For disclaimer see first chapter's notes.

'' Equals thoughts and mind speak.

"" Equals speech and quotations.

HPHGHPHGHPHGHPHGHP Equals scene break

Thanks to my Proof reader:Tumshie.

Chapter Seven

Draco slipped on the patch of ice and slammed his head. The sound of large footsteps reverberated on the mountain. The large black dragon stood over Draco, hot gasses hissing out of his nostrils. The dragon bent down and sniffed, pleased that he did not smell urine. It would appear that the boy had a bit of a backbone after all. The large leathery wings folded along his back. He sat back on his haunches he seemed to shrink. As he shrank his features morphed, becoming more human like as the process progressed. Where once stood a large black dragon now stood an elderly man with a gnarled walking stick. The man stood at five feet with a stoop. In his youth he would of stood at almost five feet eight inches. He had long waist length white hair and a full-face beard that reached down to his bell button. He wore yellowy brown robes and wooden sandals. Hidden by his floppy fringe was a pair of piercing eyes one a vibrant emerald the other a dull grey with a green halo.

The old man sighed in annoyance as his guest had gone exploring before his return. It was getting harder to keep outsiders off of his mountain. It was a pity that the boy had bumped into the last trespasser on his mountain. He pointed his walking stick at the boy and gestured. The boy floated in front of the man as he made his way to the small stone hut. The door opened as the two approached. Once they crossed the threshold the door slammed and the fire roared to life. The boy floated over to the bed, as the man went over to check his potion simmering on the cauldron. He sighed in relief that the boy had not even investigated the cauldron or it's contents.

After a half hour tending to the cauldron he siphoned off three vials of potion, and corked them. He then poured the remainder in to a carved wooden chalice. Taking the wooden chalice he went in to the bedroom. Manipulating his walking stick he raised the boys upper body. He stuffed a pillow behind the boys back. He put the chalice to the boy's lips and grabbed his nose. The boy gasped for breath and swallowed the potion. Some trickled down his face as his eyes widened in shock. The boy gasped for breath, then started to cough, great wracking coughs. The man thumped him on the back, after a while the boy settled down. The boy's eyes rolled up in his head as he slipped in to a troubled slumber. Nodding to himself the man got up and went into the kitchen all the while muttering. He waved his walking stick at the black misshapen cauldron. The potion remains were scourged. He filled it with water from the walking stick and put it on to boil. The sun hung low in the sky bathing the kitchen of the hut in oranges and reds as the evening gave way to night.

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Many believe that the London Underground was the first massive tunnel complex under the city, they are wrong. A much older complex was created almost three thousand years ago. About a mile underground lies a cavern. This cavern contains a doorway leading to others seeded across the globe. Vampires discovered the caverns worldwide and developed them into underground cities. One such city lies beneath London and its various tunnels and secret bunkers.

The underground city consisted of caverns hewn from the rock and connected by narrow tunnels. As the infamous London Underground was constructed the vampire population abducted some of the engineers and builders to upgrade the hand made tunnels of the vampire city. Due to this action the tunnels of the vampire city were of a similar standard to the railway tunnels above. The engineers were forced to construct elaborate underground spaces for vampire needs. One such space belonged to the old Craven clan.

The Craven house was a large cavern with barrel-vaulted ceilings. The space was constructed of four vaults interconnected on both axes. The resulting barrelled vaulted ceiling arose on nine large marble columns arising from the flag stone floor. A sweating man rushed past the rows of exquisite red marble coffins towards the throne room. The room was a bay with four of the massive columns at its corners. Large deep velvet heavy drapes enclosed the space. Inside the space was an engraved marble and gem-encrusted coffin on a gold lacquered pedestal. Beside the coffin lay a large King sized wrought iron bed. Six nubile ladies lay draped on the bed ravishing a blonde fashion model. Opposite the bed stood a sterling silver encrusted throne. The throne bore the Craven crest and was adorned with jewels and sapphires. A top the throne sat an elderly gaunt man in a deep crimson suit. The blood red suit was almost black in colour.

The sweating man burst in to the room gasping for breath. One of the ladies on the bed sank her canines into the male models flesh. He grunted in pain as he rode out his orgasm. One of the minx's on the bed pouted before she sank her fangs into his left buttocks. This action started a feeding frenzy among the six women. The elderly man on the throne sighed as his lady's wrecked the bedclothes again with mortal blood. He turned to regard the mortal that dared to interfere before speaking.

"You dare interrupt my wives feast?"

"Nno Sssir." Stammered the man as he saw the last gasps of the dieing man on the bed.

"So why did you come?"

The sweating man cowered as the six women eyed him hungrily.

"Sir. We lost the Manchester safe house this evening."

"And?"

"It appears wand wielders were using it for a meeting place."

"What!" The old man roared.

"Rufus managed to kill one of them at the house. He had a brand Sir."

"What brand."

"A Dragon eating a unicorn. Sir."

"What colour was the Dragon." Asked the old man as he studied the messenger.

"Yellow."

"Fuck."

"Sir?"

"None of your concern. Now continue with your report."

As the sounds of sex came from the bed between the six women. The messenger's eyes drifted to the scene on the bed. The old man got up out of the throne and stalked towards the sweating messenger, like a cat stalking a mouse. The messenger backed up through the drapes. A hand lashed out and pulled the messenger back.

"I said continue with your report." The old man growled.

"One of the wand welders escaped while the one with the brand died. Rufus tracked him to a house. The house is located in one of London's more up market suburbs. The wizard broke into the house. The house's occupants seem to consist of a witch and a wizard with a strange signature, and four mortals."

The messenger smacked his lips trying to wet his parched throat.

"Rufus brought his protégé Louis and an attack team of mortals. Rufus used thrall on the woman of the house. A fine woman in her forties she is too, to gain access, as he crossed the threshold the woman's daughter interfered and fought with Rufus in a sword fight."

The messenger's eyes darted around looking for escape.

"Continue, I know there is more. Your heart beat is like listening to a buffet gong."

"Yes Sir." Stammered the messenger. "Rufus lost, Sir, the woman's daughter killed him."

"What!" Roared the old man. "Rufus was a sword master of over five millennia and he was bested by a mortal just on the cusp of womanhood. Ha, I don't believe it."

"Sir, it gets worse." Stammered the messenger.

"Worse!" Roared the old man.

As one of the women on the bed broke from the orgy and slowly approached the old man. She kissed him on the lips before moving behind him and started to stroke his back, trying to comfort him.

"It appears the one of the residents of the house is a Were' and is also attacking and killing the strike team."

The old man sighed, it would appear that this night was going to go down in the annals of time as a Royal fuck up. "But Were's are tied into the Lunar cycle and the full moon is not till the end of the month."

"I know Sir, that's about a fortnight away."

"What of Louis, did he get revenge on the bitch?"

"No. Sir. The bitch's lover killed him and retreated with the unconscious were' into the house."

The old man sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Fine, what's the situation now?"

"Two more teams responded to the distress call issued by the team leader on site."

"Ladies, playtime." As the old man gestured towards the Messenger.

With a feral grin the five women pounced as the messenger passed out in fear, his urine staining the floor. One of the women growled in disgust before joining in on the group blood-letting. The old man pulled on a cord hanging from the ceiling. A nude female servant approached with still bleeding puncture marks visible on her left breast.

"Dispose of those." As the old man gestured to the two dead men.

"Get me your Diner." Said the old man.

The servant bowed and left. A short while later two men entered wearing just dog collars. Each man took a corpse in a fireman's carry and left. The women on the bed carried on with the orgy as if noting happened. After the two men left another blonde male model entered and approached the bed. The ladies eye's lit up with lust and licked their lips.

A regal woman entered the throne room. She was a tall thin woman with slight pert breasts, barely covered by a crimson evening gown. Blood still trickled from her mouth. Following close behind was the servant with another set of puncture marks on the inside of her right thigh, just below the trim pubic hair.

"Yes, father? You don't mind if I finish my lunch?"

"Not at all, dear."

The nude servant approached the regal woman in the crimson gown. The woman slit the servants wrist and bled the wound into a crystal glass. As the wound bled the woman turned to her father.

"You summoned me."

"I am afraid I have bad news, your mate, Rufus, is dead."

"No." The woman shrieked, as in her grief she tore at the servant's head.

The servant's body collapsed as the head lolled at an angel the human body was never designed for, her sightless eyes locked on the orgy on the bed. The man left the throne and shrugged off the woman massaging his back. She returned to the orgy. The old man embraced his daughter.

"There, there, Lizzy, we'll get the bitch that killed him."

That wroth more sobbing from Elizabeth.

A strike team commander stood silently watching the scene. The old man maintained eye contact and nodded. The commander understood and left. The house in London would be rubble by morning. Reports from the scene were not good one strike team dead; two more under attack, and sunrise only an hour away.

