Sunrise Over Britain :: Chapter 8 - Score one for the good guys

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Standard Disclaimer:

"Are you sure this is how you want to do this?" Alyx asked while she eyed her husband curiously.

"Trust me," proclaimed Bob. "It's the latest rage to do disclaimers while wearing nothing but a thong."

Alyx thought about it for a moment, then nodded. "Alright, but you do realize that all the Alan Rickman fan gurls out there are going to go ape when they see Snape in a thong."

Bob stopped and stared at her in confusion. "I meant for you to wear the thong, not him," he muttered darkly.

The curtain opened and standing in the middle of the stage was an mortally embarrassed Severus Snape wearing nothing more than a thong. It was a loverly shade of green with a hint of racing stripes.

The audience gasped, and the sound of projectile vomiting could be heard from where Harry and his friends sat.

Hermione stood, her arms outstretched. "I'm blind!" she screamed.

Ginny fainted and Luna turned to Draco with a look of shock on her face. "He's paler than you are!" she murmured. Draco, who was busy hurling over two rows of seats was too busy to answer her.

"The authors of this confusing tale have informed me that they have no wish to be confused with JK Rowling. They do not own the rights to the Potter Universe, or all rights therein. And furthermore I feel I must protest being forced to wear this obscene garment." Snape said, trying to summon up his dignity.

Bob leaned over and pushed Alyx's mouth closed, then wiped her chin free of drool. "He's not Alan Rickman," Bob said conversationally. "Besides, thats an exploding thong."

Alyx turned to glare at Bob. "I hate you, you do know that don't you?"

"Yes dear," Bob replied smugly.

The curtain closed, then it billowed out from the explosion.

Alyx eyed the stage carefully. "Oh dear, we'll have to replace those curtains now."

Bob nodded and contemplated his next disclaimer. Torturing Snape was to much fun!

Sunrise Over Britain
Chapter 8

Padfoot Manor...

Eocho drifted through the manor as he did every evening. He was very circumspect in avoiding the bedrooms, but it wasn't uncommon for him to come through a wall into one of the many sitting rooms or studies and join in a conversation with the people he found there.

It was late and he had just finished an extended session with Hermione and Luna concerning rune stones and what they could do. Hermione had explained to Eocho what Harry thought in regard to Dementors and her own research into them. He agreed it did sound like an ancient curse and the magic certainly had the capability of forcing such a transformation. For the past few days he had helped Hermione with her research in trying to understand the curse in the hopes of finding a way to lift it.

He paused before drifting through another wall and shook his head. If he had been corporeal, he was certain he would now be suffering a headache. Luna had joined Hermione in her research but, where Hermione was looking for a counter curse, Luna was convinced an answer already existed and she just had to find it.

"It all comes down to balance, revered Teacher. Nature will not allow one form of creature without an countervailing form to balance it," Luna said dreamily.

"But, Luna, there are plenty of creatures we are aware of that do not have counterparts. Vampires, for instance or werewolves," protested Hermione.

"Hermione, you know werewolves are a result of a disease and not a true species. The same can be said for Vampires. Look at how they spread their species, by infecting others. No, if you want to examine balance, you need to see the true species. Manticores and Nundus are balanced by dragons. The Griffin and the Sphinx, Acromantulas and Basilisks, Nifflers and Side Whomping Uninooks, the Great Land Whale and Purple Plummaged Acroroc" Luna said seriously.

Eocho paused and turned to stare at Luna, Hermione blinked in surprise. Luna didn't miss a beat, she simply stood and faced the two.

"No, we must consider how to find a way to restore the balance." Luna said as she paced back and forth.

"My child," Eocho said gently,"the Dementors are the result of a curse and not created by nature. Does nature even consider them a species of hers?"

Luna waved a hand, dismissing his concern. "Nature had to approve the change in the first place or the curse would have turned the caster into a five legged Grabow. Mind you, no one has ever seen a five legged Grabow before. Most people see the more common seven legged Grabow, but only just before it hurls itself from the tree to rip out their throat. No, nature had to agree to such a change and they are a species at this point. Their population grows, although no one has ever studied their reproductive cycle. Hmmm. I wonder if I can obtain a Mastery in magical creatures if I were to study it?"

Hermione shot Eocho a pained look, and his brow wrinkled in confusion.

"Well then, Luna, what do you suggest we do?" asked Hermione, who was still trying to figure out where the conversation was going.

"About studying their reproductive cycle? Oh, I suppose it would be fascinating, Hermione, but since your dead set on killing them all off, don't you think that would be a waste of time?" the blond asked, staring over Hermione's right shoulder at a very interesting spot on the wall. She was certain the spot had moved, as it used to be over Hermione's left shoulder.

Hermione resisted the urge to grab her hair and pull it out by the fistful. "No, about the Dementors and your idea about balance," she said through gritted teeth. Then she turned to glare at Eocho... or tried to. Their revered teacher currently had his head stuck through the wall and the noise coming from the next room sounded suspiciously like laughter.

Luna looked startled, then suddenly focused on Hermione. Her eyes narrowed as she stared at the older witch for a moment before her eyes misted with unshed tears.

Hermione reeled under the onslaught of Luna's emotions, mostly joy and happiness. She started to push herself away from Luna, but the blond's focus changed, releasing her from the emotional storm.

Eocho pulled his head from the wall and turned to watch his students.

"We've truly come a long way if you're willing to ask my advice on something, Hermione," Luna said softly. "I never thought I'd see the day when you'd ask me for advice."

Hermione smiled tremulously at Luna. "I know we've had our differences, Luna. I don't always understand you and I'm not sure I ever will. But those of us who know you also know how intelligent you are. I know you can help with this."

Luna sat down across from Hermione. "Since I brought this up, I'll ask. I'm still not entirely sure it's a valid path."

Luna closed her eyes and took a few breaths. A fine soft green glow surrounded her and it seemed to contain hundreds of twinkling lights.

Hermione looked at her, unsure of what was happening, then blinked in surprise when she heard a small pop beside her. A strange, eight legged cat with a prehensile tail looked at her for a moment, then vanished with another pop. All around the room bizarre creature after bizarre creature appeared with a pop, then vanished a moment later. Perhaps the weirdest creature was the short naked man with a horn protruding from his forehead. He looked angrily at Hermione and shook his fist at her, then grabbed himself and gave her a rude hand gesture before he vanished.

When Luna finally shook herself and opened her eyes, the glow faded. She looked around the room for a moment, then smiled sadly.

"What was that?" asked an amazed Eocho.

Luna stood and brushed a speck of imaginary dirt from her skirt. "Oh, I had to ask Nature if I was on the right track."

"You --- You communed with nature?" asked Eocho incredulously.

Luna smiled dreamily. "Of course I did. Communing is nice and all, and it's wonderful to commune with Draco when we're making love, but it's not all that useful elsewhere. I mean, I tried communing with a tree once, but that didn't work very well, as we don't speak the same language at all. But communing while making love works very well."

Hermione peered at Luna inquisitively.

Luna, spotting her expression, snickered. "Try it, Hermione. It's fascinating."

Eocho shook his head, sat down on nothing, and stared at the girl.

"I must go now. There is a book growing in the Haven school library that I need to check. It may hold a clue to our problem. And Draco needs me tonight," Luna said, as she walked from the room.

There was a moment of silence after Luna left.

"Did we accomplish anything with this meeting?" Hermione muttered.

"Yes child, we did -- I think. Luna picked a path to research — and you and I both received a lesson in patience," Eocho said, still staring at the door Luna had exited.

Washington D.C....

Ambassador Sir Reginald Williams closed up his office for the evening and locked the door. It had been another hectic day. The U.S. Government had graciously offered the British Government in Exile space in which they could house themselves. The British Government had accepted. The Royals were being housed in Canada, along with a large number of members of the House of Lords who had managed to flee the country. But the real working Government would be in the United States so as to be closer to the United Nations.

Sir Williams' destination now was one of the more obscure buildings provided by the Yank government. The large warehouse had been a white elephant when the Yanks first offered it. No one knew exactly what to use it for. Then the Embassy began to receive packages from 'Case Green'.

The Rolls Royce pulled into the driveway, it's small Union Jack flags snapping in the air stream. As soon as the car stopped, the driver jumped out and opened the door to allow Sir Williams to exit. Nearby, a small group of men and one woman waited respectfully.

One from their group broke away and approached Sir Williams. "Ambassador Williams? I am Dr. Raleigh, from the Smithsonian National Museum. My government asked me to assist you as best as I can," said Dr. Raleigh, offering his hand.

Sir Williams smiled thinly and shook the Doctor's hand. "I take it you have been briefed then?" he asked.

"Oh yes, Sir. We even have a representative of our Department of Magic with us tonight, an Agent Jackson," he replied in a hushed tone and then he pointed to the smartly dressed woman who nodded to both men.

"Very good, then. Shall we begin?" he said, and led Dr. Raleigh towards the locked door of the warehouse.

After the door was unlocked, the group entered and huddled by the doorway while Sir Williams searched for the light switch. When he found the panel and started flipping switches, the interior lit up under the glare of overhead halogen lamps to reveal hundreds of crates.

"When the shipments first started arriving from 'Case Green' we weren't sure what to make of it. But then the Prime Minister briefed me on what was occurring. At the time, people thought it was a case of theft. In reality, it was an attempt to preserve the cultural heritage of the United Kingdom. From what I understand, some of the objects are under a 'stasis spell' and our purpose tonight is to figure out which objects they are, and get them to a proper storage facility that will be supplied to us by the U.S. Government. It is my understanding that this 'spell' cannot last forever and the items under the 'spell' will begin to decay if not taken care of?" Sir Williams looked to the witch for confirmation.

"Yes, sir. The spell is really only good for a few months at the most, then it will wear off," replied Agent Jackson.

"Right, then. Dr. Raleigh has brought sufficient people with him tonight to begin categorizing everything, so let's get cracking."

