Sunrise Over Britain :: Chapter 5 - Relationship building

Back to: Harry Potter » Sunrise Over Britain

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

Standard Disclaimer:

The curtain pulled back to reveal two large saplings bent in towards a center point. The saplings strained against the ropes holding them in place. Between the two saplings stood Severus Snape, tied to each sapling. There were ropes from his wrists, legs and neck, going to each sapling. Snape struggled against the ropes futility.

From off stage, a small figure with a huge head walked slowly towards the center of the stage.

Down in the front row sat all of the outcasts. Hermione pulled her head out of Harry's lap to watch the action. Behind them sat the authors.

The huge headed figure turned to the audience.

"I am told that this poor being has words for you today. But I don't think you'll like them." said the metallic figure, then it turned towards Snape.

"Tell the people in the audience what you need to say and be quick about it. End their misery mercifully," said Marvin.

Snape looked up and glared at the android. Marvin pulled out the Point of View Gun and shot Snape with it once.

Snape looked over android's head towards the audience. "I regret to inform you that the authors of this story make no claim to being JK Rowling or having any literary value whatsoever. In fact, this depressing chapter is in no way related to the Potterverse. I apologize for what you are about to read, and hope that it doesn't drive you to do something rash."

Marvin the android shook his head ruefully. "I knew this wouldn't come to a good ending."

Harry, out in the audience, barked "Shields up!"

As one, everyone reached down and pulled up an edge of the large plastic sheet to cover themselves. Marvin sliced the rope holding the two saplings in place, causing them to spring back to their original position.

Draco, discovered much to his dismay that someone had charmed his piece of plastic to be pass through, and stood up in disgust, covered in Snape guts.

Alyx turned to Bob in a fit of anger. "These are getting more violent! And what is this bit about Hermione and her face in Harry's lap all the time?" she asked in an outraged tone.

"Violence gets us ratings my dear... and as to Hermione. Well I'm just making Kinsfire jealous. He's trying a non-sex story at the moment and these bits probably tease the snot out of him. But maybe she's just sleepy."

Sunrise Over Britain
Chapter 5

Padfoot Manor (May 11th)...

Harry sat at the desk in his study poring over books. It wasn't his favorite occupation, but he had come to realize the necessity of it. His life and, more importantly to him at least, the lives of everyone around him, centered on his finding the "power he knows not". His search had led him into all sorts of obscure branches of magic, and that was how he had discovered the similarity principle of Voodoo, which he had used to successfully ward Britain against Voldemort's Death Eaters from escaping.

"I feel thy desperation, my lord Maglios," a soft voice said from behind him.

Harry sighed and looked up from his books at Eocho. "They depend on me, honored teacher, and I am driven to find a power my foe doesn't understand, or know how to deal with. My family's lives depend upon me."

"Thy burden is a heavy one, Maglios, but the power thou doest seek lies not within yon books. There is no spell, no special magic to which thou canst use to defeat thy foe. Thy power already works and is all around thee. Thou doest inspire others to strive for a better life, thou doest lead by example and love in the same manner. Thou doest lead and others willingly follow thee."

Harry laid his book down on the desk and placed the quill in its holder. "Then the 'power' he knows not does not mean a magic like I had hoped. And it will come down to a duel between him and I after all."

Eocho nodded gently. "It hast ever been thus, my lord. Direct confrontation is the way of these prophecies. Instead of seeking for obscure magics, thou shouldst be looking to weaken thy foe before thou doest confront him."

Harry looked at Eocho in confusion. "But I thought I could not confront him until our powers were equal?"

"Confront him one on one, aye, that must be avoided for now. But art thou one man? Or art thou a leader of men? And is thy foe not the same? Does he not lead men like thee? Canst thou not weaken him by weakening his followers and make them doubt their choice?"

Harry leaned back in his chair, thinking furiously. "So what you're saying is to attack his organization, to sow doubt and dissension with the ranks of his Death Eaters. We already have plans in the works to do such things, honored teacher."

Eocho smiled. "I know of thy plans and I know of thy fears and doubts concerning them, Maglios. I felt thy concerns when we first touched minds. The burden of leading is never an easy one. Oft times thou will have needs to send men to their doom and it will be unavoidable. Thou canst never truly share thy burden, but thou canst draw strength from those around thee. Thy woman, for example. She is strong and believes in thee, despite her heretic views."

Harry looked up sharply, then chuckled. "I suppose to a Druid such as yourself, Hermione's beliefs would appear to be heretical. A lot has changed in the time you slept, honored teacher. Man has experienced the very worst he can be and has shuddered back from that image. Despite his baser instincts, many strive to better themselves and live in peace. Not everything is perfect or we would not have need of thy help, honored teacher, but know that Hermione is a loving person first and foremost. Her compassion is matched only by her desire to learn. Yes, she is a Christian, of the same faith that ultimately destroyed your way of life. But even that faith has gentled over the centuries. And she is a product of that gentleness. I would rather give my life than see her lose that."

Harry never heard the door to his study open, nor did he notice Hermione enter until he was finished talking to Eocho. He blushed, noticing her, and she smiled back at him, her eyes bright with unshed tears.

Eocho nodded in Hermione's direction and she walked over to sit in a chair near Harry's desk. "I don't think thou doth understand just yet, Maglios. Thou doth wield it unconsciously on all those around thee. Thy chosen one loves thee unconditionally, but thy power has invoked changes within her that she might have never realized had thou not come into her life. Thou art a catalyst, Maglios, and even though thou dost hate the idea of being a leader, let alone hero to people, thou canst help what thou art."

Harry glanced at Hermione, who looked very thoughtful. "I think I understand, honored teacher," she said. "Harry exerts an influence on those around him. His influence makes people strive to reach for their own potentials?"

Eocho smiled broadly. "Thou wert a smart woman to start with, child, but under the influence of the Maglios, thou hast taken thy abilities to greater heights. He hath helped not only bring forth thy intelligence, but hath awakened other things within thee. And that leads me to another issue which I fear I must bring up."

Harry and Hermione shared a glance at Eocho's suddenly serious tone and Harry motioned for him to continue.

"There are many laws and traditions by which the Brotherhood live. Some can be easily forgotten as a product of their age and no longer applicable. Others, however, cannot be so easily dismissed. Of the twelve that have awoken me, only two are married. And yet all are intimate. This casual intimacy is disturbing and will have an impact on thy ability to learn our magics. Control of the magics will be erratic, at best. This is why we only accepted married or unattached members in the past."

Harry seemed to contemplate that for a few minutes, then he smiled. Hermione looked at him, confused.

"Why are you smiling? Don't you realized what a problem this is going to cause?" she asked him archly.

"Are you kidding me, Hermione? Don't you understand? I'm the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry Potter, Savior of the Wizarding World, and in the past few days I find I'm also the Maglios... all these useless titles and the burdens they cause. Then Eocho here comes along and tells me I have no choice but to add another title to the list, and it's the one title I want the most of all. I'm not going to argue with him about it. He's the one who has to tell everyone else. But in this particular case, I'm going to do exactly what my honored teacher wants of me, with no fights."

Hermione looked at Harry in confusion. "Title? What title? He's talking about all of us getting... oh! OH!"

Harry chuckled and looked at Eocho. "Alright, she's smart, but in some ways she can be as dense as I am all the time," he said to the translucent figure before turning back to Hermione. "I know we talked about waiting until after Voldemort is gone, and that was probably a good idea, but we don't know how how long that will take. If Eocho says that being married to you will make it easier on both of us, then I'm willing and eager to accept the title of husband. The title of father can wait until after Voldemort."

Hermione's eyes grew wide and bright with more unshed tears and she reached out to clasp his hand.

"I am willing to accept the title of wife as well, but you are right," she said, then she looked at Eocho. "This is a bombshell. Some of our members are quite young by our standards. And while in your time a girl might be married by the time she turned fourteen, in our time we have certain ages that people must wait for. I will turn eighteen this coming September and Harry will turn seventeen at the end of July. In the eyes of our people, we will be adults then. The same can't be said for everyone else."

Eocho nodded. "I understand. But thou must understand that the magics we will learn will be dangerous, and the bond created by intimacy must be solidified or it can push the magics to dangerous levels."

Harry frowned. "I am unwilling to give up what I have gained from Hermione. I'm not talking about just the sex. She takes my nightmares away... I couldn't imagine trying to sleep without her anymore and I wouldn't want to even try."

Hermione squeezed his hand, but held herself silent. She knew about his nightmares, he had them nearly every night. How he managed to sleep at all mystified her. But she also knew that as long as he felt her presence in the bed, the nightmares were held at bay. He could be in the throes of one and a single touch from her changed his nightmare into something else and he'd settle down. She'd have her own nightmares occasionally and his presence comforted her as well.

Eocho's eyes were gentle as he gazed at the two of them. "Thy dedication, one to the other, doth thou credit. I know the demons that plague the both of thee when thou sleep and I will tell thee that I foresee a time when the demons will no longer bother thee. In the meantime, Remus and I will talk about how to best broach this topic with the others. By your leave, Maglios."

Harry nodded and Eocho faded from sight.

"Merlin, that is going to take some getting used to. He is able to pop in and out without being summoned. And what is this about you being so willing to marry me, all of a sudden? I thought you said we had to wait until after we had dealt with Voldemort?"

Harry blushed and he absently shuffled some parchments on his desk. Finally, he stopped and looked up at her. "I know what I said. I said something that sounded practical, something that sounded logical. I thought 'let's hold off getting married, this way if something happens to me, she can move on'. It wasn't what my heart wanted, it was what my head said to do."

Hermione slipped from her chair and knelt in front of Harry. "You idiot," she said gently. "Married or not, if something happened to you, I'd still be devastated. I don't think I'd want to go on."

Harry reached out and cupped her cheek in the palm of his hand. "I know. I feel the same way. I also discovered when I tried to get my will made that us not being married made it more difficult. I..."

A single tear slid down her cheek. "Harry," she choked, "I want you alive, not your money. I don't give a damn about your money."

Harry chuckled. "Hear me out, love. I know it's not very romantic, but it's important. The Potter fortune, combined with the Black fortune, is one of the largest in the world. Not just the Wizarding world, but the world. I tried to amend my will to take into account our relationship, and my relationship with other people, like Remus and Tonks, but my solicitor warned me that I would risk the will being contested because of the lack of formal relationships. Add to that the simple fact that I don't want to wait any longer. Maybe I'm being selfish, but I don't care anymore. I want you to be Mrs. Hermione Potter. But like a fool, I said we'd wait until after I had taken care of Voldemort and I didn't see a way out of that.

"Now Eocho comes along and says it's a problem that we're not married? He's given me a way out after I stuck my foot in my mouth."

Hermione leaned back on her heels and watched Harry carefully as he explained what he was thinking. Privately she had to admit she had been a little disappointed that he wanted to wait until after Voldemort, but she could see the logic behind it, even if her heart said otherwise. If Eocho would permit, they could legally get married anytime after the end of July. Or with Tonks' permission, before then.

She blinked in shock when Harry levitated her from the floor and into his lap, then she shivered in delight as he nuzzled against her neck.

Castletown Ireland...

Albus Dumbledore and Charlie Weasley appeared at the apparation point for Castletown, then both checked their costumes again. Charlie had chosen a more mundane look of sneakers, blue jeans and a white T-Shirt, while Dumbledore wore a beige leisure suit and a lemon yellow fedora. Charlie was sure that the hat didn't match Dumbledore's suit, but was too polite to say anything. The man was, after all, the guiding light of the Wizarding World, and could wear what he wanted.