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The sound of urgent whispers reached Harry through the bullet-ridden door. The men outside were cautiously approaching the house after the first group were decimated. Frank was propping up Jane under the stairs. Remus was unconscious on the floor as a wolf his damaged leg wrapped in a bloodied bandage. Minerva stood over the packed contents of the house in six magically modified bags. Hermione lay on the floor asleep from fatigue. Snape slumped to the floor at the Granger's feet.

"Where are the bags from our room?" Asked Harry as he looked at Minerva.

Minerva pointed to one of the bags wondering what Harry was up to. Harry rummaged around in the bag before removing a large rucksack. He pulled a sealed bottle and drank the contents. At Minerva's questioning look Harry explained that the bottle contained an energy drink with a magical seal for preservation. A sphere snapped into existence and then faded away leaving behind Hermione's sword and Harry's gun. Harry swayed from exertion, grabbed another bottle, and downed the contents. Harry pulled out a pair of dark grey combat pants and pulled them on. Next followed a pair of socks and a pair of army boots. He next produced a plain blue T-shirt, then a black hoody with a red crest and the script. Radstock Chess Club. Centenary 2007. Minerva frowned at Harry when she saw the writing on the back. "So Many Positions . . . . . . . . So Little Time!"

Harry frowned when he heard a noise from outside. He thrust the summoned gun into Frank's hand, along with three magazines and said. "Go cover the kitchen, please."

Frank nodded and moved to the door to the kitchen, and stayed in the hall.

Turning to Minerva, Harry frowned and explained when he saw her reaction to his hoody. "It's from the Chess club Professor." With a grin, "I hope you thought more of me than that!"

"Oh, Sorry Pot . . . Sorry Harry, old habits, I think I am half asleep."

"That's okay, do you know a spell that will clean some of the grime off of Hermione."

Minerva raised an eyebrow.

"My magic is what is keeping me going at this point, we need to leave now. Hermione won't appreciate being moved naked. I don't want to dress her while she is dirty. The dirt will irritate her skin under her clothes and she will wake up . . cranky. Once was more than enough for my lifetime."

Minerva nodded and set to work as Harry provided Hermione's clothes. Harry then removed two large rolled up blankets and put them to one side. He then removed a magically modified M4 assault rifle. At Minerva's questioning stare.

"As I said I am too tired to use my magic, hence the gun."

Harry loaded the gun with two magazines; one for the main gun and the other was a magazine for the forty-millimetre munitions launcher. The launcher was a completely magical construction based on a 40mm grenade launcher, the main difference being that the magazine held the capacity for ten rounds of ammunition even though the weapon looked like it could only take two. Harry lined up the sights on one of the black vans and fired. A projectile spat out of the lower barrel at just sub sonic speeds. The van exploded into a large fireball from impact as the explosive incendiary round went off.

As Harry covered the front of the house he directed Minerva to spread out the brown blanket and place the entire luggage in the centre. Harry fired the machine gun at a man that got too close to the house. The man rolled on the grass in agony as his left knee cap exploded from the bullets impact. Once Minerva was finished Harry directed her to gather the four corners together. Minerva backed up in shock as the brown bundle morphed from a blanket into a brown cloth rucksack with two handy carry straps. The contents of the house safely in the centre as the blanket morphed into the bag. It was unlike any magic she had ever seen.

"Time to get out of here." Stated a worried Harry as he sprayed a burst of machine gun fire out the front door.

The advancing men dived for cover. Frank returned from the kitchen and grasped a silent Jane. Harry handed him the brown bag while he grabbed the other rolled up blanket. Harry slung the blanket over his shoulder and gently picked up Hermione. The two men left for the attached garage and sat the women on the spare deckchairs in the large garage. Frank grabbed his car keys and tried to start the Mercedes, it was dead. Harry asked Frank to look after the two ladies while he went back for Remus, Minerva and Snape.

As Harry returned he spotted a man with a gun just outside the front door, so he fired the rifle. The door splintered from all the bullet damage sustained and fell apart. Minerva levitated Remus' wolf form while Harry slung Snape on to his shoulder. Harry dumped Snape onto the concrete floor of the garage and looked around. Jane's Clio was peppered with bullet holes and the thin metal garage door was almost completely destroyed from weapons fire. Harry spotted a group of the attackers and after witnessing a narrow miss that might of killed Minerva he decided enough was enough. He lined up his sights and pulled the trigger. Half a second later the garden under the men exploded hurling the bodies eight feet from the blast. A groan came from behind Harry; it would appear that Snape was coming around.

"Professor, I would rather that Snape stays unconscious for the foreseeable future, I believe those people." As he pointed outside. "Followed him here."

Minerva brandished her wand and a stunner lashed out and Snape stopped groaning.

"Sorry, Mr. Granger." Apologised Harry, as Frank looked up at that statement, Harry turned to Minerva.

"Professor, will you clear the floor and get rid of the two cars, please."

Minerva nodded and with a slash of her wand the two cars slowly shrank and with a pop vanished.

Frank replied with an, Oh, of understanding. Harry opened a flap on his pants pocket and removed two flick knives. He passed one over to Minerva who raised an eyebrow at the gesture but accepted the knife. Harry untied the two leather straps keeping the rolled up blanket secure. He unrolled the blanket, a stitched message read; Wrong side. Harry asked Minerva to give him a hand to turn it the other way round. The other side had an arrow stitched on it, which Harry directed towards the garage door. Harry started to rip the stitching along the edge and directed Minerva to do the same. Harry paused half way through to fire at an attacker that got too close to the house.

Once all the stitching was ripped, Harry grabbed the upper blanket and pulled. The blanket revealed a sleek black estate car that seemed to pop into existence. Frank gasped in shock as Harry grabbed the key stitched to the lower blanket, unlocked the car, opened the rear hatch, threw in Snape, and directed Minerva to help him lift in the wolf form of Remus.

"Why don't I just levitate him?"

"Your spell would fry the car's electrics."

"Why don't we Apparate?"

"I don't know how, just Sphereing instead, besides Hermione, Remus and Snape are knocked out. Anyway those people." He gestured outside. "Followed Snape here, so they must be able to track Apparation. Besides all of my magic is being used to keep me awake long enough to get us all to safety."

Once Remus was laid on the boot floor Harry wrapped the upper blanket around the wolf and pressed a bright yellow patch. The bundle around the wolf glowed a faint blue and faded away leaving Remus in a safe secure cocoon. Harry opened the back passenger door and gently placed Hermione into the middle car seat and belted her in. Jane came out of her stupor and climbed in beside her sleeping daughter. Harry asked Minerva to climb in the back as he slammed shut the rear door as he threw the keys at Frank and directed him to drive.

"But it's a Beemer, I prefer Mercs." Returned Frank as he saw the blue and white emblem on the key fob.

Harry sighed and said. "Frank, we need to escape it doesn't matter what the damn car is just drive."

Looking suitable chastised Frank adjusted the seat quickly, stuck the key in the ignition, and started the engine. A loud metallic roar came from the four pipes to the rear; Frank shifted the automatic to forward and floored the accelerator. As the car launched through the tattered twisted metal of the garage door Harry opened the electric window and fired at one of the remaining vans. The explosion lit up the pre-dawn sky. The last remaining black van made to give chase. Harry leaned out the window and fired. The shell struck the vans radiator and exploded, the forward momentum caused the van to flip over length ways in a fireball. Frank glanced into the rear-view mirror and was dismayed to see the house explode.

Frank guided the car south and marvelled at the raw power of the roaring engine as the needle swiftly went past one twenty on the Speedo. Frank glanced across at Harry and noticed his head lolling to the side, fast asleep. Minerva's scream shattered the silence as Frank looked forward in shock. Across the road were parked two vans with men in front brandishing rifles. Franks foot slammed on to the brake pedal. The large car swiftly slowed down, the amber indicators started to flash as the car's brain decided that it was an emergency breaking manoeuvre. Frank was pressed into the seat hard by the seat belt pre-tensioner.

He cowered behind his hands as the men raised their rifles to fire. A man in a navy suit slowly approached, he wielded a small cutlass. Realising that the men had not fired yet Frank put his hands back down on the steering wheel. The man with the cutlass smiled and bared elongated canines. Frank put the gear selector in to reverse and slammed his foot on the accelerator. The car shot backwards at an alarming pace. Frank pawed at the wheel, the car slew right. Harry's window went down. A gout of flame issued forth from the lower barrel of the rifle. The man with the cutlass exploded as the car now faced north. The Vampire had no time to react to the explosive munition so was unable to phase and allow the explosive round to harmlessly pass through him. The selector went from reverse to drive as the car lunged forward. The tyres screamed in protest, the burning corpse receded into the distance. As the red gloom of the rear lights faded into the distance the corpse burnt away to a black skeleton and then crumbled to dust leaving a black mark on the roadway.