Agent Jackson conjured a table and several chairs so that she, Dr. Raleigh and Sir Williams could sit comfortably, while the others fanned out, checking the labeling on the crates. Dr. Raleigh was called several times to view the contents of certain crates.

Raleigh looked up from the growing list of inventory. "Some of these items are true treasures, Mr. Ambassador. Some have never left your country before," he said in a low murmur.

"Yes. We got quite lucky, I think. But I don't understand how even a building as big as this one can hold some of these objects. According to the manifests we have, there are some naval vessels in the lists," replied Williams.

"Shrinking charms," replied Jackson with a shrug. "Very easy to cast. They can make anything you want both smaller and lighter. I remember one time we stole an entire Soviet MIG29. The agent in charge of the operation concealed the plane in the bag full of children's toy models and walked right through customs, telling them the toys were for his son."

"So the Victory is really out there?" asked Williams in disbelief.

Jackson shrugged her shoulders. "Probably. It is, after all, on the list, Sir Williams."

He was about to reply when another voice shouted for their attention. "Dr. Raleigh, come over here!"

All three turned to see one of Raleigh's men gesturing wildly from one of the many paths between the crates. Curious, all three stood and walked over to the man. The man was pale and trembling violently.

"George?" asked Raleigh with no small amount of alarm.

"What is going on?" asked Williams in concern.

"This is George Anderson, Sir William. He is our expert in Egyptian Antiquities. He holds the position I once used to hold. Something has him very upset," replied Dr. Raleigh.

George pointed with a shaking finger at the label on the side of the open crate. Raleigh peered at the label. Reading the contents, his eyes lit up with joy. Turning from the label he lifted the top of the crate and peered in.

Dr. Raleigh slammed the top of the crate back down. Trembling violently, he took three steps back from the crate, his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish, then seemed to fold in on himself as he fell into a dead faint, hitting the floor hard.

Both Agent Jackson and Sir Williams moved forward in alarm.

"It's the Rosetta stone... it's whole again!" whispered George Anderson, whose eyes then rolled up into the back of his head as he, too, fainted.

Ballincollig, County Cork, Ireland (June 10th)…

When the knock came on the apartment door, Dumbledore palmed his wand. He was expecting Charlie Weasley, but one could never be too careful these days. Opening the door a crack and seeing the redhead, Albus opened the door fully and ushered the younger man in. Closing the door quickly, he cast several security charms on the door before turning back to his guest.

"You had no problems leaving Haven, then?" Albus asked.

"No. I was able to apparate from my cottage," Charlie told him as he dug through one of the pockets of his coat. "I have the map you requested. Rather than taking one from the Ministry, I made my own." Pulling the map from his coat, he turned to look at Dumbledore, and his jaw dropped.

The man standing before him looked...appalling. The flowing hair and beard were gone, as were the magnificent robes Albus normally wore. In front of him stood an average looking old man with little hair, no beard and wearing a worn looking, plain brown robe.

Albus laughed at the younger man's expression. "I will assume, from your look, that I pass muster, then?"

"What have you done to yourself?" Charlie asked, shocked.

"I could not walk around Haven looking like myself, could I? No, a disguise was needed. A glamor might have worked for awhile, but eventually someone would have seen through it. It has been so long since anyone has seen me without my hair and beard that a visit to a muggle barber in Cork, and some second-hand robes, took care of the problem."

Charlie stared at him dumbly for a moment before shaking his head. "No one would ever mistake you for Albus Dumbledore as you are now!"

"And that, my dear boy, is the whole point. Between Harry's Pensieve memory and the Aurors around him the day of the Death Eater attack, my looks are a little too well known around Haven at the moment."

"Speaking of that, Sir, what happened? How is it you became involved with a group of Death Eaters?" Charlie asked, his expression grim.

Albus scowled. "I was not involved with them, Charles. I made a mistake, nothing more. I detected magic being used and was curious." He shook his head. "I apparated to the area and watched the fight, trying to figure out what was happening. I should have left when the fight ended, but I wanted to hear what Harry was saying. My mistake was in using magic to listen to the conversation. Somehow, young Harry detected the casting of my spell and exposed my position."

"Harry has convinced those around him that you are in league with Voldemort's forces in Ireland because of that incident," Charlie told him seriously.

Dumbledore met Charlie's gaze fully, his expression sorrowful. "I realized the moment I was caught that he would use the incident to his advantage. My mistake has given him a tighter hold on his people."

Charlie's fists clenched at his sides. "We have to find some way of breaking them free, Sir!"

"I am working on it, Charles. Now, let me look at the map."

"Oh, right." Moving to the kitchen table, Charlie unfolded the map of Haven he'd made and spread it out on the table. "It's all here, including those empty buildings still awaiting businesses."

Dumbledore studied the map carefully for several minutes, noting the location of the new Ministry's building, the Weasley's cottages and the town square. "And the manor? Where is it located?"

Charlie frowned. "I don't know. I've never been invited there and wasn't going to press my luck by just showing up."

"Interesting. Well now, tell me about this building, Charles." Albus pointed to a place on the map, very close to the new Ministry building.

"As of this morning, it's still empty. It's two story, if you count the attic," Charlie replied, a little confused.

"Is that all you can tell me?"

Charlie rolled his eyes. "I don't mean to be rude, Sir, but perhaps if I knew what you were looking for, I'd be of more help."

Dumbledore watched him for a moment, then smiled. "I'm going to open a pub, Charles. I need an appropriate building for that purpose."

"A pub?"

"I will need some reason for being in Haven, Charles. Harry has invited Irish citizens into the town to open businesses. What's more Irish than a pub?" Albus asked him, his eyes twinkling merrily.

Charlie's eyes widened for a moment, then he turned to the map and frowned. "The building you're interested in would work fine for such a business. The attic should be spacious enough to suit as private quarters, and you're close enough to the community hall to pull in people."

"I am not so interested in making money from this endeavor. Bringing in customers is the least of my concerns."

"You might want to rethink that. It would look odd if a publican cared nothing for profits and customers."

Dumbledore beamed at Charlie and slapped him on the back. "You are correct, of course. Besides, if the pub is popular, the information I need will flow right through the front doors!"

Charlie grinned. "Alright, what's next?"

Under The Broken Wand, Armagh, Northern Ireland (June 10th)...

Tonks froze when she felt two wand tips pressing up to the back of her neck. Slowly she moved her hands out where they could be seen.

"Move forward. Do as your told and you might make it out of here alive." hissed the voice.

Tonks moved into the larger room. There were several tables set up and, along side one wall, sat a heavy set man with a lithe girl on his lap. The man watched with indifference as they prodded Tonks in his direction. The girl continued to nibble on his ear for a moment before removing herself from his lap to sit on the arm of his chair where she could watch the events unfold.

One of the men behind Tonks began to roughly search her, relieving her of wand, watch, wallet and other items, including the Irish supplied emergency portkey.

She winced inwardly, then remembered the bracelet she wore that Harry had given her. For some reason that was overlooked by her captors. The person who had searched her dumped her possessions on a table in front of the seated man, and then stepped back.

The burly man leaned forward in his chair and rummaged through the items. He spent some time looking in the wallet. "So, Mickey says you wanted to talk to me?" drawled the burly man.

When Tonks didn't respond, she felt a wand dig painfully in to her back as a warning, and she nodded. "Mickey said you had work for people. I need work," she said nervously. Tonks had been in some bad spots before, but this one ranked right up there. Her only consolation was Harry's portkey.

The girl looked through the stuff on the table and then picked up Tonks' wand, which she looked over carefully. She looked quickly at Tonks, her eyes narrowed, then back at the wand. When her eyes widened slightly, as if in surprise, Tonks tensed. But when the girl simply twirled the wand in her fingers as she sat on the edge of the chair, Tonks forced herself to relax.

"Mason," she said in a whining tone. "He's kinda cute, in a dumpy sort of way. He reminds me of a teacher I once had."

Mason glared up at the girl who nodded back to him. The girl leaned closer to Mason, allowing her blouse to fall away from her body and giving Mason a distracting view.

"Dammit, Angie, I can't keep helping every stray that stumbles in here. I have a business to run!" protested Mason, trying to tear his eyes away from the girls cleavage.

"But, Mason," she whined. She shook her shoulders slightly, causing his 'view' to move encouragingly.

"Fine! Bring him into the office and I'll find him something," growled Mason.

The rest of the men all looked around, trying to avoid his gaze. Mason may have been the one running the syndicate, but Angie ran Mason and they all knew it. And they all knew better than to say anything to Mason about it.

Mason stood and stomped his way into a small office. Tonks followed him silently, with Angie prodding her in the back using her own wand.

Once in the smaller office, Mason took seat behind the desk. Angie pulled out her own wand and sealed the door before casting several privacy spells.

"Now, what would Nymphadora Tonks be doing with an Irish Ministry portkey?" asked the girl, who was calmly twirling Tonks' wand in her hand.

Tonks paled. "Who?" she stammered.

"Drop the disguise, Nymphie," the girl said with a smirk, then moved over to stand next to Mason. She reached out and fondly ruffled his hair before turning her attention back to Tonks.

Mason raised his wand and aimed it at her chest.

"Well?" Angie said again, her voice hardening.

Tonks sighed and morphed back into her normal state. Mason's eyes widened and he glanced up at Angie, who looked smug.

Tonk nervously fingered her portkey bracelet and Angie's eyes widened. She couldn't see the bracelet, but she could see her fingering something.

"Don't do it, Tonks. Not everything is as it seems here," said the girl hurriedly, then she turned to Mason. "Dear, would you kindly undo my charm?"

Mason looked up at her for a moment, surprised, before nodding. He waved his wand at Angie and the girl changed into an older, more mature version of herself.

"Angela Ollivander?" Tonks blurted out in surprise.

Angie smiled and winked at Nymphadora before turning to Mason. "Tonks entered the academy just after I graduated, dear. I remember her well. We were all excited about having the first metamorph in nearly a century enter the academy. Tonks," she said, turning back to the young Auror, "I'd like you to meet Mason Long, my husband."

