Sunrise Over Britain :: Chapter 27 - Necromancers, Amy and Trials

Back to: Harry Potter » Sunrise Over Britain

Also available as: Epub | txt | pdf | lit | mobi

Standard Disclaimer:

Alyx looked up and spotting Bob holding his head in his hands she walked over to him.

"What's wrong this time?" she asked.

"I can't get a guest disclaimer, I thought about getting the King of the Monkey Slaves, or maybe Old Crow, but they are busy with an act in Vegas involving two monkeys, a pony and a Midget named Brutus. Then I asked Rupert Grint to see if he want to make a cameo appearance and he wouldn't even return my call!"

Bob stood up and started to pace. "Musings of Apathy has been told by Professor Sprout that no more Hufflepuffs will be allowed to Disclaim anything. Dorothy still isn't talking to me since I gave that cooking lesson using Toto as an example of microwaveable food. And there's no HOPE for Jeconias despite the fact that we do give him a nod in this chapter."

He stopped and moaned piteously. The disclaimer was in serious trouble and he knew it.

Alyx's expression lit up and she walked over to Bob. She whispered in his ear and he looked up at her hopefully.

"Do you think we can pull it off?"

"It's worth a try," she said with a shrug.

The curtain closed on the stage and the house lights dimmed. Slowly the curtains pulled back and sitting out on the stage was Sean Connery.

Bob grinned widely.

"Say the words," Alyx hissed.

"Bond, James Bond."

"That's not right," muttered Bob in confusion. "He's supposed to say that JKR owns the Potter Universe and we're merely playing in it. And that we don't own anything in the Potterverse."

Bob turned to look at Alyx who had melted into a large messy puddle. "His voice is sooooo sexy," said the Alyx puddle.

Groaning Bob hit the switch opening the trap door on the pit filled with mutant sea bass with fricking lasers on their heads, dropping Connery to a watery death. Then he stood and went to get a Wet/Dry Vac to clean up the mess that was Alyx.

"Next time we'll go with my idea. Vegas showgirls prancing naked over the corpses of Snape, Riddle and Ron," Bob muttered under his breath.

Sunrise Over Britain
Chapter 27

Beauxbatons, Southern France (Feb 22nd)...

The Sheik led Harry and his friends to a large tented pavilion in one of Beauxbatons outer courtyards. With so many representatives present, a number of them had opted to bring accommodations of their own.

Stepping inside the tent Harry wasn't surprised to see it was much larger inside, as well as compartmented.

"Interesting tent, Excellency," Harry murmured.

Sheik Alim glanced around casually, then turned to Harry and grinned. "My first wife picked it out. It doesn't look like much from the outside, but inside there is room for my staff, my wives and twenty of our children."

Harry stared at him in astonishment. The Sheik had to be nearly one hundred years old.

Alim noticed Harry's stare and chuckled, then he glanced upwards. "I have been blessed with many sons and daughters, my lord, but I can only travel with a small portion of them. Some of my sons have gone into politics, like their father. Others into business, and some I employ in the Ministry, helping me and my cousin, the Minister."

Harry shook his head in wonder. "Somehow I can't see my wife having twenty children."

Hermione nodded and muttered under her breath at Harry's comment and he winced slightly.

Alim laughed and passed Harry a tray with chilled fruits on it. "Children are a blessing, no matter how many you have. But come, let us talk of business. The tent is, how would our American friends say it? Clean?"

"I understand, Excellency. We'll be conducting daily sweeps of our quarters, as well. But might we impose on your generosity and use your tent for important conferences?" Harry asked. He glanced to Amelia, who nodded in approval.

"Yes, we have made the offer to a number of our friend on the Council. The Chief Justice was most upset to discover that his quarters were similarly tapped. He has since moved into quarters not far from this tent. Complaints and protests have been lodged and the French are claiming no knowledge of any attempts at spying."

"Has the Headmistress of the school said anything about it?" Harry asked.

"Madam Maxime, I fear, is stuck in an unenviable position. She is the official hostess of the Council and Headmistress of the school, but she is also French and a half breed, holding a position of considerable authority. I believe she is truly upset with the discovery of the charmed portraits, but she cannot make too much noise about them because her position is not secure. The pure bloods in the Ministry would enjoy finding a valid reason to remove her from her position. Complaining about the spying would give them such a reason," Alim replied.

"Well I don't want to get her in any further trouble," Harry said. "I only know her from the Tri-Wizard tournament. A friend of mine, however, seemed quite taken with her."

Alim glanced at him and grinned. Then he turned to Amelia. "Madam Minister, I have spoken with the Chief Justice. He is anxious to meet with you and Lord Potter privately in the next few days."

Amelia frowned. "Privately? But isn't that a breach of protocol?"

"Ordinarily it could be considered as such, but the rules of conduct are somewhat fluid in regard to the Council. Tomorrow we will hold the opening ritual to sanctify the Chamber of Justice. The real trial will begin the day after when you start presenting your case. Please, do not mistake this for any sort of favoritism on his part. He also plans on meeting with the French Minister."

Alim grinned broadly. "He asks for Lord Potter to be present, because, well, he is something of a fan of yours, my friend."

Harry groaned and shook his head ruefully while everyone laughed.

Hogwarts Castle...

The babble of voices echoed throughout the Chamber of Secrets, making it impossible to understand what was being said.

When the Bloody Baron arrived, his eyes widened at the chaotic sight before him. The many ghosts of Hogwarts were gathered in the center of the Chamber, moaning and shrieking. The five poltergeists bounced off the walls, alternating between spewing obscenities and gibbering in terror.

Unsure of the cause of the chaos before him, the Baron tried to call the others to order. When that didn't work, he pinched the bridge of his nose, then took a deep breath, though he didn't actually breath anymore. "I will have order here!" he roared, causing the others in the Chamber to jump in fright.

Into the resulting silence, the dripping of water and the creaking of the castle above could be heard.

"That's better. Now, what is this about?" the Baron asked.

As the ghosts of Hogwarts took a collective breath to answer the question, Peeves shot down from the rafters and stopped in front of the Baron. The panic in his eyes was evident.

"Peeves?" the Baron asked quietly. "What is it?"

The poltergeist leaned in closely, his eyes boring into the Baron's. "NECROMANCER!" he screamed in terror, only inches from the Baron's face. His four brothers began to bounce off the walls, adding their voices to that of Peeves.

The Baron jerked back, startled. "What?" Unable to concentrate over the din the chaotic spirits were creating, he bellowed for silence once more.

"Sir, if I may," Nearly Headless Nick interjected into the silence. "The lovely Penelope would, perhaps, be better able to explain what has happened. She is, after all, the one who overheard the Dark Lord."

The Baron watched as the former student came forward at Nick's urgings. She curtsied prettily, then wrung her hands.

"My dear, what have you overheard?" he asked her kindly.

"My lord Baron, I was watching Voldemort in the Great Hall as he held an audience with several members of his inner circle. They were discussing the need for a necromancer. Lucius Malfoy arrived late and was nearly cursed for it, but the news he brought changed the Dark Lord's mind. Malfoy has found a necromancer. The man is French, and is due to arrive any day now!"

A moan rose up from the Chamber's occupants.

"We will not do this!" the Baron announced sternly. "Panic solves nothing. A necromancer is but a man, and we've dealt with men before."

When Peeves began to gibber, the Baron waved him away, irritably. "We will need to watch for this man. He cannot be allowed to work his magic within the castle walls. As he is not here yet, we have time to plan. It should be a simple thing, to dispose of such a creature."

As those within the Chamber began to calm, the Baron looked around, slyly.

"But is disposal enough? I think not. Perhaps it is time for us to send a message to this Dark Lord," he said, scornfully. "And let him know that the spirits of Hogwarts will not allow him to infest our home with his filth without cost!"

A roar of approval rose up, echoing through the Chamber. The Hogwarts dead gathered around the Baron to plan their next moves.

British Quarters, Beauxbatons, Southern France (Feb 23nd)...

Harry rolled out of the bed and shook his head groggily. He didn't care for the mattress in their room. It was too soft in his opinion and left his back feeling bent out of shape.

Standing and stretching, he tried to work the kinks out of his back. After dinner last night he and Hermione had returned to their room and had fallen asleep very quickly. They had stayed late, enjoying the Sheik's hospitality and conversation.

He turned, hearing a knock at the door. Picking up a robe, he wrapped it around himself and walked to the door.

"Who is it?" he said softly. Hermione was still sleeping.

"It's me, Ginny. Neville's with me," came a voice.

He opened the door and the pair slipped into his room, looking very worried.

"What is..."

"Legilimens!" Ginny said sharply, aiming her wand at Harry.

Harry scowled and tightened his shields for a moment until he realized she wasn't trying to get at his memories, she was trying to give him one!

Opening up his shields slightly, he allowed her memory to pass through. His eyes widened as he saw her wake up uneasily. She reached with her talent and recoiled from the dark object, a vase, planted in their bed chamber. She didn't know what it did, but it was dark magic and it was clearly upsetting her.

He nodded and his eyes narrowed, looking around his own room. He walked over to the bed and nudged Hermione.

"Wake up love, we have a problem," he sent to her.

Hermione stretched and blinked in confusion.

"Problem?" she replied. Even her mental voice sounded groggy.

Harry refrained from laughing and nodded.

"Ginny's found a dark object in her room. It wasn't there when she went to bed. We swept the rooms!"

Hermione frowned and started to get out of bed until she realized what she was wearing, or rather, what she wasn't wearing. She blushed heavily. Although they had gone straight to bed, the location of Beauxbatons in southern France, not far from the Mediterranean sea, made for warm nights. She had retired wearing only her knickers.

Harry glanced in her direction and grinned, then he turned to Neville.

"Nev, mate, turn around for a moment," he said, trying not to grin. Privately, he whole heartedly approved of her choice of sleepwear.

Neville blinked, then he blushed more heavily than Hermione. He spun on his heel and closed his eyes. Ginny laughed at both of them, while Hermione threw on her heavy nightshirt, then a robe over that.

Harry smiled and reached with one hand, summoning his staff to him. With the staff in hand, he started scanning the room.

Seeing what he was doing, Ginny closed her eyes and used her ability to reach out and help him search the room. Then she shuddered slightly and pointed at another vase.

He nodded and started to walk over to it, but he could feel it pushing him away. His eyes couldn't rest on the vase for more than a few seconds at a time.

"Strange. Hermione, I can't even look at this vase for a few seconds," he complained.

"It probably has an aversion charm on it, something like a Notice-Me-Not charm, but stronger. Harry, we need to gather everyone and talk about this."

He frowned at her. "How can we gather everyone if these things are listening in?"

"We don't know if they are listening. They might have another use."

"True enough," he replied.

Hermione walked over to the desk and scribbled out two notes. She passed them to Harry, who quickly read them before passing them to Ginny.

Ginny read the first note.

Wake everyone and hand them the second note. Say as little as possible until we can gather in a safe place.

She showed the note to Neville, then nodded at Harry. The second note was even more succinct.

Dark Objects found in bedrooms. Say nothing. Get dressed and meet in front of Sheik Alim's tent in thirty minutes. -Harry

Ginny and Neville slipped quietly from the room while Harry glared at the offending object.

Hermione frowned and backed away. She could feel the power building as the aversion charm fought with Harry for dominance. The air in the room suddenly turned hot and oppressive. Harry's eyes glowed with power and a faint aura appeared around the black vase.

Hermione gasped, seeing the vase clearly now. With all of it's power being focused at Harry, she was able to examine it.

Harry leaned towards the offending object and there was a ripping sound in the air. The vase suddenly shook violently and Harry fell to the floor as all resistance suddenly ceased.

Hermione leapt to his assistance. He struggled to his feet and looked at her with a goofy grin. "Guess I showed it, right?"

"Right, Harry, you just proved yourself stronger than a vase. Would you like to try the door next?" she replied sarcastically. "You idiot! You don't know what that thing is capable of doing. For all you know it could have exploded in your face."

Harry winced. "I'm not going to apologize. We need to bring one of them with us so the others can see what we're talking about. Besides, I overloaded only one enchantment on it. My sight tells me there are still a number of other, active enchantments."

Hermione peeled out of her robe and nightshirt, then she put on her bra. She turned and Harry, without thinking, batted her hands away and hooked her bra himself.

She turned again to face him, smiling."Thanks. Oh, and don't pick that thing up with your hands. Well, what are you waiting for?" she asked when he just stared at her. "Go get dressed, you big oaf!" she said with a mixture of affection and exasperation.

He chuckled, then started to pull out a pair of black jeans and a yellow t-shirt from their trunk. As he reached for his robe, he heard Hermione snort.

"What?" he asked, his eyes glowing with humor.

