CHAPTER TWO: Games

Part 3

At first, Harry was too stunned to react. What Dumbledore had just said was so much in contradiction to his, he thought, brilliant move that he couldn't imagine what must have happened for Wormtail to come out victorious against anyone. The rat had seemed so weak, so pathetic in the Shrieking Shack...

"How did this happen?"

"Sirius was careless," Dumbledore said. "Peter managed to surprise him."

"But Sirius didn't go alone, did he? You sent Snape away when I told you about Pettigrew."

"Professor Snape was unable to interfere in time. We only know because Voldemort himself informed the Death Eaters of Sirius' capture during a meeting he called immediately after."

"We can't leave him there," Harry said.

"I agree. Sirius has information that Voldemort will find valuable, should Sirius be unable to resist him."

"It's not just about information-" Harry began, but was cut off.

"Of course it isn't," the Headmaster continued. "Abandoning friends to the enemy is a tactic acceptable by Death Eaters' standards, but not mine."

"We don't know where Voldemort is hiding," Harry muttered. "That, and we're talking about Voldemort. Makes a daring rescue mission rather impossible."

"My thoughts exactly," the Headmaster agreed. "I'm afraid the only way is to trade."

"Trade? With what?"

"Something Voldemort considers more important than a valuable hostage."

"Okay," Harry said, "but do we have something that Voldemort will want more that we can afford to lose ourselves?"

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair. "Of course. The prophecy."

Harry blinked, his mouth agape.

"Not what you expected, I imagine," said Dumbledore.

"Damn right," Harry blurted out. "Didn't you... I'm not even- well, would you kindly explain?"

Dumbledore corrected his glasses. "Thanks to Professor Snape's efforts, we know that Voldemort has abstained from any major undertakings because he's focusing on acquiring the prophecy. He will likely avoid another confrontation with you until he knows its full wording."

"So if we give it to him, things will escalate. Quickly," Harry surmised.

"Most probably."

"And it's possible that Voldemort will actively seek me out."

"I'm afraid so."

"Right, then," Harry summed up, "we can leave Sirius to die and buy more time, or we start fighting the war that we're unprepared for right away."

"In a pinch."

Harry looked up at the elder wizard. "I think the choice is obvious."

"As do I," the Headmaster replied. "Lemon drop?"

~~oOo~~

Harry's return to Grimmauld Place was met with mixed reactions. Hermione, Lupin and Tonks were all relieved to see him. Ron seemed reluctant, as did most of the Weasleys, though they warmed up to him once Dumbledore assured everyone that another possession wouldn't be happening. None of this surprised him. One person, however, did.

Ginny didn't seem resentful, even though she'd had her throat cut by his hands a day ago. She didn't share Hermione's enthusiasm – her brief hug didn't threaten to crush his chest – but gave the impression of being glad he was back. She smiled gently, which must have gone unnoticed by the others, and disappeared into the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley ushered everyone else in as well, announcing that dinner was about to be served.

The meal was a strange affair. Lupin and Tonks were quiet and talked in hushed tones, worried over Sirius' capture. Mrs. Weasley distracted herself from the troubles by repeatedly asking if anyone would like more potatoes. Harry sat between Tonks and Hermione, observing everyone covertly. Once, he and Ginny looked up at the same time. She gave him another sly smile, leaving him to wonder.

He could tell all of them carefully avoided hot topics. He saw no reason to bring them up himself. With any luck, Sirius would be back soon. Needless to say, Dumbledore had already thought of a rough plan. Harry had never been the best in creating elaborate schemes. His plans, if there even were any, tended to be made up as he went along and usually in true Gryffindor fashion of charging forward and blundering one's way through obstacles with brute force. When Dumbledore laid out his idea, Harry wanted to retrieve the prophecy right away.

"I admire your dedication," the Headmaster said, "but I don't think going now would be a good idea."

"Why not?" Harry demanded. "Shouldn't we want to get Sirius out as soon as possible?"

"I highly doubt Sirius is danger," Dumbledore replied. Harry looked at him incredulously. "Allow me to finish, Harry. I do not believe Sirius in danger right now. As I said, he's not just a prisoner to Voldemort – he's a valuable asset, and that grants him a modicum of protection. Besides, it has been less than an hour since his capture."

The Headmaster's cold logic made sense. The other things he'd laid out Harry couldn't argue against either.

He agreed that he needed some rest. He had an important meeting tomorrow.

~~oOo~~

Lucius sighed internally. Fooling Fudge wasn't by any stretch difficult, but it was tiring. He offered a well-rehearsed excuse for moving his money. It was all meaningless, really, just political doublespeak. It would satisfy the Minister, but Plateau and Crouch wouldn't be so easily misled. He would need to come up with something more legitimate-sounding before he was questioned about it again.

The Dark Lord of course understood the consequences of such operations. They were bound to draw the Ministry's attention - perhaps he even wanted it that way. Whatever his reasons, he wasn't sharing them and, truth be told, Lucius was getting mildly irritated by all the secrecy. No Death Eater dared say it, but they were all thinking it – the Dark Lord's demands to contribute their private fortunes didn't sit well with them. Lucius only hoped that the latest transfer would suffice for a few months at least – for he had no doubts the Dark Lord would demand more eventually.

So very Slytherin of him, to pin the costs of war on the rich.

He was heading towards the nearest fireplace in the Atrium when someone placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Mr. Malfoy, I need you to come with me."

He spun around, a sharp remark almost rolling off his tongue...

"I insist," the young woman said.

He recognised her immediately. Nymphadora Tonks, Narcissa's niece. Recent graduate of the Auror Academy... and a member of Dumbledore's Order.

"Auror Tonks," he drawled. "I'm afraid I am quite busy at the moment. If you'd care to send an owl, we can arrange a meeting."

"It can't wait," she said. "Head Auror is expecting you."

Lucius kept a straight face while inside, all kinds of alarms went off. Shacklebolt was suspected to belong to the Order as well. One of Dumbledore's people, he could write off as a coincidence, but two? He could think of only one reason for such direct contact. This had to be about Black.

The Dark Lord would be extremely displeased if he ignored something that bore all the marks of importance.

"Head Auror?" Lucius repeated slowly. "Well, I would hate to keep him waiting."

The young woman lead him to the elevators and they rode down to the second level. Lucius followed in silence as his guide suddenly took an unexpected turn into the Auror Archives. He noticed the distinct lack of the usual sentries just before the impact of a spell turned everything black.

~~oOo~~

A sudden feeling of warmth woke him up – a tell-tale sign of the Reviving Spell. First, he noticed a pair of shoes in his field of vision. He looked up, slowly, and found himself staring into the eyes of the last person he expected to see.

"Good afternoon, Lucius," Harry Potter said, his wand pointed at Lucius. "You don't mind if I call you Lucius, do you? I feel that after our last meeting formalities are unnecessary."

