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• Chapter 1 - Beginnings Chapter 2 - Orphans and a Hermione Moment Chapter 3 - Weasleys Woes Chapter 4 - Labor Pains Chapter 5 - Relationship building Chapter 6 - Far Reaching Decisions Chatper 7 - And so it begins Chapter 8 - Score one for the good guys Chapter 9 - The Pain of Birth Chapter 10 - Angels and Weddings Chapter 11 - Honeymoon Surprises Chapter 12 - Wives speak out and an Azkaban Field Trip Chapter 13 - Aftermath and a Reckoning Chapter 14 - Healing Conversations Chapter 15 - Dinner Guests and Mad-Eye Madness Chapter 16 - Politics and Angels Chapter 17 - Trick or Treat Chapter 18 - Whispers in the dark Chapter 19 - Difficult Times for all Chapter 20 - A Matter for Kings and Philosophers Chapter 21 - Christmas in Haven Chapter 22 - Pregnancy, Snorkacks and Luna rocks Chapter 23 - Muddying the Waters Chapter 24 - Dangerous Dagger Dilemma Chapter 25 - French Fried Troubles Chapter 26 - The pain of loss Chapter 27 - Necromancers, Amy and Trials Chapter 28 - An Elf in hot water Chapter 29 - The coming dawn Chapter 30 - Sunrise Over Britain Chapter 31 - A New Day Chapter 32 - Taking Stock Chapter 33 - Of Endings and Beginnings
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Standard Disclaimer:

"What are you doing?" asked Alyx.

Bob looked up from his desk. He was surrounded by bits of paper. The desk groaned under the weight of his notes.

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm filing the Environmental Impact Statement for this disclaimer," he grumbled.

Alyx blinked, then her eyes narrowed. "Why would we need an Environmental Impact Statement for the disclaimer?"

"It was the mutant penguins that finally tipped off the EPA. They didn't have any problems with the herd of hippogriffs, the dragons and the dancing elephants. They didn't mind the dozen cauldrons filled with toxic goo, they even laughed at the idea of a tutu wearing George W. Bush proclaiming he had won the war. No, all that they liked. It was the fifteen foot tall mutant penguins carrying machetes and living off live brains that bothered them."

"It would bother me too," Alyx muttered. "Can't you ever have a simple disclaimer and tell the people that we don't own the Potterverse and that all the characters are the property of JK Rowling and her horde of brief case carrying lawyers? And that we make no claim to any rights to these characters?"

Bob looked up at her, affronted. "Well, that would be boring, wouldn't it. Our readers want excitement! They want blood, guts, gore, explosions and sex! They want to see Amhar anally probed with a Saturn Five rocket! They want to see Dumbledore get his comeuppance. And you're planning on boring them? I don't think so!"

Alyx looked at him with pity as he filled out the forms for the Environmental Impact statement. She shook her head and turned to the readers. "I'm sorry, but this disclaimer will probably be delayed by at least twelve years as it works it's way through the courts."

With a sigh, she turned away and walked off the stage.

Harry turned to Hermione. "I think this is starting to get to them."

"I think you're right. They didn't give us anything to do in this disclaimer," she replied with a pout.

"Well, Snape's sitting two rows ahead of us. Why don't we go annoy him?" Harry offered.

Hermione nodded happily and they left their seats.

---

---

The Ritz-Carlton Hotel, New York City (Dec 21st)...

Harry rolled out of bed and tried to stifle a groan. His use of the Iron Obstruction spell the night before had left him stiff and sore. It was one of the few shielding spells designed to stop kinetic weapons, like bullets, but the caster paid the price for casting the spell because he felt a measure of the impacts.

"Are you alright?" Hermione sent sleepily from the bed.

"I'm fine, just need a hot soak to work out some soreness," he replied, heading into the tub.

The 'tub' turned out to be built to resemble a pool at the base of the waterfall shower. It was immense! The entire Brotherhood could fit in the tub. Not that he wanted to bathe with them, of course. Shaking his head, he turned up the heat on the water and slipped into it with a relieved sigh.

"Perhaps, love, but I don't share. And I don't think the other girls would like the idea very much, either," Hermione sent him.

"You're eavesdropping again. Besides, I was just wondering about the tub, not planning a hot party for my friends," he retorted in amusement.

"Then stop thinking so loudly," she complained.

Harry laughed. "Oh, go back to sleep. We have to leave in another hour or so."

Hermione sent him a mental caress and then her presence in his mind diminished.

Chuckling to himself, he considered the results of last night's meeting with the King and the Prime Minister. Things had started off tensely because of the failed assassination plot. The last update he'd been given, the security forces were still unsure who the intended target of the attack was.

They had talked privately for several hours, discussing the war and various aspects of it. Harry stayed mostly in the background for most of the discussions. He felt uncomfortable being present, but the King had insisted upon it.

Eventually a schedule was worked out and arrangements were made for additional meetings between the Ministry of Magic and the Prime Minister. Everything Harry had added to Amelia's wish list of items had been either agreed with or granted. As the meeting wore down, Amelia addressed the final item on her list.

She stood and bowed before the King, acknowledging him. Then her eyes sparkled with suppressed mirth, confusing Harry a bit after such a serious meeting.

"My liege, the Ministry of Magic is yours to command," Amelia began, using an ancient and archaic formula. "Shouldst we prevail upon the field of battle, we beg of thee a boon. We ask for autonomy, Sire."

Charles' eyes lit up with amusement. "My lady, we are grateful for your efforts and know that in the coming months you will give us your very best, but a family divided cannot survive and we would be lost without you. We regret being unable to grant you this boon. Ask of us anything but that."

Amelia and Charles looked at each other for a long moment before beginning to laugh. The Prime Minster, Arthur and Caleb joined them a moment later, and the room was filled with the sound of laughter.

Harry looked at Amelia in horrified shock.

When he finished laughing, Charles looked over at Harry and his lips twitched."Oh, my, Amelia. I think you need to explain to Harry exactly what that was all about."

Amelia took one look at Harry and started to laugh again. "Harry, do sit down and relax. His Majesty and I were merely doing something that has been a tradition between the Ministry and the Crown for over five hundred years."

Harry sat on the edge of his seat and looked between the King and Amelia, still unsure.

Amelia decided to have mercy on him. "About five hundred years ago we had a minister who asked the Crown for autonomy every year for nearly seventy five years. After that, it became a running joke between the Ministry and the Crown. Some actually think it will be mean bad luck if we didn't ask the Crown for autonomy."

"So this is just a tradition?" asked Harry cautiously.

"Some traditions are fun and frivolous, Harry," Arthur said gently. "Others have good reasons behind them."

Harry sank down until just his neck and head were above the water and he thought about what Arthur had told him last night. Some traditions had a purpose. He had been surprised to see both the King and the Prime Minister so willing to discard some traditions last night. It was something he was happy to see had happened at their meeting.

He relaxed in the hot water and he was starting to drift slightly when Hermione entered the bathroom. She walked over to the tub and dipped one foot in, testing the water. Finding the temperature suitable, she grinned, slipped out of her robe and slid into the water.

"You look suitably smug," she told him.

He cracked one eye open and peered at her. "Well, I know we got in late last night and didn't talk about the meeting I had, but it went rather well..."

He paused for a moment, then opened the other eye and looked at her. "Did you know Amelia has to ask for autonomy once a year? Some kind of big joke that has been going on for centuries. She, the Prime Minister and the King got quite a blast from it. But I think I'm coming to understand why the Yanks don't understand our humor. Sodding thing has been going on for over five centuries and we're still laughing at it? Talk about an old joke."

Hermione simply nodded. She didn't want to get into an argument about traditions being a link to one's past. Harry normally didn't mind traditions; he freely accepted most of those Eocho imposed on them.

She reached for a large sponge and started to lather it while Harry laid his head back against the edge of the pool and closed his eyes again.

"So, what are your plans for today?" she asked him.

"I thought about visiting the Avenue of the Magii," he said. "I wanted to pick up some extra presents for the holiday."

"Aren't you done shopping yet?"

"I am, but these are special presents."

Hermione stopped lathering herself when she got an image of children sized brooms and wands.

"Harry! Olga will have your guts for garters if you give her kids brooms. And you know the rules! No wands until they turn eleven."

"Relax, love, these are children's wands. The Yanks have been using them for years to get their children ready. They're very limited in what they can cast and how much power they can use. I talked to Sam about them. They're quite safe and the Johansens can have Johan set the levels on them."

"But why, Harry?"

He sighed and opened his eyes again. "The Johansens have done so much for us, Hermione. And they never asked for a single thing in return except to be able to farm some land. That farm doesn't bring in nearly as much money as they need when you consider they have fourteen mouths to feed. They scrape by, but only barely."

He shook his head and his expression grew distant. "It's a terrible thing to know that everyone around you is celebrating Christmas but you aren't. I want the children to have some things that will help them. Besides, I'm not going to buy them all training brooms," he replied.

"I didn't know things were that bad for them," Hermione said contritely. She recognized that he was putting himself in their place and understood the feeling those children would have on Christmas day.

Harry's gaze focused on her. "It's not your fault, my heart. Arthur, Amelia and I should have insisted on Sven accepting a decent salary for the position of Mayor, but he refused when he learned it wasn't a full time position. Amelia has tried to offer him a salary since, but he still refuses to accept one.

"Their twins are getting well paid by Q branch and I understand they're giving a bulk of their money to their parents. But it's still not right, Hermione. What good is having all this money if I can't do some good with it?" he asked her plaintively.

"That's not the only reason and you know it, Harry. Would it hurt your super hero reputation if you admitted that you care what happens to a bunch of orphans, even after they've found a happy home?"

He looked at her sourly. "Hermione... I got my very first Christmas present during my first year. I was so happy that someone seemed to care about me. I don't want to see the Sven and Olga's family forced to scrimp on gifts just because they're caring for children."

She moved to sit next to him in the pool, and hugged his arm. "So we do some Christmas shopping for the Johansen children before we go to the Embassy," she said firmly.

He nodded and closed his eyes again, relaxing in the hot water.

---

Later that same day...

Harry stepped from the limo and turned to help Hermione out. There were no comments about high heels tonight. While they waited for the other limos to pull up and empty out, he looked over the front of the Embassy. The damage from yesterday's attack was superficial, on the outside at least. He caught a faint smell of fresh paint and assumed the repairs on the lobby were still underway.

He admired Hermione in her ball gown. The dress she wore yesterday was elegant, but this one made her look regal... and sexy as hell. The gown was a similar color to the gown she wore to the Yule ball back in forth year, but it was cut differently.

Hermione stepped from the limo and smiled gratefully at Harry for his help. The full length ball gown wasn't something she was used to wearing. Although, she mused. knowing Harry, I suppose I should get used to wearing these things. She suppressed the temptation to giggle. She felt like a fairy princess from one of the stories her parents read to her when she was a child.

She looked at her husband and smiled. Harry was dashing in his tuxedo, the very picture of what she wanted her white knight to look like.

As they waited for the others, Harry looked around. The most noticeable change was the beefed up security. There were New York Police checking everyone coming onto the property. Once through the gates, however, a private security firm, as well as members of the Protection Service Detail, took over the duty of protecting those within the Embassy. He was pleased to note that several Aurors from the Ministry of Magic's PSD were also present. Amelia and Harry had urged the King and the Prime Minister to accept them. It had been one of the items he'd brought up at the meeting the night before.

When the last limos disgorged their passengers, he lead the chattering group of people into the building. The lobby did show signs of hurried repair as he suspected it would. A set of speakers played Christmas music and a huge Douglas Fir stood in one corner. A line formed up at a security table manned by Royal Marines in full dress uniforms.

Harry led his group to the table and gave the marine his invitation.

He chuckled when Hermione gave up her handbag for x-ray. He knew that her wand was in it and that the muggles would never suspect a 'stick' of being a lethal weapon.

When she turned and looked at her husband, her lips twitched. While Harry was explaining his need for the 'cane', a marine was making a show of examining the shortened staff.

Amelia waited on the other side of the security gate, trying to hold in her own laughter.

Once everyone was finally through, she Amelia led them into a huge room. Another Christmas Tree decorated one corner and there were four fireplaces, each burning a large yule log. The Embassy had planned the nights entertainment, which included live music provided by several different groups.

Remus and Tonks joined Harry and Hermione, who were standing off to one side looking a little overwhelmed. Behind Remus, a liveried servant held a tray with elegant crystal goblets. He took one and handed it to Harry, then grabbed another to give to Hermione, before taking one for himself and Tonks.

Harry sipped at the strange looking drink and his eyes widened in surprise.

"It's called Wassail, Harry. The first time I had it was when I visited Potter Manor, the Christmas before you were born. Your dad and mum were trying to make everyone feel at home. The war was still ramping up and the Order had taken a number of losses. I remember Sirius sitting in a corner, looking glum. Then James and Lily came out with this huge punch bowl of Wassail. I swear I could have taken a bath in that bowl, Harry, it was that huge.

"Anyway, your mum handed me a cup of the stuff, and I remember how bright and happy she looked. It was impossible to be depressed about the war around her that day. It was Christmas and she's found out she was pregnant only a few weeks earlier.

"Your dad, he wore this silly Christmas hat. He was dancing around the room handing out little gifts and every so often he'd stop to talk to you. You weren't even born yet! He had adopted a habit of talking to Lil's stomach. She loved when he did that, but he got carried away on a few occasions. Then she'd hex him with something silly. One time she hit him with a hex that made a pair of hands grow out of his head and cover his eyes. Another time she gave him antlers."

Harry smiled wistfully.

"Someday, it will be our turn for that sort of thing," Hermione sent him.

"I look forward to it more than I can say," he replied.

"Thanks, Remus," Harry replied. "Those little tidbits put life into what have always been just names."

Silence fell when the King arrived. He was followed by a group of children who moved off to one corner and proceeded to serenade the gathering with Christmas carols.

Harry smiled and held Hermione's hand. Slowly, the large crowd of people moved to gather around the choir, enjoying the sweet sound of their songs. Behind them, staff set up tables for dinner.

Harry felt a tap on his shoulder and he turned to see Amelia looking at him seriously. She gestured for him to follow.

He turned back to Hermione. As he moved closer, he whispered,. "Duty calls, love. Amelia needs me for something. I'll be back."

She smiled and tilted her cheek slightly to accept his kiss. Melinda McKinney moved to take Harry's spot as he moved off. Amelia led him into a small office with Arthur, Caleb, the Prime Minister, and a man he didn't know.

"Alright, we'll all here," Amelia said tensely.

