A/N: Love to Countess Black and reviewers

Something incredibly dodgy happens this chapter. Like seriously, upsettingly dodgy. On the one hand, it probably really is the best chance the family has, and they've made provisions to make sure that the safety of vulnerable members is the number one priority. (And no one seemed very concerned in canon about the situation).

On the other hand, as someone who used to work with the vulnerable population mentioned, this strikes me as absolutely terrible for a lot of reasons.

So, to be clear: I DO NOT approve of this course of action at a personal level. HOWEVER, it likely is the best course IN THIS SPECIFIC, FICTIONAL CONTEXT, and like Snape said, cruel times call for cruel men.

Obviously, any real life concerns should be reported immediately to the proper authorities.

Madea's Rage

The three former aurors (well, two aurors and a former trainee) gathered in the library of Grimmauld Place with Edric playing happily on the floor and Zdratza the elf following him, crooning in Bulgarian, to which he now responded as readily and enthusiastically as English. His first word had in fact been "ne" or no in Bulgarian.

Desmond-Moody pecked the baby's plump cheek and set him down on the rug. 'He's got your chin, Gennie.'

'Rabastan says so. I says he looks more like Mother.' She meant her own dear mother and Desmond-Moody, who'd met Emmeline's mother a few times, squinted to see the resemblance.

'A bit, I suppose. Rabastan's eyes, though.'

Sirius scooped the baby up as he crawled by and tossed him, giggling, into the air. Edric flailed with delight.

'He's good and heavy, too.'

Eugenia smiled. 'Isn't he? Now, theories so far?' She would have the elf take Edric as soon as things got serious, but for now it was good to soak up his presence and the affection the others plainly had for him.

They looked up as Snape came in and sat down with them, stopping to gently disentangle the baby's fist from his trouser leg. 'Good afternoon, all.'

'Snape.'

'Cousin Severus.'

'Snape.'

Snape pulled out a tiny package from inside his waistcoat and enlarged it. A large sheath of papers split forth. Sirius grabbed one and turned it over in his hand.

And dropped it just as quickly. 'God!' He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hand.

Snape smiled thinly. 'And that, Black, is why we don't grab things we haven't asked about. They might be covered in runes of an especially sanity-blasting nature.'

Eugenia darted her eyes toward the paper. 'Should I ask?'

Snape handed her a pair of wire rimmed spectacles, the lenses smoked to a deep grey by charms that would protect her sanity and her eyes. She slipped them on and studied the runes. Her stomach turned, skin prickling.

'Zdratza, remove Edric at once, please.' The elf did, and Eugenia kept reading, translating as she went.

'What part of it is this?'

'After the murder. These are sigils that lock the piece of soul into the item.'

She nodded and set it down, queasy. 'That's disgusting. How could he stand to...'

'Multiple times, if Malfoy is correct. Assuming the diary is, and the locket absolutely is, then that's two we know of and possibly more we don't.'

'It is even possible to do it more times than that? I thought one was nearly impossible and two would be...'

'Apparently what he did.' Snape donned his own pair of spectacles and picked up a second document.

'How do we find the others?'

Snape spread his hands. 'I would be glad to take suggestions on that front.'

The group fell to pondering, until Desmond-Moody, picking his thumbnail speculatively, said 'What about Slughorn?'

'Horace Slughorn?'

'Who else? He-You Know Who- was a member, wasn't he, of the Slug Club?'

The others looked at him blankly. 'Was he?'

'Moody-Feathering nodded slowly. 'I'm sure a person like that would have appealed to Horace's lust for fame. We could always find him and see what he knows.'

Snape was mulling this over. 'Possibly, but the odds he'll talk to us are fairly slim.'

'What about the children? He always did like collecting rare specimens. Three teenage war heroes would be right up his alley.'

Eugenia's stomach slid greasily. She considered herself to be a live and let live sort (and had always voted liberal democrat in the muggle elections), but Slughorn had always given her the creeps, and the auror's training Emmeline had about that sort of thing had made her understand why.

'You think that's a good idea?'

'No' said Desmond-Moody flatly 'but so long as one of us is nearby, it ought to be fine.'

'I'll do it. Hermione would need a chaperone anyhow.'

