A/N: So, someone mentioned in the reviews that they wanted to know what was happening in the rest of Britain, so I decided to write these scene sooner than I had planned to. Whatever, it makes no difference, since it fits well into the overall plot. Tell me what you think!

THREE

Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, was not having a good day. Truth be told, ever since Voldemort had made his debut as Dark-Lord-Most-Evil more than two decades ago, there hadn't been a single good day. The Auror Office was victorious on more than a few occasions, but those conquests were tempered by as many defeats, some on British soil and some beyond, in the Kingdom of Norway, and more recently in Germany, where the Dark Lord's influence grew rapidly.

It amazed her how one man's ambition could throw an entire continent into war and threaten the very foundations upon which the wizarding world stood. Dumbledore, Voldemort, Cosimo, Grindelwald—they were different sides of the same coin. Men who had to have their way no matter what the consequences, Dumbledore less so than the others.

Damn them all, she thought. Damn them to hell and back.

Amelia punched the magical intercom on her desk, leaning all her weight down on the little red button. "Get me Sirius Black and James Potter!" she barked. Adding as an afterthought, "And some bloody strong tea, if you please."

"Yes, Commander Bones," replied a tired voice. "I'll get right on it."

Commander.

She didn't like the sound of that one bit.

There'd been a time when she was simply Madam Bones, an auror with a great track-record and more than a few kills under her belt. Respected, liked and trusted—the paragon of law enforcement. Now, partly due to her lineage and mostly due to her skill, she'd been unceremoniously damned as the Head of the DMLE, tasked with leading a 'proper and aggressive' offensive against Voldemort's forces operating on domestic soil. The Dark Lord's foreign designs in Europe, as ever, were thwarted by Dumbledore and his limitless wealth of contacts, which were as mysterious as the man himself.

He was veritable genie, Dumbledore was.

And a secretive old git.

If only he dropped dead from a heart-attack.

But that was asking for too much. She should wish for something smaller, like Voldemort slipping in the bathroom and breaking his bloody neck.

Did wizards as powerful as him even go to the bathroom, or did he transfigure it all away?

"Where is my damned tea!" she snapped again, on edge. "And where are those two buffoons!"

"Here, Madam Bones, right here!" announced Sirius Black, forgoing her official title and striding rudely into her office with his signature boyish grin. Somewhere in her belly, a fire stirred awake. "The Two Buffoons, at your pleasure."

He deposited himself on a nearby seat, throwing his legs up and resting them on the edge of her gleaming desk. He gave her a wink and smile seconds before James Potter entered the room, his eyes dark and steady, alert as ever. He said nothing for a second, but had the decency to knock Sirius's feet off the table before assuming a seat beside him.

"Commander Bones," he greeted properly, dipping his head ever so slightly. "I hope all is well."

She almost snapped at him for being late, but realized that wasn't a great idea. James was one the best aurors she had, short of Kingsley and a few more experienced fighters. During his youth, he'd been cheerful enough, always fooling about with Sirius, but he'd changed after his son was taken by that nutter Moody. The worst of it was no one knew what to make it. Some said Moody has lost his marbles long before he took Harry Potter away, others said he was just lonely and wanted a son.

What utter nonsense.

Amelia's head was about to burst.

"If I have to ask for that tea again…!" she warned the intercom.

It appeared before her, just as she liked it. House elves—wonderful creatures. They were the only people (goblins too) who operated just as efficiently in wartime as they had before. She was quite sure most of them were too occupied in their work to even realize Britain was at war.

"We have new intelligence," she began, chasing away her pointless musing and passing them both manila files. "In the past two months there's been a massive influx of Death Eaters from the continent, more than we've seen in a while. We caught three of them in the last week alone, but they didn't have anything to tell us. Apparently, they were tasked with entering Britain, where they would receive further orders. So at this point, we have almost no idea why there's been a sudden rise in Death Eater's trying to get past customs, but we're operating on the theory that it isn't good."

Sirius nodded sagely. "Brilliant, madam. Brilliant."

"It gets worse," she continued, giving him a hard look. "Two independent sources have confirmed that somewhere between three and five Nightwalkers may have found their way to our shores. I don't have to tell you what kind of shit storm we might be facing."