Lucius stood up with as much dignity as he could muster, noticing Nymphadora Tonks in a remote corner of the room. She was observing him intently, her wand tracing his movements.

"Not at all, Potter," he spat out. He couldn't find it in himself to call the brat by his first name, even to insult him.

"You'll have to forgive me this little act of kidnapping," Potter continued. "Precautions had to be taken. I'm sure you understand."

"I suppose I can return the courtesy next time."

Potter grinned. His eyes shone with unspoken malice - a strangely disturbing sight. All of a sudden, Draco's letter from June made much more sense.

"I'm sure you'll try," he said. "Now, to business. You're a clever man, Lucius. You must know what this is about."

Lucius considered his next words carefully. His current situation warranted caution. He was unarmed, standing between Potter and a trained Auror. The boy's casting of Fiendfyre and the newfound confidence he'd shown at the Ministry couldn't be underestimated. And Merlin knew there were probably more of Dumbledore's people nearby.

"Sirius Black," he said. "I do not presume to speak for the Dark Lord in this matter."

Potter laughed. "Oh, I wouldn't expect you to. I can't imagine Voldemort letting anyone else make decisions. I'll make it short and clear, Lucius. I'm asking you to deliver a message from me to your master."

"What message would that be?"

"I want to trade for Sirius' release. I have something very valuable to offer in return."

Suddenly, a thought struck him. Lucius sincerely hoped he was wrong.

"You don't know the Dark Lord, Potter," he said in a neutral tone. "He won't agree to trade prisoners."

Potter's lips curled into a smirk. "Oh, Lucius," he chided him. "If I wanted to trade you for Sirius, I wouldn't be asking you to deliver the message."

Lucius held back a sigh of relief. It was good news, but he was still in the enemy's hands.
"What are you offering, then?"

Potter's next words almost broke Lucius' veneer of calm. The brat had to really want his godfather back.

~~oOo~~

"Waiting for something?"

Deep in thought, Harry didn't notice that someone had spoken until she obstructed his vision. He shook his head and looked up.

"Ginny," he said. "Either you're stalking me or you can't sleep."

She sat on the sofa and looked away, staring into the fire, like he had been moments ago. "A bit of both," she admitted.

Harry's lips broke into a smile. "Should I be worried?"

This time she looked at him and again, there was no hint of the usual embarrassment in her expression. "And I thought you liked the attention."

"Sorry." He tilted his head. "Malfoy spoiled it for me. I'll try to enjoy yours more."

"So what's so fascinating about the fire?"

"I found a new way of looking at it."

"Is that a metaphor?"

He chuckled quietly. "Shouldn't you be in bed?" he asked with mock seriousness.

"Look who's talking," she retorted. "If you're going to a party, why am I not invited?"

"Do I look dressed for a party?"

"You are going somewhere," Ginny said. "And why are you answering questions with more questions?"

He leaned forward in the armchair. "Are you flirting with me?"

She rolled her eyes. "I'm surprised you even know what it means."

"Why, because Ron's..."

"Clueless," Ginny supplied.

Harry nodded in agreement. "And Hermione's a bit of a prude."

"You don't know that," she chastised him. "Assuming things about your friend... Tsk, tsk... You know what they say. It's always the quiet ones."

"I'd rather get back to talking about you."

Ginny laughed. "Are you flirting with me?"

He winked at her, but their banter was cut short when flames in the hearth shot higher, turning green, and next they knew Albus Dumbledore was standing in the room.

"Mr. Potter," he said, nodding. "And Miss Weasley. Trouble sleeping?"

"Not really," she answered. "Just a restless night."

"I find them quite stimulating," the Headmaster said. "A night awake from time to time can result in wonderful discoveries."

"I discovered the Chamber of Secrets one such night," Harry joked. Immediately, he regretted it.

Tact isn't your strong suit, is it, Potter?

Ginny merely gave him a piercing look and stood up to leave, but didn't seem upset.

"Goodnight, Headmaster," she said. Then she looked at him with another of those mysterious smiles. "Goodnight, Harry."

He watched her until she disappeared in the shadows, feeling strangely lightheaded.

"Harry," the Headmaster said, pulling him out of the haze. "Shall we?"

He blinked away the confusion. "Are we going by Floo?"

"Indeed. After you."

Harry threw a handful of powder into the fire. "Ministry of Magic!"

They arrived in the cavernous Atrium, empty, save for two patrolling Aurors. Dumbledore led him briskly towards the elevators.

"I'm assuming that Fudge will know we visited the Ministry in the middle of the night?" Harry asked once they were out of earshot. "Unless we have the entire Auror Office on our side."

"Of course he will," Dumbledore said. "If he doesn't already. I hadn't made this trip a great secret."

Harry thought about it for a moment. Why would-

And then the pieces fell into place.

"Voldemort will find out too. We need him to know we're not bluffing," he said.

"Yes. I have no doubt that Voldemort has an agent, or agents, in the Department of Mysteries. He will know of our escapade by morning at the latest."

"I suppose there's no point in hiding it from him," Harry said, "but won't Fudge wonder?"

"We need him to do just that," Dumbledore replied. "Either he must accept the facts, or we will need a new Minister."

"Contemplating a coup, Headmaster?"

"Extraordinary times require extraordinary measures. I would sooner overthrow the government myself than allow Voldemort to do it."

"Maybe we should do it anyway," Harry said. "Everyone would be better off without Fudge."

"Forgive my bluntness, Harry, but politics are more complicated than you think. In truth, Cornelius Fudge is a capable peace-time Minister."

"That's great, but we're not at peace."

"In that regard, you are right." The elevator stopped, announcing their arrival with a pinging sound. "And here we are." Dumbledore exited first. "I've never liked this part of the Ministry."

"Not the most inviting place," Harry agreed. "Even the Slytherin commons are cozier."

Dumbledore looked at him curiously.

"Oh, come on," Harry said. "Don't tell me you're surprised."

Headmaster's blue eyes sparkled with amusement. "No, I suppose I'm not."

They walked through the dark hallways lit only by scarce torches casting pale, white light. Passing the staircase leading down to the courtrooms, Harry shivered at the memory of the chair he had been put in before his hearing. He almost felt bad for the criminals who had to endure considerably longer trials with their magic suppressed like that.

Almost.

They reached a door at the end of a long corridor. It was a matte blue color, with gold fixtures, but no doorknob. Dumbledore approached it and the door swung open before him.

"Coming, Harry?"

He quelled the urge to take out his wand and followed the Headmaster into a huge, circular chamber. The door slammed shut behind him.

There were at least a dozen other doors in the wall, all identical. As soon as the door behind them closed, the chamber started slowly rotating. Harry tried to follow the door they'd come in through, but soon the wall was spinning so fast that it became a blur. When it finally stopped, one of the doors opened and a man, Harry deduced from the person's stature, walked in, dressed in all-black robes.