Reaching out, she pulled his shirt down a little further and rolled her eyes as she read the lastest message. "Harry, really! 'I'd like to see things from Voldemort's point of view, but I can't seem to get my head that far up my ass'? Are you trying to provoke a response from our hosts?"

"No, this is my response to their gift," he told her, nodding toward the vase.

Thirty Minutes Later in Sheik Alim's Tent....

Harry walked into the walled off conference room to see a sea of concerned faces. Amelia looked downright angry. The six members of her staff looked rather put out. While Harry and Amelia had cordial relations for the most part, her staff seemed dedicated to the idea that she was more important than anyone around her and they reminded people of that constantly. They tended to remind Harry of Percy Weasley, in that they made his teeth itch with the urge to strangle them.

Harry nodded to Alim, who he had invited to join them.

"This morning, Ginny located an enchanted object in her bedroom. She notified me and with her help, I found another in my bedroom."

Harry paused and looked around. "These objects were not there last night when we swept the rooms," he stated with finality.

Amelia leaned forward. "How did they get there then? I thought we warded the suites," she asked angrily.

Hermione shook her head. "We didn't have much of a chance to erect any significant wards Amelia. We only warded the main door with a simple trespass ward."

"Then there must be another way into the suites," someone from Amelia's staff suggested.

"Or they are using house elves," Draco said dryly. "We use them, why can't they?"

"House elves," Harry murmured, his eyes distant. "We don't have a ward that would stop their popping in and out."

"No," Hermione mused. "But maybe the elves do. I'll ask Winky about it later today."

"Harry, why don't you show us what you found?" Amelia said. Her anger seemed barely restrained.

He nodded and placed a small iron box on the table. Opening it, he raised his hand and levitated the small black vase onto the table.

Arthur, who was sitting next to Amelia, looked at the vase in surprise, then his expression darkened. "You woke everyone up over that?" he said, then he stood, his fists clenching spasmodically. Harry stared at the older man in shock.

"Dad?" Ginny said in a small voice. This was very much unlike her father.

"Shut your hole. I can't believe you people! A stinking vase and you're all shivering like cowards in the dirt!" Arthur spat venomously.

Ginny turned away from him, burying herself in Neville's embrace. Neville's expression also darkened, but for different reasons.

"I don't care who you are. Don't tell her to shut up!" he growled.

Harry stood and gestured. Both Neville and Arthur were pushed back into their seats and bound there with ropes.

"Enough!" he said. "We're standing here facing bone fide dark enchantments and you're going to fight over it?"

"Harry," Luna chided gently. "I don't think it's their fault."

Harry looked at her for a moment, then he nodded. "Perhaps you're right Luna. Let's see for ourselves what kind of dark object this is."

Harry lifted his staff and the crystal end cap flared brightly. "Revealus," he intoned.

A small puff of black smoke rose from the vase and formed into the shape of a face.

"Tell me your secrets," Harry said in a soft voice.

"I am a soul poisoner. Exposure to me will foster feelings of anger, doubt, deceit and betrayal," came the reply in a sibilant whisper.

Everyone except Harry, Neville and Arthur stood and stepped away from the table.

"I wonder why it's only affecting a few of us?" Harry murmured.

"My lord is an accomplished Occlumens. I cannot affect one such as you," the face murmured.

Harry glanced over to Neville, who looked ashamed of himself but nodded in understanding.

Harry sighed and he raised his hand, intending to obliterate the foul vase.

"Harry! Don't!" Remus urged.

He looked over at his friend. "Why not? This is designed to start us fighting among ourselves, Remus."

"I know that. I just think we should return them to their proper owners before we destroy them."

Harry looked at him blankly. Alim stepped up to the table and waved his wand, muttering something in Arabic. A bright blue translucent bubble surrounded the vase.

Alim looked sheepish, then he shrugged. "Often antiquities are cursed with such area effect spells. The bubble contains the effect so that we may converse without it's influence."

"Thank you, Excellency," Harry murmured.

"Alright, with the effects contained, everyone should sit down again. Harry, please release Mr. Weasley and Mr. Longbottom," Amelia said, taking charge.

Harry waved a hand and Arthur was suddenly free. Neville looked at Harry hopefully, but Harry stared back for a moment, his expression blank.

"I expect you to be attending to your occlumency exercises, Neville, or I will set Eocho on you," Harry said in a serious tone. Neville nodded and looked ashamed of himself.

"Very well then," Harry replied, then he released him.

Ginny shot Harry a grateful glance. "I'll help him, Harry. It won't hurt me to work on my own," she said, pointedly ignoring the fact that her talent demanded she work on her occlumency almost daily.

"Remus, you had an idea you wanted to present?" Amelia asked, focusing everyone back on the matter at hand.

"Yes. We have two problems that I see. First is to figure out how the vases got into our quarters, and second, what to do with them now that we have them."

"I take it that you have an idea as to what to do with them?" Amelia asked dryly.

Remus grinned. "Yes. Madam Minister, I do. Two can play this game as well as one, don't you agree? These vases were meant to disrupt our group. I say we return the favor."

Amelia frowned. "How do you expect to return the favor? It's not like we can hand these things back to the French and smack them for placing them there."

Remus grinned maliciously.

"Uh oh, I know that grin. What have you got in mind, Remus?" Harry asked.

He leaned back in his chair. "Back in my younger days, I discovered just how uncomfortable a school librarian could make one feel for returning a book late. And since it was up to me to do most of the research for my fellow pranksters, I was usually the one who got in trouble for returning the books late."

Hermione watched Remus and frowned as he spoke. There was nothing worse than an overdue library book in her mind. Well, maybe Voldemort, but certainly not much else!

"Anyway, after one particularly grueling lecture, James pulled me aside and taught me a spell which he claimed was part of the Potter stockpile of secret family spells."

Harry looked up in surprise. "My family has secret spells?"

"All families do, Harry. There are several books of them in your heirloom vault. Your father gave me permission to look through them after we graduated from Hogwarts. We were looking for anything that could help us in the war. There's another set of books in the Black family vault, but those probably contain nothing but dark magic," Remus replied with a smile. "Anyway, this particular spell was designed to return an item to it's owner. In our case, that meant returning a book to the library and when Madam Pince complained, we could always make a case that we had returned the book and she just hadn't logged the book back in."

"By the end of our seventh year, that poor woman needed a long vacation, considering all we put her through," he said with a cheeky grin. Looking around at the people in the room, the grin was replaced by annoyance. Most wore blank expressions, though Hermione, and Luna both looked upset. They seemed more outraged over the treatment of the librarian than anything else.

Surprisingly, Harry was the one who caught on first.

"I like it," he murmured.

"Like it? Like what?" Amelia asked in exasperation.

"Amelia, the spell Remus is talking about isn't limited to books. We could put a delayed explosive hex on the vase, then banish it back to the owner," Harry replied.

Amelia stared at him for a moment, then she leaned back in her chair and grinned.

"I don't want to be the one to throw sand on this most excellent idea for revenge, but can we do this? The laws of the Council are very specific. We cannot attack another member nation," Alim said with a worried expression.

"Yes, Excellency, that is true, but what proof do we have that these vases came from a member nation?" countered Hermione.

"Ah, most wonderful sophistry, my lady," Alim said with a slight bow and a charming smile.

"Alim sure knows how to treat a lady," Hermione sent to her husband in a happy tone.

"He ought to, love. He does have seven wives and twelve concubines," he replied smugly. Then he snickered as she watched the grin slip from his wife's face.

"Sophistry perhaps, but it does raise a valid point," Amelia said. "We have no way of knowing the source of the vases. They could have come from an individual with a private agenda, or worse, through an agent of Voldemort. The Council will have to acknowledge that we British are at war and must take steps to safeguard ourselves at all times. Even in Haven we saw the need to safeguard our people."

Harry watched Alim and Amelia discuss the finer points of what the Council would allow, then he turned his attention to vase sitting in the blue bubble in the center of the table. He extended his senses, testing and probing at the bubble, trying to see exactly how it shielded people from the vase's effects.

Finally he gestured, calling forth his staff. The crystal end cap pulsed with a bright blue light, similar to the bubble. He closed his eyes, envisioning what he wanted, then he conjured a box. It would have been an ordinary box, except that it seemed to be made from blue glass and glowed with an interior light of it's own.

"Dobby," he said softly.

A pop announced Dobby's arrival. The little elf looked up nervously at Harry and tugged on one ear. "Yous called, Harry Potter sir?"

"Yes, Dobby. You know where our rooms are, here in Beauxbatons?"

Dobby nodded and smiled shyly at him.

Harry smiled back. "Good. In every bedroom you will probably find a vase like the one there on the table. It's a cursed object, Dobby, so don't touch it with your hands. I don't want to lose you. I want you to levitate the vases you find into this box," he said, handing the elf the blue box.

"When you've collected all of them, bring them to me. Remember to be very careful. If you can't do this, tell me and I'll collect them another way."

Dobby's eyes widened and he stared up at Harry, the adoration evident in his eyes. "I will do it, Harry Potter sir!"

Harry smiled. "Good. When you're done with that, why don't you and Winky take a little time off to spend together?"

Seeing the elf's puzzled expression, Harry bent over and whispered something in his ear. A moment later, Dobby nodded, smiling widely, then he lunged for Harry, wrapping his arms around one leg. Harry patted the little elf fondly on his back, then Dobby vanished with a pop.

Harry waited and hummed a little tune. Everyone else winced, discovering that while he might be the strongest wizard alive, he couldn't hold a tune to save his life.

Dobby reappeared with a pop and handed him the box. "All done, Harry Potter sir!"

"Excellent! Now off you go. Enjoy your time with Winky. We'll call if we need anything," Harry replied.

Dobby nodded and vanished again.

When Harry turned around, it was to find those in the room staring at him. "What?" he asked.

"What did you whisper to Dobby?" Hermione asked.

Harry shrugged. "I told him about a supply of eggnog and Brussel Sprouts I ordered. They're in the refrigerator at the manor."

When she just looked at him blankly, he sighed. "Hermione, eggnog and Brussel Sprouts to House Elves are like chocolate and oysters for humans. You know Winky and Dobby want to have a baby. I just...er...arranged to help them along," he stammered out, a bit embarrassed.

"So the story is true. It has been said that Harry Potter treats even the lowest among us as equals," Alim murmured with an approving smile.

Harry's expression darkened, but Alim raised his hand, stopping him from commenting.

"I mean no disrespect, Lord Potter. All are God's creatures and to see you treat a House Elf as an equal, no, as a member of your family, gives me much hope. You British have a long history of treating others as being less than equal to you. It pleases me to see otherwise. I have heard the rumors about Goblins coming to your mansion for dinner, and the Elves that call themselves Potters.

"You have a sense of honor and nobility about you, Lord Potter, one that makes me glad Egypt can call you a friend," Alim concluded much to Harry's embarrassment.

Meanwhile, Remus was examining Harry's box in minute detail. Finally he put the box down and looked at Harry. "What is this made of?"

He looked at the box and was silent for a moment. "You're going to kill me for this answer, but magic."

Dan and Emma started to snicker and even Draco chuckled at his answer.

Remus scowled at him. "Seriously, Harry, what is it made of?"

"Magic, Remus," Harry replied, scowling back. "I tried to figure out what the properties in his Excellency's spell were. Given enough time, I probably would have discovered them, but I didn't have the time. So, instead, I conjured a box that has the same magical signature as his bubble shield."

Hermione looked at him sharply, then stared at the box incredulously. Remus tapped the box and it made a thunking sound. He looked up to see Luna and Hermione looking at the box with interest.

"It's solid," he said to them.

"It can't be, Remus. You can't solidify magic," Hermione protested.

Remus pushed the box across the table to her. "You can't, Hermione. I can't. I don't think any of us can. But when has that ever stopped your husband from doing something?"

Hermione shot Harry a death glare. Just when she thought she had seen it all, he up and breaks one of the laws of magic. It was so unfair!

Harry quailed back from her glare for a second, then he grinned and looked at the others. "So, what do we do with the vases?"

"How many do we have?" Amelia asked.

Hermione quickly counted what she could see in the box, plus the one still in the bubble on the table.

"Ten," she answered.

"Why don't we send one back as a warning then, and use the remaining nine as evidence?" Arthur offered.

"Sounds like a good idea to me," Harry replied.

Hermione pushed the box of vases over to Arthur, who picked it up. Examining the box intently, he finally shook his head.

"Excellency, if you would remove the shield from the vase?" Harry asked.

Alim withdrew his wand and waited for everyone to stand and move away from the table.

Remus pulled his wand out and looked to Harry. "I'll banish as soon as you signal."

Harry nodded, then turned to Alim, who waved his wand, canceling the shielding charm.

He raised his staff and pointed it at the black vase. "Praemium una minutae" he murmured. The vase took on an red tinge and began to hum.