Stepping out from the alley way, both men looked around the busy port town. It wasn't large, as towns went, so hopefully they would be able to find out why Harry had been here last night.

Charlie spotted what looked like a petrol station and a bus depot.

"Professor, wait here a moment. If that's a bus depot like I think it is, they may have a local map I can purchase that will help us."

"Do you have enough money?" asked Dumbledore.

"I think so. When I realized I would eventually end up in Ireland, I exchanged enough galleons to get two hundred punts," Charlie said, fingering the money in his pocket.

Dumbledore nodded and Charlie crossed the street, then entered the store. A few moments later, he came back out carrying a small bag. He rejoined Dumbledore and removed a map from the bag, before passing the bag to the older man. Dumbledore peered into the sack and smiled as he reached in for one of the loose lemon drops.

"Thank you, my boy! I don't feel quite myself without a lemon drop to start my day."

Charlie carefully unfolded the map, looking for some sort of clue. "I don't know, Professor. Castletown is known for being one of the largest whitefish fishing ports on the Atlantic coast but... wait a tic..."

Dumbledore peered at Charlie as he flipped the map over to read something on the back.

"Would it be possible that he went to a stone circle, Professor? There's a Druid circle not two kilometers from here," Charlie asked intently.

Dumbledore motioned him over to a nearby bench. "It is possible, I suppose. The Brotherhood of Druidic Knights could have rituals which might require the amplification effect a circle would provide. Circles have a long history of aiding in rituals and rites. And considering the amount of power we were picking up, it is possible that some rite was being conducted. Since the circle is so close, we could walk to it and see if we can pick anything up. But I noticed you're limping, my boy. Does your leg bother you still?"

"A bit, Sir. It didn't bother me when I was at the flat, but we're walking more here. I'll be alright. If it gets too bothersome, I'll transfigure a cane for myself to help."

Dumbledore looked at him with concern, then nodded reluctantly. "Very well, Charles, but if your leg becomes too painful, I must insist you tell me at once. You were injured by a muggle weapon and we do not know what kind of damage it caused. Your healing may have missed something."

Charlie smiled at the older wizard and then led him up the hill towards the stone circle.

Haven Operations Center (May 20th)...

Miles Pickerton was discovering that his days were becoming increasingly busy. Once, not to long ago, he had thought he would retire a mid level Unspeakable and former Auror. And then he'd met Harry Potter and his life had been turned upside down. Instead of quietly retiring into obscurity to live off his ministry pension, he had been sent to Azkaban Prison, been rescued from said prison and given the job of planning the ultimate downfall of Voldemort. It was, in Miles opinion, a breathtaking turn of events. And he wasn't even going to mention the addition of Minerva in his life. Not that there was anything between him and the Headmistress. Of course not. But that didn't mean there couldn't be...

Miles shook his head and tried to stop wool gathering. He had more important things to worry about as he descended deep into the Operations Center building. Over a week ago, Draco had dragged the Weasley and Johansen twins into the building and given them space to work on some projects. Miles hadn't been happy about that, but Draco had insisted that both sets of twins would turn out useful if Miles would just let them have some space.

Space he had given them, on the bottom floor, along with instructions to stay out of his hair. And for nearly a week things had remained quiet. The twins went about their business, and he went about his. Until this morning, at any rate. The morning started out well enough, but he had just set a cup of tea on his desk when the whole building shook, spilling it. That would have been enough to attract his attention, but the building shook at random intervals after that. Putting aside his schedule, Miles had quickly made his way down to sub level four, where the twins had set up shop.

Now he was poised to enter the room they were using and he paused to reconsider. He had his hand on the doorknob, ready to turn it, when the door vibrated again and he could hear muffled shouting from within.

Squaring his shoulders, he opened the door and stepped in.

And found himself shocked. He was inside a small office, which would have been normal for this room, except that one wall had a door and a wide glass panel in it. Inga and Helga both worked nearby. Helga sat at a drafting table, working on a diagram and Inga worked at a desk. Inga looked up from her work at the desk and smiled at Miles. Miles was grateful for the fact that both girls wore shirts with their names monogrammed into them.

"Can I help you, Mr. Pickerton?" Inga asked politely.

"Err... I came down here to find out why..."

Miles stopped and blinked in surprise as one of the Weasley twins ran past the window. He was literally being chased by several hundred dog sized crabs. A moment later the other Weasley twin ran by the window, shouting something and laughing.

Inga shook her head. "Just a moment, Sir. Let me call in the boys."

Inga stood and walked over to a wall panel. She pressed a stud in the panel and spoke into it. "Guys, we have company and I think it's time for you to show off some of what we've done."

There was a moment of silence, then there came a sound of an explosion and the room rocked for a moment. Inga smiled apologetically at Miles. "There'll be right out, Sir. They had to clean up the mess first."

A moment later both Weasley's appeared at the window and one stepped through the door.

"Mr. Pickerton! Excellent! I had hoped you would come down to visit us sooner or later," said one of the twins. Miles had no clue which one he was.

"Now, Fred, you know the rules when talking to those that can't tell us apart. You forgot to identify yourself," admonished Inga.

Fred smacked himself in the head. "Bugger! Now I have to clean the dishes next week!" he exclaimed, then he turned to Miles.

"Mr. Pickerton, how much did Draco tell you about what we're doing?" Fred asked in a serious tone.

"Not enough, it seems, Mr. Weasley. Basically, he told me that you are working on some projects for him."

Fred grinned and Miles, for once in his life, was grateful he had never had any kids. A grin like that should be illegal.

"Well, Sir, let me start by welcoming you to your S branch."

"Q branch," Inga corrected quietly. Helga stifled a giggle at the drafting table.

"Right, Q branch. Interesting thing those muggles come up with," said Fred then he turned back to Miles. "Draco asked us to look into developing a few tools for your teams, Sir. Let me show you some of what we've come up with."

Touching the stud in the panel he said, "George, bring out the fairy flier first."

George nodded and walked out of sight for a moment, then he returned stand in front of the door. Helga stood from her table and walked over to a cabinet and pulled out a small plastic hoop, then handed it to Fred. George placed a small box on the floor, reached into it and pulled out what appeared to be a large fairy.

"That's not a real fairy, is it?" Miles asked, concerned.

"Of course not!" Inga said, indignantly. "The twins would never force some poor magical creature to do their bidding. That's something old lizard lips would do."

"Snake face, darling. We call him snake face, not lizard lips," Fred said, a bit absently.

"Right, snake face. I'll remember this time. Go on with your explanation."

"Right." Fred turned to Miles and held out the hoop. "This is a modification of a prank George and I developed and Draco found out about. The hoop provides visual and aural feedback from what the fairy will see and hear. Through a series of easy to learn hand movements, you can control the fairy and use it to enter a building, or to scout out an area which might be to dangerous to send a person into. The range is limited, only a kilometer max, but Draco said that this sort of capability was needed.

"Because there is no direct wand usage, this is un-trackable by Voldemort's forces," Fred said. As he spoke, the fairy lifted off from George's hand and turned to peer through the window at Miles. Miles could see the image clearly in the hoop that floated in front of Fred. Fred waved his hand in a shooing motion and the fairy took off, flying above what seemed like table after table of 'projects'.

Miles walked over to a nearby chair and sat down, thinking furiously. Finally he looked up at Fred. "This is what Draco asked you to work on?"

Fred managed to look a little embarrassed. "Well, you see, the point of it is, Malfoy... er... that is, Draco, asked us to come up with ideas for things the teams could use that don't require a wand to activate. The fairy flier is just one of those ideas. We're also working on ideas that the teams can use in defense, as well as offensive ideas. The girls here," he said, gesturing towards Helga and Inga, "have told us about a lot of muggle devices and we've been working on coming up with magical versions."

George walked in from the other room and stopped next to his brother. "We would have told you, Mr. Pickerton. We asked earlier if we could help, but you didn't take us seriously. I'm afraid we have a bit of a reputation and it got in the way this time."

Miles leaned forward eagerly. "So what else have you developed?" he asked, his voice laced with curiosity.

George offered Miles two innocuous looked balls. "Flash Bang Nullifiers. The girls gave us the idea by telling us about muggle flash/bang grenades used by the pleasemen."

"POLICEMEN," corrected Helga firmly, rolling her eyes at him.

George shot her a grateful look. "Right, policemen. A flash/bang grenade is supposed to use noise and light to stun an opponent for a few critical seconds in order to overwhelm them. The flash/bang/nullifier grenade does exactly that, except that it takes it one step further and overloads all wands in range, say two to three meters. Total effects last less than fifteen seconds, but that fifteen seconds could be handy."

"We're also looking into making a more advanced nullifier that would work for at least a minute or more, but we haven't got that perfected yet," offered Fred.

Miles leaned back in his chair holding the two flash/bang/nullifier grenades and smiled. "Boys, I take back everything bad I said about you two after your St. Mungos operation. I didn't realize what Draco had set in motion with the four of you, but I approve. I want you all to meet with Caleb. He's one of my primary team leaders. He can give you valuable insight on what kinds of tools his team needs."

Fred and George looked at each other and couldn't help exchanging a grin. They had always prided themselves on their pranks, but this was a level of recognition they never expected. If even only a small percentage of their inventions helped in the fight against Voldemort, they would have something to really brag about.

Padfoot Manor...

Remus stood by the window in the main study while everyone filed into the room. He had spoken with Eocho immediately after the guardian's conversation with Harry and Hermione. Eocho had wanted to speak with each member privately before he addressed everyone again. He had wanted to test the measure of their commitments to their partners, as well as help them recognize the changes that the ritual had imposed on them.

Luna and Ginny experienced an acceleration to their growth process. By the night of this meeting, they were physically the same age as the other students. While neither Luna or Ginny were large girls, the accelerated growth was noticeable, at least to Neville and Draco. Magically, everyone experienced enhancements. Neville received a power boost, as had Terry and Susan. Every member had gained the ability to perform some wandless magic, although Harry still had abilities in that area that far exceeded everyone else.

Remus turned to face everyone. Not only had the new Brotherhood members shown up for tonight's meeting, but Remus had insisted the parents and guardians for the students attend as well.

"Thank you all for coming tonight. As I explained earlier, Eocho has finished his preliminary examination of everyone's skills and he and I have set up a training schedule. Luna, Ginny, you are excused from beginning your training until after your OWLS, which we know start in two days," he said, smiling to the two cringing girls.

"Now, one of the other reasons why Eocho wanted us all together tonight is because of a rather embarrassing topic," Remus said hesitantly, then he sighed and squared his shoulders. "To be blunt, sex."

A number of people, including Harry and Hermione, blushed at his comment. "Eocho dropped a bit of a bombshell on us a while back and we've been trying to figure out... that is, we need to..."

Harry stood, joined Remus at the front of the room and placed a hand on his shoulder. Remus looked at Harry gratefully. "What Remus is trying to beat around the bush about is the fact that we are all intimate with our partners."

Arthur and Terry's parents frowned while Amelia turned to look at Susan in shock. Susan looked back in defiance and lifted her chin.

"Eocho has informed us that the Brotherhood has a special ceremony, a type of hand-fasting, which solidifies the bond formed between two people who are intimate on a routine basis. The reason for this is simple and straightforward. Each of us will be learning magics that, without this bond, will be difficult to control, even dangerous," Harry said quietly. Then he paused, waiting for people to catch up from the initial shock.