That seemed to catch their attention, especially James', who was suddenly gripping his seat as if in pain. But there was fury in his black eyes, cold and unbending fury.

Nightwalkers were wizards and witches trained by Voldemort himself, taught secrets of the dark arts known only to a chosen few. Over the years, the DMLE had gathered enough information through their spies to piece together a general understanding of what their training constituted. It was believed by many that the final test their skill involved a duel against Voldemort himself, where they had to survive for at least a minute. If they failed, well…they died. Otherwise they assumed the mantle of Nightwalker, the Dark Lord's personal guard and pet killers. They were deadly and intelligent, the best fighters in Voldemort's ranks.

The bounty on a single Nightwalker was unbelievably high, and there was an entirely separate fund set up for paying aurors brave and skilled enough to bring back a Nightwalker's head. The only person in the Auror Office to have killed one on his own without any help was Kingsley Shaklebolt. From what Amelia had heard, however, Dumbledore seemed to have knocked off more than a few, as had his second-in-command, Severus Snape. She didn't trust the old man as far as she could throw him, which wasn't all that far, but no one could fault Dumbledore his achievements.

Rufus Scrimgeour was waiting for the day he would finally be relieved of his office and pass the burden on to someone else. He was adamant it had to be Dumbledore, but the ancient wizard was bent on staying at Hogwarts. Apparently, saving wizarding Britain wasn't as important as teaching children how to levitate feathers.

"They're finding more ways to slip past our net, boys," she said, giving them a chance to look through the files. "This is the prelude to a massive attack, possibly an assault on one of our cities, or even the Ministry itself."

"You think we might have a repeat of the Edinburgh Massacre?"

Amelia grimaced, wrestling with the urge to curse Sirius. The Edinburgh Massacre had occurred on the very first day she took office. Death Eaters apparating into the center of the city, shooting off Killing Curses as if it was Christmas. Seven hundred dead, including thirty aurors and as many of Voldemort's people. It was one of the worst terrorist attacks in recent history, and most people attributed the security failure to her, even though it had only been her first day as the Head of the DMLE.

Let no one claim the world is fair.

"As I was saying," she continued past gritted teeth. "I intend to bolster security around all high-risk zones. That includes Hogwarts, and that's where the two of you come in."

James Potter's fierce gaze was immediately on her. "I'm not taking up guard duty at Hogwarts, Commander," he said. "With all due respect, you need me out hunting these people. More so now that we have Nightwalkers in our backyard. I've passed every advancing training course Kingsley has put me through, and I'm confident I can bring down at least one them."

"I've got James' back wherever he goes," put in Sirius, his grin slipping into a more serious expression. "So if he's hunting Nightwalkers, I'll be there right beside him."

Amelia massaged her temple, letting out a deep breath. "Will the two of you shut up for a moment? My head is killing me!" She downed the scalding cup of tea in a single gulp, disregarding their concerned looks. "The entire department has just been put through goddamned budget cuts, so now I have to just as much with even less resources! And then there's Scrimgeour, who expects me to turn the war around with a snap of my fingers, and all of wizarding Britain watching my every move, waiting for me to slipup so they can blame it all on someone!

"Not to mention Dumbledore," she ranted on, "who won't tell me squat of what's happening in Europe and who commands the loyalty of more than half my aurors, including the two of you!"

The men had the decency to look ashamed.

"Now listen well," she spat out. "Sirius, you're being assigned to Hogwarts. You'll have three aurors to help you out, and I'm sending Frank Longbottom along with you. I want a thorough report on my desk concerning the condition and effectiveness of the wards. My niece is studying there, so I'll have your balls if you screw this up."

Sirius might have whimpered. Just a little.

"James, I'm volunteering you to teach Battle Magic," she continued, raising her hand to stall his objections. "It's only once a week, so you'll head down to Hogwarts every Friday and teach them battle tactics and true fighting. Once a week, that's all I'm asking for. Severus Snape is the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, so I expect you to consult with him and get a sense of how proficient your students are."

"That slimy git," Sirius muttered.

James Potter could barely keep to his seat. "Why me, Commander? Send someone else, someone you can spare!" he demanded. "With the Nightwalkers in Britain, you need me out there. It'll take more than a few us to put a dent in their ranks, and it does no one any good to send me away to Hogwarts."