Harry watched the vase tensely.

Everyone tensed. They had expected Harry to signal Remus right after casting. The hum rose in intensity with each passing second.

Harry waited a moment longer. "NOW, Remus!" he snapped.

"Ut vestri erus ego transporto vos!" Remus cried, and he slashed his wand at the vase. It shimmered and vanished from the room.

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

"Wait for it," Harry said in a distracted tone, then they heard it. The explosion wasn't that far off and the ground trembled under their feet.

Alim and Amelia rushed for the exit with everyone following.

When Amelia skidded to a halt, her group nearly careened into her. One section of Beauxbatons seemed to be on fire. Smoke was pouring heavily from some windows

"Are their any classrooms in that wing?" Harry asked in a strangled voice.

"No," replied Alim. "The classrooms are all in the outer buildings. And for the duration of the Council, the students have been told not to enter the main building unless it is an emergency. That, my friend, is one of the apartments given to the French delegation."

"What a shame," Harry said, insincerely. Behind him, several of the Brotherhood chuckled.

Amelia turned to the others. "We have the opening ritual to attend to soon."

Nodding, the others followed her back to their apartments, ignoring the chaos caused by the explosion.

Hogwarts Castle...

The alarm had gone out moments before and the ghosts of Hogwarts were quickly gathering in the Great Hall. They'd had several days to plan. The necromancer's arrival meant it was time to put them into action. The poltergeists were not in attendance. Their fear of the necromancer made it unwise for them to join the others in the Great Hall.

Several Death Eaters escorted a man into the hall, and the ghosts got their first look at the enemy. He was a short, stocky man with dark hair and a thin mustache and goatee. Around him glowed a deep purple aura, the mark of a necromancer. It was enough to make the dead shudder with dread. Dressed in dark blue robes, he approached the Dark Lord's throne and bowed.

"Lord Voldemort," the man said in heavily accented English. "My name is Guile Montrose, a necromancer. I have been sent by your allies in France, who tell me you have need of my abilities."

"You are correct, Monsieur Montrose," Voldemort said, smiling thinly. "We have much need for your talents here. This castle is infested with ghosts and other spirits. I want them removed."

The Frenchman's eyebrows rose in surprise. He didn't know what he had expected upon his arrival, but it certainly wasn't an abrupt, down-to-business atmosphere. However, though he'd never met the Dark Lord before, he'd certainly heard of him and was not about to protest.

Seeing the man's expression, Voldemort's eyes narrowed. "You think me uncouth, I'm sure. But this problem has plagued me for months and I am anxious to put an end to it.

"I understand," Montrose replied, bowing slightly. "I am most happy to be of service, monsieur, but I must confess, I know little of the situation here. The more information I have about the spirits you wish to be rid of, the more successful I will be in removing them."

"I thought that might be the case," the Dark Lord said, rather smugly. "I have compiled a list of the known ghosts and other spirits inhabiting the castle. We will discuss them now."

"Other spirits?" the necromancer asked.

"Yes. Five poltergeists, to be precise."

"Ah." Montrose nodded in understanding. "They can be most troublesome."

"Not for one of your skill, I'm sure, Monsieur Montrose," Voldemort replied smoothly. "I have been assured that your talents in this field are unparalleled." It never hurt to flatter the man, so long as he did his job and rid the castle of the damnable pests!

Montrose bowed once more. "I shall do my best. May I see your list?"

Signaling one of his servants with a negligent wave of his hand, the Dark Lord watched as the necromancer examined the list he'd had created, detailing the spirits of Hogwarts.

The Bloody Baron looked at Nearly Headless Nick. The Gryffindor ghost nodded in return before turning to Penelope.

"It's time," Nick murmured.

Penelope moved closer to him and closed her eyes. "I wish it didn't have to be like this."

"We all do, my dear," he told her as he wrapped an arm around her. "It will be over soon."

Unseen by mortal eyes, the Bloody Baron drifted slowly down from the rafters.

"The list is quite extensive," Montrose commented as he skimmed the information.

"How long will it take you to rid me of this problem?" Voldemort asked.

"I will need some time to study this information, but it should not be too long. A few days, at most."

"Days?" the Dark Lord asked. "I want you to start immediately!"

Montrose jerked suddenly and shivered.

Seeing the man's reaction and misjudging it's cause, Voldemort leaned forward on his throne, his eyes narrowed. "You will find, Monsieur Montrose, that I get what I want, whatever the cost," he said menacingly.

Looking up at the thing before him, Montrose smiled. "If that were the case, you would not need me," he announced loudly, his voice smug.

"What?" Voldemort asked angrily.

"If it were true, and you were as powerful as you say, you would not have need of my talents. This problem you say has been plaguing you for months would have been taken care of when it first become apparent, yes?"

"You dare to speak to me this way?" the Dark Lord hissed.

Recognizing the signs, Mulciber moved away from his master's throne. He saw no sense in being caught up in the necromancer's stupidity.

The others, seeing Mulciber's actions, copied them, moving away from their master, though slowly.

"You think it takes a snap of the fingers to rid you of such beings? You are an ignorant fool, a petulant child," Montrose sneered.

Lifting his scepter, Voldemort pointed it at the man before him. "I will teach not to speak to your betters in such a way!" He gestured to Mulciber.

Stepping forward, Mulciber drew his wand. "Crucio!" he cried, pointing his wand at the man.

Montrose hit the floor and, screaming, writhed in agony.

With a wave of the Dark Lord's hand, Mulciber lifted the curse.

Voldemort eyed the man with contempt. "You will rise and begin work immediately!"

Climbing shakily to his feet, the necromancer smoothed his robe with trembling hands and raised his head to look at the Dark Lord. "You are a pig. A foul, loathsome thing that crawls upon its belly in the dirt. A jumped up half-blood who thinks to rule the world, when he cannot even rule his own castle! You are..."

"Crucio!" Voldemort bellowed, his scepter aimed at the man's chest.

"My lord!" Mulciber cried out, "you mustn't!" But it was too late.

Montrose's eyes lit up as the curse flew towards him. Making no attempt to dodge, the spell light hit him with stunning force.

As the onlookers watched, the necromancer was surrounded by light and his body seemed to expand, just before it exploded. Blood, bone fragments and worse sprayed outward, splattering those nearby and washing the Dark Lord and his throne in gore.

Stunned, Voldemort looked at the remains of what was once the answer to his poltergeist problem and ground his teeth together.

The sounds of ghostly laughter suddenly rang out through the Great Hall, and the Dark Lord's followers cringed.

"Mulciber!" Voldemort snapped. "Find me another necromancer!"

Opening Ritual, The Council of Avalon...

Harry looked around the Chamber of Justice with interest. The building housing the Chamber had been erected behind the main building of the Beauxbatons complex. The high domed interior housed the central chamber, where all testimony would be heard, as well as containing offices, floo connections and apparation points.

The interior of the dome had been decorated as per legend, with scenes depicting the life of Merlin. Along the walls were bench seats for the Justices, and a single large bench indicated where the Chief Justice would sit.

Harry and the others filed into the huge room and he was immediately struck with a sense of awe. A court page directed them to the visitors gallery, where they would observe the ritual. Only the Justices would be on the floor of the Chamber during the opening session.

He smiled and nodded to Alim, sitting not far away. Like Harry and his friends, Alim was waiting for his cousin, the Minister, to show up with the other Justices.

The visitors gallery was situated above the main Chamber so they had an excellent view of the Chamber below.

"It's like being in a cathedral," Emma said in a hushed tone.

Dan and Hermione nodded at her comment, looking at the mural on the ceiling.

"They built this building just for one use?" Dan asked incredulously.

"Why not? We built five one hundred bed buildings for the hospital when we needed them," Harry offered.

Dan grunted and went back to examining the murals on the ceiling.

A loud gong drew everyones attention to the floor of the Chamber of Justice. Three sets of double doors opened and the Justices walked in slowly. Each wore a white robe and carried a staff, although the staff was merely ceremonial. Harry knew the staves had no magical core like the ones he and Hermione used.

When the justices reached the central area, they slowly spread out in a circle. Harry saw that the robes weren't fully white. On the breast of each robe was a patch representing the flag of the nation for that Justice.

Another door opened and the Chief Justice entered the chamber. Unlike the others, his robe was gray, to signify his strict neutrality. In his hand he carried an old, gnarled staff that was said to contain a relic of Merlin, his hair, as a core. Harry shuddered back from the feeling of power emanating from that staff. It was unlike anything he had ever encountered before.

The staff seemed to jump in Umtumba's hands and a beam of light arced up into the visitors gallery hitting Harry squarely in the chest. He shuddered and slumped in his seat, leaning heavily against Hermione.

"Harry?" Remus said in alarm.

Umtumba grappled with the staff for a moment, then it was over. The light was gone and the moment lost. Those down on the floor of the chamber hadn't seen what happened, and most in the gallery missed it, watching the pageant unfold below them. The Chief Justice knew something had happened, however.

"Are you alright?" Hermione sent to him. She was worried. When the beam of light had hit him, it was as if he had ceased to exist. Their bond had vanished, though Harry had remained.

She winced as the bond reestablished itself and opened wide. She could feel his head pounding. He opened his eyes and looked around in confusion.

"Hermione? What just happened?"

"You were hit by a beam from that staff the Chief Justice is carrying."

He leaned forward and placed his head in his hands. His temples pounded painfully.

Hermione whispered something and Winky appeared. The small elf listened to Hermione for a moment, then she vanished. A moment later she returned and handed her several small potion bottles.

Hermione was worried because the pain that Harry felt was intense enough to be interrupting his thought processes. She could feel his pain over their bond and couldn't allow it to continue.

"Drink this," she commanded, pushing him back in the chair and placing a potion bottle to his lips. Instinctively, he drank, then shuddered at the foul taste.

"Now, this one," she told him again, handing him a bottle.

He downed the bottle and leaned back, sighing in relief as the pain quickly receded. A faint cloud of steam drifted from the top of his head.

"Thanks," he mumbled.

"Are you alright now?" she asked.

She nodded to the others. They knew Hermione would talk to Harry silently and fill them in later.

"Yes, better now. That was intense. It reminded me of the Sorting Hat, but stronger and less concerned about what kind of pain it caused. All I know is it ripped through my shields effortlessly, then paged through my memories."

"Why would the Chief Justice do that to you?"

"Hermione, you don't understand. It wasn't the Justice, he had no more control over things than I did. It was his staff."

"His staff?" she exclaimed.

Harry flinched at the volume of her mental voice and she immediately laid a soothing hand against the back of his neck. The potions had relieve the pain, but the headache was still there and could break through the potions when pressed.

"I'm sorry," she said softly. He could feel her unhappiness over the bond. She hadn't meant to hurt him.

He smiled weakly. "It's alright. Let's talk about this later. Did I miss much?"

She shook her head and they both turned their attention back to the chamber floor. All of the Justices were now present.

Umtumba stood in the center of the circle, and the other Justices stood two deep surrounding him. There was a good twenty feet or more between the center of the circle and the outer circle of Justices.

In the center, Umtumba began to sing in a language Harry didn't know. He looked around and could see the others of his group were also at a loss.

"He's singing in his native tongue, asking the spirits to guide us," Remus said, then he looked sheepishly at everyone. "Amelia filled me in on what would be happening. Each of the Justices is the Minister of Magic in their country. The Chief Justice is also a powerful shaman and, as is his right as Chief Justice, he's invoking his own native magics."

Umtumba raised his staff and the endpoint glowed brightly. One by one the other Justices broke from the circle and moved to the center. Once there, Umtumba touched his staff to theirs, causing the end of their staffs to light up.

"The lighting of the staffs signifies the light of truth. The Justice staffs will remain lit until the end of the Council. The lighting also formally opens the proceedings. From this point on, all the rules apply," Remus said softly. "From what Amelia told me, from this point on, it is impossible to lie while inside this chamber. Unlike Veritaserum, which forces you to answer truthfully, you can always decline to answer the question under this enchantment. What you can never do, however, is lie."

Down on the chamber floor, the lighting continued with the last few Ministers. When all the staffs were lit and everyone back in position, they turned as one, first to the east, and bowed, then turned to the south and bowed again.

"This seems to have elements of a druid rituals in it," commented Hermione, watching as the Justices bowed through the four cardinal compass points.

"It should, Hermione," replied Remus. "They patterned it after a druid ritual for justice. Remember, this council is built upon the legends we have from Merlin's time and Merlin was the last of the great Druid wizards."

In the center of the circle, Umtumba rapped the butt of his staff sharply on the floor. A great burst of light traveled down the length of the staff and into the floor. The central chamber floor pulsated with a bright blue light that quickly moved to the walls, and then to the ceiling above. As the light hit the great dome and it's many murals, the murals came to life.

