As I write chapters for the sequels that come after this story I know I'm doing something that will piss people off. And that is the fact that even my 20 year old Harry isn't strong enough to defeat Voldemort; in fact he still can't beat the very top Death Eaters in one on one, straight up battles. I know what people will say, 20 years old and can't defeat a more powerful person with numerous years more experience, preposterous!
In my world 25 is the year of magical maturation. A lot of people who do magical maturation in their stories like to make the age 16 or 17 but I think thats too early. I hate the two extremes in the "how powerful should Harry be?" thought process. Some people, like the creator of Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling, make Harry too weak and normal in my eyes. Other make Harry too powerful and have that power increase happen WAY too fast in their stories. My Harry is still powerful and competent but he's still got a few more years to go before he becomes the wizard everyone wants him to be. Just a heads up.
Also, since not much was changed with this chapter from the original, I posted it pretty fast; one day after Chapter 19, which was posted two days after Chapter 18. So just to be on the safe side, I'm going to remind people to make sure they read Chapters 18 and 19 before reading this one. Oh and review, or not. I mean its not like I die a little inside when people don't review or anything.
Chapter 20 Being Suspended Isn't So Bad
Harry lay in the shoddy mattress known as his bed at the Dursleys. The second day of his suspension was coming to an end and he already hated it. The essays took up most of his time and Dumbledore had sent Sirius and Remus on a mission to India to make sure they didn't help or entertain Harry. That left him on his own with the Dursleys. He still ran, and used the gym in the basement to stay in shape but besides that and eating, he spent most of his time in his room, writing.
The elf had just picked up his essays for today and delivered the ones that were due tomorrow. Which meant it was just him and the Dursley's for the next twenty-four hours before he got another five minutes hanging out with a house-elf as it collected his essays and gave him the new ones.
He was pretty sure he wasn't going to sit here for the six weeks and go through with this crap. He had a letter on his desk for Beauxbaton's written out, inquiring about transfering there. He just had to sent it out there and see what their response would be.
As he lay there, waiting for sleep to come so he could start day three of this bullshit forty-two day suspension, he heard the squeaking of the staircase. It wasn't the heavy squeak Vernon would produce and as far as he knew, Aunt Petunia never awoke from her sleep unless it was morning. That meant there was someone in the house that shouldn't be there.
Rolling out of bed and grabbing his wand, Harry crouched in the middle of his room, wand pointed at the door frame. The door was pushed open slowly, a short figure standing in the hallway. The figure stepped into the room, their hand feeling for something on the wall. Harry clenched his wand tighter and was about to cast a spell before the lights flickered on.
"Hermione?"
The brunette smiled at the dumbstruck teen in front of her. "It's been two days and you already forgot about your girlfriend?"
Harry stood up as Hermione sauntered over to him, stopping with her face inches from him. "What? How?"
"Broke into Professor Sprout's office, floo'd to the Leaky Cauldron, took the Knight Bus to the park by your house and picked the lock on the front door." Harry looked at her, flabbergasted. "The twins taught me how to pick a lock, said it was an honor to help corrupt what was previously thought incorruptible."
"Remind me to thank the twins," Harry muttered, moving his head forward and pressing his lips into hers.
"Will do," Hermione mumbled against his lips.
Harry pulled away, took his girlfriend's hand and walked over to his bed. He sat down, his back against the wall as Hermione laid across the bed, her head resting on his thigh. He ran his fingers through her brown locks, struggling a little against the wild mess that was Hermione's hair.
"How are things at school?"
"Things aren't as great as you might think. There's some serious tension between Gryffindor and Slytherin right now. A third-year Gryffindor was put in the hospital for a few days. Nothing serious like what the Junior Death Eaters were doing, but it was a nasty prank. No one was caught but we're pretty sure it was a Slytherin."
Harry scowled, thinking of ways to main half of Slytherin with a toothbrush. "Pricks are lucky I'm not there."
"What would you do?"
"I'd play pranks on the Slytherins right back, equally as nasty. Target the upper years of course, but let them know I'm not going to take this shit. You guys would probably have to get Fred and George to lead the way for that, if they haven't already."
Hermione opened her mouth to say how wrong all that was but stopped herself before uttering anything. Harry had wanted to use heavy-handed tactics to find the attacking Junior Death Eaters and she had fought him every step of the way; then she had been attacked. Maybe he was right. Maybe they should put the older Slytherins in their place. However, she would debate it with Ron and Neville, not Harry who couldn't do anything in his current predicament.
"Its weird not having you around and the reason being because you're not holed up in the hospital wing."
"Yeah, being here during the winter is a weird experience after four years."
"Harry, I've been wondering...why?"
