It had been two weeks since Sirius had made his stunning reappearance, and for fourteen straight days Ron, Harry, and Hermione had been constantly under questioning from the Weasley's, particularly Ginny and Mrs. Weasley. Ron had constructed a simple excuse for their private talk with Michael Jacobs, although it came with a downside.

"Mum, I'm telling you! He just wanted to know if Ginny was available!"

Harry actually thought that this was a rather good lie. It was certainly plausible. Ginny was, Harry thought, a very attractive girl. The only was drawback was that Ginny, who had quickly been released from the hospital, seemed keenly interested in what Michael had said about her.

The night before their return to school, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were relaxing in Ron's room, Harry rather drowsy after the large dinner Mrs. Weasley had prepared. Ever since the attack on the Burrow, Harry couldn't shake the strange notion that he would see Hermione sniff her food very discreetly every now and again. When he finally confronted her, she admitted to him she was concerned Ron's mother may have been slipping them Truth Potions. She had laughed too loudly after the suggestion and brushed it off as absurd, but from then on Harry became far more conscious of any unusual flavors in his pumpkin soup.

At around eleven, Hermione was just getting up from where she had been sprawled across Ron's bed when Ginny crept in. She shut the door behind her and walked straight over to Harry, who was sitting on the floor with his back against the wall. He scooted over instinctively to give her more room, but she dropped right next to him, their legs lightly touching. Ron coughed.

"So," she began immediately, looking at each of them in turn, "what did he really tell you lot?"

"I told you already," Ron said irritably, "he wanted to know a bit more about you. Not that I'd tell him anything…."

"Oh please," she said, sounding just as annoyed as Ron, "Mum might have believed you, but I know that's not at all what he wanted. I want to know before we go back to Hogwarts, so out with it."

Ron looked at his sister, both redheads locked in a battle of defiance.

"Ginny, I'm not going to tell you. Drop it."

"Fine," Ginny said, raising her chin at Ron. "You don't need to tell me." She gracefully rolled her head back down and to the side, so she was face to face with Harry. She smiled at him; not a warm, friendly smile like usual. One side of her mouth came up slightly more than the other, but both her eyebrows were raised. "I have ways of getting it out of Harry," she added casually, theoretically still addressing Ron, but with her full attention on the deeply uncomfortable boy beside her.

"You win!" Ron said quickly, throwing his hands up in defeat. Harry let out a sigh, and Ginny rearranged her eyebrows to look at him in confusion, with one arched much higher than the other. Harry laughed loudly at that, feeling relieved, and Hermione grinned at him from across the room.

"Fine, fine!" Ron growled. He took a deep breath. "I'll tell you. So there's these seven items…"

He explained everything about the Slytherin Seven and the Weasley's link to him. He misspoke more than a few times during his story, Harry and Hermione filling in the parts he got wrong. It was about thirty minutes later when they stopped talking and decided to go to bed. Harry fell asleep with his head full of the memory of Ginny's move against Ron and…in another way…against him.

Times like this made Harry wish his best friend didn't also happen to be the brother of the girl he was dreaming about.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione woke up early and headed into the kitchen. No one ate much breakfast, all were nervous about the trip to the station. None of them would admit it, but the attack on the Burrow had unsettled all of them. They were to be accompanied by Aurors, but after seeing what had happened to the few that had been supposedly watching over him, Harry's confidence was shaken.

Harry's fears were unfounded however, and the group arrived at Platform 9 ¾ without incident. At least, until they had passed through the barrier and the Hogwarts express came into view. The Auror who was with Harry gripped his arm painfully and spun around as a tired voice called out to him. "Hey Harry! Ron, Hermione!"

To his great surprise Harry saw Michael, Sarah, and Jeff walking over to him. All were wearing black Hogwarts robes, though they had no coloring in the lining. Michael looked extremely tired and was walking slightly slower than Jeff and Sarah, who had a slight spring in her step and looked wide awake.