Harry and his friends gasped. It was like watching a movie! Each section of mural was a scene depicted from the life of Merlin. One could follow his life from his birth until his imprisonment in the sealed cave. Everything was there, including the Arthurian legends and Camelot.

"It's all there!" Dan exclaimed. "Look! There's young Arthur pulling the sword from the stone! Did that really happen?"

"As far as we can tell, Dan, yes, it did happen. But with the fall of Camelot, the story moved quickly into legend and from legend to myth," replied Remus in a hushed, reverent tone.

The blue light slowly faded into the walls, leaving the murals animated. One section, however, seemed to catch Harry's eye. Unlike the other panels, which depicted scenes from Merlin's life, this was just a painting of Merlin, no background, no foreground, just the wizard. He smiled benignly down on the group of Justices, then he glanced in Harry's direction. His smile broadened and Harry could have sworn he winked at him.

He shook his head. Convincing himself it was an after effect of the strange spell, he seriously considered leaving the chamber and returning to their quarters to lie down for awhile.

Sensing his discomfort, Hermione turned and looked at him inquisitively.

He smiled reassuringly at her and turned his attention back to chamber floor below. Near the Chief Justice's seat, a pair of torches flared to life, burning a dull red.

"The torches indicate the council is not in session. When they begin tomorrow, they will burn a blueish-white," Remus murmured, then he stood and stretched. "The opening ceremony is over. Tonight there will be a banquet for all the delegations. We might as well return to our quarters for now."

Harry and the others stood and followed Remus out of the gallery.

Hogwarts Castle...

The celebration in the Chamber of Secrets had been going on for quite some time. The relief they all felt knowing that they were, once again, safe within the castle's walls, was great.

Penelope, taking a break from the dancing, noticed one of their number was missing. With a frown, she extended her senses, trying to locate him.

Declining another offer to dance, she turned away from the party and left the Chamber. Allowing her senses to guide her, she quickly found herself in the old Slytherin common room. There, she found the Baron floating in front of a large portrait of Salazar Slytherin.

As she slowly became visible, she moved towards him. "What troubles you, my lord?"

"He was a great man, you know," the Baron said, nodding towards the picture. "In the beginning, when the founders of Hogwarts were all in accord, he achieved greatness. It was only later, as the partnership between the four began to fracture, that he sunk into perversion and corrupted his house with his ideals."

"I always thought you agreed with him," Penelope told him quietly.

"How could I? It is obvious, to anyone who really looks, that the idea of a pure-blood ruling class is preposterous. The great families have stagnated, become lazy. The only reason our world has moved forward at all is due to the infusion of new blood. Our world would have developed much faster, had it not had to contend with the cancer that has become the great families."

"I must confess that I am surprised to hear the ghost of Slytherin house say such things. But perhaps I carry a bit of my old house prejudices with me yet," she said, her smile gentle.

The Baron grunted, but remained silent.

Penelope watched him for a few minutes. When it became apparent he would speak no more, she turned away.

"He was an innocent," the Baron said quietly.

"Who, my lord?" she asked, turning back to him.

"The necromancer."

"How can that be? He was here at Voldemort's bidding!"

"No, he wasn't," he told her. Turning around, he looked at her with troubled eyes. "When I possessed him, I learned the truth. His wife is the daughter of the French Minister of Magic and is six months pregnant with their second child. He was contacted and informed that if he did not come to Hogwarts and do Voldemort's bidding, his wife would be gutted and her child removed and sent to him in pieces."

Ghostly tears rolled down Penelope's cheeks and she shook her head. "His own Ministry threatened this? His wife's own father would have her killed? What kind of people..."

"It wasn't the government who contacted him. He was sure of that, though I do not know how. In his mind, the group that issued the threat was shadowed, as though he'd drawn a veil over them in his thoughts." The Baron shook his head, puzzled. "The human mind is a mystery to me, at times."

"So he came here to save the lives of his wife and child," she murmured.

"Yes. And it means that I have killed an innocent man."

"My lord, that's not..." she began as she moved towards him.

"No, my dear," he interrupted, holding up one hand. "I understand the psychology of war better than you. I know, logically, that what was done needed to be done. But you'll forgive me if, for this one night, I don't feel like behaving logically. Go. Return to the celebration and enjoy yourself."

"How can I, with you here, feeling as you do?" she asked.

The Baron reached out and brushed away her tears. "Quite easily, I expect. You are young, and still carry some of the exuberance of life with you yet. Embrace it while you can, my dear. Celebrate our victory with the others and leave an old ghost to his thoughts."

Bowing her head, she nodded. "As you wish, my lord Baron." She curtsied, looked up into his troubled eyes once more, and then faded away.

The Baron turned back to the portrait on the wall and sighed heavily.

British Quarters, Beauxbatons Southern France...

Harry peeled out of his formal robe and pulled on a simple pair of jeans and a t-shirt that read "Voldemort: The reason why some animals eat their young."

Sliding his feet into his slippers, he left Hermione sitting by her dressing table and went into the main common room that connected all of their bedrooms.

"I'm stuffed," he said, then he threw himself into a chair and let out a heavy sigh.

"French food," Dan commented. "It doesn't look heavy, but it can be."

Emma looked up from some needlepoint she was working on. "You should talk, Dan. You came back and the first thing you did was unbuckle your belt."

Dan looked at her sheepishly, then he looked at his waistline. "I suppose I could do with a little exercise," he said softly.

"I could ask Twister to help you, Dan," Harry offered with a grin.

Draco stepped over to Harry and passed him a note, while Dan sputtered excuses.

After reading the message, Harry looked up at Draco. "All clear then?" he asked, relaxing into the chair.

"Yes, and I've got Tobby and some of our elves watching for any elf that might pop in."

"Excellent. Thanks, Draco. At least we don't have to make up conversations now," Harry commented, grinning.

"That's a relief," Hermione said, entering the room. "If I hear one more conversation on the merits of brooms versus flying carpets, I think I'll scream."

Both Dan and Harry looked chagrined. They had enjoyed the conversation immensely.

A knock on the door caused everyone to freeze for a moment, then Luna got up from her chair and went to the door. A moment later, she escorted a tall man into the room.

"Harry, this man would like to speak with you."

Harry blinked and stood. This man was nearly as tall as Hagrid!

The man bowed slightly and smiled, his white teeth contrasting against his jet black skin.

"My apologies for interrupting your evening, but my master asks if he might have words with Harry Potter."

"Your master?" exclaimed Hermione.

The man smiled again. "Yes, I am his apprentice. In our society, an apprentice is always a bound servant to the master. Fortunately, his is a most gentle servitude."

"Who is your master?" asked Dan.

The man straightened up and shook his head ruefully. "I am sorry, I should have said so right at the beginning. My master, the Chief Justice Umtumba, asks for a few moments of your time Harry Potter."

Harry nodded and looked to the others. "I think I should go. I might even get some answers about what happened today."

"Not alone you're not," Hermione protested. "I'm coming with you."

Harry glanced at the tall man who bowed to him. "My instructions were to bring you to him, Harry Potter. If bringing along the young miss makes you more comfortable, then bring her along."

"What?!"

"Hermione, not now," he sent to her. "Just play along for the moment. Let's see where this is going. Remember, not everyone lives by our ways."

Hermione shot Harry an evil glare, then she smiled prettily. "The young miss would be quite happy to follow Harry Potter."

Harry winced. He knew that tone and knew he was going to be paying for it later.

The man beamed a dazzling smile at them. "Wonderful. I will give you a few minutes to get dressed, then."

Harry nodded, realizing he was wearing only jeans, a t-shirt and some slippers. He turned and went back into his bedroom with Hermione right behind him.

"What are you doing?" she hissed at him angrily.

He put his shoe down and looked up at her. "Hermione, he doesn't know we're married. He called you what he did because it was innocuous. I suspect our bound friend out there is very worried that he might give offense. For now, we'll go see the Chief Justice. I don't know about you, but I would really like to know why his staff paged through my memories today."

Hermione nodded as her expression grew thoughtful.

Harry put his shoes on, then put on his Brotherhood cloak. He gestured, expanding his staff to normal size. She glanced at his staff and reached for her own.

"Ready?" he asked.

She nodded and followed them from the room.

A short while later, they were led into the same large courtyard that housed Sheik Alim's tent. The apprentice led them to what appeared to be a small mud hut.

Stepping through the curtained door, Harry and Hermione came to an abrupt halt. It looked as though they'd stepped from southern France to the African savanna. With the exception of the door, there was no sign of the mud hut.

The night sky was clear and the stars twinkled overhead. A light breeze rustled through the tall grass.

"Sweet Merlin!" Hermione whispered, then she edged closer to Harry, awed by the magic. Neither of them had expected magic on this scale when they entered the hut.

Not far away, a fire burned in a pit and a man sat in front of it, singing softly.

Harry reached for Hermione's hand and walked towards the fire.

They approached the man cautiously. Across his lap lay the Staff of Merlin.

"Welcome, Harry Potter. Please, sit and let us talk of things," said the man, then he spotted Hermione and his eyebrow arched up.

"I had not expected additional guests," he murmured.

"Chief Justice Umtumba, may I present my wife, Hermione Potter? She insisted that she accompany me, and given the circumstances I didn't think it would be wise to refuse her," Harry said softly.

Umtumba smiled. "A measure of a man can be seen in the woman he chooses for first wife."

"First and only wife," Hermione said between gritted teeth. What is it with all these other cultures allowing for multiple wives? She thought angrily.

Umtumba smiled, showing several golden teeth, then he laughed and conjured some chairs for his guests. "You have chosen well, Harry Potter. Please, sit."

As they sat down, a house elf appeared and served all three of them tea.

Umtumba sipped at his tea for a moment, then he looked at Harry. "Imagine my surprise, Harry Potter, when, upon entering the Chamber of Justice, my staff informed me that there was a Maglios present. I had thought, after all this time, that I was the last of the warrior kings. Can you imagine my shock and delight in finding another like myself?"

"Your staff is sentient?" blurted Hermione in shock.

Umtumba smiled. "To a point, yes. The Staff of Merlin has ever been thus. It is a guide and sometimes mentor for the bearer."

"Then why did it page through my memories today?"

Umtumba was silent for a moment, then he looked skyward.

"The Staff of Merlin is a powerful tool, Harry Potter. But unlike other tools, it contains a mind of it's own that keeps it's own council. I was surprised when it told me about you. I admit to being anxious to meet you anyway, but thanks to my staff, I was even more so.

"The staff recognized qualities in you that it rarely comes across, but it's been irritatingly vague with me about them," Umtumba said with a bit of a frown. "It asked me to arrange for us to meet. I had hoped to meet and talk with you after the council, but it insisted that we do it sooner."

"Is it telling you anything now?" Harry asked, leaning forward. His sight allowed him to see that the staff was pulsating with power. Unlike his own staff, which contained no power of its own, the Staff of Merlin seemed to contain it's own core of power.

Umtumba closed his eyes and was silent for a moment, then he nodded. "Stretch out your staff, Harry Potter," he said in a commanding tone.

Harry stretched out his staff so that the crystal end cap was pointed towards Umtumba. He tried to suppress his own magic, but couldn't and the end cap flared with the light of his magic.

Umtumba reached out with the Staff of Merlin and touched the tip of Harry's staff. There was a blinding flash of light and a loud buzzing sound.

When the light faded the small crystal orb that served as the end cap for Harry's staff had been replaced with an large emerald that pulsated softly in the darkness.

Harry blinked and stared at his staff. It felt different, more in line with his power. It felt like an extension of his magic, rather than a mere tool for focusing.

Umtumba leaned back, his staff resting on his lap. "That explains much. The staff senses a kindred spirit in you, Harry Potter. The change to your staff is it's gift to you. It also tells me that when you are ready, it will be ready for your hand."

Hermione gasped and stared at Harry. "But that would mean that Harry would have to be..."

"Minister for Magic of his nation, and the chosen Chief of the Council of Avalon," Umtumba said with a smile. "But that is for the future which may or may not come to pass. For now, we have this council still to get through."

Harry shook himself and tried to break away from the intoxicating feeling coming from his staff.

"Harry?" asked Hermione.

"I'm sorry, Hermione. The change to my staff is remarkable. I don't think even Ollivanders could have made something as good," he mused.

Umtumba laughed. "No, as good as Ollivanders is, he cannot duplicate the effect my staff can give."

"What's it like Harry?" Hermione asked eagerly.

He smiled at her, then sent her his impression, along with the fact that he thought he might be able to duplicate the effect.

"It is a marvel to be able to mind speak with one's chosen, is it not?" asked Umtumba with a chuckle.

Harry looked suddenly ashamed. "I'm sorry, Chief Justice. I did not mean to be rude. I just gave Hermione my impression of the change and told her that I think I might be able to replicate the effect."