Harry, picking up on her tone, wondered what the problem was.

"According to my Chief of Security, the attack last night was related to our Irish troubles, and not related to anything going on back home. The leader of the attack was a known IRA thug," Blair said.

"Well, that puts a different spin on things. And it means we still have a valid threat warning," Harry murmured to Caleb, who nodded.

"A valid threat? What threat?" demanded the unidentified man.

The Prime Minister coughed and Harry turned to look at him. "I'm sorry, my lord. May I introduce you to Sir Basil? He's head of MI5."

Harry nodded and offered Sir Basil his hand.

Sir Basil was a scholarly looking gentleman with an intense, dark-eyed gaze. He was rather tall and he tended to use his height to his advantage. He tried to pin Harry with his gaze only to discover a gaze far more powerful than his own staring back at him, unblinkingly. He looked away for a moment.

"Now then, Mr. Potter, you were saying something about a threat?" asked Sir Basil, his eyes returning to the young man in front of him..

"Yes. We had a rumor of Voldemort trying some thing against the muggle... er... regular government. We didn't have any details, and to be honest, I assumed that last night's attack was it. Although, I was surprised there were no wizards involved."

Sir Basil pulled out a small device and tapped a few keys on it before pocketing it once again. "You say your head of Intelligence spoke with our Chief of the Diplomatic Protection Group?"

Harry nodded. "Shall I call him? He's in the other room enjoying the music."

"If you would, please," said Sir Basil.

Harry smiled, then his eyes glazed over a little. "Love, find Draco and have him come to the first room just out in the hall. It's on the left. We need to talk to him."

"Is anything wrong?"

"No, I don't think so. It's just that it seems yesterday's attack wasn't the one we thought we knew about."

"Alright. I've told Draco, he's on his way now."

"Thanks," Harry sent, then he widened the bond and caressed her softly.

In the other room Hermione shivered deliciously and smiled to herself.

"Draco will be here in a moment," Harry said, his eyes focused once again.

Amelia shook her head in admiration. "I've seen you do that often, Harry, and it still amazes me."

"Doing what? He didn't appear to do anything," Blair said, looking confused.

"Harry has a unique link to his wife that allows them both to speak to each other, mentally, over distances. He asked his wife to send Draco in here," replied Amelia.

Harry refused to blush and he could feel Hermione questioning his emotions over their bond. Fortunately, he was distracted by the arrival of Draco.

"Draco Black, meet Sir Basil, head of MI5. It appears that yesterday's attack was not planned by old snake lips," Harry said dryly.

Amelia and Arthur choked back laughs. Draco, on the other hand, was not amused. He frowned and shook Sir Basil's hand.

"That means we still have a threat, Harry," Draco said quietly.

"I know, and we're worried about it," replied Harry.

"Has Sir Basil been briefed?" the blond asked.

Amelia nodded.

"Tobby!" Draco snapped, commandingly.

There was a moment of shocked silence from the Prime Minister and Sir Basil, then there was a pop as Tobby appeared.

The short elf wore a uniform that was reminiscent of the old World War II British Army desert uniforms. The short pants in particular looked quite fetching on the small elf.

Tobby looked around warily. Then, spotting Draco, Harry and Amelia, he snapped off a perfect salute.

"Tobby, please fetch me the threat files for the past two weeks," Draco said after returning the salute.

The elf vanished.

"What in the blazes was that thing and why was it wearing a uniform?" Sir Basil asked in alarm.

Harry chuckled and moved over to a comfortable chair where he sat and unconsciously kneaded his leg. "That, my lord, was a House Elf."

Seeing the uncomprehending looks, he decided it was time to educate his new friends. "The house elf is a sentient species, like humans. They're highly magical and extremely loyal to anyone who treats them with love and affection. They are just one of the many species who are helping in our war, sirs.

"In the case of the house elves, they are called such because they generally fall into the role of servant in our society. Somewhere, hundreds of years ago, their position became a form of formalized slavery. It is unfortunate that during this time the magic of the elves changed, forever locking them into this state of slavery. My wife is a strong advocate of elf rights, but even she admits it's impossible for us to free them as they currently are. Someday perhaps, but not today. An elf who's been free for too long slowly goes insane, and ultimately dies."

Seeing the shocked looks on the faces of the muggles, he shook his head. "You have more allies than you suspect, even if you don't see them. The elves are just one example. Over two hundred of them participated in diversionary raids during the assaults at Leeds and Wilmslow," he told them.

Tobby reappeared, carrying the file folder and gave it to Draco, who quickly flipped through it.

"Please stay a moment, Tobby," Draco said softly as he paged through the file.

Finally finding the pages he was looking for, he pulled them from the file and cast a quick, wandless, duplication charm.

"Show off," Harry muttered.

Draco snorted, then grinned. "Oh, please. You taught me wandless magic." He turned back to Sir Basil then and held out the pages he'd copied. "Here you go, sir. It's not much, but we think it's worth worrying about."

Sir Basil raised an eyebrow, feeling the rough surface of the parchment. He read through the pages, going back now and again to reread a section or two.

When he was done, he glanced at Draco and reappraised the young man. "You have a fine mind, Mr. Black. I can see that you've picked up on all the right points in this. You'll go far. Do you mind if I keep these?" he asked, holding up the sheets of parchment.

Draco shook his head. "No, of course not, sir. That is why I duplicated them." Looking at Amelia, he raised an eyebrow. "With this new information, we need to see about putting some wizards on the security detail here for the King and the Prime Minister."

Amelia smiled. "We've already taken care of that. At Harry's insistence, we convinced the King and the Prime Minister to accept ten members of our Protective Service Detail. They're already on duty. With a little luck, we'll be able to double that number next month."

Draco looked relieved.

Harry placed a hand on Draco's shoulder and looked at the others. "Unless there is anything further, we'll return to the celebration," he said.

Blair nodded. "Quite. It wouldn't look good for so many of us to be absent for long. Besides, I think we've done just about all we can, for now."

Harry nodded and started to follow Amelia and the others to the door when he was held back.

"Lord Potter, would you stay one moment longer?" asked the Prime Minister.

Amelia stopped to look at Harry. When he nodded, she turned away and left the room.

"Sir?" he asked, rejoining the Prime Minister and Sir Basil.

"The King was extremely impressed by your actions yesterday, my lord. While he understands that the Crown has limited authority these days, and even less considering the circumstances, he wants me to pass along a message to you.

"It is the intent of the Crown to acknowledge your titles and those of your peers aiding you in our war effort. It has been three centuries since the Crown has recognized the titles of the Wizarding world. The King says he owes you a debt, my lord. For what it's worth, you have his thanks, and those of His Majesty's government, for your actions."

Harry stood for a moment, shocked, then nodded once. It was a minor detail in the grand scheme of things. The King knew he didn't hold much value for his title. But the thanks of the Crown was not something to be brushed off so lightly. He found himself deeply moved and could feel Hermione questioning the emotional surge she was feeling.

"Thank you, Sir," he replied, somewhat at a loss.

A moment later, he followed the Prime Minister and Sir Basil out of the room to join in the holiday celebration. Upon entering the ballroom, Hermione joined him. She wrapped one arm around his and dragged him off to corner.

"What is it, Harry?" she asked worriedly.

He smiled, and instead of answering, touched her cheek. Looking deeply into her eyes, he opened the channel they normally use for communing.

Hermione, recognizing the gesture, dropped her occlumency shields.

With the link established, he passed the entire memory to her in an instant. Linking in this way, rather than using the bond, allowed her to experience the moment as if she had been present.

Hermione looked up at her husband with pride. She knew he disliked the titles, but knowing that he had earned the personal thanks of the Crown still moved him, and her.

"Come," she said, breaking the connection. "Let's join the others."

Harry laughed as she pulled on his arm.

---

Hogwarts Castle...

"My Lord, Mulciber is here with several wizards. He's asking to see you," said the Death Eater.

"Send him in," Voldemort replied quietly. Then he reached down and stroked the head of Nagini.

Mulciber entered the Great Hall with two men nervously following him.

Horatio looked rather tired. He'd finally taken care of his family after Voldemort's actions earlier in the month.

When the Dark Lord had cast the Cruciatus cruse on his wife it had left her insane. He had tried for several days to heal her before he put her out of her misery. That action had caused a major break between him and his children. His son had tried to kill him, but instead ended up being sent to the Ritual of Anthrokrak. He was a little more lenient with his daughter. He'd taken away her wand and given her a choice: the Ritual or become one of his concubines.

She now warmed his bed at night, allowing him to indulge in one of his more twisted fantasies.

Voldemort looked at the two men following Mulciber. Both were foreign looking, but that didn't matter. What mattered was what they brought with them.

Mulciber hurried forward and bowed low. "My Lord, allow me to introduce Chen Wei Fong of the Iron Wand Tong out of Hong Kong, and Jabai Arm Mehi, leader of the Blood Jihad. These men have brought nearly one thousand wizards to join your cause."

Voldemort's eyes widened. His body was suddenly surrounded by a deep red, nearly black aura and he fought to regain control for a moment.

Mulciber and the two men took a step back in alarm.

A minute later, Voldemort had his aura under control and invisible again. He knew what was causing the problem. The influx of the power from the Ritual had boosted his power tremendously. Coming to grips with that power was not as easy as he had anticipated. He was having difficulty mastering it.

Heartened by his silence, Mulciber stepped forward.

"Master?" he asked in a tremulous voice.

Voldemort's attention snapped back to the men and his eyes flared redly. "Welcome gentlemen," he said smoothly. "The forces you bring will be of great value in our cause. I can assure you, when the time comes and we make ready to assault your lands, my full strength will back and support your efforts."

Wei Fong knelt and bowed so low his forehead touched the floor. "Honored Master," he murmured. "You give us hope and great honor with your words. We of the Iron Wand will stand at your side and fight for your honor."

Not to be outdone, Mehi stepped forward. He placed his hand over his heart and bowed. "Honored Leader. We of the Blood Jihad welcome the opportunity to join your crusade. Gladly will we live and fight for the greater glory."

Voldemort smiled thinly. "I welcome you both. Horatio will see to your needs. He'll also set up a training schedule that will allow us the opportunity to train your men to be better duelers. Speak to him if you need anything."

Bowing, the two men backed away and waited for Mulciber.

Voldemort looked at Mulciber expectantly, wondering what other news the man had. "Well? Speak up Mulciber. You obviously have something more to bring to my attention."

"My lord, we have heard from Marne Murphy. She has placed the planned attack on hold. She suggests something right around New Years as an alternate date," Mulciber said tentatively.

Voldemort leaned back on his throne and considered the request. "Yes, New Years day would be an excellent choice. Tell her she has my permission to proceed."

Mulciber nodded, then he straightened up for one more final piece of news. "My lord, we have finally determined how Potter's forces are confusing our magic detectors. The problem is we haven't managed to determine a counter for it."

"Oh? And how is he doing it?" Voldemort asked, his eyes narrowing.

"He's using house elves, my lord. Apparently, the little buggers have the ability to make their magic look like human magic. There is no way to tell the difference between human magic and a house elf using human magic," Mulciber said in a frightened tone.

Voldemort leaned his head against his hand. "I will consider this. Perhaps we can develop something. Tell your men I am pleased with their discovery, but angry that they haven't fixed it. It's a priority from here on out, Horatio. I want this solved."

"Yes, my lord," Mulciber said. He began to back away from the thrown when the Dark Lord's hard, cruel voice stopped him cold.

"Oh, and Mulciber? From here on, kill every house elf we run across. Start with those here in the castle."

Mulciber bowed and shivered. "Yes, my lord."

---

The Ritz-Carlton Hotel, New York City (Dec 22nd)...

Harry walked into the room and looked around. He had packed all of his clothing already, but Hermione, from what he could hear, was still in the bathroom.

Pushing the bathroom door open, he shook his head. "I take it you enjoy this?" he asked his wife, smiling as she slipped down in the pool a bit further.

She smiled up at him. "You know we can do this at home, too, don't you? It's little more than some illusion spells and a few other effects. Right now we have a large tub and a shower. If we were to add a couple of illusions, it would radically alter our bathroom."

He leaned back against the sink and laughed. "Love, if you want to remodel the bathroom, be my guest. I admit I've come to enjoy the different style of tub, but as long as I can relax in it, I'm for it."

She nodded and began to make a mental list of changes she could make to their bathroom.

Harry checked his watch. "You better get a move on. We have three hours before the portkey goes off, and two hours before the cars are here to pick us up."

"Are you packed already?" she asked him.

"Yep. I had to do some careful rearranging to get everything into the trunk. I think we need to get a multi-compartment trunk if we're going to be doing much traveling like this, but we're pretty much packed at this point," he replied.

When she climbed out of the pool, he watched her every movement, his eyes glued to her naked form.

She blushed and looked at him. "If you keep having thoughts like that, we're going to be late, my lord."

He chuckled and handed her a towel. "In that case, I'll be outside while you go get dressed."

She nodded and wrapped the towel around herself. With a sigh, he left the bathroom, walked through the bedroom and into the sitting room.

Hermione went into the bedroom and was just beginning to dress when she heard voices in the sitting room.

"Harry? Is someone with you?"

"Yes, Draco's here. so don't come out unless you're dressed. He was delivering some news."

"Is something wrong?"

"We think Voldemort has found out that we're using house elves," he replied in a guarded tone.

Her eyes narrowed. He was hedging and she knew it.

"What aren't you telling me?"

"He's ordered the death of all the house elves in Britain, Hermione. And there isn't anything we can do right now to stop him, except to offer refuge to any who escape," he told her worriedly.

She closed her eyes and sighed heavily. She wasn't aware of all the details, but he didn't hide much from her. If he said there was little they could do, then there was little they could do.

"My heart?" he sent her after a few moments of silence.

Hermione winced, hearing his plea for her to say something. "I'm sorry, love. All those elves..."

"I know. I think it's time for us to go home and see what we can do, if anything."

"I'll finish getting dressed," she replied.

"I'm telling Draco to inform everyone that we'll have a meeting tonight at the manor to address this."

"Good idea."

Hermione frowned and finished dressing quickly, her mind considering Harry's news.

---

Ardersier , Scotland (Dec 22nd)...

Colonel McHardy looked at the map. His men were on the main road heading into Fort George. The eighteenth century fort had been used by the British Army before the fall of the government and continued to operate under the rebel elements. At the moment, the fort contained the garrison that provided manpower to Inverness.

McHardy's orders were simple. The night's raid would be a harassment raid in force. Get in, blow up a few trucks, maybe a building if they were lucky, and get out again.