She didn't need to voice exactly what she was asking. He knew she wanted to know why he had attacked Snape so viciously. Why he had let his temper get the best of him.
"I found out my mom's name by accident," Harry stated, staring off into space. "As a child I was taught to never ask questions, bad things would happen to me if I did. I was seven and Aunt Petunia was on the phone with an old family friend. 'Yes, Lily's child. He's been with us since she died when he was one.'" Harry tried and failed to imitate his Aunt's voice.
Hermione didn't know exactly where he was going with this. However, she was not going to stop him from talking. It was rare that Harry talked about his childhood or his emotions. She figured he needed some kind of release, since he had been holding all of it in for years.
"I found out my dad's name when I was nine. A strange man in a dress, who I now realize was a wizard, bought me an ice cream cone at the park. He told me 'anything for James and Lily Potter's boy.' I remember at night curling up on my mattress and wishing with everything I had that my parents would come and take me away, that maybe they weren't dead, just delayed. Uncle Vernon always told me they were unemployed and my dad was a drunk. I didn't want to believe it, not at first but after a while of having nothing to contradict him I started to believe it."
Although he wouldn't look at her, she didn't have to see his face to tell it was probably overcome with emotion. His voice was already thick with it. "And then I come to the wizarding world and James and Lily Potter are heroes. They aren't a dark spot on my life like they were with the Dursleys. James Potter was a great Chaser and a Transfiguration protege. Lily Potter could do things with a wand and a cauldron no one has seen in ages. And they loved me Hermione." His voice cracked. "They loved me more than their own lives. My parents sacrificed themselves for me. Can you imagine the life I would have had if they survived? The life Voldemort took from me. The life Pettigrew took from me. The life Snape took from me."
His voice got quieter as he spoke, trailing off at the end. Hermione pulled him down into a light kiss. However, Harry, who for one of the first times since he was five, let his emotions get the best of him needed something he never had in these situations. He needed someone and he needed compassion. He deepened the kiss, pulling her up so he didn't have to bend down at an awkward angle.
Hermione, whose lips remained attached to Harry's, maneuvered herself so she was straddling him. He kissed along her jawline before trailing his lips downward, finding a spot on Hermione's neck that pulsed with her heartbeat. He attached his mouth to the spot, sucking on it softly and getting a mewling sound in response.
The wizard smirked at the moan of disappointment Hermione admitted as he pulled his mouth from her neck. With a quick tug he had her shirt of, his following seconds later. He moved his mouth eagerly back toward hers, capturing her lips in another passionate kiss. His hand found the small of her back, where he pulled her against him, her bra covered breast pressing into his bare chest. She moaned into his mouth as his hand slid up her back and to the clasp of her bra. With a snap of his fingers, the clasp was undone and the bra was slipping down Hermione's arms and breast.
However, before her twin peaks could fully be revealed, Hermione put her hand against Harry's chest and pushed lightly. Feeling the pressure, Harry disengaged his lips from her own swollen ones. He looked down at her mostly exposed breast, which were rising and falling with every deep breath he took. He examined them for a moment before his piercing emeralds raised to meet her rich-chocolate eyes, which were slightly glazed over with lust, likely matching his own.
"I've never done this before," Hermione stated, her voice coming out in a husky whisper.
Harry had assumed that Hermione, who had dated Viktor Krum for five months in their fourth year and Justin Finch-Fletchley for three months this year, had at least moved beyond snogging. Still, he realized he shouldn't have assumed such things from her. She was, after all, someone with high morals and high self-worth.
"We don't have to do anything you don't want to." He was sincere, even if he would have to take a cold shower.
"I want to. Just take it slow, please."
Harry leaned forward and kissed her gently. "You know I'd never do anything to hurt you."
Hermione let the bra slip free, allowing the rest of her breast to be exposed to Harry's hungry gaze. Her hands move forward, trailing softly against Harry's arms before hooking onto him and pulling him against her. Flesh met flesh, heat burning between them as her lips sought his. Desire coursed through both of them, tongues sliding against each other. With some restraint, Hermione pulled back and looked him in the eye.
"I know you wouldn't."
Eleven Days Later
The first time they had made love, Harry had been overwhelmed by emotions and needed a release. Hermione had been swept up by the intense emotions, something that Harry had never shown. It wasn't something they either of them were opposed to but if asked both would say it was too soon in their relationship to have done such a thing. However, the past was the past and since it had happened anyway, they decided there was no reason to stop it from happening again.
With Hermione showing up every few nights, Harry had decided to leave his letter to Beauxbatons sitting on his desk. The borin days of writing essays was worth it if he was able to spend some intimate time with Hermione. Not to mention, if he did transfer he would be leaving behind dozens of friends, a point driven home by Hermione.