'Her elf.'

'I'll insist on staying in person, and she won't say no. It's not her I'm worried about.'

The men nodded in understanding. 'You'll make it happen, once he's found?'

'Of course I will. The question is going to be whether he'll let himself be found at all.'

Sirius grinned, eyes gleaming. 'Leave that to me, darling.' So they did, and in less than two days' time, he'd found the man they needed.

Moody-Feathering was deputed to inform the children about the plan. He found them sitting in a parlour, cheerily playing gobstones and chatting about nothing in particular.

He lowered himself into a chair and relaxed for a moment. He had to admit, after two years he was seeing them less and less as incipient Death Eaters and more as nephews and a niece. He didn't quite know how he felt about that.

He decided this couldn't wait. 'We've a plan, but it needs for your help.'

All three faced him, alert as owls, as he spelt out what was happening. There was a silence, and then Viktor said, very slowly 'This man... likes...children.'

The word was hovering behind all their lips, but to say it would be to invite the whole ugly truth into the room, that they were inviting someone like that freely into their midst.

'There's never been any proof, but yes, that's the concern.'

'And ve need him to finish this.'

'Probably.'

'How can ve make sure he von't hurt somevon? Drago and I are too old, but Anu and Ivan and Yana are not.'

Moody-Feathering felt disgusted with himself for approving of this. 'Not Yana, if that's any help. And Ivan is probably a little young.'

It was no help at all. The room was leaden. Moody-Feathering's stomach was boiling with acid and the sense he'd betrayed them by agreeing to this.

'He worked for decades at Hogwarts. There was never an...a proven incident.'

'If there wasn't' said Hermione, eyes boring into his 'then why is everyone worried?'

'Because it's good to be careful.'

The three seemed to be communing amongst themselves. 'Is there no other way?'

'It's possible he knows nothing. In that case, we might well find a way to get rid of him. A sinecure someplace, some minimal thing like that.'

Hermione flexed her numb hand. 'I don't like this.'

The two boys nodded. 'Herm-on-nee-knee is vright. Ve cannot vrisk the children that vay.'

'This could be our only hope.'

'There has to be a way to make this work.' Draco was staring into the middle distance, clearly pondering. He tugged the collars of his robes a bit, and then rose to pace.

'What if we asked him to Sofia to teach English? We've any number of people who could learn, and they could make sure nothing untoward happens.'

Hermione was still frowning. 'I don't know. I still feel like we've some very vulnerable people about us.'

Viktor nodded but seemed to be considering. 'Then ve ask them to help us. I vill talk to Anu-unless you vant to do it, Uncle-and ask him to vatch. Maybe Snape could convince ' he made a gesture to indicate he meant the Dark Lord-'that his man is spying on us. Yes?'

'That could work.' Draco stopped pacing and sat back down. Hermione, still flexing, sighed, signalling her assent.

'All right, but the first untoward thing this man does...' She looked meaningfully at them and both boys nodded.

'I vill take of it, Herm-on-nee-knee.'

'No.' She smiled at him. 'I will.'

Moody-Feathering suppressed a shiver. He had no doubt she could do it, whatever "it" happened to be. The boys, too, nodded respectfully. It would be very interesting, decided Moody-Feathering, to watch the girl to see how she was at thirty. Or even twenty, given the rate things were going. He stood up and went to find Snape, to tell him the plan was moving ahead.

Later that night, Snape found himself in a tumble-down shack in a remote part of Yorkshire. He raised his wand and simply blasted his way in. He heard shouting and Mippy's reedy little voice, and stepped into the hut as calmly as he could, robes swishing.

'Good evening, Professor.'

'S-Severus! Severus Snape! Have you been sent to kill me? Oh, please don't kill me! I've told them, told them I don't-oh!' He slumped, feigning unconsciousness, and Snape, not without a degree of malicious pleasure, promptly shot a jet of ice water from the end of his wand, soaking the old man.

He sat up, sputtering, and Snape bent closer. 'The Dark Lord has need of your talents, Horace. I would seriously consider hearing out his proposal.' He snapped his fingers and Mippy hauled the fellow to his feet.

