snickering of the others, as well as his own wolfish grin, ruined the effect.

"Sod off, you gits," Harry muttered, his face flaming. "If you haven't learned how to do that, I'm not about to tell you. Now, come on. While the ladies are buying gowns, I think we better make sure we have decent gifts for Christmas."

"How do you expect to manage that, Harry?" asked Dan curiously as he shoved at Remus.

"Easily," Harry replied as he watched the two, supposedly mature, men jostle each other. "We have an appointment at Tiffany's. You can take your pick of the muggle or magical sections. I've arranged for a line of credit with them for everyone, so don't worry about price."


The British Embassy, New York...

Harry stepped out of the limo and turned to help Hermione out. He was positively stunned by her beauty tonight. Her dress was white with black trim. It hugged her body like a glove, but only showed a hint of cleavage. He had seen her in some very revealing outfits, thanks to her ability to transfigure and her playfulness in the bedroom, but nothing like this. She was the very picture of refined elegance.

She had spent the day with the other ladies, shopping for an appropriate dress for the evening. Her only complaint was that the dress left no room to hide her wand holster. As such, her wand was now concealed in her handbag and she wasn't happy with the arrangement. She envied Harry. His Armani suit allowed him the use of his holster, although he was using his staff tonight as a cane. She smiled gratefully and took his hand when he offered it. She hadn't told him, but she loved how he looked in his suit.

She stood and wobbled for a moment. She was wearing heels and she wasn't used to them at all.

Emma stepped out of the car behind her. "Walk slower, sweetie, and be sure of your footing before you take a step," she murmured.

Hermione shot a grateful look at her mother, then her expression darkened. "Who invented these things anyway? They are killing my toes!" she hissed.

Harry looked between the two of them, lost by the conversation. "I can cast a numbing charm on your feet if you want, love," he offered, not realizing he was stepping into female territory and would be seriously mauled for his transgression.

"Don't you dare, Harry!" Hermione said with a glare.

Harry quailed back in terror when Emma glared at him also.

"Just stay next to her and let her use your arm for balance. I swear, you men sometimes! If it weren't for us, the species would be extinct," his mother-in-law muttered

Dan walked around the limo and rejoined his family.

"Don't you start!" Emma hissed at him.

"What did I do?" Dan asked mildly.

"Don't ask," Harry muttered darkly, then offered his arm to Hermione. He was amazed when she flashed him a dazzling smile. She looked as though nothing was bothering her. Harry shrugged and led his wife and the others into the Embassy.

The group stopped in the lobby of the building and waited. A minute later, a rather harried looking man came to greet them.

"Lord Potter? I am Geoffrey Bennett, Chargè d'Affaires here at the Embassy. If you and your party would follow me, the Prime Minister would like to speak with you all before you meet with His Majesty."

Harry nodded in greeting. "Lead on, please, Mr. Bennett."

Bennett led the group up a wide marble staircase and into a large office. Tony Blair, the British Prime Minister, stood by the window, staring out at the New York traffic on the street below. With him waited Amelia Bones, Arthur Weasley, Caleb Newman, his wife Carolyn, and to Harry's surprise, Melinda McKinney.

"Mr. Prime Minister, Lord Potter and his party have arrived," Bennett said, then he turned to Harry. "My Lord," he said with a slight bow and then he left the room, closing the doors behind him.

"Lord Potter! Please, come in," the Prime Minister said.

Harry blinked in surprise for a moment, then moved forward to shake the outstretched hand of the Prime Minister. He was surprised to find that the Minister was calling him by his Wizarding title. The muggles had stopped recognizing such titles three centuries ago!

"Prime Minister," Harry said with a slight smile. "Good to see you again, sir."

Amelia stepped forward and performed the introductions, something which Harry was eternally grateful for.

Mr. Blair surveyed the group with satisfaction. Other than Arthur Weasley, they were wearing suitable attire. It wasn't that Mr. Weasley was wearing anything outlandish, only that his suit was slightly out of date.

"If you will all follow me? His Majesty is most anxious to meet with you. This isn't a formal occasion, so introductions will be brief before we sit down to dinner. Afterwards, several of us will go off to a private conference," the Prime Minister said, leading the group through a pair of double doors.