"Umbridge still comes around."
"If you didn't want to go a second time you could have just told me. No reason to bring her up to kill my libido."
Hermione smirked and shifted her bum, rubbing her pelvis against his. "Doesn't feel killed to me."
Harry stifled a moan by burying his face in her hair, squeezing her tighter against him. It was night thirteen of his suspension and the fifth night Hermione had come to visit him.
"She does though, though not as much as when you're there. She tries to disrupt the training but Susan handles her pretty well. I think she's been getting tips from her aunt on how to handle Umbridge."
Harry hummed his agreement, tracing a lazy circle on her hip. He had heard about how Ron, Susan, Eddie Carmichael and Hermione had taken over leadership of the training while he was gone. Ron, who was the most physically gifted, made sure everyone did the proper stretches, completed the run and did the proper exercises to work out every muscle in their body. Susan, who had spent her entire life around Aurors and Hit Wizards taught everyone their tactics like working in pairs and groups, and entering and clearing buildings. Eddie, who was the best fighter besides Harry, helped them in dueling and all out magical brawls. Hermione, the smartest in the group, looked up new magics to teach the group, whether it be offensive curses and defensive energies or healing spells and stealth and tracking charms.
"Ron, Dean, Seamus and Neville got into a fight the other day."
"What?" Harry maneuvered himself so he was up on his elbow, looking down at Hermione.
"Yeah. Duane Sidora, Malfoy, Barry Chalke, Crabbe and Goyle cornered me the other day and started promising next time I wouldn't be so lucky." Harry growled in his throat, promising to kick the shit out of everyone of those Death Eaters and Death Eater wannabes. "Calm yourself tiger. Ron came out of nowhere and slugged Malfoy right across the jaw. He dropped quickly. Next thing I know Ron, Neville, Seamus and Dean are fighting with the Slytherins with both fist and magic. Luckily Professor Flitwick broke it up, otherwise I think it would have evolved into a huge brawl between Slytherin and Gryffindor. Malfoy is still pissed someone put him in the hospital wing with boils on his private parts."
"You gotta be careful around them Hermione. Sidora is already a Death Eater and the others are all lined up to join. Malfoy is probably scheming on getting back at you guys as we speak. Just because the remaining Junior Death Eaters appeared to have stopped their attacks altogether doesn't mean they aren't still out there."
"I still think we should tell Dumbledore. He can do something about it."
Harry shook his head. "Dumbledore already knows there are Death Eaters amongst the students. He has to have some idea which students have joined Voldemort too, it isn't that hard to guess. He won't do anything about it. He's too passive when it comes to Hogwarts and those who occupy it."
Harry tied his running shoes nice and tight and stood up slowly, stretching as he did so. He didn't expect to see anyone from Hogwarts, besides the house-elf that collected his essays and Hermione, who visited him every few days. Which was why when he opened the front door, he was shocked to see Dumbledore standing on the doorstep to Number Four. The Headmaster was wearing a gray business suit with neon green stripes. His beard, which usually hung to his mid-thigh, was tucked into the leather belt around his waist. A dark green suitcase was clutched in a wrinkled wright hand, while the left hand adjusted the purple tie that hung from the Headmaster's neck.
"May I come in Harry?"
The teen in question, who didn't want to let the professor see he had caught him off guard, decided to reply with eloquence. "Er...yah."
Dumbledore walked briskly pass Harry and into the kitchen. After a moments hesitation, Harry slowly closed the front door and followed his Headmaster into the kitchen. Dumbledore was seated at the kitchen table and Harry, feeling under dressed in his running shorts and long sleeve undershirt, slid into the seat across from the old wizard.
"It has been two weeks so far into your suspension."
"I hadn't noticed," Harry muttered.
Harry wondered where the old man was going with this. He knew how long it had been and how many days he had left. Was Dumbledore here just to remind him how disappointed he was in Harry's actions? Or maybe the Headmaster was here to add more days to the suspension.
"I am here to present you with a change of scenery for the rest of your suspension."
The black-haired wizard leaned forward slowly in his seat, both eager and reluctant to hear what the Headmaster had to say. Anything to get out of seeing his relatives ugly faces more then he had to was a good thing, but he doubted he would be seeing Hermione in this new location. "What is it?"
"What do you know of the soul Harry?"
"Um." The teen was caught off guard by the question. "Only the standard Christianity views of it."