Angie walked around the desk, motioning for Tonks to sit, while she conjured some tea. Tonks eyed her warily.

"Oh, do relax, Tonks. Your arrival solves a whole world of problems for us."

"Quite. We've been out in the cold for months now, since the fall of the Government. Our network dried up. Are you now working for a Irish? We're willing to help," offered Mason.

Tonks looked back and forth between the two. She had known Angie when she was just a cadet. Angie had been a hotshot rookie who'd quickly made a name for herself. During the academy years, there hadn't been a single female cadet who didn't look up to her, awed. She had quickly become a legend in the DMLE as an undercover operative. But Tonks had lost track of Angie a few years after she had graduated.

Angie placed a hand on Mason's shoulder. "I think that Tonks is still unconvinced. I know I would be, in her position."

Then Angie reached over and gave Tonks her wand. "I remember hearing about that wand, you see," she told Tonks. "Uncle Ollivander was in seventh heaven when you commissioned it. A wand containing one of your own hairs? Very powerful, but it will only work for you."

For the first time Tonks began to relax. Only a few in the Ministry knew about that. And Ollivander, of course. His niece had probably learned about it from him.

"Angie, what the devil is going on? Just what is one of the DMLE's most successful female undercover operatives doing in Northern Ireland?" Tonks asked in exasperation.

Angie smirked. "Now, now, Tonks. Is that anyway to talk to someone who probably just saved your life?"

"It is a valid question though, dear," Mason said quietly.

Tonks turned to look at Mason, who appeared to be at least twenty years older than Angie and Irish, at that.

"Don't let his accent fool you, Tonks. He's been MLE longer than both of us combined. And to answer your question, we've been here for a number of years now, running the third largest syndicate in the city. It's a good cover to keep an eye on the troubles. Or it was, at any rate. But with the Ministry gone, we're adrift here."

Tonks nodded thoughtfully. Running an undercover operation as a criminal element would be different and above suspicion as far as both sides of the Irish conflict were concerned. The Ministry of Magic's position on the Irish troubles was a simple one. Keep the Wizarding world out of the conflict, no matter which side they picked. The Irish troubles with their religious overtones of Catholics versus Protestants troubled the Wizarding World, and they wanted no part of it.

"So what is the deal, Tonks? Have you become free lance or something?" asked Angie with a hint of steel in her voice.

"Freelance? Merlin, no. I still work for the DMLE, but I'm on loan to the Irish..."

"Wait a second! The DMLE is still around? Who's running things?" asked Mason incredulously.

Tonks frowned. "Don't you folks up here get the Dublin Daily?"

Both Mason and Angie nodded. "Yes, we do, but that rag is nearly as bad as the Daily Prophet or Quibbler. You really can't trust it," protested Mason.

"Well, you can trust this. There is a Ministry of Magic in Exile based in Haven. Amelia Bones is the current Minister and Miles Pickerton is in overall charge of the war effort, including our DMLE," Tonks said quietly.

Mason and Angie exchanged a look. It was a common occurrence between long time spouses and, with it, they could communicate volumes. Then Angie turned back to Tonks.

"Can you put us in contact with Miles, then? We've been out in the cold since the government fell, running without any guidance or support," asked an anxious Mason.

Angie placed an hand on his arm. "Wait a second, love. Tonks, why are you here?"

"Like I started to say, I'm on loan to the Irish. They are worried about a cell of Death Eaters that made it over to Ireland before Harry put up the ward."

"You mean that ward is real?" asked Mason, a bit awed.

"Of course it's real. I was one of those who helped Harry raise it," Tonks said, grinning.

"And it really works?" asked Angie, the doubt evident in her voice.

Tonks frowned and remembered her academy days when Angie gave guest lectures. And how she'd teased her about some of her magic. "Oh, it works alright. Harry's got more ability than any wizard I've ever seen," replied Tonks hotly.

"Wait, wait... We're getting off track, love," said Mason, trying to divert his wife. "We have a chance here to come in from the cold. Let's concentrate on that."

Angie paused, then nodded. "You're right."

Tonks watched the two of them for a moment. She envied the relationship they seemed to have. But one thing was clear, two of the DMLE's best operatives were coming in from the cold, and she would facilitate that.

Hogwarts Castle (June 12th)...

The atmosphere in the Chamber of Secrets would always be dank and uncomfortable, but after the work Outcasts had done, it was considerably more cheerful than it had been. It was into this cheerfully dank atmosphere that Harry Potter appeared.

He had made small modifications to the new wards on the castle, which allowed him to move into and out of the room without being detected, but he wanted to keep his use of magic in this room to a minimum. That was why he appeared in the room with two full sized crates, rather than shrinking them before apparating.

Harry waited. It never took long for the ghosts to notice him. A moment later, the Bloody Baron arrived.

Harry bowed briefly. "I received your message, Baron. How can I be of service?"

The Baron stared at him for a moment, then another ghost appeared next to him.

Harry took one look at the new ghost and stumbled back in shock. "Penelope?" he asked in a whisper.

Penelope Clearwater smiled softly. "Do not mourn me or my passing, Harry. My life ended when the man I loved fell in love with power."

Harry nodded, but he couldn't stop the tears that slid down his cheeks. He had never known Penelope well, but seeing her now, in such a state, hurt.

"The Dark Lord is using a vile ritual to steal power. The power is transferred from one person to another, killing the witch or wizard in the process," she said, then her expression grew sad. "Such was my fate, as Walden McNair took my power and my life. Severus Snape is held in the castle, and is brewing the potions for this obscene rite.

As Penelope described the process, Harry grew more and more horrified. Finally he waved her to silence. "Baron... you were right to ask for me to come here and hear this first hand. I... I don't know what to say at the moment, but I will be back in a day or so. The crates contain more toys for Peeves."

Harry bowed quickly to the Baron, then threw an apologetic look at Penelope before vanishing from sight.

Padfoot Manor...

Hermione and Emma looked up from the table when the door to the room burst open and Harry rushed past them and into the bathroom. The two were in the sitting room, off the master bedroom, and had been discussing handfasting plans and what Hermione would be wearing.

Hermione stood when she heard the sound of Harry retching. She started towards the bathroom, but Emma stopped her.

"Wait a moment, then go to him." she said softly.

A moment later the toilet flushed and both felt the Brotherhood medallions they wore vibrate, signaling an urgent meeting.

Dan walked into the bedroom holding his medallion and looking at the two women curiously.

The door to the bathroom opened and Harry stepped out. Dobby appeared and Harry whispered something to him. The elf's eyes widened and he nodded quickly before vanishing. He appeared a moment later with a full bottle of Fire Whiskey and a tray of glasses.

Hermione took one step towards him. "Harry?" she asked in alarm.

He held up a hand, silencing her, and accepted the glass from Dobby with a trembling hand. Downing the drink in a single swallow, he sat at the table and rubbed a hand across his mouth.

"Harry, you're frightening me," whispered Hermione.

He looked up and smiled weakly at her, then reached for her hand. "I'm sorry, love," he said in a soft voice. "I'm pretty frightened myself right now. Please, just wait until everyone gets here and I'll explain what is going on. I don't want to have to say this twice if I can help it."

His eyes begged her for a reprieve. He obviously only wanted to explain this once. One by one, the Brotherhood members filed into Harry's bedroom. Hermione took to conjuring chairs for everyone instead of pressing him for details. Among the last to enter were Luna, Ginny and Eocho.

Luna, more perceptive than most, took one look at Harry and then spun into Draco's arms, crying softly.

"Everyone's here, Harry," Hermione told him softly.

Harry nodded and began to speak without looking at anyone.

"I received a message from the Bloody Baron today, asking me to meet with him. He had information that he felt was important enough to risk my apparating to the Chamber of Secrets. When I arrived, I met a new Hogwarts ghost. It was Penelope Clearwater. Do you remember her? The Ravenclaw prefect who used to date Percy Weasley?"

Ginny moved closer to Neville and he wrapped an arm around her protectively.

"Apparently, Voldemort is using a ritual which transfers the powers from one witch or wizard to another. The ritual kills its victim, painfully. The end result is a stronger, more powerful witch or wizard and a corpse. Penelope told me that Voldemort has Snape and another Potions Master brewing the potions for this ritual. Draco, remember that we wanted to know what those Cauldrons of Chaos were for? Well, this is it. The Cauldrons are needed because one of the potions is so volatile it would cause any lesser cauldron to explode.

"The only good new I can see in this awful mess is that a person can undergo the rite only twenty times, with two weeks between each ritual. The bad news is that Snape is brewing the potions for Voldemort, and another Potion Master is making them for members of his inner circle, but they aren't being brewed in Hogwarts."

Harry stopped speaking and sagged slightly in his chair.

Hermione took the half full glass of fire whiskey he held and swallowed it quickly. Several others moved to pour themselves a drink. Dan and Emma were the only ones who didn't seem to understand the disgusting nature of the ritual.

"I don't understand why this upsets everyone so much. Yes, it's cruel and disgusting, but how is this different than the hundreds who are starving everyday in Britain right now? Why is everyone so upset?" Emma asked plaintively.

Hermione looked over at her mother. "Mum... a ghost isn't the persons soul. It's more like a recording of a personality. When Penelope had her magic ripped from her, what made her the person she was, her soul, was destroyed."

"There is a belief that our magic is tied to our soul, Emma," Remus said in a quiet voice. "To destroy one, destroys the other. Penelope was not only killed, she was destroyed, denying her an afterlife."

Dan looked shocked and Emma shivered violently. The two were still coming to grips with the changes Harry had awoken in them, and the new world they now belonged to. In some ways, their Christian beliefs conflicted with the Wizarding world. But being told that an immortal soul had been destroyed? It not only shook the foundations of their belief, but they both began to realize that evil, true evil, did have a name: Voldemort.

There was another moment of silence, then Remus released the breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "Well, that explains that. At least now we know."

Harry looked at him sharply. "Know what? Explains what? Remus, we have to find a way to stop this!"