He frowned and looked at the imposing structure in the distance using a pair of binoculars. He had tried to convince command to attack the fort using aircraft, but they'd told him he would have to do it. All the available aircraft were being used in the south to pin down remnants of the rebel elements of the British Army.

McHardy had a bad feeling about the mission, so he was taking extra precautions. He had four escape routes scouted and ready for use, and three different safe houses he could go to ground in, if necessary. Command had informed him that a flight of NATO Tornado's would be available only if the mission went bust.

He looked at his lead 'specialist', Mathias Thrawkmort. He wasn't sure what else he could call the man. Wizard? That wasn't part of McHardy's world and he was too busy fighting a guerrilla war to add it to his world view.

"My men are in place, Colonel," Thrawkmort said quietly. The fort entrance was barely one hundred yards up the road, and they could see that it was open and manned.

"Very well, then," McHardy whispered. He checked his watch and waited. First Sergeant Murphy was supposed to be leading a detail to prepare the road in case something went wrong. They couldn't begin until he had heard from Murphy.

He shivered in the December chill and reminded himself to ask command, again, for winter weight uniforms and coats. He started when he heard the trilling warble. Murphy insisted it was the call of the Snow Bunting, and McHardy didn't have the heart to tell him the truth.

McHardy whistled softly. From the high winter grass lining the road, two hundred men appeared and started to move towards the fort.

Hanover led his Royal Marines on a silent assault of the gates. In less than a minute they'd taken out the six men covering the gates and not a single sound was heard.

McHardy led his regiment up to the gates. They had been memorizing the map of the fort for the past two weeks. They knew which barracks they needed to place their mines at.

The regiment started to enter the fortress proper when the parade grounds facing the gates flooded with light. McHardy cringed and swore under his breath. It was a trap!

A voice sounded over a bullhorn. "Throw down your weapons and surrender!"

"Cover! Cover!" someone shouted.

A hundred men hit the ground, while others, still gathered around the gates, automatically fanned out to cover the men out in the open.

"Fall back," McHardy said tensely. He'd known the attack was a bad idea. Now it had become a death trap.

Not far away, several engines roared to life. Someone shouted and a machine gun began to fire. Several of the Royal Marines threw smoke grenades to obscure the battlefield. Around one of the buildings appeared a Saxon APC. Coming down the main road in the fortress were two Challenger tanks.

The three barrack buildings facing the gates suddenly lit up with small arms fire.

McHardy ran forward a few steps. "FALL BACK! PICK UP YOUR..." He grunted when the bullet hit him low in the stomach. He swayed for a moment, then collapsed to the ground without a sound.

Murphy ran up, lifted him firemen style, and carried him back to the gates.

Mathias and his men held the gates, shooting stunning spells and explosive hexes, as the Black Watch, 3rd Battalion, or Three Scots, filtered back through the gates and hopefully to an escape route.

Both Challengers stopped and their turrets traversed the parade grounds. One turret took aim at the gates with the men still trying to escape. The main gun barked once and the ground in front of the gates fountained with death.

A moment later the second tank fired.

Just outside the gates, Hanover watched in horror as men were torn to pieces. Then he grabbed for a radio. "Blackhawk flight, blackhawk flight, Three Scots three. Have two, repeat, two challenger tanks and unknown number of APCs in Georgetown. Authentication Alpha Oscar Delta Echo."

Hanover watched the radio unblinkingly, as if staring at it would make them respond faster. A half minute went by and he ducked as a tank round exploded several dozen yards outside the gates. He realized it had gone right through the gate area.

"Three Scots three, roger authentication. Blackhawk flight of six inbound. ETA three minutes," the radio blared.

Hanover blinked and looked at the men still in the parade grounds and winced. "COVER! COVER! Incoming air raid!" he shouted.

The soldiers of the Three Scots dove for any cover they could find. Several machine guns from the Royal Marines barked, throwing back the rebel army unit trying to force the gates. Two MILAN anti-tank missiles reached out from Hanover's men. One of the Challenger tanks shuddered to a halt, smoke pouring out of the small hole in the front. The tank crew bailed out into an environment laced with lethal fragments.

A Saxon APC fire-balled from another MILAN missile, spraying the nearby barracks building with burning fuel and fragments.

Hanover watched as they pulled back from the gates into the high winter grass. Everyone was avoiding the road, as ordered.

Sergeant Murphy skidded to a halt next to Hanover.

"Sir! Colonel McHardy is badly wounded. Captain Michaels is missing. That makes you senior officer," he said with a pant.

Hanover nodded. "Pass the word. Disperse after the air attack. Use one of the defined routes and meet back at the base within forty eight hours."

"What about the wounded, sir? Some of them won't last long enough to make it back to base," protested Murphy.

Hanover nodded and looked around before he spotted Thrawkmort. He ran over to the Auror and grabbed him by the arm.

"We're bugging out, but we have critical wounded. Can you do anything? Some of these lads won't live long enough to get back to base."

Thrawkmort nodded, his eyes narrowing. "Where is the Colonel?" he asked.

"He's one of those that won't make it," Hanover said tensely.

Thrawkmort turned to one of his Aurors. "Autumn, grab some rope, create a Haven hospital portkey, then cut it up." he ordered.

Autumn nodded and slipped off her backpack, rooting around for rope.

Thrawkmort turned back to Hanover. "She's going to make a way to send the wounded to Haven Hospital. Take each piece of rope, give it a hard yank, then place it in the hand of the patient. Make sure to let go quickly, or you'll be going with them."

Hanover nodded and breathed a sigh of relief. Now if Lady Luck would grace them tonight, they just might get out of this after all.

"Disperse after the air attack! You know the drill! Pick up your mates and scatter!" Murphy shouted.

Overhead the first of two flights of Tornado's arrived. The gates and parade grounds exploded as the cluster bombs detonated. A cluster bomb wouldn't do much to the tank, but several of the Saxon APC's blew up under the onslaught.

Hanover stood and trotted through the high grass, following the road. Behind him, Autumn Dodson, ex-Auror, darted around, handing out small portkeys to anyone carrying wounded.

---

Padfoot Manor...

Harry landed hard and hissed as his leg wrenched under him. He skipped a step or two and quickly sat down on the stairs. Almost immediately Hermione was by his side.

Amelia and the rest of the Ministry personnel shared Harry's portkey and arrived at the Manor with the rest of the Brotherhood. Melinda McKinny swung her head sharply at the sound of Harry's landing and was moving almost instantly.

Narcissa swept into the room, smiling. Her family was back and now the manor wouldn't seem so empty. She stopped when she saw Melinda running a diagnostic on Harry's leg. His face was screwed up in pain and beads of perspiration collected on his forehead.

"I think, Harry, that you should stop using portkeys for a while," Melinda murmured. "You haven't damaged your leg any worse than it was, but this constant stressing isn't good for it."

Several people gathered around him. He winced, seeing Amelia and Caleb. He was sure he could tell what they were thinking. How can he kill Voldemort if he can't handle a simple portkey landing?

Hermione scowled and glared at him. "Stop that!" she snapped at him. "They aren't thinking that. They're just concerned about you."

Harry winced and looked up at her. He turned his gaze away, shamed to admit he was feeling a little sorry for himself.

Melinda cast a mild numbing charm on his leg, then she paused and pushed her sleeve up slightly to look at a watch strapped to her wrist. Her brow furrowed. "Harry, you'll be fine, just take it easy for today. I need to go. The hospital has sent out an emergency recall signal for all staff," she said, then she turned to Arthur. "Can you get my luggage home alright?"

Arthur nodded, looking at her worriedly. He'd had plans for the rest of the day and they just went out the window. He understood, of course. It was her job and she was very dedicated. But that didn't mean he wasn't disappointed.

Melinda turned away and all but ran from the manor, heading for the edge of the anti-apparation ward.

"Did we have an Op planned for today that no one told me about?" Harry asked Caleb.

The man shook his head. "None that I'm aware of, Harry. But that doesn't mean the muggles didn't have something planned. I'll go check the Operations Center."

"I'll check in at the Ministry, then meet you there, Caleb," offered Arthur.

"Draco, go see what's happening at the hospital. They wouldn't issue a recall unless it was something big," Harry said.

Draco nodded and followed Caleb and Arthur from the manor. Harry expanded his staff to full size and levered himself to his feet. "No sense sitting around in the foyer. At least in the sitting room we'll be comfortable," he murmured.

He limped into the sitting room with the others following. In the foyer, elves popped in and took their luggage to their rooms. Harry had barely sat down when Dobby appeared with several other elves.

Dobby watched the elves carefully as they distributed drinks and some light snacks.

"Dobby, can I talk to you?" Harry asked. He had been dreading this conversation all morning.

The elf stepped over to Harry, a shy smile on his face.

"You know what's happening in Britain right now, don't you?" he asked softly.

Dobby's ears drooped and he nodded sadly.

Harry leaned forward on his chair and took Dobby's hand in his own. "As much as we'd like to help, Dobby, the only way we could do anything would be to attack Voldemort directly, and we're just not strong enough yet. Hermione and I are very upset about it, but we just don't see a way to help."

Dobby nodded, looking up at Harry. He tried to smile, but every elf in Haven was upset. They knew what was happening in Britain and they knew there was little anyone could do about it.

"Dobby, any elves that manage to get away will be welcome here. If there are too many of them, then I'll open up some of my properties so they have a place to stay until they find a family to bond with. I want you to know that I... no, that we, all, share your sorrow and feel the loss of life most keenly. If nothing else, this will make us work that much harder to free our land for all of us," Harry told the little elf.

"Dobby understands. We knows Haven is not strong enough yet. Some wills get away, Not many, but some wills. They know to come to Haven."

"I don't like it any more than you do, Dobby. Wizards and witches have been dying every day since that monster took over our country," Harry said, starting to get angry with his inability to stop the madness. The room rumbled as his control slipped and his magic flared.

"Carefully, my heart," Hermione sent to him then she widened the link so she could reach out and calm him. She stood and walked over to sit on the arm of Harry's chair, looking at the little elf.

Harry shot her a grateful glance, then he turned back. "Dobby, we'll do everything in our power to help those in need. But we've learned from bitter experience that we can't save everyone," he said in a whisper.

Dobby looked up at Harry in awe. His Harry Potter was grieving over the loss of elves. The race of elves had become accustomed to these occasional purges in Wizarding society. It was part of their lot in life.

"Dobby, I promise you, when this war is over, Harry and I will find a way to convince the Ministry to pass laws forcing better treatment for elves," Hermione said

Dobby glanced at Harry, who nodded. "You have our word, as Potters, and as members of the Brotherhood."

The others in the room glanced at him sharply, realizing that Harry was committing the Brotherhood to helping the elves. Dan and Emma were firmly behind the idea, having been raised as muggles. Remus thought it was a good idea also. He had experienced the prejudice of the Wizarding world first hand. But the others were unsure.

"Harry, that's going to be a long, uphill fight," Susan said, her voice filled with uncertainty.

"And destroying Voldemort is a walk in the park? Besides, it's the right thing to do, Susan. Look at Dobby and tell me he isn't a thinking creature. He isn't a pig raised to be pork chops, he's a living, breathing creature who has thoughts and feelings, dreams and hopes. If we can't figure out a way to free them, then the least we can do is figure out a way to improve their lot in life. He's my friend and part of my family."

"I'm not disagreeing with you, Harry. I like Dobby a lot. But this isn't an idea that's going to be well perceived by people," Susan countered.

"I never said it would be easy, but we're already involved in a war because of the prejudice of a handful. I think helping the elves can be done with a lot less bloodshed than we have now. It's worth doing."

Harry glanced apologetically at Hermione. "You know, I used to think S.P.E.W. was foolish. You recognized the problem and then you did something totally out of character by jumping to a solution without researching the problem.

"Your goal was admirable, if a bit unrealistic. The simple fact is, helping the elves is right! They're people like you and I, Susan, even if they look different than we do."

Hermione slid her hand into his. Her eyes were glistening with unshed tears and her expression was full of pride.

"Harry's right," Dan offered. "A society that relies upon slaves will stagnate. If we can improve their role in life, then we're really helping ourselves at the same time."

Dobby stood wide eyed, watching and listening to the conversation. The Pappy should be told about this right way, he thought. He might even decide to inform the Grand Pappy.

---

Haven Hospital...

Melinda McKinney arrived at the hospital and found organized chaos. She walked into the front entrance to find people running around all over the place. A Medi-witch hurried by carrying an arm load of potion bottles.

With a shake of her head, she ran to the emergency room, where everyone seemed to be congregating. One of the older Medi-witches spotted her and tossed her a green tunic to protect her fine robe. "Hurry. I don't know what's happening, but we have wounded coming in," said the witch.

Melinda pulled on the tunic and reached for a handy medikit. An alarm sounded in the waiting room.

"Here comes another!" someone shouted.

Suddenly a body appeared in the roped off area reserved for portkey emergencies from the field. Melinda rushed forward to assist. The patient was a man in his mid thirties and he was bleeding profusely from a wound to his abdominal area. She slapped a pressure bandage over the wound.

"I need blood replenishing potions here," she said commandingly.

A nearby witch turned to the potion cart and began plucking bottles from it. Melinda helped move their patient onto a stretcher and off to one side, out of the receiving area. As soon as they were clear another alarm sounded and another team of healers and witches prepared to receive a new patient.

Melinda began to cast diagnostic spells on her patient, trying to see what else might be wrong. "Damn... he's shocky. We need to stabilize him and send him to surgery. Are any surgeons available?" she asked.

"We're full up," a witch told her. "We need to stabilize and get them ready to move to St. Patrick's."

Melinda frowned. "He's not going to make it that long," she snapped.

"I'll check with the surgeons. If not, we may have to do it here," another witch told her.

Melinda nodded. "Do it, and get me a kit."

Around her other healers were working in a coordinated chaos. Orders were given and people rushed about to fill them.

Melinda ran a few final tests before she began casting a sterilization field around her patient. Wizarding society might be backward, but Wizarding medicine recognized the need to keep things clean as well as the muggles did.

"I get no reading from the HMI," she murmured to the older witch, who snorted and shook her head.

"You wouldn't. These are muggle soldiers. They apparently ran into an ambush and got mauled. The attached Wizarding unit decided to send them to us. It was either that or leave them behind to die," she informed her.

Great, Melinda thought. Muggles? That's going to make things harder, since we'll have to power the healing entirely by ourselves. Normally, Wizarding medicine relied on the patient's magical core to help power the healing. But muggles had no core, which meant a greater drain on the healers.