The Dark Lord allowed them into his presence at once. Sitting in state in Dumbledore's former quarters, he smiled, rising on coltish legs to greet his guests. Snape, with many years of experience in adolescents, guessed that he was due for a growth spurt soon. He bowed, and Slughorn, face white as chalk, squeaked and lowered his bulk a bit.

'Ah, Professor Slughorn, how good to see you, finally. We have often reflected on Our time in your class.'

'Ahh...ahhh...'

'Severus, you look wan to Us. Have you been eating?'

Snape wondered for a split second whether the girl had someone got to the Dark Lord, or else, God forbid, Madam Black had. That was insane, but it occurred to him all the same.

'A touch of the flu, my lord.'

'See you take something for it. Please, gentlemen, sit down.'

Snape knew what the Dark Lord was going to tell Slughorn, because ninety percent of it was his idea. '"It would behove your lordship to know what was going on in Bulgaria, after all. If it's nothing, then your lordship's given them quite a boon in Slughorn. He is an excellent teacher, after all.'

'Yes' agreed the Dark Lord with a strange look on his face. 'A very good teacher.'

The Dark Lord pontificated at length before he came to the point, but when he did Slughorn agreed at once.

'We are relying on you, Horace. You mustn't let Us down.'

'No, my lord.'

'That will be all, then. Severus, stay.'

Snape sat at the indicated place. He wanted to be shut of this place; the Dark Lord had lately grown more grandiose and volatile, and that scared him.

'It was an excellent idea, Severus, sending Slughorn to the Bulgarian. Do you suppose they're fomenting revolt against Us?'

'No, my lord. The boy himself is unambitious and easily led.'

'We thought the girl might be the problem.'

Snape shook his head rapidly. 'I would be surprised, my lord. Madam Krum has always been an exemplary servant to yourself.'

'I suppose. But later...?'

'They are very young, my lord. A little guidance from your lordship would not o amiss.'

'Have the children read Our books?'

'The Letters, my lord. It was how Madam Krum taught him to read English.'

The Dark Lord's face split into Potter's wide, slightly crooked smile. Lily's eyes were glowing with pleasure. 'How droll. We shall send them the most recent editions of Our biography.'

'That would surely help. And if there is nothing to fear, than Slughorn will simply work on teaching the family English.'

'That would hardly go amiss. Those accents are absurd. But you know, Severus, I do see Achilles in that girl sometimes. More his dear wife, but definitely Achilles. How is Rabastan's baby?'

'Healthy and sleek, my lord.'

'Bright, would you say?'

'I believe so. And magical, I'm told.'

The Dark Lord smiled again. 'Good. Very good. We are relying on you as well, Severus. Guide the children for Us.'

'I will do whatever I might, my lord.'

'We've every faith in you. Send in Gibbon, please. Our head is pounding.' The Dark Lord waved him out, and Snape went, relieved and appalled at what they had to do to finish this farce. The memory of Lily's eyes burnt him for a long time as he walked the corridors like the ghost of himself.

The next morning, Draco would have understood perfectly. He was at Grimmauld Place with the other two, and Anu, listening to his aunt lecturing them about Legilimency. Anu was squirming a little, clearly wanting to be elsewhere.

'And you'll all practice what we've discussed?'

They all agreed they would. Aunt Trixie nodded and they rose, to go tend other gardens. Hermione was clearly eager to begin practicing right away, nearly vibrating with excitement.

'Practice with me, Viktor?'

He nodded and they headed for a smaller parlour, speaking animatedly in Bulgarian. Draco wished he and Vaike had a common language, and decided with a sigh to see about learning Estonian. He wasn't very good at languages, but he supposed speaking through translation charms forever might be no fun. His aunt was fixing him with a gimlety look of dissatisfaction.

'Aunt Trixie?'

'Why don't you ever go and have fun? All of you, always working. It's not natural. Girl! Hermione!'

Hermione poked her head in, cheeks rosy. Draco decided to tease Viktor about what had clearly been more kissing than practicing when he had a chance.

'Yes, Mother?'

'You and the boys-boys-go and do something fun. Go shopping, or run outside, or...something. I don't know, whatever young people do! Narcissa!'

Mother walked in from the dining room, where she'd been having her usual snack of a cucumber sandwich and milk. 'Trixie?'