"No, Harry, we need to let this continue," Remus replied sadly.

Harry surged to his feet and face Remus. "What? Are you insane? He's destroying people, Remus! He's stealing their magic, killing them as painfully as possible, destroying their very souls, and you expect me to sit here and do nothing?"

Remus placed a hand on Harry's shoulder and closed his eyes, trying to block out the pain and outrage in the younger man's gaze. "You don't have a choice, Harry," he said quietly. Opening his eyes, he shook his head. "Remember the prophecy conflict? Voldemort had to find a way to either bring his power level up to yours, or bring yours down to his. If we put a stop to this, the war will go on until he finds another obscene way of equalizing power levels. Frankly, I'm more concerned about his inner circle getting boosted than I am about Voldemort getting boosted. That will make the fight all the more difficult.

"I don't like this, Harry. I fully plan on getting myself quite drunk tonight. But I don't think we can stop it. I'm not even sure we'd be allowed to interfere. This has to happen," Remus said, his eyes haunted.

Harry stared at his friend for a minute before nodded in defeat and turning away from Remus.

"How can we be expected to go up against wizards who are so powerful?" asked Terry, worriedly.

"Guile and intelligence," Eocho said softly, and everyone turned to face him.

"When an enemy relies on brute strength, you must be smarter than him. That your foe may be stronger doesn't necessarily mean he is a better or more intelligent fighter. I know of this ritual that you speak of. It is evil magic at its worst. But even with its use, your enemy will have to rely on the combined strengths of himself and his inner circle to match that of the Maglios. And therein lies our advantage. The Maglios is not just a wizard, he is an enchanter."

Several people looked confused.

"Of course!" Draco exclaimed, and all eyes swung to him sharply. "Harry can enchant objects at his power level. We've all been learning the rune stone magic. But if Harry were to make the stones, rather than someone like Mr. Granger, who is also an enchanter, the rune stones would be much stronger! That would mean we'd be able to cast at least the rune stone magic at Harry's level of power."

Eocho nodded at Draco and smiled slightly. Several others in the room relaxed as they thought about the solution. Luna, who had been holding onto Draco, brightened.

"Voldemort isn't exactly known for recruiting the best wizards. McNair, and people like him, will be so enthralled over their own power boost that they'll consider fight training to be a waste of time," murmured Remus reflectively.

"We're going to need to try to find out who is in Voldemort's inner circle," Dan suggested. He glanced at Draco, who nodded and pulled out a small pad to make a note to himself.

"We need more than names. We need to find out as much as possible about them," Draco said, mostly to himself.

Throughout the conversation Harry had backed himself up against a wall. He was having difficulty coming to grips with the idea that he had no choice but to let this abomination go unchecked.

"Voldemort wouldn't risk letting anyone in his inner circle becoming as powerful as he was, would he?" asked Hermione, her eyes on Harry.

"I don't think so," replied Dan. "Voldemort has all the symptoms of being a megalomaniac. He'll let his people get boosted, but no where near to his level."

Hermione walked over to Harry. She was concerned about his reaction to the ritual.

"Harry?" she said softly. His eyes looked haunted. The situation was much like the one they'd faced last year, when the prophecies said they had to leave Britain.

He leaned his head down so that his forehead touched her head and placed his hands on her waist. "I'll be alright," he whispered to her. "It's just the shock of it. Stealing someone's magic... and then Penelope... we knew her."

"Remus is right. If we stop this, even more people will die," she replied quietly.

Harry sighed, and kissed her forehead. "I know," he said, then turned to the others.

"Draco, we need to find out all we can about this ritual, it's limitations and what it does. I also want to know who is part of Voldemort's inner circle. See if you can get our elves to pry information from elves still attached to families in Britain. Eocho is correct. If we're going to go up against stronger opponents, we need to do something unusual.

"Ginny, get together with Fred and George. Talk to them about things we can do that will be lethal and fast. If we have to fight these people, we're not going to resort to jelly legs jinxes and the like. I want them taken down permanently. I don't want a single one of us to have to go into an extended duel with an opponent that strong."

"Draco, brief Miles about this. He needs to know in case one of the teams runs across a boosted inner circle member."

As Harry talked, he straightened up, discarding the defeated feeling he'd had since returning from Hogwarts.

As a group, everyone recognized the commands of the leader of the Brotherhood and they slowly filed from the room to consider various options.

Remus, Hermione, her parents and Eocho looked at him after the others had left.

"Oh, I'm alright now. I don't like what I have to do, but I'll do it. Besides, I have Hermione here to kick me when I start feeling sorry for myself," Harry said with a lopsided grin, though it didn't quite reach his eyes.

Under The Broken Wand, Armagh, Northern Ireland...

Tonks leaned back in the comfortable chair and sipped her tea. This has to be the easiest undercover assignment I've ever had, she mused. She had no idea going into this assignment that Mason, along with his wife, Angie, were DMLE operators who had been cut adrift when the government fell. Once that had been established, she had spent many a comfortable hour talking with Angie, while Mason had the members of his syndicate locating the hiding hole of the Death Eaters.

Angie was surprised to learn that Tonks had become engaged, let alone to a former werewolf, and was now one of the leading citizens of Haven. Lupin's werewolf status was common knowledge, even to Angie, and Tonks had to explain how it had been altered, making him the first werewolf animagus on record. That revelation led to a discussion about Remus and Harry.

"Is it true he survived another killing curse, Tonks?" asked Angie.

Tonks was a bit surprised to discover that Angie, for all her hard headed pragmatism, was just a bit of a Harry Potter fan girl. "Yes. One of his dorm mates was a Death Eater. He hit Harry with the curse just before Harry destroyed the Ministry. It was the same day as the Bombing," Tonks replied with a slight shiver. She remembered that day well. The fear and the sickening realization that events were in motion that no one could control.

Angie nodded reflectively. The Bombing had become a signature event in the life of wizarding Britain and Ireland. Ask someone of the older generations where they were when Grindelwald fell, and they would tell you, in exacting detail, not only where they were, but what they had been doing. It was the same with the Bombing.

"Yes, I remember," Angie said softly as she, too, shivered.

"Harry doesn't like to talk about that much, or talk about his fame at all. Remember that when you meet him and don't bring that up. He'll be more interested in hearing about what you have been doing, both before and after the government fell, than talking about himself. He's a right modest bloke, when you get down to it. He doesn't think he's anything special at all."

"Mason is like that," Angie offered. "He's a mean fighter, one of the best I've ever seen. But unless he's out there..." she trailed off.

Tonks knew what she meant. Mason had two sides, one which he showed to Angie, and to Tonks since she was staying with them. And the side he had developed as part of his undercover persona. Two totally different personalities.

"Tonks, I'm confused about something. This ward that's been placed around mainland Britain. You say you helped Harry do it?"

Tonks sighed, then realized that it was better that Angie was asking her, rather than asking Harry about it. "We performed a power sharing ritual. Even Harry doesn't have enough power to do something like that himself."

Angie nodded, her expression a bit wistful. Most modern wizards and witches had never performed in any ritual, or joined magic. It was something out of a nostalgic past and hearing about it made many wish for a time where people trusted each other enough to share power, or join each other in a rite.

"Is he really that powerful?"

Tonks was about to answer when the door opened and Mason entered, carrying a scroll and wearing a broad smile. "I knew it wouldn't take too long to track them down for you, Tonks," he said, handing her the scroll.

Unrolling the scroll revealed a map with a large farm estate circled. Tonks looked up from the map, an eyebrow raised in question.

"According to my sources, this estate was nearly deserted three months ago. Then the number of people living there increased dramatically. It's only a guess, but I'd say there must be close to one hundred and fifty people living there now."

Tonks blinked in surprise. "How did you find out how many are now living there?" she demanded.

Mason smirked. "One of the things my syndicate controls is dairy production and deliveries, Tonks, for all of Northern Ireland," he gloated.

"Milk deliveries?" Tonks asked incredulously.

Angie's eyes twinkled. "Mason and I had an agreement. Before I married him, I made him get rid of the usual crime syndicate stuff like drugs and prostitution. So, he opted to try his hand at controlling certain key industries instead and left the drugs and prostitution to the other gangs. You can't buy a liter of milk or a piece of cheese in Northern Ireland without it having passed through Mason's hands. The same goes for fuel oil and liquor distribution," she said proudly.

Tonks raised an eyebrow and looked at Mason, reassessing him yet again. Mason looked embarrassed by her scrutiny and shot his wife a glare for her bragging. Tonks snickered and turned back to the map, looking it over.

"Tonks, you know the Irish can't hit this place, don't you?" asked Mason seriously.

Tonks looked up at him, then her expression changed. She sagged in her chair as Mason's comment sunk in. He was right. The Republic of Ireland couldn't hit this place. She rolled up the map and looked at the two. "Can you get away for a day or two?" she asked.

Receiving nods from both, Tonks smiled impishly. "Good. Tomorrow we're bringing you in from the cold."

Padfoot Manor, (June 16th)...

Harry stepped out of the manor house and stretched in the morning sun. It was only five thirty A.M., but he was awake and starting his day with a morning walk. It had become part of his early morning ritual. He could no longer jog the grounds, so he walked them instead, leaving peanuts for Nutters and his friends. After his walk, he'd swim for awhile before returning to the manor to have breakfast and start his work day. He had invited Hermione to join him on a number of occasions but she declined. She seemed to think that five thirty A.M. was an unreasonable hour to be out and about.

He shook his head in amusement. Hermione wasn't the most active of people, especially if one handed her a book. Her idea of enjoyment was sitting out in the sun, reading. Although Harry had made progress in changing her mind about that, he still hadn't convinced her that an early morning walk was a good idea.

After completing his morning Ti Chi sets, he turned to begin the exercises he used to stretch his leg muscles. In a way, he was glad Hermione wasn't there to witness how painful he found these particular exercises. He stopped when he heard a pair of pops behind him. Turning, he found Dobby and Pappy watching him.