"Algernon. Good evening."

"Dumbledore," the Unspeakable said and turned to Harry. "Harry Potter. I was wondering when you'd show up."

He gestured for them to follow. They were led through a room full of clocks of every conceivable kind, from pocket watches to grandfather clocks, some taller than Dumbledore. The centerpiece was a large floating sphere, empty, save for a tiny egg. As they walked past it, the egg cracked and a small bird emerged, maturing in the matter of seconds. As soon as it flapped its wings once, amazingly, the process started in reverse. The hummingbird grew smaller and hid in the egg, which closed around it.

"Fascinating, isn't it?" Dumbledore asked.

"I don't need to remind you, of course, that anything you see here is not to be talked about outside the Department," the Unspeakable warned. "I'm talking to you, Potter. Were it up to me, you'd have been blindfolded on entering. The Headmaster trusts you, so you were granted the benefit of doubt."

"Don't worry, sir," Harry said. "I have more important things to talk about."

Behind the next door was a place that felt eerily like the Chamber of Secrets.

"You don't keep any humongous reptiles here, do you?"

Again ignored, he kept quiet as the three of them passed row after row of shelves filled with spheres of glass, crystal and even some that looked like carved out of diamond or sapphire. The encompassing silence was only broken by the sound of their footsteps, although Harry could almost hear the hum of magic permeating the air. The shelves themselves were so high that they disappeared into darkness despite the soft glow that seemed to be coming from the orbs. After a while, he noticed the orbs only glowed when they were passing them by and their light grew weaker and eventually dimmed entirely the further in they went.

"Row ninety-four," the Unspeakable announced, stopping abruptly. He extended his hand, pointing at one of the orbs. "Your prophecy, Mr. Potter."

The crystal sphere lit up with brighter light for a second. Harry approached it slowly. It was the size of a closed fist, resting on a small, decorative pedestal. A plaque below it read:

S.P.T to A.P.W.B.D
Dark Lord
and (?) Harry Potter

He smirked at the inscription. "You still have doubts whom it concerns?"

"You may think yourself the Boy Who Lived, Chosen One, or whatever title you've adopted," the Unspeakable said, his tone brusque, "but when you've lived as long as I have, you'll know that nothing is ever certain."

"Some things are certain," Dumbledore said.

Harry couldn't think of anything wise to add to that exchange. He picked up the orb with both hands and passed it to Dumbledore.

"Well," the Headmaster said, "as uneventful as this trip was, I think we can agree it's for the better. Algernon?"

The Unspeakable handed him a small piece of metal, resembling a coin covered with tiny runes. "I'll expect it back tomorrow."

"Of course. Good night, Algernon. Harry," Dumbledore turned to him, "take my arm."

Guessing what was coming next, he braced himself for the unpleasant feeling of apparition. As soon as his fingers closed around Dumbledore's forearm, ground was swept from under his feet and a blink of an eye later they were once again standing in the backyard of Grimmauld Place Twelve.

"We need to stop coming in through the back door, Professor" Harry said. "People will start talking."

"And we wouldn't want Miss Weasley to get jealous, would we?"

"Ginny and I are just friends," Harry answered quickly.

"My apologies, then. Good night to you, Harry. And good luck tomorrow."

He nodded. "I will inform you as soon as I'm done. Professor..."

"Yes?"

"What's that?"

Dumbledore raised the runic coin higher. "A small trinket Algernon asked me to test, though I'm sure in his eyes it was just a formality. As you probably know, the Ministry is protected by anti-transport wards almost as strong as those around Hogwarts. This allows one to bypass those wards."

"Sounds simple…" Harry said, "And yet something tells me it's much more complicated than I can imagine."

"Considerably," Dumbledore agreed.

Harry wasn't sure if they were still talking about the Unspeakable's coin.

~~oOo~~

She told herself she was not stalking him. He was her best friend, who had gone through the worst experience yet just weeks ago, and now his godfather had been captured, the closest person Harry had to a parent.

She wasn't stalking. She was... observing. Like any concerned friend would.

But even those rational arguments did little to help her get rid of the shameful feeling. There she was, watching Harry with more attention than she'd ever paid him and yet she was apprehensive to come near him.

Why was she afraid of Harry, who was one of the most compassionate, caring people she knew? He had never hurt anyone on purpose... not without a good reason. But now her instincts were telling her to stay away. It was like he was cocooned in some invisible aura, repelling her. She wasn't the only one who had been avoiding confrontations with Harry in the short time since he'd returned with Professor Dumbledore. Ron spent the entire previous day sulking around, trying to talk anyone who would listen to him into a game of chess. Mrs. Weasley busied herself in the kitchen, as usual.

Other members of the Order didn't seem to be actively avoiding Harry as they came and went, but no one sought him out either. Well, apart from Tonks. Her and Ginny, of all people, had no problem invading Harry's personal space. More interestingly, Harry didn't seem to mind. He shared an easy camaraderie with Tonks that resembled his relationship with Sirius.

Ginny, on the other hand, made no sense.

Everyone seemed oblivious to the abrupt change in her behavior, or they were simply ignoring it. Perhaps they attributed it to the attack. Hermione couldn't help but notice that the changes in Ginny seemed to be following a similar pattern to whatever was happening with Harry.

During her last conversation with Ginny, Hermione noticed her reading a book which, judging by the title, could be a romance novel, but it was obviously something more sinister than that. Yesterday, she saw Harry with the same book – Wiles of Shadow. That had been too much.

In a moment of panic, she almost wrote to Professor Dumbledore. Just what was going on here? How could everyone be so blind?

At the moment, she was curled up in an armchair in the living room with an advanced Transfiguration text on her lap, while Harry had commandeered a table in the corner, now littered with several tomes on Wizarding Britain's history, including Bathilda Bagshot's History of Magic. Naturally, it raised her suspicions – Harry tended to sleep through History class at Hogwarts, relying on her notes to pass exams. The only reason she could think of for this sudden interest in the subject was the Ministry. There were bound to be sections about the government in those books.

Secretly resenting herself for feeling insecure being alone in the room with Harry, Hermione scarcely kept herself from leaving when Ginny walked in and sat on the table, leaning over the book Harry was skimming.

"Are you sure you're not turning into a bookworm, Harry?" Ginny asked, her tone playful. Though it was surely said in jest, Hermione felt a touch offended all the same.

"Just some light reading," he said, drawing a laugh from Ginny. Hermione frowned at the volume in her lap. She remembered both Harry and Ron mocking her in their first year when she'd said something similar.

It's time to admit it, Hermione thought darkly. You're jealous. Of Ginny.

The younger girl seemed determined to interrupt Harry's studies.

"You've been here all morning," she said. "I know you're taking OWLs this year, but there'll be plenty of time for studying at Hogwarts."