The older witch finished laying out the field surgical kit, then she turned and ran some tests on the man. Melinda watched her patient carefully, relying on visual observations to conserve her strength for when it was needed.

"He's going into shock," said the old witch.

"We can't wait anymore. Get some curtains erected around us. If we hope to have any chance of saving him, I have to start now."

Several witches jumped to follow her instructions and Melinda rolled up her sleeves. She hadn't performed any kind of surgery since attaining her mastery, but she didn't have a choice.

The old witch peeled back the pressure bandage and grimaced. Melinda whispered an incantation that lit up the end of her wand, then she began to cut.

---

Ballincollig, County Cork, Ireland…

Dumbledore watched the owl fly from his window with a satisfaction. Although his time inside Haven had been brief, cut off by his confrontation with Harry, he had managed to pick up quite a bit of information about the town and the wards surrounding it.

He was fairly sure he couldn't directly attack Harry, unless he could somehow bypass the wards. That was the final piece he needed and for that he went to his Sicilian contacts to see if they could obtain the Arch of Solomon. The Arch was an ancient artifact, built using magics and spells long since lost. The advantage of the Arch was that it could be pushed into a warded area, effectively making a door in the ward that they could pass through safely.

The downside of the Arch, and why it was unusable to someone like Voldemort, was that it had to be in contact with the ground to work, and Harry's death ward around Britain never touched land. Also, the Arch was said to be cursed. Some even said it had been cursed by God. Solomon was a powerful wizard, and King of the Israelites in ancient times, who had discovered wealth in Africa. His mines would become legend, both for their wealth and for the curses and protections that guarded them.

Dumbledore giggled quietly as he watched his owl disappear in the distance. The last time the Arch turned up, it had been in the hands of a criminal syndicate in Italy, hence his reason for contacting his Sicilian representative. He wanted to purchase, or at least lease, the Arch. If that failed, he already had another plan in place that would lure Harry out of his little haven.

His cheek twitched uncontrollably and one hand trembled. His force of mercenaries, all sixty of them, were hidden away in little hotels and boarding houses all across Cork, waiting for his signal to assemble.

"I'm coming, Harry, and you will bow before me like you should have," Dumbledore muttered, then he turned away from the window and cackled before performing a small jig around the room.

---

Haven Hospital, Early Morning (Dec 24th)...

McHardy blinked and slowly opened his eyes. He frowned. He was in a bed, and there was a slow burning pain in his belly, and he had no clue where he was. The room was darkened, and the curtains were closed blocking any view from the windows.

He turned and winced when a door opened, admitting two people.

"Torca ignis," muttered a female voice.

The room lit up as several wall sconces flared to life. He could see one man wearing an RAF uniform, and a auburn haired young woman wearing strange green pajamas.

"Colonel McHardy, I'm Group Captain Anderson," said the man in the uniform. "I'm here to explain to you where you are and why. First, however, please let Healer McKinney check you over."

The woman stepped up to the bed and looked him over with a practiced eye. "Are you in any pain?" she asked. Then she pulled out a stick and muttered a few words. Numbers and pictures floated above McHardy and he gasped in shock.

"Yes, my stomach hurts," he stammered.

"Well, that's to be expected, Colonel. You were shot in the stomach, but we managed to put you back together," Melinda said, pleased. She reached into a pocket and pulled out a small vial. "Here, drink this," she said, then she lifted his head and put the vial to his mouth.

McHardy drank the potion and grimace. Then his eyes widened as the pain receded.

"You're healing well, Colonel," she told him. "You have a slight temperature, so we'll add a potion to reduce the possibility of infection. If all goes well, we'll have you out of here and back to your men by the day after Christmas."

Melinda turned to Group Captain Anderson and nodded, then she walked out of the room.

"Where in the blazes am I and how can I be ready to be released after being shot in the gut?" demanded McHardy.

Anderson raised a hand placatingly. "Relax, Colonel. Do you remember what happened?"

McHardy paused and frowned. "We were assaulting Fort George and we ran into armor we didn't expect."

Anderson sat down on a nearby chair. "You ran into two Challenger tanks and several APC's. It was a trap. You took a round to the belly while trying to fight your way out. Once you were wounded, your men fell back and called in air support.

"You and your wounded were evacuated to Haven, which is... Well, let's say it's a special operations unit run by Department M and covered by the Official Secrets Act. They have abilities here in Haven..."

McHardy's eyes widened and he nodded. He didn't know where this Haven base was, but he had heard Thrawkmort's group talk about it.

"How many of my men were injured?"

Anderson's expression darkened. "Quite a few, I'm afraid. We received seventy six injured, including yourself. From what we've heard from your Lieutenant Hanover, you have another twenty eight missing, forty two killed."

McHardy closed his eyes and faced away from Anderson. More than a third of his command injured or killed in a single mission!

"The good news is that all of your injured men, including yourself, will be capable of returning to active service before the first of the year, and that command has decided to reinforce your unit again. We've already begun to expand your base to house everyone, thanks to department M.

"Your location is key to our plans, Colonel. That's why command is beefing up your force. Your reinforcements will include elements from American and Canadian units, as well as another contingent of Royal Marines.

"As for what happened at Fort George, I'm afraid that's part of the uncertainty of war. We had no intelligence that there was any armor in that location. Even your own scouts didn't see any evidence of it. We've pounded Fort George several times with airstrikes at this point, but I'm afraid we're going to have to get some people on the ground to scout the area. And that is were you come in.

"Traditionally, with an injury like yours, command would send you to the rear and assign another officer. However, you have built up quite a following with the upper brass, old boy. They want you back in the field, where you can do some good," Anderson concluded with a feral smile.

"They want us to check out Fort George again, don't they?"

Anderson's smile drooped. "Yes, I'm afraid so."

"A scouting party in force?"

Anderson looked up. "No, just a small recon team. If there's still a significant force holding Fort George, command will decide what to do. They want that fort cleared."

McHardy closed his eyes for a moment, reviewing what he knew. Fort George jutted significantly into the Moray Firth. If the enemy held that position, they could use it to oppose a...

He gasped and looked at Anderson. "You're planning a landing at Inverness! Why else would you care about a fort that's blocking the Firth!"

Anderson stiffened, and smiled thinly. "Colonel, you and I both know that guessing about future operations, or the motives of the higher brass, is a futile gesture. It's not our place to question and I'm not going to talk about anything I haven't been briefed on."

McHardy nodded and closed his eyes again.

Anderson noted McHardy's condition nodded to himself. "Rest, Colonel. You'll be back with your own men soon," he said softly. Standing, he turned and left the room quietly.

---

Melinda McKinny's Cottage, Midmorning...

"Dilly, are you sure they don't mind this?" Melinda asked. It was midmorning and she'd been watching the elf decorate the Christmas tree for the last twenty minutes. Dilly had banished her to the couch, not allowing her to help.

"It do be fine, Melinda. If they did not be wanting to help, they would not be here," the elf told her as she frowned at the tree. "No, you must be moving one branch up," she added, speaking to something on one of the branches.

Melinda smiled when a small fairy tossed her hands into the air and gestured.

"No, you will be trusting Dilly with this," the elf said. "It will be looking better if you do be moving one branch up."

The fairy shrugged, then did as she was asked.

Dilly clapped her hands. "Perfect!" she exclaimed.

Melinda shook her head and examined the five foot pine. It looked like a typical Christmas tree, covered in ornaments and tinsel. On closer inspection, however, the twinkling lights were actually fairies.

Dilly had informed her that the creatures were normally shy of humans, but were attracted to the joy people felt during the season and liked to be part of it. If they were treated kindly, given sweet ginger tea and small bits of fruit on occasion, they would stay. If angered or mistreated, they would leave, though only after making their displeasure known.

Backing away from the tree, the elf looked it over carefully. She motioned for Melinda to join her, then slipped her hand into her friend's and smiled.

Melinda examined the tree, feeling a bit overwhelmed. She looked down at the elf and smiled. "Thank you, Dilly." Turning back to the tree, she shifted a bit, feeling rather foolish, but wanting to express her gratitude. "And thank you, all of you, for joining us for Christmas," she told the fairies.

The lights on the tree brightened slightly, accompanied by the musical sound of bells.

"Oh! They be singing!" Dilly cried, bouncing on her toes. "They do be happy, Melinda!"

Laughing, Melinda knelt down and hugged Dilly, who crowed with delight and wrapped her small arms around her friend's neck, returning the hug.

"You will be sitting back down now," the elf told her as the moved away slightly. "Dilly do be having a gift for you."

"I have one for you, too," Melinda said. "It's in my bedroom. I'll just go and get it." Standing, she walked away to get her friend's present.

Several minutes later, they were both ensconced on the couch, each holding a gift for the other.

Dilly, unable to contain her excitement, thrust her gift towards Melinda with cries of, "Open it! Hurry!"

Laughing, Melinda ripped the paper as Dilly clapped happily. Opening the box under the paper, she found a pair of white shoes, the same type she wore to work. Before she could comment, Dilly had jumped off the couch and was pulling off the slippers she currently wore.

"They do be special," the elf told her as she put the new shoes on Melinda's feet, ignoring the woman's protests that she could dress herself. "Dilly does be knowing how much your feet hurt after work. Dilly did be copying your work shoes and charming them to keep your feet from being sore." Tying the laces, she backed away. "Up! Stand up and see!"

Putting her gift for Dilly on the table, she stood up and nearly moaned in pleasure. "Oh, Merlin!" she whispered, walking around the room. "It's like walking on clouds," she exclaimed. The shoes were soft, but also seemed to massage her feet with every step. "Gods, Dilly, you could make a fortune with these!"

The elf frowned. "Dilly does not be wanting money. Dilly be wanting Melinda to to be happy and comfortable," she said seriously.

"It's hard to be unhappy when you're here," Melinda told said distractedly, still unable to get over how wonderful her feet felt.

She looked up a few moments later to see the elf gazing at her with tears running down her cheeks. She sat back down, alarmed. "What's wrong, Dilly?"

"Nothing be wrong," the elf cried as she flung herself at Melinda and hugged her. "You do be making Dilly very happy!"

With a puzzled shake of her head, she patted the elf on the back, then reached for her gift. "Well, I hope you like this," she told her, smiling.

Taking the small, wrapped box, Dilly examined it anxiously.

"What's wrong?" Melinda asked.

"Dilly be wondering if Melinda's Mister Minister did be telling her about the gift of clothing" she said, looking up worriedly.

Melinda smiled, understanding now. "It's not clothing, Dilly," she said quietly.

With a happy smile, the elf tore the paper and opened the box, then gasped. Inside lay a small, golden necklace with a heart shaped pendant, upon which Dilly's name had been engraved.

Melinda reached over, removed the necklace from the small box and held it up so that it sparkled in the light from the tree. "I wanted to get you something that would always remind you that you're a part of my family, not a servant. I know it was hard for you to accept at first, but I'm very glad you did."

Unhooking the clasp, she placed it around Dilly's neck. Closing it, she gently turned the elf around and smiled.

Dilly snapped her fingers and a mirror appeared in her hand. Examining her reflection, she tilted her head slightly. "It do be beautiful," she said quietly. A moment later, she dropped the mirror with a wail, lunged at Melinda and hugged her. "Dobby did be saying that there be good people like his Harry Potter and he was right," she said, weeping on the woman's shoulder. "Dilly be so very happy to be part of Melinda's family!"

Melinda hadn't known that house elves were so emotional, but she was becoming accustomed to it. With a small laugh, she patted the elf's back gently. "So am I, Dilly."

Hours later, the house was full of the warm smells of the season. The scent of pine mixed with that of the Christmas meal Dilly was preparing.

The elf had decided that because Melinda had to work on Christmas day they would celebrate early. As her friend's Mister Minister would be joining them, Dilly had already made plans to absent herself once the meal was served.

When the knock came at the front door, Dilly rushed to answer it, chiding Melinda to sit back down. Moments later, she lead Arthur into the living room. With a smile, she told both humans to relax, then served them tea.

Scurrying back into the kitchen, she peeked around the corner, then smiled into her hand when Melinda and Arthur embraced. Turning away, she danced towards the table and put out the place settings. With a frown and a snap of her fingers, she changed the everyday dishes into something a bit more festive, making sure to include wine glasses and candles.

Minutes later, she had the meal on the table and a bottle of chilled wine within reach. With another snap of her fingers, she lit the candles, then stood back and examined her work for a moment. It wasn't dark outside yet, so the candles weren't as dramatic as she'd hoped, but there was nothing she could do about it. Turning, she reached up to the counter, pulled down an open magazine and looked over the image splashed across both pages, comparing it to her work.

She didn't know a lot about what humans called romance, but using the suggestions from the magazine article entitled "Putting Romance Back Into The Holidays!" she felt she'd captured the spirit of the thing. With a nod, she closed the magazine and placed it in a drawer near the sink.

Leaving the kitchen, she entered the living room and announced that dinner was ready.

Once Melinda and her Mister Minister were seated, she made a few last second adjustments to the place settings, then backed away from the table. "Dilly do be leaving now. If you do be needing anything, you will be calling out and Dilly will come," she told them firmly.

"But Dilly, I thought you were going to join us," Melinda said.

"We'd enjoy your company," Arthur added.

"You do be needing time alone," Dilly said, yanking on one ear. "There be no use in arguing," she added with a scowl when Melinda looked ready to do just that. "Dilly will not be listening!" Grasping an ear in each hand, she began to mutter to herself just before she disappeared with a rather loud pop.

"Bossy, isn't she?" Arthur asked mildly. In truth, he was glad to be alone with Melinda.

"You've no idea," Melinda replied, rolling her eyes. "She's also incredibly emotional."

"Most elves are when they're happy," Arthur told her as he filled their wine glasses. "A toast," he said, raising his glass and smiling at Melinda. "To Dilly, and the fine looking meal she's prepared."

"To Dilly," she said, touching her glass to his and sipping her wine.

After dinner, they moved into the living room, noting that Dilly had lit a fire in the hearth and placed a tea service on the table in front of the couch.

"Sneaky," Arthur commented as he passed a cup of tea to Melinda.

"She's like that sometimes," Melinda said, smiling. She toyed with her cup for a moment before putting it down on the table. "I got you a gift," she blurted suddenly. "Three, actually. Would you like them?"

He blinked. "Um, alright."

Standing quickly, she rushed toward the tree and bent to pick up two packages. "I hope you like them. I never know what to buy people. My family used to tease me about that quite often when I was younger." Straightening, she turned around and nearly ran into Arthur, who'd followed quietly behind her.

"Oh!" she gasped. "I'm sorry."