Dumbledore seemed to be expecting that answer, expecting his ignorance on the subject; Harry scowled. "The soul is real. It exist in everyone and is what makes us who we are. It is what allows someone to stay behind and linger as a ghost. There is a branch of magic, known as soul magic, that deals with it exclusively. It is a dangerous branch, and most of it involves the art of splitting the soul of either the caster or the target. It is illegal in most countries, including this one. The most known version of soul magic is the slave bond, which was popular in the Middle Ages when lords would bind their serfs soul to their own, making the serfs have to do whatever the lord wished."
Harry frowned at that, not liking that such a thing was possible with magic. He was reminded that while magic was a wonderful thing that cold accomplish so much, it could also be dangerous. "Splitting your soul doesn't seem like it would be good for you."
Dumbledore nodded his head. "It isn't good for you. Splitting ones soul leads the person down a dark path where they find their values and morals, the very same values and morals that have prevented them from acting in such nefarious ways, mean less and less to them. It can also lead to insanity and paranoia."
Secretly Harry wondered if Mad-Eye ever split his soul. That guy was as paranoid as they came. "What does this have to do with my suspension?"
"There is a branch of soul magic," Dumbledore continued, as if not hearing Harry, "that allows someone to make a Horcrux. A Horcrux is the receptacle in which a Dark wizard has hidden a fragment of his soul for the purposes of attaining immortality."
Harry sucked in a breath. "Voldemort."
"Correct." Dumbledore leaned forward, to emphasize the seriousness of the situation. "Tom Riddle has created multiple Horcruxes. It is why he was able to survive his fatal attempt on your life. It is why he is assured of his immortality. As long as he has one Horcrux, he can not be killed."
"You said he has multiple. Do you know exactly how many?"
"There are exercises," again Dumbledore ignored Harry's question, "and rituals that can help strengthen your soul and make it expand in size. Such a thing is useful if you want to split your soul multiple times. Without doing such things, ones soul can only be split, on average, five times. However, I have read cases of people splitting their soul up to ten, even eleven times, after performing these rituals and exercises. There was a village in India that specialized in such rituals. I say there was a village because sometime in the early 1950's the village mysteriously disappeared, tfour months after an English wizard had set out to visit the settlement."
It was easy to see where the Headmaster was going with this. "You think Riddle was the English wizard."
"Correct. I believe he performed the rituals necessary to allow his soul to be split more times then normal and then when he was done, he destroyed the village. When he killed the village, he most likely created a Horcrux and left it there, hiding the village from anyone searching for it."
Harry's eyes widened in understanding. "You sent Sirius and Remus to India."
"Sirius and Remus, along with Emmeline Vance, Elphias Doge and William Weasley, were sent on a mission to India to find this village and recover the Horcrux, if it is indeed there."
Sirius was a great fighter and Remus was pretty good himself, as well as being extremely knowledgeable in defending against the darker side of magic. Doge was a former Auror, probably some extra security. Vance was a Healer, in case someone got injured. Bill was a Curse Breaker, in case Voldemort had left some nasty surprises in the form of wards.
"I still don't understand what this has to do with my bloody suspension. And you never answered my question about how many you think Voldemort made."
"I will answer the second inquiry first, in that knowing how much Riddle believes in the power of magic, I knew he would use a magically powerful number. I originally thought Tom created seven, but after learning of his trip to this Indian village, I now believe the number to be thirteen; twelve Horcruxes and the one in his own body."
Harry slammed his head into the table in front of him. How the hell was he to save the world with this shit in the way? Twelve Horcruxes, hidden across the world, defended by who knows what. Why couldn't killing Dark Lords be easy? If he suceeded in defeating Voldemort he was going to write a book; 'Killing Dark Lords for Dummies' to make it easier for the next sucker who got stuck with Dark Lord vanquishing duties.
"Luckily one of the Horcruxes has been destroyed." Dumbledore picked his suitcase off the ground and placed it on the table. Popping open its latches, he opened the lid and grabbed something inside.
"Tom Riddle's diary?" Harry asked, eying as the dark leather-bound book soaked in ink with a large hole in the middle was pulled into his line of sight.
"Indeed. When you told me exactly what this diary did, you opened my eyes to exactly how far Tom Riddle went to achieve his immortality. With this one destroyed that leaves eleven left. I believe the items he chose to host his Horcruxes aren't your average run of the mill items. They hold significance to him, same as the places he leaves these Horcruxes.
"As for your second question, I realize that I alone can not hope to find all of these Horcruxes. I need help, someone who can understand Tom Riddle and the man he has become almost as well as I believe I myself know him. That person is you."
Harry stopped himself from rolling his eyes. He should have seen this coming. "You want me to study Voldemort?"
"In order to defeat your enemy you must first understand your enemy. I have many hours worth of memories from various people that will help you see his descent into the man he is."