Arthur shook his head and looked at Ginny. She blushed, but refused to turn away from her father's gaze.

"Wait a moment," said John Boot. "Are you saying that Terry has been having sex with Susan? And some ghost says they have to get married?" As John's face became mottled in anger, Terry winced.

Remus stepped forward and raised his hands in a placating gesture. "No, that's not entirely what we're saying, John. What we're saying is that Terry and Susan can continue to see each other without the intimacy. If they want more, they have to undergo the hand-fasting ceremony."

John glared at his son. "Well, he'll just have to learn to keep it in his pants then, won't he?"

"Thou wouldst deny thy son of his chosen mate?" asked a voice. The air in front of the fireplace shimmered and Eocho appeared.

"Know this, all. I have spoken unto each member this past week and tested the measure of thy commitment to thy chosen. The bond that exists between each couple is already very strong, but is still brittle. Like iron in the cold, it can be shattered if it is treated wrongly. The ceremony will take that strength and give it resilience. Tis but a simple matter. Each must ask in their heart if they can wait until an appropriate time to wed. Or will they partake of the hand-fasting and seal what they already know in their hearts they have?"

Eocho looked at each of the members, then turned to the parents.

"This must be decided by each person, individually. Advise thy children, but the decision is theirs and theirs alone," Eocho said firmly.

"No, by god, it is not their decision," said John Boot.

"Dad," Terry said, looking more than a bit worried.

"Hush, Terry. I'm talking to this ancient glow worm here." John said.

Terry sighed, pulled out his wand and whispered something, pointing it at his father. Then he stood and walked over to him. The man's eyes moved frantically, but his body remained frozen in place.

"I'm sorry I had to do this, Dad, but you've left me no choice," Terry said sadly. "I'm of age and I'm not living under your roof. Had I not been a wizard and managed to escape Britain, I would have joined the military so I could help retake my home. But I'm an adult wizard, I'm training to be an Auror, and may be able to help my friends and my country.

"Susan has lived next door to us since we were babies. She's my best friend in the whole world and I love her more than I can say. She's an adult witch and she also happens to be the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with."

Terry ignored the pleased gasp from Susan, and the shocked look from Amelia. Instead, he leaned in close to his father and met the man's eyes with a firm gaze.

"We can talk about this like the adults we are, or we can end this conversation. You raised me to respect you and Mum and I do love you both. But it's time to let me make my own choices. Now, I'm going to release you from the binding and I expect you to behave yourself," Terry said, stepping back from his father and releasing him from the spell.

John Boot swayed for a moment and then he collapsed heavily into a chair. He wiped his face with a shaky hand and looked at his son for what seemed to be minutes before speaking.

"When I was your age, I decked my old man for trying to run my life. It's not a moment I'm overly proud of, but now I see that I'm making the same mistakes he did... I'm sorry, Terry," he said softly, then he turned to Susan. "I always thought that someday you'd be a member of the family, Susan. You and Terry were inseparable growing up. I don't know what your aunt thinks about all this, but welcome to the family."

Susan smiled shyly at John and then turned to look at her aunt, who was sitting stonily in her chair, watching.

"There are things going on here that I do not like, and yet I cannot but wonder if we adults are paying for being too lax with our children. Harry is not yet of age and he is engaged. Draco and Luna are bonded to each other. And now my niece tells me she wants the boy she grew up with to be her husband.

"None of these things would have happened if we parents and care givers had done our jobs in the first place and protected our children. A terrible burden has been placed on all of them and I do not like it. I blame myself for some of what has happened. As head of the DMLE, I could have ordered a review of Harry's stay with the muggles, but I didn't. In a sense, we all share a common blame for relying upon Dumbledore.

"And then we stood idly by and let our children awaken an ancient cult with ancient rules and we're again reaping our rewards. Susan, you are the daughter I never had and I love you with all my soul. If Terry is what you want, you have my permission to marry him. I always knew you would, I just thought it would be a few years from now."

Silence descended on the group. Susan smiled tearfully at her aunt, while Terry blushed and looked at his feet. Then, as one, everyone turned to look at Bertrand Lovegood. The former publisher blinked in surprise, and then grinned.

"Don't look at me and expect me to blow my top. Luna and Draco have bonded. She's chosen him and nothing will come between that relationship. We knew they would be getting married this summer," he replied, looking content.

Narcissa nodded. "I have to agree with Bertrand. I would have hoped that Draco would have waited, but circumstance being what they are between them, I won't insist upon it," she said.

Dan and Emma exchanged glances with each other, then Dan shrugged. "They're engaged, and he's already sleeping with her. For us to complain now would be silly."

Harry and Hermione blushed, and Dan winked at the couple.

Tonks smirked at Harry. "You do realize that I still have to give you my permission since you're not legally of age yet?" she asked in a teasing tone.

Harry laughed. "Of course. Just as I hope you realize that the ministry is paying your Auror's salary with my money," he replied.

Tonks stopped and looked thunder stuck for a moment. "Right, now, where do I sign?" she asked, grinning.

Everyone turned to look at the two people that had yet to chime in with their own opinions. Constance Longbottom and Arthur Weasley. Mrs. Longbottom merely shrugged and pointed at Arthur. "Neville's of age, so he can do as he pleases, permission or no. But I think it's all up to Arthur anyway. It's his daughter, and she's underage."

Arthur sat silently his face a conflicting mass of emotions. He glared at Neville, then at his daughter for putting him in this position.

"Dad?" Ginny said hesitantly.

Arthur turned and scowled at his daughter. "I don't like this, Ginevra. I don't like this one bit."

"Dad, this is what we wanted anyway, but if you say no, then I promise you Neville and I will go back to being just a dating couple, no fooling around."

Arthur ran his hand through his hair and Ginny noted for the first time that gray was seeping into his flame colored locks. He looked at her and his eyes narrowed. "No. I know you Ginny. If I said no, you would do just as you said.... until you turn seventeen, at which point you'd tell me to bugger off and marry him despite me."

Ginny looked down at her feet, having the good grace not to deny her father's accusation. Tonks, who could better see the girl's expression, barked out a laugh at the young redhead's mutinous look.

Arthur shook his head and sighed in resignation. "I don't like it, but I don't have a good enough reason to stop it. Neville is a good man, from a good family. Strange. I came here today to find out what's happening with my daughter, only to discover she's sleeping with her boyfriend. That's the very last thing I expected learn. Oh, I suspected, but there's a difference between suspicion and knowing."

Arthur turned to Harry and his expression grew hard. "Tell me this, Harry. Is your little group really what you need in order to take on Voldemort? And did you have to include my daughter?" he asked angrily.

Tonks nearly bolted to her feet, angry and ready to pounce on the man, but Remus held her back. "Wait," he murmured, his gray eyes stormy with suppressed anger.

Harry sat up straight and looked at Arthur. "I didn't include your daughter, Mr. Weasley, she included herself and gave me her trust and friendship. Were it not for her and your sons, Fred and George, you and the rest of your family would probably be in a camp in Surrey right now. Take a look around you, man! How many of the Order of the Phoenix did I bring from England with me? Your daughter earned my respect and my love and she earned you your place here in Haven. She's like a sister to me. And yes, each and every person in this room will play a role when I face Voldemort, including yourself, Arthur. I have to face him, but it will be the job of everyone else here to make sure I get that opportunity."

Arthur reeled back in his chair as if Harry had slapped him and Ginny glared daggers at her own father.

"Harry," Hermione said, laying a hand on his.

"No, Hermione. He asked and has a right to know. There will come a point in time when we will all be in danger. There will be a point when lives are on the line and some of us might not come back. None of us knew what would happen when we invoked the summoning for Eocho, but all of us knew, without a doubt, that we would be facing Voldemort. And still we came, as you did, Arthur."

"Harry... I apologize. I was out of line," offered Arthur. "It's just...she's my daughter..."

Harry held up his hand, stopping him. "Arthur, she's not my daughter. She isn't even of my blood. But I love her like a sister. I can't promise that she'll always be safe, but each of us would give our life for each other."

Arthur nodded and looked at Ginny, who was sitting across from him, her eyes flashing dangerously. "Ginny," he said, waving her to come to him.

She stood and walked to him, her gait stiff. He reached out and took her hand in his. "We have paid a heavy price in this war. Percy, Ronald, your mother. I didn't want you to become part of that price, Ginny."

Her gaze softened and she squeezed his hand. "You can't protect me forever. The Brotherhood will help by giving me the ability to protect myself, and my brothers and sisters," she replied in a whisper.

"I know, but it's hard to let go."

"I'm not asking you to let go, Dad. I never will. I'm just asking that you don't strangle me."

Arthur nodded and pulled her into his embrace. "You'll always be my little princess, you know."

Ginny's eyes grew bright with unshed tears and she nodded against his shoulder. "I wouldn't want to be anything else."

First Date...

"The patient in bed two is still waiting for her dinner, Ester," Melinda said as she scribbled a quick note in a patient's file before dropping into the pile of folders on the desk. "For some reason, she insisted on muggle gelatin for her dessert and the kitchen staff assured her they could provide it. Other than that, the ward's quiet and most have been bedded down for the night."

She stood up, stretched tiredly and smiled at the other woman's snort of amusement. "The paperwork for the day shift is done and I'm going home."

"I told you that you should have put in for night-shift work, Melinda," the older woman said, her eyes dancing. "The ward's much quieter."

"And boring," Melinda added.

"True, but it helps me catch up on my reading. Besides, we're not exactly running over with patients, so I don't image the day-shift is any more exciting," Ester commented as she slid into the chair behind the desk and watched the other woman put on her coat.

"That will change," Melinda said quietly, her eyes darkening at the thought. "And Merlin help us all when it does."

When Ester made an unhappy noise, Melinda looked up. "In any event, I leave the ward in your capable hands. I'll see you in the morning."

Taking her leave of the older woman, she headed for the exit. Stepping out into the night, she pulled her coat a bit tighter and tried to shake the dark thoughts that followed her towards home.

The hospital was equipped to handle most situations, but she was worried about what would happen when the rescue teams became assault teams. The number of patients would skyrocket, and the casualties...

She bit her lip and tried to force her mind in another direction, then jumped, startled, as a voice called out from the darkness.

"Melinda?"

"Arthur? Is that you?"

"Yes. What are you doing out here so late?" the redhead asked as he approached her.

"My shift just ended," she told him, waving a hand towards the hospital. "Is there something wrong?"

"Yes. I mean, no, not really..." He trailed off, running a hand through his thinning hair. He smiled weakly at her. "It's good to see you again. Are you getting settled in all right?"

"Yes, fine. Thank you for asking."

"And the hospital? Things are well?" he asked distractedly.

"Yes. We don't have many patients, but I was able to brew some needed potions today and..." She stopped speaking for a moment and looked at him carefully. "Arthur, what is it? What has you so upset?"

"It's nothing, my dear." He gazed off towards the manor in the distance and she watched as he clenched his fists.

"So you routinely take walks in the dark?"

When he said nothing, only continued to look towards the manor, she sighed. Sliding an arm through his, she felt his body tense further. His head whipped around and he stared down at her. "A wise woman told me not long ago that denying our emotions only makes things worse in the end. I didn't believe her. At least, not in the beginning."

"It sounds as though you've been speaking to Mrs. Johansen," he said as she began to pull him down the path towards the village in the distance.

