Chapter Four

Harry stood outside the door of the office of the Aurors and leaned against the door jamb. He was waiting for Hermione to come down the hall and fetch him. Together, they always met Ron in the muggle city of London for lunch. He had already transformed his clothes to look like a young muggle businessman. He wore nice leather shoes, tan slacks, a shirt rolled at the sleeves and a jumper-vest with a tie.

The tie was always askew, just like his rumpled hair. He had grown handsome as he got older. At the age of twenty-four, almost twenty-five, he was a very good looking man. The only thing that truly marred the clean-shaven face, the soft-almost baby-like mouth, long nose and sparkling green eyes was the scar that zigzagged across his forehead. However, most people had long since ceased to glance at it as they talked to him. It was only in the muggle world that people gaped and sometimes in his own wizarding world someone would step back, their mouths hanging open and stutter, "your…your Harry Potter!" It never failed to embarrass him and make him blush.

Harry watched the long paneled hallway and saw her coming. He smiled to himself. She was dressed in a nice blouse tucked into a short skirt that allowed everyone to see her long slim legs ending in high-heeled pumps. Her hair was sleeked back and done up in curls at the crown and she had on a wisp of muggle makeup. Harry thought witches covered too much of themselves when they wore the floor-length robes that were customary for their kind. He noted that, like his own wife Nadya, after eight years and having twins, Hermione's figure was just as attractive, if not more so, than when she was a teen.

Harry was a typical adult male and liked looking at her as she strolled his way, even though he felt very much like a protective older brother. He still liked the way her body moved and the grace of her step, particularly in the heels she wore. He especially liked it when she wasn't carrying a satchel or case heavy with papers and books. He grinned as she came up and grabbed his hand.

"Come on, Harry," she said, frowning. "Ron's got himself in a bind with that horrible man Sean Weeble. We've got to go help him. I called ahead and they're saving us a table at Bowman's. I'm starved aren't you?" She was dragging him towards the lift that would take them up to the atrium, a long hallway lined with gilded fireplaces, of the Ministry of Magic.

Harry knew who she was talking about. Sean Weeble was a muggle who had the Rare and Collectible Antique shop on Darrington Street. Ron had been working for years to put him out of business. The man seemed to be able to find charmed and magical items with unerring accuracy, even though he was muggle. He was also mildly aware of their properties and would often advertise to unwary muggles, who would buy them and get themselves into trouble. Since Ron was the Head of the Department of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts, a job he assumed when his father retired, he was constantly at the shop trying to persuade the stubborn muggle to sell him the intended item. Weeble was very clever and Ron was always a bit soft and together they made for a poor combination.

"What's he into now?" Harry asked, walking along easily with his longer stride. She had her arm wrapped in his and they matched their gait so that they sailed down the hall together. It felt very good to him.

"Oh, I don't know, something about a ruby ring," Hermione said watching as the lift carried them upward. "Honestly, Harry, he just doesn't seem to manage Weeble at all."

Harry was still smiling to himself. It was a typical day. Ron was going about his job, as Ron always did. Hermione was always doing a million things at once including frequently rescuing her husband from his blunders and Harry was enjoying himself. He had finished his Auror training and was handling cases with more frequency, often being put in charge. He was apparating back and forth daily to his wife's kumpania, that was currently touring the wizarding villages around London. He enjoyed being with his son, Daniel who was very bright and fun to be with. He'd spent almost every moment of free time with him since he'd been born and he was looking forward to taking home the present he had wrapped for his eight birthday.

They swept through the visitor's lobby and entrance. It had been transformed in his days at the Ministry. When he was younger and the three of them had battled Voldemort in the Ministry there had been a fountain; a complete misrepresentation of reality, Harry thought, as they walked past the area where it had been removed. He seldom allowed himself to think about it anymore because it was a source of pain and he hurried on with Hermione.

She continued to chatter on as they took the phone booth to the street level. The sun was bright and warm for a May day. They hurried down the street. If anyone had been watching, and someone was, they looked like a attractive young couple having a friendly conversation.