"This is really more leisure than studying. I'm finding politics more interesting than I probably should."

"You can do that later. Say, did you know that there's a terrace on the top floor?" Ginny asked, leaning in. Hermione considered swooping in and staking her claim right then, but the rebellious notion died an instant death.

"I thought Buckbeak lived there," Harry said.

"Oh, yes. Sirius sometimes puts a Disillusionment Charm on him and lets him out at night to fly."

"What's so interesting about it? The terrace?"

"This house is higher than the surrounding buildings. The terrace has a nice view of the city."

Harry grinned. "Do you really care about the view, or are just trying to get me alone?"

"Maybe," Ginny teased. She then grabbed his hand and he followed her without protest. Hermione felt a burning feeling rise in her stomach when Ginny winked at her.

Enough was enough. She needed allies. Someone who would see that Harry and Ginny's behavior was simply not normal.

Surely Ron would listen.

~~oOo~~

"You seemed to be getting rather chummy with your redheaded friend," Tonks teased him as they descended the stairs.

Harry smirked at her. "I had no idea you were jealous. You should have said something."

"You are no fun anymore," Tonks said. "A month ago it was so easy to get a rise out of you."

"Where are we meeting him?" he asked, changing the topic.

"He'll come to the Shrieking Shack."

"How did you get him to agree to that?" Harry asked, surprised. "We'll be right under Dumbledore's nose."

"His idea, actually." She handed him a folded piece of parchment.

Harry quickly scanned the letter. "He'll be bringing friends, I see."

"That's why Remus is also coming with us. He's waiting at Hog's Head. We'll apparate there."

They left the house through the back door, where Harry took a deep breath, again preparing himself for apparition. Tonks laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Ready?"

"Ye-"

The yard behind Grimmauld Place dissolved and rearranged itself into the gloomy interior of the Hog's Head.

"I hate it when you do that," Harry said, irritated. Tonks just grinned at him and walked up to the bar.

"We're here!"

Somewhere to the right a door opened and Remus walked in.

"Where's Abe?" Tonks asked.

"Playing cards," Remus said, pointing over his shoulder. "It's Saturday."

"Right." She glanced at the clock on the wall. "Almost midday. We should get moving. I'd rather be there first."

"I agree. Harry, have you brought the Cloak?"

"Yes. You want me to put it on?"

"Better safe than sorry," Remus said. "We're meeting Death Eaters. Can't be too careful."

~~oOo~~

A trio of hooded figures appeared at the edge of the forest, where the tree line was closest to the Shrieking Shack.

"Are you sure we can't just grab Potter and kill the other two?"

"The Dark Lord's orders were precise. We are to agree upon the time and place of the exchange, nothing more," Lucius insisted.

Mulciber was unconvinced. "The Dark Lord rewards initiative, if it's successful. How hard could it be?"

"For all we know, Dumbledore's in there."

"Fine," Mulciber said. "If he is, forget I said anything. But anyone else in their Order we could take."

"You're certain you could take on Mad-Eye Moody? Or Shacklebolt?"

"You may have grown soft, but I have confidence in my abilities."

"We're not attacking them!" Lucius snarled. "I don't care if Potter brought just the mudblood and the Weasley brat. We have our orders and we will follow them to the letter. Is that understood?"

Mulciber sighed. "Have it your way. I still think you're making a mistake to not even consider it."

Lucius ignored Mulciber's last remark and started at a leisurely pace toward the ruined building. If Potter was already inside, he would notice them approaching.

In truth, he agreed with Mulciber, but he didn't dare go against the Dark Lord's orders. He had made himself clear – they were not to derail the meeting, even if Potter came by himself and wandless. Lucius couldn't think of a reason why the Dark Lord would give such instructions. The meeting seemed like the perfect opportunity to remove Potter from the board, but he'd be damned before ignoring his orders and he wouldn't let Mulciber do it either.

Everything was eerily quiet. Was Potter lying in wait for them? Was this a trap? Perhaps he was hoping to acquire hostages of his own – then he could trade them for Black. Lucius had asked Mulciber and Greyback to accompany him because of their combat prowess, which would be invaluable if things went sour, but he would prefer for them not to go there in the first place.

The Dark Lord would likely agree to an exchange for any one of them. While Draco could take up the mantle should the worst come to pass, he didn't have the necessary experience to manage the business assets, at least not well enough to make a significant profit. Mulciber was an experienced duelist, admittedly one of the best Lucius had ever seen, though he refused to acknowledge the man's skill out loud – his ego was already inflated enough. Greyback was probably the most valuable of all three of them. Through him, the Dark Lord commanded the loyalty of a small army of werewolves and that number was going to grow.

Lucius scolded himself for delaying. There was no backing out now. Still, he checked to make sure his wand would slide out of the sleeve swiftly... just in case.

Flanked by his companions, Lucius banged on the door with a gloved fist once, twice, three times. The door opened unaided.

"Lucius," Potter's voice came from inside. Lucius stepped over the threshold with care, watching where he placed his feet. Mulciber and Greyback slid in behind him, surveying the room.

Potter was the only one in sight, leaning against the cracked mantelpiece in a relaxed pose, with his hands in pockets. His gaze rested on Mulciber and then Greyback for a moment. It seemed like he recognised one of them, though Lucius couldn't tell which one. It was likely Greyback. Mulciber hadn't been in Britain in years before his recent return.

"I'm afraid I am unfamiliar with your colleagues," Potter said. "Although from the... wild look of the tall one, I'm guessing this must be Fenrir Greyback. My pleasure."

The werewolf bared his teeth in a dangerous grin and gave a low growl. Mulciber chuckled and graced Potter with a nod.

"Allow me to introduce myself. Jervis Mulciber," he said in a pleasant tone, as if they were meeting at a soiree. "I knew your father, you know."

Lucius observed Potter's interaction with Mulciber intently. Now he was sure there was something there…

Potter kept his face blank, as if holding something back. "Really?" he asked. "Were you friends before you became a Death Eater?"

Did these two know each each other? Why the act?

Mulciber laughed openly this time. "No. Though sometimes I wish things had turned out differently."

"Enough," Lucius snapped. "The Dark Lord is willing to compromise to make this happen."

"Lovely," Potter said. "Let's hear it, then."

"You can choose the time and place, provided that several conditions are met."

"I can?" Potter seemed genuinely surprised. "He is prepared to compromise... What are his terms?"

"The exchange will take place tonight and the location must be remote. A hilltop or a field - somewhere empty, with no natural hiding spots. Somewhere you can't set traps. You will send me an owl with the hour and location."

Potter's gaze wandered up to the ceiling and back down before he looked at Lucius again. "Agreed. Anything else?"

"The Dark Lord will be present during the exchange."

Potter snorted. "I'm not stupid, Lucius. I expected nothing less. You may tell him that Professor Dumbledore will be there as well."

