Disclaimer – I solemnly swear that JKR owns everything Harry Potter. Whether or not I am up to no good with her characters is for you to decide.

-oOoOo-

A/N – I know, it's been far, far too long. There's been reasons. Good reasons even (including but not limited to, a new job, lack of writing motivation, sport and RL). All I can do is tell you how sorry I am and that I appreciate your patience. The good news is that it's now November – National Novel Writing Month – a time that in and of itself is a massive motivator that lasts for many, many months for me. Expect regular weekly updates. So, without further ado, on with the story.

-oOoOo-

United We Stand …

Chapter 7

Headmistress Minerva McGonagall stood stoically beside her colleague as she waited. Her hands were clasped behind her back and the longer that she was made to stand there, the thinner her lips became.

After the past year where the Department of Magical Education of the Ministry of Magic seemed to owl her nearly every other week demanding a time to inspect her school, the fact that they were now nearly half an hour late to an appointment that she'd requested grated on her nerves.

A year ago, she, along with Sirius and Cyrus Greengrass had spent hours filling out the required forms to set up a new magical school. And those forms were essential, regardless of the fact that there were only to be fourteen students. Now that Diricawl Academy of Magical Studies had moved location and was set to cater for ten times as many students, it seemed that the Department's required forms and procedures had multiplied at an arithmetic formula that she was unable to deduce.

"It wouldn't hurt to sit while you wait, Minerva," her Deputy Head called.

Minerva closed her eyes momentarily before turning to see Remus lounging in one of the chairs set off to the side of the Security building. She'd just begun to open her mouth in order to retort when she was interrupted by the goblin at her side.

"The FLOO is activating," Chert, the school's Security Chief stated.

Minerva spun back around to look through the window into the Receiving Room. Indeed, the flames in the far fireplace were now green. As the first of their visitors stepped through the flames, she felt Remus come to stand beside her.

The first two men through the FLOO were well-known to the two administrators of Diricawl Academy: Tiberius Sheppardton, the Head of the Department of Magical Education and Arthur Weasley, the Head of the Department for the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts. Minerva had never been able to determine exactly why Arthur was involved in these discussions. The only thing that she could come up with was the fact that their school placed muggle education of their students as important, right alongside their magical education.

The sound of a great gong resounded unexpectedly throughout the Security Room and a strip of fluorescent red appeared around the door into the Receiving Room.

Minerva's hand shot to her breast as she tried to steady her nerves from the unexpected sound and she whirled to the goblin beside her.

"What is Merlin's name is that?" she demanded.

"Dark Mark," Chert growled, lifting his axe from the wall and giving it a couple of experimental swings. "Someone tried to come through the FLOO with a Dark Mark."

Minerva looked back through the observation window to see the form of the ancient Griselda Marchbanks, Head of the Wizarding Examination Authority, step from the fireplace. None of the three looked startled by the sound of the alarm gong, indicating that the room that they were in was silenced from outside noise.

"One of them has the Dark Mark?" she asked.

"Not one of them. Another. Whoever it was didn't make it through our wards," Chert stated.

"Whoever it was would have been bounced out of the FLOO system entirely," Remus added. "Whoever and wherever they are, I'm betting that they've got one hell of a headache right about now."

Minerva's eyes narrowed as she continued to observe the three Ministry workers on the other side of the window.

"You are positive that none of them bear the Dark Mark?" she asked.

"No Dark Mark," Chert stated. "Their intentions, though, that's another matter."

"Perhaps we should greet them and find out the identity of the fourth person?" Remus suggested.

"Indeed," Minerva agreed.

Then, stepping forwards, she grasped the door handle and pulled it open. From the corner of her eye, she noticed Chert moving into position, his axe at the ready.

"Ah, Minerva, so good to see you again," Griselda smiled.

"Hello, Griselda," Minerva replied. "Before we begin, could I ask if this is all of your party?"

"Actually, no, it's not," Mister Sheppardton frowned. "We were just discussing that. Walden MacNair was also supposed to be with us, to examine your beasts."

"He stepped into the FLOO before me, so I expected him to be here," Griselda stated.

"Perhaps he got out at the wrong grate," Arthur suggested.

"Unfortunately not," Remus stated.

"What do you mean?" Mister Sheppardton asked, taking a step forward.

"Diricawl Academy has been warded with the most advanced and complete wards that galleons will buy," Minerva said. "Including some goblin wards. In particular, one that detects and forcefully rejects anyone baring the Dark Mark."

"That's preposterous!" Sheppardton exclaimed. "Walden MacNair is a respected member of the Ministry of Magic and an upstanding citizen. He is no more a Death Eater than I am."