Umtumba arched an eyebrow. "Indeed? Then you are more powerful than I, Harry Potter."

Harry blanched. "I meant no disrespect Chief Justice."

"And I take none, Harry Potter," he replied with a laugh. "You young people are so serious these days. And as well you should be! But you need to take the time to sit back and look around you. Look up at the night sky, my young friends. Look up and take in the beauty of creation in all it's majesty."

Almost without thought, Harry and Hermione looked up. The southern cross stood out in all it's glory. A gentle breeze fluttered through the grass and the light from the fire dimmed.

"Once, a long long time ago, man looked up from these very plains and could see the hand of the Almighty at work as he crafted the night skies. All around us you can see his work. Man reached out to touch these wonders and was given the gift of magic."

Harry reached for Hermione's hand. Unknown to either of them their, chairs shifted forms allowing them to lay back and watch the night sky while Umtumba spoke. He spoke of mans place in the world and how modern magical societies had forgotten that they had an obligation and a responsibility to not only maintain their world, but to protect it. He spoke of the creatures, great and small, and how they all had their place. And it was the job of wizards to safeguard all the creatures.

Harry found the old man's words moving and instructional. Finally, he sat up and looked at Umtumba.

"The staff tells me you have come a long way, Harry Potter. Thanks in a great part to your friends and to the love you hold for your woman. You have a long way still to go, but having met you now, I can see what the staff sees. You will do well."

Hermione sat up and shivered slightly. The night had turned chilly. Harry, without really thinking about it, cast a warming charm on her and she smiled at him appreciatively.

"Sir, are you aware that we have a child of Gaia among our number?" Harry asked.

Umtumba smiled broadly. "No, I wasn't, but I would love to meet with her at some point. And when we have the time, I would like to talk Quidditch, Harry Potter. I was once quite a good beater, if I do say so myself."

Hermione resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

Harry smiled in reply. After all, Quidditch was important too, wasn't it?

Haven Operations Center (Feb 24th)...

"Come!"

The door opened and one of Caleb's aides walked in, carrying several pieces of parchment.

"The morning dispatches, sir."

"Thank you, just leave them on the desk," Caleb said. He was uncomfortable with the man who had been assigned by the Ministry. Normally, Terry Boot worked as Caleb's personal aide while he trained in the arts of managing a war.

Caleb leafed through the dispatches until he found one that caught his eye. Opening the letter, his eyebrows rose to meet his hairline. He had never received any mail from Luna Black before, and what she was asking for was insane.

Caleb stood and started to pace the room, thinking hard. Finally, he turned and pressed a button on his desk. He had to admit, some of the muggle devices came in quite handy, once they had been charmed to work around magic.

"Send for Twister," he said into the intercom.

"Yes, sir," came the reply.

Twister entered the room a few minutes later. "You sent for me, sir?"

"Twister, good. Sit down. I have a rather strange assignment for you and Able company of the Brotherhood Brigade..."

As Caleb spoke, Twister's eyes widened. He left the office an hour later, shaking his head. Just what did she have up her sleeve? he asked himself. Twister had helped Harry and his friends train in hand to hand combat and he knew that Luna was one of the most dangerous people Harry had working for him. She was unpredictable, unorthodox and lethal, when she wanted to be.

Chamber of Justice, Beauxbatons, Southern France...

Unlike the day before, this day found the Brotherhood seated in the area designated for the British delegation.

They watched with interest as Chief Justice Umtumba entered the chamber. The tall African stood and waited in silence as the other doors opened, admitting the other Justices. When they were all seated, he took his place, sat down and gazed out at those in the chamber.

The torches behind the Chief Justice flared and their color changed to a bright blueish-white.

"The sixty third meeting of the Council of Avalon is now is session. Let no member raise a hand against another, lest ye die," intoned the Chief Justice formally.

Umtumba rapped the butt end of the Staff of Merlin against the floor three times, then he released his staff. It hovered obediently, waiting for his hand again.

Umtumba turned to Amelia, who sat behind a table along with Arthur and several other members of the Ministry.

"Madam Justice, as the injured party in this complaint, you will be granted the right of presenting your case first. Kindly remember that Justice Pierpont will have the right to cross examine your witnesses," Umtumba said. Although he wasn't speaking in a loud tone, his voice carried to every point within the chamber.

Harry glanced up towards the visitors gallery, which was packed with members of the press and other interested parties.

Amelia stood and walked around the table towards the center of the chamber floor. At another table, Gaston Pierpont, Minister of Magic for France, sat frowning. He was a thin man with a pinched face and what seemed like a permanent scowl. He looked as though he were smelling something unpleasant.

Pierpont was not a happy man. He had been forced into this trial by virtue of oaths he had taken and dismissed as being silly years ago. His chief of security had been killed yesterday while messing with some dark objects that he shouldn't have had. That news was kept strictly secret. To make matters worse, his pregnant daughter, son-in-law and his granddaughter had been missing for nearly two days.

Amelia bowed to Umtumba. "Thank you, Chief Justice," she said, then she paused and looked around for a moment. "My fellow Ministers, honored guests and members of the press. It was with a heavy heart that I invoked these proceedings. The past year has been a very difficult one for the British nation. We have become refugees while our country tears itself apart from within. My people suffer under the yoke of an evil overlord.

"Many nations have expressed their support for our cause, either with funds, material or by loaning us troops to help us return to our homeland. One nation, however, has not been so supportive. In fact, their policies suggest that they actually support the Dark Lord and his vile beliefs.

"Britain could have lived with their policies. After all they are but one country and not all that important in the grand scheme of things..."

"Chief Justice, I protest!" shouted Pierpont from his table.

"Justice Pierpont, you will have your say when the time comes. In the meantime, do sit down. Justice Bones is still making her opening statement," Umtumba said with a slight frown. Bones had come perilously close to insulting France, but hadn't.

Amelia bowed slightly to the bench, then turned again to face the chamber and the galleries above her. "In the past months, the Ministry of France has become increasingly hostile. That hostility increased until it culminated in the kidnapping of a diplomatic mission. That mission had been sent to France in the hopes of defusing the rising tension between our two nations. Three members of the mission were captured and subjected to muggle drugs to keep them pacified. Their wives were attacked in their hotel rooms. One was badly injured, but they managed to fight their way to the safety of the British Embassy, and ultimately home. Our protective security detail is still missing and presumed dead.

"And to add insult to injury, they managed, for a brief time, to convince the muggle government to refuse to recognize the British Ministry in Exile. Fortunately, our other allies managed to convince the French not to continue with their course. I only wish I could say the same for their Ministry of Magic and the real power in France."

Amelia paused and smiled sweetly in Pierpont's direction. The man paled and swallowed nervously. Bones' last statement suggested she might know more than she should.

"I call as my first witness, Lord Harry Potter, Ambassador at Large," Amelia said in a strident voice.

Harry stood and threw back the hood on his cloak, under which he wore the uniform of a full Colonel. He held his staff in his right hand, the emerald gently pulsing. In a slow, measured pace he walked up to the witness box. Amelia had coached them all in how to act while on the chamber floor. She wanted to present an image, as well as present the facts.

Harry took the seat in the witness box, then he smiled up at the Chief Justice before he released his own staff, which hovered just like Umtumba's. A murmur ran through the chamber and Umtumba's eyes sparkled with repressed mirth.

"Would you kindly state your full name, rank and occupation for the record?" asked Amelia.

"I am Lord Harry James Potter, Patriarch of the Potter and Black families. I also hold the rank of Ambassador at Large for the British Ministry in Exile and Colonel of the 24th regiment of the SAS, or more commonly known as the Brotherhood Brigade," Harry replied.

Amelia nodded her head and glanced around making sure everyone had heard him. A small murmur arose among the Justices as they realized that Harry held ranks in both worlds.

"My lord, do you remember a meeting with myself and the French Ambassador to Ireland on November 21st?"

"I do. Ambassador Delaflote explained how a group of eight German nationals arrived at one of their custom points, presumably from Britain and were severely ill. We explained that we had a cure for them, but could only make it available if we could first interrogate the subjects. Ambassador Delaflote refused to allow us to interrogate them, so we withheld the cure."

"And what happened to those people, Lord Potter?"

"They died, Madam Minister," he replied softly.

"Tell me, my lord, have any other countries received people arriving from Britain?"

"Yes, three that I am aware of. The United States, Norway and Ecuador."

"And what happened in those cases, my Lord?"

"As per our policy, we interrogated the individuals in question before administering the cure. In two of those cases, they were people who were supporting Lord Voldemort, but hadn't been marked. The third case was a Norwegian national who had to kill in order to make his escape from Britain. In all three cases, the cure was administered."

"Who was present during those interrogations, my Lord?"

"A member of the Haven Hospital staff was present with the cure, as well as a member of the Irish Aurory, an intelligence officer for the British Ministry of Magic and representatives of the nation in question," Harry replied.

"So you weren't present yourself?"

"No, my involvement is minimal. I am the only one capable of imbuing the potion with the necessary magic. Every two months I go to the hospital and help create the cure which the hospital stocks, but I don't attend the interrogations."

"What was the French reaction to the death of those eight people?"

"I was told towards the end of January that the French had placed a warrant for my arrest for my involvement in the deaths of the eight Germans, as well as my involvement in the death of Albus Dumbledore," Harry replied in an even tone.

"Despite your Ambassadorial status and diplomatic immunity?"

"Yes."

"Did you kill Albus Dumbledore?"

"No. We dueled and I had him beaten. He was down, wounded and bleeding, when he was killed by a Snorkack."

"Objection! The witness is not stating facts!" shouted Pierpont.

"Chief Justice, if necessary we shall prove to the court that Albus Dumbledore was, in fact, killed by a familiar of one of Lord Potter's acquaintances, but that is not the issue of this trial!" Amelia countered quickly.

Umtumba leaned back and was silent for a moment, then he looked sternly at Gaston Pierpont.

"Justice Pierpont, need I remind you that no one is capable of lying within this chamber? Lord Potter may avoid answering a question, but he cannot lie if he chooses to answer. Your objection is overruled," Umtumba said.

Pierpont sat again, glaring at Harry and Amelia.

"Let the record clearly show that the witness has stated that he did not kill Albus Dumbledore," Umtumba said, then he nodded to Amelia. "You may proceed, Justice Bones."

From the British delegation a faint whirring noise was heard and Harry couldn't help but smile.

Amelia nodded to the Chief Justice and turned back to Harry in the witness box. "My Lord, as a result of the actions taken by France you did not go on the diplomatic mission like I had originally planned, did you?"

"You know I didn't, Madam Minister. That is why you asked me for a recommendation of someone I trusted, rather than asking me to go on the mission."

Amelia nodded knowingly. "My lord, getting back to the eight German nationals in question, why did you refuse to give them the cure?"

Harry blinked in surprise at the question. "Madam Minister, it was not up to me to refuse or grant the cure. Yes, I told Ambassador Delaflote that we would be unable to help them, but only after he refused to allow us to interrogate them. It is a Ministry policy and I was following that policy."

Amelia paced for a moment in front of the witness box, while that fact sunk into the attending Justices.

"So, you were merely following policy that I had already approved and negotiated with the Irish?"

"Yes, that is correct."

"Do you regret withholding the cure, my lord?"

"Madam Minister, I regret every action I have taken which resulted in loss of life, but we are at war. They were the enemy," Harry replied in a soft tone.

Amelia smiled. "I have no further questions. If Justice Pierpont wishes, he may question the witness."

Amelia stepped back behind her table and sat down.

Gaston Pierpont stood and straightened out his robe before walking around the table to face Harry directly.

"Monsieur Potter, you are a wanted felon, no?" asked Pierpont in an oily voice.

"I am wanted by the French Government, yes," Harry replied with a frown. "But I do not consider myself a felon."

"Ah, but Monsieur, it is through your direct actions that those poor Germans died? Yes or no?"

"No, sir. Their deaths are a direct result of their own actions," Harry countered with just a touch of anger.

"Easy, my love. He wants you angry," Hermione sent him. She stood and walked down the stairs to the table where Amelia sat. She sat next to her and scribbled a quick note, which she passed to Amelia.

Amelia glanced at it, grinned, and nodded slightly.

"Oh, so it is their fault then? How do you come to that conclusion, Monsieur?"

"They crossed the ward twice, once going in to Britain and once coming back," Harry replied easily. He was taking Hermione's comment to heart.

"Ah, yes, your illegal ward, which blockaded an entire country," Pierpont said with a sneer.

Harry sat silent. There was no question there as far as he could tell.

Pierpont frowned and looked at Harry. "What? Have you no comment about your ward, Monsieur?"

"You asked no question, sir. What would you like me to say? The specifics of what it does have been published by several media outlets. As far as it's internal workings are concerned, those are classified and would probably escape you," Harry replied, then he leaned back on his chair.