He frowned for a moment, looking at the tree. "Melinda, are those... They are! You have fairies!" he exclaimed.

"What?" She glanced at the tree. "Oh, yes. Dilly coaxed them in. She said they enjoy the season."

"They do. This is wonderful." He leaned closer to the tree and smiled. "And you are all quite lovely," he told the fairies, who watched him warily.

The lights from the tree brightened as the fairies responded to the compliment.

"Here," Melinda said suddenly as she thrust the larger of the two packages into his hand. "I hope you like it. If not, I'm sure you can return it. Although that might take a bit of doing, now that I think about it."

Arthur frowned down at the package in his hand, then looked at her. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she replied, biting her lip nervously. "It's just that, when I bought the gift, I'd only recently learned how important you were. I thought it would make a perfect gift, you see? But now I'm not so sure."

Reaching out, he caressed her check lightly, his eyes bright. "Important? To who?"

"To everybody," she said, waving a hand about. "Not just here in Haven, but internationally, as well. I saw what your position means when we were in New York. That's when it hit me, you see. I hadn't quite realized it until then."

He dropped his hand and looked away. "I see. So, you're afraid your gift isn't worthy of someone of my... station?" he asked for clarification.

"Exactly!"

Scowling, he dropped the package on the floor rather carelessly and reached out to grab her shoulders. "You're daft, woman. Do you know that? Of course you don't. The insane rarely do."

When she only gaped at him, he shook her slightly. "Do you know what I did before the war? No, you probably don't. I worked for the Ministry, but in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office. I spent my days tracking down or cleaning up after muggles who'd been sold, given, or otherwise come into possession of enchanted items."

He let go of her and began to pace. "It wasn't a glamorous post, it didn't pay well, and sometimes the hours were horrid. Despite all that, I enjoyed my job. I rather like muggles and it made me angry when some boneheaded witch or wizard tormented them with biting tea cups, watches that prematurely aged the wearer, cars enchanted to run on the wrong side of the road or other ridiculous things."

"But when the Ministry fell," he continued, turning to face her, "most of the staff was either killed or scattered. We've found very few Department Heads or managers alive. When Amelia was appointed Minster, she asked for my help. And not because I was the best qualified, I'll have you know. No, it was because I was the only person who could take the job. We had exactly four qualified people from the Ministry still with us at that point; Amelia, Miles Pickerton, Caleb Newman and me.

"Miles was an Unspeakable and could have done the job, but we needed someone to run the Operations Center, something I'm not qualified for. And while Caleb was a fine auror, and has done a fine job in taking over for Miles, but he's never lead a department."

"I think you're selling yourself short," she began, frowning at him.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Let's get something perfectly clear, Melinda. My position at the Ministry was given to me for a few simple reasons. First, I'm breathing. Second, Amelia knows me and, thanks to Harry Potter, trusts me. And the third, and probably most important reason is that I'm a Ministry employee and know how the government works and how it interacts with other agencies."

"So you don't think you're important?" she asked, shaking her head in disbelief.

"The Office is important, not the man. If something happened to me, there are now several qualified people who would be able to fill my role and continue with the work."

"And you call me daft!" she said, tossing her hands up in frustration. She stalked toward him, a scowl on her face. "You listen to me, Arthur Weasley," she growled, grabbing a fist full of his shirt and trying to shake him. "There's no one who could take your place with your family or with me. That makes you an important person! And nothing better happen to you, or I'll never forgive you."

He shook his head in confusion. "I thought we were talking about my job at the Ministry?" he asked, bemused.

"We were, but now it's become personal," she told him. Releasing his shirt, she poked him in the chest. "Your importance isn't measured by your job, Arthur, it's measured by those who love you."

He opened his mouth, ready to point out the how irrational her argument was becoming when her words finally sunk home. "Wait. Love?" he asked, his eyes wide.

"Yes, love! Don't you think your children love you?"

"I know they do. I just thought that you meant that you..." He trailed off and shrugged helplessly.

"Oh, for goodness sake. Of course I love you, you dolt!" she exclaimed, poking him in the chest again.

Realizing there was no way to win the ridiculous argument, he grabbed her hand and kissed her palm. Tightening his grip, he then dragged her back to the Christmas tree and sat down on the floor, forcing her to follow him down. "Well, then, let's see what you got me," he told her cheerfully, reaching for the package he'd dropped earlier.

Ripping the paper off revealed a box, which he opened. Inside he found a black leather attaché case.

When he didn't say anything, she began to fidget. "I thought you could use something like this at work," she told him. "I thought it might be more secure than that old haversack you're currently using. The case is mostly muggle in design, but I did have a feather-light charm added to it, as well as one to increase the holding capacity of the case. And see? It has its own built-in muggle security device."

Reaching over, she pulled the case out of the box, and showed him the small thumb print scanner under the handle. Then, taking his thumb, she ran it over the scanner and smiled when the unit beeped. " Now it will recognize only your thumb print and open."

"Muggles think of everything," he murmured, his eyes bright with excitement. Look up from the case, he smiled and touched her cheek. "It's perfect, Melinda. Thank you." Leaning down, he brushed his lips across hers.

"I'm so glad you like it. While it's true you could have returned it, you'd have to go back to New York to do so," she told him, a bit sheepishly.

When he laughed, she reached for her second, smaller gift and gave it to him. "I wanted to give you something a bit more personal, but I'm not very good at this sort of thing."

Because she was getting nervous again, he opened the package without comment. Inside was a silver framed photograph of them together in Central Park. They'd had it taken their first full day in the city after running across a strolling photographer. That the man was also a wizard had been a nice surprise.

"I'd wondered about that," he said quietly, running a finger across the photograph and smiling when his image scowled at him. "When we didn't get the picture later that day, I figured the fellow had forgotten."

"I made arrangements for him to deliver it the next day," she told him.

"When?" he asked

"While you were busy examining that muggle food cart and peppering the poor vendor with questions."

"Oh, yes! The man with the warm canines. I'd almost forgotten about him."

"Um, hot dogs, Arthur. They were called hot dogs," she corrected him, trying not to laugh.

"Right, hot dogs!" He leaned down and kissed her more deeply this time. "Thank you, Melinda. The gifts are wonderful."

"There's one more. Open the case," she said, her eyes dancing.

Putting the picture down, he ran his thumb over the scanner, then opened the case. Inside was a long, black, plastic object. It was narrow, and the surface was covered in buttons. He tightened his grip on it when she reached for it.

Laughing, she shook her head and put her hand on his thigh. "The clerk said it was called a 'Universal Remote Control'," she explained, stumbling a bit over the words. "It can be programmed to control all sorts of muggle things. Oh, and it came with batteries."

"Batteries!" he exclaimed. "How wonderful! Did I ever tell you about my collection of plugs and batteries?"

"You did, yes." She controlled her laughter with some effort. "That's one of the reasons I insisted that the clerk include them."

Laughing, he put the muggle device down and dragged her into his lap. He kissed her soundly, only stopping when she began to tremble in his arms. "And you said you were no good at picking out gifts," he teased.

"You really like them?" she asked nervously.

"I really like them," he replied seriously.

When he wrapped his arms around her, she sighed happily. She'd gotten it right for a change.

"But wait a minute," he said, pulling away. "You haven't opened your gifts yet."

"I'd almost forgotten." When she tried to climb out of his lap, he pulled her back down. "You want me to open them here, then?" she asked teasingly.

Reaching under the tree, he picked up her first gift and nodded. "I think it's appropriate. And no, I won't explain what that means. You'll understand soon enough." He held out the small package and smiled.

She took it from him and promptly shook it, listening carefully for any sound.

He groaned. "What is it with you gift shakers? Don't you people realize you could break something that way?"

"Of course. But we also know that smart people cast cushioning charms on their gifts to prevent accidents!"

When he huffed in mock-annoyance, she stuck her tongue out at him, then ripped the wrapping paper to shreds. Finding a small box, she opened it and her eyes widened. The fairy light from the tree gleamed off the silver hair combs nestled in tissue paper. "Oh, Arthur," she breathed. "They're beautiful."

"I saw them in the window of one of the hotel shops and thought of you," he said quietly.

"Thank you," she whispered. "Let me go put..."

"No," he interrupted, tightening his arm around her waist to hold her in place.. "You can try them on later. You've still your second gift to open." Plucking a slightly larger package from under the tree, he took the box of combs from her hand and replaced it with his second gift.

"Go on, open it," he told her, putting the combs back under the tree.

A little surprised by how serious he'd become, she looked closely at the gift in her hand. It was round, whatever it was. With a mental shrug, she tore the paper off and frowned slightly in confusion. It was a small, ball shaped crystal. It was a vibrant blue and seemed to pulse gently in her hand.

"It's pretty," she offered, looking up at him.

Grinning, he shook his head. Taking the ball from her, he told her to cup her hands, then deposited the ball in them. Leaning down, he kissed her neck. "Close your eyes and think of me," he whispered.

Doing as he instructed, she jolted slightly as waves of emotions washed gently through her. Desire, humor, anticipation and trust. And strongest of all, love. They were his emotions, she realized. Stunned, her eyes flew open to meet his.

"You'll never have to wonder about my feelings for you," he said softly. "If you're ever in doubt, hold the crystal and think of me."

When she began to weep, he took the crystal from her hands and set it aside. Then, gently clasping her face in his hands, he wiped away the tears spilling down her cheeks. "I love you," he told her, then brushed his lips against hers.

Moments later, they were stretched out on the floor, bathed in the lights from the tree. When the bell song of the fairies filled the cottage, they were too lost in each other to notice.

Not far away, Dilly smiled happily and vanished.

---

Padfoot Manor, much later that day...

Harry was in his study trying to wrap his gifts. Dobby was helping, but between the two they used far too much wrapping paper and tape.

"Next time we start this earlier, Dobby."

Dobby's ears drooped. "I don't thinks earlier would help much, Master Harry."

Harry leaned back on his chair to survey the pile, then he sighed. "No, I suppose it wouldn't," he admitted. "Did you get something for Winky?"

"I made her some socks," Dobby said proudly, then he deflated again. "But she not likes clothes."

"I thought that might be the case. I bought something in New York. Would you like to give it to Winky?"

Dobby looked at him and his lower lip trembled. "Master Harry shoulds not be doing that."

Harry waved his hand dismissively. "No, Dobby, your family and family helps each other. I got you something for you to give your sweetheart," he said, handing him a small, velvet box.

Dobby's eyes widened and he opened the box. He gasped seeing a delicate gold heart on a small gold chain.

Harry smiled to himself. It wasn't much, but if he could convince Dobby to give it to Winky, he was sure she'd love it. Hermione gave Winky a lot of her old costume jewelery, which she loved to wear.

"I can't gives this to Winky, Master Harry. It cost too much. I don't have galleons for that and you shouldn't have boughts it," Dobby protested.

He leaned forward and looked at the elf. "If you could afford it, would you give it Winky?" he asked.

Dobby nodded unhappily. He knew he couldn't afford such a beautiful item.

"Well, it wasn't expensive. But if you insist on paying for it, how about if I dock your pay one sickle per month until it's paid for."

Dobby smiled shyly. "Master Harry do that for me?"

"Of course. I would have given it to you, Dobby, but you drive a hard bargain," Harry said with a straight face.

Dobby grinned toothily. Then, reaching for the wrapping paper, he unrolled nearly eight feet of it and began to wrap his gift to Winky, a blissful smile on his face.

"What has you so smug?" Hermione asked from the bedroom.

"Dobby," he replied. "I finally got him to agree to accept the heart necklace. He insisted on paying for it."

"That's what we expected. I know Winky will love it, though. Are you almost done in there?"

"Yes, I'm finished. Dobby will bring down the gifts to put under the tree, except for those I intend to give privately or elsewhere," he replied.

"That's what you get for buying those toys for the Johansen children," she sent teasingly.

"Oh, come on. You're going to enjoy watching them open their presents as much as I will," he shot back.

She didn't reply. He was right and she knew it.

Harry picked up one present and left the room. Dobby knew which gifts went where and would take care of the rest.

Hermione looked up from her book when Harry entered the room. In his hand he held one poorly wrapped gift. She shook her head at him. "Did you use all the wrapping paper?" she teased.

"Hey! I didn't do all that bad," he protested. "Besides, wait til you see how Dobby wraps."

"Is that for me?"

"Well, yeah..."

Hermione marked her place in the book and closed it before putting it on the table. "Let me guess. Judging by the size, it's small and it's from that catalog that Terry found?"

Harry flushed. "It's not exactly what you think it is," he mumbled.

"Oh? Let's see then," she said, her eyes dancing merrily at his discomfort.

Harry blinked in surprise. He had suddenly pictured a very young Hermione on the Hogwarts Express. It was one of the first things she had said to him and Ron. The image of giving this present to an eleven year old Hermione made him shudder slightly.

Hermione glance up at him sharply. Their bond was just passing emotions at the moment and she caught his embarrassment and distaste.

He handed her the package and she arched an eyebrow over it's weight. It weighed more than any lingerie she'd ever bought.

"I suppose I should tell you that all of the guys ordered something. We were having lunch and when I didn't show that much interest they started ragging on me. So I ordered something," he told her, blushing. "We can pitch it in the bin if you like."

"You bought me a Christmas present and now you want to throw it out?" she asked.

"Well... umm... It's just a thought," he replied lamely, then wondered if he would be sleeping on the couch downstairs tonight.

Hermione gave him a strange look and started peeling away the layers of paper and tape. Finally she got down to the box and stopped. "Edible body paints?" she whispered to herself, then she giggled a little. This is what he had been afraid to give me? she thought.

"Harry, this isn't as bad as I thought it was going to be," she said hesitantly.

He breathed a sigh of relief.

"When I saw the lingerie Neville bought for Ginny, I figured you'd gotten something similar for me. This, at least, can be used by both of us. The other is merely eye candy for the husband."

Harry looked at her, mortified. "I'd never buy you something like that, Hermione. It's too... personal," he replied. "Besides, you're always pretty to me, no matter what you wear."

She smiled sweetly at him, then she opened the box and pulled out one jar. Opening it, she dipped a finger in and tasted. "Hmm, strawberry."

She walked over to him and ran a finger along his neck, leaving a bright red smear. Then she stood on her toes and licked his neck lightly.

"So, you'd never want to see me in something like what Neville bought?" she asked in a whisper.

Harry shivered, closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around her."You know I would," he growled mentally. Then he reached out and touched her aura, feeding his sensations back to her. She shivered in his arms and attacked his neck with determination.

"It's going to be a good Christmas," he thought to himself before he picked her up in his arms and carried her to the bed.

