Chapter 1: Strangers in the Woods

Harry Potter hated his job sometimes. Days like this, where nothing at all interesting was happening and he was stuck at his desk, filling out paperwork upon paperwork whilst Ron got to train the new recruits and Teddy got to take a squad out Dementor hunting. Why on earth he'd accepted the post of Head Auror, he would never know. Then, just as he was beginning to lose the will to live, he spotted something out of the corner of his eye. It was a glorious sight indeed. Simmons was panicking.

The young man stumbled into Harry's office, all blustery and rattled. He drew breath, trying to compose himself as Harry placed his paperwork calmly to one side and stood up, trying desperately hard not to let his joy show. He knew that whatever it was, it was bad, because Simmons was losing his normally ever present composure. And, he was bothering Harry with it. Which meant Harry might finally see some action. He scolded himself silently. He shouldn't need dark wizards to be on the run. He'd never wanted a life of chasing after dark magic and yet somehow, he had gone beyond participating in one, to enjoying one. He craved the thrill of the fight, something that when he'd been starting out, he'd have thought was impossible. He'd lost so much, experienced so much death and yet here he was, desperate for more. He felt a twinge. What would his parents say?

"Mr Potter," Simmons wheezed. "Harry. We have an emergency. We are picking up some extremely dangerous and unknown readings in The Forest of Dean. We're sending a team out there now but it looks to be some unknown form of powerful dark magic that we don't understand. We were hoping you could lead the team. And take…her with you."

"Her? The expert?" Harry's voice had darkened at this. "You know how I feel about her. She is not to be trusted and I loathe going to her for help. After everything she has done…"

"Begging your pardon sir, but we need her. She's the only one who might be able to decipher this branch of magic. Not even your friend Miss Granger could do it."

"Fine. Get the expert." Harry was annoyed. His day had just been getting good. "We disapparate within the hour. I'll take Jones, Montague and Carster. Have them meet the expert outside the Ministry. And for God's sake, will somebody find Weasley?"

"He's training the new recruits sir," Simmons said, Harry's irritation clearly intimidating him. Harry felt awful, he'd never thought of himself as intimidating before. But then sometimes he needed to be.

"I know where he is, will you bloody well get him. If you think I'm taking HER out into the field without my number two, especially if this is some new branch of dark magic, then you must be off your rocker. Find someone else to cover the training."

Simmons whimpered his apologies and ran off. Harry looked darkly back at his paperwork.

They were all waiting for him outside when he arrived. Ron was looking both confused and angry, shooting glances at their companion as Harry walked up to them.

"What the hell is she doing here?" he growled, keeping his wand close to his chest.

"I don't like it any more than you do," Harry muttered. "But we're dealing a type of magic we've not seen before and it could be very dark and very dangerous. So we'll need her, she's spent the years since the war making herself crucial to the Ministry. She's our best hope, so keep a close eye on her." He whispered the last sentence so that only Ron could hear.

"Believe me Weasley, helping the likes of you is most definitely below me," the woman snarled. "I was once appointed by the Ministry to look after you brats and you defiled me."

"Oh shut up Umbridge," Harry snapped. "This is my mission, so you'll follow my command, and any order given by Ron, unless you want a report written about your conduct and endangering a potentially volatile and top level mission. I doubt you'd last long at the Ministry with that kind of black mark on your record. And you can forget about the retirement fund. So play nice, or I'll be forced to report you."

Umbridge shut her mouth, but the look she shot Harry was more venomous than any words he could think of. He smiled back at her as politely as he could muster, his right hand curling into a fist so that the scar with his scrawled handwriting "I will not tell lies" on top of it was plainly visible to her. He had wanted sufficient revenge for a long time, but he felt that it would never arrive.

Harry nodded and the team span on the spot, their bodies whirling into the vortex of the world and reappearing just outside the Forest of Dean. Harry nodded at Carster and Jones, who flanked them, Carster moving ahead to their left and Jones to their right. Montague hung back as Harry moved forward, with Ron and Umbridge side-by-side two steps behind him. They were getting close to the source of the disturbance and Harry felt a twitch in his skull as they entered the trees. His hand shot out of instinct to the lightning bolt that was carved into the skin of his forehead but that wasn't the source, he realised, as the others seemed to have noticed it to. It was like a shot of energy had passed through them, an energy Harry had never felt before. There were footsteps ahead of them and he halted the party with a raise of his hand.