Hermione pushed open the door to Rare and Collectible's Antiques and saw Ron at the counter. Harry followed more slowly. He looked at the crammed counters and shelves, rarely dusted and ran his hand across antique mahogany furniture. His senses were so fine-tuned to dark magic that he could often feel the vibrations emanating from an object. There were some items, but not many, that held dark powers; not enough to concern him. His training as an Auror was now almost second nature and he did this without really being conscious of the fact that he was analyzing these objects.

He wasn't paying attention as Hermione joined Ron at the counter. Something or someone did catch his eye when he happened to glance up and look out the dusty shop window. Past the stacked first edition volumes, the Victorian lamps and the violin case, Harry saw the figure. It was only for an instant. A figure that seemed to drift into an alley.

My imagination, he thought.

He fingered a golden charm bracelet that lay in a blue-velvet box and thought of Nadya. He knew that she would like it, although he had given her many presents. After he had killed Voldemort, most of his money had been discovered and returned to his vaults at Gringott's. He remained, along with Remus Lupin, one of the richest men in the world, thanks to the inheritance from Sirius, his godfather. He could afford in the wizard world- in either world- to buy whatever he chose. The issue was, he didn't care about money, except that he could buy anything he wanted for his wife and son.

"Mr. Weeble," Harry asked suddenly, "how much for this bracelet." The fat man dressed in a pinstripe, out-of-date suit looked around Rona and Hermione who were now talking heatedly to each other, "Oh 'ello Mr. Potter. Didn't see you come in. Well, that would be 100 pound sterling, that would." He smiled a greasy smile. It always turned out that Harry seemed to be his best customer.

"I'll give you fifty," Harry said holding it to the light. It was very old and encrusted in filth, but he knew a little soap and water would bring out the sparkle.

"Right you are then, Mr. Potter," Weeble nodded. "Should I wrap it for the missus?"

"No, I'll take it as is." Harry dropped it in his pocket. He knew that the little man would add it to his bill and the bill would be paid very promptly at the end of the month by a Gringott's goblin dressed in muggle clothing and carrying wizard money transformed into muggle money. Harry had seen it once and thought the sight hilarious.

"Come on, then," Hermione said loudly and pulled Ron away just as she had done to Harry leaving the Ministry. "I'm famished and our hour is getting away from us."

She linked arms with both men as they stepped from the shop and they strolled down the street together. Harry glanced back once at the alleyway, remembering for a moment the mysterious shadow. Shrugging, he joined in the conversation that Hermione was having almost with herself, as she usually did when she was with both of them.

I don't even know why I ask you," she said later to Harry as they finished their meal, "you can't ever say what you're doing." She'd inquired into how his job was going.

"Well, I can say that I'm going to be away for a few months," Harry reported. "Doing some clandestine work."

Ron leaned in conspiratorially and asked, "Is it Malfoy again?"

Harry glanced around the small café almost devoid of people. It was past noon and people were back out shopping. He nodded, "Lucius," he added. His friends nodded in understanding.

"Is Draco still working for you?" Ron asked. "Being a, what you call, a snitch?" He smiled. It always made him smile. Muggles called their informants snitches and in the wizarding world a snitch was a small golden ball with wings used in Quidditch.

Harry didn't smile, the joke had grown old. "Yeah, still a snitch. I've tried to warn him time and again that he can't play so freely on both sides of the fence, but he's always been that way; arrogant and cheesy."

Hermione sighed and stretched, "Oh, it's so busy in our department. You know Lucius is so much craftier than Voldemort ever thought of being. He's infiltrated all sorts of groups and doesn't come right out and kill people anymore; just subverts them. Of course, time will tell. In my opinion, he's ever so much worse in many ways, but then we weren't around when Voldemort was terrorizing everyone the first time round." She had leaned in as usual and was twisting a spoon in her lemon tea. "I imagine Nadya is not happy about your being gone, Harry."

He glanced up. "I haven't yet told her." He felt guilty.

His friends looked at him and Ron stole a look at his wife. Hermione frowned again and whispered, "Oh, Harry!"

"Tonight," he said. "I'll tell her tonight, planning to anyway. I won't be around for Danny's birthday and I want to tell her so that we can tell him together. I'll be gone for two months at the most, I think." Harry stared at his dirty napkin and then reached in his pocket for muggle money.