Lucius nodded in acknowledgement. The Dark Lord had predicted Potter would want Dumbledore by his side. "The Dark Lord will come with an escort of two. If your Headmaster is coming, you can only bring one more person."

"The terms are acceptable," Potter said. "Now, these are mine: I will bring the prophecy, Voldemort will bring Sirius. He must be able to walk. Both parties will stand at a distance. Sirius will start walking towards me and when he's walked half the way, the prophecy will be given to Voldemort."

Throughout the short conversation, Lucius noticed Greyback grow increasingly agitated. Now he felt the werewolf move as the large man leapt forward.

"No, don't!"

Potter went for his wand, moving with uncanny speed. He still wouldn't have been able to shield himself from Greyback, but the werewolf was suddenly blasted sideways. Not surprising – Lucius suspected Potter's guards had to be hiding somewhere close.

A silvery cloak fell to the ground and werewolf Lupin – the irony - cast another spell at his creator, while from another direction, Black's young cousin attacked Mulciber, but Jervis was quick and shielded himself from the curse.

All the observations hadn't taken more than a second, but Lucius still paid dearly for the delay.

"Expelliarmus!"

Potter's spell hit him with explosive force, sending both his wand and himself flying backwards and into Mulciber.

"Petrificus Totalus!"

"Incarcerous!"

The combined spells of Potter and the rookie Auror rendered him and Mulciber helpless. From his position, Lucius could still see Greyback, now magically held upright and pressed against the wall by Lupin.

"Stupefy!"

The stunner slammed into Greyback, knocking him out.

"Fuck," Potter swore. "Tonks, how long do we have until the Aurors show up?"

"What-"

"The Trace!" Potter interrupted. "How long?"

"Oh shit, you're right... with the recent fireworks and considering it's you, they're probably watching you like hawks-"

"TONKS!"

"Sorry. A minute, maybe two."

"Tonks, get out of here," Lupin ordered. "Take these two with you, go to one of the safehouses, get whoever you can and contact Dumbledore. You're an Auror, you can't be seen here..."

"What about you?"

"I cast the first spell at him." He pointed at Greyback. "I have to stay. We can tell the Aurors we were taking a walk and were attacked."

"Are you sure? I can-"

"GO!"

Lupin's stunner send Lucius into unconsciousness.

~~oOo~~

"They're going to question us. We need to settle on a story."

"Let's not complicate it," Remus said. "We met to talk. If they ask what about, just say it was personal and they can't demand to know. Or mention your parents."

"It's going to be a stretch no matter what we tell them," Harry said. "Getting randomly attacked in the Shrieking Shack by Fenrir Greyback - what are the odds? And it's just too damn convenient for Fudge. First thing he'll do is accuse us of conspiring with a wanted criminal."

"We'll get through this. We just need to stay calm. I'm sure Tonks is contacting Dumbledore as we speak."

Their conversation was cut short by a loud, booming voice.

"HARRY POTTER!" someone bellowed outside, no doubt using the Sonorus Charm. "WE KNOW YOU'RE INSIDE. COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP! YOU HAVE ONE MINUTE."

Harry tucked his wand into a sleeve and turned to leave. "What a great fucking day."

"Harry." Remus grabbed his arm and spun him around. "I know you're angry, but try to keep your emotions in check. Our chances will be better if you don't antagonise them."

Harry nodded and stopped in front of the door. He raised his hands above his head before kicking the door open.

"I'm coming out!" he yelled. "Please don't curse me!"

After an hour spent in the shadowy interior of the Shack, the light of day blinded him. Once his eyes adjusted, he saw at least a dozen Aurors forming a half-circle in front of the Shack. They way they were spread out suggested there had to be more on the other side.

They really went all out this time.

Walking down the path, he noticed a familiar face.

"Auror Grayson," he said. "When I used Fiendfyre, you guys only sent one squad."

"Shut up, Potter," snapped an older Auror. His uniform was slightly different from the others and he had a rectangular silver badge pinned to his chest. "This is your second offense within a week. You're under arrest."

"For casting common spells near Hogsmeade?" he asked. "Why? I'm pretty sure there aren't any muggles around. And Hogwarts students are allowed to use magic in the village."

"When the school's in session, which it isn't right now," the Auror said. "Plus, we've detected multiple apparitions in this area. You were meeting with someone."

"I was, until I was rudely interrupted," Harry spat. "Go ahead, check inside."

That was the moment Remus chose to come out.

"Don't move!" the Auror shouted. "Who are you and what are you doing here?"

"I was hoping to help explain this misunderstanding," Remus continued, coming closer. "You should send someone inside the Shack. You'll find Fenrir Greyback there, stunned and bound."

The Auror seemed to want to pierce Remus right through with his stare. "And just what is Greyback doing here?"

"Why don't you ask him?" Harry asked, growing irritated. "So we can all get on with our day."

"Go check," the Auror ordered, glancing at one of his subordinates. "I'm going to need you to come with us, Mr..."

"Lupin. Remus Lupin."

"Splendid. Grayson, cuff Mr. Potter here."

Harry caught sight of familiar looking handcuffs. "Oh, hell no. You're not putting those on me."

"Don't make me knock you out."

"I'm coming peacefully, Auror," Harry snapped. "Here, you can have my wand." He pulled it out of his sleeve. "I promise to be cooperative, alright?"

The Auror was silent for a moment and finally said, "Fine. You there, you'll take your team and escort Potter to the Ministry. Inform the boss of the situation. Now, Mr. Potter," he said, turning back to Harry. "According to the information I received prior to coming here, you cast three spells in quick succession-"

"Yes, I bloody did," Harry interrupted. He was through playing nice with the Ministry. "Might have had something to do with Fenrir Greyback attacking me."

The Auror sneered and touched the tip of Harry's wand with his own. "Priori Incantato."

Three ghostly images emerged. Harry wondered for a moment how the Auror identified random spellfire as specific spells. Perhaps some aspects of the reverse-spell effect were only observable by the caster.

"I'm tempted to go further," the Auror said, "but frankly, I'm not going to risk a reprimand because of you. We have what we wanted."

Then he grabbed the holly wand in both hands and unceremoniously snapped it in two.

~~oOo~~

Harry grimaced at the familiar young Auror who came in.

"You again," he said. "Your first big interrogation, eh? And you landed me. I do believe congratulations are in order."

Harry didn't care about being cooperative at that point. That ship had sailed when they snapped his wand.

Dell Grayson sat down opposite him and placed a file on the table.

"Yes, that seems familiar," Harry went on. "I was in a very similar situation a few days ago. As I recall, it didn't go very well for you guys, did it?"

In a display of professionalism, Grayson ignored his comments, refusing to take the bait.

"Mr. Potter," he began, "you've been apprehended today, along with Mr. Remus Lupin, following your breaking the Decree for Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery-"

"I know that," Harry interrupted. "Are you going to ask the questions or keep quoting the law for me?"