Ron and Hermione had also swiveled around and shared his mild surprise. "What are you doing here?" Hermione asked as they came to a stop. Harry noticed the Aurors were looking at them rather unpleasantly. The six teens stood a bit awkwardly in their small groups, rocking back and forth on their heels and occasionally glancing at the adults with the Trio.

"Well, remember when we said we'd see you soon?" Sarah said brightly. Michael rubbed his eyes wearily. "This is our mission."

"Wait," Michael said sharply, holding up one hand. "You two can go," he said to the Aurors. When they did nothing but glower at him he added in a low voice, "Do you really want to do this right now? I did not come here to fight Aurors. So please – shove off."

The two Aurors looked at each other for a moment, and then sent a last annoyed look at Michael. They released their grips on Harry and Hermione's arms and disappeared into the crowd of people on the platform. Michael heaved a deep sigh and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"I thought you were supposed to destroy," Ron dropped his voice, "the Slytherin Seven. Or have you found one?" he said, looking suddenly nervous.

Michael shook his head. "No, we haven't got any leads on the Seven. But we do have a new mission." He paused. "We have a…a different job too. We're coming with you, basically."

"Coming with us?" Hermione repeated.

"As students," Jeff supplied shortly. "Your classmates. Transfer students from Salem to anyone who asks."

"We're here partially to watch out for you," Michael told Ron. When he opened his mouth Michael added, "We need you to get rid of the Seven, we need to make sure you stay safe. With you and Harry there, well…your school's probably a target."

Harry and Ron exchanged looks. "Our leader – General Staffon – offered us to Dumbledore for support. He doesn't know about the Seven…or maybe he does," Michael added thoughtfully. "We didn't tell him about it, but from what I hear about Dumbledore, he knows everything. I met him once before when I was in the Aurors, he agreed to take us on. He will be the only other person here who knows who we are."

"So you're just here to keep us all safe…while you wait to find out more about that Ring?" Ron summarized. All three STRIKE agents looked at each other. Michael rubbed the back of his neck.

"Basically…yeah. I – look," Michael was suddenly irritated, "I have something I want to talk to you three about later."

Now the other trio took their turns to exchange looks. "Something else to do with Voldemort?" Harry asked quietly. Michael was becoming more aware of people stopping to look at them; the six of them had been standing in one place for a very long time. The train seemed ready to leave.

"No," he said quickly. "Personal stuff. Don't worry about it right now…lead the way, let's get on board."

"It's going to be nice," Sarah said, smiling pleasantly as Harry showed them to the train. "We basically get a few months off active duty. It'll be great. No fighting, no planning, no…killing."

Jeff snorted suddenly. "Sarah, do you really think Staffon would have given this job to us if there wasn't going to be trouble? You know as well as I do there's going to be fighting, and don't forget, the Seven are still our main mission so there will be planning, and if things go bad, probably killing."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked at each other with that certain look. Michael knew what they were thinking: Killing? At Hogwarts?

"Hopefully," Michael said, not keen to come off immediately as bloodthirsty, "the two jobs won't ever meet. If everything goes right, we'll just hang around the school this year as students and we'll deal with the Seven when the time comes."

The six of them, Ginny having run off with some friends when they got on the platform, hurried onto the train and found an empty compartment towards the back. As soon as they had all settled in comfortably Ron rounded on Michael, who was sitting directly across from him. "All right, it's a long ride so, out with it. Tell us everything," he said in an uncharacteristically forceful voice.

Michael crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. He didn't appreciate that tone or the fact that the person he was supposed to be making friends with was suddenly giving him orders. And Weasley, of all people. Michael wasn't sure what had gotten into him – everything they had on him suggested he was the least likely of the Trio to take charge of any situation. But then Hermione patiently answered his question.

"Ron, I know you're worried about all the business with the Ring of Four, but don't order people around," she admonished him softly.

Jeff waved his hand and shook his head. "Anyone have something to wake me up?" he asked Michael and Sarah.

Sarah sighed and stood up. She pulled her trunk down into her lap and began rummaging through it. She finally found a vial of green potion and handed it to him.