She brought her hand down sharpish. "These are my orders, and you'll obey or I'll have you bumped down to obliviating muggles!" she snapped. "I need someone who can teach them how to fight and someone they like. We did a poll last year, and you came out as the most popular auror in Britain. For the life of me, I can't imagine why. The girls love you, absurd as it is. Must be all that brooding."

Sirius let out a laugh that sounded almost like a barking dog, and slapped his thigh with mirth. "Wait until Lily hears this!" he taunted. "She'll lock you away until you're old and gray. Old and gay, more like."

"Shut it, Padfoot."

Amelia ignored their antics and pressed forward. "I need you to inspire more graduates to join us in the fight," she said, softening her tone slightly. "This is as important as storming after Death Eaters, James. You'll do this, and you'll do it well. Give inspiring speeches, show off some of that transfiguration skill I've heard so much about. Whatever it takes, I need fighters on my side or I won't have anyone to send out the battlefield."

The auror settled down with a long sigh of resignation. "Very well, but only once a week, and I won't tolerate fools. They'll learn my way, or I'll have them thrown out of my class."

"Look on the bright side," said Sirius. "You'll be closer to Lily. She'll teach you Potions; fulfill all your Professor Lily fantasies."

James Potter's cheeks flushed an uncharacteristic red, and Amelia wondered what she'd set into motion. The last thing she need now was the Daily Prophet featuring a story about one of her aurors caught naked in Hogwarts, having sex with a professor, even if she was his wife.

"And you're daughter's also attending this year, isn't she?" asked Amelia, hoping to steer the conversation away. "Won't you rest easy knowing Rose is close by, easily within your reach? If only once a week?"

She knew she was laying it on thick, since he had already agreed, but it didn't harm anyone for her to butter-up the deal. "While you're not at Hogwarts," she continued. "You'll be, searching for whatever you can find on the Nightwalkers. I'm giving you, Kingsley and Savage each your own teams to do the job. I won't rest easy knowing I have dark wizards of their caliber roaming free on Britain's streets."

"Thank you, Commander," said James Potter immediately, his expression brightening. "I won't disappoint."

"You had better not, because I really do need more obliviators," she warned, at least half-serious. "For now, I want you coordinate with Kingsley and Savage and pick who you want for your teams. This isn't a competition, so share what you find with each other. I'll be briefing the three of you tomorrow, and I need some concrete ideas to work with in the meantime.

"You, on the other hand," she spoke to Sirius, "should pack your bags and head off to Hogwarts immediately. Dumbledore's expecting you by the end of today."

"Got it," he replied, giving her a mock salute.

They both stood, only to be stopped by a stern look from her. "I want to remind you that despite your loyalties to him, I am still the Head of the DMLE, and you report directly to me. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Commander," replied James.

"Sirius?"

"I report to you. Won't forget it, cross my heart."

As they walked out, Amelia Bones started reading her most recent report from Europe. Apparently, eight Death Eaters had been found dead in the Black Forest, one of them tortured and killed brutally. There was not much else to the report, and she made a note to ask Dumbledore about it. He had a greater grasp on what was going on down there than she did.

"You think I have a chance with her?" asked Sirius lightly as they walked away from their meeting with the Head of the DMLE.

"Hmm?"

"With her. Do you think I have a chance?"

James was distracted and barely spared a glance in his direction. "With who?"

"You know," he replied, an edge of annoyance in his voice.

"What are you talking about?"

"Lily," Sirius deadpanned. "I mean, now that we'll be spending so much time together at Hogwarts, I was wondering whether I should make a move—OWWW!"

James had hit him discreetly with a Stinging Hex, so quick that no one in the crowded hall even noticed. They were all staring at Sirius with reproving expressions, tut-tutting in their high and mighty manner, noses turned up as if he wasn't worth their consideration.

"What was that for?" he snapped, elbowing his best friend in the ribs. "It's not my fault you weren't listening, now answer my damn question."

"Stay away from her."

"I'm not talking about Lil—"

"I know who you're talking about, Padfoot," replied James, daring him to continue with that thought, "but she's the Head of the DMLE. And since when were you interested in her?"

Sirius grinned dreamily. "Since I saw her sitting behind that great, big desk," he said distantly. "I have authority issues, didn't you know? I need a good punishment to put me in my place."