---

Hogwarts Castle (December 25th)...

Severus Snape moaned as his climax shuddered through him at the same moment the woman hanging from the dungeon ceiling shrieked one last time as her soul was ripped away.

Pushing the girl at his feet away, he tucked himself back into his pants and looked down at her. "Happy Christmas, pet. Did you enjoy my present?" he asked silkily, running a finger over her cheek. When she grimaced, he backhanded her, sending her sprawling to the floor. "Now, clean up this mess. I want the room ready for the next," he growled.

"Careful, Severus," a voiced hissed from the doorway. "I won't allow you another toy if you break that one." The Dark Lord entered the room, several Death Eaters behind him.

"My lord," Severus stammered as he knelt. "I had not expected you today."

Voldemort approached the kneeling man and ran one skeletal finger down his cheek, parodying the caress Snape had just given the girl. "And why should you? I go where I please, Severus. It is you who must ask permission to leave the dungeon," he replied, almost mildly. "Another failure?" he asked, turning to look at the obviously dead woman hanging from the chains.

"Yes, my lord, though she lasted much longer than I expected," Snape told him.

"And you let your pet watch your experiments? Is that wise, Severus?" the Dark Lord asked.

"Watch?" Mulciber murmured not so quietly to the men near him. "More like service him as the woman dies. It's the only way he can get off anymore."

The snickering from the men died when Voldemort's glance flicked towards them.

"The girl, my lord?" Snape asked, puzzled. "She is harmless."

"What is to stop her from escaping these rooms? Or from interfering with your work?" Voldemort asked, watching the girl as she cringed away.

"She doesn't interfere because she knows she'll die in the chains if she does. And she cannot leave the dungeon, my lord, because I asked Mulciber to ward the doorway to prevent her passing." And the bastard agreed, but only after buggering me. How a sodomite like him ever fathered a family is beyond me, Snape snarled to himself.

Tired of the subject, Voldemort walked around the dead woman, examining the body. "How is your research coming?"

"It's going slower than I'd hoped, my lord, but I am making progress," Snape told him. "That one," he said, nodding to the hanging woman, "lasted almost five minutes longer than I'd predicted."

"Interesting. Do you know why?" the Dark Lord asked, poking the body with a finger until it began to sway.

"I believe so, my lord. The last potion included a small infusion of unicorn blood. My research indicated that it might tie the soul to the body longer. I'll need to test it again, of course, to be sure it wasn't a fluke."

"Excellent, Severus." He waved his hand towards Mulciber, and the man quickly moved forward and summoned a chair directly in front of the kneeling Snape. "You may leave," the Dark Lord told him as he sat down. "I wish to speak to Severus alone."

Mulciber bowed, then motioned for the men to follow him from the room.

"Severus, put your toy away for now. I do not want her listening to our conversation." Voldemort's red eyes bored into the girl.

"Of course, my lord." Turning on his knees, he glared at the girl and motioned sharply for her to withdraw into his private quarters. Once she's scurried through the door and closed it behind her, he turned back to face his master. "How can I serve you, my lord?"

Voldemort withdrew his wand and explained the problem he'd had casting the Cruciatus curse on Mulciber's wife. "Obviously my power has grown, but I had not expected to overpower my wand. I need a solution to this, Severus."

Snape frowned. "The simplest solution would be to cast without the wand, my lord."

"Fool!" he hissed, slapping Snape. "Do you think such an obvious solution did not occur to me? It would take too long to learn to cast without a wand!"

When Snape's eyes widened in sudden understanding, Voldemort grabbed his chin roughly and squeezed. "Just so. I cannot cast wandlessly, and you will keep that information to yourself. If even a hint of my deficiency escapes this room, it will be you hanging from the chains, screaming as your soul is torn from your flesh!"

"Of course, my lord," Snape whispered, shuddering.

Releasing the man's chin, Voldemort leaned back. "Now then, I need a solution, and I need one quickly. This ritual has been performed before, so this problem cannot be an uncommon occurrence among the Rite's participants. You will research this problem. If you need books, you are to ask your guard. I will instruct him to bring you anything you need, within reason."

"You are most generous, my lord," Snape said with a straight face.

The Dark Lord's smile was all teeth. "When I get what I want," he agreed.

In Snape's private quarters, the girl moved away from the door, having heard enough.

So, the Pale Creature is too powerful for his wand, she thought, her eyes darting around the room. And the Dark Man is making progress on extending the ritual.

She froze when she saw the potion ingredients cabinet on the far wall.

Was there enough time? She wasn't normally allowed in Snape's private quarters alone. She'd have to chance it.

Rushing towards the cabinet, she yanked on the door and nearly laughed out loud when it swung open. The man's arrogant assurance that she would never touch his belongings would be his downfall!

Sorting quickly through the ingredients, she found what she was looking for. Grabbing the bottle labeled Datura Africanus, she twisted off the lid and carefully removed one of the thorny fruit and dropped it into the pocket of her ragged robe. Replacing the lid, she slid the jar back into place and closed the door to the cabinet.

Hearing noises in the outer room, she jumped. Spinning around, she moved quickly to the center of the room, dropped to her knees and bowed her head. Seconds later, the door was thrown open and Snape entered.

Severus started when he saw the girl kneeling on the floor. Scowling, he took three gliding steps toward her and yanked her up by her hair. "Well? What are you waiting for? Get in there and clean up the mess!" he thundered, all but throwing her towards the door. "The next subject won't arrive until tomorrow, but I want that room spotless!"

Stumbling, she fetched up against the door jam and grimaced. When he took a step towards her, she ran from the room. When the door slammed closed a moment later, she risked a backward glance and breathed a sigh of relief to see he hadn't followed her. Checking the lab and finding no one, she scurried over to her bed — a pile of discarded robes, blankets and rags — and pulled out the thorn apple she'd stolen. Examining it closely for damage and finding none, she hid it away under her bedding.

Patting the pile of cloth gently, she turned away and smiled at the dead woman, still hanging from the ceiling.

Dragging a chair behind her, she approached the corpse, humming. Standing on the chair, she released the body from the chains and giggled when it fell to the floor with a meaty thump. Climbing down once more, she grabbed the corpse's wrist and began to drag her towards a trap door in the corner.

"You're a test subject, did you know that?" she asked the corpse. "I called your type a victim once, but the Dark Man corrected me most savagely." She stopped for a moment, puffing slightly from the exertion.

"You're all 'test subjects'," she continued cheerfully, staring down at the lifeless eyes. "That's what he likes to call you. It's incorrect, of course, but it would be worth my hide to point that out. No, you're not a test subject, you're dead."

Tightening her grip, she began to drag the corpse once more. "I don't mean now, of course. Anyone can see that you're dead. What you don't know is that you're dead the moment they drag you through that doorway over there," she told the dead woman, pointing at the door with her chin.

Reaching the trap door, she let go of the woman and opened it. Turning back, she knelt down beside the body and smiled. "It's better this way, really. You don't have to deal with the Dark Man and his perversions. And you don't have to worry about the Pale Creature's gaze boring into your soul, since you don't have one anymore."

She smiled again when she saw a tentacle reach up through the trap door. "Oh, good. He's here. I do so hate to drop you through all alone. Don't worry, he'll know how to take care of you," she said as the tentacle wrapped around the arm of the corpse and slowly dragged it down through the hole. "There are others down there, and more will join you soon. You won't be lonely," she offered comfortingly.

When the body disappeared, she closed the door and sat back with a pleased sigh.

---

The Johansens (Dec 25th)...

Harry and Hermione decided to walk the distance from the manor to the Johansens. It really wasn't that far and the day had turned out to be sunny and chilly, but free of rain. They didn't plan on staying long with the Johansens, as they still had their own Christmas dinner to attend back at the manor.

Hermione snuggled a little closer to Harry. It had been a good morning as far as she was concerned. He had woken her early so they could get breakfast ready for everyone, including the elves attached to the manor. Dobby and Winky had warned the other elves about the Master's strange ideas, but they were still shocked when Harry started baking the buns and cooking up bacon and sausages.

Hermione, to her own credit, had helped with the cooking, but Harry kept a watchful eye on her. She had come to the regretful conclusion that she was not meant to be a good cook. She'd told him so rather grumpily when he'd awakened, but he'd only smiled his lopsided smile and dragged her out of bed anyway.

Slowly people came down from their rooms to find breakfast ready, and the kitchen table expanded to include the dozen elves who stayed full time at the manor. With the exception of Dobby and Winky, every elf looked very uncomfortable.

After breakfast, Harry and Hermione had given the elves small medallions with the Potter crest and the name of each elf engraved on it. Then they retired to the parlor where the Christmas tree stood.

Hermione smiled and hugged Harry's arm as they walked. She knew he could afford to buy all sorts of things for her, but that wasn't what she wanted. She wasn't interested in things, but what he did give her, moved her to tears. He had made a substantial donation to the Library of Alexandria in her name. And he had purchased a small silver tea service from Tiffany's that was charmed to always be ready to serve hot tea. He knew of her midnight tea runs. She refused to ask an elf to bring her a cup, and now she wouldn't have to get it herself.

Harry smiled when she hugged his arm. It had been an excellent day and he thought it was only bound to get better when they visited the Johansens. Hermione loved her tea set, and the donation he had made. He was surprised by Sheik Alim's response, but it intrigued him and he couldn't wait to try it out.

The Sheik had sent a special reply to his donation that he'd timed to arrive yesterday. Dobby had placed it under the tree, so it turned out to be a complete surprise to both Harry and Hermione. Harry had made a donation of one hundred thousand galleons to the Library's reconstruction efforts and promised a similar donation, in name of Hermione Potter, for the next ten years. He set up a special account at Gringotts to cover it. The Sheik's reply was to name Hermione an official Librarian with rights and access to the Library anytime she visited. She'd acted like a child who'd been given the keys to the candy store when she'd seen the reply.

More interesting to Harry was the flying carpet the Sheik had sent to him. He couldn't wait to try it out and from the look on Remus and Draco's faces, they, too, were itching to give it a try.

He stepped up to the front door at the Johansens and knocked.

Inga opened the door and looked surprised. "Oh my. Come in, come in out of the cold. Let me call Mama, she will be so pleased to see you both!" she gushed.

In the living room was a small tree with some home made ornaments on it. Fred and George Weasley were busy adding new decorations as the children directed their efforts. Fred turned and waved when he spotted the pair.

"It's Harry Potter!" shouted Robert.

A dozen heads turned to stare at Harry, and Hermione suppressed the urge to laugh.

Olga bustled into the room, drying her hands on a towel. "Happy Christmas!" she said, rushing over to them. "Would you stay for dinner?"

Harry smiled and shook his head. "We can't, but we have some news, and some gifts we wanted to drop off. For the children," he said in a whispered.

Olga's eyes misted and she dabbed at them with her towel. "Oh, you shouldn't have..."

Hermione put her hand on Olga's arm. "We know, but it's for the children. Please?"

Olga stared at them for a moment, then she nodded. "Thank you," she whispered. She turned and clapped her hands, getting everyone's attention. "Children, Lord Potter and his lovely wife have shown up with some presents!"

"PRESENTS!" screamed the kids.

Olga led Harry and Hermione over to a love seat, then she sat down on a nearby chair. Sven walked into the room and sat down in a beat up looking recliner. He reached over and picked up his pipe, watching with a smile.

Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out a canvas sack, which quickly expanded.

"How about the littlest to the oldest?" Harry asked to the crowd of hopeful children. "Wait, where's Johan?"

A strapping blond boy stepped forward. For a second year, he was very tall. "I'm Johan." he said quietly.

Harry took a book from the bag and gave it to him. "That's the instructions for one of the gifts in here. Since you're the wizard, you'll have to read that and set them up for your parents."

Johan looked at the book and nodded. He was still coming to grips with his enlarged family and this would make him more important to all of them.

"I'm sure Fred and George will be happy to help as well," offered Hermione.

Harry pulled out a large red box next and opened it, revealing twelve wands painted bright red. "These are training wands just like the Yanks use," he said to Olga and Sven. "Each child gets a wand, and Johan will be able to set what the wand can and can't do. They really are quite limited, but it's a good learning aid for the young witch or wizard."

Robert reached into the box and pulled out a wand. He swished it and it spewed bright sparkles. That was all that was needed to create a stampede for the box. Suddenly the room was filled with bright sparkles and laughter. Harry wasn't sure who was having more fun, the children or Fred and George, who conjured balloons, which exploded when hit by a sparkle.

Olga smiled as little Linda waved her wand for her.

Harry pulled a large square box from the bag and handed to Hermione. She looked at him curiously, then walked over to Linda and knelt down.

"Linda, Mrs. Potter has something for you," Olga said.

The little girl turned and looked at Hermione with wide eyes. She looked at Olga for confirmation, then she shyly took the box from Hermione. She placed the box on the floor and started to tear at the wrappings. She got down to the box and looked up at Hermione questioningly. The side of the box had a picture of a dragon on it.

The box shook and Linda took a step backwards, but with everyone smiling at her, she gathered her courage and stepped forward again. She grabbed one side and pulled the box open. There was a puff of smoke from within the box and out stepped a stuffed, purple dragon.

The dragon looked around the room, puffing smoke. Then he spotted Linda, who sat down in front of him. He unfurled his wings and flew up to land on her shoulder. She giggled and turned to Hermione, throwing her arms around her neck.

Harry chuckled and motioned to George, who carefully stepped over the children. "Hand out the rest of this stuff, George. Each item is labeled and you'll find six training broom at the bottom that they can share. I need to talk to Sven."

George nodded and took the bag from Harry.

Harry stood and looked at Mr. Johansen. "Can I speak with you in the kitchen for a moment, Sven?"

"Ya, sure, Mr. Potter," he said, standing and leading Harry from the room

Once in the kitchen, he turned to Harry. "I want to thank you. The little ones are so happy now. Olga and I did what we could, but it was hard," he said with a shrug.

"Yes, and that's what I need to speak with you about, Sven. You see, Amelia found an old law on the books. It's over six hundred years old and it's never been repealed. The law was a result of one of the many Goblin uprisings. The long and short of it is, the Ministry, starting in January, is going to give you a credit of twenty five galleons per child, per month, Sven," Harry said softly.

The door swung open and a wide-eyed Olga, who'd obviously been eavesdropping, entered. "Is this true? Why would a law say such a thing?"

Harry leaned against the counter. "The law is quite old, like I said, but it passed after a war in which many orphans were left homeless and the Ministry wanted people to take the children into their homes. It was meant to help offset the cost of raising them."