"Wait here," he muttered and proceeded further into the forest, the footsteps getting louder. He entered a clearing, his wand raised and pointed in the direction of the footsteps. He was breathing quickly, but he had never felt calmer. This was what he lived for. The thrill of the battle, the excitement of knowing that literally anything or anyone could come out of the trees. Then, something did. A girl stumbled into the clearing, barely able to keep her balance, looking distraught and exhausted. She fell forward and Harry reached out to catch her. She was only a short thing, maybe the same age as Harry's daughter Lily, who was five years out of Hogwarts. She was pretty too, with shoulder length chocolate brown hair and a plain red dress covered in a jacket. Her eyes were shut but as he caught her, she was muttering something under her breath. It sounded like she was asking to see a doctor. Harry couldn't blame her, she looked positively ill. He guessed she was a muggle, because she had no wand that he could see. She was probably just caught in the crossfire. But even so, Harry wasn't sure he could trust her.

"Come here!" he yelled as his party converged on the clearing. "Montague take this girl to St Mungo's. Jones, Carster, we move forward to find the source. Ron, stay here with Umbridge."

They all nodded. Montague picked up the girl and carried her back where they came from, whilst Harry moved on, Jones to his left and Carster his right. He was more apprehensive than ever and could feel the tension ramping up. Or maybe that was the strange sensation that was in his head. He didn't like being this close to dark magic, it made his skin curl.

"Harry! Sir! You're not going to believe this! Come here!"

It was Carster's voice, off to his right somewhere and Harry turned and ran towards it, wand still raised. He came to where Carster had been stood and there was a small clearing. The reason for Carster's calling was immediately obvious and Harry's jaw dropped.

"Good God…"

Lily Luna Potter was enjoying a pleasant and relaxing day. She had had a long, nice sleep and had woken at noon with nothing planned for the day. Her boyfriend Lorcan was away, somewhere in France she reckoned, with his job. She hated that he could sometimes be away for days, occasionally weeks at a time but it made him happy and he made her happy. That was good enough for Lily. She had had a simple breakfast and was now strolling around the garden, tending to the flowers. Lily loved gardening. She loved the simple pleasure it brought. Bringing life to hundreds of things at a time, even if they were only flowers, brought her joy. And the colours they would produce when they grew would be magnificent. Vibrant reds and yellows, perfectly complimented by the low-level lilacs and violets in interspersing patterns across her large garden. She pulled a face as she stabbed a weed with her trowel. She wondered if she picked up gardening from her grandmother. She didn't know much about her grandmother, as almost everyone who had been close to her was now dead. They all died in the wars against Voldemort. Her father knew as little as anyone and at times she could tell how much that upset him. Still, the photo album he'd shown her had a picture of Lily Potter gardening, so Lily liked to think that in her head, her grandmother was a gardener like her. A gnome appeared out of the corner of her eye and she blasted it with her wand. The poor thing flew miles over the garden wall and out of sight. Lily giggled despite herself and returned to tending to her violets.

She was just stopping for a glass of lemonade when she heard it. The wheezing. A great, wheezing sound, like the world was going to fall on top of her. It sounded like some sort of machine but for the life of her, she couldn't figure out what. Then, the wheezing began to die down, but before it stopped completely, there was another sound, a man. He was yelling tremendously, followed by a rather loud thud. She ran out into the garden and looked to the sky, but there was nothing to see. There wasn't a cloud in the sky, nor any birds, except one in the distance, diving down to presumably catch some food.

It was what was in her garden that was truly interesting. She gasped as she ran over to her hedgerow, which had been completely flattened by what appeared to be the yelling man. He must have fallen from the sky. Lily looked around for his broom but there didn't appear to be one. Maybe that was the thing she had assumed was a bird, his broom zig-zagging off into the distance. Made sense. Or maybe he'd apparated into the sky, or arrived via faulty portkey. Both also plausible. Lily approached with caution, trying to get a better look at the man who was lying face down in her hedge. He was quite tall, with long flailing legs. He was wearing a white shirt and a grey waistcoat. His hair was a lot like her dad's, all over the place although it was longer and floppier. There was something in his left hand, it might've been a wand of some sort but it seemed peculiarly short and coloured.

"Hello?" she asked quietly, a tight grip on her wand. "Are you alright?"

The man leapt up, looking around in shock as though he had just realised where he was. Or rather, didn't realise where he was. He flailed his wand thing around and Lily jumped back, pointing her wand at him with a sense of alarm.

"Clara!?" The man yelled. He had one hell of a chin on him and she noted that he was wearing a bow tie. "Where's Clara? Have you seen Clara? I need to find Clara. I need to save Clara!"

He staggered forwards and dropped the wand thing, grabbing out for something to stabilise him. Lily clutched him carefully as he gazed at her, his eyes struggling to focus and stay open.

"Clara!" he muttered once more, before passing out in her arms.