Harry wondered how long it took the Headmaster to gather all these memories. Voldemort had gone a long way in making sure no one could connect his past-self with who he was now. Did anyone else make the connections between the disturbed yet charming Tom Riddle and the psycopathic madman known as Lord Voldemort?
"Where am I going to do this?"
Dumbledore folded his hands in front of him, a smile making its way to his face; the firstsmile from either of them so far. "At my house. Though I should warn you, if you accept this offer you won't just be viewing memories. I have arranged for Alastor and a family friend of mine, a James Macnie, to train you. Alastor will continue the training in tactics and strategy, as well as improve your ability to fight. James will teach you how to defeat various dark creatures, which as a former Ministry executioner and current Slayer he is quite capable at.
"While it won't be as boring as sitting in your room all day writing essays, I will expect you to be learning and studying. This is a privilege I am granting you, one which your actions show you don't deserve."
"Yeah, yeah, save it for someone regretful of their actions," Harry muttered, mulling the offer over.
It made sense that there was more in store. Why would Dumbledore allow him to lounge around watching memories when he was supposed to be punished? Working with Mad-Eye over tactics already involved a lot of the older man yelling about Harry's stupidity, he could only assume the fighting aspect would be brutal. He didn't know who James Macnie was but learning how to fight dark creatures would be dead useful. Looks like he'd have to tell Hermione to stop sneaking over.
"Its better then writing essays and spending time with the aunt and uncle," Harry stated, shrugging his shoulders.
"Excellent." Dumbledore reached into the suitcase and pulled out a sock covered in broomsticks. "This is a portkey that will take you to my house. It will activate at noon exactly. Alastor and James have worked out a schedule between the two of them. Whenever you are not taking lessons from either of them you will either be sleeping, eating or viewing memories. I will stop by every Saturday to go over the memories you have viewed, which are arranged to go in chronological order. I expect you at the end of Tom's fifth by the end of the week."
The teen winced at the thought of all the tedious memory watching he would have to be doing. Dumbledore stood up and placed the destroyed diary back in the suitcase before closing it. He adjusted his tie before turning and walking toward the kitchen door.
Dumbledore was about to step out of the kitchen but paused, his hand on the door. "Better tell Miss Granger you are leaving. Wouldn't want her visiting an empty room would we?"
With that the Headmaster was gone, leaving Harry with his mouth hanging open. The cagey old bastard had known Hermione left the castle to visit him on multiple occasions. Yet, despite his anger with Harry he had still let the two meet.
I'm going to think well and hard the next few days about whether or not Hogwarts really is the best place for me.
Those had been the words Harry had furiously told Dumbledore before he had left the Headmaster's office. Hermione had showed up as he contemplated whether or not he wanted to send the letter to Beauxbatons. She had been the reason he decided to stick with the suspension and Hogwarts.
Did Dumbledore organize that? Why did Hermione decided to sneak out of Hogwarts and visit him? Did she organize it? Did Dumbledore give her the idea? Was he just being paranoid?
Harry would have liked to have said that Dumbledore had a nice house but house wasn't accurate; it was more like a mansion. Even then, he couldn't really comment of the beauty of it all because he only ever saw four rooms and about seventy feet of hallways and staircases. The guest bedroom he slept in was similar to his dorm in Gryffindor, except only one bed and it was colored green and black. The dueling hall was large enough for him to run in, it was also where he got his ass handed to him by Moody in fights and he went over spells to kill dark creatures with James. The large study, which contained a giant pensieve, he spent countless hours in viewing memories of and about Tom Riddle, as well as study tactics with Moody. Then there was the small dining room where he ate, served food by one of the half a dozen house-elves that took care of the house.
It had already been three weeks into the last four weeks of his suspension. It was safe to say he knew Tom Riddle almost as well as Tom Riddle did himself. He had seen Merope Gaunt and her miserable life, which ended with a broken heart when she stopped using love potions on Tom Riddle Sr. and the man had left her. He had seen the type of disturbed child Tom Riddle had become during his stay in the orphanage, his obsession with his heritage and the way he charmed and manipulated almost everyone at Hogwarts, even having a small gathering of followers when he left Hogwarts. There was a gap in the memories, after Tom Riddle had quit Borgin & Burkes and left Britain with several founder artifacts in tow. Dumbledore speculated he traveled the world, learning as many magics as possible. Then in 1964, fourteen years after leaving, a Dark Wizard named Voldemort had come to the United Kingdom, recruiting followers and striking against the Ministry. Dumbledore had even included his duels with Voldemort throughout the war. He had already seen two of them, with almost a dozen more to go. The display of magic during the fights between the Dark Lord and the only one he ever feared were awe inspiring.