"I have and it helped. I know we don't know each other well, but I'm willing to listen. If you're uncomfortable in sharing your troubles with me, I certainly understand. Either way, Olga was right. Talking with someone can help."

"Where are we going?" he asked, ignoring her not so subtle suggestion.

"The village. I haven't had dinner yet and they're still serving in the community kitchen for another half hour. Olga found out that those of us getting off at the hospital at the end of shift were too late to take dinner in the kitchen and persuaded them to stay open an hour later."

"You don't eat at the hospital?"

"Usually, yes, though not everyone does so. Tonight, however, the kitchen staff was obsessed with some sort of muggle dish a patient asked for and were a bit harried, so I figured I'd drop into the kitchen in the village."

"Muggle dish?" he asked, intrigued. "What was it?"

"Something called gelatin," she told him, her face screwing up. "I'm not sure they got it right, though. It moves, Arthur. It jiggles like a cup of flubber worms!"

"How intriguing! Do you think they'd have any left?"

"I'm sure they do. The cooks were so fascinated by the stuff that they made tubs of it," she told him, shuddering slightly.

They chatted about inconsequential things as they entered the village and followed the path to the kitchen.

Entering the large room, they stopped and looked around. Several long tables were set up in the hall and the meals were served buffet style from a large steel counter near the kitchen proper. There were a few people about yet, though the kitchen staff seemed to be cleaning up.

"We seem to be a bit late," Arthur said, frowning.

"You're right. Oh, don't worry," she said, smiling at his expression. "I have food in the cottage, I just didn't feel like cooking tonight." She looked towards the counter and spotted a familiar face. "Ah, there's Inga. Maybe she can squeeze me in."

Dragging him towards the younger woman, she smiled when the blond looked up and grinned.

"Melinda! It's good to see you," Inga told her as she stacked unused plates.

"Hi, Inga. Are you working here now?"

"Oh, no. Joyce was sick. Fred's busy with Draco tonight, so I said I'd fill in for her," the blond said. She turned her gaze to Arthur and flushed slightly. "Hello, Mr. Weasley. It's nice to see you."

"Good evening, Inga," he replied. "It looks as though you're cleaning up, but do you think you could spare a meal for a hungry healer who just got off work?"

"Healer? Oh, Melinda! Sure, no problem. We're still serving for another fifteen minutes. It's just soup and sandwiches tonight, I'm afraid. Why don't you both go sit and I'll bring it out to you?"

As they found a quiet spot in the dining hall away from the noise of the kitchen, Arthur looked around with interest. He'd been there before, of course, but he'd never really paid much attention to it, as he normally took his meals at the manor.

The hall was much like the Great Hall in Hogwarts, though not nearly as large. The concept was similar, however, and allowed for a great number of people to be served very quickly.

When Inga approached the table with a large tray, Melinda's stomach growled and she laughed. "I guess I was more hungry than I thought!"

"We'll fix that right up," Inga told her as she put the tray on the table. Unloading it, she smiled at them both. "I know it's not fancy, but it's filling!"

"You're a life saver," Melinda told her. "I wasn't looking forward to cooking. I'm not very good at it, you see. Your mother offered to teach me, and I'm thinking of taking her up on it."

"She'd be happy to do it! Mama loves to cook." She then placed a platter of sandwiches and two bowls of soup on the table in front of them, along with two glasses of pumpkin juice. "We have milk, if you'd prefer, over on the sideboard," she told them, pointing.

"This is fine, Inga. Thank you," Melinda said, unfolding her napkin and placing it in her lap.

"Oh, but I wasn't really hungry," Arthur said, frowning down at the bowl in front of him.

"Nonsense. The soup is delicious," Melinda told him. "Try it."

"Well, if there's nothing else?" Inga asked.

"No, this is heaven. Thanks, Inga. Tell your family hello for me."

"I will," she said, her eyes dancing as she looked between the two. When Melinda flushed and stared at her soup, she grinned and picked up the tray. "Just leave your dishes when you're done," she called out as she turned away and went back to the kitchen.

"Well, that was...awkward," Arthur said quietly as he fussed with his napkin.

"Awkward? Why?" Melinda asked.

"She's dating my son."

"I'm aware of that. How does that make anything awkward?"

"You don't know my sons, Melinda," he told her, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes.

"You think they'll be upset over...this?" she asked, waving a hand to encompass the hall.

"No, of course not. It's more a matter of them teasing me about...this," he replied, pointing at her and then himself.

Her eyes widened as she began to understand. "But we're just two friends sharing a meal," she protested.

"Maybe," he replied as he picked up a sandwich and stared at it as though it contained all the answers he sought.

"Maybe," she repeated quietly, her voice emotionless. "I see."

When he dropped the sandwich back onto the platter and grabbed her hand, she looked up at him, startled.

"No, I don't think you do. Of course we're friends, Melinda, but the twins are different. They live for a good prank, and the Johansen twins are just like them. Inga will tell Fred that we were here together. Fred will tell George, then they'll tell Bill and Ginny. Normally, I wouldn't mind that. But after the argument Ginny and I had tonight... Well, things are...difficult...right now."

"Arthur," she said gently, "it's just a meal. If you're uncomfortable being here with me..."

"No, it's not that. I like being with you, spending time with you." He blushed and began to stammer, but she interrupted him.

"I enjoy being with you, as well. Why don't we just leave it at that, for now?"

"Right, good." He reached for the sandwich he'd dropped, only to realize he still held her hand. "Sorry," he said, dropping it quickly.

Picking up her spoon, she thought it best not to tell him that Inga was watching them both with mischievous eyes. "So, you had an argument with your daughter tonight?"

"What? Oh, yes." He began to eat, just for something to do.

"Is that why you were out walking?" she asked him as she turned her attention to her meal.

"Yes. I said some things to her and to Harry that I'm not proud of. I didn't think my way through the situation, I simply reacted to it."

"Ah, yes. The one disease we've yet to find a cure for," she said quietly.

"Disease?"

"Foot-in-Mouth disease. Very dangerous," she told him, her eyes bright.

When he simply stared at her uncomprehendingly, she shook her head. "Arthur, we've all had the same problem at one point or another. It's worse when it hurts those we love, but it happens."

"That doesn't excuse what I said."

"Of course it doesn't. But I'm sure she's forgiven you."

"Maybe, but I'm not sure I can forgive myself. Had I not been so trusting, so willing to blindly follow where others led, my daughter wouldn't now be in this situation, and I wouldn't have lashed out at Harry for it," he told her miserably. "I've no one to blame but myself, of course."

"What situation?" she asked him gently, her face puzzled.

"They have to get married. Hand-fasting they're calling it, but it amounts to the same thing."

"Have too...? Arthur, I know our society is a bit archaic, but surely they don't have to get married! There are other options these days. Things aren't as bad as you think."

"Options? Of course there aren't any options. Oh, she'd stop if I asked her, but once she turned seventeen, she'd tell me to bugger off and I'd lose her."

"Stop? What are you talking about? You can't just wave a wand and make pregnancy go away!" she told him firmly.

"Pregnancy? What?!" he exclaimed, his eyes boring into hers.

"So she made a mistake. Forcing her to marry because of it is a good way of insuring she's miserable for the rest of her life," Melinda told him, her eyes sparkling with anger.

"Are you mad? She's not pregnant," he told her indignantly.

"Wait. Not pregnant, you say?"

"Of course not! There are charms for that sort of thing, you know."

"Strangely enough, I did. It might have something to do with being a healer, or perhaps it was having been married that taught me," she said sarcastically.

"What on earth made you think she was pregnant?" he asked her, bewildered.

"You said she 'had to' get married. That generally only means one thing in our society, Arthur. And as I'm obviously missing an important piece of information, I took the only reason left open to me...pregnancy."

He sat back on the bench a bit and stared at her. "I'm sorry, Melinda. I didn't mean to snap at you that way." He shook his head and grinned. "Pregnant. Merlin, I never thought of that. You're right. Things could be worse."

"Right, pregnancy is worse. Hello? Still missing the point of this over here," she told him, a bit aggrieved.

"Sorry. To sum it up quickly, Harry, Ginny, Remus and several others performed a ritual. As a result, those involved must become hand-fasted." Seeing the question in her eyes, he held up a hand. "I can't go into details about the ritual itself, Melinda. I'm sorry," he told her gently.

"All right. So your daughter took part in this ritual and now must become hand-fasted to Harry?" she asked, trying to clarify the situation.

"Harry? Merlin, no! She'll be hand-fasted to her boyfriend, Neville."

"Neville? But you said... Nevermind, I'm getting a headache," she muttered, squeezing her eyes closed.

Arthur leaned over the table and took her hand. "Would you like me to get you a potion, my dear?"

"What? Oh, no. That's all right," she said. Opening her eyes and seeing the concern in his, she sighed. "So, Ginny is to become hand-fasted to her boyfriend, Neville, due to some ritual they performed. Do I have that straight?"

"Yes, that's about right," he replied, leaning back, but keeping her hand in his. "It came at me a bit suddenly. Well, to be fair, it came at everyone a bit suddenly. Those that performed the ritual were no more aware of the outcome than those of us who didn't. I found out about it tonight and the shock of it ... well, I didn't behave well. I left the manor to try to clear my head, but wasn't succeeding very well."

"I'm sorry, Arthur. I wish I could help," she told him, squeezing his hand gently.

"But you have." At her puzzled look, he grinned again. "You were right. It could be worse. Rather than being hand-fasted, Ginny could have been getting married because she was pregnant."

"True," she murmured, picking up her glass and taking a sip. She thought about lecturing him about pregnancy not being a dread disease, but changed her mind. A father was a different creature all together, and she wasn't about to tackle the little-girl-vs-mature-woman issue with him. At least, not tonight.

"I think part of the problem was sex, you see," he told her merrily, having sorted out the problem in his mind.

She choked on her pumpkin juice. "I beg your pardon?"

"It wasn't so much the hand-fasting that bothered me. It was the fact that I found out she was having sex with Neville." His eyes grew distant and he rubbed a thumb gently over the back of her hand as he thought about it. "I'd always known the possibility was there, you understand. But being told, flat out and without any prevarication that, yes, your daughter is having sex with her boyfriend? Well, it hit me rather hard, you see."

"I do, yes."

"It's fine for me to have a sex life, and the boys, of course. But my daughter? No father wants to hear that!"

Her eyes danced. "You have one, then?"

"Have one what?" he asked, his eyes finally returning to hers.

"A sex life," she said bluntly.

"Melinda!" he exclaimed, blushing furiously.

"What? You brought it up."

"I did not! Oh, well, maybe I did. But you don't just ask a person something like that!"

"Why not? It's not as though it's illegal," she told him, grinning outright.

"It's not a topic generally spoken of in public," he said, snatching his hand away from hers.

"Public? Arthur, on the off chance that you hadn't noticed, the kitchen closed quite some time ago."

He looked around jerkily. Most of the lights were shut off, the serving counter was clear of dishes and the hall was empty.

"Oh, right," he said dumbly.

When she stood up, he looked back at her, his face still ablaze with color. "Melinda," he began, his voice pleading.

"It's all right, Arthur," she told him gently. "I enjoyed the meal and the company, but it's getting late. I'll just clear these dishes and go home."

"No, leave them," he told her, standing. "I'll walk you home then come back and take care of them."

"You don't have to," she began.

"I want to. Come on." He wound her arm around his and escorted her from the hall. When they stepped out into the night, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly, realize that he felt better. "Thank you," he told her quietly.