Sven looked at Harry carefully. "This law is real? You are not making this up, like when you tried to get me to accept a salary for being Mayor?"

"I give you my word, Sven, it's a real law," Harry said fervently. He wasn't going to tell him that Amelia had people search the records for mention of the law. She had been ready to issue a ministerial decree, if necessary. Harry was glad the law had been found. Sure, they'd stretched it a bit, but it was for a good cause and the Johansens would not fight against a law.

"It's the law, Mama," Sven said seriously to Olga. "Mr. Potter would not fool us."

Olga nodded and dabbed her eyes with her towel again.

"Well, that's the news I had. Hermione and I are due back at the manor soon."

"Oh no, not yet you don't," Olga muttered. Bustling to a cupboard, she pulled out a plate, upon which she placed a generous portion of her hot strudel for Harry to take back with them. When he took the plate from her, she smiled and held the door open for him.

Entering the sitting room once more, he resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

Fred and George were busy playing Harry Potter and the Death Eaters. Robert and Brendan were sitting on floating brooms, trying to shoot sparkles at Fred and George, who had transfigured their robes into black cloaks. Several of the younger kids sat off to one side, watching a game of Wizard's chess.

Hermione laughed at Harry's response.

Little Linda was trying to convince her dragon to attack the black cloaked figures. It paced back and forth in front of her, ready to protect her from the red headed Death Eaters. Every so often the dragon would snort and a puff of smoke would shoot in their direction.

Shaking his head with laughter, Harry gathered up Hermione so they could return to the manor and their own Christmas dinner.

Stepping out onto the porch at the Johansens Harry noticed Hermione shiver slightly. The temperature had dropped again the clouds were rolling in.

"Cold?"

She nodded and pulled her cloak around her tightly. He stepped over to her and wrapped his arms around her. She looked up at him and before she could meet his gaze they were standing in the foyer of the manor. She blinked in surprise and he winked at her, then leaned down to kiss her forehead. "Love you," he whispered to her.

She snuggled a little closer to him, even though they were back in the warm manor. A pop behind them heralded the arrival of a house elf, who stood patiently waiting to help them remove their cloaks.

"Master and Misses be back at the right time. Dinner will be ready soons. Most of the family be in the sitting room waiting for your returns," said the little elf.

Harry released Hermione reluctantly, then he helped her remove her cloak before taking off his own. He handed both to the elf, then headed towards the sitting room.

"So how did it go?" asked Emma excitedly.

"Very well," Hermione replied with a huge grin. "They were so adorable, and the little girl loved her dragon."

Harry nodded and sat in a high backed armchair facing the fire.

"Harry? Did Sven give you much of a fight? You never said," Hermione asked.

"No, Amelia was right. Finding that law did the trick and it will solve their problem. I am just kicking myself. We should have done that much earlier. It never occurred to me, though."

"You can't see, or solve, all the problems in the world, Harry," Emma chided. "Just be thankful that this is one problem you could help solve."

Harry nodded thoughtfully.

"So," Dan said teasingly. "How did Harry do playing Santa Claus?"

"He did quite well for a first time," Hermione said, her eyes sparkling. "I think he'll do even better when it's his own children."

Harry blushed and looked at her appraisingly. He opened his mouth to retort, but Dobby appeared with a pop.

"Master Harry, dinner is being ready in the main dining room."

"Thank you, Dobby. Shall we go have dinner?" he asked the others.

Everyone stood and followed him into the dining room, where they took their seats. Neville and Ginny were over at her father's cottage and Terry and Susan were eating at Amelia's, but there were still nine of them at the table.

Once they sat down, four elves scurried around putting food on the table and pouring drinks. Dobby stood off to one side, watching them carefully to make sure nothing went wrong.

Dan lifted a crystal champaign flute that had just been filled. "Happy Christmas everyone," he toasted.

Harry lifted his glass to the toast and sipped. He still avoided alcoholic drinks as much as possible.

"One drink won't hurt, you know." Hermione sent him.

"You're probably right, but I remember last year very well. I really didn't like that out of control feeling," he replied, reminding her that her own father had gotten him drunk around the holidays last year.

He picked up the platter of meat and held it while Hermione took a slice and put it on her plate. He was reaching for a few slices with his fork when a house elf popped in next to his chair.

"Master Harry, Master Hairyhead is at the front door asking to see Miss Luna," said the elf.

Luna giggled.

Harry looked at Luna, who smiled dreamily at his confused expression. "She means Professor Hagrid," she told him softly.

Hermione choked on her drink and scrambled to find her napkin before she sprayed those at the table. Harry patted her back until the coughing fit had passed.

"Master Hairyhead? They call Hagrid Hairyhead?" she asked incredulously.

Luna frowned at the brunette. "It could have been worse, Hermione, and it's a little unkind of you to say anything bad about Hagrid. Before you got together with Harry, the elves had a most unkind name for you."

Hermione dropped her eyes. She knew Luna was probably right. Before she began to date Harry, she had spent most of her free time trying to trick elves into freedom. "I'm sorry, Luna. You're right," she whispered. Harry reached and caressed her aura comfortingly and she shivered slightly. His presence and actions comforted her. She had grown up a lot in the past year, but it hadn't been without cost.

"Please ask Hagrid to join us," Harry said to the elf, then he conjured a chair strong enough to hold Hagrid's weight and placed it at the table.

"Hagrid," Harry said, standing and smiling when the big man entered the room. "Happy Christmas!"

"Hello everyone, Happy Christmas Harry, Hermione. I wasn' plannin' on droppin' by today, but a bit o' an emergency made me change my plans fer today."

Harry walked over and guided Hagrid to his seat. "Nonsense, you'll join us won't you? We have plenty and you're more than welcome here anytime, you know that."

Hagrid stood over the table, eyeing the food hungrily. He had missed the Christmas feast at the school. "Oh why not," he said. "I could stand a hot meal today. It's right chilly outside today." He sat and an elf immediately popped in and placed a plate and tableware in front of him, then another elf arrived with a large goblet and a platter with drumsticks.

Harry blinked and wondered why they had ten drumsticks. He shook his head and wondered about the Wizarding world. He took his seat with a happy smile. He counted Hagrid as his first friend in the Wizarding world and was very pleased to have him over for Christmas dinner.

"You said something about an emergency, Hagrid?" asked Hermione.

"Oh, I clear forgot! Professor Sprout contacted me early this mornin' to tell me about a break in to greenhouse number two. She had examined the greenhouse completely an' she was sure it wasn' a student at fault. The only thin' missin' was some fluxweed."

As he spoked, everyone stopped eating to watch the large man. His tale was interesting, but it was his great coat that had caught their attention. Every so often his coat would move all by itself and it make a soft whirring noise, like a mechanical drill on low speed.

"Anyway, I spent the day lookin' over the area an' settin' a few traps to catch the culprit. When I did, I immediately thought o' Miss Luna. She be the only one capable o' carin' fer this little criminal, ya see."

Hagrid started patting down his pockets and the whirring sound increased in intensity. Finally finding the right pocket, he pulled out the strangest looking creature. It looked like a white lamb, except that it was only six inches long. It had a prehensile tail that added another foot to its length and a single gnarled horn jutted up from between its eyes.

Luna took one look at it and bolted up from her chair, knocking it over. The chair fell with a loud crash and the little creature made a mewling sound and vanished from sight.

"Where did it go?" asked Dan in alarm.

"Still there. Half a moment," Hagrid replied. "Come on, little fellow, no one's gonna hurt yeh. I'm goin' to give yeh to someone tha' will take good care o' yeh from here on out."

A pair of eyes blinked and looked at Hagrid. From its position it was obvious that it was hanging upside down from one of Hagrid's fingers. The eyes were the only thing visible on the creature.

"Meep whirr?" It sounded like a question, and it took a moment for those in the room to realize it had come from the creature.

Luna approached it slowly. She made a soft cooing sound and the eyes turned to look at her. There was a popping sound and the creature appeared on Luna's neck, fully visible again. Luna cuddled and whispered to it, a tear running down her cheek.

"Hagrid, what is it?" asked Hermione, her eyes wide. She had never heard of such a strange creature before.

Hagrid blinked and looked down at Hermione with a slight frown. "Now Hermione, had yeh only stayed in my class, yeh would've discovered tha's a Crumpled Horned Snorkack. Mighty rare they are, too. Make fer good familiars an' companions, if one chooses yeh. Their ability to apparate an' go invisible make 'em highly prized as a potion ingredient too," he replied, his frown deepening.

Luna shot Hermione a smug, 'I told you so' look and went back to cuddling her Snorkack. She walked back to her seat and a house elf fixed her chair. The elf spotted the creature and popped away. A moment later it returned with what looked like a bowl of popcorn for it.

With another meeping whirr, the Snorkack dropped off Luna's neck and approached the bowl, examining it greedily.

The little Snorkack tore into the bowl of popcorn ravenously. As it did, the whirring sound increased in pitch and volume.

Luna laughed and caressed the little creature.

"What will you name him? Or is it a her?" asked Harry.

"It's a her, Harry," Luna said in a serious tone. The little Snorkack looked up from her bowl and meeped before going back to eating.

"I was calling it Fuzzball," murmured Hagrid.

Luna turned to Hagrid and beamed at him. "Fuzz! That's a wonderful name! Fuzz it is."

Hermione simply stared at Luna and the creature she'd never believed in. She could vaguely feel Harry's amusement bubbling over their bond. Finally she turned a gimlet eye on her husband. He was watching her and grinning broadly. In fact, he wasn't the only one watching her. She shook her head and stared at her plate. She couldn't deal with all of them at once. But there was one she could deal with right now.

"If you want to spend the rest of the week sleeping on the love seat in our bedroom, keep smiling, mister. So, I made a mistake and didn't believe in Luna."

Harry's expression immediately changed. "Sorry," he replied all trace of amusement gone.

Dan snickered. He was all too familiar with the look on Harry's face, having worn it a few times himself. His expression had 'busted' written all over it.

---

Ballincollig, County Cork, Ireland (Dec 31st)…

Albus Dumbledore opened the window and stepped back, allowing the large bird to enter, carrying a small parcel. The bird landed on the small desk and he removed the package, freeing the animal to leave. He ignored the bird as it flew out his window, too busy casting several powerful detection charms on the package to notice its departure.

He frowned when he came up positive for a curse, but he couldn't tell what kind. Scowling, he levitated the attached letter away from the package and recast his detection charms. The letter came up clean. Smiling, he holstered his wand and opened the letter.

Albus,
No doubt by now you know that the package is cursed, though not by my hand. I have found the item that you asked for and it's inside the package. Mind you, the Arch has always tested positive for a curse, although no one knows what curse it contains.

The Arch was in the possession of the Zabini family, a powerful and influential family here in Sicily. How they got their hands on it is unclear, but they had been holding onto the Arch ever since the Nazi occupation of the island. It's reputation was well known. Because of that, they were quite willing to part with the Arch for a very reasonable price.

Albus, I don't need to remind you that this is a dangerous artifact. If you are to believe the Israelis, the Arch is cursed by Divine magic. I have found it for you, my friend, but I would recommend being cautious using it.
Luigi Flimflamari

Dumbledore smiled and waved his wand at the package. The wrapping fell away, revealing a small golden square that seemed to glow in the afternoon sun. Albus giggled and nodded to himself. Now he wouldn't have to resort to his backup plan to lure Harry out of Haven. He would use the Arch to go to him.

He danced a little jig over to his desk. Next to his Arch was a small crystal, which he tapped three times with his wand. The crystal started to chime, sending the alert signal to his mercenaries.

---

Haven (Jan 1st)...

Dumbledore led his men up to the edge of the wards surrounding the region. He looked at them carefully. What people didn't know was that his spectacles were charmed to allow him to see things like invisibility cloaks, or wards. He was able to locate the ward edge without a problem and bring his men up to just shy of the edge.

"Bring up the Arch," he hissed, frowning. The Arch was fairly wide, but it wouldn't cover all of the wards.

Slowly the Arch was pushed into the wards, making a hole. He had his men carefully place the Arch so that the bulk of the wards were breeched, with only a few minor wards existed outside of it. He was sure the remainder of the wards were only minor ones. He was positive that they wouldn't trigger them.

He was wrong.

Once it was in place, Dumbledore strode through. He felt a strange tingle and wondered once again about the curse of the Arch and what it was capable of. He waved and his men followed him through.

They had placed the Arch so that they were closer to the manor house than they were to the town. Dumbledore, during his brief stay in Haven, had scouted out the area so he knew where he wanted to go.

He took one looked around and then led his mercenaries up the road towards the manor in the distance.

In the town of Haven, an alarm rang, startling the duty constable. He bolted to his feet and looked up at a large map that was blinking an ominous red. The map showed a ward breech at a point close to Lord Potter's manor.

The rules for this were simple. The constable turned and faced a large board. He muttered a charm and the board lit up like a Christmas tree as it activated and began sending automated alerts to the Irish Aurory, the hospital and the Operations Center. In the distance, a siren sounded, waking people. Block wardens quickly donned their uniforms and rushed outside. It was their job to get the families to the shelters.

---

Padfoot Manor...

At the manor, Harry was just climbing into bed. Hermione had been asleep for over a hour, but he had stayed awake dealing with some correspondence he had fallen behind on. He had just pulled the covers up and laid down when Padfoot broke from his arm and started pacing the room, growling.

Harry rolled over. "Wake up, Hermione," he said urgently.

"Hunh... whazdamatta?" she asked sleepily.

"Wake up, I think we're under attack." he sent her.

"Dobby!" he called next.

Dobby appeared with a pop, blinking sleepily at Harry, then he frowned, seeing Padfoot pacing and growling menacingly.

"There's no time to explain, Dobby. Wake up everyone and have them meet at the master stairway. I think the manor is about to be attacked," the young man told him quietly.

Dobby's eyes widened and he vanished.

Harry rolled out of bed and transfigured his clothing into the combat fatigues he was used to. Without thinking, he did the same for Hermione. She blinked in surprise and rolled out of the bed.

He walked over to the window cautiously and looked out.

"Shit! Hermione, it looks like we have fifty or more people creeping up on the manor. Go get your parents and stay with them."

"No! I'll get them to portkey to the Operations Center. I'm not leaving you!"

Out on the lawn, the men spread out in a skirmish line. They were barely a hundred yards away from the manor.

The large house rocked with the force of an explosion and Harry staggered before recovering.

"Fine. Get with your parents and be safe," he hissed, then he rushed from the room. As he left, he let the tightly held leash on his power slip free and his body exploded with aural light. Padfoot trotted at his heels, hackles up and teeth bared.