Grayson cleared his throat. "There is no need for hostility, Mr. Potter. We are only trying to understand-"

"Right," Harry interrupted the Auror again. "Then why was I arrested in the first place? Do you even care that you have Fenrir Greyback in custody? Or has he escaped already?"

Grayson's gaze hardened. "Mr. Potter," he said, raising his voice just a notch. "Rest assured we are going to get to the bottom of this. Part of that process is your interrogation."

"Are you hoping for a promotion too?" Harry asked. "The last guy who interrogated me got bumped to Head Auror. After I won the trial. Apparently the Minister is promoting people for failing now."

It wasn't a fair thing to say. The circumstances behind Kingsley's promotion had been more complicated than that, but Harry didn't care.

Grayson took a calming breath and tried again.

"Let's start with the obvious – why were you in the Shrieking Shack?"

Harry leaned over the table. "I was conspiring with Fenrir Greyback to instigate a werewolf revolt against the Ministry."

Grayson, looking alarmed, grabbed at the file, but Harry slapped his hand over Grayson's wrist.

"How gullible can you get?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "And you're supposed to uphold the law in this country. Merlin..."

"Mr. Potter. I am asking you to take this seriously. Otherwise I will assume you've confessed to a criminal activity and you will stand trial."

"Fine," Harry growled. "There I was, meeting with a friend and Greyback comes out of nowhere. What was I supposed to do? Let myself be torn limb from limb?"

"So..." Grayson opened the file, scanning it quickly. "Why the Shrieking Shack? It's an unusual place to meet with friends."

Harry snorted. "It's not nearly as haunted as people think."

"Why did you meet?"

"None of your business."

"Fair enough," Grayson said, turning a page in the file. "I'm assuming you and Mr. Lupin were talking when Greyback appeared. How did he get in?"

"Through. The. Door," Harry said very slowly.

"A wand was found on Greyback," Grayson said. "Why wouldn't he use it?"

"As far as I know, Greyback isn't feared for his dueling skills. He's fast, he had the element of surprise. This could've gone either way."

"It's interesting that Fenrir Greyback just stumbled upon you and Mr. Lupin, who is a werewolf himself-"

"And what does his being a werewolf have to do with any of this?" Harry demanded. "Not to be vain, but I don't think Greyback was there for Remus."

"So you think he was after you? Why?"

Harry shrugged. "Because he works for Voldemort."

Grayson flinched. "Mr. Potter," he said and went silent for a long moment. "Why is it your belief that You-Know-Who is again operating in Britain?"

Harry stared at the Auror unblinkingly. "Somehow, I doubt your superiors told you to ask me that."

~~oOo~~

Scrimgeour maintained his usual, cool facade, although with great difficulty.

"Cornelius," he said, "can you imagine how this is going to reflect on the entire Department? On me?"

"I don't know what you mean, Rufus," the Minister replied. "Potter clearly broke the law and was discovered at the scene with two werewolves! If that doesn't warrant an investigation..."

"Of course it does," Scrimgeour agreed, "but your approach is wrong. Not to mention you're usurping my Department to play your games."

"I have the authority to oversee an investigation if-"

"Which does nothing to change the fact that you're wrong," Scrimgeour interrupted. "Innocent until proven guilty, Cornelius. You're trying to intimidate Potter with the same charges you laid against him four days ago. He didn't seem scared then. What makes you think it'll work this time?"

"Enough, Rufus," the Minister said. "I understand you're concerned about your Department and your dedication is admirable, but Harry Potter is a problem that needs to be resolved."

"Cornelius-"

"And I will see it resolved."

~~oOo~~

Moments after Grayson asked his unexpected question, another Auror burst in and glared at the younger man until the silent order was conveyed. Grayson scrambled to leave while the other Auror took his place and proceeded with a boring questioning, the kind Harry suspected had to be standard fare.

He steadfastly declined to give any details when asked about anything other than the bare basics. If he was right, Remus was being interviewed as well and the less details either one of them made up, the better their answers would resonate.

This time, he didn't have the patience to sit calmly and wait for what would come next. Things had been going well enough until Greyback attacked. Of all the hot-headed idiots he could have chosen, why did Malfoy have to bring him along? And what was Mulciber's angle? He played along in Shack when Harry pretended he didn't know him. Well, he didn't, really, but Mulciber gave no indication that they'd met. Was their encounter In Godric's Hollow really just an accident? He seemed strange for a Death Eater.

And now, he was probably being kept somewhere with Malfoy and Merlin knows what Tonks was doing. The ideal course of action would be to get out of here, pin the whole thing on Greyback and hope that Voldemort would still agree to meet. Harry would come back to the Ministry later to sort out this new mess if needed. He just couldn't afford to be stuck here right now.

It had been more than an hour, by his estimation, since his interrogator had left. He paced around the small room, making sure not to mumble anything. They had to be recording everything that was happening inside.

After a while pacing became boring, so he turned to outright vandalism.

The furniture was made of wood – it was easy enough to smash the chair against the wall and upturn the table. He dispensed several kicks but only succeeded in developing a pulsating pain in his toe, so he stopped, even more irritated than before.

They'd broken his wand. His wand.

He had been without it before, but this was a whole new kind of helpless.

When the door opened, he was willing to brawl with Greyback if it got him out of the Ministry.

"Mr. Potter, my-"

The wizard who entered ducked even as he flicked his wand. A broken-off chair leg was magically batted away into the opposite wall.

"Let me begin by saying that I understand your frustration."

Harry glared at him. "I'm not even going to grace that with an answer," he spat.

The wizard looked to be about Crouch's age and carried himself with a dignity someone like Fudge could never hope to emulate.

"Who are you, anyway?" Harry asked.

"My name is Rufus Scrimgeour," the man said, bowing his head. "Until recently, I was the Head Auror."

"So you're the new Director," Harry concluded. "I want the name of the Auror that snapped my wand, if you would."

"For what purpose?" Scrimgeour asked.

"I don't know yet. I'll think of something later."

"That Auror was well within the law, Mr. Potter. By all rights your wand should have been snapped several days ago, on your second offense."

"I thought we agreed that the dementors' presence was an extenuating circumstance."

"It doesn't diminish the fact that you used magic outside of school."

"Don't play the stupid game with me," Harry snapped. "I was found guilty only of using questionable magic, nothing else."

"Circumstances were different this time."

"Were they? Let me think – the Statute? No. I was in Hogsmeade. No muggles for miles around. And I was in danger, unless I misinterpreted Greyback's intention to give me a big hug."

A smile broke Scrimgeour's serious expression for a moment, and promptly disappeared.

"What I'm trying to say, Mr. Potter, is that my Aurors followed the protocol. The Decree for Reasonable Restrictions clearly states: the wand is to be destroyed at the scene in case of repeated violation of the law."