"Regardless, Mister MacNair does bear the Dark Mark," Griselda stated.

Sheppardton stared at his colleague. "He was cleared! The Wizengamot determined that he was imperio-ed into taking the Dark Mark."

"He was questioned under veritaserum?" Remus asked lightly.

"Of course not. As a member of an Ancient Wizarding family, he was exempt from being forced to take the serum," Sheppardton replied. "I demand that you lower this ward to allow him access! Your beasts need to be inspected."

"We will not be lowering our wards," Minerva stated firmly. "The safety of our children is paramount. No one who bears the Dark Mark will ever be permitted within our school. I will have to ask the Ministry to send a different person for that part of the inspection."

Sheppardton's mouth opened and closed a number of times before he huffed.

"I'll be informing the Minister of this!"

"I commend you on your willingness to place your students' safety above all else," Griselda smiled. "Are there other safety measures in place?"

"Indeed," Remus replied. "Within this room alone – which, incidentally is the only place that people can enter the school via portkeys, apparition or FLOO – there are a number of other safeguards. You'll forgive us if we keep their exact nature to ourselves."

"Very prudent," Griselda replied. "Well, come along, let's begin the inspection; I'm not getting any younger, you know."

For a moment, it appeared that Mister Sheppardton was going to be left behind, but it seemed that his duty to inspect the school overrode his desire to FLOO back to the Ministry and to talk to the Minister, for he managed to scurry through the door to the Security Room just before it closed.

-oOoOo-

"What you want to attempt is incredibly ambitious," Griselda stated.

"Ambitious is not the word that I would use," Sheppardton counted. "Ludicrous, is more like it." He slapped the table in front of him that held the large sheet of paper with all thirty-one listed subjects on it. "Over thirty subjects, the vast majority of which Hogwarts does not offer. And that's not even taking into account that more than a fifth of them are muggle subjects!"

"No one who attempted to fly a broom succeeded by running away from it," Remus stated calmly.

"We realise that what we propose is ambitious," Minerva continued smoothly. "We actually have no intention of offering all of those subjects this year. This is simply something for us to aim for as the years progress. For now, we will be quite content with offering half that number to our students."

Sheppardton turned to the Head Examiner of the Wizarding Board. "Can you honestly see them succeeding with this … this variety of subject matter?"

"Actually, I can," Griselda replied simply. "Diricawl has no students who have attained the traditional OWL age, and yet they have students who have already attempted – and succeeded beyond my wildest expectations – a number of OWLs. Mister Potter alone now has two OWLs."

"I wasn't aware that the OWL results had been released yet?" Minerva asked politely.

Griselda smiled at the Headmistress. "They haven't been. But that doesn't mean that I haven't seen them."

With a scowl, Sheppardton turned and smacked the second piece of paper on the table.

"And what about this list of teachers?" he asked. "Muggles, goblins, house-elves, werewolves. What's next? A centaur and a merman?"

"If they were qualified, yes," Minerva stated. "Diricawl will not tolerate discrimination. Against her teachers or her students."

"And you are serious about taking in werewolf students?" Arthur asked.

"If some can be found that wish to attend, yes," Remus smiled. "We've taken all the precautions that we can – wolfsbane potion and secure facilities for the night of the full moon. And apart from then, they are no more dangerous than any other student."

"Well, I for one am very happy to endorse Diricawl Academy," Griselda remarked, cutting off Sheppardton's next tirade. "Your plans are ambitious, but you seem to have the staff and facilities to rival any school, not only here in Britain, but anywhere in the world. I dare say Hogwarts will need to pull its socks up if it wants to stay ahead of the game."

"That's if they actually are ahead of the game," Arthur said sotto voce, before continuing in a normal volume. "My Department has no concerns either."

"Tiberius?" Griselda asked pointedly.

"The Department of Magical Education will sign off on Diricawl Academy, providing that the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures finds everything to their satisfaction," Sheppardton grumbled.

"Wonderful," Griselda smiled. "In that case, Minerva, I wonder if you could show me one of your diricawls? I simply find the creatures fascinating."

-oOoOo-

"I'm still not convinced that this is a good idea," Harry stated.

Beside him, Sirius glanced across and down slightly. "You'll get no argument from me. Unfortunately, this is one of those times where we're just going to have to jump on the hippogryph and hope for the best."

Harry grunted in response. They'd had this conversation more than once already this week. And not just them, either, but Minerva, Amelia, Remus and even Dan and Emma Granger had joined in, all voicing the inadvisability of their doing exactly what they were doing.