'What do young people do?'

'Sorry?'

'The children are too serious. What do young people do when they aren't ruling countries and such?'

Mother kept a straight face, somehow. 'I suppose they have fun amongst themselves. Perhaps a bit of dancing, or a promenade somewhere?'

'I suppose.' Aunt Trixie glowered. 'Girl, what would you like to do?'

Hermione grinned. 'We could explore the attic a bit.'

'No, no, no! No more grubbing about dirty places. Something healthful. Narcissa, we're taking the children to the sea today. Do you know a place?'

Mother nodded. 'There's cousin Briseis's cottage. That's right on the sea shore.'

'Fine, we'll go there. Girl, would you have that elf pack us some food? And have you got a bathing costume?'

Hermione bent closer to her mother. 'What do witches swim in, Mother?'

Her mother looked to the side. 'I'm sure the elf will find you something. Cissy, you bring yours as well, we're all going to bathe in the sea.'

'Should we ask Aunt Gennie and Aunt Hetty to come? And Aunt Cunegarde?'

'That might be good for Hetty, Bellatrix. The water will help her feel a bit better.'

Aunt Hetty, Draco knew, was going to have a baby in February or March. That made him smile, and it would be nice to have a playmate for Edric. He and Vaike could take the babies for walks and to splash in the lake at Durmstrang.

The ladies both accepted, and so an hour later the company set off in a carriage, with Bess for protection. Viktor and Hermione spent most of the trip playing with Edric, teaching him a counting game.

Anu was thoughtful, watching England fly by. 'Nene will never believe I've swam in the sea, you know.'

'She will. Hadn't you ever seen it before a few days ago?'

'No. Well, a little when I flew to Tirana the first time.'

'Flew to Tirana?'

'When Nene wanted to send me to school. We sold a goat and took the mail coach to Tirana. It flew over the coast so we saw the sea a bit. There were muggle ships as big as a hundred coaches.'

Draco had never heard that story. 'Then what happened?'

'We went to the Ministry. Nene talked to a man. She convinced him to send me to Durmstrang since I couldn't go to the village school.'

'Why not?'

'It was burnt. The madrassa, too, so I had to leave home.'

'It was brave of your mother to go and talk to that man.'

'It was, too. She got him to pay for me to go, even. Albania has money for that.'

'Shall we take a picture to send her?'

'Could we?'

'It could be arranged, I'm sure.' Draco joined Tamm in watching England sailing by. The escort of aurors was discreet, as much spies as bodyguards. They touched down on a beautiful, pristine beach and watched the elf set up their umbrellas, and went to take a look round the cabin.

English wizards and witches typically did not swim. Draco, for instance, had had to learn from scratch his first year at Durmstrang. Witches swam even less than wizards, but they did sometimes bathe in the shallows of the sea, as salt water was held to be a near panacea for many ailments.

The ladies changed into bathing gowns, long linen shifts thought to be appropriate to the activity, and charmed to stay opaque when wet. Laughing, they ventured into the shallows and splashed about, chatting with one another. Even Cunegarde allowed herself to be pushed into the shallows and doused in the healing sea water.

The boys had no such reticence, and, finding a spot a bit away, stripped to their smalls and changed into bathing costumes, diving into the surf. All three were extremely proficient swimmers, and soon paddling happily in the water, with Bess joining them, snapping at the waves, tail wagging.

Draco was startled when his cousin swam over, head looking otter sleek from the water. None of them had any idea Hermione could even swim. She flanked Viktor and smiled, treading water.

'Swim with me?'

'I vould like that. Drago, Anu, you vill stay and vatch the ladies?'

'Of course. Anu, stay close, please.' Anu obediently swam closer, and stood on his head under the water, bare feet kicking happily in the warm air.

Draco floated on his back, basking in the salty water and the sheer joy of having fun again. When Mother went and sat under the umbrella, he joined her, giving stern orders that Anu should stay in sight.

Mother was letting her hair dry in the breeze. Draco hadn't seen it loose very often, and thought it very pretty flashing in the sun. When she saw him, she motioned for the elf to pin it up again-it would hardly be appropriate for one of the other lads to see her unbound.