Moody had moved up from teaching him about tactics from the war with Grindewald to teaching him about the tactics used by Voldemort and the Death Eaters in the last war. Harry learned that when Mulciber was the one making the commands he liked to lure the Ministry forces into attacking by only putting half his forces on the front lines, with the other half sitting hidden in reserve. Dolohov liked to put his best fighters at the point of a wedge-formation, which he used to crush the center of his opponents lines, forcing the lines to collapse from the center outward.
James had been teaching him the weaknesses and strengths of werewolves, vampires, trolls and goblins, as well as how to best use each of those strengths and weaknesses against his opponent. He had witnessed battles between wizards and all those beast, seeing what to do if he ever found himself faced against one, as well as what not to do. He had been taught spells designed specifically for each creature, ones that immobilized and killed.
"What do you know about Giants?"
Harry looked thoughtful for a second. "Average height of twenty-two feet and average weight of two tons. Have their own, primal language though can be taught the basics of human languages. Very violent creatures, live in small tribes of eight to thirteen, with numbers varying since they kill their own during violent outburst. Most of them sided with the Dark Lords Grindewald and Voldemort during the last two wars, and most of their numbers were exterminated by the various governments during and after the wars."
Macnie gave an appreciative whistle. "Obviously you know your stuff about giants, same with werewolves but none of the other three."
"A good friend of mine is half-giant. The papers found out and ran him into the ground. As his friend I figured I should know as much about his situation as possible."
"You mean Hagrid?"
"Yeah, you know Hagrid?"
Macnie shrugged his shoulder. "I didn't really know him while I was at school but my aunt is good friends and colleagues with him."
"Really? Who's your aunt?"
"Aunt Minerva."
If Harry was drinking something he would have spit it out. "Professor McGonagall is your aunt?"
"Yeah. Her maiden name is Macnie. She's my dads older sister. Why do you seemed so shocked? Surely you've noticed the color of the tartan she wears? Its the colors of the Macgregor clan, which the Macnie family is a part of but the McGonagall family isn't."
Harry held up his hands defensively, not wanting James to be offended. "I'm just shocked of the thought of McGonagall having a family. I can't picture any of the professors having a family really, not just McGonagall."
"Uncle Faolan was killed by You-Know-Who personally in 1977 when I was ten, he was a Hit Wizard. They were married for thirty years. My cousins Ceana and Caitir were nineteen and fifteen at the time. Ceana is the Headmistress at the Augurey School of Spellwork in Ireland and Caitir is the Transfiguration professor at the Fresno Institute of Magic in the United States, in case you were wondering. Neither are married though Ceana is engaged."
"I never knew..."
Macnie shrugged his shoulders. "Most people don't."
"What about Dumbledore? Do you know if he has any family?"
James scratched the back of his head in thought. "Well you know about his brother Aberforth right?"
"Yeah he did something with goats right?"
The Slayer laughed. "I asked Aunt Minerva about that. Apparently Aberforth got a little drunk one evening and charmed a farmer's goats to talk. The Headmaster found the entire situation hilarious but the Ministry didn't seem to think so. According to Aunt Minerva, you should have heard some of the things the goats were saying."
Harry chuckled at the thought of talking goats and muggles' reactions to such things. He could imagine the heart attack Uncle Vernon and Aunt Marge would have if Ripper, that viscous bulldog, started spewing some vulgarities.
"The Headmaster had a wife, for forty some odd years. She was killed by Grindelwald's forces in 1943. He had two sons, Wulfric Dumbledore was killed by Grindelwald in 1945. Nicholas Dumbledore is still alive, he's around 75. Then there's a daughter, Rowena Dumbledore, she's around 68. Nicholas, after moving to the United States, had a son named Wulfric, named after his deceased uncle, who is in his mid-forties and an Ambassador to Japan for the States. Wulfric has a son named Edward who I believe just graduated from the Academy of Wizardry in Central Park. Rowena, now Rowena Dempsey, has a son named Brad who is 37 and a French Unspeakable, and a daughter named Ariana, 34, who is the Charms professor at Beauxbatons. Ariana married Francis Delacour, brother to Jean Delacour, whose daughter Fleur you should know. Brad has three children attending Beauxbatons, Alexis, Landon and Avery, who are 15, 14 and 11 respectively. Ariana has a daughter named Olympe, who is 13 and also a student at Beauxbatons."
"How do you know so much about the Dumbledore family?" Harry wondered.
"Well Aunt Minerva was a year older than Rowena Dumbledore in Hogwarts, both Gryffindors, and they became friends. Aunt Minerva has also been working with the Headmaster for forty years now. Our families have always been close."
Harry nodded his head, it made sense. If he lived long enough to have kids, he figured they'd be friends with every child Ron and Neville had, as well as the children of all the people he trained with in the mornings.