Frank glanced across at the now awake Harry. Harry rubbed his shoulder under where the seat belt lay. He then reached across and pressed a button on the dashboard. Frank asked what he had done. Harry responded tiredly that the car was a sports version of the car and the button unlocked all the power of the engine. Frank frowned at this wondering where the BMW came from he preferred his Mercedes E-class thank you very much. For five minutes the pair debated where to go as Frank had meant to head for the tunnel and on into France and maybe stay with some good friends he knew from his old college days. It was decided that they would rush to Holyhead and the ferry to Dublin as they both felt it was safer than staying in England for the foreseeable future.

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Due to the blast in London and electronic equipment not working, the roads were much busier than usual, therefore the Staffordshire Police put on extra road patrols, checkpoints and speed traps. One such speed trap was located just outside Stroke-on-Trent. A pair of officers sat in their Police issue Volvo T5 pursuit car at the side of the road. The passenger was aiming the hand held speed camera; the monotony of the early morning was broken as a black blur blasted past the police car. Higgins's gasped in shock as the speed camera clocked the blur at travelling at over ninety miles per hour. As Rickman gave chase, Higgins's got on the radio and informed control of the incident. It took the pursuing car almost ten minutes to catch up and maintain progress.

Rickman glanced at the cars speedometer and spotted that the Volvo was doing about one hundred and seventeen miles an hour, in a sixty zone. Higgins said when he spotted the rear of the black car.

"I have never seen a car like that before but it appears to have a B.M.W. badge."

"Yeah, the reg. is not standard either, radio Control for back up, they're not stopping, and it's a pity air support is still grounded."

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Meanwhile Harry instructed Frank to lose the pursuing police car. Frank asked how. Harry sleepily replied that Peter Morse had sourced the car. It was a five-year-old high performance BMW with a derestricted speed limit of over two hundred miles per hour. Harry also said that the couple had worked on the car under supervision and the car was tested at up to about two ten and every thing was okay. Peter had said that the car could conceivably out run any car from ninety-six.

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Higgins got on the radio as the black BMW accelerated away from the pursuing Volvo.

"Control in pursuit of a black, unidentified Bravo Mike, Whiskey, failing to stop. Over.

"Zulu Five Eight, understood, nearest units to your location are panda cars. Over. What is current speed over?" Replied the radio.

"Control current speed is one four zero. Over. Having difficulty keeping in touch. Over. Registration is Zulu, Zulu, Five, Seven, Hotel, Hotel, Romeo, over."

"Zulu Five Eight, Registration is not, repeat not in the database."

Rickman watched in dismay as the black menace in front pulled away at high speed. Control told Zulu Five Eight to stop pursuit due to public health concerns. About four hours later radio chatter reported another sighting of the black car outside the port of Holyhead. It was unfortunately too late as the report was made from a traffic control room and the information was ninety minutes late and communications was only short range the long range transmitters were still out of action.

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Around the same time the Police were getting sightings of the black car the remains of the attack force on the Granger house were reporting back to the Craven Clan. Over four strike teams were deployed in the attack, only the remains of a gutted team survived. The leader of the survivors approached the Master's coffin in trepidation. The marble coffin lid slide noiselessly to the side revealing an irate Master Vampire. The report on the failed attack on the house where Rufus died revealed that the occupants had escaped. The Vampire became incensed and he tore into his own men killing all of the men in the space of twenty long seconds. In his rage he missed his daughter Elizabeth and her manservant disappear into an underground space scant seconds before the air in the cavern seemed to turn to fire. He tried to phase out of danger only to late realising that the Craven Cavern had protections against such an action so that rival factions did not phase into his domain and kill him. His last thought before he knew no more was the hope that his daughter survived to avenge his death.

Elizabeth sat in the corner of the throne room silently observing the last in a long line of fuck ups by her father. First he did not kill an emissary from the being known as Voldemort fifteen years ago. Then he allowed the safe houses to be used by those damn wand wielders without any repercussions at all resulting in the loss of about two hundred safe houses in the past decade. Then she discovered her father ordered her husband to solve his problems for him and died while attempting to complete the task. Now it would appear that the standard of the attack teams had been allowed to slip so much that it would appear that two lowly magic users could take them all out and what was worse, allow them to escape. Well now there would be a reckoning thought Elizabeth as she nodded to her manservant Vincent.

Vincent's eyes widened in understanding and muttered into his walkie-talkie. All through the Craven underground complex men who were loyal to Elizabeth were sealing all the entryways into the underground chamber. Over the last twelve months men loyal to Elizabeth had been seeding various explosive devices throughout the cavern. Elizabeth had made sure that the planned explosion would kill all those within and had directed her men to create an easy escape as she wanted to make sure her father died. The preparations were complete at the end of May. Elizabeth had hoped to protect her husband Rufus and remove him from her father's control but after this mornings events she decided on a better course of action, revenge against her father.

Elizabeth grabbed her manservant into an embrace as the four massive napalm bombs exploded. The explosion ripped through the underground chambers known as the Craven House. The fire destroyed everything in its path, coffins, vampires and humans; no one escaped the inferno except Elizabeth and her manservant, Vincent Vance who was a master Samuri. A delayed charge went off sealing the escape tunnel as the inferno roared overhead. After an hour burning all the oxygen in the chamber was consumed by the fire, leaving behind a ruined cavern. Elizabeth's men started pumping liquid concrete in to the space after all the oxygen was consumed by the inferno, so that the roof of the cavern would not collapse. Elizabeth did not want to draw attention from the other Clans as she went about setting up a new base of operations.

Vincent was the first Englishman ever trained in the discipline of the Samuri. He completed his training over five hundred years ago. He was a lowly peasant when he was turned in twelve seventy-five. He slowly worked his way east before the Emperor's men captured him. He was unnerved when he realised that the Emperor was not afraid of him, instead the Emperor offer of freedom only after he joined his Ninja force. After the Emperor's death Vincent left China and returned to Britain. On his return he bumped into the Lady Elizabeth and she saved his life from wand wielders. The Emperor had drilled into his subjects the ideals of loyalty and Vincent felt that he must do everything in his power to repay the debt that he owed to Lady Elizabeth. He learnt everything possible about Lady Elizabeth and discovered that she was in an arranged union with Rufus. Vincent approached the Lady Elizabeth and pledged servitude for the rest of his existence. Vincent knew Rufus's death had hit his Mistress very hard but was not surprised at this power play. The pair had escaped through an old refuse chute in the floor that was extended by the men under his command. A small shaped charge sealed the passageway after their escape protecting them from the raging inferno above.

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Albus Dumbledore awoke as one of his monitoring devices started to blare. He hurriedly left his bedroom for his office. The paintings were giving out about the racket given off by the device that Harry had wreaked after his childish tantrum. Dumbledore sighed when he realised that the device monitoring the Granger residence was not fully repaired. In it's original state it would alert him if any one attacked the house, or if Hermione invited Harry over with out his permission. Dumbledore thought that Hermione was a poor influence on the weapon, even though she had helped Harry to survive. The device told him that the house wards were destroyed. With a flick of his wand his nightclothes changed to day robes. Another swish and the device was now a two-way portkey. With a fall of colour the office was once again quite, once the paintings were sure they were alone they started to gossip among themselves about the latest development in Dumbledore's plans, and the fact that they all seem to be going down the toilet. Fawkes trilled a lament as his master slipped further from the path laid before him. With a small pop the magnificent phoenix vanished from Hogwarts for the foreseeable future.

Dumbledore popped into a Muggle investigation. The house was just rubble lying on a plot of land. The sun was peaking through a cloud of smoke and dust. A husk of a van lay burning on the front garden. Black tyre marks led away from the destroyed garage. Dumbledore looked around in shock but was slightly relieved at not seeing a floating dark mark. From his developed sense of magic he found that he did not detect much magic at all, just a faint trace that a werewolf had been here not too long ago. He walked unimpeded through the rubble and to the backyard. He was dismayed to find a burnt wand in the hallway; he was surprised to recognize it as Severus's wand. He wondered why Severus would visit Hermione, as He knew that Severus detested Gryffindor's and especially know-it-all Muggleborns such as Hermione Granger. With a sigh, knowing their was nothing he could do he popped back to Hogwarts.

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Hugh Wallace slowly awoke cuddling his wife. The charmed mirror he was given was playing a piece of music he didn't recognize. The mirror was on the bedside table. His daughter was lying in a crib at the foot of the bed. Last night he held his daughter Claire and contemplated his role in the war. He was glad his wife understood that he was doing his part so that they could have a future with Riddle vanquished forever. He was firmly of the opinion that the Potters could complete their goal and was happy to assist in any way possible. Yawning Hugh reached for the communication mirror and flipped it open. Hermione's tired face came into view, Hugh glanced at the clock, the time was quarter past eleven in the morning.

"Morning, Hugh."

"Morning, You look like you need to go back to bed."

"Yeah, plan to, you look like your just up yourself."