"I don't know what you two were thinking," she said with a sigh. "You knew we had to get up early today, what the hell were you doing drinking?"

"You could've come" Michael said, taking the bottle from Jeff and draining the remaining half. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and casually tossed the empty bottle back into Sarah's trunk. "It was fun – and probably the last time we'll see everyone for a while."

Sarah shook her head. "I was with my own friends."

The potion seemed to be doing Jeff and Michael good. Both were now sitting up straight, grinning. "Sarah's friends are no fun," Michael nodded at the other three. "That's why she's friends with us more than them – they don't drink."

"They don't drink enough," Sarah muttered. But then she fixed a much more serious look on Michael. "Hey, Michael, really, you shouldn't keep drinking so much because of –"

"Stop it!" Ron cried suddenly. "Every time you're about to tell us anything, you change the subject to some stupid thing! Just tell us who the hell you are and why I have to finish your damn business for you! We've got enough to contend with!"

"Ron…" Harry began, but Ron cut across him, shaking his head frantically.

"No," he said sharply. "Harry, we have enough problems to deal with! What makes this our business?"

"First of all," Michael replied, his voice like ice, "it's your family that created the Ring, so it's definitely your business. And second, you're right."

Ron blinked. "I'm right?" he repeated.

"Yeah," Michael nodded, "you're absolutely right. It's not your fault an ancestor of yours created an Dark item twelve-hundred years ago. But Ron, you are the only one who can do something about it. Your sister is too inexperienced. She wouldn't make it through what we may encounter. I think you can."

Ron hesitated a moment, obviously a little taken aback by the pronouncement. He placed his hands slowly on his knees. "What are we going to encounter?"

Michael shrugged and gave a little shake of his head. "Evil."

"I'm sorry we keep changing the subject," he went on. "It's just I'm so used to secrecy it's kind of become a habit. So just ask, and I'll tell you whatever you want."

"Okay" Harry said at once. "How did you bring back Sirius?"

"Well, you were there at the Ministry last June," Michael told her. "You know he got hit by a curse from Lestrange and fell through the Veil."

"Exactly" said Hermione. "He died."

"You don't know much about that Veil do you?" Michael asked politely, extended a hand, palm open in her direction.

"Of course I do!" she said indignantly. "The Ministry used to use it execute criminals, apart from studying it intensely. They stopped using it around a hundred years ago. After that all major criminals was sent to Azkaban, regardless of the severity of their crime."

"Once again, you're right in the basics but wrong in the details. Like the fact that the Veil does not kill the person who passes through it. The Ministry started that rumor to frighten potential criminals," Michael said, trying his best not to offend her again. "The Veil is actually a huge prison, designed to hold the absolute worst criminals till they die, in a reality separate from our own."

"So why would the Death Eaters not all be in the Veil, instead of Azkaban?" Harry asked.

"Ever notice how, apart from Voldemort, no Dark Lord has ever held onto power for very long?" Michael posed. "Not over here at least." He gestured out the window at the English countryside rushing by them.

"Of course not," Hermione said at once. "In the end they're either killed by Aurors, other Dark Wizards, or thrown into the Veil or Azkaban."

"In that, you've got it exactly," Michael smiled at Hermione. "Here's how it would go: The Veil would be full of dark wizards. There would be one Dark Lord running around. So if it seemed as if the Aurors – or their precursors – would fail, the Ministry would employ a new tactic. They would open up the Veil and take out the two strongest dark wizards who were currently imprisoned. They would then ask them to make the Unbreakable Vow.

"They would swear to do everything they could to stop the current reigning Dark Lord and then to renounce the Dark Arts. If they were successful they would be freed and allowed to live the rest of their lives bound by their word never to practice Dark Magic again, and in secret. Couldn't have the public finding out the Ministry was employing Dark Wizards, of course. It's interesting to note that the Vow only required them to give up Dark Magic once the enemy was dead. They were free to use any means they saw fit to defeat their prey."