Hermione slipped her hand into Harry's. He could feel her excitement bubbling over via their bond.

"Are you bored yet?" he sent her in a dry tone.

"Oh, hush." she replied.

They entered a large, elegant room with a huge chandelier and a fancy dining service set out on the long table. His Majesty, King Charles III stood next to the fireplace. Harry's group stopped and he had to suppress his laughter. Even his magical friends seemed to be awed by the presence of the King.

The Prime Minister approached the King and motioned for Amelia to join him.

They spoked quietly for a few moments before Amelia signaled Harry and Hermione to step forward. Harry resisted the urge to tease Hermione, via their link. She was terribly excited about this meeting and he didn't want to spoil it for her. But he couldn't help his smile as random thoughts about British history kept filtering over their bond to him.

"Your Majesty, may I present Lord and Lady Potter?" asked Amelia, a smile playing about her mouth.

Hermione's excitement is affecting us all, Harry thought as he met the eyes of the King.

As Hermione dipped a small curtsy, Harry bowed from the neck. "It is an honor, Your Majesty. On behalf of the people of Haven, I'd like to offer our condolences on the deaths of your parents," he said quietly.

The King looked surprised for a moment, then nodded. "Thank you, my lord."

The couple stepped aside and stood watching as Amelia introduced all of the Brotherhood to the King, then they were ushered to the table, where Harry found himself seated on the King's right side, with Hermione two seats away, next to the Prime Minister.

"You seem to be uncomfortable with your title, my lord. Why is that?" asked the King.

Harry paused for a moment. "I was not raised as part of the aristocracy and the trappings of such makes me feel more than a little uncomfortable, sir. I was surprised to find the mugg... er I mean, the non-magical government using our Wizarding titles," he replied.

Charles looked around the room and at the sumptuous feast laid out before them on fine china. "It would be nice to be able to get away sometimes and just be a regular person, I suppose. But I'm afraid people of our station rarely have that luxury. I cannot begin to express my gratitude for what you have done for our people. You have given us hope, Mr. Potter. I have seen some of the photos of those terrible camps, and will be visiting the refugees in California next week."

The King paused for a moment and met his eyes. "How badly did this hurt our enemy?"

Harry leaned back on his chair and thought about the numbers. "Very badly, sir. It has reduced his numbers by just less than a third. In the meantime, we're still ramping our numbers upwards. We outnumber him now, but not sufficiently enough to guarantee victory. The Americans and Canadians have copied our training regime and have set up camps to train more wizards to fight. If all goes according to plan, we'll soon have what we need to assure victory over Voldemort's forces."

"Excellent. But enough talk of business. We'll save that for after dinner. You are probably aware that I was briefed about your group long before we met, but I have to admit I'm still surprised to see so many young, married couples," the King said.

Harry blushed for a moment and glanced at Hermione. "When we resurrected the Brotherhood, we agreed to abide by the rules of that ancient and noble order. They preferred married couples because it provides stability and aids in some of our magics. For example, sir, my wife, Hermione, is an expert in Arithmancy. Arithmancy is an attempt to merge science and magic by associating a form of mathematics to the magic. She and I can share her knowledge, via a technique called communing. Most of our Brotherhood learn this way. One person studies a topic, then shares the knowledge via communing.

"The downside to all of this is that communing is very personal. Very personal, sir. I commune only with Hermione and the men in the Brotherhood. She communes only with me and the women. In that way, we form a unique pair and I do not have to invade the privacy of a woman I consider to be my sister and a part of my family."

Hermione and the Prime Minister had been watching the conversation carefully.

Seeing the King's puzzled expression, Hermione leaned forward. "Same sex communing is easy to keep to the topic, sir," she explained. "But between the sexes, it almost takes on an erotic quality. I won't say it's like sex, because it isn't. But the process of communing allows for physical sensations to be transferred. That isn't something you necessarily want to share with anyone in particular."

Harry nodded in agreement and started to say something when he noticed one of the security detail talking into a lapel microphone and looking around anxiously. The man walked over to another and said something to him in a hushed whisper and the man quickly left the room.

The first man then walked over and whispered something to the Prime Minister.