Dobby's eyes held possessive pride as he gazed at Harry, while Pappy tugged on his ears nervously.

"Dobby? Pappy? Is there a problem?" Harry asked.

Dobby shook his head, but Pappy jumped right in. "No problem, good Master Potter. We, that is, us elveses, wishes to make the bond, if that be alright with you."

Harry's eyes widened. "Now? Here?"

Pappy nodded vigorously.

Harry sighed in acceptance and the back yard of the manor was suddenly filled with the sound of arriving elves. As he watched, the field became packed with elves. It was an impressive sight.

Dobby walked over to stand beside Harry and he gently tugged on Harry's hand.

Harry turned his attention back to Pappy and the elves nearest him. Pappy straightened up and his ears stood straight out from his head. As one, the elves behind Pappy knelt on one knee.

Pappy walked forward slowly and he knelt before Harry. With both hands, he gripped Harry's right hand in his own and pressed it to his forehead. There was a ripple in the field of elves and a sudden roaring sound in Harry's ears. He swayed as the bonding of so many elves nearly overwhelmed his senses. He tried to protest. They were supposed to bond to Haven, not to him personally! He failed to understand that he personified Haven, just as the Headmistress personified the school.

When Pappy released his hand, Harry staggered backwards. He would have fallen had it not been for Dobby's magic catching him and holding him upright long enough to get his feet under him again. From the elves came a great cry of joy that shook the nearby trees, sending birds winging away in panic.

Harry looked around in bewilderment as the elves started to leave the clearing, heading off for their daily chores. He turned to see quite a few of the windows in the manor open and people leaning out to watch.

Remus watched Harry, the amusement plainly evident on his face, while Hermione frowned at him.

Harry looked ruefully at Dobby after seeing Hermione's expression. "I'm in so much trouble," he murmured. Dobby nodded and his ears drooped noticeably.

Hermione pulled her head out of the window when she felt someone tugging on her nightshirt. Turning, she was surprised to find Winky staring up at her and tapping one foot.

"Miss Hermione, please tell me yous not angry with Master Harry," Winky asked in a stern tone.

Since Hermione had bonded personally to Winky, the elf had become more assertive. While Hermione didn't think this was necessarily a bad thing, there were occasions when Winky's assertiveness seemed a little out of place.

"Winky, you saw what Harry just did out there," Hermione said, pointing out the window.

Winky walked over to the dresser and started pulling Hermione's clothes for the day out. "Yes, Missie, Winky saw Master Harry save the lives of many elveses. They not bond with Master Harry, but used him to bond to this place," she replied with a shrug.

"Winky just doesn't understand, Missie. You know the elves will get sick without a master. Even Dobby would be happier bonded to Master Harry. But you shouldn't be angry with Master Harry. He didn't do anything to deserve being angry about," Winky scolded as she placed clothing on the bed.

Hermione sighed and nodded in agreement. "I know, Winky, but it's a habit. I hate the idea of you being enslaved," she said, beginning to dress.

Winky shook her head in amusement. "I know Missie hates elveses bonding, yet her own bonding is even harder."

Hermione stared at the little elf in shock. "My own bonding?"

"Miss Hermione loves Master Harry. Master Harry would do anything Miss Hermione asks of him, as Miss Hermione would do for him. We all live with bonds of some kind, Miss Hermione. And all we can do is pray we bond with a gentle soul, like you and Master Harry. He is a kindly master. He loves Dobby, even loves Winky. He greatly loves you, Miss Hermione," Winky said in a serious tone while she set about making the bed.

"But...but... but it isn't like that," protested Hermione.

"Winky thinks it is. But if it makes yous feel better, you can think differently," Winky said smugly as she smoothed the bedspread.

Hermione sat down on a nearby armchair and stared out the window, thinking. Winky had disarmed her with elf logic, and not for the first time.

Armagh, Northern Ireland...

The eagle owl slowly flapped its wings while on the last legs of its long journey. Hitting a thermal current, the majestic bird relaxed and let the current lift it high above the landscape. Thanks to its keen eyesight, the large bird spotted the destination and began a slow spiraling glide towards an open window in the farm house far below.

Dolohov looked up from the letter he was writing as the large bird flew in and landed gracefully on the table. The bird had a small pouch around its neck contained dispatches. He removed the pouch and immediately started looking through the notes to see if there was anything which required immediate attention.

One item in particular caught his attention.

Dolohov,

The Master is sending you help. You are directed to send ten loyal men to Portmuck on Island Magee within the next five days. Be sure that the men are capable of working around Dementors. The contacts name will be Tarmash. Inform me when you have sent the men and make sure they are equipped to spend months away from Armagh.

Lucius

Dolohov rose from his chair. He knew a command from the Master when he saw one and, despite the fact that it came through Lucius, he wasn't about to ignore it. He quickly gathered the necessary men and sent them on their way before sitting down to reply.

Lucius,

As instructed I have sent off ten loyal men to Portmuck.

If at all possible, please convey to the Master that we are running dreadfully short of funds here. There is a local Gringotts branch up in Belfast we can access, or another on Stonewall Lane in Dublin. But we haven't any account access. If things do not change, we will be forced to resorting to larceny in order to finance our operations. While theft has never bothered me, it will increase our exposure.

I am enclosing copies of the Dublin Daily, which I doubt you've seen. I am sure the Master will be most interested in them. I was correct in my assessment that a great number of refugees had fled to Ireland. It seems that Harry Potter has created a town for them, which he named 'Haven'.

Potter has also overseen the formation of a British Ministry of Magic in Exile. According to the articles in the Dublin Daily, it has been recognized by the official muggle British Ministry in Exile. I do not have any way of getting into the town at the moment. I don't pretend to understand the political aspects of this.

I have confirmed the presence of a ward around the town of Haven, similar to one that now encircles mainland Britain. I sent a mixed team of loyalists and recruits to scout out Haven, but the loyalist leading the team was killed crossing the line and a recruit was captured. This ward makes it impossible for me to send any kind of mission to that town using loyal, marked followers. I could rely on unmarked followers, but their loyalty is questionable at best, and they are not even remotely close to being properly trained.

Please inform the Master of our activities and pass along my request for additional instructions. Your letter suggests the help he is sending might be capable of breeching the wards around Haven. If that turns out to be the case, we will attack as soon as I can get the recruits trained up.

Antonin Dolohov

With the reply complete, Dolohov placed the note and several old newspapers into the dispatch pouch and put it back on the owl.

The owl shot him a dirty look before leaping into the air and flying out the window for its long journey home.

Dolohov watched the bird until it dwindle into the distance. Then he stood, coming to a decision. His appeal for funding was more dire than he wanted Lucius to believe. He had very limited funding to start with, and paying for the food for nearly a hundred and fifty men was quickly eroding what he had. No, starting tomorrow he'd begin scattering his men about Ireland with orders to resort to crime to pay for their keep.

Dolohov walked to the door. He had plans to put in motion.

Government House, Haven (Later that day)...

"Minister?"

Amelia looked up to see Arthur Weasley's head sticking out of her fireplace. "Yes, Arthur?" she replied with a bit of a smile. She hadn't spent a lot of time working with Arthur before the fall of the Government, and his involvement in the crimes against Harry predisposed her to be wary of him.

But Harry had vouched for Arthur Weasley and she had come to discover he was a very hard working man. If he had a flaw, she could only say it had to be that he'd let himself and his family get caught in Dumbledore's web of lies.

"Minister, we've received notice from the Irish that Nymphadora Tonks is returning from the field and should be arriving shortly.. The notice went on to say that she asks that Miles and yourself be present for a special meeting." Arthur said seriously.

Amelia frowned. "Very well, Arthur. Contact Miles and ask him to join me here as quickly as he can."

Amelia straightened up her desk and made sure there was a fresh pot of tea handy. She didn't have long to wait before Miles and Arthur entered her office and the three barely had time to discuss the upcoming meeting when the door opened again, admitting Tonks and Mason and Angela Long. Amelia recognized the two undercover operatives almost instantly and surged to her feet.

"Angie? Mason? We thought you had either gone to ground or were lost to us," Amelia exclaimed happily.

Mason shook his head and smiled at his old boss. "No, Director. It was more like one day we woke up and found our network had vanished without a word."

After introducing everyone, Amelia waved the Longs to a pair of seats and looked at Tonks, who had set up this meeting.

"Minister, Mason and Angie were instrumental in getting the information that we, and the Irish, were looking for, but then Mason pointed out one critical fact that I don't think anyone here has realized," Tonks said, scowling.

Amelia sipped her tea for a moment. "Oh?"

"The Irish can't go after these Death Eaters, Minister. They are on U.K. soil," Tonks said softly.

The silence in the room was broken only by the hitching breaths of Amelia, Arthur and Miles as the realization set in. Legally, the Irish sending Aurors in to dig out the Death Eaters could be considered an invasion, an act of war.

"I think I have a solution to the problem, Minister," said Miles, "And it solves a problem that has been bothering me for a while now anyway."

Amelia motioned for Miles to continue.

"We're looking at roughly one hundred, maybe a hundred and a half, Death Eaters and sympathizers. Why not set up a international task force? I'll send a hundred of our boys, plus another hundred of the American and Canadians. The Irish can send a hundred of their own. The combined force will be double what we're up against and, because we're inviting the Irish to join us, it will be legal."

"How soon could you ready such a force, Miles?" asked Amelia intently.

Miles leaned back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling for a moment, thinking. "We have part of the force now, Amelia," he said, his eyes meeting hers once more. "The Americans and Canadians are working with our boys and training to work together. The big issue would be the Irish. I'd want them to work together for at least a week to ten days before sending them in on a mission like this. Coordination and cooperation is critical, otherwise mistakes will happen, mistakes that could cost lives."

Amelia nodded. She understood the complexity of running an operation such as this. "Arthur, can you meet with the Irish as soon as possible and let them know of the problem? Then invite them to join with us in a joint effort to clean up that nest of snake lovers."