"Well, your law is flawed," Harry retorted.

To his surprise, Scrimgeour nodded. "I agree. But you must understand, Mr. Potter, there is a reason why every new law in this country gets extensive press coverage. In a society as small and traditional as ours, new laws are passed infrequently... and the old ones are resistant to change, even if a change is needed."

Harry frowned. "Why are you telling me this?"

"So that you understand," Scrimgeour said, waving his wand again and repairing the broken furniture. "The destruction of your wand was carried out lawfully. At the time, you were known to have used magic outside of Hogwarts."

"At the time?" Harry repeated. "That sounds ambiguous."

The Head Auror stepped aside, leaving the cell door open. "Innocent until proved guilty, Mr. Potter. If it is found out that you were in league with a wanted criminal, be sure we'll come knocking. For now, I have no reason to detain you any longer."

Harry's eyebrows rode up. "You're just letting me go?"

"And Mr. Lupin as well."

Well, I better get going before he changes his mind.

As he was passing the other wizard, he felt long fingers on his shoulder.

"No everyone in the Ministry is against you, Potter," Scrimgeour said in a low tone. "But unless new proof is presented, status quo won't change."

Harry nodded in understanding and left the cell. Yet another Auror was waiting there to escort him out. Only when they were joined by Remus did he allow himself a smile. Fudge's Ministry wasn't as united as the Minister claimed.

~~oOo~~

The apparition was chaotic, which resulted in a decidedly uncomfortable landing. Both he and Mulciber were dropped on the floor from three feet. He fell on his back, breath forced out of his lungs.

"Well," Mulciber grunted, "that didn't go as planned." Immediately, he yelped in pain when their captor kicked him in the ribs.

"Shut up," she snapped. "I hope you're proud of your man Greyback, Malfoy."

"What happened was not my intention," Lucius replied. "I followed my orders. I am not responsible for the actions of a rabid dog."

"I don't really give a shit," the woman said and jabbed her wand at Jervis, knocking him out with a stunner.

"That is really not necessary-"

When he came to, there was one more person in the room and he wasn't bound by ropes anymore – though he still couldn't move.

"Lucius." Dumbledore tipped his hat in greeting. "Quite an unexpected meeting."

"Headmaster."

"Oh, there's no reason to be so formal," the elder wizard said. "It appears we have a bit of a nut to crack."

Lucius endured the following silence. If Dumbledore had something to say, he wasn't going to stop him.

"I'm sure you understand that at this point old Fenrir is beyond my reach. If Voldemort wants him back, he will have to get him back on his own."

"I wouldn't want to speculate," Lucius said. "My original orders no longer apply, it seems."

"I beg to differ," Dumbledore replied. "You will be let go. Expect an owl later today with the details. In fact, as a show of good faith, I shall up the offer." He pointed at Mulciber.

Mulciber sighed in a melodramatic fashion. "Look at me – reduced to a bargaining chip. How the mighty have fallen."

"Quite so," Dumbledore agreed. "You were one of the most promising students I've had, and that is not a compliment I pay often."

Mulciber said nothing, merely looked on, amused.

"Very well," Lucius said. "I will pass on your message to the Dark Lord."

"Excellent." Dumbledore flicked his wand and whatever paralysis spell was holding him in place was broken. He stood up, dusting himself off.

"May I... have my wand back?"

Dumbledore's smile was more unsettling than if he'd glared at him.

"I believe I'll hold onto it. No worries; I shall take good care of it until the exchange."

Lucius felt his stomach drop. This was just getting better and better.

"Now, there is just one more thing..."

~~oOo~~

Harry and Remus left via the visitors' entrance. Outside, Remus seized Harry by the shoulder and steered him into the nearest nook. He looked both ways to make sure no muggles were near.

"Were you awake the entire time, Harry?" he asked. "Did they have a chance to perhaps cast a spell on you? Feed you a potion?"

"I didn't drink whatever it was they gave me."

"Good. I doubt they would try something so obvious, but nevertheless... I'll check you for spells once we're out of here. Hold on."

Fifteen minutes and several apparitions later Harry felt as if he'd been eviscerated, but they were back at Grimmauld Place. Remus had found no traces of recent magic.

"At least nothing potent," he said. "If I missed something, it's too weak to go through the wards."

The Headquarters was a hive of activity. Dumbledore was leading a meeting in the kitchen when Harry and Remus came in.

"What a pleasant surprise," Dumbledore said first. "I have never felt more glad to have been useless."

"Actually, we can't really take credit in this case," Remus said. "We were released on Scrimgeour's orders. The power struggle in the Ministry is escalating."

Dumbledore turned to Harry. "Harry. Are you alright?"

"Fine," he answered. "Scrimgeour hinted we might be questioned about Greyback."

"More likely he wants to simply meet in private," Tonks piped up. "I got the impression he was shifty. If he's going against Fudge-"

"That's enough!" Mrs. Weasley protested. "He's just a boy! He doesn't need to hear this."

Harry's fists closed and relaxed in silent anger.

"We can agree to disagree," he said.

She was about to scold him, no doubt, but Dumbledore interfered.

"We were not discussing anything sinister, Molly. No harm done. However..." He paused and looked back at Harry. "I must ask you to leave, Harry. I respect your accomplishments, but the Order has a strict adult only policy."

"Will you have a moment afterwards?" Harry asked. "I want to talk to you."

Dumbledore gave him a significant look. "Of course. I'll find you as soon as we're finished here."

~~oOo~~

The Headmaster entered his room a few minutes later. Harry was just putting the letter to Lucius in an envelope.

"There's an old park on the outskirts of Little Whinging," he said. "I gave precise instructions in the letter. I set the time for midnight. It's unlikely anyone will be in the vicinity."

"Little Whinging? I'm not sure meeting so close to your home is a good idea, Harry."

"If Voldemort hasn't found Privet Drive until now, I doubt it'll happen. He'll have other problems to deal with soon enough."

The Headmaster nodded. "I will trust your judgment. In the meantime, I believe you need to make one more short trip before the exchange."

"Are you referring to my regrettably wandless status?"

"Yes. If you don't mind, I shall escort you personally. Without a wand, you are quite defenseless, I'm afraid."

As they were leaving the library, Harry noticed Ginny sitting on the stairs. She was watching him with that new intense gaze of hers.

"Professor... do you mind waiting for me outside? I'll be there in a minute."

He didn't doubt Dumbledore noticed his reaction to Ginny's presence and was all the more grateful that he chose not to comment. The Headmaster swept past him and he walked up to Ginny.

"You are stalking me."

"I am... interested," she replied.

"I am too," he said. "But by Merlin's pants, I have no idea where it's coming from."

"It's mutual attraction, Harry," Ginny said. "One of those things that don't have a logical explanation."

"You seem very well informed. I'm older than you and I don't know any of this stuff. Are you just making it up as you go along?"