"That's…that's just plain corrupt!" Hermione exclaimed, her face turning red.

"And as to why the Death Eaters aren't all in the Veil…well, obviously to get the Dark Wizards out, someone has to open the Veil to set them free. Very few people know this technique. Very secret, very dangerous. Predictably, Voldemort is one of those people. If he ever did penetrate into the Ministry and get some time to himself in the Department of Mysteries…we'd be screwed."

"So you opened the Veil and rescued Sirius?" Harry asked. Michael shook his head.

"No, I can't do it. But I did bring it to our leader's attention and he got it done."

"But how did you know he fell through the Veil?" Hermione retorted. "The papers all said he was killed in the fighting, they weren't specific how."

Michael smiled. "I know because it is my job to know."

"So tell us about your job then," Hermione said.

Jeff and Sarah turned to look at him questioningly, as if asking if it was all right to answer. Michael took a deep breath.

"We work for STRIKE, which is basically an underground group that works to keep people safe. A little like the Order of the Phoenix, except they focus only on Voldemort. STRIKE is much larger and runs a lot more operation. Came into existence in nineteen-forty six, after the Muggles had their last big war and we finished with Grindelwald. We've never really been public, but several top ranking Ministry and other world officials know about us. Most of the Aurors know too, but then that's probably because they recognize our agents. Mostly me."

Ron stared at him and Michael felt suddenly uncomfortable. "You were an Auror? Why on earth would you give that up?"

Michael's face darkened and Ron seemed to know this was a question he should not have asked.

"I spent six months with the Aurors," Michael said quietly. "Jeff and Sarah were still in America at the time and I didn't know very many people here. I had a partner, he joined up about the same time I did. We weren't great friends, but like I said, I didn't know many other people. Voldemort killed him when Rufus Scrimgeour sent us on a mission he knew was a trap. He didn't tell us so we would act as bait…I survived because the other Aurors showed up. Voldemort got away and I got this," Michael gestured to the scar along his temple. Harry, Ron, and Hermione all looked nauseated. "That was my last night as an Auror. STRIKE found me in London a few days later and I joined up as soon as they asked."

Ron didn't ask any more questions about his job, so Harry asked him another. He looked a little pale, but eager for more information.

"Where'd you go to school?" he asked.

"Oh," Michael smiled again, glad to change the subject, "Salem Memorial University, back in the States. It's named after the Witch hunts. Jeff and Sarah did too until a while ago.

"So how did you end up here anyway?" Harry asked. "You're a long way from home, did you just come to be an Auror?"

"Well, yes and no," Michael said, shrugging. "See the American Magic Corps, or AMC, wanted…well not so much a spy, but an agent inside the British Ministry, and the Aurors wanted me. I was only sixteen so my parents, that is my foster parents didn't want me to go, but they understood what a threat Voldemort is so they allowed it and a few days later I arrived here in Britain with a bag of Galleons and a suitcase full of dreams."

Michael himself wasn't sure if he was being sarcastic or not.

"I don't mean to offend –" Hermione began.

"Go ahead, offend," Jeff urged her. Sarah laughed; Michael scowled.

"– but why did they choose you?" Hermione went on. "You seem very capable, don't get me wrong, but why did they pick someone so young, out of school, to come over here?"

Michael leaned back in his seat and folded his arms. "You know, I really have no idea. I've asked the same question to myself – and a few others – and never got an answer. Someone recommended me, and it was enough to have the AMC throw out their other candidates and hand me a Portkey. No idea who the hell would say that about me, never mind someone with the influence to make it happen."

"Anyway like I said, I was with the Aurors for a few months. Then things went bad and I watched first friend I made here in Britain die in front of me. Not a fun experience."

"And you really fought with You-Know-Who?" Ron asked incredulously.

"Yes. Let me tell you: Anything you hear about his power is not an exaggeration. He was…he was fucking terrifying." Michael looked at Harry, who had been watching him closely. "You agree?" Harry nodded.

"Its…I haven't really talked to anyone else who actually fought with him."