Arthur nodded and made a quick note on the pad he'd taken to carrying with him.

"Mason, you and Angie go along with Miles to the operation center. We need to figure out if it pays to keep you in place and rebuild the network or bring you in completely. Tonks, I want to thank you for your efforts. You achieved your mission, reestablished contact with valuable lost assets and did it all without getting injured."

Tonks nodded and gave her friend an encouraging grin as Angie followed Miles and Mason from the room. Tonks was about to follow when Amelia stopped her.

"Auror Tonks, one moment more please," Amelia said.

Tonks sighed and reluctantly shut the door. Turning back, she faced both Arthur and Amelia. "Minister?"

"I am quite serious about our thanks, Miss Tonks," Minister Bones said in a formal tone. "Your contribution in locating the Death Eater cell will be duly noted in your file, along with a commendation signed by myself. But since you're here, I have one item that I would like to bring up with you."

Tonks took one of the vacant seats and looked at Amelia curiously.

"I find myself in new territory and wish an opinion. As you know, I was Director of MLE for a number of years and during that time none of our operatives had the right to use deadly force, except in a case of either saving their own life or that of others."

Amelia lifted a parchment and waved it at Tonks. "I have here a request from Miles and Harry, asking that the rules for deadly force be relaxed. And I have to admit I find it disturbing."

Tonks frowned and leaned further back in her chair. "Minister, I'm an Auror. I was trained to catch criminals and put them in prison during peacetime. But this isn't a time of peace.

"Miles, while he won't admit it, was high up in the Unspeakable department. Judging from the way he fights, I'd say he participated in more than a few wet operations.

"Harry is a warrior, not a keeper of the peace. When he fights, he doesn't take prisoners unless they are no longer a threat to him or others.

Both of these men, and yes, I will call Harry a man, have come to realize that this isn't a case of arresting some criminal. It's war and war means fighting by a different set of rules.

"Neither of them are asking for this rule change because they are blood thirsty killers. They are asking that we give our people a better chance of coming home to their families. I was trained to be a cop, to use a muggle term. Harry and Miles weren't. We must remember that, no matter how upsetting we may find it, we are at war. And as with any war, you shoot to kill," Tonks said, her voice laced with conviction.

Arthur nodded approvingly. "I have to agree with Tonks, Amelia. It's a necessary step, no matter how distasteful you might think it."

Amelia relaxed in her chair and cleaned her monocle for a moment. "Very well. Arthur, have Miles draft a change of procedure and I'll approve it. Tonks, I appreciate your input. I ask because you know Harry enough to see his reasoning behind his request."

Arthur took the parchment Amelia offered and made a note on the back of it before rolling it up again.

Tonks stood from her chair. "He just wants our people to come home to their families at night, Minister. He'll ask for anything that will help accomplish that."

Padfoot Manor (June 20th)...

Dan and Emma were enjoying their afternoon lesson with Harry. He was teaching them the basics of Defense Against the Dark Arts, as well as defense against magical creatures. It was a class that both the Grangers found surprisingly enjoyable. Harry didn't expect either of them to actually go into combat in mainland Britain like some of the younger members of their group, but he wanted to make sure they were capable of defending themselves.

To reach that point, Harry had started teaching them Ti Chi to strengthen and center them, as well as give them the meditative skills they'd need for some of the other disciplines they would learn.

"The Patronus charm is the only known defense against Dementors and Lethifolds, and I'm afraid as far as charms go, its not really a very good spell," Harry said ,while facing the Grangers.

"The Patronus is very hard to cast, and it will only drive off a Dementor or Lethifold, it won't kill it. It won't even injure it. On the plus side, a Dementor that's been driven off will rarely turn around and come back to attack again.

"The Patronus is difficult for a number of reasons. The primary reason being the total focus of the caster's mind on a happy memory. You must exclude everything that's happening around you and think only of that one, happy memory. Many wizards and witches fail to cast a Patronus because they're unable to find a memory happy enough. Those who can find a memory find themselves unable to focus on it to the point of ignoring the approaching Dementor while casting the spell."

Harry showed both of them the wand movement, and had them practice for a few minutes.

"Remember, there is no shame if you can't do this right. It took me months to learn how to do it properly. And when you've done it right and have a corporeal patronus, it doesn't matter what form or size it takes. Now, let me show you," he told them. He stood and turned sideways to them so they could see his wand movement.

He summoned up his happiest memory - Hermione telling him that she loved him. He smiled and whipped his wand forward.

"Expecto Patronum!" he shouted.

His wand spat out a great shower of silver mist, which formed into a giant stag. Prongs leapt forward, passing through the wall. Even Harry was impressed by the size of Prongs. The stag had grown to over twelve feet tall. He hadn't had to cast a Patronus in quite a while and apparently he had only gotten better at it.

Harry turned to look at Dan and Emma. "Emma, would you like to try?"

Nodding, Emma eagerly stood from her chair. "Expecto Patronum!" she shouted. Her wand spit out a silver mist, but it failed to turn into a corporeal form.

Emma looked at Harry, who nodded encouragingly. "That's really quite good for a first attempt, Emma. Most people don't even get the mist on the first try. Now, I think you need to consider using another memory to refine your feelings. Remember, you must use the memory that makes you happy when you recall it."

"Can I ask what memory you used, Harry?" Dan asked.

Harry blushed.

"Dan, don't embarrass him," chided Emma, "It's probably really personal and involves our daughter."

Harry looked between the two and, if it were possible, he blushed harder. "No... no... it wasn't like that. I used the memory of when Hermione first told me she loves me. That was months before we started um..."

Harry ducked his head and blushed even harder while Dan and Emma exchanged an amused glance. Dan stood while Harry was distracted. Harry's comment gave him an idea.

"Expecto Patronum!" Dan shouted.

Dan's wand spat out a great deal of silver mist, which then coalesced into a small rabbit.

Harry gaped at the little bunny glowing on the floor. Emma snickered at her husband. Dan straightened himself up to his full height and looked at Emma with a haughty expression.

"It's not the creature that matters," Dan said with a straight face, then he looked down at the glowing rabbit with a mournful expression.

Harry nodded in agreement. Privately he was not only surprised, but astounded that Dan could create such a powerful Patronus on his first attempt.

"Maybe I should get you some carrots?" offered Emma. Then she broke down laughing.

"No, no, this is really very good, Emma," Harry said with a straight face. "This is a very hard spell to cast, and Dan is right. It's not the form of the Patronus that matters." He tilted his head and examined the fuzzy little creature staring up at them. "Although, from the look of it, perhaps this is the bunny from that Holy Grail movie we watched the other night?"

Dan frowned and examined his Patronus more carefully, while Emma slid from her seat, laughing.

Haven Apparation Point...

"Name?" asked the bored guard.

"Rufus Radagast," said the old man, dressed entirely in brown.

The guard made a note in his book and then handed the man a small map.

"Welcome to Haven. You are only a short distance from town. If you're looking to open a business, you need to visit the Economic Office in the town hall, which is in the center of town. The Ministry building is next door to the hall if you have business with the Ministry of Magic. Please remember that all Irish laws are enforced. May you have a pleasant stay in Haven."

Radagast nodded pleasantly at the man and took the offered map, then turned and walked up the lane towards the town.

The guard made another note in his book and walked back into the small, one room office that had been set up to keep track of people entering Haven.

The process of opening a new pub in Haven was surprisingly easy. The Economic Office went out of their way to make things as simple as possible. By the time he left the office two hours later, he had a five year lease on the building he wanted and a shipper of pub supplies and drinks would be delivering samples for him to examine tomorrow. All in all, it was surprisingly easy.

Padfoot Manor (June 28th)...

Hermione woke when someone passed between her and the sunshine that was streaming in from the window. Blinking in the bright light, she could see Harry staring out the window.

"Harry?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean wake you."

"What are you doing?"

"Thinking mostly and worrying," he replied in a soft tone.

"Worrying? What's going on, Harry?" she asked, sitting up in bed and reaching for her robe.

"Caleb is leading the assault on those Death Eaters up north today. Three hundred fighters. Our people, Hermione. So many things can go wrong. I should be there with them."

"Harry, we've been through this before. I know you hate sending people off to fight, but it's your job to lead, not to take part in every battle we have to face," Hermione said in an annoyed tone.

"I know that. It doesn't mean I have to like it!" Harry snapped, then he frowned and ran a nervous hand though his hair.

"Look, Hermione, I'm sorry I snapped at you. I just can't get it out of my head that later today we may have people learning that they have a family member who won't be coming home again. Imagine how you would feel if you were in that position," he said softly.

Hermione joined him at the window and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him tight to her.

"I know, love. It's a terrible burden, but trust Miles and Caleb to know their jobs," she whispered, hugging him.

Harry nodded and continued to stare out the window.

Armagh, Northern Ireland...

Caleb sat huddled in the early morning rain and wondered for the tenth time why he hadn't become a healer like his mother wanted him to. Next to him, one of the Fairy Flier operators controlled the remote device. The floating hoop in front of them showed them what the Fairy was seeing and hearing. Which, at the moment, wasn't very much. The Fairy was positioned outside and looking in one of the farm house windows. As far as they could see, the room was empty. In fact, it looked like the entire farm house was nearly deserted.

Caleb's heart fell. The Death Eaters had fled while they were busy training the force!

Another man sprinted towards him, bent over and trying to maintain a low profile. He skidded to a halt and knelt down.

"Caleb, we found them. Send your Flier over to the barn," said the man breathlessly.

Caleb nodded to the operator, who swung the Flier around and moved it towards the barn.

"Look for the storm cellar entrance. It's against the eastern wall. You'll find an open entrance," the man told the operator.

Within moments, the Flier was peering into the darkened entrance of what appeared to be a large underground tunnel lit by torches.

Caleb leaned back on his knees and grinned. He turned to other man. "Excellent work. Send out the ward teams. I want those wards in place now. Once that's done, pass the word. We move in five."