Colour flooded Hugh's cheeks "Well I got to know my daughter Claire pretty well last night and anytime she woke up I got up to look after her so that Helen could sleep."

"Ah that's nice, you're a good man, and I hope Harry does that when it's our turn." Replied Hermione with a smile.

"I'm sure he will, what's up."

"There was an attack on the house last night. We believe that Professor Snape led Vampires to our house. We were forced to flee, Minerva packed the house while Harry and I bought some time."

"Is everyone okay?"

Hermione looked haunted "No, Crookshanks and Hedwig got banged up a lot on our escape as Minerva had put them in to the bags from our room. She is claiming that she was not fully awake. And mum is very quiet I think she is shell shocked. Also Remus got injured but he will recover."

At Hugh's questioning glance.

"The attack occurred about four this morning." Hermione then yawned. "Sorry excuse me."

"No problem." Responded Hugh, he did not like to think what they had gone through and why Snape would visit in the dead of night.

"We are in Dublin, Dad drove from our house to Holyhead. He had intended to go to France, but it didn't work out. He says he knows people here. We will be in touch. Will you go to the bank and set the plan we discussed in motion. If nothing goes wrong you won't hear form us until this day week. Okay."

"Okay, Take care."

"Bye, Hugh, tell Helen and Claire we wish them all the best and that we are asking for them."

"I will, bye."

The mirror image of Hermione faded away to be replaced with his own.

Hugh put down the mirror and frowned, he hoped to see his friends again, for he no longer considered them just clients. And he went about getting ready for his upcoming meeting with the Goblins.

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Amelia Bones slowly awoke and last nights events came flashing through her consciousness. A team of Death Eaters had attacked her house. Her long time friend Jack Bauer had come to her assistance. She had activated the panic charm in the house's wards but no one came from the Ministry to help. When she got back to work, heads would roll. After they had stopped the Death Eaters last night and had a mug of tea the pair diligently processed the scene and placed Portkeys on the bodies so that the bodies would be transported to the Morgue on Azkaban Island for identification by the staff on the island. Once that task was finished, the pair made short work of then repairing the house. Amelia did not want to spend the night alone so invited Jack to spend the night.

Amelia sighed as her body responded to the male body spooned in behind her. Jack was a good friend; they had known each other for over fifty years. He was a shoulder to cry on when her husband died twelve years ago. Jack's wife, Mary, was struck down by a classic red London Routemaster bus as she crossed the street five years ago during Christmas in the pouring rain. Jack poured himself into work; Amelia thought that he never really dealt with the loss of Mary and became distant with his son, Keith. She missed her daughter, Linda, she lost her in childbirth. She was eight months along when she was struck by an unknown silently cast purple spell, she was in her early twenties when she conceived. The perpetrator was never caught although she had her suspicions she knew who may have cast the spell as it appeared the spell was used on a pupil in the same year as Susan during Voldemort's attack on the Ministry. After the Auror's initial investigation revealed that six school kids held off the attack. One of the injuries sustained appeared to of resulted in serious damage to the poor girls chest and had a telling purple signature. Ever since the spell appeared all those years ago and it's devastating effect the Unspeakables were no closer to knowing how to block or treating it's devastating effects.

Amelia absently rubbed the purple bruised skin on her lower belly from so long ago. The Healers had said it was a miracle that she had survived at all. She lost her unborn child and almost died from blood loss. The damage to her womb was so bad she would never conceive again. As she remembered the flash of purple and the intense pain and the knowledge that she lost the child she started to weep. She thought that the poor Granger girl was scarred for life like she had been. Her thoughts drifted to last night and the fact that the Ministry never responded to her distress call. She had noticed that an awful lot of wizards and witches had vanished leaving all the departments of the Ministry severely understaffed.

Then it struck her hard, all she had left was her friend Jack. And she may not have survived the night and the twelve attackers, except for his timely assistance. She decided that she would do everything possible to catch Keith and Susan's murderer. As she got out of bed with a mission the action woke Jack. She raised an eyebrow as he removed a small ornate dagger from under his pillow and scanned the room even though he had put up level nine protection wards last night. Amelia could feel the magic emanating from it.

"Thank you for your help last night." Greeted Amelia.

Jack nodded and rubbed the tiredness out of his eyes.

Yawning he said. "We will trace Susan's movements later today after we get breakfast."

Amelia nodded and proceeded to the bathroom and the welcoming shower within. After breakfast Amelia side-alonged Jack to the house where Susan had lived. They appeared in the kitchen, the smell of stale food was over powering. Amelia spotted a piece of parchment with a note saying that Susan's mother had popped over to Diagon Alley for some ingredients for dinner and hoped to be back before six. Amelia knew that her sister and brother-in-law were dead already as she had been notified by her staff of their deaths. The couple's bodies were found among the rubble of Diagon Alley. She knew her sister met her husband at Diagon Alley as her brother-in-law worked in her department and had told her he was meeting her sister that dreadful afternoon.

Amelia left work at four that dreadful day that shook the Magical world to go on and meet the International Confederation of Wizards in regards to secrecy and security in Britain during the current unrest gripping the country. She was supposed to meet her sister and brother-in-law for a chat. The job was so busy she had very little time for family. A lone tear trickled down her cheek at the though that her whole family was gone. She was the only one left. Before she side-alonged Jack to her sisters house, Jack had showed her the forensic recording of his son's apartment. She took little comfort in the fact that her niece had managed to become a woman with her betrothed before her untimely demise. Steeling herself for what was to come she moved through the house and guided the brooding Unspeakable up stairs to Susan's bedroom.

The bedroom was decorated in shades of pink with vibrant red highlights. The room was like a bombsite with clothes strewn about. It was as if someone had left in a hurry after searching through the wardrobe and every other available surface. Jack removed the same device he used in Keith's apartment. He fiddled with the controls and activated the device. A ghostly image of Susan appeared in a fall of colour as the Portkey dumped Susan onto the bed. She got up off the bed and hurriedly got changed into Muggle clothes. The recording then showed Susan frantically search the room for something. After a while she seemed to give up and went downstairs and straight out the front door. Jack frantically paused the recording.

Jack then turned to Amelia and asked the question; "what was she looking for?"

Amelia angrily responded. "I don't know, but where did that device come from, my Auror's could have used them in their line of work."

"Sorry Amelia, but that's a trade secret of the Unspeakables and I'm not even supposed to use them in front of you. If the others ever found out I would be . . . . dealt with." Responded a crestfallen Jack.

"Oh." Whispered Amelia, she always thought that the Unspeakables were a law on to themselves, she never realised until now that it she might be true.

Jack turned back to the device and manipulated another control as he took hold of Amelia's hand. At Amelia's look Jack explained that he was making it so that only the pair of them could see the recording, as they seemed to be going into populated areas after leaving the house. The disillusioned couple followed the ghostly form of Susan to the train station and proceed to the platform for trains to London. A ghostly image of a train appeared, Susan boarded and after two minutes it pulled away from the station heading to Waterloo Station. Jack hurriedly paused the playback and removed a long narrow parcel from his robes. He unwrapped a slate grey broom with the marking "Firebolt, Black Edition." Stencilled in black against the dark grey handle.

At Amelia's questioning glance Jack stated that all Unspeakables were issued with the best of equipment and the broom was the latest edition of the Firebolt. The research arm of the Department specially adapted it with various safety charms removed and various top-secret charms placed upon it. The reason the investigation branch was furnished with expensive brooms was the fact that they had to be prepared for any eventuality. Jack tapped a red leather patch on the broom and it became invisible. The pair mounted the broom and followed the recording of the train after Jack resumed the playback. Jack guided the broom above the railway line so that they would not crash into passing trains.

Jack sighed as he glided after the ghostly train. He did not want to speed up the playback in case he missed anything. After what seemed like hours the image of the train pulled into Waterloo Station. The pair dismounted from the broom and Jack packed it away again before resuming the playback. As Susan made her way through the London Underground, the pair struggled to follow Susan with out bumping into any passer-bys. The transport system was just returning to normal after power was eventually restored to the city of London. Londoners were swiftly returning to their normal lives after the strange explosion. Amelia gasped as she recognized the streets once they left the Underground behind. They were not too far from the Leaky Cauldron.

The pair passed through newly erected wards. Jack's eyes widened as he looked over the reconstruction going on in the area. Goblins were pouring over the outside of the bank, repairing and cleaning the façade. Jack observed a Wizard holding a black dragon hide case argue with a Goblin guard. Witches and wizards were rebuilding the many shops of the Alley. The area looked bigger than what he remembered. In contrast to the vast rebuilding going on, on the magical side of the barrier the Muggle side was devastated. The streets and buildings were vast piles of rubble. The Alley formerly known as Diagon Alley was cleared of rubble. There were various buildings under construction. Four appeared to be finished with people setting up businesses. Another twenty looked almost finished with paintbrushes flying around painting the walls. Deliverymen were bustling about making deliveries of furnishings. The pair noticed the heavy Auror presence. One of the on duty Auror's approached the couple, only then did Jack realise that his invisibility charm was not working anymore. Jack did not give the Wizard a chance to interview the couple.