"For what?"

"For listening. You were right. Talking to you about what happened tonight did help."

Dalton, Georgia (USA)...

The sign on the dingy shop window merely said Rupert and Sons, Antiquities. From the outside, the shop looked like any other roadside antique dealer in rural America. There were some rusting farm implements in the front yard and an old Studebaker that had seen better days sat around the side of the building, rusting in the humid Georgia sun. In fact, from the outside, there was very little to recommend the shop. It appeared that the owners had blurred the lines between antique and junk a long time ago.

The door chime dinged once and a small, almost gnome-like man sat up from his position behind the counter where he had been dozing. It was probably just another curious tourist hunting for a rare bargain. He did have those rare bargains, some of them right out in plain sight, but most people never recognized them for what they were.

A tall man approached the counter and the gnome eyed him warily. He was dressed in black from head to toe and he wore a cloak despite the heat. This man was no tourist.

"Mr. Rupert, I presume?"

"Aye, that's me."

"I am given to understand you are also a dealer of rare and hard to find items. Item's so rare, one would have to be a wizard to find them."

Rupert's eyebrows raised in surprise and he eyed the man more closely. He hadn't missed the emphasis the man had placed on the word wizard. "Aye, some have said that about my skills in finding things for them."

The tall man nodded, as if approving of the shopkeeper's caution. "Very well, then. You may call me Mr. Smith. I am a buyer's agent for a wealthy European client who wishes to add some unique items to his expanding collection. Do you think you might be able to help?"

Rupert fingered his wand, then nodded. "Why don't you step into the back with me and we can discuss your client's requirements?"

Rupert flicked his wand and the front door locked and the open sign flipped to around and read 'CLOSED'.

Leading the tall man into the back was like going from night to day. Where the front room was dingy and cluttered, the back room was spotless. Items were carefully placed on the shelves and priced, an elegant table and plush chairs sat in the center of the room. Rupert motioned for the man to take a seat.

"Can I offer you some tea? Or perhaps coffee?"

"Coffee, please. Black, no sugar."

Rupert poured two cups, handing one to Mr. Smith, then at in the chair across the table from him. Pulling out parchment and quill, he looked inquiringly at Mr. Smith.

Smith smiled for a moment, then pulled a small notebook from his pocket. "My client has several specific items he desires greatly, but on the top of his list are Strangler Collars and Cauldrons of Chaos," Smith said, eying Rupert carefully for his reaction.

Rupert frowned. "These are proscribed items, Mr. Smith."

"I am aware of that, Mr. Rupert, as is my client."

"So long as you do. I won't have it said that I'm selling proscribed items to unknowing clients! But as you are aware of that fact, I can assure you that I can get the items for you. In fact, I happen to be in possession of two Cauldrons right now. I got them a few years back from an estate sale in New Orleans."

Smith leaned forward anxiously. "You have two of them? Now?"

Rupert smiled. "I am an expert at what I do, Mr. Smith. I collect rarities. If I remember correctly. one Cauldron is in near perfect condition, whereas the other has clearly been used. I'd rate it's condition to be good." Rupert stopped smiling and turned very serious. "Mr. Smith, you do realize that these are not going to be cheap? Selling proscribed artifacts to anyone but a museum carries a frightful penalty."

Smith nodded in reply. The American Department of Magic took a very dim view on someone selling proscribed artifacts. It was one of the few civil crimes that resulted in a sentence of a Life Wipe. The Life Wipe spell sent its victim into a coma for an undetermined amount of time and, when said victim emerged from that coma, he or she suffered from irreversible amnesia. The Department of Magic routinely sent Life Wipe victims to Muggle hospitals and they vanished from Wizarding society forever.

"Mr. Rupert, my client is prepared to pay you handsomely for your efforts on his behalf. Not only will he pay you for any of the items you locate, but he's also offering to partially fund your search for what he wants. And he'll pay you a finders fee on top of that."

Rupert's eyes widened slightly. This guy was a live one, all right. It was time to talk about the important things. Rupert scribbled a price on a scrap of parchment, noting it was per Cauldron, and slid it across the table to Smith, who glance at it.

Smith nodded. The price was about twenty percent less than he was prepared to pay, but he understood Rupert was low balling the price to ensure he'd come back to him for more business.

"I think we can do business, Mr. Rupert. I should like to inspect the Cauldrons. Just a precaution, mind you. If they are acceptable, we can proceed to the next step," said Smith.

Rupert stood. "Of course. If you will follow me."

Smith rose and followed Rupert to a wall covered by a Persian tapestry. He tapped the tapestry once and it rolled up, revealing a door. Rupert opened it and entered, with Smith on his heels. The room was more cluttered than the previous, but the objects in it were clearly well taken care of.

"Tell me, Mr. Smith, how much do you know about the Cauldron of Chaos?" asked Rupert as he stopped in front of a pair of small crates.

Smith frowned for a moment. "Not as much as I probably should, but my client has informed me that each Cauldron has a unique mark on the bottom, a sort of manufacturers mark."

Rupert nodded. "Aye, that they do. But a true Cauldron of Chaos has a form of magic all its own. A dangerous magic. I suggest you either put on the gloves that are on the case behind you, or you levitate the Cauldrons. Touching one can drain you magically. That is why I keep them sealed in these boxes. They are dangerous objects."

Smith looked startled for a moment. This was information he hadn't been given! He reached around and put the heavy dragon hide gloves on while Rupert opened both crates. Then he stepped back.

Peering into the crates, he was surprised to see how small they were. These couldn't be more than a number four cauldron, capable of only a few doses at a time!

"Small, aren't they?"

"Yes. I understand they were made from meteoric iron. They had to be small, considering they probably didn't have a lot of the iron in the first place," Rupert replied.

The Cauldrons were a glossy black, but they seemed to suck in light, rather than reflect it. Smith reached in and pulled one of the Cauldrons from the case. It was very heavy, far heavier than it's size would have implied. Even through the heavy dragon hide gloves, he could feel the Cauldron pulling at his magic, and for that first time that day, he was truly frightened. Upending the Cauldron, he quickly checked the mark on the bottom to the list he had. Then he returned the Cauldron to the crate. He repeated the process with the second, noting this Cauldron had some minor usage damage to it. When he was done, he quickly walked away from the dreadful Cauldrons and sat heavily on another crate, shivering.

He looked up when Rupert handed him a small vial.

"Pepper up potion. I always need a dose after handling them," Rupert offered.

Smith downed the potion in a single gulp and steam blew from his ears for nearly a minute before he started looking better. He handed the empty vial back to Rupert with a grateful nod.

"Shall we retire back to my office to discuss the details?" Rupert asked.

Back at the table Rupert waited for Smith to begin.

"The Cauldrons are authentic. If you can provide me with account information, I can see that the transfer is made to your account within twenty four hours. In the meantime, I will provide you with shipping information. You cannot ship directly to my client, so these will go to a drop point in Paris, where they will be couriered, by hand, to him directly. I will also provide you with a list of other items, but my client wishes to get as many Cauldrons as possible."

Rupert nodded. "I can arrange that, Mr. Smith. I will ship as soon as Gringotts confirms the funds transfers."

After giving the shopkeeper the shipping information, Smith stood and shook the man's hand before showing himself out.

Rupert watched him leave and drummed his fingertips nervously on the table for a moment before scribbling out a note on some parchment. Rupert's fear of the Life Wipe wasn't exaggerated. Nearly twenty years ago he had been caught selling proscribed artifacts and he was given a choice, cooperate with the government or face trial and a probable Life Wipe. He had taken the cooperative road for himself and thus started living the double life of an informant. The government was very circumspect in their operations. Most of the time they monitored his customers and found other reasons to charge them with crimes, thus avoiding blowing his cover.

He knew this sale would interest his political masters, especially since the objects were so dangerous and being shipped overseas.

Haven School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (May 18th)...

"Are you sure this is the right thing to do?" a voice whispered from a nearby table.

"You know it is! Our parents are doing everything they can to help the Master. If they'd been able to get us out of Hogwarts, we be helping them. With Potter releasing the Fidelius charm at the end of the month, we have our chance. Not only can get they get Potter, they can get us out of this bloody place and back where we belong!" another voice hissed quietly, although not quietly enough.

"Yes, but how?"

"Until the Fidelius is dropped, any owls will go through the Irish Ministry first. There's no way they'd forward them on for us, and they'd wonder why we were writing our parents anyway, since we've both said we don't want any contact with them. But when the charm comes down, the Ministry will stop checking our mail, and we can owl them the exact location of the manor. They can get in and kill Potter and his bloody friends before anyone knows what's happened. We can leave with them. With Potter gone, there will be no one left with enough strength to oppose the Master."

Millicent Bulstrode stood behind a bookcase in the library, her eyes narrowed in concentration. When the overheard conversation moved on to more mundane matters, she took a bit of a risk and peeked out from behind the bookcase to note who the speakers were.

When Madam Pince announced that the library would be closing in ten minutes, Millicent took her books to the librarian's desk and checked them out. The two students she'd been eavesdropping on didn't notice the dark, thoughtful look she sent them.

Hurrying from the library, she weighed her options. In the end, she realized she only had one real choice. Changing directions abruptly, she shrunk her books, put them in her pocket, and headed for the Headmistress' office.

Reaching McGonagall's door, she raised her hand to knock, but hesitated. It was getting late. There was no reason this couldn't wait until morning. She still had homework to do, and she was sure the Headmistress had more pressing concerns...

Growling to herself, she straightened her shoulders. She was making excuses and she knew it. This was more important than homework, and the Headmistress would certainly want to know about it. With that thought firmly in mind, she knocked on the office door briskly.

"Come!" a voice called from within.

Opening the door, Millicent stepped into McGonagall's office and closed the door behind her. She spotted the Professor sitting behind a mammoth desk piled high with paperwork, and nearly cringed. She was interrupting, she should have waited...

"I was wondering how long you would stand outside my door before knocking, Miss Bulstrode," McGonagall commented just before looking up and pinning the younger woman with bright, hazel eyes.

"You knew I was there, Professor?" Millicent asked, surprised.

"Of course. Albus Dumbledore isn't the only one with a few tricks up his sleeve, my dear. Now, what is it that's brought you oh so hesitantly to my office?" The humor in her voice was obvious, but her eyes were stern and unyielding.

"I've overheard something you need to know about, Headmistress," Millicent said, rather formally. "I hope you will forgive me, but..." She trailed off as she reached for her wand and turned to the door. Casting both a silencing charm and a locking charm, she made sure to put her wand away before turning back to face the Professor.

McGonagall watched her with a calm expression, though she did nod. "Fine work, Miss Bulstrode. Why don't you sit down and tell me what's on your mind?"

Taking the offered seat, Millicent looked down at her feet and fidgeted for a moment. She started to pick a piece of lint from her robe, but stopped herself and clenched her fist. Looking up at the Professor, she took a deep breath to calm her nerves and told McGonagall what she'd overheard.

When Millicent was finished, Minerva sat back in her chair and gazed at the student thoughtfully. "You were right to bring this to me, Miss Bulstrode. What I don't understand is why you are so nervous."

Millicent shook her head, but kept her gaze on McGonagall. "You don't understand, Professor. I'm a Slytherin...or I was until we came here. Harry Potter knows that and, no matter what he may say, old prejudices die hard. I hope you believe what I've told you. But whether you do or you don't, it's Harry who must be convinced.