Glancing up as they strode along, Harry felt his heart leap. Once upon a time, the sight before him had filled him with such awe. Back then, though, Hogwarts castle represented a brand-new life, an escape from the drudgery that was life with the Dursleys.

He could still remember seeing the castle for the first time. It was out on the lake, with all its lights shining from its hundreds of windows and the stars as a backdrop. He'd learnt his first spells here and made his first friends. He'd had adventures, too – confronting Professor Quirrell, or whatever he'd become; playing quidditch; and then there was the basilisk that he'd slain hundreds of feet below ground in the Chamber of Secrets.

Then had come the realisation that his life wasn't entirely his own. The Headmaster, the venerable Albus Dumbledore, for some unknown reason, had taken to manipulating his life, determining where he could go and even who he should marry. It'd taken dropping out of school completely and gathering even more friends and allies before he'd broken that hold, not that Dumbledore was content with that. No, it seemed that at every chance that he got, the Headmaster attempted to get Harry back under his thumb.

And here he was walking back into castle, and not just into the castle, but all the way into the Headmaster's office.

The castle was eerily quiet as the two strode through the halls. There were no students here now, not now that it was the holidays. There was no magic being performed, no students running late for class, no sounds of laughter ringing through the corridors. They didn't even encounter Peeves the poltergeist.

"Ready?" Sirius asked, as they came to a halt in front of the gargoyle that guarded the steps to the Headmaster's office.

Swallowing thickly, Harry nodded.

After clapping him on the shoulder, Sirius turned to the statue. "Gummy bears."

At once the gargoyle jumped to the side, revealing a slowly revolving staircase. Together, the two stepped on it to ride up in silence.

"Come in, Harry, Sirius!"

At the Headmaster's voice, they shared a look before Sirius turned the handle of the oak door in front of him and the two walked forward.

The room was exactly the way Harry remembered it from the last time that he was in there the night of the Choosing of the Champions for the TriWizard Tournament. There were shelves full of ancient-looking tomes, tables filled with spindly-looking objects, and every spare inch of the walls was covered in portraits of past Headmasters and Mistresses.

Thankfully, the office wasn't as empty of people as it could have been. Besides Dumbledore sitting regally behind his desk, there were three other people already there, one of which Harry knew.

Amelia turned at their entry and gave the pair a small smile before turning back to the … man beside her. Harry blinked at the person. They were dressed in a heavy black cloak that hid every facet of their body and with the way the hood was pulled up and over not just their head, but also their eyes, casting their face into deep shadow, the person's gender was purely speculative.

The final person there was a tall, bald, dark-skinned man wearing the red robes of an auror. Apart from his very straight posture, the most striking feature of the man was the large gold hoop earring that he wore.

"Ah, that will be our final member now," Dumbledore remarked as the flames in the fireplace flared up and turned green.

The man that stomped out of the FLOO was the most grizzled man that Harry had ever seen. This man had seen battle, a lot of it by the looks of it and Harry wasn't sure whether he'd been the victor. Certainly, he hadn't come away unscathed. His face was heavily scarred; a large chunk of his nose was completely missing; and one eye had been replaced with an eerie magical blue eye that continuously revolved around inside the man's head. At one point, the eye looked to be looking out the back of the man's head, at least, that's the way it appeared with the way that the eye had turned completely white.

"Albus," the man growled, stomping forward.

On every other step, there was a distinct thunk and Harry realised that the man was also missing a leg; it also explained the large staff that he carried. This staff, though, was nothing like Harry's own. Where his was clearly a thing of power, this one looked to be a highly polished and shaped tree branch.

"Now that we're all here, shall we take a seat?" Dumbledore stated.

The seven of them arranged themselves into chairs – six in a half-circle on one side of the great desk, with Dumbledore on the other. Harry glanced at Sirius, receiving a look of 'I told you so' in return. Clearly, just as Sirius and Amelia had predicted, Dumbledore was placing himself in a position of authority and power over the others.

"I think introductions are in order," Dumbledore began. "On my left is Algeron Croaker, Head Unspeakable. Next is Madam Amelia Bones, the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Beside her is Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived-Again, I believe they're calling you these days. His guardian, Sirius Black. Next we have Kingsley Shacklebolt, one of the Senior Aurors in the Ministry. And finally, Alastor Moody, Master Auror, retired."

"Call me Mad-Eye," the grizzled ex-auror grunted to Harry.

Harry quickly nodded. The man looked to be someone that it was best to never get on the wrong side of.

"We are here today because we are the vanguard of those who must fight Voldemort," Dumbledore began.