The man nodded and sprinted away. Caleb watched him for a moment, then turned back to his Flier operator. "Take us into the tunnel. Let's see what we're dealing with."

The image changed as the Flier dropped into the tunnel entrance and moved further in. There was a long row of doors, all of which were closed. Caleb cursed and wished again that the fliers made by Q Branch had the ability to manipulate objects. Caleb glanced up to see teams of Aurors moving closer. He nodded approvingly to one of his team leaders as the group ghosted past his position, making almost no noise. Then he heard a funny shout.

Caleb turned back to the display for the Flier in time to see the Flier trying to back out of an open door. There was an inarticulate shout from the display hoop, a flash of light, and then the image when dark. The Flier had been spotted and destroyed.

"Shit!" muttered the operator, who looked at Caleb apologetically.

Caleb reached into a bag and pulled out a muggle flare gun. He fired it and then stood for a clear look at the farm in the distance.

"AURORS!" came a distant yell.

"Go, go, go!" shouted a nearby team leader.

All around the farm, teams of Aurors, British, Irish, American and Canadian, surged to their feet and ran towards the farm. Caleb could see men boiling up from several entrances around the farm house and other buildings and he cursed wildly. This was turning into a major screw up!

The Death Eaters set up a hasty defensive line protecting the entrances to the underground complex, while the Aurors moved closer.

A man ran by Caleb, running parallel to the farm house. He shot Caleb a thumbs up as he ran by. Caleb breathed a sigh of relief, the anti-portkey and anti-apparation wards were in place, the Death Eaters weren't going to escape that easily.

Caleb watched as his teams closed to within one hundred yards of the buildings, then everyone dove for cover as the Death Eaters started firing curses at anything at moved.

Caleb rushed forward to support his people. With the wards up, they had the Death Eaters surrounded, but they weren't going to give up without a fight.

Caleb winced when he heard someone scream. Up and down the line he could hear cries calling for the healers they had brought with them. He ducked and rolled to avoid a curse that passed his head by only a few inches.

The farm house itself was now on fire, its smoke obscuring the battle and making it difficult to pick targets. A group of Death Eaters broke from their ranks and ran towards the section of line where Caleb lay. They were receiving plenty of covering fire, which kept the Aurors in front of them from firing back, but elsewhere on the line, other sections were picking off the approaching Death Eaters as best as they could, considering the distance involved.

The wind shifted and smoke from the fire drifted over back over the battlefield in the direction of the breakout. Caleb coughed in the heavy smoke and looked up in surprise as a figure suddenly loomed over him. He surged to his feet and there was a flash of light. He felt his left arm go numb and something warm dripped down the back of his robe.

He snarled and cast a lethal cutting hex, catching the Death Eater just above the hip on a diagonal. The man screamed as his leg separated from his torso and he fell writhing to the ground as blood from multiple arteries fountained onto the ground.

Several Aurors cast a wind charm, trying to blow the smoke back and Caleb reeled in the murky air. Bright flashes of curse light lit the nearby smoke. Dazed, he stumbled back a few feet and tripped over the body of an American Auror. Several of the reserve squads, consisting mostly of Americans, moved up to his position. He watched as two men assembled something that resembled a muggle machine gun. Once it was complete, it started firing curses at high speed.

A hand landed on his shoulder and Caleb whirled, his wand at the ready.

"Whoa! Easy there, buddy. You're hurt and I need to check you over," said a man Caleb didn't recognize.

"Who? You're American?" Caleb asked in confusion.

The other man nodded as he cut away the sleeve on Caleb's robe. "Yes, Commander. I'm a healer with the 806th, the Animagi Division," replied the Healer in a proud tone. Caleb grunted and let the man work on him. The 806th was just one of the groups representing the American magical military that had been sent to Haven. They also had men from the 102nd Broomsticks and the 5th Sorcerer Infantry.

"What is that thing?" Caleb asked in confusion, nodding towards the strange curse firing mechanism.

"That? It's a prototype. We only have a few with us. It's a RFCG or Rapid Fire Curse Gun. It's enchanted to fire stunning spells, like your Stupefy. But it's not perfected yet. Once the gun has exhausted it's energy, we have to perform a complicated ritual to recharge it. It's good in forcing your enemy to keep their heads down, however," the healer told him with a chuckle.

The healer frowned and sealed a bad cut along the back of Caleb's head, then he cast an immobilizing charm on his left arm. "You've got a nasty cut on your head and your humerus has been crushed. It will need to be regrown. I'd send you back to the hospital..."

"No, I'm not leaving my men," Caleb said in a cold tone.

"I thought you might feel that way. Drink a sip of this pain killer. It will take the edge off what you're feeling, but leave your mind clear. I expect to see you in the hospital tonight, Commander," the healer said with a shake of his head, then offered him a small vial.

Caleb drank as ordered, then he gathered up his wand and turned back to the battle.

The War Room, Haven Operations Center...

Miles paced the floor of the war room anxiously. It was bad enough that today was their first large scale operation involving forces from four countries, but he wanted to be with his men. To make matters worse, Minister Bones had arrived to watch the ongoing operation. She was joined shortly afterwards by Harry Potter and Remus Lupin, making Miles feel as though his job had become a spectator sport.

The room had been copied from something used by the RAF during World War Two. There was a large map against one wall. Along the other wall were a series of fireplaces, dedicated floo connections to key places. Next to the map was a blackboard, which someone had sectioned into a grid. One section read 'Ours' and had KIA and WIA with zeros next to them.

Harry, Remus and Amelia took up positions on the observation deck, trying to stay out of the way.

A small bell rang and one of the girls in the room moved over to put up a sign, stating that the forces were engaged.

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Harry?" Remus asked for the tenth time that morning.

Harry grunted and shot Remus a glare for a moment before softening it. "I know Miles probably doesn't appreciate us here, Remus, but I don't think I'll get an ounce of work done today. I'm not here to tell Miles what to do, but I want to know what's going on."

"Here, here," murmured Amelia, then she smiled slightly at the two men.

Harry turned to her. "I'm sorry, Minister. I realize this is really more your job than mine..."

"Nonsense, Mr. Potter," Amelia said gruffly. "It was your actions which resulted in making all of this possible," she replied, waving her hand to indicate the room they were in.

Harry leaned forward, scowling as the numbers on the KIA and WIA columns changed to two and twelve. Amelia's expression tightened as well. Remus gripped Harry's arm.

One of the girls walked over to board and wrote in a new category that read 'Captures'. Under it, she wrote forty two.

Miles glanced at the numbers, then up to the observation deck, expecting someone to say something to him. He was surprised when Amelia and Harry had shown up, but was pleased when they did not interfere with the proceedings. He knew how hard it was for them to remain silent.

Armagh, Northern Ireland...

Caleb sat on a large stone and looked up at the sky. The morning mist and rains had cleared away finally and it looked like it might turn out to be a decent day after all. He felt a nudge and he turned to see one of his own team members handing him an open canteen. He gratefully accepted it and drank deeply.

Most of the Death Eaters had been captured or killed. Now his men were mopping up. Several teams had entered the underground complex and were searching it for Death Eaters, as well as anything else of interest. The farm house was a total wash. The building had burned to the ground, along with anyone who might have been inside.

Several men had reported finding caches of dark artifacts and books in the underground complex. Soon, a second team would begin cataloging what they had found.

He winced. The pain potion he had taken two hours earlier was wearing off.

"Caleb?"

He looked up to see one of his men approaching. Caleb waved him over to sit on the rock with him.

"The Irish are starting to move the prisoners out, Caleb," said the man.

"Why do I hear a 'but' in there somewhere," Caleb asked with a frown.

"Well, the numbers don't quite match up. Between the bodies and prisoners, we have roughly one hundred and ten Death Eaters."

Caleb scowled. There should have been more than that. "Are we sure no one escaped?"

The man nodded vigorously. "Yes. The wards would have indicated that. Heck, if someone managed to walk out, the wards would have told us."

Caleb sighed. "Alright, make a note of the discrepancy and send it back to the Ops Center. What is our final count of casualties?"

The man consulted a piece of parchment. "We have a total of five dead and twenty two seriously wounded, including yourself. The rest of the wounded can be easily healed."

"I want our wounded off the field as soon as possible. And make sure we bring home every body. No one gets left behind," Caleb said in a firm voice.

"I'm glad to hear you say that, Commander," said another voice from behind him. Caleb craned his neck around to see who had spoken. He got a brief glimpse of the American Healer who'd tended his injuries when he felt the tug of a portkey behind his navel.

Several of Caleb's men looked shocked for a moment, then they began to laugh. The healer grinned at them.

"You heard the Commander's orders. I don't know about the rest of you, but I have plans tonight that include a lot of beer, my wife and some serious time in the sack," the healer said with a grin. Several men laughed and gave him a thumbs up, while a couple female Aurors grinned at each other. They were having similar thoughts.

The War Room, Haven Operations Center...

Harry couldn't speak for Amelia or Remus, but sitting in the Operations Center unable to do anything was one of the most nerve wracking experiences of his life. It was just before noon when Miles exited the war room and entered the observation deck.

"Minister, our forces are returning from the field. Preliminary reports suggest that we killed or captured over one hundred and ten Death Eaters and recruits. We have twenty two wounded and five killed from our forces," Miles said in a voice laced with exhaustion.

Amelia nodded slowly. Emotionally, the day had been draining on everyone. Harry hated to think how tired the troops must be. After all, they'd done the hard work.

"And the Irish, Miles? How many did they transfer to the prison?" asked Amelia.

"I'm not sure of the exact number, Minister, but the last count I had was that the Irish had sixty seven prisoners, several of whom were badly injured. The number is bound to change. I don't expect anyone to start any serious interrogations for at least two days. Right now, everyone is just trying to recover. I am pleased and proud of the job our boys did today."

Amelia nodded in agreement. "Yes, they did an excellent job and are to be commended. The same can be said for you, as well, Miles. You trained these men to work as a group."

Miles smiled thinly and nodded. "With your permission, Minister, I'll be off now. I want to visit the hospital."