"Now back on the subject of giants. Obviously you know that there skin is tough to penetrate with magic. You generally need more wizards to bring down a giant then a dragon."
"Yeah, but dragons have a weak spot; their eyes."
James nodded his head. "Correct. Which is the same with giants. However, there are more spots then just there eyes in which to target. Like every other creature out there, giants are also weak at their ears, mouth and nose. If you can land a powerful bludgeoner up a giants nose or into its ear, you will scramble its brain. If you get it to open its mouth, try to hit it with something to cut out its tongue, knock out some teeth or anything else to cause damage."
"Yeah but thats still out of the reach of a grounded witch or wizard. You can use brooms but you'd have to be pretty good to get close enough to land a shot into one of its face holes. That or have some pretty damn good accuracy."
"True. Which is why you would need, on average, a dozen witches and wizards of average power to take one down. However, if you have someone powerful enough, say Dumbledore or you in ten years, you could probably get a spell deep enough to cause some damage. Giants have similar body structures to humans, since they are in theory very large humans. The Achilles tendon is only protected by four to five inches of thick skin. If a powerful magical person hit the back of the ankle with an overcharged cutter, they'd be able to bring the giant to its knees. From there, the eyes, ears, nose and mouth are roughly five feet closer and the giant is relatively stationary."
"My lord, I think one of Selwyn's subordinates is having second thoughts. She might desert."
Voldemort surveyed Avery with his cold red eyes, debating whether or not to curse the man for barging into the room without being called in without announcing himself. Avery may have been a Death Eater from the last war, but he had the last of his inner circle to join him. Avery joined the ranks of Death Eaters late in the year 1980, fresh from Hogwarts. He had joined the inner circle after leading a group of Death Eaters to victory against Ministry Aurors who outnumbered them two-to-one. The man hadn't really learned how to act around his lord.
Voldemort flicked his wand, Avery's head snapping to the side as a powerful force slapped across his face. Avery turned toward his lord with wide eyes, his upper lip split open and his cheek starting to swell.
"You would do well to remember to knock before entering my throne room Avery."
Avery dropped to his knees and bowed low to the ground. "Of course my lord. I beg forgiveness for my stupidity."
"You are to leave in a few minutes to begin the new recruits weekly training. Which recruit is it? I will observe your training and observe them."
"Helen Edgecombe."
"Very well. Go start their training. I will show up half-way through and observe her."
Avery quickly nodded his head, standing up from his kneeling position and moving quickly from the room. Voldemort scratched his chin, trying to think of what to do if the woman did turn out to regret her decision. If she projected her thoughts like most did, he'd be able to find her views on joining the Death Eaters without having to even be in the room. If she had taken Mind Magics at Hogwarts, studied Occlumency on her own or just had a naturally strong mind, he would need eye contact. Either way, he knew he could easily get the info from her. He was after all the greatest Legilimens in recent history.
Avery felt his Dark Mark warm slightly and excused himself from the training quickly. As soon as he stepped outside he came face to face with his lord.
"She is projecting her thoughts like a simple first year. Not only is she having doubts, but she is thinking of approaching Amelia Bones to give her all the information she knows about us. We can not allow this."
"Do you want me to kill her my lord?" Avery asked, eager to prove himself after barging in unannounced earlier in the day.
Voldemort shook his head, wondering why he surrounded himself with idiots. Avery was a good fighter and one of his better commanders, but the man was an idiot when it came to other things. "If we murder her, her disappearance will get an Auror team investigating. If the team is competent enough they'll be able to track her magical signature here through her apparitions. We can't have that, can we?"
Avery flushed, cursing himself for forgetting that apparition was easily track-able, especially for law enforcement officials. That was taught in the first apparition class sixth years participated in. It was why you never apparated right to your base of operations after an attack.
"If you don't mind me asking, what will you do my lord?"
Voldemort contemplated telling the man, and thought it would be best to tell him, as well as everyone else. "I'll erase her memory of the training sessions and of ever being approached by Selwyn. Then I'll implant a piece of magic in her brain that when activated will give me control of her, similar to the Imperius Curse. I'll keep her in the Ministry, never having her think she strayed from her dull life and then when it suits me best, I'll use her."
The Magical Law Enforcement Squad member-turned Death Eater knew such magics of the mind were beyond him, but he understood the gist of it. He never would have thought of such a thing. He knew most wouldn't think of such a thing and would settle either on killing her, keeping her prisoner or just erasing her memory. Few would ever think of using her like so. It was why the Dark Lord was the Dark Lord.
"You will discreetly put her under the Imperius curse and have her leave the room. I will take it from there. Tell the others, she has changed her mind and will be obliviated. They might be suspicious but when they see her at work tomorrow, none of them will think anything of it."