"When Owen and I squared off against him, there was… nothing I could do. The two of us held our own for a while, but then Owen went down…." Michael sighed. "Voldemort was about to finish me, but the Aurors showed up and intervened."

"After that, I had a few words for Scrimgeour, none of which I can repeat in front of a lady. He told me to deal with it or walk. Idiot. He thought I would only do one. I told him to go to hell and that I would never work with him again.

"I was living in a little apartment in London then, and for the next few days the only company I had was a nice bottle of Firewhiskey…a couple bottles actually. I was just starting to sober up when there was a knock on the door. I was still too drunk to really care who it was, so I just ignored it and hoped whoever it was would go away. Couple seconds later my door falls down and there are three guys in black armor are standing in my house. Naturally I tried to kill them."

"You tried to kill them?" Hermione asked, her voice much higher than usual.

"Well, I may be exaggerating a little," Michael conceded with a small smile, "but I wasn't in a mood to be very civil to anyone in dark robes busting down my door. And I said I was starting to sober up. So we had ourselves a little altercation. It took a bit more than I expected, but I Disarmed and Stunned two of them. I was just about to raise the hostilities when an older man stepped inside as well.

"I was pretty angry, and I assumed they were some kind of Dark Wizards, if not the Death Eaters themselves. But I just knew that this was a guy I didn't want to screw with. It wasn't just that I didn't think I could beat him, but that I really didn't want to have any kind of fight with this guy. Pretty similar to the feeling you get around Dumbledore, you know? A kind of power in the air.

"The old guy told me his name was Staffon, and that he was leader of a group called STRIKE. Said it stood for Strength, Tactics, Resourcefulness, Intelligence, Killer-Instinct, and Excellence – the qualities that embody a STRIKE agent.

"Apparently they were impressed by me like the Aurors were, but they knew what needed to be done to stop Voldemort. No politics, no bullshit. So I said I would on one condition. I made them offer Jeff and Sarah the choice to join too."

"We just finished school" Sarah explained, "And we wanted to come and help fight, but after what Michael wrote us about the Aurors, we knew that it wasn't for us. General Staffon said that if we were willing to risk our lives and join STRIKE then he had no place stopping us. So we headed over here and we were all together again." She smirked, satisfied. "Voldemort didn't know what hit him. Something wrong?" she added, as Ron had half convulsed at the sound of Voldemort's name.

"A lot of people here have a problem saying Voldemort's name," Harry said, as Hermione rolled her eyes. "He did a lot of damage here last time; I guess you Americans wouldn't be as… terrified of him."

Jeff glared at him. "What do you mean 'You Americans?'"

Harry started. "I meant –"

But Jeff was laughing. "I'm kidding!" he said. He grinned for the first time since they had met the Trio. "I get it. He's a monster, and he's done a lot of terrible things here. We're going to try and stop him doing any more. I do have a theory about all that though."

"What?" asked Michael, smiling to himself, sure he was about to say something ill suited for Sarah or Hermione's ears.

"I figured out why Voldemort's such a jerk off," Jeff said easily.

Michael sighed, he saw that coming. "Well, Jeff, enlighten us: Why is Voldemort such a jerk off?"

"Because he never gets any," Jeff replied at once and with all certainty.

"Gets…any?" Sarah repeated slowly, looking close to laughing. "He…yes, I'm sure that's it. And who's going to do it?"

"Bellatrix," Michael suggested, not smiling.

"Malfoy," Harry put in, grinning himself.

"Sar –"

Jeff's proposal was cut short as a jet of blue light hit him in the face, causing his mouth to completely disappear. Michael soon fell victim to the same spell from Sarah's wand as he broke into hysterics at his friend's joke. Ron seemed unable to hold back either, but Sarah allowed him a pass. She calmly put away her wand and ran a hand through her hair.

"I'm sorry you have to deal with these two," she said to Hermione, indicating Jeff and Michael, who were somehow still making strange noises that sounded like laughter. "They may be good for little things like fighting Dark Lords, but they're painfully lacking in other ways."