A low murmur of laughter rippled through the visitors gallery and Chief Justice Umtumba banged his gavel several times.

"The witness will confine himself to answering the questions," Umtumba admonished Harry.

Harry colored slightly and nodded to the Justice.

Pierpont scowled and glared at Harry. "Aren't you worried, Monsieur, that following these proceedings you will not find yourself in French custody?"

"No, I'm not worried," Harry replied, smiling thinly.

Pierpont blinked in surprise. "Why not?"

"Because I doubt your masters will give you that order," Harry replied. He slowly released his magic, allowing it to build. His eyes began to glow eerily and he stared at Pierpont, expressionless.

No one in the Justice stands or the visitor's gallery could see what he was doing, but he was clearly scaring Pierpont, who took several steps back.

"No further questions!" he muttered and returned to his table.

"The witness may step down," Umtumba said.

Harry stood, his magic once more under his firm control. He reached for his staff and walked back to the table where Amelia and Hermione sat.

"We will recess for thirty minutes," Umtumba called, then he banged his gavel.

Harry kissed Hermione's cheek. "Thank you," he said softly, taking her hand in his.

She smiled. "Come on. Amelia is going to be spending the rest of the day submitting motions. We can take a break from all this now."

He nodded and glanced up at where his friends sat. Luna leaned against Draco, holding his hand. Her free hand caressed Fuzz, who stared down at harry with wide, shining eyes.

Haven Operations Center, Q Branch...

Inga sat at her desk examining the detailed plans for another of Fred and George's inventions when something occurred to her and she looked over at her sister. "Hels, have you seen Amy in the last day or two?" she asked, worriedly.

Helga looked up and frowned. "No, I can't say that I have. It's funny, I was expecting her report on the exploding groundhogs yesterday. She doesn't normally forget stuff like that."

Inga stood and walked over to the door that led to the lab area. She opened the door and looked around carefully before entering. Not seeing any obvious threat, she touched a medallion she wore and a small body shield snapped into place. It was a gift from Ginny and enchanted by Harry. By touching the medallion, she could activate a small shield that would repel many common hexes.

Helga activated her own shield, then followed her sister into the lab area. "Alright, you two, where are you hiding now?" she called in a loud voice.

Laughter could be heard from one of the cabinets and it rocked violently.

The blond twins exchanged an amused glance, then walked over to the cabinet and opened it. Fred and George tumbled out, laughing, but looking highly relieved.

"Thank Merlin! If we had stayed in there any longer, I would have ended up proposing to him!" exclaimed Fred.

"That was too much information," Inga muttered with a slight shudder.

George fussed with his hair. "I am, in some circles, considered to be quite a catch, I'll have you know."

Helga leaned down and grasped him by an earlobe, pinching tightly. George winced and twisted, trying to escape her grip. "You are already caught ,George Weasley, and don't you forget it!" she said intently before releasing him.

George rubbed his ear, but he looked extremely pleased with himself. He stood and looked at the two sisters.

"I'd like to thank you both for releasing us from Amy's trap, but if I thanked you the way I'd like, Freddo here would kill me."

"Damn straight!" Fred said with a grin. "Besides, that's my fantasy you're stealing!"

The girls rolled their eyes.

"Will you two get your minds out of the gutter for ten minutes," Inga said.

"I don't know, it kind of sounded like fun, Inga," Helga murmured, then she blushed while both Weasleys waggled their eyebrows at her.

Inga threw up her hands and walked over to a cabinet. Reaching in, she pulled out a ten gage shotgun and she cocked it. The room instantly fell silent.

"Not going to happen," she snarled. "Now where is Amy? Her report on the exploding groundhogs was due yesterday."

Fred looked down and scuffed a foot along the floor. "Right, about Amy. See, I was trying something we bought from Jeconais Jokes in Toronto."

"Oops," muttered George.

The two twins looked at each other and broke down laughing. "You didn't!"

"I did!"

"Which foot?"

"Left, you?"

"Right. So you took the Sydney tube? I thought it was back ordered!"

Inga stomped her foot and raised the gun, pointing it at the ceiling. She pulled the trigger. There was a muffled pop and flowers sprouted from the end of the barrel.

Fred walked over and gently took the shotgun from her now limp fingers. "Flower Power, love," he said, then he kissed her cheek.

Helga collapsed, weak with laughter, at the expression on Inga's face.

George shook his head and pulled his wand. It wasn't good for Helga to be laughing at Inga's expense, at least when he didn't have anything to do about causing that laughter. He fired off a quick transfiguration hex, which rebounded off Helga's shield, hitting him square in the chest.

Fred and Inga joined Helga on the floor, howling, while George looked down morosely at his pretty white dress with pink polka dots and his bright yellow parasol. All in all, it was really a stunning outfit, especially with the wired hoop skirt.

After a few minutes of struggling, George managed to return his clothing to normal and everyone sat at one of the tables, where Helga made tea.

"Alright, all jokes aside. Where is Amy?" asked Helga.

"Sydney, Australia," answered Fred.

"Reykjavik, Iceland," answered George.

The two red heads looked at each other and started to giggle.

Helga and Inga sighed and shared a sympathetic glance.

"Are you sure you want to marry him?" asked Helga.

"Are you sure you want to marry him?" countered Inga.

Their comments sobered Fred and George immediately.

"Look girls, it's simple, really," said Fred.

"It all started with that kornputer upstairs," George added and Fred nodded in agreement.

"Computer," Helga offered.

"Right, the kornputer. Anyway, we were suffering the net," George said proudly.

"And we ran into Jeconais' Jokes in Toronto. It's a wizarding shop and we ordered some stuff from them. They had some really silly stuff, Village People Powder and Spice Girl Sauce, but the really cool stuff was their Portkey Paste. We ordered a couple tubes of the stuff," said Fred.

The two blonds leaned back in their chairs. "And?" they asked dryly. This had disaster for Amy written all over it.

"You know that prank war we've been having with Amy?" George asked in a meek voice.

They weren't allowed to prank Draco anymore, and pranking the woman you loved was a sure fire way to end up sleeping on the couch. That only left family and Amy, and while Ginny was an easy mark, her returning pranks always bordered on total warfare.

"Well, I put some of the portkey paste on her left shoe," said Fred.

"And I put some on her right shoe," added George, which caused them both to start laughing again.

The Johansen twins looked perplexed. "So where did Amy go?" asked Inga.

"It's like this, love. When she gets to Iceland and lands, the portkey on the other foot activates and off she goes to Australia," said Fred.

"And when she arrives in Australia, the Iceland portkey activates," added George. "It should wear off in a few days."

Fred and George exchanged a look and began to laugh once more. A moment later, the Johansen twins joined them.

Meanwhile, somewhere over the Asian continent, a solitary voice could be heard screaming as it sped northwest at high speed. She had long since emptied the contents of her stomach somewhere over central Asia, and in doing so, had inadvertently started a new religious movement.

Beauxbatons, Southern France...

Harry leaned back on the bench and absently massaged his leg while he basked in the bright, warm sunshine. Back home it was probably raining again, with the temperatures just hovering just above freezing.

"There is a lot to be said for this kind of weather," he said softly.

Hermione leaned against him and nodded. She, too, was enjoying the warm afternoon sun. Several of the Brotherhood were nearby, ostensibly enjoying the weather, but Harry felt they may be playing watchdog on him and Hermione.

He had taken Amelia's advice. With the motions she was planning on putting forth today, there would be little need for their presence until tomorrow when the real testimony started again.

"You didn't do too bad in there this morning," Hermione said.

"If it weren't for you, I would have lost control over my anger," he replied silently. "Thank you."

"I know. I was angry at what he was trying to imply too, but this really was a case where you needed to remain calm. And did you see the expression on his face when you told him he wouldn't understand the details of the ward? I nearly peed in my pants trying to control my laughter!"

Harry spun on the bench, pulling Hermione into a tight embrace. He kissed the top of her head. "Oh, Hermione, don't ever change!"

"What?"

He chuckled and nuzzled against her neck. "Just don't change, my heart."

The one thing he couldn't do is tell her that no matter how often she tried to come across as stuffy, she still let part of the girl inside her slip out, like her comment about what she nearly did. She tried hard to model herself after Minerva McGonagall, but Harry knew, deep down, there was a normal girl in there.

A cough interrupted their conversation, which probably was a good thing considering Hermione's confusion.

They both looked up, and up and up again until they spotted Madam Maxime standing nearby, waiting with a slight smile on her face.

He released Hermione and stood, swaying slightly as his leg strained a bit under him.

"Monsieur Potter, I hope I am not interrupting?"

"No, not at all, Madam Maxime. Would you care to sit?" he asked, and pointed to an empty bench.

"Perhaps that would be a good idea," she said. Walking to the bench, she picked it up with one hand, walked back the Potters and put it down in front of theirs. Once seated, she looked at Harry, waiting for him to sit back down.

"Monsieur Potter, as Headmistress of Beauxbatons, I am also the hostess of this council. Like the Chief Justice, the host or hostess of the council is supposed to remain strictly neutral," she said, then she paused and looked around the courtyard and sighed.

"I love my country, Monsieur Potter, but that doesn't mean I love the people running it and I know that those running things are not always working in the best interests of our great nation. I have been... approached you would say... by people that represent a force for change in my nation. They ask nothing of you except that you do not lose faith in the French people. We were a great nation once and can be again."

"In other words, don't condemn the people for what the government does," Hermione murmured.

"Oui! You do see, no?"

Harry smiled. "Madam Maxime, only a fool would condemn everyone over the actions of a few."

The half giantess looked relieved for a moment, then her expression hardened. She looked around warily, noting that the only people in the courtyard were all wearing the same uniform cloaks as Harry Potter.

"Be careful, Monsieur. I do not know details, but I know the current government plots with your enemies against you and your delegation," she hissed softly, then she stood and quickly walked away.

"Well, that was informative," Hermione said sarcastically.

Harry looked at her for a moment. "Actually, it was. She confirmed what we only suspected," he said.

She frowned in thought for a moment. "True."

He stood and reached under his shirt, pulling out his Brotherhood medallion. He concentrated for a moment and all the medallions began to quiver.

"A meeting?" Hermione asked.

"Yes. In light of Madam Maxime's information, I think we might review our security measures again and talk about what else we might be able to do."

Hermione sighed. "I don't suppose we could make it a quick meeting?" she asked, then sent him a few, detailed images of just how much she liked his military uniform.

Harry closed his eyes and bit his lower lip for a moment. "Yes, a very short meeting, I think," he murmured.

British Quarters, Beauxbatons Southern France...

Silence. The rooms were silent except for the common room, which connected all of the bedrooms together. Ginny and Neville sat in the common room, playing a game of muggle cards and occasionally consulting a rule book. Arthur had bought the deck and the book when he was in New York.

"Gin," Neville said softly, laying down his cards.

"What?" Ginny asked in confusion.

"No, not you. Gin, you know, Gin Rummy?" Neville asked trying not to smile.

Ginny shook her head and growled low. "I'm going to kill my father for getting this game."

Neville chuckled and glanced at his watch.

"What time is it?"

"Half past two. Remus and Tonks are supposed to relieve us in another half hour," Neville replied, trying to suppress a yawn.

Ginny poured them both another cup of tea, then she picked up the deck of cards. "How about playing Polka instead?"

"Isn't it called Poker?"

"Does it matter?" she replied.

Neville shrugged. "No, not..."

He paused and cocked his head, listening. "I heard a thumping sound," he hissed, drawing his wand.

In another room, under the British apartments, two elves confronted each other.

"Yous don't belongs here," Tobby said.

"I does too," protested the other elf.

Tobby advanced slowly on the strangely garbed elf. They were in a support room that all wizarding buildings had. It was a place where the elves stored supplies so they could easily get things.

Tobby eyed the strange elf. He had met with the Pappy for Beauxbatons earlier in the day and had been introduced to all the house elves in the school. This was clearly not a Beauxbatons elf.

The strange elf wore a towel in a toga like fashion. It had an unfamiliar crest on it, and it was held in place by a wide leather belt, which held many objects.

"I knows all Beauxbatons elves and yous isn't one of them," Tobby accused.

The strange elf took a step back and realized the wall was right behind him. Two pops from behind Tobby signaled the arrival other elves. The strange elf, realizing his mission was blown pulled a wicked looking blade from his belt and slashed at Tobby.

Tobby staggered back, his hands clutching at his throat. The other two elves rushed forward and the strange elf popped away.

Tobby collapsed slowly to his knees, his life's blood spurting out between his fingers. The two elves, one from Haven and the other from Beauxbatons, tried desperately to save him, but the damage was too great, his bleeding too heavy.

Finally they stood.

"You knows what this means?" asked the Haven elf.