'Draco? Something wrong, darling?'

'Just wanted to see how you are, Mother.' Draco sat down, drying his own hair with a towel his valet handed him. The air smelt of warm, salty water and the mouth-watering scent of lunch.

Draco settled back against the umbrella. 'It's nice here.'

'It was my cousin three time's removed's summer get away. When you marry, Draco, I'll give it to you as a honeymoon gift.'

'I'd like that. Vaike too, I think.' He thought about how it would be to be married and staying here, playing in the water, inviting the family for day trips, teaching Edric and Aunt Hetty's baby to swim.

'Knut for your thoughts, love?'

Draco raked his hand through his hair and looked at the aurors, stationed a hundred metres away, nearly hidden from sight. Mother nodded slowly, understanding what he meant at once.

'If there was ever anything I might do, Mother, to help you and Father, you'd tell me, wouldn't you?'

Mother reached up to cup his cheek, warm from the sun. 'Of course, love. And you as well?'

'Yes.' Draco wanted to ask her so many things. The awful things the Dark Lord had said were still ringing in his ears, and so, unable to think of what else to do, he called his valet.

'I'm going to lie down as though I've a headache. I want you to Silence Mother and I whilst making it look as though you're doing something else. Do you understand?'

The elf nodded and did just that. Draco stretched out. He still didn't much like the sea shore, but a nap in the shade would be rather pleasant. He laid down with his head in his mother's lap, as though he felt poorly.

'Mother, during that lunch...'

'I know. Your aunt mentioned some things Hermione told her about.'

'I'm sorry. I couldn't make it stop.'

'No, you couldn't, darling. No one blames you, least of all me. A person's opinions are worth exactly as much as they show themselves to be.'

He nodded. Mother was gently smoothing his hair and he shut his eyes, relaxing. It had been a good idea to do this, he thought. They needed a bit of play.

'You know, Draco, your sister's birthday was last month. Sixteen May.'

'I gave offerings, Mother. She would have been eight, is that right?'

'Yes. I miss Drusilla every day.'

Draco nodded. He was deeply sorry his sister had not lived, and whilst he didn't feel it as keenly as his mother (and Father?) did, he wanted to support their grief as well as he was able.

'I'm sorry, Mother.'

'It was for the best, perhaps. I believe...Father and I believe...that your sister is caring for us. Do you think so?'

Draco swallowed. 'On that march through the mountains, I saw Grandfather.'

'Did you?'

'He told me not to follow him. I argued.'

Mother smiled a little. 'That doesn't surprise me.'

'He had come for the baby. His name was Spas.'

'His mother is surely comforted, knowing you were with him at the end, Draco.'

'Viktor said that too.'

'It's true.'

'I didn't want to let him go, Mother. I didn't know he was...'

'It's all right, Draco. What happened then?'

'They put me to bed. The next thing I really remember is being in England.'

Mother murmured. 'That was a very hard night, wasn't it?'

'Barty came in, you know.'

'Came in?'

'I was having a bad dream and he came in and sat with me after I woke up.'

Mother smiled sadly. 'When Barty was young, he was a very sweet young man. It kills us all to see him like he is now.'

'He's not unhappy, Mother.'

'No, and that's part of what hurts so.'

Draco wondered what to say to that. Fortunately, Mother spared him the trouble. 'Father and I were talking about your sister right before the second battle at Castle Dinev. I told him that it comforted me to think she was spared being used the way other of our children have.'

Draco nodded, watching as the ladies waded delicately, sometimes bringing Aunt Cunegarde cups of sea water to pour on herself to help her joints. She was glowering in a fashion that indicated she was well pleased by events.

'It doesn't feel real to me now.'

'What doesn't, sweetheart?'

'This. Sometimes I'm afraid it's a hallucination and I'm dying of fever on the march through the Rhodopes.'

'Oh, Draco.'

'Mother? Do you ever dream of it?'

'Dream of what happened?'

'Yes. I do.'

'Well, no, I never have. What do you dream?'

Draco shivered. 'Did you hear about what Hermione did when we took the Ministry, Mother?'

'The firestorm.'

'It's true. I watched her do it. It was...I hear them screaming as they burn. At night.'