"It's fine," Hermione said, with a slight smile. "I've gotten used to hearing rather similar things from my, alas, best friends."

Ron looked indignant, but Harry knew better than to contradict her. He merely shrugged and grinned around at them, surprised at how enjoyable he found the STRIKE agents.

Sarah choose to mercifully return Michael and Jeff's ability of speech about twenty minutes later after Jeff had tried to communicate that he was going to go to the bathroom, though without words. They spent the rest of the train ride trading stories and jokes, getting to know each other better. Michael was beginning to decide he liked all three of them – in particular Ron – when the train came to a stop.

They gathered their belongings and exited the train. Michael heard a couple people inquire to Harry about himself and his friends, but Harry quickly brushed most of them aside. Michael knew their appearance would be noticed; new sixth year students weren't common at any school. Hermione led them over to a fleet of carriages, all attached to a pair of ugly, skeletal horses. Jeff touched Sarah on the arm and gestured at them. Harry looked over at them.

"So you can all see them?" he asked Michael, Jeff, and Sarah. "You've all seen someone…?"

Michael looked at him almost pityingly. "We're at war, Harry. I hope you never have to see anyone die again, but…well, like I said. We're in a war. And whatever else I tell you all…killing people is a part of our jobs."

"So you're soldiers?" Ron asked.

"Spies," was Jeff's grunted response.

"But that's why we're here," Sarah piped up. "We're supposed to keep the school safe from, as you so eloquently put it, Jeff, jerk offs like Voldemort." The group loaded their trunks into the carriages and climbed in. The Threstals immediately began the slow journey to the castle. Michael looked up at it with awe, he had never seen any building this large. He supposed STRIKE's headquarters might be comparable, but it was hard to judge.

"And find the Seven," Michael reminded Sarah. "If Voldemort gets a hold of any of them, there won't be anything we or Dumbledore or anyone else can do to stop him."

"Yeah," she said flippantly, "but if we haven't found anymore, what are the odds he will?"

"Yeah, I know. He's only Lord Voldemort," Jeff said sarcastically.

"And we're us," she said confidently.

"And you really think we have a chance?" Ron asked quickly.

All three STRIKE agents smirked.

"I do," Michael said steadily. "You'll see. In fact, you may do more than see…."

Jeff raised an eyebrow. "You want to teach them?"

"To," Sarah made a quiet "whoooo," befuddling the Trio and greatly amusing Jeff.

"Yeah, you think it's a good idea? It's not an easy trick to learn," Michael inquired of the others.

"We'll learn," Hermione said immediately. Jeff laughed.

"They're being hunted by Voldemort himself," Sarah told him. "I think it's a good idea actually. From three to six…the Death Eaters wouldn't know what to do!" She looked more and more excited.

"About what?" Ron asked a little suspiciously.

"A certain ability the three of us worked a while for" Michael said. "Something the Death Eaters really, really don't like to see. Took us a while, but I figure you could learn…hey, that a Knut?" he asked suddenly, bending down to grope around the floor as a carriage carrying a group of Ravenclaws passed by.

"Oh, I guess we forgot Michael's third job while we're here," Sarah said smugly to Jeff, who smirked down at him.

"There's no Knut down there, mate" he said. "But you might check around for your balls, which you seem to have lost."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione watched the exchange with bewildered looks. Michael sat back up, looking disgruntled.

"Michael and Voldemort have one thing in common," Jeff explained. "Lady troubles."

"Lady trouble" Sarah corrected him, while Michael flipped him the finger. "He's only got trouble with one lady."

"Next time you two get cornered by Death Eaters and Werewolves" Michael muttered darkly, "call someone else."

Hermione seemed to have figured something out. "Michael?"

"Humph?"

"Why did you ask us about Luna Lovegood at Ron's house when we first met?"

"I've told you everything you wanted to know," Michael said shortly. "I'd prefer to keep some things to myself." Seeing the look on his face, Hermione seemed to decide he was right.