"My family has always been neutral in this war. That was known before my family was rescued. What Harry doesn't know is, from the moment he saved my parents, my neutrality ended. My parents can do what they like. As for me, I've thrown my lot in with Harry and will do everything I can to help him. The problem, however..."

"You don't think he'll believe you," Minerva said quietly.

"Yes," Millicent said simply, her shoulders sagging once more. "Professor, I killed Ron Weasley."

When McGonagall began to interrupt, Millicent kept speaking. "Oh, I know most think it was an accident, but it wasn't. I knew what would happen when I opened that wall. I knew the Acromantulas would kill him. I'd seen them close to the back of the greenhouse not five minutes before Weasley came in. I've tried to not feel guilty over what I did, but I can't. He would have killed Neville and I wasn't going to stand by and watch. But I couldn't get a clear enough shot at Ron to stop him! When he hit Neville with that curse, I knew I had to do something. So I lowered the wall and..."

"And Ron Weasley died because he was intent on killing a student. You couldn't have stopped him any other way," McGonagall finished softly when Millicent trailed off.

Seeing the shock Millicent's face and the tears beginning to gather in her eyes, Minerva stood and walked around her desk to kneel before her. Pulling a handkerchief from her pocket, she gave it to the young woman and smiled. "Yes, my dear, I do believe you. I always have. I knew what Ron Weasley had become, just as I knew Albus Dumbledore had no intentions of trying to turn the boy from his path.

"It is a heart wrenching situation we supposed adults find ourselves in, Millicent. When children must kill to save their own lives, or the lives of others, it is the adults who must bear the brunt of the guilt. That we have let it come to this..."

The Headmistress sighed and stood up once more. "Ron Weasley died due to his own actions, Miss Bulstrode," she said firmly. "Harry Potter is aware of the situation and he, too, believes you had no choice. He will not hold that against you. However, he does need to be made aware of what you have overheard. I know it is late and that you undoubtedly have homework to do, but I'd like for you to remain here while I notify him of the situation. He may wish to speak with you tonight."

"Of course, Professor."

Pulling her wand from her sleeve, Minerva transfigured another chair into a desk and smiled at her student. "As this may take some time, why don't you take your chair to the desk and study?"

Having gotten Millicent settled, Minerva scribbled a quick note to Harry and sent it off with one of the Haven School house elves. While she waited for a reply, she opened another file on her desk and continued with the routine business of running such a large school.

Elven Express (When you care enough to send the very best)...

Most were unable to hear the small popping sound in the dining room at Padfoot Manor, but both Harry and Hermione did. Turning in his chair, Harry raised an eyebrow at the small Haven School elf standing between him and Hermione.

"I is sorry to interrupt, Sir, but Mistress McGonagall wished for me to give this to you. I is to wait for a reply."

"Thank you...ah, what's your name?" Harry asked.

"I is Fittle, Sir," the little elf said, standing up straighter. No human but the school Mistress had bothered to ask his name before. Dobby, strange as he was, was right. Mr. Harry was different.

"Thank you, Fittle. I'll be quick," Harry told him as he opened the parchment and scanned it. "Hmm. Please tell the Headmistress we will be there shortly."

"Thank you, Sir," Fittle said and, with a quick bow and a small pop, he disappeared.

"What is it?" Hermione asked quietly.

Harry gave her the parchment and scanned the table quickly. "Draco?" he called, seeing the blond at the far end of the dining room. "Would you come here for a moment? I've just been made aware of something you might find interesting."

With a puzzled look, Draco shrugged, pushed away from the table and stood. He joined Harry and Hermione a moment later. "Is something wrong?" he asked.

"I don't know," Harry replied as Hermione passed the parchment to Draco. "But I've sent Professor McGonagall a message saying I'd be there as quickly as I could. I'd like for you to join me."

"Do you want me to come?" Hermione asked, already putting her napkin on the table.

Harry thought for a moment, then shrugged. "No. There's no sense is both of us missing dinner. I'll fill you in when I get back." He stood up, kissed her on the top of the head when he saw her disappointed look, then nodded to Draco. "Let's go."

Exiting the manor a few minutes later, both young men set a brisk pace for the school.

"Any idea what's happening?" Draco asked.

"All I know is what McGonagall wrote in her note. Millicent's overheard something she thinks is important, and the Headmistress agrees. I don't know Millicent well and for the first five years, the only interactions we had were...well, they weren't very pleasant. But I do know she saved Neville's life...and that I owe her a favor," Harry concluded, his eyes shining with mischief.

"A favor? Why?"

"That's something between Millicent and I," Harry said with a small smile.

"I hate it when people do that, Potter," Draco grouched.

"I know," the green eyed man said smugly, then stopped suddenly, gazing off towards one of the experimental greenhouses. "The lights are on. Neville must be working late. I wondered why he wasn't at dinner. Come on," he added as he changed directions. "Let's take him with us. He and Millicent have become friends, and we may need him."

"For what?" Draco asked, puzzled.

"I've no idea, but I'm learning to cover all my bases."

Shaking his head at his friends odd behavior, Draco followed.

Opening the door to the greenhouse, Harry stepped inside and looked around. "Nev, you around?" he called.

"Back here, Harry. Give me a minute," Neville called out. "If I don't finish this at the right time, I'll lose it all."

Following Neville's voice, Harry and Draco moved through the greenhouse cautiously, careful not to touch or get too close to any of the plants. Rounding the corner of a long counter top loaded with Pygmy Borneo Strangler, whose tentacles reached for them hungrily, they spotted Neville. Harry moved towards him, while Draco watched the struggling tree's tiny arm-like appendages writhe in anger as it was unable to snag its pray.

"Why on earth would anyone want something as grotesque as this, Neville?" Draco asked, his voice full of loathing.

"What?" Neville asked, looking up from the flower in front of him and spotting the blond. "Oh, the Strangler. Unlike most trees, its arms are loaded with blood, not sap. We break the arms off the trunk and drain them for blood replenishing potions."

Draco blanched and backed away from the still writhing tree. "I could have lived my whole life without knowing that."

"That will teach you to stop asking foolish questions," Harry replied, grinning.

"No question is ever foolish," Draco said with a sniff and he joined the other two.

"If you're going to stay, then kindly shut up," Neville told them bluntly as he bent back over the flower. "I have to get this planted quickly or I'll lose it.

A few minutes of patient care saw the plant settled into a new pot of warm soil. An unmistakable sigh was heard...coming from the plant. Both Harry and Draco backed up several steps, watching it carefully, and Neville chuckled.

"It's an African Evening Primrose. It can only be transplanted and harvested in early evening. If I'd been unable to finish in time, the plant would have died."

"Yes, but the thing sighed, Neville," Draco said, his eyes wide.

"This plants normal life expectancy is only three months, Draco. Professor Sprout and I have managed to keep it alive for two years. It's relieved, that's all."

"But," Draco began.

"The answers will only disturb you, Draco," Harry told him. "Why dig the hole any deeper?"

Draco closed his mouth and glared at him, but Harry only chuckled.

"So what brings you to the greenhouse?" Neville asked, wiping his hands on a towel and turning towards both men.

Harry passed him the parchment from McGonagall and waited until Neville looked up at him, his expression confused.

"You and Draco know Millicent better than I do, so I thought I'd bring you both along," he said simply.

"Well, I'm done here and I'm sure I've missed dinner. We can go whenever you're ready."

"I'm certainly not going to stay in this freak show any longer than I have to," Draco said as he turned around and headed for the exit. "This place gives me the creeps."

"You were never interested in Herbology," Neville commented as he turned off the lights in the greenhouse and closed the door.

"Most normal people aren't, Neville," Draco said loftily.

"Oh really? Let me tell you something, Draco..."

Harry walked towards the school, enjoying the light bantering going on between the others, and wondered just what Millicent had overheard to cause the Headmistress to summon him.

A New Ally...

Seated in Professor McGonagall's office, Harry looked around, trying to beat back the feeling of being summoned for punishment or a lecture. One couldn't go through over five years of classes with the formidable transfiguration Professor without some things rubbing off.

After casting silencing, locking and anti-eavesdropping charms, Minerva returned to her desk. "Gentlemen," she began, "I'm glad you could come on such short notice. Miss Bulstrode has brought me some interesting information that I though you should be made aware of. I realize it's late, but I felt this couldn't wait. Miss Bulstrode? Why don't you begin by informing them of what you overheard?"

Sitting back in her chair, she then eyed the faces of the young men before her as Millicent told her story. Draco was scowling, Neville's eyes were scrunched up in concentration, but Harry's face was expressionless. Minerva began to frown in concern, but Harry turned to face her and her eyes widened instead. Expressionless his face may be, but his eyes blazed.

"Harry," Millicent said as she wound up her tale, "I know you have no reason to trust me. We've never been friends, and I've done some things I regret, but you have to believe me. I'll take Veritaserum, submit to Legilimency, whatever is necessary to gain your trust."

"Why?" Harry asked quietly.

When she simply gaped at him, he waved a hand irritably. "I don't mean why would you be willing to submit to such things. I mean why are you willing to help me? Your family is neutral. If anyone finds out you're doing this, that will end," he informed her.

"It already has, at least for me. When you rescued my family, my days of fence sitting were over. I knew it then, but wasn't sure what I could do to help. When I overhead the students talking, I had no choice. You had to be made aware of it," she told him.

Harry nodded, but said nothing more.

"Who were the students?" Draco asked, his eyes intent.

"Jack Palmer and Mindy Joyner," Millicent replied.

"Hufflepuffs!" Draco exclaimed loudly as he leaned back in his chair. "Fifth years who've never stepped a foot out of line! Lucius never mentioned either family serving old snake-face. Are you sure about this, Millicent?"

"Positive," she said firmly, her gaze steady.

"I thought perhaps a Slytherin. Yes, fine, ex-Slytherin then," he said in annoyance when Neville began to correct him.

Draco bit his lower lip in thought, then scowled when he realized he'd picked up Granger's annoying habit.

"It fits," Neville said quietly, his eyes unfocused as he stared over Millicent's head.

"Fits?" McGonagall asked.

"Hmm? Oh, yes." Neville turned and met her eyes. "Most of the students in Hogwarts who had Death Eater parents were pretty obvious about it. Sorry Draco," he said with a small, apologetic smile, "but you know it's true. Most of you made no secret of the fact that your parents thought Dumbledore was a doddering old fool and that they wanted Harry out of the way. There was only one reason for that. It's not like he was a brilliant student who was dragging down your scores, like Hermione. Oh, sorry Harry. Didn't mean anything by that." Neville blushed profusely.

"Even though he's just horribly insulted us both, he's right, Draco," Harry said, his lips twitching.

Draco's eyes narrowed. "But why wouldn't Lucius have mentioned their families? He was forever going on about keeping the dark families close to each other, though mostly to keep on eye on them. Why do you think I hung around with lumps like Crabbe, Goyle and Parkinson?"

"You're assuming Lucius knew about them," Harry said. "Voldemort doesn't tell his minions everything, Draco. No matter how high your father may be in old lizard lips' council, I'm sure he wasn't told everything. And if the other students didn't know about Joyner and Palmer, there was nothing to alert the Hogwarts staff of the need to keep an eye on them, was there?"

"Devious bastard," Draco muttered, then blushed when McGonagall scowled at him fiercely. "Sorry Professor."

"So you believe me?" Millicent asked.