He had his identification ready, flashed his high security clearance to the man, and said he was on a very important case. The Auror seemed to sigh in relief and went back to his patrol. The ghostly image of Susan started to flicker as she moved to the remains of the destroyed Apothecary. Jack followed close behind and gasped in shock at the intense build up in magical energy caused by the forensic device. The recording up to now had been eerily silent. But Jack was surprised to hear the anguished scream Susan made as she died in the recording. Amelia's eyes widened in shock as she felt her magic drain out of her body and flow towards the image of Susan's floating body. Jack dropped the magical device, which shattered, on the ground. Jack's eyes widened in shock as he saw a pulsing ball of magical energy floating over the spot Susan had died. The ball of energy seemed to cycle through the colours of the rainbow bathing the rubble in coloured light.

Four on duty Aurors rushed to the scene as they felt the intense build up of magical energy. Jack cast a forensic spell and was dismayed at the readings. According to the spells ghostly numbers there was over one thousand separate magical signatures in the pulsing ball of energy. That meant that over a thousand wizards and witches fuelled the explosion with Susan apparently the unwilling catalyst. Jack was firmly of the opinion that Susan was an unwilling pawn in the attack. He was stunned at the amount of devastation caused. He remembered being briefed on the potion that could cause a similar effect, but it was nowhere near as potent or destructive. The recording he was shown involved one attacker and six unfortunate victims in the blast. The recording was from a Dark Ritual preformed in Russia about ninety years ago. The International Confederation of Wizards decided that all Ministries across the globe should be aware of the Potion and to make sure it never came into the hands of the general populace.

Jack turned and barked orders at the four on duty Aurors. The order was to seal the scene as he called in the forensic investigators. The witches and wizards on the street warily observed the ball of energy floating about five feet over the rubble. Pops were heard as the Investigators Apparated in to the street. Jack went over to meet the team leader and briefed him on what he had discovered. The Investigators started to decipher the magical signatures and begin the laborious process of identifying the dead. Amelia sighed at least they could solve some of the missing person cases. As the magical signatures were identified a small fluffy ball of magical energy gently drifted skywards. Every so often a sickly green blob would drop to the ground. After the third instance it was realised that the green blob of energy was from a dead Death Eater. As the signature was identified as a know Death Eater that escaped recently from Azkaban. Amelia observed the procedure detachedly as she tried to think how Susan was feeling as her body was used to bring such destruction. After an hour the sphere of energy was noticeably smaller. Jack had left the scene, he wanted to process some samples from Keith's apartment personally.

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Hugh checked the contents of his Dragon skin case one more time before he left the kitchen. He kissed Helen goodbye and looked in at the sleeping baby Claire before leaving for Diagon Alley. He left the house and went to the Floo hub at the end of the street. After the explosion in Diagon Alley the Ministry had dispatched Aurors to all the transport hubs across the country. Just like here in Hogsmeade. The small settlement seemed to be very busy as it took some of the displaced witches and wizards that would usually shop at Diagon Alley. Distances didn't matter to a witch or wizard who had access to means of travel such as the Floo network, portkeys and Apparation. For a wizard like Hugh the distance was too far to jump in one go so he headed for the Floo hub. The Ministry had restricted access to portkeys after the truth had eventually came out about the end of the TriWizard Tournament and how the use of a portkey had resulted in one death and the return of Riddle.

Hugh was surprised that the Ministry had not managed to kill the story but with everything going on at present many witches and wizards did not know whether they could trust the Ministry to keep them safe. Many witches and wizards were seen organising neighbourhood watches after the blast in Diagon Alley and the Ministry's lack of a response or press release. Hugh noticed as he made his way through the streets of Hogsmeade the defiant look on the faces of many witches and wizards. It would seem that the people now would not bow down to the terror that was He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Some even questioned whether he was behind the attack on Diagon Alley as there was never any floating Dark Mark over the scene of so many dead.

Hugh thought to himself that already this new war was vastly different than Riddle's last reign of terror. It might have something to do with the presses slow response to the blast in London, as the Daily Prophet had never covered the event at all. The news had spread through word of mouth and many questioned why the Paper had no new information about Diagon Alley. It was as if the Paper was waiting for permission to come from the under attack Ministry. Hugh was just glad his family was safe and that he knew at least a couple of people who were really doing something about Riddle.

Hugh waited his turn to use the Floo point in turn as the witch in front went through the new security measures that the Ministry had put in place. He readily handed over the case and explained that it was just some parchment. The Auror on duty opened the case and gave the documents a cursory glance before scanning his wand. He nodded when the wand showed up clean and no dark spells were detected as having been cast. Hugh took back his wand after baring both forearms and accepted back his wand and case. As he wanted to go to Diagon Alley he had to go through one of the controlled access points as the Ministry wanted to control access to the Alley during the rebuilding process. Hugh sighed as he went through the security procedure for a second time when he exited the Floo network.

After leavening the hastily erected security tent he discovered he was at the junction between Knockturn and Diagon Alleys. He was impressed at the speed at which his fellow witches and wizards had gone about the process of rebuilding the destroyed area. Again the Auror presence was noted he wondered why it took an event like the explosion to force the Ministry into doing what it was supposed to be doing all along, namely provide safety and security through the Aurors. But that raised the point if all the Aurors were on policing and security duties was anybody left to guard the Ministry itself. He shook his head to clear it and made his way to the bank. Two large imposing warrior trolls stood ether side of the doors. The troll on the left wielded a large spiked mace and was clothed in a dragon hide loincloth, his face was marred with a scar through the right eye socket. The troll on the right wore a basilisk skin pants and wielded a large battle hammer. Both wore large black iron collars with chain leashes being controlled by six Goblins all dressed in warrior garb. The six Goblins stood in front of the trolls guarding the door to the bank as worker Goblins worked on the exterior of the bank. Hugh sucked in a breath and slowly approached the security detail and spoke to what appeared to be the leader of the guard detail.

"Hello, I'm here on behalf of my client and wish to speak to Grack."

"Bank closed. Leave now." Came the hostile response from the Leader of the security detail.

"Before I finished my client's transactions I organised special dispensations from your superiors please check, you will find that the Bank is not closed to me or my client."

"Bank closed. Leave NOW." The irate Goblin responded as the two trolls lumbered forward.

"Look, speak to Grack I will wait over there after you make up your minds." Snapped Hugh as his temper and nerves began to fray.

Hugh moved away from the bank into the middle of the street making it obvious that he was doing what he had promised. The Goblin shook it's head and spoke rapid gobbledegook to the rest of his men and after a while one left the detail and went inside the bank. After half an hour the Goblin returned with another and Hugh slowly approached the Goblins stood in front of the bank. The new Goblin was obviously some one important, as he seemed to be dressed in much finer clothes. The Goblin that went into the bank rejoined his guard detail as the new Goblin slowly appraised Hugh.

The Goblin Spoke after finishing his appraisal. "You had dealings with Grack."

Hugh nodded.

"Those dealings resulted in the closing of the bank to facilitate the transfers?" Asked the Goblin in a gravely voice.

Again Hugh nodded.

"Come, this is too important to discuss where the walls have ears."

The security detail parted and allowed Hugh's passage into the bank. The Wizard and Goblin passed the teller hall and into a long corridor that went down into the bowels of the bank. After they had passed doors too many to count, the Goblin stopped and opened a door on the left. The room was large and ornately decorated. Their was a large granite table, the top was highly polished to an almost mirror shine. Paintings hung on the walls depicting scenes of Goblin battles. Behind the table sat on ornate gold throne. The throne back was the spread wings of a Phoenix in flight. The seat of the throne was a deep crimson silk. The Goblin sank into the throne and regarded the Wizard before him. The chair for guests was a simple oak chair with a straight back. At the Goblin's gesture Hugh sat in the surprisingly comfortable oak chair.

"You want to see Grack why?"

"Because he was the Goblin I last saw and was dealing with my client's banking request."

"Is that the only reason?" The Goblin growled.

"Yes, that is the only reason, I thought for simplicity to deal with the same Goblin as my client has more business too conduct that involves some of the vaults involved in the transfers to the new vaults." Replied a slightly confused Hugh.

"Good. Grack has left Gringotts with all the gold from his personal vault. How did he become so rich?"

Hugh thought briefly before replying. "I assume from his fee for handling my clients banking needs."

"Lord Potter-Black?" Asked the Goblin nervously.

"Yes. Why?" inquired a confused Hugh at the change in the Goblin.

"All of the transfers have not been finished." Stated the Goblin as he was worried that the most important account holder could make the Goblins very poor.

"Good, my client, Lord Potter-Black discovered that there has been some errors made in the transfers to the new vaults. It is the reason I am here." Replied Hugh.