Miles paused at the door and turned back to Harry. "Now we'll be able to consider your idea, Harry."

Harry's eyes lit up and he gave Miles a feral smile. "I'll look forward to that one, Miles."

Miles nodded and left the room. Both Amelia and Remus turned to Harry with inquisitive looks.

"Harry? What idea?" asked Remus.

Harry looked Remus as if distracted. "Hmmm? Oh, Miles suggested a while back that we start hitting back at Voldemort. I suggested we stage a breakout of Azkaban."

"Azkaban!" Remus exclaimed. Amelia grabbed the railing in front of her and paled.

"Think about it, Remus. If we could stage a breakout at Azkaban it would be a huge blow to Voldemort and his ego. But it wouldn't just affect old Dark and Lipless. By breaking into his most secure prison, the world would sit up and realize that the Voldemort is nothing more than a two bit thug and not some invincible monster," Harry said earnestly.

Remus held up his hands. "Wait a second, Harry, slow down. You can't be thinking about just staging a raid on Azkaban."

Harry smirked at the older man. "No, I'm not that dumb, Remus. Miles and I have talked about this a few times. We need to plan this, scout out the area, figure out who we're up against. I'm not repeating my impetuous rush into the Department of Mysteries."

Remus nodded and both he and Amelia breathed a sigh of relief.

Haven, that evening...

While most of the details of the operation were still secret, the news that the Aurors had carried out a very successful attack resulted in the entire town turning into one giant block party. The Ministry offices closed early and most of the people congregated around the town square, where several bands set up and began playing music. Tables were conjured, food brought out and drinks flowed freely.

Fred and George Weasley had shut down their workshop early, sending everyone out to the party. They were patient enough to know that eventually they'd be hearing just how well some of their inventions worked, or didn't, in the field.

For now, they were content. They sat at the extra large table used by the Johansens, while Olga bustled around, making sure everyone had enough to eat.

Harry's arrival at their table surprised the Johansens greatly. He walked up, holding Hermione's hand, and smiling at the many children. He wore a t-shirt that sent both sets of twins into fits of laughter. It read "Hey Voldemort! Stupidity is not a handicap! Park elsewhere!"

"It's Harry Pooter!" squealed little Linda, the three year old.

Olga and Sven both smiled and waved the couple closer.

"Mr. Potter and his pretty Miss, come sit!" shouted Sven over the noise of the crowd.

Harry shook his head and looked regretful for a moment. "I'd like to, Sven, but we can't tonight. I just wanted to stop by and tell Fred, George, Inga and Helga that their hard work paid off and probably saved lives today. Well done, you four!"

When Sven nodded, looking a little disappointed, Harry smiled. "We'll try to get out to see you this weekend, Sven. I wanted to talk to you about the farm anyway," he said, offering an apologetic smile.

Sven nodded his understanding, then turned away as one of the children pulled at his shirtsleeve.

Olga stepped up to Hermione and offered her a large plate of Strudel, then she slipped something into the pocket of the young woman's dress.

As they walked away, Harry nibbled on the Strudel, while Hermione read the note Olga had slipped her. As she did, she blushed deeply.

"So? Are you going to share with me the secret that Mrs. Johansen gave you?" asked Harry, playfully.

"It's... well...," Hermione sighed heavily. "Well if you must know, she gave me her recipe for Strudel and says every bride should know how to feed her man."

Harry blinked in surprise, then stopped. "You know, I don't think I've ever eaten anything you've cooked before."

Hermione laughed weakly and looked at her feet, then she blurted out. "If I can make polyjuice potion, I should be able to cook meals... Don't you think?" she asked weakly.

Harry wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Oh, absolutely. So long as you avoid the cat hair." When she slapped his arm playfully, he tightened his hold on her. "Besides, if you can't cook, I can."

Author's Notes:

If you've read our other stories you know that our battle scenes, and especially our final battle scenes, take more than a paragraph or two and that we tend to wallow in blood and gore. We're not generally violent, but we like to put our readers into the battle, so we take care with our details.

We have a lot of things to cover and a lot of places to go in this story. We're mostly finished with the set up sequences, and should be pushing the story forward now as far as the plans to take back mainland Britain. There will still be fluffy moments, but the pace should start to pick up.

All cliffhanger related threats will be forwarded to Bob, as they are his fault! :D

Just for clarification. Dumbledore was not actually IN Haven. During the battle, he was outside the wards, hiding in the trees and trying to figure out what was going on. However, I can tell you, since you should realize it by now, that the wards won't affect old Albus, as he hasn't killed anyone other than a Dark Lord. No matter what Harry and the others think, the old man hasn't actually "gone evil" enough for the wards to hurt him...yet!

As requested, no harm has come to Tonks :D

A reviewer wrote: "next they'll be too powerful and regardless of who wins they'll turn a good portion of the earth uninhabitable and the rest submerged!!" HEY BOB! Did you see this? What a great idea! ~Cackles madly~

We're sorry! Did we forget to introduce Amy? How rude of us. Readers, meet Amy, a young witch working for Q Branch. She helps the twins in testing their products and such. ~Shines a light down the hole Amy is currently residing in~ Wave to the nice folks, Amy. We'll see to it that you're out of there soon.

Yes, Bob realizes that he misspelled "Chapter" in the last update. He would have fixed it, but it would have changed the URL for the file, and we didn't want to do that. That was our excuse. However, now that we've read the reviews, we've come up with a new one. It was actually a form of Elvish, and everyone should really brush up on the language, as we're sure it will probably happen again (Thanks to Kevin, who came up with the Elvish idea!).

Someone's dared us to work our AK Enema into the story. As dares can be so hard to resist, we will point out that, for those of you who may run across a scene employing such a spell and get grossed out by it, you may pummel John for it. You can read is his review yourself, folks, so don't blame us! ~Snickers~

As for the mention of rape and other such horrible things, I want to put a reminder in right now. This story, for all its twists, turns and light hearted moments, is a dark tale. War is ugly, brutal and frightening. If that sort of thing disturbs you, either skip those scenes or please stop reading. We won't be offended if you do. While we try not to upset our readers too much, some things are necessary.

Harry's leg: Not going to be fixed, end of story. He has no animagus abilities, and won't in this story. Every powerful man (or woman) has at least one weakness. This is Harry's. If it bothers you that much, you know where the exit is.

Ah yes, Charlie. The Weasley family will deal with him soon enough. Right now, everyone is a little busy with other duties, and only one realizes that there's something a bit off about the lad.

Sirya: We don't mind people borrowing our ideas, and since you credited us in the disclaimer, we have no problems with it and are, in fact, flattered. Of course, naming your first born child after us is always a good way of thanking us. :p

Molly is dead, folks. She was in the Burrow when it burned down, and her ashes were scattered in the wreckage.

Several people seem to think that Snape would kill himself rather than brew those sickening potions for Voldemort. While many understand that Snape, in our story (as well as canon and many fanfics), is an ass, what you need to understand is, beneath everything else, Snape is a coward. What does he want? To survive the war. He never bought into the "savior of the wizarding world" stuff about Harry, as his own hatred of James was too powerful. Now, as a prisoner of Voldemort, he'll do whatever it takes to survive.

James: Bob and I thank you for Charlie's list about Dumbledore. It's very amusing, folks. Go read his review (page one of the reviews for Chapter 7).

To the reviewer offering us cupcakes: You are evil, and must be destroyed. Now discover a way of sending them through the modem, or we will try out the AK Enema on you. Don't make us do it!

As for the Updateless list, yes, Bob knows he's actually recommending them. They're good stories, other than the fact that they've become orphans. But he's also warning folks that they're not completed, and stand a good chance of never being so.

Is Voldemort going to drain Dumbledore in the ritual? While we won't give you a specific answer, we will tell you that Harry would never forgive us if we denied him his chance at the old man.

That's it folks. The Updateless list is next. On a personal note, I just wanted to apologize for the lateness of this chapter (and possibly the next). Those members of our Yahoo group know that I was bitten by a Hobo spider and it wasn't a dry bite. As a result, I have a very painful open wound on my leg. The doctor's put me on antibiotics, but it's going to take time to heal. As such, my writing and editing takes longer.

We hope you enjoyed the chapter!

~Bob and Alyx~

Updateless List!!

Last Chapter we featured Harry Potter and the Mind Mage. Several people told us that the author had continued the story elsewhere. Thats wonderful, but we'll ding the author for not removing it from Fanfiction.net. If you're going to abandon a story, or leave it unfinished somewhere. Then delete it from that system!

Additionally several have complained that we haven't put Jeconais into the list because of his very popular 'This Means War' which hasn't seen an update in a long long time. One person even had the gall to claim we didn't put him on the list because he hosts our stories. Not true.

Let's clarify the rules for the Updateless list.

AN AUTHOR WILL MAKE THE LIST IF HE/SHE HAS (A) AN INCOMPLETE STORY AND (B) HAS PUBLISHED NOTHING FOR THE LAST SIXTY DAYS.

As a courtesy we check profiles of the authors to make sure they haven't done something silly, like getting themselves sent on an all expense paid vacation to that mideast hotspot, Iraq. Those people are exempt for obvious reasons.

Also, we're pleased to note that 'The Father' has been updated and is no longer on the Updateless list. But we're keeping an eye on the author and watching him. (Evil Glare) We're also pleased to note that others have trembled before the power of the Updateless list and resorted to updating their stories. Kudos to Olafr for an update, you just missed it last time and would have been my victim this chapter.

This chapter's contribution.

"When Nightmares are a good thing."

http://www.fanfiction.net/s/1763965/1/

This is a wonderful story, delightfully angsty and hasn't seen a decent update in a while.

Back to:: Harry Potter » Sunrise Over Britain

Sunrise Over Britain
Chapter 8 - Score one for the good guys

By Bobmin

Sunrise Over Britain Chapter 8 - Score one for the good guys

By Bobmin

Sunrise Over Britain
Chapter 8 - Score one for the good guys