"Maybe," she said. "Maybe no."

Harry held out a hand and Ginny took it. He pulled her to her feet and for a moment they were closer than they had ever been before. Then she stepped around him and was gone. Stunned, he looked around after a moment, but she was nowhere in sight. What was going on with that girl? More importantly, what was going on with him?

He discarded those thoughts. Dumbledore was waiting for him.

In Ollivander's shop, Harry witnessed what must have been one of the strangest staring matches ever to take place. It only lasted several seconds, but the tension was obvious. Two of the most... unique wizards he knew stared at each other without a word and then Ollivander suddenly turned his gaze at him.

"There is something different about you, Mr. Potter."

"Well, I'm taller."

"No," the wandmaker said. "Not that. Not on the surface. Somewhere... deeper."

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "You are the expert here, but may I suggest something in yew, perhaps?"

Harry grimaced. "I hoped at least now I'd have a wand that had nothing to do with Voldemort's."

Ollivander's eyes widened in realisation. "Ah... I see. And I think... dragon, yes?"

"It seems reasonable," Dumbledore agreed.

Ollivander came back, carrying a long box. The wand inside was all black and shone with a high polish.

"Twelve inches," he said, handing it to Harry, "Yew. Dragon's heartstring. And I think more than a simple wave this time."

"Won't this alert the Ministry? I'd rather not be arrested buying a wand."

"My shop is off-limits to the Ministry, Mr. Potter. And they must know you would want to replace your wand, yes?" Ollivander said. "What are you waiting for? Cast a spell!"

Harry raised the wand. "What dragon?" he asked suddenly.

The wandmaker's face was a mask. "Hungarian Horntail."

Harry's head snapped around so quickly that for a moment he thought something broke in his neck.

He stared at Ollivander and the wandmaker stared back. Harry had no idea how, but he was sure that Ollivander was telling him, without words, that this wasn't a coincidence.

"This feels strangely like a setup," Harry muttered. Then something occurred to him.

Dragon... Do they want me to do something specific?

He waved the wand around.

"Incendio!"

With control born of hours spent practicing for the Tournament last year, he guided the flame in a spiral, letting it approach the flammable furnishings of the wandmaker's shop, but not close enough to actually set something on fire. He smiled knowingly, seeing the element obey him. He could cast Fiendfyre, some practice and he would control it as easily as this...

The fire was suddenly doused out. Harry glanced at the wand and then looked back up to see Ollivander tucking his wand away. He gave an appreciative nod.

"A good match, I think."

~~oOo~~

It was approaching midnight and an uncharacteristic chill had set over Little Whinging. Dark clouds sped across the night sky, pulled along by a howling wind. On the flat stretch of land where Harry, Dumbledore and Moody were waiting, the cold was further magnified.

Harry stood with his new wand in one hand and the prophecy in the other. Bored, he was tossing the orb up into the air and catching it as they waited. Dumbledore and Moody were with him, standing slightly behind, at his request. He wanted to make this meeting a statement.

If Voldemort wanted a war, then a war he would get.

Harry would do whatever was needed to even the odds. Both Dumbledore and Moody had agreed to train him. He'd already received his first lesson from Mad-Eye this afternoon. It was a harsh learning experience - he didn't even last a minute against the ex-Auror. Moody had him disarmed and bound in thirty seconds and Harry had a feeling the man had been holding back.

He could more than hold his own against his peers, but he wouldn't be fighting Hogwarts students in this conflict, but adult witches and wizards. If just half of what Moody had told him was accurate, he would need to use everything he had to stand a chance against opponents like Lucius Malfoy or Jervis Mulciber.

Mulciber wasn't here with them. He was under guard, with Tonks and Remus watching him. Dumbledore would activate the portkey remotely and bring Mulciber over once they were sure Voldemort would honour the agreement.

The last minutes to midnight ticked away and the wait came to an end.

A small group appeared some fifty feet away, facing them. Voldemort was at the front, flanked by two Death Eaters. Sirius was next to the Dark Lord. His hands seemed to be tied behind his back, but he looked fine otherwise. Harry couldn't hold back a smile at the sight of his godfather, which Sirius returned.

"Harry," Voldemort said, his voice smooth like silk. "Albus. Alastor." He greeted them like old friends.

"Tom," Harry said with a nod. "I could say it's good to see you again, but we both know it would be a lie."

Voldemort seemed to acknowledge the use of his name as a fair retort.

"I see you have brought the prophecy... but not Mulciber."

"We agreed to trade Sirius for the prophecy. I didn't write in the letter that Mulciber was part of the bargain. If Lucius has told you otherwise, I apologise – he must have misunderstood the message."

Voldemort smiled back. His skin wrinkled grotesquely, like wax.

"Very clever, Harry," he said. "I assume you have another proposal, then."

"How about Pettigrew?" Harry asked. "One man for another. You might come out better off. Mulciber certainly makes an impression. I suspect he's more valuable to you than Peter."

Hearing what sounded like an honest laugh out of Voldemort definitely ranked among Harry's strangest experiences.

"You may not believe this, but sometimes I find myself wishing we weren't on opposite sides in this war," the Dark Lord said.

"Yes, what a pity," Harry replied. "The Boy Who Lived and the Heir of Slytherin. Imagine the parties we could throw together."

"An alluring possibility," Voldemort said. "But as entertaining as this is, there are other matters that demand my attention. And I'm sure you know I cannot give you Wormtail. It is not in my nature to aid my enemies."

"Then I think I'll hold on to Mulciber for a while, until you come up with a counter-offer."

Harry clenched his fingers tightly around the wand and the prophecy. He had to rest the orb against his thigh because it was slipping from his sweaty palm.

Voldemort showed the first sign of displeasure.

"Don't take my courtesy for weakness, Harry," Voldemort said, his voice suddenly colder than ice. "You want your godfather alive more than I want the prophecy. There are other ways for me to obtain it, as your Headmaster knows, and you would do well to take that to heart."

Dumbledore placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry glanced at him and swallowed loudly.

"Alright," he said turning back to Voldemort. "Mulciber and the prophecy for Sirius and his wand, intact." This was proving to be more nerve-wracking than he'd expected.

"Very well," the Dark Lord agreed. "Bring Mulciber."

Dumbledore didn't seem to move or say anything, but he must have done something because a few seconds later Mulciber was next to Harry, on his feet, but with his hands bound.

One of the Death Eaters disapparated and returned after a few excruciatingly long minutes carrying what had to be Sirius' wand and handed it to Voldemort, who in turn gave it to Sirius after releasing him from his bonds. Mirroring Voldemort, Harry untied the knot on Mulciber's wrists and, after a moment of hesitation, handed him the prophecy.

"Walk. Slowly," he told him.

"It's been a pleasure, Harry," the Death Eater said. "I'm sure we'll meet again."