"Of course my lord."
Rookwood, Travers, Dolohov, Mulciber, Rodolphus, Yaxley and Rabastan were all given a relatively clean bill of health and had returned to his inner circle. Bellatrix was still being observed because she was apparently showing signs of aggressive psychoticism she didn't have before. Ethan Rosier, who was one of Voldemort's "friends" in his last two years of Hogwarts and whose son Evan was killed by Alastor Moody in 1981, was still frail after his sixty-nine year old body spent sixteen years in the prison. Luckily Rhydian had hired several Medi-Wizards from Russia to take care of the recent escapees, who had all sworn oaths to treat the patients to the best of their abilities without revealing the identities to anyone.
"Dolohov, Mulciber during your absence Avery has done all of the training. Now that you two are back, I want you two to take care of the training. Avery, focus all your attention on keeping an eye on Amelia Bones. Her niece has been reported to be training with Potter and I don't want Bones to be working against me without me knowing."
The three men nodded their heads, Avery finally glad to be rid of his teaching duties. He was a fighter, not an educator. Let that job fall to Dolohov and Mulciber who were better fighters and much more patient men.
"Selwyn, one of your underlings you recruited was going to desert us and come clean to Bones. Luckily Avery spotted it and I stopped her from doing anything. Edgecombe is no longer one of us and she has no idea of ever being one of us. Keep it that way."
"Of course my lord."
"Rodolphus, how is Bella?"
The man in question sat up a little straighter in his chair after being addressed. He was still pale and his face gaunt, but he had gained back most of his former body weight in the two months he had been free of Azkaban, thanks to the work of nutrient potions.
"Physically she is well my lord. Mentally though, she is unstable. She is easier to anger, paranoid and more aggressive then I ever remember her being."
Voldemort let a small smirk work its way on his face. "Maybe we should leave her how she is."
"My lord?" Rodolphus asked, questioningly.
"She is one of our better fighters. As long as this behavior doesn't inhibit her fighting abilities, leaving her like so will make her more frightening to both our enemies and our own side. Could be beneficial."
Rodolphus opened his mouth but quickly closed it. Although he didn't voice his opinions that he didn't want his wife behaving in such a way, Voldemort could read his thoughts. The Dark Lord could tell Rodolphus vehemently disagreed with such a course of action, though he would never voice such things out loud.
"You disagree Rodolphus?"
Rodolphus quickly shook his head. "Of course not my lord. Whatever you command!"
Voldemort flicked his wand, the Lestrange heir falling backwards off his chair, where he landed on the ground with one hand clutching his now bruised cheek.
"Do not lie to me Rodolphus. I know you want nothing to do with such a plan. Do you think me stupid?"
"No my lord!" the man cried, scrambling to his feet and back into his seat.
"Rabastan, Dumbledore has most likely started up his Order again. I want you to keep tabs on all of the old members, so we know which ones are still in it. Use some of the younger members, like Pucey, to help you. The rest of you, prepare yourselves for in six weeks we attack Hogsmeade and capture Potter."
A/N: Dumbledore's family isn't important in this story but they will play a role in the sequel. Dumbledore is 115 years old for future reference.
Brother Aberforth is 110 years old. Bartender at Hog's Head. Never married.
Wife Alicia was killed in 1943 by Grindelwald's forces after 41 years of marriage. They married in 1902, when Dumbledore was 21.
Son Wulfric was killed in 1945 by Grindelwald at the age of 37, he wasn't married at the time.
Son Nicholas, 75, wanted out of the U.K. after the war with Grindelwald in 1945. Was originally an Ambassador to the U.S. for Great Britain for thirty years before retiring there.
Daughter Rowena, 68, married Charles Dempsey and moved to France. She was a Spell Crafter for a private company before retiring in 1962.
Grandson and Nicholas' son Wulfric, 44, is an ambassador to Japan for the U.S.
Grandson and Rowena's son Brad, 37, is a French Unspeakable.
Granddaughter and Rowena's daughter Ariana, 34, is a Charms professor at Beauxbatons. She married Francis Delacour, Fleur's uncle.
Great grandson and Wulfric's son Edward, 17, just graduated from the Academy of Wizardry in Central Park.
Great granddaughter and Brad's daughter Alexa Dempsey, 15, is a student at Beauxbatons.
Great grandson and Brad's son Landon Dempsey, 14, is a student at Beauxbatons.
Great granddaughter and Brad's daughter Avery Dempsey, 11, is a student at Beauxbatons.
Great granddaughter and Ariana's daughter Olympe Delacour, 14, is a student at Beauxbatons.