"What mistakes, Goblins don't make mistakes." Growled the now insulted Goblin.

"It was not a mistake the Goblins have made and because it was a Wizard error, Lord Potter-Black wishes for his vault to cover the fees incurred."

"What vaults have been involved?"

Hugh opened the Case, removed the parchment documents, and passed them over the table with the instruction that when the new transfers are complete, that none of the affected accounts were to suffer and lose gold due to this error he even ordered that any interest owed would be paid from his account. As the Goblin worked through the affected vaults he came to a startling conclusion that the vaults affected were belong to known opponents of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. That meant that Lord Potter-Black was retaining the vaults of known Death Eaters who escaped from Azkaban. The new transfers meant that Lord Potter-Black lost about a third of his combined fortune and a further sixth in bank charges and fees. The Goblin wondered would he also do the disgraceful thing and leave the Goblin nation with the gold he earned this day. The Goblin decided no he would not follow in Grack's footsteps and would be the Potter-Black liaison with the bank from this day on.

"It will take a bit of time until all the changes are made as there is a lot of paperwork involved in the transfers." Stated the Goblin after he perused the supplied documents.

Hugh nodded in understanding.

"It has been a most profitable day." Said the pleased Goblin.

"For you perhaps, but my client does not want his fight with Riddle to impact unnecessarily on the lives of innocent witches and wizards if he cane help it."

"So he returns some of the money he has stolen."

"It is not stealing but invoking his rights as Lord Black."

"Mere words, I know of the clause it has been used many times in the past by wizards to steal from each other."

"It is perfectly legal." Stated an irate Hugh as the Goblin attacked Harry's character.

"For a wizard perhaps." Retorted the Goblin.

"Perhaps." Allowed Hugh.

"You and your client Lord Potter-Black are unique." Stated the Goblin.

"Oh, how so?" Asked the now thoroughly confused Hugh.

"You are almost Goblin like in how you do business, I approve." Smiled the goblin baring his teeth.

"Thank you I guess." Stated Hugh.

"The Bank will be closed for at two weeks at least while the transfers are completed. Here is a Goblin travel stone, which will deposit you in the bank. Use it from now own when you do business with us. Only trusted members of Lord Potter-Black are to use that stone. Even if it is during the next two weeks, as it has been a most profitable meeting." Stated the Goblin as he passed over a stone disk and a small navy leather bound book.

The disk was four inches in diameter and one inch thick. The stone was a pale blue polished marble. Hugh had never seen a stone like it before. Runes were carved into the circumference in Goblin script in a dialect he did not recognize. Hugh opened the book and discovered it was an instruction manual prepared in English with a note for Lord Potter-Black from Ragnok leader of the Goblin Nation. Hugh was startled to see that, he had never met any high ranking Goblins before in his career the most important Goblin he had met was Grack while dealing with Harry's vaults.

"Good day Solicitor Wallace." Said the Goblin as he ushered him to the door.

"Good Day . . . ?" Inquired Hugh as he tried to get the Goblins name.

"Oh forgive me. Ragnok at your service." Stated a chuckling Ragnok as he saw the stunned expression on the Wizard face. Now what to do about that traitor Grack he thought. 'Leaving with all that gold.' He looked forward to the next few years it would be interesting to see what Lord Harry Potter-Black would do next.

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Hogwarts stood a lonely place among the landscape during the summer break. Filch was moving through the old castle with an old mop slung on his shoulder with a pale hanging from the mop head. He had just finished mopping the old stone steps at the main entrance. It was the only time of the year he was at peace with out any sufferable children underfoot to befoul his precious castle. The beastly Weasley Twins swamp was only got rid of yesterday evening at least he could console himself with the fact that the two terrors would never set foot in Hogwarts ever again as residents of the venerable institution. He put away the mop and bucket into one of the many broom cupboards spread throughout the building before he sat down to eat his lunch. Lunch was another reason he loved the summer break, as He was among the happy few who enjoyed the fruits of the kitchen. The Hogwarts elves having very little to do prepared the most wonderful feasts during the summer for himself and the Headmaster when he was here. To day it would seem he was to dine alone as he saw the spread on the table. Eagerly he tucked into a Sunday roast, already forgetting about the odd jobs he had to complete that afternoon as he now thought that he would sleep off the vast feast.

Just as he tucked into his second course of the meal the door to his small dining room slammed open to reveal a flustered looking Albus Dumbledore.

"Sorry to interrupt your meal, Argus, but I have a matter that needs your urgent attention."

"What?" Growled Filch as he looked forlornly over his dinner spread.

"The Ministry in it's wisdom has decided that due to so many students failing Potions that Hogwarts well reopen on Thursday the First of August. That leaves you less than a fortnight to prepare the school."

"I'll get on to it after I finish my dinner Albus." Replied a fuming Filch as he realised that his holiday was cut short by a month.

"Sorry, Argus, but this needs urgent attention. Dolores Umbridge will be here at the end of the week to survey the school to make sure it is up to Ministry standards. Good day I have to attend an urgent meeting of the International Confederation of Wizards as it would appear that the infernal United Nations of Magic are sticking their nose into our business and sending a team of assessors."

"Any look finding that brat Potter?"

"I'm afraid not, Argus."

"I told you the only way to control the boy was to allow me to whip him." Offered Filch.

"I let you do that with young Tom Riddle and look how that turned out after he regained his memories." Replied Albus.

"That excuse is getting old, Albus. Anytime I suggest action the excuse about Tommy boy is rolled out. All that boy needs is a good whipping. Potter has you wrapped around his finger he is probably off with Granger, Weasley, or Lovegood rutting like dogs in the Italian Riviera all the while laughing as you fruitlessly search for him."

"Enough, Argus, again you go to far." Replied an angry Albus Dumbledore. "You are stuck in the past when corporal punishment was still allowed"

Filch growled under his breath but did not correct the Headmaster.

It was always the same with the cantankerous caretaker. Albus would never fire the man, as the only magical talent he possessed was an annoying talent for resisting memory charms. And too many questions would be asked if he was to turn up dead. Albus shook his head as the crafty man finished his dinner as they had their discussion. Umbridge coming back was a problem and where was his two heads of House Snape and McGonagall. They should have been back this morning to prepare for the early opening of the school as the Ministry planned for the N.E.W.T. and O.W.L. students to repeat the whole year again all because of Snape's complete failure to teach the subject to the Ministry's high standard. Finding Snape's burnt wand at the destroyed Granger residence was puzzling to say the least. Albus massaged the oncoming headache as he left Argus once he was sure the caretaker was attending to the castle. He just needed a short lament from Fawkes to sooth his aching head.

HPHGHPHGHPHGHPHGHP

Earlier that day the ferry from Holyhead arrived in to Dun Laoghaire harbour. A sleek black estate car disembarked and made it's way into Dublin city centre. Customs were told far to late to stop the driver of the car with the strange English registration. The Gardai were reluctant to stop the two hundred or so English registered cars that disembarked from the ferry because the British police had reported that one of them was observed speeding. If the driver of the car was a criminal it was highly probable that they had changed cars already. The Gardai were inundated with requests from English nationals forced to land at Dublin or Shannon Airports due to the fact that England was a no fly zone until it was determined what had caused so many planes to crash over London. Therefore they did not have the resources to hunt down one black car with a funny registration plate that may not even be on the car any more.

Frank Granger pulled over and parallel parked on a quiet side street behind Rathmines village, a suburb to the south of the city centre. Frank glanced into the rear view mirror and wished he had his camera because the scene of the three woman asleep on the back seat was worth recording for prosperity. Hermione was asleep in the centre with Jane's head lying on her shoulder and Professor McGonagall was snuggled up to Hermione on the other, her mouth ajar slightly with drool dripping out of the strict woman. Frank glanced across at Harry he was asleep with his head lying on the head rest his back against the door the rifle was lying beside him with both safeties on. Frank wondered how the authorities didn't see the dangerous looking weapon but did not dwell on it.

Frank sat in the car pondering what to do next his mind drifted over what happened last night. He was rudely awakened by Harry's shout in his head. Harry sent an image of what had happened to Jane at the front door, of how the man in the suit seemed to control her and how she was exposed as she slipped into unconsciousness as his daughter saved her life. Frank was startled to realise on reflection that he got some of Harry's thoughts on the scene. How Harry was outraged that the man had used Jane to gain access to the house. He also was startled to realise that Harry was embarrassed at seeing Jane exposed in such away as he now thought of her as his Mother-in-law with great fondness due to her acceptance of his relationship with Hermione. Frank found he was pleased with Harry's handling of his Potion's Professor, Severus Snape, and the man's leering at his unconscious wife. Frank was startled at the rage that was flowing through Harry and the fact that Harry considered Jane to be a mother figure in his life as he missed his own mother Lily Potter and was thoroughly disgusted by Snape's apparent arousal at Jane's unfortunate position.