Ron held his hand back. "Not this time mate. It's on me." Ron dropped some bills on the table. "It's time we hurry along anyway. Tell us about it on the way, I'm headed back with you. Got paperwork and all."

The three stepped out of the door and strolled back along the street. Harry always found the muggle world a little less pleasant, no matter what time of year. He could smell the acrid stench of petrol fuels and the noise of the cars roared by them on the street as they walked the tree-lined avenue. It was always a busy, more frantic world and one that he had gladly given up. It was refreshing to walk just a short distance further and go in the employee entrance down a dirty, greasy alley.

The alley was darkened brick with one doorway that had been boarded up. No rubbish bins or other clutter that normally lined alleyways was present. The alley made a sharp hook to the right and they ended up facing a dead end. Hermione tapped the bricks with her wand, each having their own personal code, and the bricks separated and a doorway revealed itself. With practiced ease they each glanced over their shoulder to make sure they had not been followed and stepped through the doorway. Once inside they parted and Harry stepped on the moving stairs that took him to Level Two and to his department.

At six o'clock sharp, he stepped into the hall and was met by a tall man with dark hair, dressed all in black. Harry was both pleased and surprised. He hadn't seen his old Potion's teacher, and now trusted friend ,for some time.

"Severus," he said and grasped his hand to shake it. "Good to see you. Is everything all right…Dumbledore?" He studied the man's face carefully. It was always a little hard to tell what was going on with him. He perpetually wore a grim look or a frown and often a glare, that was unless they were talking of Harry's son Daniel. Harry knew that if the man were in a foul mood that he would just bring the subject up and they would be on speaking terms again in a short time. The man adored Daniel.

"Dumbledore is fine, Harry," Severus answered and turned to walk with him down the hall.

"Come to the camp with me then and see Nadya and Daniel. Eat dinner with us," Harry replied and took the stairs. They exited out the doorway in the alley. A wizard sat nearby directing the exits of all wizards to the muggle world where they could apparate home. His job was to make sure that it was done without notice by the muggle world.

Snape nodded his head once and together they apparated in afternoon shadows of the alley. Eyes watched them from the rooftop as they emerged and disappeared. They too, disappeared.

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Harry immediately began talking as they stepped on solid ground near the wagons, "I'm going to be away a short time, Severus. Harding thinks perhaps two months should do it." Severus knew exactly what Harry was going to do. Although he was not an Auror and never had been, he had done enough spying and undercover work that he could have written a book on it.

"You will keep in touch with me?" Severus asked.

Harry nodded as they walked towards camp. "Yes, of course." He knew that it was strictly against rules for him to divulge information about Ministry activities outside of the Ministry, but he disregarded those rules or they became second-rate if they interfered with the Order's activities. Snape was heading the Order of the Phoenix since Dumbledore had retired as their leader. Harry had not seen his old Headmaster for eight years.

"Anything you have that can help, I would appreciate it," Harry said, as he stopped and smiled. He saw a dark-headed boy running towards them at full speed.

"Yaewww!" the boy was crying as he ran across the field. "Boldo! Boldo! Papa!"

Snape stopped and he too, smiled. Harry watched as his son ran full-tilt at his godfather. Snape dropped down and lifted him into the air. "Yanel!" he said and frowned. "You are heavy and you'll break my back. I am an old man." He spoke in Romani, the language of the Gypsy people.

"It's my birthday soon, Boldo," Daniel said, ignoring the typical response his godfather always gave him.

"Is it?" Snape asked, setting him on the ground. "Roma don't give presents, I understand."

The boy had kissed his father on the cheek and returned to him and was hugging him around the waist.

"I am half Roma and half Gadjo," Daniel said and that set his father laughing and his godfather growling.

After the long hug, they walked together and met a slender woman with dark hair caught up in a emerald green scarf. She was barefoot and her skirt swirled fully around her ankles. Harry reached and grabbed her around the waist for a quick hug. She turned and pulled the tall man next to her husband down and stroked his face with her hand and smiled. He returned her look with a warm and loving one of his own.