Harry turned to her and she flinched as she met his gaze. His eyes blazed and bored into hers for a moment before they softened. "I do," he told her and she sagged a bit in relief.

"The question," he continued, "is what to do about it?"

"Don't drop the charm," she said quickly.

"No, it has to come down, and I've already taken steps to protect the manor. I meant what should be done about the students."

"They'll have to be watched," Draco said.

"Wouldn't it be better just to send them back? It's obvious they haven't given up allegiance to their families as they said, so why not kick them out of Haven?" Neville asked.

Minerva made a tsking sound as Draco shook his head. "No, if we send them out, we give up the chance to gain more information," the blond told him.

"Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer," Harry quoted quietly and Draco nodded.

"Draco, you're not going to be able to spy on them. You're not attending school anymore and it would look odd if you hung around the grounds," Neville said.

"Not me, no. But maybe Luna, or Ginny... no, they're leaving after their OWLS." Draco trailed off, thinking quickly.

"You're all missing a valuable asset sitting right in this room," Minerva told them. "Miss Bulstrode attends this school, is known to be neutral to those in the...darker families, and has already proved she can be useful in this."

Millicent stared at her feet while the three young men looked at the Headmistress.

Minerva shook her head in exasperation. "That the three of you attended my class for almost six years and never learned to pay attention to details causes me no end of shame," she told them in her sternest professor's voice.

"Sorry, Ma'am," Harry, Draco and Neville all replied at once, then all three blinked in astonishment as they realized what they were doing.

"How very Slytherin of you, Professor," Draco said, grinning impishly. "For a moment there, I thought I was back in school."

"Me, too," Neville said, shaking his head. "I wonder how long that habit's going to be around."

"Bill Weasley's still doing it, Nev," Harry told him, though his eyes were on the Headmistress. "I don't think it ever goes away."

"Nor should it, young man," Minerva said firmly, though her lips were twitching. "However, the point of this is..."

"That Millicent, if she's willing, could keep an eye on the students," Draco interrupted.

When those in the room turned to Millicent and waited, she looked up and met Harry's eyes. "If you'll trust me, I'd like to do it."

He smiled at her. "It looks like I own you two favors now."

Ballincollig, County Cork, Ireland (May 22nd)…

"Are you sure you're up to this, Charles?" asked Dumbledore in a kindly tone.

"Yes, Professor. You've helped to refresh me on my Occlumency, and you've warded me against mind control spells. I think it's time we find out what it going on. This is my family we're talking about here."

"Very well, Charles, but I want you to be very careful. We do not know what level of control is being imposed on your family or anyone else," Dumbledore said.

"Yes, yes. I understand, Professor, but this is really our only option. We didn't learn anything about what Harry was doing at Castletown other than the fact that he was there. And we've not been able to catch up to him any time he's visited Stonewall Lane. We're running blind here, Sir, and until I get inside, that's not going to change," Charlie said hotly.

Dumbledore sighed heavily and nodded at the young redhead. "All right, Charles. You know who to send your reports to and you have an emergency portkey that will bring you to one of the Order's safe houses here in Ireland, should anything untoward happen. But please be careful. You will be our only operative inside of Haven."

"I'll be careful," Charlie said as he finished packing his rucksack.

Standing, he shook Dumbledore's hand before turning and leaving the small apartment. Once on the street, he quickly walked into an ally and apparated away.

Charlie reappeared in an ally behind the muggle pub where he was supposedly going to meet his family. Walking around to the front of the building, he was surprised to find they had picked a popular tourist pub in which to meet. The Prancing Pony was an old business, having been passed from father to son for nearly ten generations. In that time, it had gained in popularity with locals and tourists and saw a steady stream of customers.

Charlie opened the door and was nearly bowled over by the noise of the fiddles playing and he shook his head in amazement that anyone would want to meet in such a noisy place. He stepped into the pub and looked around for the tell-tale red hair, only to be surprised to find that a good third of the customers sported red hair like his own. He grinned and waved when he spotted his father sitting at a table and never noticed the two Aurors who were watching his every move.

"Charlie!" exclaimed Arthur, who then bounced from his chair and grabbed his second oldest son in a tight hug.

Charlie hugged his father, then turned to see a small red blur streak into his arms. Charlie wrapped his arms around his sister and fought to control his own emotions as he held her again. She had grown quite a lot since he had last seen her.

Arthur led him over to a table where he had a couple pints ready for them. He was surprised to see Ginny had her own pint, although it didn't look like she was drinking much from it.

"I know you expected me earlier, but I had to see about Mum," Charlie said, just loud enough to be heard over the din in the pub.

Ginny's eyes widened as she realized he'd risked a trip to England.

Arthur nodded. "I suspected something along those lines. Did you find her?"

Charlie frowned. "No, I didn't find any sign of her. I checked several places. Great Aunt Milly is still in her place at Seaton, but most every other place I checked was deserted."

"Milly's still alive in her place?" Arthur exclaimed. "Well, we'll have to put her on the list then."

"Charlie, where have you been all this time?" asked Ginny.

"Gin, he just said he was looking for your Mum," Arthur reminded her gently.

Ginny shot her father a reproachful glance, but subsided. Something didn't quite ring true to her about her brother's story but she wasn't sure what it was. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at him closely, and the feeling of wrongness grew.

"Charlie, you've heard about Haven, haven't you?" asked Arthur.

"Yes Dad, I read about it in the Dublin Daily," Charlie replied.

"Excellent. Then we'll enjoy this fine lunch and, when we're done, we'll take you to our home there. I think you'll like what we've done with the place. It's not the Burrow, you understand, but it's rather homey." Arthur smiled at his son, his eyes bright with feeling.

Charlie nodded and smiled back. Then he glanced at Ginny and noted her expression. For the first time in his life, he had to admit there was something intimidating about his sister's gaze, and that bothered him.

Padfoot Manor...

Harry sighed in relief as he slipped into the tub. He had spent the last four hours working with Eocho, who had proven to everyone that he was more than just ghost when he took over several ground floor rooms of the manor, converting them into training areas. Harry remembered learning about it the hard way.

Eocho had come to Harry just after lunch and beckoned him to join him in his rooms. He also summoned Hermione. The three had spoken for a while before he sent Hermione into another room to work on translating several texts into something everyone could understand. Harry, he sent to the other side of the room and started hurling curses at him.

Harry's leg turned lame less than thirty minutes into the exercise, and Eocho had stopped the match. He floated over to where Harry stood, leaning against the wall, massaging his leg.

"Let me examine thy leg, Maglios."

Harry glanced up at him, then nodded and rolled up his pants leg, revealing his damaged calf muscles.

"Alas, that thy healers lack the ability to heal wounds such as this is unfortunate. This limits thy mobility and will make fighting difficult. I know a few spells that thou canst use to extend thy mobility, but they cannot be used with impunity, Maglios. I will teach thee those spells but thou shouldst only use them when thy need is great. Now, tell me, why didst thou waste time in our battle? Why art thou hesitant in thy choice of spells?"

Harry looked at Eocho and grinned sheepishly. "I didn't want to hurt you, revered Teacher."

Eocho crossed his arms and looked at Harry incredulously. "Maglios," he said in a gentle tone, "I am dead these past fifteen hundred years. How canst thou possibly hurt me more?"

Harry blinked in surprise. That was a thought that hadn't occurred to him!

A pair of chairs appeared and Eocho waved him towards one. "Sit, Maglios, and we shall talk of war. Thy leg will not permit further fighting today."

Eocho took the other chair and, as he did, the lights in the room dimmed. "War, Maglios, it is the ultimate form of justice, where one must assume the role of both judge and executioner. Our ultimate mission is to be the final arbiter in war. But our primary goal has ever been to try to make sure that war does not happen. Sometimes we may talk a foe out of war. Other times, a selective assassination can prevent a war or sometimes we could even pay to avoid a war.

"But when that war comes, we show no mercy. It is our way. If one doth leave a foe wounded on the field of battle, he might heal and come again at thee, when thou least expect it.

Thy selection of spells were all designed to confuse and disable thy opponent, when thou shouldst have been trying to kill from the outset. Tell me, Maglios, will thy enemy try to stun thy mate, or will they try to kill her outright?"

Harry frowned. "They will try to kill her."

Suddenly, in the dim light, Hermione appeared with a squawk. Across the room, two black robed Death Eaters appeared and snarled, seeing Hermione. Both raised their wands and cast killing curses at her. Harry surged to his feet, transfiguring a brick wall in front of the surprised Hermione, then he cast a heavy blasting hex at the two Death Eaters.

The killing curse crashed into Harry's wall, shattering it. His hex hit one of the black robed men, who exploded with such force he knocked out his fellow Death Eater. Seeing that both men were down, Harry turned and hobbled over to Hermione as fast as his leg would allow him.

He grabbed her in his arms and glared at Eocho. Across the room, the two Death Eaters faded from sight.

"Most excellent, Maglios. This is the kind of combat thou doth face, and the kind of combat thou must bring to thy foes. This is no child's game. The winner of this war is the one left alive. This is the kind of combat which thou must teach to thy brothers and sisters."

"I understand, revered teacher, but did you have to bring Hermione into this?" Harry said in an angry tone.

"It was the only way to make thee understand, Maglios. Thou doth hold little value for thy own life, but thou doth hold hers as the most important in the world."

Hermione swiveled in his grasp and glared at him and Harry winced inwardly. Eocho turned to look at Hermione and he smiled knowingly. "Thank you, my daughter. Thy help is always appreciated."

Hermione broke free from Harry's embrace. She looked at Eocho for a moment, then nodded, understanding the message he was trying to tell Harry. She turned to Harry then and clearly gave him a look.

Harry sighed and nodded. "Yes, Hermione, we'll talk about it later."

The pair watched Hermione leave the room before resuming the lesson.

And now, Harry lay in the bath, knowing full well that an unhappy Hermione waited for him in their bedroom. Sighing, he sunk lower in the tub and began to knead the muscles in his leg. The heat of the tub sunk to the bone, making him drowsy and the room began to fill with a heavy mist coming off the tub. He jumped when Hermione called his name softly.

"Harry?"

He sighed once again and looked down at his hands in the water. "Look, Hermione, I'm sorry about what happened this afternoon. I didn't know Eocho was going to toss you into the middle of a fight like that."

She smiled softly at him and began to undress. "I spoke to him about it. I wasn't in any danger. It was all an illusion, even the killing curses cast by those Death Eaters. Eocho just wanted to see if you'd release your inhibitions about killing."

"I don't like killing. Sooner or later there has to come a point where I'd be no better that Voldemort," he said quietly.

"No one in their right mind likes killing, Harry. Shortly after we arrived here in Haven, I asked myself if I could kill and I couldn't come up with an answer. I know you've killed, just as I know it hurts you each time you have to do it. It hurt you to kill at St. Mungos, it hurt you when you killed to save my parents, you even hurt after the incident at the Ministry. You'll do what you have to, to survive and to give others the chance to survive. I'd like to think I'd do the same, but until I've been put in that situation, I can't really say.

"Look, it makes me feel very good to know you think I'm the most important person in your world, but you have to realize that I feel the same for you. You have to place a higher value on your life. If you care about me one iota, you have to work on changing that."

Harry watched her as she undressed and climbed into the tub. "I'll try."

"No, Harry, you won't try. You'll do it because losing you would devastate me. If you care for my happiness at all, you'll start putting a higher value on your own."

He pulled her into an embrace. After all a wet, naked Hermione was something that should never be passed up. "I promise to try. That's all I can do."