Frank learnt that from Harry's point of view it did not matter whether it was Jane or Lily, sprawled on the floor to Snape's leers he would try and protect them while they were vulnerable. The only reason that Snape was still alive was that Harry wanted to get his sleeping wife's opinion on the matter and a suitable punishment for the wizard who brought about last nights troubles for Harry was convinced that the wizard was wholly responsible.

Frank smiled at the thought of what punishment his daughter would unleash on the prisoner in the boot. Frank glanced around the street and decided it was not worth opening the rear hatch to inflict damage on the vile man himself as that might attract unwanted attention. Frank was startled to realise that Harry loved Jane as if she was his own mother. He also was startled to learn a little bit about Harry's childhood at number four. Frank was amazed at the amount of information and thoughts that could be transmitted in that brief message before Harry sphered Jane up to the Master bedroom. Last night Frank had no time to think but now as he mulled over the options before him he decided that Hermione could not of found a better life mate. Frank smiled as he realised that he received a gift that no other father ever received a glimpse in to the mind of the husband of their daughter. Frank decided that he would do anything possible to help Harry as from now on he considered him to be a son he never had.

Frank was pulled from his thoughts as Harry stretched beside him. Harry yawned and asked where they were. Frank told him of their current location and asked Harry to mind the others while he went to see if he could phone someone he knew that might be able to help them out. Harry nodded and rubbed his tired eyes he looked like a man with a bad hangover and needed more rest. Frank decided from the brief glimpse of Harry's mind and motivation that he would trust him to stay awake while he headed to the nearest shopping area for Coffee and then a public phone. As he left the car he noticed Harry get out and walk around to the drivers side. Frank thought that maybe the driver side offered the best position to use the cars wing mirrors and also Harry would not need to change seat to make a quick get away if the situation warranted it.

Frank's first port of call was a bank to change some of his Sterling pounds into Punts. After his visit to the bureau de change he left with a quantity of Punts, the Irish pound. Frank then went and found a small café for some coffee. He thought that after last night he needed the caffeine fix. He read the complementary Irish Times to find out what was going on outside of England. He discovered that the British Government was staying silent on the strange blast in London. The world economy was slowly recovering from the almost total collapse of the stock markets worldwide. It would seem that the Americans were deploying one of their fleets to the North Atlantic in response to the apparent attack on London. Many countries offered aid and support to the British. According to the paper Ireland along with France were helping stranded British citizens forced to divert because the isle of England, Scotland and Wales was now a no fly zone. French, German and American Fighter planes were in the air just out side the exclusion zone to prevent any passenger jets from straying into the air over the island, as no one knew what had caused so many modern aircraft to fall out of the sky.

Ten Downing Street had declared a state of emergency. The army was being deployed to help the emergency services with the search through the many plane crashes around the Greater London area. Frank frowned at that, as he had not seen any Police or Army presence as he rushed to the Ferry. It would appear that the Press were under the government's control. Frank folded up the paper and got up to pay. As he paid the cashier he inquired where the nearest pay phone was. He was directed to a phone-box across the street away from where the car was parked. As he read the paper an idea formed in his head of whom he should ring. Hoping his memory was accurate and that his friend hadn't moved he dialled a number from memory. When he heard an answer he fed the phone with a couple of quid.

"Hello." Answered the Phone.

"Hello, Paddy, its Frank."

"Hello, Frank. What's the story?"

"I need help, Paddy."

"Fuck, it must be bad if you're asking for help off of me."

"None of that now, Paddy."

"Sorry, Frank. What sort of help do you need?"

"I can't discuss it over the phone."

"Frank! What sort of shit are you in?"

"Nothing like that, I'm not the one who is wanted by the British Police, Boyle, alright."

"Chill, Frank, I didn't mean to upset you."

"A teacher of Hermione's brought trouble to the house, we had to split, okay?"

"Fuck it must be bad if you skipped the country."

"Patrick Dermot Boyle, last night makes what we did look like tiddlywinks, alright."

"Fuck, does the lovely missus know about the nixers on the side?"

"So, Boyle, can you help put us up for a while?"

"How many? I'll have to organise something."

"Nothing shady, I don't want to have to worry about your associates as well as the shit I'm in."

"Fuck what are you involved with?"

"Boyle, You owe me, I need a place for us to stay no questions asked in a very quiet location, alright."

"Where are you."

"Dublin."

"Dublin is a big place want to narrow that down for me."

"No."

"Alright then ring me when you get to Cashel."

"Fine"

Frank then slammed down the phone and collected his thoughts. When Frank was in school, he fell in with the wrong crowd. His parents were not happy and sent him to an all boys' boarding school; needless to say he hated it. But he did bump into Patrick Paddy Boyle the son of one of the most successful horse breeders in the British Isles. They became friends, but Paddy tested the relationship when he got hooked on hard drugs. Paddy was marginalized in the school due to the fact he was Irish and found solace getting high and drunk. One night while Paddy was very drunk he insulted the local drug dealer, a complete mad man. The drug dealer had issued a death threat that both of them believed to be a promise. Needless to say, Frank had helped him escape from the drug dealer and get out of England. While on the run Frank had got his friend sober and clean. The month he had spent trying to sober Paddy had taken it's toll on the friendship.

After seeing what it had done to his friend Paddy, Frank swore off drugs in any form. He only drank occasionally when stressed. Paddy had given him a phone number in case he ever needed help himself. Frank went to throw away the number but thought better of it and held on to it. He had committed the phone number to memory. Frank went to Dentist school, settled into his studies, and fell in love with Jane. He thought he had put the past behind him but this current situation opened those old wounds. Sighing that his present would meet his past he went back to the car.

Frank frowned when he spotted the car. The rear hatch was up and Crookshanks was sitting on Hermione's lap as she sat on the floor of the boot. Minerva was stood stretching out the kinks in her body. The back door near the footpath was open and a quite withdrawn Jane sat with her feet on the pavement. Frank wondered why no one had passed a glance at the strange sight. As he got closer he felt that he had passed through some sort of field as his body tingled from pins and needles.

Crookshanks leapt from Hermione's lap and lightly landed on the ground. Hermione got up and hugged Frank in greeting. Hermione explained that she had contacted Hugh and told him she would contact him again in about a week. Frank turned to see how Jane was faring but she was staring off into space. Minerva yawned and got back into the car, Jane shuffled into the centre of the car. Harry was asleep in the front passenger seat his head resting on a small conjured pillow. At Franks glance Hermione explained that she had recharged her reserves enough to do small amounts of magic and she was proficient enough to do magic around electronic equipment.

Hermione guided Frank to the back seat, took the driver seat, and explained that of all of them she was the most alert as it was now about midday. Frank told her she was to head for Cashel, County Tipperary. He supplied two map books he had bought. The first was a road atlas of Ireland the second was a street atlas of Dublin. Even though he had drank coffee he found that he was drowsy when he sat beside Jane, who seemed to shuffle closer to Minerva. From the brief glimpse of Harry's mind and thoughts he trusted Hermione to be able to get them safely to Cashel and maybe a sanctuary.

HPHGHPHGHPHGHPHGHP

Paul Johnson pulled the robe tightly around his shoulders as he grabbed his travel bag. He hated using Portkeys of any description instead he preferred Floo travel. But the British Ministry in its infinite wisdom had decided that the Floo network was to be restricted to domestic duties and banned any international connections therefore he was forced to use a Portkey. He met the Bureau's Quartermaster and was issued with two Portkeys the return trip to Paris and an emergency Portkey that would whisk him back to the States and safety. The Quartermaster also furnished him with a full field kit for operating behind enemy lines. At his questioning glance the Quartermaster said that the Director wanted him to be prepared for anything and the fact that the British were liable to do anything at present.

Steeling himself for his trip he activated the Portkey and grimaced. He felt the pull on his navel and felt the pressure on his stomach as he fought vainly to keep his lunch down. His feet went from under him and his contact with French soil was flat on his back. He groaned in agony at the terrible long distance trip all the while complaining that he was jinxed. A person helped him to his feet. The man was tall and well built with a tanned complexion; he wore a pair of sunglasses obscuring his eyes. His head was shaved completely and there was a tribal tattoo on the back of his head in a dull navy colour. He wore about four or five day's worth of stubble on his chin. He spoke with a South Africa accent.

"Hello, you must be Johnson the Yank." Enquired the man.

Johnson did not speak for fear of throwing up but nodded and shook the man's hand.

"I understand you look a little green around the gills, the names Jeffrey Archer, South African Hit Wizard." Said the man, Archer.

Johnson nodded and composed himself.

"Sorry about that, I hate Portkey travel." Apologised Johnson

Archer chuckled at that.

"Agent, Paul Johnson, Federal Bureau of Investigation, Magical Division. Nice to meet you."

"So I guess we are working on this British thing together?"

"Yeah, I guess, just found out this afternoon my time. Bye the way what time is it locally?"

