Sunday 22 February 1998

"Good morning. I apologise for summoning you in this manner, but there is a rather urgent matter I wish to discuss with you," said the British Minister of Magic.

"Why me?" Harry asked.

"For two reasons. Firstly, I believe the matter has already affected your friends personally. Secondly, the people of this country whose support I need still remember what you did for them," Scrimgeour said.

"You're going to try to use my husband to gain support again? Well, that's not going to happen." Susan said.

Though Harry agreed, he still wanted to hear what the Minister was talking about. It might have something to do with what had happened last night, but what could that have to do with the wizarding community as a whole?

"What's so important that you need to speak with me personally?" Harry asked.

"I heard of what happened last night. Our intelligence shows that the men fighting alongside the Death Eaters were French. We have known for some time that after the war, the remaining Death Eaters fled to France where they have been since."

"You're insinuating the French had something to do with the attack?" Harry asked

"The evidence points in that direction," said the Minister.

"And you want me to support you when you officially accuse them?"

"The population trusts you."

Over the bond, Harry could feel Susan trying to warn him. Looking at her, he saw almost no sign of her suspicion. She had, after all, been the sole heir to a pureblood house and was, therefore, well-trained in politics.

"Wouldn't it be better to gather more evidence before openly accusing an entire country for the deeds of a few?" Harry argued.

He was also thinking about what the surviving Frenchman had told them before being taken away. Considering exactly what that implied, he thought it best not to reveal this knowledge.

"I would have said the same were it not for the way the French have been dealing with their resident Death Eaters. They have blatantly refused our requests for extradition," Scrimgeour said.

"What happened to the remaining assailants from last night?" Susan asked.

"They are our captives and currently under interrogation," Scrimgeour answered.

"I would like to speak with them," Harry said.

"The ministry is quite capable of questioning its prisoners, I assure you."

"As you said yourself, this has affected two of our friends quite harshly. I think it would reassure them to know that someone they trusted had a hand in finding out what happened."

"I understand." Scrimgeour looked thoughtful for a second. "Very well, you may speak to one of the survivors. Ms. Lightwood?"

A young woman in her twenties walked into the office.

"Would you please escort Mr and Mrs Potter to speak to prisoner no. 4?"

"Of course. Right this way."

The cell was dark and featureless, not even sporting the classic iron bars. The only light came from a candle hidden in an alcove.

"You have ten minutes," Ms. Lightwood informed them.

The prisoner did not look well. He was barely patched up and had not changed clothes since yesterday.

As soon as the door was closed, they cast a privacy charm.

"What's your name?" Harry asked.

"Bélanger. Josué Bélanger," the captive replied.

"Why did you attack 12 Grimmauld Place yesterday evening?" Harry asked. He was standing directly in front of the man while Susan stood off to the side.

"To kidnap Narcissa Black," Monsieur Bélanger answered. He was considerably better at English than the other Frenchman.

"And why would you do that?" Harry asked.

"To gain leverage over you."

"And you did this of your own accord?"

"Yes," Josué said with slight fear in his eyes.

"We all know that isn't true," Susan said, moving a little closer.

"It is!" the Frenchman insisted.

"We spoke with your friend yesterday, and he gave us a different story. He told us he had only done it to protect his family," Harry said.

"They told me my family and I would be safe if I did as they said!"

"Who are "they"?"

"Didn't see who they were."

"Do you know anything that might help us find out who did this?" Harry asked getting impatient.

The Frenchman only shook his head.

"It's the only chance of helping your family," Susan said gently, sending a warning glance to Harry. Being impatient wasn't going to get them anywhere.

"As I already told you, I do not know who did this," Josué repeated.

"Are you sure there is nothing you can tell us?"

"One second, I was on my way home, the next someone has a wand to my neck, tells me he will stun me and to assist the masked men when I wake up. The next I know I am surrounded by masked men in black robes outside the house."

Harry sighed.

"I don't think we can do much more here," Susan said.

"Me neither," Harry agreed.

On their way out of the Ministry, they were approached by a young woman.

"Hey, how are you doing? It's been a long time," Lavender Brown greeted.

"It has, and your working here full time?" Susan asked.

"I am. It's challenging and hard work, but far more interesting than school," Lavender replied, "I was going to get some lunch. Have you got anything planned?"

"Nothing specific, lunch would be nice. Harry?"

"Sure. It's been some time since we've been in England, might be nice to see things again," Harry answered.

Monday 26 February 1998

She had always enjoyed summer, but at the moment she was happy it was only February. It meant the weather was bearable. A bit on the cold side maybe, but far better than the scorching heat of summer of the Arizona desert.

She was standing with her baby in her arms, surrounded by the tribe of Native American natives she had been living with the past seven months. There was a reason they were in the middle of one of the more inhospitable parts of the desert rather than in their camp half a day's walk from here. They were performing a ritual that would help her son accomplish all she knew he was destined to accomplish. It was old magic that the tribe had guarded for as long as they knew.

They were only using it on him because they thought he was the one prophesized to raise them from the dust. It was one of those vague prophecies that were easily fulfilled by anyone who could control their magic at the age of 1, was a reincarnation of a Dark Lord, and had access to much of said Dark Lord's work.

The ritual was meant to free the ancient magic, and let it be absorbed by the target of the ritual. In order to target the ritual, they would use his wand. She had managed to painstakingly procure it in the chaos following that final battle.

The actual freeing of the magic would not take place for two days, but they were close.

Harry

We heard. it's been all over the news. I see why you would like to talk. Next weekend is not a Hogsmeade weekend, but I managed to get special dispensation from McGonagall. Ron, Hannah, and I'll be in The Three Broomsticks around 2 PM on Saturday.

I found some information on what you asked me about last time we spoke. I think it might interest you.

Look forward to seeing you

Hermione

"She says they'll be in The Three Broomsticks at 2 PM on Saturday," Harry told Susan.

"I look forward to seeing Hannah again; it's been more than half a year," Susan said.

"It'll be nice to hear what's been happening. I just hope it hasn't been as eventful as the other years," Harry said.

"You never did do normal," Susan replied. Remembering where she was, she added with a smile "and still don't."

"True, though it would have been nice to get through even a single year without being in mortal danger."

"It's not too late for that. This year has been safe up till now."

"Don't jinx it. I like it how it is."

"Me too."