Blair's eyes widened and he nodded to the man.

Harry leaned closer to the Prime Minister. "Is there a problem, sir?"

"I'm not sure. There's some kind of disturbance downstairs. Security is checking on it right now."

Those at the table turned suddenly when they heard shouts coming from the outer room, followed quickly by the sound of gunfire.

"Damn," Harry swore as he stood up. His staff appeared in his hand and his eyes glowed ominously. "Ferrum Retardo," he chanted under his breath. The walls of the room started to sparkle and shimmer.

More gunfire and shouting was heard. Then someone pounded heavily on the doors, but they didn't move.

The King stood up, staring at Harry in consternation.

"Don't worry, sir," Hermione said calmly, her wand in her hand. "Harry has sealed the room. Nothing can enter until he releases the spell. Obviously something is happening outside, and your safety is vital."

Charles began to relax until he noticed that all of his magical guests had their wands drawn. He suddenly felt very naked and his guests seemed threatening.

"Neville," Harry called. "Can you find out what's going on outside the doors for us? Draco, you and the others protect the King and the Prime Minister at all costs. If you have to, grab them and activate the Brotherhood portkeys."

One of the doors began to splinter and fray as dozens of rounds were fired through it. When the bullets began to impact the shield, Harry grunted. He felt a little of their energy as they spent themselves harmlessly against it.

Neville stood and apparated away with a small crack. The King jumped and stared at the now empty spot.

More gunfire and shouts came from the outer room, then silence. A moment later, Neville reappeared.

"It's all clear now, Harry. The security detail has cleared the outer room. It looked like an assassination attempt on the King."

Harry nodded and dispelled the shield. He sat down as the door burst open and dozens of British Security men and New York police entered the room.

Melinda stepped over to Harry and poured a clear liquid into a glass and handed it to him. He looked up at her.

"It will help with the bruising. I know what that shield does," she said softly, while the Prime Minister talked with the police and his security.

Harry nodded and knocked back the drink.

Hermione sat next to him, staring into his eyes. "Are you alright?" she sent.

"I'm fine. That shield is rather nasty, though. Now I know why they don't recommend using it. It transfers a fraction of the energy to the caster whenever something hits the shield."

"Harry, you saved the King and the Prime Minister," she whispered to him.

"No, I didn't. All I did was buy us time by sealing the room. The security forces saved the King," he replied heatedly.

"I beg to differ, my lord," Charles said quietly. "But that isn't the point at the moment. And while I was hoping to see a small demonstration of magic tonight, this wasn't exactly what I had in mind," he added with a small smile. "As our head of security can deal with the police, might I suggest we get to our meeting before anything else disrupts the evening?"

Harry nodded and allowed himself be led into another room with Amelia, Arthur and Caleb.


Sibiu, Transylvania in Romania...

Dumbledore leaned down next to the open well and cast a privacy charm. Inside the well, Nickolai did his best to stay afloat, his head barely above the water. The well was warded with anti-portkey and apparation wards, and Albus had silenced the area around it. Nickolai might be found in a couple of years, but he wouldn't be located anytime soon.

Dumbledore twirled Nickolai's wand in his fingers. "So, my friend, now it is time to say goodbye," he said cheerfully, then he giggled and his cheek twitched.

"Dumbledore, you bastard!" growled Nickolai. "You will never get away with this!"

"Oh, but my dear Nickolai, I already have! It's unlikely that you will be found in time. I have your wand and you cannot get out. In the meantime, I have all sixty of your men, trained and willing to work for me. All willing to work for the greater good of wizard kind," Dumbledore told him, his eyes shining with insanity.

"Albus, please, I beg of you, do not do this. I can pay you, I can get you girls, anything, you name it," Nickolai begged from the bottom of the well. He was treading water and the water was bitterly cold. Already his hands were cramping and there was nothing for him to grab hold of.

"Farewell, Nickolai. I don't think we'll meet again," Dumbledore said, almost sadly, before standing up and smiling to himself. He recast the silencing charm, then walked away with a slight skip in his step.

Down in the well, Nickolai watched helplessly as Dumbledore vanished from sight. "DUMBLEDORE!" he shouted. But no one could hear him scream.