"I must get my Mistress. She will be most upset."

"I will take him to his master," said the Haven elf, who then levitated Tobby's body and disappeared.

"Mistress isn't going to like this, no sir," the Beauxbatons elf said to himself, then he popped away.

Neville and Ginny were scanning the room, wands drawn, when the Haven elf popped into the room. He gently lowered Tobby to the floor after conjuring a sheet to place beneath him.

Ginny gasped and ran from the room. Neville turned to the main door and sealed it. A moment later, Harry walked into the room wearing only his boxers. Hermione followed a moment later, wearing her robe and carrying Harry's.

Harry knelt by the body for a moment, then he looked at the Haven Elf.

"What is your name, little brother?" he asked.

"I am Private Nicodemus, Colonel Harry Potter sir," stammered the elf.

Harry smiled softly. "Do not be afraid, no one will hurt you. Can you tell me what happened?"

Behind Harry, more people came out of their bedrooms. Draco gasped and Luna steered him over to a nearby chair.

"Sir, Tobby, he was checking the store rooms under the apartments. I was in another rooms when I felt the strange elf pop in. I popped into the room with a school elf. We saw Tobby and this strange elf. He wasn't Haven elf, he wasn't school elf. He was strange elf. He killeded Tobby and popped away. We trieds to fix him, Colonel sir, honest we tried," Nicodemus said, moaning and tugging on his ears painfully. "Tobby was our Pappy for our elf fighters. Hows we fights now?" the little elf said in a quivering voice.

Harry knelt next to Nicodemus and pulled his hands away from his ears. "It's war Nicodemus. Sometimes we lose people we care about. We'll go on and fight harder because to do any less would dishonor Tobby's memory. Dobby!"

Dobby appeared and gasped at the body on the floor.

"Dobby, I want you and Nicodemus to take Tobby home. Tell Twister I want full Military honors for Tobby. He was one of ours and we'll miss him. There is space in the regimental burial yard for him."

Dobby nodded, his eyes wide and tearful, while Nicodemus wrapped the body in the sheet.

Everyone tensed when a knock came at the door. Hermione quickly threw Harry's robe at him, while Neville went to answer the door.

Harry stood and wrapped the robe about him just a moment before Madam Maxime walked in. She saw the wrapped body and frowned.

"What has happened here?" she asked.

"One of our elves came upon an unauthorized elf in the storeroom below the apartments. He was killed and the unknown elf got away," Harry replied.

"You realize that I will have to take this to the Chief Justice in the morning, Madam Maxime?" asked Amelia.

"Oui, how could you not? This is too much to ignore," Maxime replied. "When I return to my office, I will instruct our Père to block all elves from entering the school grounds."

Harry nodded to Dobby and he popped away with Nicodemus and Tobby.

"That might be a case of closing the barn door after the horses are gone," Harry added.

"Yes, a number of delegations, including your own, have brought their own elves. But what else can we do?" Maxime said with a shrug.

Amelia looked around for a moment, then she turned back to the Headmistress. "Regrettably, we will accomplish nothing tonight. And tomorrow's session starts early. Let's get back to sleep."

Madam Maxime nodded and left the room, while the others returned to their bedrooms. Harry turned to see Draco still staring at the spot where Tobby had lain. Luna gently caressed his neck and looked very worried.

"Will you be alright, Draco?" Harry asked. Hermione moved to stand next to him. Both were surprised to see how upset Draco seemed to be. He rarely showed that kind of emotion in public!

Draco looked up at Harry and he could see the pain in his eyes. He was clearly struggling with something.

"He... he... he was my friend," Draco finally blurted. He looked shocked by what he had just said. "He was my friend," he repeated in a whisper, and a tear rolled down his cheek.

Luna moved around to his side and knelt in front of him. "Yes, he was your friend, and you'll always remember him as such, Dray," she said softly.

Draco grabbed her and pulled her into his embrace, burying his face against the nape of her neck. Luna looked up at Harry and smiled gently, tightening her grip on Draco while he wrestled with his emotions.

"He'll be fine," she whispered to Harry.

Harry nodded and he motioned for Hermione to follow him back into their bedroom.

The situation was becoming dangerous.

Chamber of Justice, Beauxbatons, Southern France (Feb 25th)...

Chief Justice Umtumba walked out to his bench and faced the assembled Justices, his expression grim.

"Last night, an attack on the British delegation resulted in the death of a house elf. Our Hostess, Madam Maxime assures me that steps are being taken to ensure the safety of all delegations. Let me go on the record as stating here and now that any delegation disrupting these proceedings faces censure and perhaps disenfranchisement.

"If another attack occurs, I will call for six member delegations to appeal to their governments for a protective force of not less than one hundred Aurors each!"

Umtumba looked around, then his gaze settled on Gaston Pierpont, Minister of Magic for France. Pierpont paled and swallowed nervously.

Umtumba finally turned to look at Amelia. "Justice Bones, you may begin with today's presentation."

Amelia nodded. "I call Geoffrey Collington to the witness box."

Collington stood from the British Delegation area, approached the box and sat down.

"Mr. Collington, would you state your full name and occupation for the record?"

"I am Geoffrey Alfred Collington. I am currently employed as a Senior Undersecretary of Foreign Affairs for the British Ministry of Magic."

"You were sent on a diplomatic mission to France. Would you explain to this court the purpose of that mission as it was described it to you?"

"Last month you called me into your office, Minister, to explain to me about a mission you wanted me to undertake. It was to be a small, mostly informal delegation consisting of myself, Chadwick Talbot from the Economic office and Neville Longbottom, acting as military liaison. As with most missions of this type, we brought our wives along.

"Our objective was simple. We were to meet with the opposition to the current government to see if we could do anything to help their position, and we were also to meet with government in the hopes that informal meetings might result in a softening of their position towards the British Ministry and our war efforts."

"And how successful were you, Mr. Collington?" asked Amelia.

"Not very, Minister. We met with the opposition on several occasions, and while sympathetic to our plight, they were not in a position to exert much influence over the current administration."

Amelia nodded and glanced around again. "So what did you do, Mr. Collington?"

"We continued as best as we could, Madam Minister. We met with several minor functionaries within the ruling party and the government, and just before we were scheduled to leave, we managed to arrange a meeting with someone higher up in the party.

"We postponed our departure and spent several additional, fruitless days shuttling between minor people, and again, just before we were ready to leave, our request to meet with someone closer to Minister Pierpont was granted. We were to meet with Jean LaRoche, Inspector General of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. We were told he was a personal representative of Minister Pierpont as well as a close friend."

Amelia nodded and studied some parchments on her table for a moment before turning back to Collington. "And what happened then?"

"On the afternoon of February 11th, we went to meet Monsieur LaRoche at his home. A house elf escorted us into a sitting room, where we were attacked."

"Attacked? By whom? How?"

"I do not know, Minister. My first inkling of trouble came when Chad Talbot collapsed to the floor. A second later I was put in a full body bind. Mr. Longbottom seemed to sense what was happening. He rolled out of the way and took up a position behind a couch. I was stuck and unable to aid him, but I could hear him casting and hear the screams of the people he was fighting as they fell. I don't think they expected him to put up such a fight.

"The last thing I remember is hearing many voices shouting curses, then someone stunned me," Collington said.

Amelia nodded. "No further questions," she said, then moved to sit at her table again.

"Justice Pierpont? Your witness," Umtumba said.

Pierpont stood and looked arrogantly at the witness box.

"I have no questions for this witness. In fact, I have no questions for any witnesses presented. The French Ministry of Magic refuses to recognize the British Ministry in Exile. The only true government of Britain is being prevented from joining us by the illegal and dark magic ward placed around that poor defenseless nation by Harry Potter!"

The chamber broke out in an uproar and a number of people in the visitors gallery started applauding. Umtumba banged his gavel several times to no avail.

"Arrest Potter. He's a dark wizard!" someone shouted from the visitors gallery.

"ENOUGH!" shouted Chief Justice Umtumba. His voice boomed and echoed across the chamber. People cringed and clapped their hands over their ears trying to protect hearing.

Slowly order was restored and the noise died down. The Chief Justice looked down from his bench at Justice Pierpont.

"Justice Pierpont, are you certain that this is the way you wish to go? If this is your desired course of action, I will have no choice but to rule summarily, here and now, against you and your government. Believe me, sir, I will call for a disenfranchisement," Umtumba said in hard tone.

"You cannot! We do not recognize the illegal government that convened this council!" protested Pierpont.

"Oh, but I can, Minister," Umtumba said smoothly. "Your very presence in this chamber, participating in this council, can be considered as accepting the British Ministry in Exile. Had you wished to make this complaint, you should have done it before we convened."

Umtumba looked up at the assembled Justices. "What say the council?" he called.

As one, every justice lifted their wands and the tips glowed brightly. The vote was overwhelmingly in agreement with the Chief Justice.

Umtumba looked around, noting the vote and he grinned before he turned back to the French Minister. "Well, Minister? Recognition or Disenfranchisement?" he asked.

Pierpont slumped in his chair and fanned at his face for a moment with a piece of parchment. "Recognition," he muttered.

"Does the esteemed Justice representing France wish to cross examine the witness?" Umtumba asked in a jovial tone.

Pierpont shook his head and looked up in the visitors gallery for a long moment, then he stood.

"I beg the council to grant a short recess so that we might consider what options are still available to us," he said.

"The council is in recess for one hour. The witness is excused," Umtumba said, then he banged his gavel.

He couldn't help but notice the smug grins on the British delegation.

Hogwarts Castle...

The barracks held nearly two hundred of Voldemort's hand picked Death Eaters. They were the privileged few who lived and worked around the castle full time. There was always a number of other Death Eaters around, but they stayed in temporary housing, or in the repaired homes in Hogsmeade.

It stood on prime real estate, just a hundred yards from the lake. It lay on a gentle slope between the shore and the castle walls.

For the last week there had been a number of complaints, and no small number of requests, to transfer away from the castle by the Death Eaters living in the barracks.

Mulciber was nearly tearing his hair out in frustration. Between the never ending search for a Necromancer and the complaints coming from the barracks, he was seriously stressed.

The men were complaining about strange scraping noises and dripping sounds, but no one had been able to locate the source of the noises. To make matters worse, it was beginning to keep the men up at night.

Up on the astronomy tower, the Bloody Baron slid through a wall and looked out pensively over the castle he called home. For hundreds of years he had floated through these walls, intimidating first year students and enjoying the tales the older students would tell of his grisly demise. If only they knew the truth, they would not be so afraid of him.

The castle trembled under his feet and his eyes narrowed. Four puffs of smoke arose from the ground around the barracks and then nothing. Peeves and his brothers rose from the ground, shovels in hand, miners caps on their heads. They bowed to each other and chortled merrily.

A heavy, grumbling, groaning sound was heard just before the barracks vanished from sight. A huge column of water shot skywards and the Baron could hear men screaming in pain and panic.

When the water cleared, he could see the enormous sink hole that the barracks had fallen into, as well as the Death Eaters scrambling around the edges of the hole, trying to climb out. To make matters worse, the hole was rapidly filling with water.

Now the purpose of the 'digging things' became clear to the Baron. Peeves and his brothers had discovered one of the underground springs that fed the lake was actually under the barracks, slowly carving a cavern as it wound its way down to the lake. The poltergeists decided to help it along with some judicious digging and dynamite, courtesy of Harry Potter.

The Baron shook his head and marveled at the trouble a couple of spirits could get into with the right tools. Even if most of the Death Eaters escaped the trap, and it seemed that many would, they would be a nervous and terrified lot for a while to come.

And while he wasn't certain, he thought he heard a shout for a necromancer coming from the castle.

Chamber of Justice, Beauxbatons, Southern France (Feb 25th)...

"I call to the witness box Mrs. Ginevra Longbottom," Amelia said in a loud voice.

Ginny stepped from the British delegation's area. Walking to the witness box, she turned and sat down, facing those in the chamber.

"Would you state your full name and occupation for the record please?"

"Ginevra Molly Longbottom. I am currently training to be a field medic in the 24th regiment of the SAS. I hold the rank of sergeant."

Amelia peered up at Ginny for a moment. "Don't you also hold the title of Lady Longbottom?"

Ginny blinked and turned to look at Neville, who nodded sheepishly back at her.

"I... well I guess I do, but this is the first I've heard about it, Madam Minister," she replied, then she shot a glare at her husband, who had the grace to sink lower in his chair.

A ripple of laughter ran through the justices.

"Mrs. Longbottom, you had no official standing with the diplomatic mission sent by the British Ministry, is that correct?"

"Yes, that is correct."

"And yet, from what I understand, you and the other two wives took it upon yourselves to try to figure out the hierarchy of French society?"