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A week later Harry was dressed much differently. He had let his beard begin to grow and had dressed in old, filthy rags for clothes. He wandered into Knockturn Alley and meandered down the narrow lanes. It had not been his first time in the Alley, that had taken place when he was only sixteen. This time he was accustomed to the smells and sounds, to the skulking mysteries, of this part of the wizarding world and in moved in it as if he had been born there.

He knew his errand well. He would have to meet up with Draco Malfoy and learn about Malfoy's father's activities. Lucius Malfoy had easily and effectively stepped into the shoes of Lord Voldemort. Ironically, it was Malfoy that had saved Harry from Voldemort.

Lucius was a ruin of a man, at least in a physical sense. He no longer was attractive with his long blond hair and clear blue eyes. Instead, he had one eye, the other crushed by Voldemort, was covered with an eye patch. His face was crossed with scars, which Voldemort had also given him. His soul had been scarred years before, by the same evil wizard.

Harry knew him to be a formidable enemy, a former Death Eater, and now reigning evil wizard of the time. His son, on the other hand, Draco Malfoy, had been a student with Harry at Hogwarts. They too, had been enemies. In a moment of weakness, Lucius had asked Severus to protect his son and save him from the Dark Lord. Now he thought his son was his ally. Harry also knew that Severus had tried to keep the boy clean and away from dark magic.

It was in Draco nature to be drawn to both. He had ended up walking the narrow path between both worlds. He was a spy and an informant. Harry was to meet with him and learn Lucius' plans. It was obvious that the older Malfoy was wanting to begin a reign of terror unequalled and surpassing that of his own teacher, Lord Voldemort.

Harry crept into the shadows and disappeared into the perpetual nightmare world of Knockturn Alley.

There was a presence, however, that did not lose sight of him, one that followed like a cat stalking a bird.

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No one took notice that Harry was gone since his friends were aware that he was on a mission. Snape stayed in the camp for several weeks and kept Nadya and Daniel company. He dressed as the Romani in a loose shirt tucked into trousers. He wore a kerchief around his neck and a beaten, broad-brimmed hat on his head. Like the other men, he wore old boots. The camp had given him a name years before when he had first come into camp following Harry. They called him Old Crow. Rather than being an insult, it was a name of respect; meaning good luck.

Snape found that this world suited his needs very well. During the school year he was satisfied to return to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. During the summer he often traveled. But because of the events of the past few years he had found a home of sorts with Harry's adopted family, the Romani.

In particular, he felt that Daniel and Nadya were almost like a long lost daughter and grandson. He thought about it as he let Nadya cut his hair one day. He liked the feeling of a woman's maternal touch.

"Dat (father)," she chided, "put your head down so I can do this back." She shoved his head forward and he closed his eyes, smiling at her use of the term. She was teasing him and he groaned at her. "I will do as I do the babies if you don't keep still!" she exclaimed. "Or I will miss and cut off an ear."

His godson laughed. Daniel was sitting on a stump watching the procedure. "Don't do that mother," he laughed. "Boldo could not wear his hat. His ears keep it up on his head!"

Nadya laughed and Daniel roared at his own joke. Snape shook his head like a dog coming out of water and sprayed them. They were enjoying themselves.

It was mid-summer and warm. Children were playing naked downstream from camp. Men were laying around the smoldering campfires smoking and women were resting from their chores. Older children, Daniel and his friends were out with fishing poles fishing, or grooming stock or wandering the woods.

Snape lay in the shade of a wagon, his hat over his head, napping. A large dark bird, a raven, swooped through the cobalt blue sky, circling until it landed at his feet. His eyes opened into slants and he watched the bird. It walked up and stood near his elbow, "Mail Deliver, Mail Deliver," it said, in English.

Snape pushed his hat back and reached for the tube of paper tied to its' leg. The bird sidestepped his hand. "Dante, if you don't let me have the post I shall eat you for dinner," Snape told it very dryly. The bird stretched the leg forward and turned its head. Severus untied it and the bird flew immediately, sideswiping his face with it's outstretched wing. Snape glared at the bird and unrolled the parchment. He read it, tossed it in the nearby fire and laid back pulling his hat back over his face.

It was Harry's. When he was working undercover, Harry had used Dante, the raven to send messages. Post was normally carried by owl and very few people expected a raven to do it. Snape was satisfied, everything was going well.