She relaxed in his grip. If Harry promised to do something, he'd die trying to accomplish it.

"So, what else did you and Eocho talk about?" she asked, curious now.

"He showed me a few spells that I can used on my leg to give me full mobility for few hours, then cautioned me to use them only when absolutely necessary. He said that once the spell wore off, the effects would be 'unpleasant'. Then he talked a bit about the history of the Brotherhood and how he intended to transfer his memories and fighting techniques to me, directly."

Hermione turned her head to look at him and he shrugged. "I don't understand it entirely myself, Hermione, but he is training me in a manner similar to Occlumency. He said that once I master the ability to commune, he would be able to transfer memories directly."

Hermione broke free from his grasp and moved a little away from him. "He's teaching you to commune?" she asked incredulously.

"That's what he said."

"Did he say anything about teaching the rest of us to commune?"

"He said that he was going to teach one of each couple to commune, and they would teach their partner."

Hermione expression broke into a huge grin. "Harry, I worked on two texts he supplied today. One dealt entirely with communing. If we can do it, we'll be able to share memories, share feelings, and share power. Communing is similar to that power sharing ritual we performed, but more personal. With it, you can tell if someone is telling the truth, see their memories. It's more powerful and more personal than Legilimency. It's an incredible skill to learn!"

He smiled at her exuberance. "Well, I'm supposed to teach you the technique. Eocho also wants me to start teaching everyone to fight, once the memory transfer is completed," he said, then he paused and his expression grew thoughtful. "Wait a moment. Hermione, this communing thing. It doesn't set up permanent links, does it?"

"Oh, no. It's something we have to want to do. From what I translated today, it sounded like the Brotherhood often used communing to interrogate prisoners, or to communicate with animals directly. I'd have to say it is probably close to something Luna does, or would do once she learns to control her skills better."

He nodded thoughtfully, then reached for a bar of soap. She could see he was trying to piece together what she had told him. Lathering up his hands, he started to soap up her back, then paused again.

"So I'd be able to talk to an animal? Like Hedwig?"

"I'm not sure if talking is the right word for it," she said, then sighed as he proceeded to massage her back. "I think we'll have to wait and see exactly what Eocho can show us."

Smiling to himself he rinsed off her back. "Turn around. It's time for me to deal with the front."

She turned in the tub and smiled impishly at him. "You do know I'm perfectly capable of doing this myself, don't you?" she asked with a grin.

He shrugged. "Yes, but do you want to do it yourself?" he asked running his slick, soapy hands over her breasts.

"No, not really," she whispered, arching her back.

The Weasley House, Haven...

Arthur settled into bed for an uneasy sleep. He was pleased with the way today had gone. Bill and the twins hadn't been available to go with him and Ginny to the Prancing Pony to pick up Charlie, and there had been an uneasy tension between Ginny and Charlie that he had trouble understanding.

When they had arrived back in Haven, Arthur and Ginny had shown Charlie around the town. Charlie seemed suitably impressed, especially when he saw the Goblins erecting a Gringotts branch office next to the town hall. The town had been undergoing many changes as people prepared for the removal of the Fidelius charm at the end of the month.

After seeing the town, Arthur was surprised when he moved to take Charlie up to the manor house and Ginny told him that he couldn't. Charlie wasn't on the list of people allowed to visit the house and until that changed, he couldn't go there. Arthur was unused to his daughter asserting herself, but she had become more decisive since the ritual, nearly two weeks ago. Charlie was surprised to see his sister telling their father that he couldn't do something, and even more surprised to see his father back down. According to his father, he was an assistant deputy for the Ministry in Exile.

Arthur relaxed and drifted for a moment. His family was just one of the problems he had to deal with it. Tomorrow he'd be meeting with O'Dalley to finalize the plans for the constabulary and the dropping of the charm. He also had to arrange for Harry to attend a town meeting. There were some nasty rumors floating about in regard to dropping the charm and only Harry could dispel them.

And finally, there was Melinda. Melinda McKinney was a widow, a competent healer, and a good deal younger than he was. And despite all that, she made him feel like he was back at Hogwarts again. He wasn't sure exactly what he was feeling towards the woman, or she towards him, but he hoped they'd be able to find out.

Arthur drifted off to sleep knowing that despite the problems, things were moving forward. Perhaps not as smoothly as he'd like, but they were moving.

From the bedroom two doors down, Charlie had just finished his nightly journal entry. It was a habit his mum had introduced him to more than twenty years earlier. It was something that his family was used to seeing him do. He had kept a daily journal all through his Hogwarts years, and when Ginny came home from her terrible first year at Hogwarts, he had been there to help her overcome her fear of using a journal.

He paused as he completed his description of Haven, it's layout and the people, then went into his impressions of what he had seen, what people had told him. He paused when he got to his impressions of Ginny. She represented the only truly unusual thing he had experienced since arriving in Haven. For one thing, she wore a cloak with an embroidered emblem of a Celtic cross on the breast. That, in itself, wasn't unusual, but her bearing and manner were not in line with the little girl who had cried in her sleep that horrible summer following her first year. She had matured far beyond her age and there existed some tension between them that he couldn't define. She looked at him as if she were measuring him, weighing his words and looking for truths beyond what he was telling her.

As far as Charlie was concerned, as he explained in his journal, this was clearly evidence that she was being manipulated or controlled. It confirmed his fears.

In a book many miles away in Ballincollig, Charlie's words appeared as if he were there writing them himself.

Albus Dumbledore sat reading this first entry and smiled to himself. The information wasn't especially useful, but it was a start.

Haven School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Girls Fifth year dorm...

Ginny looked up from the notebooks that were scattered all over her bed. OWLS and NEWTS would start tomorrow. Luna bounced through the curtains around the bed, landing in the midst of the Ginny-created mess, causing several notebooks to fall to the floor. Ginny sighed and summoned the books back to the bed.

"Ginny, if you don't know the material by now, no amount of study is going to help with the exams tomorrow," Luna said, her voice airy.

"I know, I know. It's just that I took some time off today to go with Dad to get Charlie and I wanted to get some last minute transfiguration study in," she replied, then sighed. "I suppose you're right. No amount of studying is going to help at this point. I mean, the exams are tomorrow."

"So, is Charlie alright? Why did he take so long to arrive here?" Luna asked.

Ginny blinked in surprise. She was still getting used to this Luna. Between the effects of her mixing her soul with Draco and what the Brotherhood was doing to her, Luna was turning out to be quite capable of focusing on people and events. She could hold a conversation without mentioning three toed Snarfsters or the fabled Sable Bloomslang of Central Asia.

She frowned. "Physically he's fine, Luna..."

When the blond looked at her, Ginny found herself shuddered back from the feelings of intense curiosity and concern for her that Luna was broadcasting.

"But?" prompted Luna.

"I don't know. That's the problem, Luna! His story made sense and he seemed like the Charlie I know and love, but at the same time, I felt uneasy. It's as if something isn't right and I can't put my finger on what it is. Dad wanted to take him to the manor and to the Operations Center, but I told him he couldn't because Charlie wasn't on the list. He isn't on the list, but something tells me that maybe he shouldn't be..." Ginny said pensively, then she wrapped her arms around herself and shivered slightly.

Luna eyed the girl for a moment longer. Her talents were coming into focus and, like Harry, she could see magic auras when she wanted to. Her abilities with auras was less capable than Harry's, and she lacked the experience he had with it. What she could see was that Ginny was developing a talent, though she didn't what it was. That didn't surprise her. Everyone in the Brotherhood was undergoing a similar process. The interesting thing was they all seemed to be either refining existing talents or developing wholly new ones. Ginny's talent was just beginning to manifest itself and Luna wondered if this distrust she had for her brother was a result of it.

"Maybe I'm just stressed from all these rituals and the upcoming OWLS," offered Ginny.

"Maybe," offered Luna. "But you'll have a chance to reacquaint yourself with Charlie when the OWLS are over. In the meantime, you should get some sleep. I am turning in early also."

Ginny nodded to Luna as the blond slipped from the bed.

Padding to her own bed, Luna scribbled a quick note and added it to the one from Millicent. A few minutes later, Tobby appeared.

"Hello, Tobby. How are you tonight?" Luna said , smiling at the elf.

Tobby beamed up at her. "We is fine, Mistress. Master Draco sends his love and a note for you to read."

The little elf handed her a small leather case. Luna opened it, removing the parchment, then inserted her note to Draco about Ginny and Charlie, along with the note from Millicent. It amused her no end that her fiancÃ©e used her as a letter drop to get his 'spy stuff' from the school. But maybe he'd find her note about Ginny and Charlie of interest. If not, there was the other note that she thought he'd like. It described, in great detail, something she'd like to do to him while he was tied to the bed posts. And if that didn't make him happy, maybe Millicent's note would.

"Here you are, Tobby," she said, handing the small case back to the elf.

"Thank you, Mistress. Sleep well!" the little elf squeaked before vanishing.

Crawling into bed, Luna pulled the blankets up around her shoulders and wished for morning to arrive. Once her OWLS were done, the pain of being separated from Draco every night would end, and she very much looked forward to it.

Author's Notes:

This is the part you dread. It means you're down at the bottom of the file, scrapping the bottom of the dung heap. The end, the last bits and bytes, well you get the picture. This is the section where we trot out our responses to some of the reviews and morons like that Ambiance15 who's petty actions got us kicked off of fanfiction.net.

Is Molly dead? We can't tell you without giving away spoilers. You will just have to hold your water and wait and see.

Magic, like medicine, can't heal everything. Don't look to the brotherhood to magically cure every ailment people might suffer from.

Why is Charlie looking so hard for Molly? Wouldn't you look for your mother if she vanished without a trace?

The power benefits from the Brotherhood will vary considerably. Harry will see refinements in his abilities, but no new abilities. Everyone will learn new magics and see benefits of some sort.

Draco isn't Q, Draco is M. The twins make up Q branch, as we see here in this chapter.

The Fidelius charm will be lifted at the end of May in our time line. That it will take Haven that long to train up its constabulary is coincidence. The preparations for lifting the charm are what drives when it gets lifted.

People keep asking that we kill off Dumbledore already. That is not going to happen anytime soon. Dumbledore provides an alternate plot line and villain besides Voldemort, so don't look for him to die anytime soon.

Yes, Dan is an enchanter. In our vision of the Potterverse there are wizards and then there are wizards with talents. Enchanting isn't a very rare talent, but it is a highly respected one. Every wizard can place a temporary spell on an object, but you need someone who can enchant to make it permanent.

No, Harry will not be driving a souped BMW from Q branch. Although I won't discount the possibilities of souped up brooms. Snicker.

And now for a new feature of our Author's Notes:

Welcome to "This would be a really nice story that we'd like to recommend but the author has fallen into a coma and hasn't updated in at least sixty days" Hall. Or simply called the UPDATELESS LIST!!

The Father.

http://www.fanfiction.net/s/1749622/1/

Here is a wonderful story, Harry/Hermione pairing. Well written, believable plot line. Even manages to redeem both Snape and Draco. Unfortunately it hasn't seen an update since September of 2005.

The Father earns the first entry in our on UPDATELESS LIST!

Back to:: Harry Potter » Sunrise Over Britain

Sunrise Over Britain
Chapter 5 - Relationship building

By Bobmin

Sunrise Over Britain Chapter 5 - Relationship building

By Bobmin

Sunrise Over Britain
Chapter 5 - Relationship building