Mother was quiet a long time. 'What else, Draco?'

'Those parents. I see them taking all those daises.' He flashed on the long procession of magical ships, each heading to a different country, their cargo the dead and the grieving. He shuddered, and Mother stroked his cheek with her cool hand.

'No matter what, Draco, Father and I are awfully proud of you.'

'Thank you, Mother.'

'Do you really have a headache?'

He shook his head. 'I might nap anyhow.'

'Do. I'll stay until you've fallen asleep.'

'I would like that.'

After her son dozed off (it was kneazle sleep, not a real nap), Narcissa rose and padded down to the edge of the water. Her sister was in neck deep, sometimes ducking under.

'Hello, Trixie!'

'Hello, Cissy. Come and get in the water properly, you shan't reap the benefits if you don't.'

Narcissa waded in. Neck deep on Trixie was less so on her. 'You did remember to have your maid rub your skin down with lotion so you won't get a tan, Bellatrix?'

'I did. Has Draco got another migraine?'

'Just a little too much sun, I think.'

Bellatrix waved to Hermione, who was splashing with her husband some twenty or so metres away. Tamm was with them, floating on his back to look at the sky.

'It was a good idea, coming here today. The boys certainly swim like fish, don't they?'

'And Hermione. I'd no idea she could even swim.'

'I think the muggles used to take her to the sea shore every so often.'

'There's a picture of that, come to think of it.' Bellatrix ducked under again, and came up scrubbing at her eyes.

'We ought to have done this ages ago. It's so...empty out here, isn't it?

Narcissa nodded. She could doggy-paddle a bit, and got closer to her sister. 'Trixie?'

Bellatrix acted as though she was sluicing water over her sister's neck and shoulders as she whispered about the cave, saying the odd word louder, so it sounded like she was telling her sister some piece of gossip.

Narcissa's stomach clenched. Poor Regulus. She forced herself to laugh. 'You didn't either, Bellatrix!'

'I did! She said that (we have to find a way to break it) and she wouldn't so much as look at it.'

'I always said she (how do we do that?) wasn't any better than she ought to be.'

'Women like that (Snape is looking) aren't. And anyhow (have Malfoy bring it tonight) they deserve one another.'

'I couldn't agree more! Trixie!' Her sister had used her wand to sluice some water over Narcissa's head, and she sputtered. Bellatrix giggled and quickly moved backward to avoid retaliation.

Hermione stopped. Viktor and Anu, too, stopped and stared. All three walked closer, eyes wide. 'Are Mother and Aunt Cissy...?'

Viktor laughed. 'I vish I had picture.'

Bellatrix Lestrange, once the most feared and still the most hated woman in Europe, was having a water fight with her sister. Narcissa Malfoy, the most emulated and envied matron in all Britain, was fighting back, both of them splashing and laughing like girls as they tried to duck one another under the water.

Draco chose that moment to wake, and got into the water in time to see his serene, loving, dignified mother launch a jet of water at her sister and then squeal when she got splashed back.

Aunt Hetty and Aunt Gennie stared in shock and then, laughing themselves, joined in. The young people quietly started making their way toward the fray, trying to stay low, using all their training.

Aunt Cunegarde's quavering voice cut them off. 'Linky, go and splash the children. It's not meet they shouldn't be involved if their elders are.' The elf, seamed face alight with pleasure, did so, and the group finally collapsed laughing a few minutes later in one another's arms.

The whisper went round the group. They split up in the afternoon, and when they assembled that evening, Lucius Malfoy held a parcel wrapped in oilcloth. Barty had been excluded from the meeting due to his condition, and Anu, due to his youth. Cunegarde was sleeping upstairs, and Hetty had been sternly ordered to stay far from the diary and not touch it or anything else she had even the slightest inkling might not be safe.

The others were under strict instructions as well. Lucius, Rodolphus and Rabastan had all fathered children, and so, their duty done, could handle it, but the two lads had not, nor Hermione had children, and it could be ruinous if one of them (especially the girl) handled the thing.

Lucius unwrapped it slowly. A book, covered in old black leather, pages a touch yellowed. No one said anything. No one had to.

Outside the parlour, the front door was blasted inward. 'Ministry! This is a raid!'