If the men attacking his home were looking for a fight, he was in just the mood to give them one.

---

Haven Operations Center...

The alarm echoed through the empty halls of the Operations Center. The duty officer in the war room glanced up at map of Haven and the surrounding area. He could see the spot where the wards had been breached, and Lord Potter's manor blinking a bright orange.

He frowned. "Is that confirmed?"

"Yes, it's confirmed. The constables are evacuating the families even as we speak," said one of the aides, glancing up from her portable floo.

"Contact Deputy Minister Newman. Inform him of the situation and tell him I'm sending..." the Duty officer paused and looked over a large board listing which units were assembled at the moment. "The Saudis. Yes, tell him I'm sending the Saudis. Ask for permission to issue a unit recall."

The aide nodded and turned to mumble into her floo again.

In another part of the building, the unit of Saudi cavalry were abruptly awoken. Told that Lord Potter's home was being attacked, they were given orders to repel the attackers at all costs.

---

Padfoot Manor...

Harry stumbled again on the stairway and he clung to the banister for support. From the foyer below he could hear Remus casting curse after curse and he quickened his pace, not caring if he damaged his leg getting down the stairs.

Before he reached the foyer, there was a bright flash and an explosion. He blinked his eyes and tried to readjust his vision. After-images danced like spots in his vision, but he was sure there was someone laying on the floor in the foyer. He could still hear Remus casting though.

He reached the foyer and crouched down before moving forward. The body was that of one of the house elves. He scowled and joined Remus.

"Nice of you to join us," Remus said between gritted teeth.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked.

"I am, but I'm not sure about Tonks," Remus replied brokenly, then he pointed to a still form on the porch. Remus and Tonks had been out visiting and enjoying the New Years eve parties being thrown in the village. Obviously they had picked the wrong time to come home.

Harry growled and leaned around the door jamb, launching a bludgeoning spell at a figure. The figure saw the spell and immediately cast a shield.

Harry's spell crashed through it, sending the man shooting backwards and up. As he flew skyward, screaming, the combatants all paused to watch. Later, his body would be found more than eight miles from the scene of the battle.

Spells began to rain down on the attackers from the upper windows, yanking the attention of those below back to the fight at hand.

To the surprise of the defenders, several elves joined in the fight, hurtling household objects at the attackers.

From around the back of the house came a ululating cry and flashes of light. The Saudis stormed around the building, their fire breathing camels at full gallop.

Dumbledore's mercenaries recoiled in surprise and shock. It was bad enough that the odds had swung against them. But dealing with fire breathing camels carrying wizards who were brandishing scimitars was a bit much.

"Allahu Akbar!" cried the commander of the Saudi forces, standing in his saddle and waving his scimitar. "Death to the invaders! For Allah and Lord Potter!"

Harry growled to himself and he moved out onto the porch. "Remus, get Tonks out of here, now." he snapped, stepping over her body.

He cast a wide field stunner taking down ten men and Remus lifted his wife into his arms and ducked back into the manor.

And then Harry saw him. One man with a soft visible aura fighting among the others.

The Saudis hit the flank of the mercenaries and their scimitars flashed red with spilled blood. Camels snorted flame and men screamed as they burned.

"DUMBLEDORE!" Harry shouted thunderously.

Dumbledore turned from the cavalry. Spotting Harry, he stepped forward, his eyes gleaming insanely. "Potter, my dear boy. So nice to have you join us tonight," he said in a grandfatherly tone. Then his eyes narrowed. "Sectumsempra!" he snarled.

Spell light arced across the distance and Harry negligently batted it away with his staff. "Plumbeus latuseris," he murmured contemptuously, point his staff.

Dumbledore's eyes widened and he shielded before flinging himself to the ground. The curse shattered his shield and grazed him slightly. He climbed to his feet unsteadily and glared at Harry. He coughed once and wiped the blood from his lips.

A second wand appeared in the old man's free hand and he smiled madly. "Diffendo! Flipuendo!" he shouted, casting from both wands.

Harry sidestepped both curses and fired back with a Reductor that exploded at his enemy's feet.

Albus staggered backwards a good five feet and fell, bleeding heavily from one leg.

"Surrender, Dumbledore!" shouted Harry. He hated the man, but he didn't want to kill him. It would be better to bring him to justice.

When Dumbledore climbed to his feet, giggling like a lunatic, Harry stood, dumbstruck. Was the man mad?

The very idea so shocked him that he stood in place while Dumbledore fired off a cutting hex, aimed for his chest.

Harry dodged at the last minute, but was still clipped on the arm by the edge of the hex.

While Harry and Dumbledore dueled, other people from the manor entered the fight.

Narcissa worked frantically on Tonks, with a distraught Remus standing nearby, guarding them both.

Draco and Luna rushed outside.

Hermione had decided to use one of the upper floor windows. Her curses were slamming down on the mercenaries like rain. This was no duel and she knew it. What she aimed at, she killed.

Padfoot roamed through the ranks of the mercenaries, hamstringing his victims before tearing out their throats.

Other animal assistance came, surprisingly, from Luna's Snorkack. Fuzz exploded from around her neck with a high pitched whine, and the creature grew to an enormous size before landing. The Snorkack hit the ground running, tearing up a furrow in the manicured lawn that fountained behind it. It hit one mercenary and the man went down with a gargled scream.

With the man down, the creature paused, then whirred it's way to another.

So busy were Dumbledore and Harry, neither noticed that the mercenaries were being effectively driven back by the Saudis, Padfoot, and a Snorkack named Fuzz. Another group of soldiers coming up from town would soon have them trapped against the wards.

"Reducto," Harry shouted.

Dumbledore swept his wand, causing one of his mercenaries to fly through the air, intercepting Harry's curse.

The old headmaster responded with a bludgeoning spell aimed at Harry's leg. The younger man dodged and sent a rock hurtling towards Dumbledore at supersonic velocities. The crack of the sonic boom knocked everyone off their feet.

Instinctively, Harry rolled and looked up. Dumbledore was climbing to his feet. As he did, he cast a healing spell on his shoulder using a piece of field healing that Harry knew to be extremely painful. Dumbledore stared at Harry with a maniacal gleam in his eyes.

"If I can't have you, no one will!" he shouted. "Avada Kedavra!"

Harry rolled desperately, trying to get out of the spell's path, but Dumbledore wasn't giving him a chance. He kept casting the killing curse at Harry, keeping him on the ground as he rolled this way and that, frantically trying to avoid being hit.

Angry and tired, Harry vanished from sight mid-roll and Dumbledore stopped, confused.

Then ground at Albus' feet exploded, throwing him back. He came down hard on his back and he blinked in confusion, wondering what had happened and where he was. He tried to shake the grogginess from his head, but it was getting worse.

Harry's explosive hex had torn away his right leg at the knee and he was bleeding out quickly. Dumbledore raised his wand and cast a cauterizing charm, stemming the flow of blood, then he fell back weakly on the grass.

A strange shape moved over him, great yellow eyes staring down at him.

"MEEP WHIRR!"

"Fuzz!" Luna screamed.

Harry stepped from the treeline, exhausted. The fight would have been a simple thing if he'd only wanted to kill the former headmaster. But he wanted to capture the man and let him stand trial for his crimes. That placed restrictions on him and drew out the duel.

He looked at where Dumbledore lay and blinked in surprise. Then he rushed to the old man's side.

Fuzz had already dealt the death blow and now crouched nearby, watching her victim with bright, glowing eyes.

Dumbledore lay choking on his own blood, his throat torn open. Two pairs of eyes met, one green and hardened by combat, the other blue and drowning in insanity and death.

Harry knelt down next to him. "You should have surrendered, old fool," he whispered. "I never wanted you to go out this way."

Dumbledore's eyes flickered and his lips moved silently for a moment, then he lay still, his eyes slowing glazing over with death.

Harry looked up to see that the Saudis had corralled the remaining mercenaries, all twenty of them, and were disarming them. Padfoot walked among them, growling. Nearby, Luna was soundly scolding a Snorkack that looked to be nearly as big as she was. As she scolded Fuzz, it mewled and quickly shrank back to normal size, looking ashamed and, oddly, a bit sheepish.

She bent over and scooped up the little creature in one hand. "That's it. No more battles for you! Look at you! You need a bath, you're covered in mercenary blood and entrails. What have I told you about that? When will you learn? Don't you know you might get hurt?"

Luna walked back to the manor and out of hearing, still clutching her precious Snorkack.

Harry turned and spotted his wife and father-in-law approaching. Hermione averted her eyes from the corpse of her former headmaster.

"Is everyone alright? No one else hurt besides Tonks?" he asked anxiously.

"Kitty was killed. And another elf, Feeder I think, was injured, but he'll be fine. Tonk was hit with a organ shattering curse. They rushed her to the hospital and managed to counter it in time. She'll be laid up for a few days. What about you? You're bleeding." Dan pointed out.

Harry shivered and glanced at his arm. "It's just a scratch," he murmured, then he looked down at Dumbledore and shivered again. "I didn't want to kill him. I tried to get him to surrender."

Hermione took his hand. "Come, love. Let's get you inside and warmed up. O'Dalley will be here soon and he'll want to talk to you," she said quietly.

Harry nodded and let his wife lead him back towards the manor, where elves were already gathering to repair the front of the building.

Dan looked around at the large front lawn littered with bodies and torn up grass thrown up by Fuzz. Padfoot broke off from the mercenaries and trotted over to Harry and Hermione. Dan looked down at Dumbledore then. He hadn't known the man, except through the reports of others and a few, very brief, encounters. He bent over and closed the old wizard's eyes, then he turned to join his daughter and her husband.

---

Author's Notes:

Alyx stared hard at Bob and put her hands on her hips. "What the hell are you doing?"

Bob looked up from digging the hole in Alyx's flowerbeds. "What?"

"Why are you digging a hole in my garden?"

Bob looked back and forth a few times before he motioned her closer. "It's a secret," he whispered when she leaned down.

Alyx ground her teeth and clenched her fists. "Tell me now or I'll bring out my FPIA!"

Bob cringed. All husbands knew about the FPIA and feared it. A wife with a Frying Pan of Infinite Attacks was an unstoppable force.

Sighing, his shoulders slumped in defeat. "I'm digging a mass grave. I'm gonna kill all those people who seem to think we're gonna bring back Ron or Molly or any of the other characters we've gone to the trouble of killing off!"

Thinking quickly, she nodded in agreement and holstered her FPIA. "Move over. You're not doing this right," she murmured, then she jumped down into the hole with Bob.

We're pleased to bring back Dumbledore in this chapter... but this is also the last anyone will see of him.

Crys: There's a considerable difference between what someone thinks and what they say. Amhar's internal dialog can get quite crude at times. It's enough to make me shudder. Also, I'm not sure Jeconais's use of the word obliterate was a mistake. It smacked too much of a good and deliberate word switch to me.

For the record, and if you haven't figured it out yet, the attack that occurred last chapter on the King and Prime Minister had nothing to do with Voldemort.

Jamie: If you ask for DA and SC to be reposting here one more time, you'll get your wish. Alyx and I will stop working on Sunrise and spend all our time reediting DA and SC, something that's bound to take several weeks. Then we'll give your email address to all the people who want to complain about the lack of updates to Sunrise. Isn't that nice of us? We thought so. Seriously though folks, for the last time, DA and SC MIGHT get posted over here if we ever find the time to go back and edit it. In it's current condition, it's not fit for this site. Now, please stop asking.

Musings: We took Harry from the room because we wanted to drive home the idea that while everyone may orbit Harry, they are people unto themselves. Harry may be the main character in the story, but he isn't the only character. Showing characters apart from the main allows an author to flesh out the characters and breath life into them.

Patches: Trenton Largo is one of the Wizengamot members who is firmly backing the Ministry and the war effort.

Matthew: Harry's self esteem issues have gotten a lot better over the course of this series, but will still occasionally come back to bite him in the ass. This is one of those times where he can say he believes one thing, and his heart believes another. I don't think someone who has lived through the abuse like Harry has (in our story, let's not start a canon debate over this issue!), will ever be fully over it. He'll come close, but never fully recover.

Jackattack: The Bare was intentional. And if you think we're being presumptuous you are welcome to take your opinions to another story. We started off the blooper series with one from our own work, after all.

AlleyKittyKitty: It's good to wonder. People should exercise their brain more often!

DAUFahnder: We're sorry that this story has gotten too difficult for you to follow. We hope you find a story you can enjoy!

Princess Fictoria: Now that would be telling, wouldn't it?

BLOOPERS!!!!!

He had faced Voldemort, Tom Riddle, a whole party of death eaters and all kinds of other danger before, but Ginny Weasley's words shared the shit out of him.

Do I really need to point out the error here? This one sounds messy.

Moments later he felt at least twenty Killing Curses being thrown at him and all of the furry behind each of them.

God, I love furry curses! Must be because of ferret boy.

"Hey," he said in reply before leaning in and claming her lips.

Now this sounds totally gross. Hey, any girls out there that want their lips clammed? What's next? Lobstering a butt? (Alyx here: Oh lord, the visuals on that one make me want to gouge out my eyes!)

• Previous
• Chapter 1 - Beginnings Chapter 2 - Orphans and a Hermione Moment Chapter 3 - Weasleys Woes Chapter 4 - Labor Pains Chapter 5 - Relationship building Chapter 6 - Far Reaching Decisions Chatper 7 - And so it begins Chapter 8 - Score one for the good guys Chapter 9 - The Pain of Birth Chapter 10 - Angels and Weddings Chapter 11 - Honeymoon Surprises Chapter 12 - Wives speak out and an Azkaban Field Trip Chapter 13 - Aftermath and a Reckoning Chapter 14 - Healing Conversations Chapter 15 - Dinner Guests and Mad-Eye Madness Chapter 16 - Politics and Angels Chapter 17 - Trick or Treat Chapter 18 - Whispers in the dark Chapter 19 - Difficult Times for all Chapter 20 - A Matter for Kings and Philosophers Chapter 21 - Christmas in Haven Chapter 22 - Pregnancy, Snorkacks and Luna rocks Chapter 23 - Muddying the Waters Chapter 24 - Dangerous Dagger Dilemma Chapter 25 - French Fried Troubles Chapter 26 - The pain of loss Chapter 27 - Necromancers, Amy and Trials Chapter 28 - An Elf in hot water Chapter 29 - The coming dawn Chapter 30 - Sunrise Over Britain Chapter 31 - A New Day Chapter 32 - Taking Stock Chapter 33 - Of Endings and Beginnings
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