"Oh, for the love of—can get your mind out of gutter and stow that nonsense for a second?" he demanded. "Did you hear what she said in there? We have Nightwalkers in Britain, Sirius. The last one killed six trained aurors before Kingsley caught up with him and put an end to it. He was lucky too, considering the man didn't try to cover his tracks, apparating all over the place."

That sobered him for the moment. It was no small thing, to overpower an auror, let alone six in a single encounter. Sirius and James hadn't been on scene that night, but the witness statements painted a gruesome picture. The aurors hadn't even stood a chance, cut down by the Nightwalker as if they were children right out of Hogwarts. The place was still scorched with dark magic, enough to make your gut wrench when you came to close to it.

Kingsley had somehow managed to follow the madman across Britain, tracking him through the ephemera—the magical signature—left behind by his apparations. He'd finally cornered the Nightwalker right in Diagon Alley, outside Flourish and Blotts. From what they'd heard around the watercooler, Kingsley had appeared out of thin air, shattered the Nightwalkers shields and killed him in twenty-seconds flat, blowing apart the man's chest without even trying to arrest him. The people there are the time refused to give any official statements, which left the whole matter an official mystery.

But some of the Wizengamot members had gone as far as to call it murder.

James and Sirius, on the other hand, had bought Kingsley a drink and celebrated until they were piss drunk.

"What do you suggest we do about it?"

"Hogwarts," said James simply. "It's too tempting a target for anyone on Voldemort's side. The difference is, we're not dealing with ordinary Death Eater's anymore. Nightwalkers may just have what it takes to slip past the school's wards, and we both know what a powerful wizard can do to school children at close quarters."

Sirius shrugged. "Dumbledore will destroy them if they come to Hogwarts, and we both know it," he replied indifferently. "And McGonagall's no pushover herself; I saw her fight in First War, and it was enough to scare the hell out of me. So long as there is breath in their lungs, they won't let anyone do serious damage in Hogwarts."

"Serious?" he asked, an edge to his voice. "You do realize we're talking about children, don't you? I measure serious by the scale of a single death—even that's too much."

"Stop for a moment."

James kept going.

"Look, just stop."

The man came to a halt, but his shoulders were tense.

"I'll watch over Rose like a hawk—like a dog," he said, grinning just a little. "And Lily too. I'll make sure my rooms are close to Gryffindor Tower. Give me a month down there, I may even ask Amelia for a few more aurors. We'll have that place locked down so tightly that not even Rita Skeeter will be able to find her way in."

"Oh, don't bet on it. She goes even where the Dark Lord dares not."

Sirius leaned back, flabbergasted. "Was that a joke? My, my, Potter, I'm impressed."

The auror flipped him off and strode away, calling back over his shoulder. "Pack your bags, Sirius. Back to Hogwarts for you!"

"I'll tell you this, Longbottom," said Sirius, the dusk red around him. "There's no place like Hogwarts. My years here…they were the best of my life."

The school stood in the distance, chased with the deep colors of the setting sun. Its spires towered high over the castle, which was no more than a hulking mass in the fading light, grotesque against the backdrop of the Scottish Highlands. The walls cast long shadows over Hogwarts' grounds, which stretched all the way to the edge of the Forbidden forest, and the Black Lake sat quiet in all its dark glory, silent and without a ripple.

Frank Longbottom, a tall and powerful auror, smiled at the sight of the castle. "And mine too," he replied. "But let's not forget why we're here. Come, Dumbledore must be waiting."

They set out into the grounds, heading along the road from Hogsmead, and almost immediately encountered the wards. They pressed against him for a moment, unbearably thick, but slid over his flesh a moment later as he was accepted as a friend. If anyone who did not have permission attempted such an obvious breach, they would be frozen in place, held there by forces almost none could break. And even if they did manage to break free somehow, a dozen more defenses would be activated, each stronger than the first.

Sirius let the scent of Hogwarts seep into him, that of the forest and the grass, the lake and wind—all of it, bringing up a tide of memories, not all good, but still worth remembering. He could smell woodsmoke on the air, and a narrow line of grey rising toward the sky betrayed the location of Hagrid's hut. Sirius wanted to take a detour and have a chat with the half-giant, but he knew Longbottom wouldn't stand for it. They were, after all, on official business.