"About eleven twenty p.m. So that would mean London would be about twenty past ten."

"I hate jumping through Time zones its almost as bad as jet lag."

Archer laughed at that and guided him to the safe house the International Inspection Team was using to conduct this investigation. Archer explained that he had found out about this job around the same time Johnson did. The pair silently moved through the Magical quarter of Paris towards the Safe house. The sky was clear and their was a gentle breeze to cool the warm night. Archer led him down a dark side alley and knocked a particular melody on the door. A Small Mexican Woman answered the door. She had short brown hair, haunting black eyes and walked with a cane. She asked Archer a question. She was satisfied with Archers response and stepped aside to allow the two men pass into the house. The woman limped into a room on the left, Johnson realised that it was a small kitchen. The woman set the kettle to boil and offered the men tea or coffee. Johnson decided against coffee at this hour of the night, as he had to adjust to the new time zone.

The woman explained that she was designated as the leader by the United Nations of Magic because she was the Mexican head of the Auror's and was to old for fieldwork. Therefore she would be staying at the safe house and sort through the gathered evidence. Her name was Selma Cuaron and Johnson's eyes widened in surprise that the Mexicans would allow their best ever Auror out of the country because she was viewed as a hero for her service to the Mexican Magical Community. She held the equivalent honour as the British Order of Merlin first class.

After they had got there beverages Selma guided the two men into the comfortable sitting room to meet the rest of the team. An athletic woman sat sprawled in a large fluffy armchair reading a report she waved her hand in greeting and ignored the newcomers. She was tall and well tanned she wore a pair of cream beach shorts and a baggy baby blue T-shirt. Johnson thought she had stumbled in off a beach. Selma said that she was an Australian undercover Auror from the Australian Special Magical Forces. Her sun-bleached hair was pulled into a messy ponytail. Selma introduced her as a Miss Kylie Jane Dundee, and went on to explain that she was made a member to remove her from Australia while a case was closed as she was a star witness and would likely crack under protective custody. Johnson agreed that he would likely crack if he was forced to suffer a protective custody spell. As it was just like being locked up in prison with nothing to do but stare at the four walls.

Johnson was then shown to his room upstairs to unpack. The room was simply decorated with a cream wallpaper a small single bed, pine bedside table and a wardrobe. After unpacking he went back down stairs to enquire about the last team member the representative from China. Selma said that Operative Wu would be joining them in about a week as he still had some bits and pieces he needed to finish before joining the team. The following morning Johnson was briefed on the current situation by Kylie the bubbly Australian. He learnt that their seemed to be a Potion nullifying ward of some sort covering the British Isles and stretching as far south as Normandy in Northern France. It would appear that no one could successfully brew Potions at all. And any imported Potions would spoil after a short spell. Kylie had discovered that the ward seemed to be centred on London. Johnson was disgusted when he learnt that the British Ministry was forcing the pupils of O.W.L. and N.E.W.T.s to repeat a year because of this unusual ward. And were forcing schools such as Hogwarts to open a month early. Johnson thought that a better solution would maybe test the pupils again in a country away from the strange ward, as the British Isles seemed to be the only place affected by the ward.

Selma smiled at that suggestion and said that if they could have a preliminary report complete before the Ministry forced the pupils to needlessly repeat the school year. The United Nations of Magic could step in and assist the ordinary decent British witch or wizard. And stop all these ridiculous steps the British Ministry were taking. Johnson's jaw dropped as he realised that depending on the report the United Nations of Magic would remove the whole British Ministry from power if it were found that they were incompetent or corrupt and at this early stage it was a very strong possibility.

HPHGHPHGHPHGHPHGHP

The room was a wide circular room; a spiral staircase arose from the centre. A large cherry wood wardrobe stood between a pair of windows. The bed was covered by a painter's sheet; a large black tarp covered the wardrobe. All the rest of the furniture was stacked together underneath another painters sheet. To the left of the stairs stood a small paint splattered wooden scaffold. A girl lay upon the scaffold with dirty blonde waist length hair tied up into a ponytail. Lying beside her was an assortment of paints. She used her wand like a paintbrush. Already she had finished two faces on her ceiling. One was a girl with fiery red hair and bright brown eyes shining with mirth. The second face was a boy wearing a smile with his eyes closed, his blond hair faded into the deep blue of the background. She was working on a third face with the only defining feature complete was the nose. The paint seemed to be alive and gave the two finished faces some vibrancy. However these were not magical portraits for they did not move.

Light was provided from two large floating balls of light. The sunlight streaming in the window was not good enough for the artist upon the scaffold. She paused in her meticulous work to consult a wizard album. She sipped from the half full bottle of Butterbeer as she studied the ceiling. Nodding happily that the two likenesses were accurate she resumed her work. The noise from the room below was kept out by a soundproof ward across the opening for the circular staircase. One of the windows opened of it's own accord and allowed entry for a small owl. The girl petted the small owl and offered it a treat as she removed the piece of rolled up parchment. It was addressed as follows.

Luna Lovegood

Painters Scaffold,

Her bedroom.

Luna opened the parchment and read.

Dear Luna,

This letter is to inform you that Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry will open one month early on the 1st of August 1996 instead of the normal date of September the first. The Ministry is taking this proactive step to improve your education. Headmistress Umbridge will continue to head this fine institute of learning. Your head of house will contact you in the next few days with your required reading lists and any other miscellaneous supplies you will need for your up coming school year.

Yours Sincerely

Griselda Marchbanks.

Wizarding Education Authority.

Luna frowned wondering why the Ministry would change the term times especially when the failing potions were effecting the poor Wrackspurt. The poor things were multiplying and obviously infecting the Ministry. Well at least she would meet up with her friends very soon. Deciding that the letter was unimportant she went back to her painting of her friends. She would have to work quicker at it as she was returning to school early. She would be lucky to finish it in time for the start of the new term.

HPHGHPHGHPHGHPHGHP

The Ministry of Magic was a hive of activity. Minister Scrimgeour was shuffling staff around to fill the gaps the missing personnel revealed. To that end he felt that with the massive failing grades in N.E.W.T.s and O.W.L.s he felt that a guiding hand was needed and reappointed Delores Umbridge as Headmistress of Hogwarts. Dumbledore was to be demoted to the position of Potions Master in an attempt to rectify the apparent failure of the previous teacher of the subject Severus Snape. It was very telling that Snape had not responded to the Ministry's wish to interview the sacked Potions Master. So far the Ministry failed in finding a Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor as Umbridge's time would be occupied by raising the standards of the School in education and moral fibre of the residents. The Board of Governors had lost over half its panel and was thus disbanded by the Ministry and a new department headed by the respected Griselda Marchbanks assumed control of the school. A volunteer force of common witches and wizards bolstered the Aurors. They had to go through a simple exam; it involved displaying both arms bare of any dark mark and swearing a wizard's oath to the Ministry. The oath was to the effect: protect the Ministry and its subjects.

In the new department a printing press was busily churning out letters similar to Luna Lovegood's one. The letters just needed the pupils name added. Four interns fresh out of school were filling out the letters and using the address charm to post them with Ministry owls. The address charm was an ingenious charm that was invented so that the Ministry could issue letters even if they did not know where the recipient would be. An example of this is the letter Hogwarts sent to Harry Potter addressed to the Cupboard under the stairs. The School did not know Harry lived under the stairs when addressing the letter but the magic of the charm divined Harry's exact location for a speedy delivery. The address charm used the recipient's magic to divine the address so that the delivery owl could deliver the message. For secure communication where secrecy was paramount the delayed address charm was used, in this instance the Address did not appear on the parchment at all and the delivery owl was only informed while in flight usually after five minutes after being sent.

The fifth intern was going through the list of Hogwarts attendees and using the address charm to issue the letters. However the charm would not work on some names. Those names were added to a list of undelivered letters. It was only after the office was informed by Madam Bones that her niece Susan Bauer, nee Bones, was dead, did they realise that some of the names on the list were dead. Madam Bones supplied a list of the dead from Diagon Alley.

The names on the list of the dead that tallied with the list of unsent letters were as follows:

Bauer (Bones), Susan. Brocklehurst, Mandy. Coote, Ritche, Goyle, Gregory. Parkinson, Pansy. Whitby, Kevin.

The names were struck off the list of unsent letters. But that left question marks on some of the other names. The address charm only partially worked for Ronald Weasley. The spell only returned a strange faded grey address in a long dead language. This was most puzzling. The letter to Draco Malfoy stated that the address was too far to divine, this was also very strange as the charm had a range of about five hundred miles. That meant that Draco Malfoy had managed to leave the country undetected. The Charm failed to work for Hermione Granger at all, but she was not listed as deceased. What was most worrying was the fact that the address charm also failed for Harry Potter as well. The intern sat back in shock as it indicated that the Boy-Who-Lived may be dead somewhere and this meant that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named probably killed him. The intern felt a chill run up his spine at this thought.

A/N Please review.