Ginny blushed for a moment, then she lifted her chin defiantly. "Yes. I helped my husband. There is only so much shopping someone can do, after all. Besides, they needed the help, even if they didn't know it."

Amelia nodded with a smile. "Of course, Mrs. Longbottom. Now, could you tell us what exactly took place on February 11th?"

"The ladies and I were holding our afternoon tea. We met every day to discuss what we had learned and what we would tell our husbands. On that particular day I had to excuse myself to try to repair a new blouse I had spilled tea on. While I was in the bathroom, we were attacked by agents of the French Department of Territorial Surveillance.

"They were muggles, or at least I think they were. They had only muggle weapons and devices on them."

"And what happened when you were attacked, Mrs. Longbottom?"

"As I said, I was in the bathroom. I heard a sound as if something heavy had hit the floor. I walked out of the bathroom using another door and entered my bedroom. From there, I could see Cecilia Collington. She had been injured and was half lying, half sitting on the floor."

"What did you do then, Mrs. Longbottom?"

Ginny said something softly and looked down.

Chief Justice Umtumba leaned forward and frowned. "Young lady, you need to speak louder," he told her.

"I'm sorry, sir," Ginny said, then she looked up at the surrounding judges. "I killed the three men. I knew that they had to have either killed or captured our security detail. I had no choice but to stop them before they hurt anyone else."

Amelia looked up at Ginny, her expression hardened. "You killed them. Why didn't you stun them and capture them?"

Ginny frowned. "I am a soldier, Madam Minister, not an Auror. I don't take prisoners."

Amelia smiled thinly. "Thank you, Mrs. Longbottom," she said, then she turned and bowed slightly to Gaston Pierpont. "Your witness, sir," she said.

Pierpont stood and walked around his table, puzzled. They had thought that all three women had been involved in killing their agents, not this petite child.

"Mrs. Longbottom," he said silkily. "You do realize that you murdered those three law enforcement agents, yes? They had wives and families."

"No, sir. I was defending myself and the others. It wasn't murder, it was self defense."

"My dear child, you obviously think you can hide the truth from us. Why are you protecting the other women? No one here can possibly believe that you are capable of killing three trained law enforcement officers. I know for a fact that you were unarmed at the time! Your wand was sitting on the coffee table!"

"How?"

Pierpont looked smug. "We suspected from the outset that your mission was a ruse. Your suites were wired to record what took place there," he said, then he frowned. "Unfortunately, those muggle recording devices stopped working shortly after our people entered your suite to arrest you."

Ginny scowled, remembering certain things she had done with Neville in what she thought was a private apartment and her anger flared.

"Now, I will say it again. How did you manage to overcome three heavily armed law enforcement officers when you were unarmed?"

Pierpont looked extraordinarily smug as he stepped back.

Ginny shot a glance at Harry, who grinned back at her and nodded.

She stood then and removed her wand holster. Climbing onto her chair, she stretched and handed it to the Chief Justice, amidst the ripple of laughter from those in the chamber.

"Will you hold this, sir?" she asked.

Umtumba arched an eyebrow and reached for her holster and wand.

Climbing back down, she turned to face the smug Pierpont. "You want to know how I managed to kill those muggles you sent to do your dirty work? It was like this."

Ginny raised her right hand and it began to glow. She gestured and Pierpont found himself being raised from the floor. He screamed, or rather he tried to, but he had been silenced. She gestured again and he flipped upside down. She pushed with her hand, moving him to a wall, where she stuck him.

"Like my brothers and sisters, I am never unarmed, Monsieur," she said, her voice emotionless.

Many in the chamber shuddered at the display of power, especially coming from someone so small.

She turned away from the French Minister to face the Chief Justice. She smiled demurely, although her eyes were sparkling with mischief. He chuckled and shook his head, then he levitated her holster down to her again.

Umtumba gestured with his staff, freeing Minister Pierpont, who fell to the floor with a crash.

"Do you have any further questions for this witness, Justice Pierpont?" asked Umtumba.

Dazed and still on the floor, Pierpont shook his head groggily.

"The witness may step down."

Ginny smiled brightly and resisted the urge to skip from the witness box.

Chamber of Justice, Beauxbatons, Southern France (Feb 26th)...

Harry filed into the area set aside for the British along with his friends. Last night had been surprisingly quiet. Today, he thought, would change all that. He was uneasy, though he wasn't sure why.

Amelia seemed to be very pleased with the way things were going. In fact, all of her people were. The Brotherhood, on the other hand, were of the same mind as Harry at this point; challenge Pierpont to a duel and burn down the French Ministry building.

Harry smirked. Amelia had been shocked when Susan suggested just that in order to speed things up. She actually paled when Susan suggested kidnapping the Minister's family and holding them hostage. That wasn't too bad, but then Terry suggested that they send the Minister the fingers of his family members, one at a time, until he resigned from office.

Amelia nearly exploded until she saw all of the Brotherhood grinning at her. They had been pulling her leg and doing a wonderful job of it.

Harry smiled and shook his head at the remembered scene. But he also knew there was a grain of truth in their teasing. The Brotherhood, for all it's outward appearances, was a ruthless bunch.

Harry took his seat and looked around. The visitors gallery seemed especially full today. He felt uneasy and the hairs on the back of his neck started to stand up.

"Harry, what's wrong?"

"I don't know. Go sit with Amelia today and tell her to be extra careful," he replied.

Hermione nodded and walked down to sit next to Amelia who raised an eyebrow at her. The younger witch scribbled something on a piece of parchment and handed it to her. She quickly read the note and glanced up at Harry, who was busy talking to Terry in an urgent whisper.

Harry made a hand gesture and the Brotherhood immediately rearranged their seating. Dan and Emma were now on inside seats, protected by Ginny, Susan and Terry.

"I've told Amelia that you think something may happen today. She knows I can pass messages from you if need be."

"Good... Damn! We never did get around to making those ward busting portkeys, did we? Oh, damn, damn, damn."

"Harry, relax. Luna and I have it covered."

"Huh?"

"You'll see. If and when the time comes, we have something we can use."

"Alright," he replied dubiously.

Amelia stood and moved around the table. Walking to the very center of the chamber, she conjured a table. Arthur walked onto the chamber floor a moment later carrying a large stone pensieve. He laid the pensieve on Amelia's table, then he returned to the delegation area.

"Justices," began Amelia. "As per our motions of two days ago, I would now like to introduce into testimony the pensieve memories of one Trenton Largo. Mr. Largo, a former member of our Wizengamot, is one of our chief intelligence officers in our Ministry of Defense. The memories you will be viewing are his memories of the interrogation of Jean LaRoche, who has been previously identified as the Inspector General of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and a personal representative of Minister Pierpont."

"Objection! We demand to be able to hear Monsieur LaRoche's testimony from Monsieur LaRoche himself!" shouted Pierpont. Up until this point, no one was sure where LaRoche had gone. To be in the hands of the British was a calamity!

Amelia turned to Pierpont. "Regrettably, Mr. LaRoche was captured in civilian clothing, in a secure military facility. At the very minimum he will be charged with espionage. Depending on the outcome of these proceedings, he may very well be executed as an enemy spy."

Pierpont gasped and glared at Amelia. "You are illegally holding a French citizen! If you do not turn him over immediately we will declare war!"

"SILENCE!" shouted Umtumba.

Both justices turned to look at the Chief Justice. Pierpont was panting, his face the color of puce, while Amelia seemed to be calm and collected.

"Madam Minister, how did you manage to capture Mr. LaRoche?" asked Umtumba.

"Chief Justice, unknown to myself, Mr. Longbottom was wearing an emergency portkey that would transport him in the event of his being injured. Mr. LaRoche unwisely removed the portkey from Mr. Longbottom's neck. When the portkey failed to detect Mr. Longbottom's life signs, it assumed that he had been seriously injured and activated, taking Mr. LaRoche to a secure Military facility.

"It was Mr. LaRoche's own testimony that allowed us to rescue our people in a timely manner. Unfortunately, we were unable to rescue our security detail and they are presumed dead. Additionally, to our immense surprise, we learned from Mr. LaRoche that the French Ministries, muggle and magical, are not in control of the country..."

"Outrageous! I will not sit here and listen to you slander my country! Chief Justice, I protest!..."

"Chief Justice, you said we could submit pensieve testimonies. If you would just allow us to playback the recording, it will all become clear in a moment," Amelia said in a loud voice, trying to be heard over Pierpont.

Umtumba looked torn, like a man trying to watch a tennis match and not sure who he should be watching.

In the British delegation area, Harry tensed and opened his mage sight. He felt a tightening in his chest as anti-apparation wards were being raised. He surged to his feet, his aura becoming visible. His sleeve tore away and Padfoot bounded from his arm, growling and snapping.

"WARDS! Shields Shields!" he shouted to the Brotherhood.

As one, the Brotherhood raised shields, Harry covering the main group, while others cast shields on select people. Susan covered Amelia and Hermione who had jumped over the table and tackled Amelia to the ground. Luna cast a shield over the Chief Justice.

Spellfire erupted in the chamber.

Pierpont fell to a badly aimed reductor. Someone was trying to destroy the pensieve in the center of the chamber and had missed. Loss of the pensieve wouldn't really have meant anything, since it was a copy pensieve and didn't permanently remove memories from individuals.

Harry raised his staff and cast a wide area stunning field, taking out a third of the visitors gallery in a single shot. Dozens of curses bounced off the shields covering the British and Harry strained to keep the shield up.

The Justices surged from their benches. Most were politicians, untrained and not capable of dueling. The doors to the chamber were blocked and sealed and it wasn't helping that the Justices were stampeding and piling up around them.

Hermione pulled Amelia under a table, then she started casting up at the visitors gallery, where most of the spells seemed to be coming from. Amelia grimaced and closed her eyes briefly. To her dying day she would never forget the image of Gaston Pierpont lying on the floor, reaching out to her, his throat torn and shredded, his blood fountaining from severed arteries.

"WHIRRRRR"

Fuzz bounded off Luna's neck and down to the chamber area, growing in size as she went. She placed herself between Hermione and the Minister and the remaining members of the French Delegation. Suddenly, she whirred and meeped angrily for a second, then her feet moved in a blur. Floor tiles cracked and pieces of tiles flew upwards behind her as she surged forward, taking down a man trying to get a shot at the Chief Justice. The man screamed briefly, then subsided into a gurgling sigh.

Harry crouched down near a bench, Padfoot only a short distance away, growling, his hackles up. Suddenly, the spectral dog bounded up the stairs of the chamber and pounced on a man leaning over the edge of the balcony. The man screamed and toppled over the edge, falling the twenty feet or so to the floor below. Padfoot fell with him, but unlike the man, climbed to his feet once he'd landed.

"NOW, LUNA!" Hermione shouted.

A reductor staggered Harry and his shield flickered. A bright blue curse hit the center of his shield and it collapsed for a moment. Harry staggered again and he twisted, raising his shield, then he started pointing at people. No wand, no incantation, they simply exploded in a shower of blood and gore.

Luna dashed down to the center of the chamber and once there, she knelt, placing an object on the floor. She tapped it with her wand and it started to pulsate with a bright yellow light. A humming sound filled the chamber and the building shuddered. Large cracks appeared in the walls and sunlight streamed in through holes in the dome.

There was one final, blinding flash of light, followed by the sound of a hundred claps of thunder. When the light faded, the chamber was silent, and empty. Only a few smoking corpses left to mark where the Council of Avalon once stood.

A moment later, the dome, weakened by the explosion, collapsed inwards, burying the chamber under tons of rubble.

Authors Notes:

Chris1: two words Chris.... SPELL CHECKER.

Paraniodofgov: Yeah we could turn them into frogs, but personally we think our way is more interesting.

There has been a number of guesses concerning the latest prophecy. All we can say some people have made interesting guesses, but we're not saying a thing about it. We know what it means, and so will you.... eventually.

Lurk: Next time don't read when you're tired.

Badger-Dude wrote this as a review;

woop woop woooga wooooo!

To which all we can say is, bloop bloop poopa bloop

A number of people were upset over the death of Moody. This is war! People die! It's our job to see that the other poor bastard dies for his country... wait... that's Patton I'm channeling. It was Moody's time. You can't win every battle.

Malferd, please refrain from the fan girl squees, Alyx's ears are now bleeding and I'm stuffing her head full of cotton.

"Dammit Bob! You're supposed to remove the cotton from the plant!" Alyx shouted, twigs hanging from her ears.

"Oops," Bob muttered, running away.

Back to:: Harry Potter » Sunrise Over Britain

Sunrise Over Britain
Chapter 27 - Necromancers, Amy and Trials

By Bobmin

Sunrise Over Britain Chapter 27 - Necromancers, Amy and Trials

By Bobmin

Sunrise Over Britain
Chapter 27 - Necromancers, Amy and Trials