Their approach to the front of Hogwarts was heralded by a swift wind coming from the north, and far above the mountains in the distance, dark thunderheads flared with purple and blue lightning. He could taste the rain on the air; in an hour, the downpour would hide the turrets under swirling rain, the glazed windows of the Great Hall would shine with bursts of lightning, and the walls would rattle with the call of thunder.

He missed this place.

The massive oaken doors opened to admit them, and Sirius strode into Entrance Hall, its high vaulting ceiling rising far above him. The school was ancient, and he could feel it in bones as surely as he did when he was at Black Manor, amongst all his family's history. There was a sense of deep grandeur to it all, as if the stones themselves breathed with life. Hogwarts was a place of a magic and power, a place where the most gifted witches and wizards of history had passed through on their path to greatness.

Hogwarts was built in late Early Middle Ages, with the foundation stones laid by the four most celebrated wizards of their time, Rowena Ravenclaw, Salazar Slytherin, Helga Hufflepuff and Godric Gryffindor. It was considered to have the most ancient and powerful protection in the whole of Britain, with some of the original defenses being forged by Godric Gryffindor's own hands, considered by many to be the most skilled warder in history. It was the task of every Headmaster since to learn Gryffindor's original designs and raise the defenses should the need ever arise.

It was for this very reason Hogwarts had never fallen into the hands of dark wizards, despite numerous attempts by some of the most powerful Dark Lords who have ever tainted history.

"Put your tongue back in your mouth, Sirius," came a loud drawl. "You'll catch a fly."

The man was tall and slightly gaunt, his black eyes hollow and without feeling. The shadows of the entrance hall seemed to stretch towards him, and the light dimmed where he walked, wrapping him in a sinister and powerful aura. His robes were dark and immaculate, not a stich out of place, and his hand never strayed far from where his wand sat ready in his pocket.

Sirius grinned and turned to the newest arrival. "Why, Snivellus," he replied, spreading his arms for a hug. "Slimy as ever, you fucking git."

That was the extent of their friendship. They hated each other and made no attempt to hide it.

"And you are as uncouth as I remember. The years seem to have done little for your wit."

"Uncouth? Really?" mocked Sirius. "Who even says that? Oh, before I forget, I bought you a present. Here."

He summoned a bottle of shampoo and sent it flying at Snape, but the Potions Master waved his hand dismissively, turning it to ash. If they'd been back at school, there would be a duel right about now, but neither of them made a move to attack the other. They weren't children any longer, and the slightest misstep would cost them their lives.

"You will keep a civil tongue in your mouth, puppy, or I'll have you thrown out," spoke Snape, dropping the temperature of the room several degrees. "It would do you well to remember you have no authority here other than that which Dumbledore awards you."

"Is that so?"

"Yes."

Sirius threw his head back, dark hair flying wild, and roared with laughter. When he was done, the auror wiped away invisible tears and reached into his robes, drawing out a folded parchment. "I'm here on Amelia's orders, Snivey, m'boy," he replied. "Haven't you heard? I'm the auror appointed to guard Hogwarts and its grounds, with considerable executive powers at my disposable, I might add. For example, I can investigate anyone—anyone—who I believe is a threat to the students. Isn't that just topping?"

The man's expression grew darker.

"Dumbledore knows, of course," continued Sirius, savoring the moment. "I'm surprised he didn't mention it, you being his second-in-command and all. Trouble in paradise?"

The Potions Master waved his hand in an imperious gesture that communicated all his contempt. "You are a child." Eloquent and brief. "It doesn't surprise me, though, that they would send a dog to do guard duty. Quite fitting."

The auror shrugged nonchalantly. "You keep calling me a dog as if it's an insult, but I really don't see it that way, so keep at it, you slimy shit," he replied. "Longbottom and I are going up to the Headmaster's office. Why don't you scrub some cauldrons for Lily? Oh, wait, I forgot: she hates your guts."

And that slapped the sneer right off Snape's face. Gloating from his victory, Sirius and Longbottom walked past him deeper into Hogwarts, and Sirius's taunting laugh echoed through the halls, goading the former Death Eater into a fiery hatred.

In the next chapter, Harry has already arrived in Britain and is staying at his London apartment. Not everything as he imagined it would be, especially with the Eye of Everid showing him things he doesn't want to see.