Author's Notes:

Alyx runs up to the inside of your monitor and screams a chilling, soul tearing scream. You jump in surprise and do something to yourself that you haven't done since you were six and had that sleepaway with cousin Lurch.

Bob looks around in a panic. "What the hell was that?"

"It's the Author's Notes!" Alyx wails, then runs around in circles, waving her arms in complete panic.

Bob walks over to Alyx and pushes her into her seat, then turns and opens a window on your screen.

"I'm terribly sorry, she's a little excitable at the moment. Bare with me and I'll wing this on my own," he says, then looks over your system and downloads the images you took during your last vacation. You know, the ones involving the three nuns, the midget and the pony?

"For research, you understand," Bob tells you, seeing your puzzled look. Then he reachs out, tweaks your nose and shakes his head over your accident. "Really, I thought you were beyond diapers and such things."

Alright then, on with the notes. For the record, Luna's little friend is not a snorkack.

Oh, and we get it already. People hate Amhar. They loathe Amhar, they want to see him on the Jerry Springer show. Is it really necessary to explain in your review why you hate him and why you feel we must hate him as well? I mean, come on, we WROTE him to be hated.

Penguin13: Yes, you will see Dumbles soon. In fact, he showed up again in this chapter. By the way, are you a technicolor penguin? If so, we may have a job for you.

Chapter 19 was a difficult chapter to write with the very large and intensive battle scene. We're pleased that so many people enjoyed the action.

Manatheron: The assassin you are wondering about happened to come into Haven before the line was put up. We've given you a few hints about this person, not many, but they are there. Don't you just hate not knowing?

Mathias: For future reference, when you want to reply to a review I leave YOU, drop me an email. It's on this site. Good job on finishing up your last story arc. And I'm watching the sequel - looks good so far.

Kari: You were going to put this into your abandoned list? We're hurt. We're insulted. Shame on you! Shame on your family! Shame on your cow! But seriously. Look at our update schedule. We've been pumping out a new 16-19K word chapter every 12 to 15 days. And you're willing to mark us as abandoned?

Sorry, Spokaneman, Ron is truly and totally dead.

Antoine: While we're not ship nazis (for the most part) we do agree with you. Draco/Hermione is a ship that should NEVER sail. As for Ruskbyte, he is another author and even though we share space on the server, we can't make him hurry up with his work. We suggest that you drop him an email and poke him yourself.

Mickey: Ginny was ordered to kill. But for her, this was her very first kill, and she did it in a up close and personal manner. Of course that is going to affect her. As to the reason why the Ministry doesn't use a time turner... well, go ask an author who writes a story revolving around time turners. The ones used in training the soldiers are twelve feet tall and weigh nearly 800 pounds and affect everyone in a very large room. It's not exactly something people can easily carry around.

Steve: If you want to see a Quidditch match, you'll have to look to another author. I absolutely refuse to write one. And don't worry, soon we'll see the camel calvary.

Seishi: Calm down. Take a deep breath. I'll answer one of your questions and that's more than I normally do. In reference to question number four. No.

Amaratherine: In our universe a Healer is the same as a Doctor. A Medi-Witch falls between the level of nurse and Doctor... Nurse-Practitioner maybe?

Musings: Thank you. And to everyone else. Read Musing's story. It's worth reading.

Jamie: Yes, No, no, no, Yes, twice now, Thursdays, Green, no, no, 12, yes, OH, GAWD, YES! And no.

BLOOPERS!!!

And now for our Blooper Selection, we proudly offer the following bloops.

"Yes, I will. I want to chat with you about the current teaching roaster."

I suppose it could be worse. Hogwarts could have a Teaching Rooster.

Peragrain bowed again and with a pop, he disappeared. Mr. Weasley, Ginny and Harry were looking at each other dump stuck.

I don't know, this statement sorta left me dumbstruck. I've heard about getting stuck at the dump, but this is silly.

Attaching a letter to its leg, he told Hedwig not let anyone near it no matter what. Putting a delusion charm on her, he knew it would not last long but at least she should be half way there by then.

I think this author got a little delusional with their charms. If I did something like this, I'd want to disillusion myself.

  • Previous
  • Next