"Don't you mean Tom Riddle?" Amelia stated.

"Riddle? Who's this Riddle character?" Moody asked, his electric blue eye spinning to rest on Amelia.

"Voldemort's real name is Tom Riddle," Amelia replied.

"Is it now? And how would you know that?" Moody asked.

"Riddle told me," Harry replied. "Down in the Chamber of Secrets two years ago when I had to battle some ghost-like shade of him and his basilisk."

"Huh," Moody grunted, his eye spinning until it came to rest on Dumbledore. "Could have been useful to know that earlier. You knew?"

"Indeed," Dumbledore replied. "I once had the honour of being one of Tom's teachers."

"Good. Gives us a place to start. Know your enemy. If you don't know your enemy, you're not being as vigilant as you could be," Moody stated. "What do we know about him, then?"

"Young Tom began his Hogwarts' career in nineteen thirty-eight," Dumbledore replied. "By the time he graduated in nineteen forty-five, he was a Prefect and Head Boy. Little is known of his life after Hogwarts. He disappeared after a few years, only to re-emerge in the seventies as Lord Voldemort."

"Not enough. Nowhere near enough!" Moody grumbled. "Surely you know more about the man, Albus."

"Some, I will confess, but most of it is conjecture and guesses. Nothing that I would be willing to share as such."

"If we're to work together to combat the threat that is You-Know-Who, then we must learn more about him. Doing so will only aid us in understanding how he thinks and operates," Shaklebolt stated in a deep bass voice.

Moody's face twisted itself into something that Harry thought might be a smile, albeit a smile that Harry never wanted directed at himself.

"I like this one, Am. Got a good mind to 'im," he stated.

"Kingsley is one of my best," Amelia replied. "Rufus would have liked to be here as well, but we had to leave someone back minding the store."

"What I want to know, is how in the name of Merlin's saggy pants did Voldemort survive that night?" Sirius asked. "From what I've heard, there was nothing left of him besides his cloak."

"He was definitely alive enough to possess Professor Quirrell," Harry stated, "even if he looked like something less than a ghost after I burnt him out of the professor."

"Burnt him out?" Moody questioned.

Harry shrugged. "There was a fight and when I touched Professor Quirrell's skin, he burnt up, forcing Voldemort out of the body."

Cautiously, Moody stood, stomped across to Harry and prodded his shoulder. When nothing seemed to happen, it did it again, only this time on his bare hand.

"Well, whatever it was, it doesn't seem to work on me," he grunted.

"You, Alastor, are not Lord Voldemort," Dumbledore stated lightly.

"Really. And exactly what is it about Potter that makes his skin so dangerous to him?" Moody asked.

"Once again, all I can offer is conjecture and theories," Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling over his half-moon spectacles.

"Albus, if you're going to keep that up, we're going to be having some serious words," Moody stated, pointing a crooked finger at the Headmaster.

"And you didn't answer my question," Sirius interrupted. "How can the Dark Tosser still be alive?"

"There are a great many rituals and dark magics that Tom could have delved into," Dumbledore replied. "However, as to which one it was, while I have some ideas, without further proof, all I can do is hypothesise."

"And let me guess, you'd rather not say if you don't know for sure," Moody stated sarcastically.

Dumbledore's answer was a simple enigmatic smile.

"And when will you know for sure," Moody pressed.

"While I do have some lines of research that I can look into, I have no way of knowing precisely how long they might take," Dumbledore replied.

"Albus, a task shared is a task halved," Amelia pointed out. "Tell us what you're researching and maybe between us we can get the job done that much faster."

"Research is one of an Unspeakable's primary jobs," Croaker stated from inside his shadowed hood.

"Perhaps, perhaps," Dumbledore replied, sitting back in his chair.

Moody's eyes narrowed at the Headmaster. Suddenly, he stood.

"This is a waste of my time. Albus, until you're ready to share what you know to make our job that much easier, it's pointless for the rest of us to be here."

With that, he stomped across the room, grabbed up a fistful of FLOO powder, threw it in and disappeared in a whirl of green flames.

"He has a point, Albus," Croaker stated. Turning, he faced the others seated on the same side of the desk as he was. "I will see what I can dig up within my Department and I'll be in contact."

After a nod, he too, was gone.

"I'd say that's our cue," Sirius stated, indicating for Harry and Amelia to follow him.

Within minutes, the three of them had FLOO-ed away. Harry's last glimpse of the Headmaster's office was as Auror Shaklebolt was waiting for his turn to use the FLOO while Dumbledore remained sitting serenely behind his desk.